The day started out well enough. The town of Gettysburg appeared to be abandoned, so we took the opportunity to search some of the structures. We came upon a house that was virtually intact, and we decided to see if we could find any useful items. Professor Sokolov carried the two refrigeration units, strapped to his everpresent walking staff and balanced over his shoulders. The house yielded a first aid kit in one of the bathrooms, but the real mother lode was in the cellar, which, in all humility, I was clever enough to discover. Beyond the skeletal remains of the previous inhabitants, I found half a dozen well-stocked med kits. They would prove invaluable over the coming hours.
As we were deep into our search, Ash, acting as lookout, spotted a man running for his life. As he shouted for the man to come inside, we heard an awful chanting of “Dinnah, Dinnah!” I’m not sure if the source of the chanting considered us to be their dinner, or if the word had another meaning, but the house was soon beset by mutants. They were abhorrent to behold, and appeared to be far stronger than any of our number. Ash did his best to keep them at bay with his rifle, but I saw little recourse but to follow Boomer’s advice and RUN!
The next few minutes were a blur of violence and blood, and Boomer—poor, gentle Boomer—did not survive the altercation. I didn’t see Professor Sokolov out in the streets, so I ran back to the house, to see what had become of him. He had fared badly, and his arm was hanging limply at his side. Either from the attack or shock from the pain, he had lost consciousness. We were able to drag him out into the street, away from the house that was now teeming with enemies. The newcomer turned out to be none other than Doctor Nero Stardust. I knew him by reputation from the Ark, as one of our most brilliant surgeons. As most other truly talented surgeons, he had developed rather a strong God complex over the years, but I hoped that he would be willing to share his medical expertise.
Just as matters were looking truly grim, we gained succor from the most unlikely of sources: the sounding of a Grounder horn.