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 Story based on actual gameplay.

              The bedsheet and mattress were hard and cold. Was that sand in his bed and what happened to his covers?  He must have left the window to his bedroom open because the breeze coming through had left an awful chill in the air.  The bed was so hard. He spit out some of the sand or dirt..was it dirt?  that had gotten into his mouth.  Blearily he opened his eyes. To his dismay things began to both make a little more sense and none at all.  As he lifted his head off of the ground he became startlingly aware he was in fact not in his bed, his room, or even his house.  He seemed to be on the crest of a hill overlooking an unfamiliar valley.  The area was mostly barren with sparse patches of grass scattered here and there.  He drew himself up to his knees and began to take stock of his situation. He was unharmed and unarmed. His clothing was less than ideal; barefoot, boxers and a sleeveless t-shirt. He was unsure of the time, but it was obviously late in the evening since the sun hung low in the sky.  The young man, becoming less and less foggy headed, finally took to his feet, gave one last look all about him and saw nothing in any direction for miles and miles except for what lay in the valley before him.  There he saw what looked to be a small town.  With no better options making themselves available, he began a slow, unsteady walk down into the valley.

It took about an hour to walk down to the town.  It was a guess about the amount of time as he had no watch or other timekeeping device. The “Town” seemed to be barely deserving of the name.  More like a collection of about ten buildings.  They all looked abandoned and appeared to have been that way for quite some time.  All that was missing was the breeze to blow a couple of tumbleweeds across his path.  The fourth building on the right looked promising.  The sign above read “Police”.  He decided he’d make straight for the police station.  Despite his state of dress, he felt more naked without a weapon for protection.  The town itself seemed to be dead and devoid of any form of life whatsoever. As he passed the mortuary he observed its front lined with old wooden coffins. It was like something out of an old western.  To his left was a bank, closed and dark inside.  He passed on his left and right an old post office and tailor shop. They were also dark and appeared to be empty. Past them on the left, was a dress shop and on the right an abandoned general store.  The general store looked as if it had been ransacked and forgotten years ago.  The door was busted in, the windows broken out and from the street he could see the shelves were empty as he passed.  Stopping outside of the police he began searching around for any sign of movement within.

After a few moments, he decided he was as reassured as was going to get and tried the door.   The knob turned freely or rather too freely. When he pushed the door however it barely moved.  He stood back and examined the door.  It must be blocked, he thought to himself.  He was no bodybuilder but, he had seen a gym on a semi regular basis.  His body was thickly proportioned and his mass mostly muscle.  He leaned into the door squaring himself with it, drew back and rammed into it with all his force.  Whatever had been holding the door gave way and the door grudgingly swung open. He stumbled through, the yielding of the door throwing him off balance.  Behind the door he found the desk he had displaced from its position as a barricade.  The station itself, like the rest of the town, was empty and appeared to have been so for quite some time. He just hoped it hadn’t been picked clean of anything useful.   He began his search in the locker room. The room was rather small, only a row of about 6 lockers on his left and to his right a shower room. The lingering musty smell of men still hung heavy in the air. He rummaged through locker after locker looking for something he could use. It wasn’t until he searched the fifth locker that he finally found what he was looking for.  He withdrew a tactical jumpsuit and boots. The fit was good, if a bit snug.  The sixth locker held a bulletproof vest which also fit. On the floor of the locker he also found a flashlight which would come in handy once it was full dark. Next, he went to the armory.  As he expected it had been cleaned out. Not even a pistol or grenade left behind.  All he got for his effort were a couple of empty rifle clips.

He walked back to the main floor and started rummaging through desk drawers and, for his trouble, he was rewarded with a granola bar, a snickers and behind the last desk a corpse clutching a military grade, semi-auto assault rifle.  Still no bullets. The corpse sat lonely in the corner with the back its head missing.  Apparently, the poor bastard had used the rifle on himself rather than turn.  He carefully retrieved the rifle from the dead man and checked it.  It was in pretty decent condition but unfortunately was completely empty. He had even checked the corpse’s pockets and still found nothing. Now, he stood there in the center of the room trying to think of what to do next.  Before he could come up with anything, he thought he heard a noise from outside. He turned quickly in surprise and tripped over a deteriorating cardboard box. When the box shook, he thought he heard a very familiar sound. Kneeling, he peered into the box and amongst paper, trash and other detritus he found a small box of bullets. That was when he heard the sound from outside again.  Someone was coming.


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