Dead Pixels: Fallout Lore

Leave it to the government to fuck everything up. I wouldn't be surprised if some secret government agency fuck up is the reason this hell was unleashed on us to begin with.  Little did I know my distaste for civilization would prove to give me a leg up when the "Flu" hit.  Problem now is all those stupid motherfuckers in the towns are now hordes of undead assholes surrounding all the good supply spots. I will say it gives me great satisfaction every time I put one of them down. They have the same dumb, clueless faces they had when they were alive.  Only difference now is they try and bite your face off, instead of wandering around staring at their cell phones.  But I'm getting sidetracked. After I retired from the military at 38, I decided to stick with government work and double up my pension.  I took an easy job working at the Post Office in West Point. Rented a small apartment overlooking main street and bought a cabin on the outskirts of Muldraugh that I could get away to on weekends and holidays.  I spent them hunting and building my little "bug out" palace for when SHTF.  I didn't believe civilization would fall in my lifetime, just making my retirement home when I got done with this Post Office gig at 60 and could leave all the fucktards behind permanently.  I poured just about every dime I made into that place. Stocking it up little by little.  Pretty soon it was pretty damn self sufficient.  And it was enough to keep my sanity after dealing with the populace 5 days a week at the Post Office. It was pretty good for a few years.  But if military life taught me anything, it's that nothing good lasts forever.  So it was about 3 years later when the Universe decided to fuck with my zen.  Mrs. Anna Windsor was the Post Master when I started this gig.  She was a sweet older lady.  In her late 50s.  She'd been running the WP center for 40 years.  Started out as a clerk right out of high school and worked her way up to the top spot. She was one hell of a boss and really knew how to keep a team motivated.  She constantly reminded me that she was soon up for retirement ant that I would make a good replacement.  But I kindly deferred. I spent enough time being in charge when I was in the military.  Not for me anymore.  I just wanted to do my simple job, supervise no one, have no major responsibility and head for my cabin every chance I got.  Finally she gave up on trying to convince me and she put in her papers. She had post retirement plans as well. To open up a bed and breakfast on Midway Island.   Well it was hers and her husbands plan.  But unfortunately he was killed in a car accident about 10 years ago. Driving back from Muldraugh in a snow storm.  Lost control of his car and hit a tree.  But Anna being as loyal as she was, was determined to keep her promise to her deceased husband.  She sold her house in WP and took the life insurance money to start the B&B on Midway Island.  From what I can tell it seemed to be quite successful.  I kept promising her I would come out to visit, but I just never found the time to catch the ferry over to it.  Now I spend an awful lot of time wondering if she's still alive. I guess when shit gets settled again around here, I'll see if I can get a boat fixed enough and find out for sure what happened.  But I'm drifting again.  Anna's leaving though ended up saving my life.  When she left,  Brandon Simpkins. A 28 year old, hipster douchebag showed up to run the office. I've seen and worked for just about every type of leader out there in my service years. And knew immediately this was not going to work for me. You know those people that you just can't stand their face? Brandon was a text book definition of that. He was a short, pudgy, conceited fuck.  Liked to bully the other postal workers due to some deep rooted sense of insecurity.  Momma probably didn't hug him enough as a child or some shit. He particularly like to go after George Simmons.  George was the longest serving of the mail men.  Just a real quiet guy.  Kept to himself. Brandon would go after him any chance he could get.  Guess it was because he never fought back.  I guess I always knew in the back of my head that it was only a matter of time before I'd have to lay my new boss out.  I used to have a real bad temper when I was a kid.  I mean scorched earth, nothing left unscathed bad.  But I learned early on that would not be beneficial to carry on in my adult life.  So I adopted the mantra of "Be nice, until it's time not to be nice"  Fortunately for me, that came a few days before the "Flu" hit.  It was just after we opened for the day.  I was enjoying a fresh brewed coffee in the back when I heard a commotion up front.  We I opened the door and looked, I saw George had dropped some packages on the floor.  And Brandon was already on top of him.  Screaming at him about how he was a clumsy, dumb fuck. Knocking the packages out of George's hands as he tried to pick them up.  Customers left feeling awkward, hurried out of the front.   So I loudly told Brandon to knock it off. He quickly turned to me and told me "to shut my fucking mouth, old man"  The insult bounced off me.  But the next action did not.  Brandon turned back to George and grabbed him by both his shoulders.  And with that, I just reacted.  I jumped over the counter and as I landed, Brandon turned to look up at me.  In one motion I caught him with a full on right cross on the side of his fat, pudgy face.  He immediately crumpled to the floor.  I was pretty sure I just killed him.  George scrambled to the corner.  911 was called.  And there lay Brandon.  A bloody, shallow breathing mess with a few teeth laying on the floor next to him.  Luckily he was coming to when the ambulance arrived and took him to the hospital. I know the Sheriff.  Former Marine and all around good dude.  He made me promise not to leave the area and suggested I head up to my cabin.  They'd send a detective in a few days once everything settled, and go from there.  Well I would never see him or Brandon again.  The "Flu" would hit 2 days later in Knox County and the undead would take over. 

Being isolated out at my cabin saved my life.  I'm sure of it.  I started hearing reports through the radio and tv before they cut out. I had some friends who were able to make it to my cabin.  And we recruited a decent amount of good people and started a little community around my cabin.  Made loot runs into town.  Clearing out the undead in pockets a little bit over time.  But remember what I said about the government?  Yeah those assholes fucked it up big time.  We almost had Muldraugh cleared out and were making our push to West Point when I guess the military got overrun on the bridge into Valley Station.  And they responded by carpet bombing the fuck out of VS and part of WP.  All that effectively do was attract every undead asshole from 150 miles away.  You guessed it.  A massive horde of hundreds of thousands of zeds started pouring down from Louisville.  The military's response...tactical fucking nukes.  The road to Lousiville is now filled with radiation filled fucking zombies.  And there is no way to get through.  It's a wasteland.  And the fallout forced us to leave our little community.  We fell back and took over Fort Redstone from the undead.  The military had abandoned it early on in the fight against the zeds.  Problem is, we only had what was on us and in our vehicles.  So now we have to decide to rebuild here or move out and see if better options exist south and west of Knox County.  Because north of Valley Station is a dead zone.  And I gotta get that boat fixed.  Make me a trip to Midway Island.  Got an old friend that's hopefully still alive...