It’s been 3 weeks since the bomb first dropped. Right now, I’m laying on the ground, cuts, bruises, and scrapes everywhere on my body, bleeding to death. Maybe going in a highly radiated zone with just a RAD-suit and a 9mm pistol wasn’t the best idea. I grab a bandage from my backpack and start to apply it to the massive three gashes on my chest. Half way through, I see it emerge from the lurking shadows and stare at me with stone-cold eyes. He plants his limbs into the dirt, and prepares to charge. I brace myself and raise my gun.