Mike Daly's Journal (3)

**Mike Daly's Journal (3)** is a journal found on a survivor within Mass Bay Medical Center.

## Transcript

"31/10/2077

Woke up yesterday to a couple barrels in my face. The owner
of the Boylston Club wasn’t too happy to see ne asleep in the elevator. It didn’t
take long to get him to lower his gun, I could see he was scared about
something but wasn’t willing to talk. Man knew how to dress though. That suit
he was wearing looked like it cost more than I get in a year. Outside I noticed
it was dark, the sunlight barely penetrating the thick dark cloud, a nimbus of
Olympian proportion. I got to the hospital about midday and… well it’s a
shitstorm to say the least. The few nurses and doctors that didn’t flee have
been overwhelmed with people, most of whom with radiation burns, fractures,
faces covered in glass from exploding windows. The worst part is; most of these
people were dead before they stepped into the hospital. I thought I’d seen some
horrors fighting the Reds but… Christ why’s it have to come to this? It started
raining a while ago. I thought it was just night time when it started. It was
pitch black to look outside but then I realized I couldn’t see any of the
street lighting either. I looked closely at some drops and saw the rain itself
was black. I quickly got as many people together as I could find to block the
remaining windows just to be safe.

11/03/2077

Been a crazy few days. Don’t really have any medical
training so most of my time is spent moving dead bodies to the incinerator. Had
to take down some crazy lady that accused her husband of stealing her last bit
of food, despite being in a coma. She stabbed him in the neck. I shot her the
moment she lunged at someone else. I’ve been smart to hide my rations; there’s
no point in sharing with people who will be dead soon. It stopped raining
finally but the clouds haven’t cleared up. Found a working radio in the
basement but still haven’t heard anything on the standard military channels. Either
everyone’s gone encrypted or those of us left here are the last remaining
members of the United States Armed Forces.

11/06/2077

It’s been a few days since the rain stopped. It occurred to
me that since it began we haven’t had a single new visitor to the hospital, not
through the street entrance, at least. Some people are still coming here from
the metro tunnels. Looks like a fair number have survived down there,
relatively unharmed. ‘Heard rumors of a vault down there that isn’t closed yet
too… I hope so. My cousin’s a musical prodigy and was accepted into Vault 92. It
makes me feel a little better knowing she’s safe along with all the others that
managed to get into vaults.

I did a little scouting with one of the nurses here. He didn’t
speak much, but then again, what is there to talk about? We just walked around.
It’s eerily quiet out on the streets; saw one person alive, but they scurried
off when I called to them. There are bodies everywhere, many more than last
week. They all look like hey suffocated trying to get shelter from the rain. Surface
is practically painted black. I didn’t bother to stay outside long.

11/10/2077

I’ve been found out. One of the nurses caught me nibbling
rations in the little broom closet I claimed for myself. She nearly broke down
and cried when I offered her the last half of a chocolate bar to keet it a
secret. We talked for a while and then she crashed on my sleeping bag."