The day was ending in the Capitol Wasteland. The sun was sinking below the horizon allowing fiery reds and oranges, tainted by irradiated green, to wash over the rubble of the old world and the craters of the new. It was one of the few moments of natural beauty one could see since the bombs fell. Darren often tried to stop whatever he was doing to enjoy this sight, and try to forget the horrors he had witnessed... and committed.
"Sunset," he muttered to himself , "I better hurry."
Darren reluctantly tore his gaze away from the coming twilight, instead focusing on his equipment. He was wearing an old, weather-beaten, blood stained suit of leather armor had saved his life countless times over the last few months, but its own lifespan was nearing its end. He had no idea how much longer it would be before it simply fell off of his body. A holster on his hip held a 10mm pistol and his pockets contained a pair of spiked knuckles. These weapons, like the armor, were familiar to him serving as loyal companions through his recent troubles. Darren's other weapons however were given to him for his current job, one was a knife kept in a sheath hidden in his boot, and the other was a horribly maintained sawed-off shotgun that he had no holster for.
"When did you become suicidal, Darren?" he asked himself as he held the shotgun like it was a dead animal. He was worried that it would explode when he tried to use it, but the pathetic amount of ammo he had been given made it impossible for him to test the weapon. The very sight of this possible bomb was giving Darren a headache. Pinching the bridge of his nose he turned his attention to his pack. The meagre supplies within the pack clattered as he opened it and took note of its contents; it didn't take him long. All that was left was one stimpack, one dose of med-ex, a mutfruit, three clips of 10mm ammo, four shotgun shells, and a bottle of dirty irradiated water.
Darren took a sip of the water and grimaced. In the wasteland any water is better than no water, but that never helped the flavor. Slipping the bottle back into his pack, Darren stood to survey his surroundings.
The skeleton of a house stood nearby, half of it having long since collapsed in a nearby crater and now wallowed in a pool of putrid water. The other half still stood in surprisingly good condition, all things considered. It was a depressing sight, one half serving as a glimpse into the old world and the other as a reminder of what happened to it.
The Capital Wasteland truly lived up to its name. Darren had only been there for around a week, and having come from further west he could tell that this area had been hit especially hard during the war. A few days ago he had, from a safe distance, seen the mountain of rubble that had once been called a city. Darren didn't know much about the history of the area , but from the level of devastation he figured it must have been important at one time.
The sound of gunfire echoing in the distance brought Darren back to attention. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, and tried to again focus on his job. From what he had found, he believed he didn't have much further to go. Turning his eyes north, he adjusted the strap for his left shoulder pad and began to walk.