Prologue
2140 HOURS, SEPTEMBER 5, 2294, CAPITAL WASTELAND
The darkness of the night covered the landscape like a black curtain. It silhouetted the vast mountains' scaped to the north and provided perfect cover for the predators and perfect security for the prey. Nothing was visible apart from a small lit fire in the centre of a rocky oasis. The shimmer of the flames leapt and ricocheted their light amongst the nearest rocks giving them a pleasant warm look.
Only one sole figure lay beside the campfire. He appeared to be a hunter by the looks of the apparel he wore and the hunting rifle that rested by his backpack. The man was using some animal hide as a makeshift bed and used his back pack as a pillow to rest his head. Although fast asleep as he was, one stray eye stayed open. He was an experienced hunter and has had his fair share of curious creatures and thieves attempting to attack him when he was most at risk, asleep. He didn't usually sleep by a fire either, but the night was much colder than usual and he couldn't risk taking ill from the drop in heat.
In his hand he held a small pistol at the ready just in case the worst were to happen. This wasn't his usual camping area and his hunting group were camped roughly four miles to the west. They were supposed to meet him at this oasis before dusk, but they must have had a delay. Obstacles and problems are always part of a trek in the wasteland and they must have had to take a detour. On the other side of the fire lay his rucksack. It was packed to the seams with smoked and salted meat that he had prepared during the day. It had been a good hunt and he had a variety of meat and goods which he would be able to sell when he got back into town. Tomorrow will be the end of the hunt and the expedition will be the road they travelled to get back home.
Apart for the delay in arrival times, everything seemed to go as planned. And so far no creature or intruder had ventured near the hunters camp. Though he started noticing some kind of movement near where he slept. It wasn't a wild animal or really anything... but something was there. He couldn't see it but he could feel its presence. His own curiosity and instincts kicked in and now he was wide awake and staring at this peculiar thing. He dare not move at this moment though in case it was a serious threat that may attack at the slightest of his movement. Instead the wise hunter stayed prone and still while observing the weird illusion out of the corner of his eye.
It didn't appear to be anything. Though the light and shadows of the campfire reflected from it and passed through it. It was like the light matter was travelling around it rather than meeting the target and showing what was there. The light matter must be forcibly bending in a sense to obscure what was really there. The hunter knew someone was there but this anomaly had made them near invisible and restricted the hunter from seeing them. Then it hit him. He hadn't seen this sort of technology used in a very long time.
The cloaked figure shifted slowly towards him and now the hunter knew the danger that he was in. Ever so slightly he clicked his safety release off his pistol; 'good' it didn't make a noticeable noise. The cracking of the campfire suppressed it and the mysterious figure didn't seem to notice otherwise the hunter would probably be dead already.
All at once the hunter sat straight up with his side arm aimed straight at the offender. He managed to release two shots in quick succession and got a glimpse of the figure careening and slumping towards the ground. Then he heard someone running towards him from his side. He was about to turn when he felt a heavy blow to his side and he was now rolling on the ground. Someone had tackled him down and he was now in a scuffle.
They rolled around silhouetted by the fire. The hunter got a hand free at the expense of losing grip of his pistol and now it was on the ground somewhere in the dark. He managed to get two right hooks into his attackers face and the intruders camouflage began to flicker. He could now see his opponent. The guy was in very dark attire and was dressed like a soldier. The thing that scared the hunter the most though was the sawn off shotgun that was now in the soldiers hand at the ready.
He grabbed the soldiers' arms and pushed them and the shotgun barrel away from him. The soldier got a knee into the hunters' stomach which then put him out of breath and loosened his hold. With his pistol out of reach the hunter knew his only chance at surviving was to disarm his opponent and use his own gun against him. He was beginning to get a powerful grip on the soldiers; forearms and soon he would have the opportunity to pull the attacker off him and get the gun. But then he felt a sudden impact on his head and felt a crippling head-butt which left him dazed.
He lost his control and the soldier got his arms free. The hunter went to make one last grab at the shotgun when he heard a deafening loud shot ring out in his ears and leave the flash of the shot blind his eyes. He slammed back into the ground and knew he had just been shot. What befuddled him was that he couldn't feel any pain... he couldn't feel anything the adrenaline and shock were responsible for that.
There wasn't any time to think about what just happened, he had little time to act. He sprang back up and pounced his shooter by surprise. He got a grip on the barrel and again the two bodies were scuffling on the ground. A warm liquid covered both their bodies and he began to notice the full extent of his wound. He was covered in his own blood, and bleeding out fast. The hunter couldn't feel anything in his left arm, he didn't even know if he was using it.
He pushed his opponent into the dry sand and shoved his elbow into the soldier's neck. Slowly but surely he inched the barrel closer and closer towards his foe. The soldier's eyes widened as he realized he couldn't get out of the hunters hold. The hunter found the trigger and before the soldier knew it he pressed down on it without hesitating.
'Bang' all the hunter could hear was the ringing in his ears. He looked down at the soldier and saw that his mid section had a gaping dark hole in the middle of it. He rolled off the dying man and looked at him to see the damage he had done. The soldier was whimpering, not loud but quietly enough for the hunter to hear. His hands were holding his large wound trying to hold in the ruptured organs and shredded intestines. He couldn't hold in the blood as it filled the wound and then effortlessly poured out forming a near black puddle on each side of the soldier. For a split second the hunter felt a brush of sympathy for his dying foe.
Then the shear pain hit him. The hunter keeled over as his arms nerves felt like they had been pumped with hot iron rods. It pulsed up and down his arm like it was an angry demon demanding to get out. He could feel his whole jacket was soaking wet in his own blood. The hunter finally looked at his wound and saw that large chunks of muscle hung off his upper arm by a few strands of tendon. The cone of metal pellets had obliterated his bicep and most of his tricep. Just this glance made him feel sick to the stomach. He was losing a lot of blood and he knew it wouldn't be long till he would pass out and eventually die. He went to stand up but now he was feeling overwhelmingly tired, he felt like lying in a bed and falling fast asleep.
He had to stay focused, it was the loss of blood that was affecting his mind and causing the drowsiness. The pistol was roughly a near metre away so he began to crawl and slide his way toward it. He noticed the first guy he shot was still incapacitated or dead because his body hadn't moved. That didn't mean he had killed them all though. One final stretch of his arm and his fingers tips were touching the barrel, he began slowly pulling the side arm closer.
He nearly had it in his hand when a black boot stomped down on his wrist. The hunter groaned as he felt his wrist crack under the pressure. The figure then kicked the sidearm out of the poor man's hand and walked into view. He was hidden in a dust coat that seemed to be able to hide everything within it. The kind of coat someone would use to hide their identity. His face was half covered by a slanted leather rustler's hat and all the hunter could identify the man by a prominent long dark scar that ran all the way down the side of this mysterious strangers face. He started pacing slowly back and four with an accomplished sly smile on his face. Then he stopped and started taking off his hat to reveal himself "I've been waiting 17 years for this" he said, "17 years of hunting you and your weak and cowardly friends".
Something clicked in the hunter's tired departing mind. And he remembered who this figure standing before him was. This guy was responsible for sending the Wasteland back to its former savage ways and the 1000's of lives lost that he used to accomplish it. "Don't worry about the rest of your hunting party" continued this evil spirited man "They told me where you'd be, and then I had them exterminated like the weak fools they were". The hunter shut his eyes in disbelief, those men died because of him and his past. The blood of his fellow men would be on his hands forever now. The evil man laughed as the hunter noticed more soldiers appearing out of thin air as they deactivated their cloaking devices. Eight pairs of sinister eyes now gazed upon the hunter giving off an aura of pure hate. He thought to himself that at least 10 people must have been watching him rest without him even knowing. It chilled the hunter to the bone knowing that.
The leader slowly slid his hand into the chest pocket of his trench coat "It's a shame it had to end like this, I enjoyed hearing the stories of your travels" he pulled out a dark chrome revolver from his chest pocket. The man then began individually inserting single rounds into the revolvers cylinder. "I just can't believe it's really you!" The dying soldier interrupted the two rivals with a gurgling noise. His lungs were filling up and he was now beginning to drown in his own blood. A soldier from behind the leader marched over, cocked his rifle and without hesitation fired upon his friend. The dead soldier was now just another casualty of the wasteland.
"I'll be sure to saviour every second of this moment" said the leader as he inserted the last bullet into the cylinder and before spinning it and clicking it back in place. "I received reference that you have a home and family in a town nearby" the evil man pushed down the hammer and aimed the revolver straight at the hunters head "I think I will make slaves of everyone there... farewell old friend"
The hunter was empty as he stared down the barrel. He was close to near death and he was defeated. He'd at least ruin his killer's moment by not pleading and begging for his life. He whispered just one thing under his breath just to himself "...Juliet... I lov..." The hunter never got to finish his last words. There was no sound. There was no pain. All he saw was part of a flash and then...nothing.
A gunshot echoed throughout the wasteland. Then all was silent again.
CAPITAL WASTELAND
Our world isn't the nicest place. A desolate baron of stories of survival and constant struggle are felt in every crevice and corner of this devilish wasteland. Since the bombs fell our world has been plunged into a dark age. The wasteland is what we call it, for it is 200 years of death and endurance. It's hard to believe Washington D.C. was once a place of value, politics and life. There once were no mutants, slavers and monsters that now roam the aged and broken down streets. But that was all before the nuclear holocaust, the destruction of mankind. Though man always seeks for existence, and that is why we are still here, 200 years later. Though our kind haven't done too bad since the bombs fell. For there are a many settlements that dot our horizon at one time. A million stories lay out there waiting to be told, just like the one I have. This particular story is about a boy growing up after the invasion and defeat of the enclave. A boy who experiences love, loss, vengeance and courage in this place we now call our home. And this story starts out in a peaceful settlement on the hilly plains of east Washington, 20kms from D.C. the ruins.
Thanks for reading the first chapter of 2294 A Capital Wasteland. This is only a small part of my side project. will add the other chapters sometime.
