Some call me "Stranger". Some call me "Outsider". Others are not so polite. I woke up with the rest of my vault inmates a year ago, give or take. I have no recollection of how i got there. If fact I have no recollection of my past life at all other than a few snippets of fleeting memories half retrieved since we were brought back to life.
We were all cryogenically frozen, that much is certain. A large electronic display in our dining area suggested we had been asleep for nearly two hundred years. That took a lot of getting used to. Everyone else knew each other from the area, from before the freezing. They knew how they got there, they remembered the terror before the bombs fell. No one remembers me. They all claim my pod was not even there when they enterred. They all said I was a spy of some sort. If I am I have no idea. Gradually the mistrust grew less; I tried to fit in. Tried not to rock the boat.
I know from the rest of the group that we are in Florida, but we don't know much about what else is going on in the rest of the country. We get information of sorts from radio transmissions from what we think is the largest settlement near by; stories about Boston, DC as well as transmissions requesting help from unknown desperate camps. So far none of us from Vault 71 have ventured very far; we've not had too. Our supplies we have lasted well, and the mutated crocodiles; Radcrocs we call them, have kept us in our vault. That is until now.