Smog Memories

It was spring . The 456th day after the first test. Across the expanse of dead woodland nuclear dust peppers the morning air like toxic snowflakes. A lone homestead juts out like a nail to be hammered, white against the dull yellowish air. A quick flash of movement from an upstairs window reveals a spectator hungrily eyeing the forest. David Crenshaw takes one hagggered breath before quckily closing the shuteers immediately seeing what he was hoping he wouldn’t.

Ravagers. Fuck. I quickly slide to the floor of the upstairs bathroom gingerly removing my respirator mask careful not to rip anymore hair out of my already patchy scalp, a cheery side effect of radiation,. I stare at the dated log book and recorder to the right of me with a feeling of dread. Picking up the recorder and pressing play the dull red glow of the recorder comes to life. “Log 457. May 8, 2055. David Crenshaw. Field operative command code 31172.” “ The homestead to the north of bunker 28 not only failed to produce enough power to juice my generator but also yielded none of the food supplies I was hoping to find.” Pausing I glance tentatively upwards to the window sill. “My fears as well have been confirmed about the ravagers. Seeming to dwell in caves or abandoned structures dotted through the tristate farm area these canines are still largely effected my the initial wave of Ovincorps experimental nuclear tests.” “ Highly aggressive these once household friends have enlarged to wolf like sizes mutated by Ovincorps z31 gas. On top of their size and aggression biological enhancements have also been observed with sensory elevation as a primary staple.” Their hunting tactics extend far beyond the need for sustanance verging on the need for entertainment or sport..” “Fumbling in my pocket my hand enclosses around a familiar heart shape. Grasping it I pull out a small brass locket shaped like a heart. With reverence I hold the chain in my hand a let it dangle back and fourth in front of me. Almost trying to hypnotize myself. This isn’t happening. Your fine. She’s fine. Everything is ..fine. “ ..Bunker co founder and field operative Raven Harcourt command code 43569 still M.I.A.” Unclamping the fasteners on the right the locket opens on the goofy photo of us she took. Remembering the day it was taken I slip the locker back into my pocket. “Presumed dead.” There’s a tactile click as I shift the recorder off and stare at the cieling. It’s been 456 days since the first bomb. 238 days since Raven went missing. I hear an eerie howl followed by a chorus of return calls as I instinctively reach for her ..my rifle. The carbon finish of the m4 felt good in my palm and as I flick the thermal scope to life and slowly return to my peaking spot at the window sill. Sweeping the landscape of the farmstead the sight before me was escalating In danger. The pack of ravagers I had seen in the tree line initially were now closer joined by a larger group of 5-7 fully grown males. The first group seems to have freshly slain a doe and did not look to privy on sharing. Unfortunately the group of now 12+ ravagers were right in my path to my bunker. Just then a loud crash from downstairs pierced through the silence of the house as all of the ravagers simultaneously whip their heads toward the houses direction. Dropping to the floor immediately.. “fuck” I whisper. Gathering my courage I fumble back up to my viewing post and shiver at the sight. All but 3 of the ravagers broke off the doe kill and were now bee lining toward the house. Frantically checking my ammo I then hurry out the bathroom and down the stairs. To my utmost surprise I find the cause of the noise to be a orange fat tabby cat. It seems to have relocated a vase from the mantel to the floor whilst stretching. I give the creature a curt one finger salute before dislodging the table that has been against the back door and running out. I turn back to see the homestead slowly getting farther and see that it has mostly blocked the ravagers from my view. “Hope that cat fares better than I would’ve” I say aloud to no one. Chuckling I turn back around and *BLAM!* I hear a crack like a lightning bolt before I double over ears ringing and seeing stars. At first I thought I had been shot judging my the sound amd the pain, then I thought that couldn’t be because there’s not a drop of blood. My vision begins to un fuzz when I see the projectile that hit me. A rubber bullet. I stare into the tree line sweeping from left to right with my rifle trying to gauge where the shot came from when “BLAM!* this one hit me on the back just below the spine and once more I stumbled down. As I get up I hear a shrill note coming from the tree line. Almost like a… dog whistle. I look back at the house in horror as I see the first ravagers begin the emerge from around the house. Drawn to the shrill whistle still being blasted from the tree line. Someone was fucking with me. There using me as bait. I start to size up the ravagers. The biggest of the beasts was the size of a small horse and had saliva dripping from his canines. His friends looked just as formidable. I had 2 full clips of ammo but a fully grown ravager I’ve seen can take almost all of that to stop. Gauging my options I click the safety off the rifle and aim at the biggest and closest pup. A squeeze, light and sound, and the ravager was down. 3 round burst in the chest. The other ravagers took a cautious step back at the sound and sight of the thier dead companion but it wouldn’t last long. Firing a few more bursts i then takeoff and sprint towards the south east hoping to take a alternate route to the bunker that will allow me to give the ravagers a wide berth. Sprinting I hear the howls of the ravagers and pickup speed. Dodging over tree limbs, acid pools and radiation all while wearing a respirator wasn’t easy and I kept my hand clenched over the heart locket the entire time. By the time I’m in view of the bunker my respirator is fogged and my forehead is drenched in sweat. As I approach the bunker door I see the glimmer of silver paint. Scrawled out on the door read “The world has gone to the dogs” a deep guttural growl behind me sends chills through my body. Turning I see the giant ravager I had shot. Blood still seeping from 2 separate bullet holes in its torso. Raising my gun it reagurded me coldly looking at me like a lion does a mouse. Before I get a shot off movement to my right causes me to pivot as another ravager shot out of the tree line screaming towards me fangs gnashing. The Alpha ravager stayed put as I suppressed the surprise attacker but to late did I see their tactic. Out of the tree line all around me the brush exploded with movement as the full force of the ravagers pressed upon me. 1 down .2. 3. *WHOOM* the first ravager to hit me trucked me full tilt from behind crashing me to the ground with my arms outstretched and my gun careening away. I felt it’s jaws clamp around the flesh of my shoulder and tear a sizable chunk off. Blood sprayed the dirt infront of me. I realized I had managed to keep the locket clutched in my hand the whole time. I felt more weight and jaws on skin as I opened the locket and faded to black staring into her face.