Journal 33
August 8-14, 3 PW

We got to West Point. It wasn’t too hard to find, it was just on a rock face on the side of the Hudson river.

Despite the dry cracked scenery, the fires from town, and the faded gray sky, the river was beautiful.

Oh, and the place was ransacked by bandits.

I don’t think ransacked was a good word. Perhaps over run. Taken over. Stolen.

This wasn’t a group of bandits from the other set, these were completely new bandits. They were rallied together, armed, and dangerous.

Originally, the base had been a safe haven for townsfolk from around the base. but during that first year after the final bombs had been dropped, fearful scavengers from other places came looking for a home. When they were turned down, told they were too irradiated and dangers, they teamed together. They pillaged a few towns, raided a few army convoys, and armed themselves well enough to try and take on the West Point military base.

The radiation did more than make them dangerous. It enhanced them.