Generation 1: Sophia Walker (Intro)

When I left for college, nothing was wrong. I mean, there was the usual idle gossip and ridiculous conspiracies, people hating each other for no reason, things like that.....but nothing was really wrong. Not around here, at least. I guess you could only know that after the fact, when living is a struggle. When nothing is really wrong you start noticing a lot of little "nothings" that you feel are wrong...but then something happens and you realize life was absolutely perfect before. Now everything is wrong, and it makes you appreciate every single little "right" thing that happens.

My name is Sophia Walker, and I went to college to become a writer. I first heard the news while I was working at my part-time job in the school's library. Sometimes after closing, I was allowed to turn on the radio while I cleaned up and put books away. The only thing I remember for certain was the radio saying the nuclear power plant near my home town went critical and was spilling toxic nastiness into the water system faster than anyone could stop it.

The sludge went quickly from the lake to the rivers to just about everywhere. All the plant life for hundreds of miles died instantly, and all the wild animal life quickly followed. All forms of government quickly collapsed and martial law was implemented.

Sometime after army guys started running around the streets carrying loaded weapons I knew I had to somehow get back to my hometown. I packed a few essentials and took the quickest way I could find to get home. There wasn't a lot of people in a hurry to get CLOSER to the disaster, but after a few days of hitch-hiking I was able to find a bike. I didn't loot it, I found it near a bridge. I can only hope the person who was using it before me got a ride with an actual car, and didn't use the bridge to escape our new reality.

It took two weeks to get home using the bike, and the landscape just kept getting worse and worse, and the vehicles that passed me by, sometimes stopping to offer me a ride, sometimes even giving me some food and bottled water when I politely declined, were fewer and farther between.

Finally I came across the half-busted sign that said "Appaloosa Plains/next right." I peddled into town and looked down into the valley. I was home, but everything was changed. I crossed over the river and saw it was a greenish-tinged black slop, that looked almost slimy rather than wet. I knew there couldn't possibly be anything living in that. I cannot describe to you the stench. The dead plants were gone. I wondered if the people who were left burned them; maybe to get rid of the smell that still managed to linger. All I could see was dirt that was a sandy scorched-looking brown.

I tried to bike into town but a group of armed guards stopped me. When I explained my situation they informed me that it was highly unlikely my parents had survived the initial nuclear meltdown. I was urged to turn around and leave but when I told them I did not have enough supplies to go back and I hadn't seen a moving car in three days, they told me I could stay if I wished, but they warned me that things were not what they once were. There were new rules in place, most of them for my own safety.

I insisted that I needed to stay and told them where I lived. They took me to an army jeep and loaded my bike in the back. I climbed into the back of the jeep and three of the guards gave me a ride through the town. My heart sank as I looked around. Everything was either torn down completely, or burned up husks. I felt sad because I couldn't find one single thing that confirmed in my mind that this was my home, this was where I grew up, this place was what made me who I am today. I also felt like I failed my parents since I was away when it happened.

We drove past what used to be my home, but the nasty river had taken back that area. Most of what used to be my parent's property was washed away, leaving rank cesspools of the black shiny liquid. Even the tree that I carved my name into when I was 12 was gone.

My three-armed-men escort said they knew of a "safer" place where some people were staying in fall-out shelters. They said they even knew there was a shelter already built but was currently unoccupied. I asked if the tenant would be back soon and they glanced at each other and said they were pretty sure I could just have it and anything still in it.

One the ride over they quickly explained all the rules to me. I could only go to specified places that I would be allowed to sign up to go to. If I decided the shelter in question was good enough for me, that's where I stayed. Forever. I didn't get to move. I would be assigned a job as soon as a crew could get to me and ascertain what I'd be good for. I would get a military escort to that job every day. Other than that I could not go anywhere, not even to my neighbor's lots. I was not allowed to build on what was already there except by written consent of the acting mayor due to lack of materials that weren't degraded beyond usability.

I would get a weekly stipend of food rations, water rations, and paper to write to family outside the city. I didn't tell them I didn't have any other family. I wanted to keep the paper ration to write what you're reading right now. Writing is pretty much all I've been good for my entire life...I might as well use that to my advantage. Someone should document what's been going on here. Who knows? Maybe these dirty papers will be worth something to someone someday.

There was no garbage pickup, and they told me to be careful to remember that. I could never have more than three items on my person at any one time, excluding the walkie-talkie set they would give me when I got a job, which would be the only way to communicate with my boss and coworkers, not to mention anyone else.

There was a strictly enforced curfew for everyone. They said there were dangers at night. Not even the military went out after dark during a full moon, they said. When I asked why, they implied there were monsters about.

They said there were reports that the radiation was weakening people's muscles and bones, and there was no longer a hospital. The elderly seemed affected more than other people. I was told they go a little crazy, and more than one has wandered off into the desert-like wasteland surrounding the city and never returned. There were no large groups allowed anywhere, not even on my home lot.

There was not enough uncontaminated water for people to bathe. You were allowed one sink and you had to make do with the trickle that came out of it. The toilets would run normally, but it's the river water running through it. The security people I was with warned me to never drink it, or even use it to clean. There were no medicines, any and all drugs that were available in stores have long since been looted. Nothing will grow in the irradiated dirt.

There is no electricity, no helpful gadgets will work anymore....everything is just....gone.

They said we were almost there. We passed by what I instantly knew was the park. Happy memories started flashing in my mind. Looking at what was left was like a scene from a disaster movie. It barely seemed real. All that was left of the play equipment was the swing set with the empty swings swaying sadly in the grit-filled wind. I saw the wreck of the stone bench I used to sit on to wait for my dad to pick me up after school.

Tears threatened for a moment as I mourned all things past that could never be again, and then a small seed of resolve solidified in my stomach.

We were going to recover somehow. Everything will be as it once was again, if I have to work the rest of my life to make it that way.

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