Name: Mick Chesterfield
Status: Cut, Bruised and covered in mud.
Age: 27
Description: Blonde Hair, green eyes, fit stature. When this mess started, I had just graduated. Now look at me. I am a traveller, I walk day and night looking for a better tomorrow, well that was what the plan was. Now I wander in hope that
humanity will one day flourish again.
Equipment: Rope, Hook, A backpack with food in it, a knife and a book.
I open my eyes, it is morning. Though no birds sing. The occasional gunshot echoes in the distance and the all to often screams of people being attacked. It's a dangerous world, not like the one you learn about in school. It is rough. My education payed off for nothing, this is me, this is my life. Wandering through the states of America, I came here on a holiday after graduating from England, it makes me wish I never did. The skies are orange, not from a beautiful morning sun, but from the flames of all we once held dear to us.
I am on the edge of Hoover Dam, I spent the night sleeping on a small ledge just below the railings, but on the outside, I must be thankful I didn't roll off in my sleep, but I must now get down. People scour the roads around here, attacking passers by. These people have taken to eating humans, they go by the names of Hunters. I'm not sure if that is because they used to be hunters, or that they hunt other people down and eat them, but I know one thing, cross them once, and it'll be your last.
I get out a mountain climbing hook and some rope I looted before leaving town. I latch the hook on a bar of the railings and tie the other end of the rope to my waist. I begin my descent, the sandy stone tearing away beneath my feet. I look up to check the hook is OK, It is fine. I continue lowering myself very slowly. Heights have never scared me until now. I go down another couple meters and stop for my stomach to catch up with the rest of me. I look up again to check the hook, but there is a man standing there. He looks like a tramp, then again, I wouldn't be one to talk. He waves down at me and grins as he raises a hand to unhook the rope. I loop the right, I am close to the edge of the damn, there is a small ledge of the cliff face, close enough to swing to. I use my feet to propel me left and then swing to the right, not enough, I clamber left again and swing, still not enough. I pull back once more and swing, this time I pushed quite hard with my feet and I manage to grab a rock sticking out of the cliff. I look back up at the man, he takes off the hook, as he is still holding it, I pull on my end. He flips over the railing and his screams echo throughout the area, and a loud thud as he hits the ground adds to that. There are shouts from above.
"Wheres bill, did he just?!"
"Crap, How did he fall!"
"Something must of pushed him off! Or pulled.."
Another man looks over the edge, he is much larger with a heavy build and roughly combed beard.
"We will find the person who did this to Bill, and eat them!"
A loud cheer comes from the damn, Hunters.