On The Front Lines—DAY
I have to do site guard duty on the contaminated site. I am crawling through the underbrush, with my rifle. I am attempting to check various weak points on the perimeter fence. My stomach has pains. I wonder if that is radiation sickness from whatever nasty bombs had been dropped here, but I guess I don’t care so much about my health.
Wouldn’t be here if I did right?
I find my way out of the brambles and find the old messenger’s motorcycle they have given me to get around. I first run it into the bushes trying to figure it out, but soon have it zooming not too fast down the path back towards the main entrance.
There is a guy with a broken down car and a Weimaraner along the path. They inspect the perimeter fence walking sideways. The dog jumps up on the fence as the go, almost able to scale it. Not sure what they are up to but I ought to get back to my post.
As I pass him, the guy starts running. I struggle to pass him on my old junker but manage after a bit. But he keeps after me, saying he is here for a meeting with the electrical folks, so I let him catch up and jump on the back, since I am going that way and want to be in on any meeting going down too.
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