Post Apocalyptic Diaries

Under Seige

How do. I'm still not dead.

So the days ebbed and flowed as days do. Some days were pleasant and I could almost forget about the shit show we'd left the planet in as I basked in the sun taking delight in the smallest things. Other days it rained all day and I sat in my shelter starting grimly out at the world as Bert glared at me from across the way in his tent, blaming me somehow for the lack of walkies. My thoughts invariably turned dark on such days.

I'd occasionally hear quad bikes in the distance as raiders got themselves organized, or perhaps they were hungry having emptied the cities of the easy food. One evening the quad bikes were too close for comfort and I called Bert over and we slipped into a hidey hole I'd dug for just such an emergency. I heard heavy boots tramping up above and I knew that was it for my little place among the peaks. I heard a sharp cry of pain as one of the raiders fell foul of one of my traps.

I slipped my black widow catapult over my wrist and loaded a ball bearing. I quickly popped up from my hiding place and put a two inch ball bearing through the back of a raider's skull. I drew a little cosh from my belt and took another one down from behind. Bert ran out barking to deliberately draw one to me and he went down when one of my ball bearing shattered his knee cap.

I jumped onto one of their quad bikes, whistled Bert who leapt onto the back and we rode away into the night. I'd come a long way from that scared guy in the city penthouse and yet I still ran when trouble came knocking.