Day 2922

Bridger’s History Book

Night has fallen and we have circled the vehicles in the sand for protection like the Silver Man had shown us long ago. The vehicles bear new scars and damage from our road battle against the Warlord Ignis and his gang. Their nitro powered death machines easily out maneuvered us, their armored motorcycles and weapons were far superior to ours and they shot us up pretty bad. We lost a lot of good people today, including our leader, the Silver Man. He fell from the back of the old truck after being shot down by a bevy of arrows from one of Ignis’ gas guns.

There has been no weeping for our fallen friend, but there is a great deal of stunned silence. The Silver Man has been our leader for so long that we hardly know what to do or say. There has been some mumbled talk about going back to find him and bury him, which I can’t allow. The Silver Man knew all too well how Four Oh Seven Three the ways of the old world could be. If we went back to find him, it could open us up to another attack from the remnant of Ignis’ gang, or worse.

To honor him, we continue to do as the Silver Man taught us, circled vehicles, armed watches posted through the night, fires kept very small and shielded from sight. And even though it pains us, we will honor him by leaving him where he lay. He would never want us to endanger ourselves on his account, not even for salvage.

I have Crash, our black thumb, look over the vehicles to make essential repairs to keep us mobile. He leans in close to the blackened engines with his little lamp to look for wear and damage, occasionally wiping his hands on his grease covered overalls. We can repair armour and such later while we’re on the road.

The sky is clear and the air is quiet as I took my turn atop the old truck for watch. In the morning when we rise and paint our fingertips with the chrome paint, it will be with new meaning, it will be to honour and bring to mind our mentor and friend, the Silver Man.