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

Transcript Edit

"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."

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