The Wild North is cold…
Colder than anything that a southerner could ever imagine…
But…
It's home.
200 years ago a great plague came down upon the world when nations of pride and glory bombed it into a perpetual hell.
200 years ago my ancestors fled from the war-torn city of Anchorage into the vast tundra of what used to be Canada.
200 years ago they found their forever home in a region known as Yukon, the place where even I reside today.
…
January 8th, 2284
The snowstorm worsened. Jackie's dead. God bless his soul.
He strayed too far away from camp… we only found his ashes…
Damn commies.
On the brighter side, Sam returned from what used to be Whitehorse with a few dufflebags of stuff.
Hopefully the by the end of the month, Ben will be back.
…
August 28th, 2284
Ran into a couple traders from Haida.
None of them spoke a lick of English, but we were able to barter.
Ben really pulled through, even got us a nice place to settle down.
It's amazing that after all this time, all these years disconnected from our heritage, that we can finally see our heartland.
Washington they called it. Named after our forefathers.
Anyway, British Columbia doesn't seem to be interested in Democracy.
March 12th, 2285
I had my very first "pizza" today.
I've heard it was an American cuisine from before the war and now that I've tried it, I can say it lives up to it's reputation.
Washington is quite the wild place. First, mutants and purists in the east fight each other over Spokane, while people claiming to be from a republic down in California come into town.