'So Shiny, So Chrome' takes place 13 years after The Fall, a combination of the Oil Wars that came to a climax with a nuclear event. Our setting is the Wasteland, once the Australian outback. Wildlife mutated by radiation prowls the wasteland; weather is harsh and highly unpredictable; roving gangs of survivors fight for what remains of precious resources.
What a day, what a lovely day.
----- Season: Winter Weather: Days 8°C/Nights -10°C
Winter has descended once again on the Wasteland as merciless as ever. Days are cold, and with little cover the high winds are all the more biting; even without snow, hypothermia and frostbite are a constant threat. The only relief is that many of the Wasteland's creatures are in hibernation.
Post by Nolan 'Chief' O'Rourke on Sept 8, 2018 0:33:22 GMT -5
7 weeks after evacuation
I'm jotting thoughts down before they drive me insane buzzing around in my head.
It's been 7 weeks since the rushed evac of Sydney. I would've started a journal/log/whatever sooner if not for how unbelievably preoccupied I've been...
Here are the details that matter, because otherwise I'll be writing a novel:
•We're at a refugee camp in the Australian Outback •I have about 1 platoon of my Marines with me •We've had no news from Sydney since we left •For some reason there's a volunteer unit of Boston police officers here
With how thin our military's been spread, we started sending volunteers from our various police departments and sheriff's offices to bolster our allies; why the cops from Boston got picked for Australia, who the fuck knows. But besides us they're the only other Americans I've seen since we pulled into port, and we've more or less been sticking together.
That's not why I decided to suck it up and start journaling.
We had an incident. We had an undertrained and overly anxious rookie shoot one of his own, directly in the head. It was an accident, but I didn't find that out until much later; I spent too long rucking with Marines to see someone go down after a hit like that to think about much else but how to save them.
It was bad, too. Any head injury is cause for worry, but to this day I'm amazed he lived, much less that he wasn't made a vegetable. Guy's name is Lorenzo Sabatini-- his buddies called him 'Fettuccine' and 'Santorini' before he got hurt, now we've collectively taken to calling him Enzo. People come back sometimes after injuries like that, but when Enzo woke up not knowing his own name, well...
Yeah. They didn't take away his badge or anything, but he's pretty much been retired.
Having gotten to know the guy --I was first on scene, I assisted the surgery, and now I'm doing a lot of the 'nursing' type duties post-op-- it's just that much more of a shame it had to happen to such a ball of fucking sunshine. That's what I've been calling him, by the way, Sunshine; I can't draw it for shit, but Enzo has one of those 100-watt movie star smiles that lights up a room. And he's always happy to see me, even when he doesn't remember who I am.
Maybe some subconscious thing, since my face was the first thing he saw after being shot?
Enzo does have these episodes where he forgets things; sometimes a few days, a few years, sometimes his whole identity. Haven't figured out yet what triggers the regressions, but thankfully they've all been temporary. So far.
I'm still amazed by the amount of mental faculties still intact... He's weak, of course, from the injury and operation and such, but his motor skills are coming back with physical therapy, no disruptions in speech, and his PD buddies assure me his personality is pretty much the same too.
Kinda been coming to look forward to our chit-chats throughout the day; the whole world has basically gone to shit, knowing I can make someone happy just by being there really does lighten the burden on my shoulders a bit.
Post by Nolan 'Chief' O'Rourke on Sept 14, 2018 11:22:35 GMT -5
8 weeks after evacuation
I don't believe in miracles, but Enzo's recovery has been smooth sailing, all things considered.
It's been a couple weeks since Lorenzo Sabatini was the victim of friendly fire and was shot in the head by a rookie who mistook him for a threat. While he's still in recovery (and will have a long way to go), his speech and motor skills continue to improve, though his memory is still very touch-and-go. At one point when I was giving him one of his daily check-ups (changing bandages, administering medications, etc.), he asked if I was a male stripper. I just about pissed myself laughing, not sure if Enzo understood what was so funny.
On other occasions he's mistaken me for his old CO back in Boston PD, an old boyfriend, and sometimes forgets who I am altogether (but mentions that I seem familiar).