Round 1 - Adam Rossi
Journal Entry, date: March 2nd, year 48
After wandering the streets for countless hours, picking locks until my fingers were blistered, looking around in the dark until my eyes were laced with red veins, and of course dodging the eyes of every one of the dictator's guards, I finally found a single motorcycle locked away in a dark garage under a tan tarp. I checked the tanks for gasoline or oil, but didn't find either. The bike had obviously been locked away for years, as there was no end to the amount of dust on it's cold, steel alloy shell. The model seemed to be an Italjet, clearly from the mid 70's. I could tell it used to be a racing bike back in it's golden days. It was surprisingly light for a bike, but that's what Italjet was known for. After dusting the old thing well into the night, I closed the garage door, laid out the same tarp which was laying sodden over the vehicle, and fell asleep quickly. No need in wasting time; it's not like this nightmare would be ending any time soon.
