On the trail

The place was totalled. I didn’t even bother trying to revise my personal tallies for supplies – I just assumed they’d all be near enough to zero that it wouldn’t matter.
Mutants, scavengers, and me with only the food and ammo I had on me. Now I’d even acquired an unlikely and somewhat cute (if you squinted really hard) sidekick. This was turning out to be like one of those dumb books real fast. All I needed now was a scantily-clad, beautiful survivoress to rescue.
The bastards had even kicked my T.V in. It’s the end of the world; we now live in an ashen waste where the only sources of entertainment are painful death and the occasional pigmonster with a fetish for novelty potato chips. Who the hell destroys the last T.V in existence? With a sigh I popped out the Friends DVD – at least they hadn’t wrecked that – and stuffed it into my shirt. Out at the door, Junior was making a fuss, which sounded like a squid being sat on. Going up to him, I saw why – a trail of recent footprints led off into the wasteland.

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