Vault 3. A better future underground!
Blake, scraping around the bottom of his can of beans with a metal spoon, screwed up his face as he read the well-worn sign.
"Bunch of bullshit." he said through a mouth full of food. His only companion, the german shepard that lay at his feet, perked up at his master's voice, gave a soft whine. Blake absently scratched behind the dog's ears as he studied the sign.
Likely, they had all died out soon after the bombs fell, he thought. The sun beat down upon the war-torn earth without discrimination, and the only thing protecting Blake's neck from its harsh sunburn was a wide brimmed leather hat. Tossing the now empty can to the dirt and standing, placing his metal spoon within a shirt pocket. Grabbing up his rifle, he rubbed the dog behind the ears once more.
"Lets go, buddy."