From the memoirs of “Ace” Knighthawk…..…it took me a few moments to realize that I was not about to be vaporized into a million fragments of light. Apparently, the Executive Preservation Shelter had worked exactly as advertized. At first I was worried that I might be all alone in a nuclear blasted hell, but looking toward the direction of the old convention center, I thought I could see someone moving. Ignoring them for the time being, I turned and headed for what was once the parking lot. It took me quite a while to find my car among the twisted, rusted hulks lying scattered about. Luckily my car, a SuperNova by Champlain Motor works, had a rather distinctive shape. I could tell immediately, that what the blast hadn’t destroyed had long ago been salvaged from the car. The engine was practically non-existant and the driving compartment was completely stripped. I was able to find an old pair of sunglasses and a holotape of King’s greatest hits shoved under the ruins of the passenger seat.
…walking around to the trunk, I discovered it closed and locked. Someone had tried very hard to break it open, but luckily for me they hadn’t succeeded. I was very thankful that whoever it was hadn’t damaged the lock enough to keep my key from working. Looking inside, I took a quick inventory of the trunks contents. In the trunk was my duffle bag packed for the weekend, my portable holotape player, a roadside emergency kit, a flashlight, a tire iron, a towel and a pack of twonkie snackcakes which probably still had a couple of more decades to go. Satisfied, I scooped everything into the duffle and slowly closed the trunk. I said a silent farewell to the once shiny new car that I had only owned for a week, molified by the fact that at least I wouldn’t have to pay it off.
…Hefting the duffle and tire iron, I popped the holotape into the player and headed back toward the building where I had seen people moving about. As the song “Princes of the multiverse” played through my earbuds, I tried to come to grips with all that had just happened. I figured that I should have felt some sorrow over all that I had lost. But I just couldn’t, I was too excited to be exploring the unknown. Oh the sorrow and regret would find me soon enough, but for now my sense of adventure (the reason I had become a stuntman and test pilot rather than a lawyer) had taken over.
…When I finally reached the old convention center I suddenly found myself wishing that I had bought that really nice 9mm at table 6!