• DB Baxter

    April 18th, 2285

    Boston, Massachusetts, USA

    10:29 P.M.


    Saishu sat in the back of the aircraft, meditating and waiting for their arrival at the Corvega auto plant. It was difficult for him to find his inner peace, with Rick talking loudly and the radio blasting music at full volume. Someone was singing about how the times were changing.

    “Mr. Deere, could you turn that down?” Saishu shouted, keeping his eyes shut. “I am trying to concentrate.”

    “On what?” Rick spat, twisting the radio dial until the loud singing was only a low hum. “Trying to find your chi or some shit?”

    Saishu sighed. “Something like that. Now please-“

    “Well, I’m sorry, but I like to meditate too. And my meditation requires Bob goddamn Dylan and his guitar, So you can take your ch…

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  • DB Baxter

    April 16th, 2285

    Charlotte, North Carolina, USA

    1:27 P.M.


    In Memory of Donny “Caretaker” Goodwin. 2205-2278

    This is what the tombstone just a few yards outside of the massive fortress. The man reading it, one Terry Culver, was quite surprised to see this here. Helen Castile had told him that the fortress in front of him was home to a band of Gunners, and they didn’t seem like the kind who would honor their dead.

    “Perhaps this was placed here by the previous owners,” Terry said, adjusting his glasses. On either side of the Salvator Representative were drones, armed with assault rifles. Terry had requested them, knowing that he would stand no chance against an army of mercenaries.

    “Let’s go,” Terry motioned to his drones. “Let’s go find this Ston…

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  • DB Baxter

    April 13th, 2285

    Corpus Christi, Texas, USA

    6:37 P.M.

                The overhead sun beat down fiercely upon the head of Richard Barton as he traversed the Texan landscape. Of all the assignments he had been assigned over the years, he hated the ones that forced him to head down to the former Texas territory.  The heat down here being awful, coupled with the lack of water and giant desert creatures being everywhere, made this place almost unbearable. Not to mention that this town was a short distance away from Houston, which took many hit during the Great War and was thus the reason for no moist ground. And he was a very short distance from the radiation fields.

                Ms. Castile knew that Richard hated going into the southern part of the …

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  • DB Baxter

    April 10th, 2285

    Montpelier, Vermont

    9:57 P.M.


                The Danielson family never really bothered anybody. They were decent folks. Husband and Wife with one daughter who was just under five. They had a plot of land just north of the ruins of Montpelier, former capital of the former Vermont state. There, they ran a farm and made a living off of what they could grow and sell. The Danielson’s made enough crops to survive, and enough caps to get by. Who could ask for more?

                Unfortunately, they grew too well, and their success attracted the attention of a nearby raider camp, half-starved and running low on their patience for weary travelers to come by and fork over their possessions. Desperate times called for desperate measures, an…

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  • DB Baxter

    Edward Crane sat anxiously at the control board, awaiting the arrival of the General herself. Although her official title was not General (She didn’t have a title at all), it seemed like that title fit her the best.

                He looked down at the screen again, to see what Rick was up to now. The Ghoul, dressed in a dirty and torn military fatigue outfit and long black cargo pants, was still ranting and screaming at the camera, which he had been doing so for the past 25 minutes. His saliva was all over the lens. Crane sighed and pressed down on a button to open up communication. “Mr. Deere, please refrain from putting more saliva on the Camera Lens,” He muttered into the speaker.

                “I will put my saliva all over this goddamn came…

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