PAFS- Post Apocalyptic Fallout Scenario

Post War

When the world got so involved with pitiful squabbles over power, fuel, resources, and who is the better human, they started bickering with their military powers, then eventually...their nuclear weapons. Thanks to paranoid conspiracy theorists, bunkers, houses, and vaults were built to withstand pretty much anything from nuclear blasts to global catastrophic phenomenons. Living in the southeast United States also served well, as we never really got the brunt of the attacks, but we still had our safe places to go. Ten years has passed since the human race destroyed this once beautiful planet, and thankfully the planet has healed wonderfully; the plant life has taken the land back, the animals have stopped being poached, and the weather has returned to a point where isn’t punishing.

I was twelve years old when my parents locked us away in a public bunker, and my thirst for knowledge is what kept me sane through the years, plus the fact that I’m a busy body tinkerer, so I did a lot of creative inventing along the way. I guess I should also mention, the nuclear fallout had more effect than people first thought. The radiation and biological weapons changed people, made them mutant like, but not with powers, and when they died, they pretty much became zombies. The bunker opened after eight years, although there were only fifty people in the bunker, only twenty came out alive, which included my parents, but they decided to live peacefully on the lakeside; also, my dad and I, with a few of the other survivors, took a Dynamax Grand Sport GC400GT, a RV, and built a running war machine covered with armor that could withstand just about anything, several defense functions, and a dual hybrid system that includes a custom built turbo diesel engine with more power than a Bugatti, and a custom built electric motor that charges itself...just in case they decided they would want to travel. I decided that I wanted to travel, so that I could learn more and see what all was out there, and in the two years since I left the bunker, I’ve done a lot of things.

The first thing I did was raid the local gun store, where I got a 12 gauge KSG shotgun, a 1875 .45 Schofield revolver, a .45 Kimber Sapphire Ultra II, a uniquely designed Beretta pistol that looks like a modified black and frost blue 93R with a suppressor and a black laser, a black leather quickdraw holster and belt, two black Dyneema thigh holsters, and a black Dyneema back holster for the shotgun, I thought it better to be safe than sorry. I put the KSG on my back facing left, the Schofield in the quickdraw holster hovering over my left thigh, the Kimber in the right hip holster, and the 93R in the left hip holster.

The second thing I did was build a motorcycle, Voltex, using parts from Tesla vehicles, different types of motorcycles, and some of my creative genius. The bike has a dual front wheel set on a balancing gyroscope, a thick fat rear wheel, a rail drive system, a self charging dual electric motor powered by a hydro cycle ring that I designed myself, neon azure tracer lights around the entire body, a GoPro camera installed on the front above the headlight, a GoPro camera installed on the back below the taillight, and several compartments to stow different items, because I don’t exactly like the look, feel, or aesthetics of saddlebags on motorcycles.

The third thing I did was raid pharmacies for a list of different drugs and medical supplies, which I learned from several sources, “Prepare for the worst while hoping for the best”. Then I raided clothing factories, malls, and other places to find, and create my own unique wardrobe suitable for the life of a roaming rogue. A black tanned kangaroo hide collarless sleeveless hooded trench coat with white stitching; Cyan specially designed unique pattern that seems random around the collar with the tail stretching the entire length on the right side while the other side stopping around the breast on the left side; the inner lining is white saber spider silk; the middle lining is lined with titanium foxtail chain mail; the back has my signature sigil seal embroidered on it. A pair of gloves, I call the Swifty gloves, left hand is white cobra skin with the index and little fingers removed; right hand is black sheepskin with the index and middle fingers removed. Deep metallic royal blue satin long sleeve dress shirt. Pure white saber spider silk V-cut rogue vest. Black carbon fiber infused leggings. A black leather bomber’s, or aviator’s jacket with white fur on the collar and interior. Dark grey and black tactical rogue pants. Titungstium reinforced square toe rogue boots, and I’m quoting the brand name of the metal. A hat I wear backwards, I call the V-cap, black flat bill hat embroidered with my sigil seal and symbol. A set of beanies, I call Veanies, single knit beanies of different colors and styles with my symbol embroidered on the front. A pair of matte black titanium frame sunglasses with ultra-indigo polarized circular lenses and a white leather removable shield. What I assume is a prototype for a tactical lower face mask that was probably made to filter air, filter out sand and smoke, and is made of graphene that covers the nose and mouth. I invented a watch using several different types of technology, I call the Vortex Omniwatch, which I rigged to attach to a black leather cuff, and made the bodies from a tungsten titanium vanadium alloy; main face is analog with 24 hour dial, digital, and neon azure back light; secondary face features altitude, depth, barometric pressure, and compass; tertiary face features digital and holographic analytical interface, which has an automatic Geiger counter. My Calamity necklace; black, silver, blue, purple, and pink byzantine chain; a charm added for every person I’ve been able to save. My Vanity bracelet; black and silver anchor chain; charm added for every person I could not save. I acquired a single strap Dyneema black and cyan glitch camo tactical backpack that I carry with me everywhere, and only store things that aren’t as necessary as other particular items. I found a black and white leather engineer’s field satchel that I attached to the belt and on my right thigh behind the holster, and stored items that I would need to get with ease. While in Arizona, I came across a western cowboy themed store where I pilfered a lead lined black leather roll up tool kit that I filled with modern rogue tools attaching it to the very back of my belt, a black leather huckleberry rig with a matte black titanium tactical karambit knife and sheath on the left side, two black leather component pouches below the sheath, and an attachment to connect holsters to on both sides, also I attached a GoPro camera to the rig to record everything I experience for my own personal reasons. One of the other things that catches my eyes is a machete sized kukri with a silver metal and black leather sheath, a polished silver extremely sharp blade that has Native American engravings along the spine, and a silver grooved handle with black steel single guards for the index and little finger which I attach to the back of my belt hanging horizontally just under the toolkit roll. Lastly, I’ve collected a ton of different computers, laptops, cell phones, smartphones, PDAs, cameras, and other bits of technology looking for the best ones to keep while also plucking certain bits of their technology for my tinkering, which I am currently working on a visor, mask, or helmet that I could program a heads up display and a scanner which I could link to my watch.

If you haven’t guessed by now, I no longer use my given name, instead, I use V, and only my parents know my real name now. I have a very unique ambidexterity that ranges a whole other spectrum; for two handed guns, writing, and eating I’m a lefty; for bows, throwing, and musical instruments I’m a righty; for just about everything else I can do with either hand. I am 6 feet 4 inches tall, I weigh 250 pounds naked with an athletic build, my skin mostly stays white aside from some farmer’s tan here and there, my eyes are aquamarine changing from blue to green accordingly, both of my ears are pierced in the lobes tragus and conch, black scruff beard but never a mustache, my hair is currently 3 feet long and I keep it dyed black, ocean blue, orchid, and fuchsia aka galaxy style.

This story begins with me traveling into St Louis, while avoiding the radioactive hotspots, abandoned vehicles, radiation infected people that have gone mad aka Rippers, and the random zombie people, who I’ve been calling Raddies. Us good folk also do our best to avoid the not so good survivors that are basically the worst sorts of evil people; murderers, rapists, all around heartless bastards.

As I make my way into the city, I stop at certain intervals to take pictures and look out for certain stores, or places that might have something I would like. I find a gun shop that looks to be in good shape as I drive through some of the back streets, so I park the Voltex in front of the store on the sidewalk, slip my sunglasses into the left inside breast pocket of my jacket, grab the shotgun, and remove the key putting it in the left inside breast pocket, which renders the bike useless as it connects the power relays. I check my weapons before attempting to open the front door to notice it is expectedly locked, so I walk around to the back using the alleyway while checking my watch to scan for radiated life signs, and luckily there are not any. When I reach the back door, I notice that someone painted “Intruders will be shot” on the door with horrible handwriting, but the door is unlocked, so I turn the handle slowly opening the door quietly and walk in expecting the worst, but hoping for the best. It is very dark inside, but the backup lights are on, which means there must be a generator or solar panels giving this place some power, and I also notice the door to the second floor has light coming from the other side. I look around to notice several good choices for guns and tons of ammunition as I make my way to the door trying to be quiet, and once I get to the door, I hear footsteps in the stairwell, so I hide behind the nearest counter. Even though I am 92.8% sure that I was being extremely careful to not make any noise, it surprises me that, who or whatever is on the other side of the door, stops before reaching the end of the stairs. There is a very stressful, awkward, and silent couple of moments that pass as I anxiously wait for the door to open, and during those moments, I make a plan to surprise ambush the thing I assume is a person. I do not exactly want to get shot, even though I have done what I could to make my wardrobe extremely durable and slightly bulletproof, it still hurts like hell, so I plan to catch them from behind in an attempt to minimize the chance of seeing a bullet. After those two moments finally pass, the footsteps continue, the doorknob turns slowly, then the door is pushed open. I am expecting to see a middle aged to elderly man who is probably the owner of the store, but when the person enters the room, I am shocked to see the figure of a young woman no older than 20. It is too dark to clearly see her from my position, but I can tell she is slightly malnourished, probably living here alone, and is in very poor health, which deters me from ambushing her.

“Hey! I’m in here and I don’t mean you any harm,” I announce with a raised voice causing her to jump and look around pointing her gun around, “I am traveling around looking for special things, supplies, ammunition, and of course more clean water and good food,” I explain and she continues looking around in silence, so I decide that I should stand up so she can see me, “I’m going to stand up now, I mean you no harm, so if you’ll allow me to stand up, I can leave if you want,” I sheath the shotgun in my back, raise my hands, and stand up slowly, “but you should know I have fresh water and some good food,” I mention while standing, and once my arms are above the counter, she notices me and points the gun directly at my head, but still she remains silent, rather than pulling the hammers back on her 16 gauge double barrel shotgun, “I can understand that you want to defend yourself, but I will prove to you that I mean you no harm,” I say calmly walking around the counter, “I can turn around and put all my weapons on the counter, or you can handcuff me if you want, or I can do anything you want for me to prove I am peaceful...” I say in an urgent manner, then she gestures with the gun for me to step around the counter, so I cautiously walk around the counter, then she puts the double barrel on my mask while motioning down with her eyes, “oh, right! Sorry, I forgot I was still wearing it,” I laugh lowering my hands, removing the mask, and hanging it on my belt, then she lowers the gun and points to the stairs, “I know that you would have killed me already if you wanted to, so why are you taking me upstairs?” I ask as my eyes are getting attuned to the dark, but she insists that I go upstairs, so I sigh and walk up the stairs, meanwhile I am thinking that this girl is either deaf or mute. Once I reach the second floor, I see that she has turned the workshop into a safe space for her to sleep, but she doesn’t seem to have any supplies, so when I hear her stop, I turn around to catch her smiling.

She is five feet nine inches tall probably 100 pounds with very messy shoulder length jet black hair, azure diamond eyes, pale white skin, a slim physique, 32C bust, 22 waist, 33 hips, also she is as cute as a button as she has cheek dimples that appear when she smiles and has tried to do her makeup with decent black Egyptian style eyeliner, smoky blue eye shadow, and rainbow star stickers under her eyes. She is wearing a black fishnet cropped top over a white long sleeve shirt featuring a cartoon unicorn pooping on a fairy, a black shemagh with white stitching around her neck, a pleated pink and black miniskirt, black fishnet hose over hot pink boyshorts, a dark grey rugged burlap belt that she has turned into a utility belt, a pair of checkered Converse shoes that she has used a permanent marker to fill in the white squares with blue, and she has a solid silver .50 Desert Eagle with the skull and crossbones symbol engraved into the grip on both sides in a black shoulder holster.

The large room is halfway filled with tools and machines of a skilled gunsmith, both antique and fairly new, while it also has an old refrigerator, an electric stove, three microwaves, a wood burning stove that looks to be used more for a forge than cooking, a very worn out mattress laying near the door to the roof, a rolled up sleeping bag for a pillow, four different covers each thicker than the last, and lastly boxes, cabinets, and racks filled with all sorts of gun parts.

“I won’t tell you how to live your life, but you’re in desperate need of supplies, and some sunlight,” I say laughing taking my backpack off setting it on a table next to me while she curiously walks over to see what I am doing, “so, you can hear me yes?” I ask looking at her and she nods in agreement, “can you talk at all?” I inquire and she shakes her head no, “why not?” I stop what I’m am doing as she pulls her shemagh down and points to a large scar that stretches across her neck, literally from one ear to the other, that looks as if someone tried to slit her throat, “I see, do you know who did that to you?” I ask taking out two cans of spaghetti and meatballs, two one liter bottles of clean water, two MilkyWay candy bars, and a bag of deer jerky from my sister’s ranch. She answers me using a personalized sign language that is similar to the universal sign language, but I still have trouble completely understanding her vernacular, “okay, slow down...” I say thinking for a moment, “can you write?” I pull an indigo leather pocket journal, a black mechanical pencil, and a TŪL pen out of my satchel putting them on the table in front of her as she nods yes to me. I take the cans of spaghetti and meatballs over to her stove, set them both on an eye, and switch the eye on low while she flips through my journal looking at my designs and logs, “I can discuss those designs with you later if you want, but first I would like some answers to my questions, please,” I request walking back to her grabbing a couple of plasticware packs out of the side pocket of my backpack, “I would like to know who tried to kill you, if you know who it is. I would ask if you are the owner of this establishment, and if you enjoy staying here. If you wouldn’t mind telling me, I’d like to know your age, and lastly, if you would want to join me,” I say turning the stove off, grabbing the cans with towels, and sitting them on the table we are at while also dragging some crates over to sit on. She starts to reach for her can, but I slide it away, “I know you must be starving, but take it slowly, eat slow so that you don’t make yourself sick,” I urge her and she smiles nodding at me, then she slides the journal to me and I slide the can to her.

“My name Aluri. My daddy cut neck when I 8. He mad mommy. This daddy store I hate store. I think I 16. I want leave and join you,” she wrote on three separate pages with nearly unintelligible handwriting which is similar to the painting on the back door, but I was able to make it out fairly well after discerning what her letters were, so I dig into my bag and pull out a rose gold Android tablet with the attachable pink keyboard, a white Blackberry Bold 9000 GSM cellphone, and a leather pocket journal similar to mine with a TŪL pen and a mechanical pencil giving them all to her. She accepts them excitedly as I teach her the rudimentary functions so we can communicate easier.

I start out showing her how to turn them off and on, then I take my heavily augmented neon metallic azure iPhone VX Pro Max, Vphone, out of my shirt pocket, and two V-tooth earpieces from my backpack, which are small solid white tear drop shaped wireless earbuds that I enhanced greatly adding an ambient LED status light indicating blue for active and red for inactive. All the while, I am explaining to her that I have reprogrammed all of my devices to operate on a certain frequency that allows them to operate the way they were designed to as if they were active through a mobile cellular wireless phone service provider, which allowed me to contact others who have done the same, and together we have kept the vastness of the Internet alive. I put one of the V-tooth buds in my left ear and reach my hand up to put the other bud in her right ear, but I must have startled her as she quickly jerks grabbing my hand.

“It’s just a little communication device that will allow for us to talk...for me to talk, and we will figure your signals out later, but no matter how far we are away from each other, I can still hear you, also you can listen to music through them,” I explain as she turns my hand investigating the bud, then she nods to me before going back to eating and playing with her new toys, so I brush her hair behind her ear and insert the V-tooth in her ear, “if you have something you need to tell me, and I’m not around to see you, you can send me a text message which my number is already programmed into those,” I explain pointing to the tablet and phone, “the V-tooth never needs to charge, because it has a kinetic charging mechanism similar to kinetic watches,” I continue explaining while periodically taking a couple of bites, but I notice how she looks at the BlackBerry with a confused expression on her face, “you can’t read can you?” I rhetorically ask which she gives me a negative response, “that’s nothing to be ashamed of, I can teach you, but I also want to help you learn real sign language, or you can teach me yours...which we could use to our advantage so no one will know what we are saying,” I laugh softly watching her finish the can of spaghetti and meatballs with her mouth covered with sauce, so I slide my can over to her causing her to react in a shocking manner that she cannot believe I am sharing my ration with her, “you’re going to have to get used to me, I am extremely selfish, but only over a few certain things, other than that, I like to think of myself as pretty generous,” I give her a smile taking one of the MilkyWay bars, “alright, for these next few questions, just shake your head yes or no, and please don’t lie to me, you shouldn’t hide anything from me, I’m not going to judge you,” I say opening and eating the candy bar, then I go down the list of questions while recording everything with my phone.

Is your father, or daddy dead? Yes. Did you kill him? No. Is your mother, or mommy dead? Yes. Did your father kill her? Yes. Are you certain that you are fifteen years old? No. Would you mind if I used some of the guns from downstairs and the tools up here? No. Are there any other weapons that are put up, locked up, or hidden? Yes. Would you show me where those other weapons are? Yes. Do you have any other technology, types of glasses, apparel, accessories, or anything that I could use? Yes, maybe. What is your favorite color? She gives me an odd look after answering with a yes.

“I’m going to take a look downstairs to see if I can find something worthwhile, but you don’t have to get up, you can sit here and finish your food,” I say calmly as I stand up, grab my backpack, put my hand on her shoulder as I walk by, and head down the stairs taking my KSG out. I reach into my satchel and pull out two very powerful flashlights, one with a rail attachment which I put on the KSG, while the other one I hold on to, but I turn them both on before opening the door.

The first thing I check is every direction out before walking through the doorway, secondly I look out front to make sure my Voltex is still there and safe, then I check the perimeter of the store making sure the doors are locked and secured.

Once everything is sufficiently safe, I bring my Voltex inside parking her near the back door, then I secure the front door, close the shades, and start looking around at all the merchandise. I start browsing around in the handgun section which is closest to the back door and begins with with a few airsoft, BB guns, and small caliber guns, then continues towards the front in sections separating the pistols, revolvers, and automatic handguns.

The only handguns that catch my eye are a black CZ Shadow 2 with a blue grip and suppression barrel extension, a silver CZ Shadow 2 MG engraved anniversary edition with a suppression barrel extension, and a Chiappa Rhino 60 DS 40 revolver, so I put them in my backpack for now and move on to the front counter.

Although there are several appealing souvenirs and other useless junk around the register, counter, and wall, the only items I am attracted to are a few tactical torch lighters, a box of refill butane, a selection of different eyewear items, a few pairs of tactical gloves, a black versatile tactical stiletto combat knife with a built in taser wired to the blade, two climbing ice picks, and a tactical tomahawk, all of which I store in and on my backpack before moving on to the shotguns.

I do not find anything that stands out, so I continue forward to the sub-machine guns, but before I can begin, my Vphone vibrates and I check it to see that Aluri sent me a text message.

“Daddy not keep best guns in store. Blue. Pink. Come back I show you best guns,” the message reads, which is much better than her handwriting, so I breeze through the rest of the store picking out two black conceal carry holsters before returning to the workshop upstairs. Once I reach her still at the table with a satisfied expression covering her face, I lay out everything I took from the store in an orderly fashion.

“Is there anything you want from these?” I ask gesturing to the items, and she points to the black CZ Shadow, a pair of white metal framed aviator sunglasses with reflective metallic blue and pink lenses, and a pair of black and pink leather gloves, “do you have a good bag or backpack?” I inquire moving the items she chose to her side of the table, and she nods yes before gesturing for me to follow her as she stands up and walks towards the stairs, so I grab my backpack and a towel and follow her while she leads me to the wall adjacent to the stairs where she uses a butter knife to pry the light switch off the wall revealing a keypad. She types in 110759 causing the floor panel on top of the stairs to slide over the stairs blocking them off, but also revealing an elevator, “wow, now that is pretty cool,” I laugh in surprise as I am impressed and clean her face from the spaghetti sauce. She guides me onto the metal plate that was under the very top of the stairs and uses her foot to press a switch on the floor, which activates the elevator and we begin to descend through a long tunnel.

“I not go down alone. Last I go down with daddy,” Aluri holds her phone up to me showing me this message, so while we wait for the elevator to stop, I try to teach her some better grammar. We finally arrive at the bottom 225 feet from the surface, and she walks me through the bunker she and her family stayed in showing me the different rooms until we reach the armory room. She enters the room first grabbing a black and blue Rhino Rigs footlocker type box and carries it over to the elevator with ease, while I take a look at all of the guns her father has collected, then she returns holding her phone out to me, “we take all?”

“We might as well, but I don’t have a way to carry all of this,” I reply as I start opening the other Rhino Rigs boxes to see some of them are empty and could hold several of the guns, so I gesture to her to start helping me load the boxes. It takes us two hours and four trips to get everything useful out of the bunker, and during the elevator rides, I teach her more as she seems to be a quick learner.

Once everything is topside, I start unloading it all asking Aluri to put her items in her box and work on learning while I organize everything so I can pick out the best to carry with us for now, but I knew I would be coming back.

Then suddenly, I receive a text message from a friend who used to live near here which says, “Hey V! I saw you were in St Louis, so I thought I would drop by and say hello!” It gives me an idea that he could help get these boxes to one of my checkpoint bases.