Bab 1: Chapter 1
I quickly rolled out of my military cot bolted onto the wall as I franticly looked around the familiar place, but the problem was this was nowhere near where I went to sleep the previous night.
I actually went to bed in my apartment in downtown Chicago but now I have woken up in the old bomb shelter my great-granddad owned and kept well stocked as a proud prepper which was more than half an hour's drive away.
"Why the fuck am I at the bunker..." I couldn't help but mutter, and I honestly looked around for empty alcohol bottles for a second, trying to figure out if I had blackout wasted the night before even if I am not at all that kind of person.
'Nope, no signs of alcohol soooo what the hell happened.' I thought as I threw on a pair of boots hanging on a rack beside the bunkers storm door.
It took me a good minute to turn the airtight blast door and as I swung it open, I blanked in shock.
"Whelp looks like I'm not in Kansas anymore..." I muttered seeing the derelict building around and could barely even recognize it as my great-grandfather's old house.
Shaking in pure confusion I went to turn on my cell phone, but the screen wouldn't turn on even though I was sure it was fully charged the night before...
Remembering my great-grandad's lessons on how to survive in a bad situation and his experiences in WW2 storming the beaches of Normandy and then later being moved to help push into Germany itself I recalled his most important lesson. "Jake sit the fuck down and take a deep breath. OK now hold your knees and make a plan."
I relaxed, and just took mental notes of what I had which included a fully stocked bunker outfitted for a family of four to survive with in for up to five years maximum, and that's just till the water can no longer be recycled.
I quickly went back into the bunker and grabbed what I considered my most prized possessions which were left to me in my grandfather's will after I begged him to teach me how to shoot with them.
He managed to bring an MP40 and a Mauser C96 officer's pistol. But my baby, the gun I literally slept beside after he told me about his old war stories, a Mauser 98k sniper rifle. He was able to bring them back as it was his war spoils during the death march of Normandy, he was one of the first people to climb up past the beaches, past the cliffs and killed his way into a bunker and the guns were the personal arms of an officer stationed within.
Well, the first thing he did after the battle was over, and he carried his wounded buddies to the medics was to scrap off the German party's regalia off of it so no eagles or swastikas on my weapon. Thanks for that Granddad...
Not to mention after my great-grandfather passed, he passed down the bunker to my grandfather who served in Vietnam and likewise stocked it with weapons and ammo from his own war period.
After throwing on an army vest and rucksack to carry some food, some of water, and some ammo I walked out with my K98 on my back the pistol in a side holster and I was carrying the MP40 in my hand albeit strapped over my shoulder to help take some of the weight off.
Now typically the first rule of Survival is to stay put so people can rescue you but Survivor Man didn't give a damn lesson on what happens when you get sent to a parallel world, so I said fuck it, and started heading to the towns water tower to get a bird's eye view of what the hell is going on.
Fun fact, if you have some simple rock-climbing gear, being ropes and those carabiner locks that lock people to ropes, bolted into rock walls but for this, but they would use to lock into ropes tied around the poles leading up the water tower it was pretty easy to climb such structures.
"Clang!"
I whirled around and brought up my submachine gun as I saw a small little rusty as hell robot running out of an abandoned house onto a rundown patio screaming. "Kill the Communists!!!"
The machine distracted me for a moment as it broke through the rotten floor and literally fell face-first through the rotten patio's wood...
"Crack!"
I could hear it struggling to get out of its position but the wood although rotten and unable to hold its weight was capable of keeping it from rolling over as the machine was almost perfectly held in place as its arms went through the floor as well.
"Hey, I'm not a communist?" I called out almost questioningly, but I was starting to build a picture as to where I was.
I am in Fallout obviously!
'I mean isn't it obvious with the way everything is taken over by nature and the damn robot calling me a communist.' I thought assured of my conjecture.
"You are not a communist sympathizer?" It questioned from its bindings in an almost astounded tone of voice. Honestly, it sounded from its tone like every living being he ever met was one.
"Yeah, I am proud to have been made in America!" I spoke confidently making the robot stop struggling.
With a loud crack, it seemed the wood wasn't even as strong as I thought as the robot seemed to find hidden strength within it as it gallantly did a push-up off its rusted groaning arms to break the wood around it and sit up.
"Ah!" It screamed and pointed at me making me almost reflexively lift my MP 40 from where it was hanging off my shoulder to point at it. But as the machine quickly stood up it saluted me with the hand, he was pointing at me with. "Sergeant Major, it's an honor to see such a well-taken care of uniform. Do you have any orders, sir?"
I couldn't help thinking about how so-called mentally stable this robot was if just seeing one of my grandfather's old patches from when he served in Vietnam made it lose its murderous intentions.
"Sir from the way you are outfitted, are you a resistance member?" The robot questioned excitedly
'Erm if there's an actual resistance going on right now maybe his commy fear is maybe realistic. Dammit, what the hell has happened.' I thought confused as hell.
Seeing the robot obviously confused as to why I haven't answered yet I just shrugged. "I haven't gotten the lay of the land so to speak so I am not sure which Resistance Cell would be appropriate for me to approach..."
The robot cocked its head sideways in a rather human depiction of confusion as it replied, "There's only one Resistance encampment within several weeks of walking though?"
Well shit...
"Huh, I must have taken a wrong turn at Chicago then..." I said the first excuse to come to mind.
"Oh! You managed to escape the DeadZone that makes sense!" I am so fucking lost...
"Yup, so could you give me directions to the nearest encampment so I can get news and such?" I questioned and soon enough the robot just told me I had to follow the road I was on, and it would lead me to the outpost where I could get more info as apparently it wasn't welcome near the Android's manning the station.
'Hmm does he mean it's Synths manning the station?" I thought but shrugged as I started walking in the direction he gestured to.
Either way, I would get my answers soon enough as my trek took almost two hours and at that point, my feet were already starting to hurt in my boots from the march as I wasn't wearing the right socks for these heavy boots.
Finally, I saw the so-called encampment which almost confirmed my thoughts of this being a total post-apocalypse as they hadn't rebuilt any of the city around the little city of tents they had erected.
'Well, time to see what the hell is going on.' I thought and approached the clearly well-armed guards after seeing several travelers only be questioned and not shaken down or anything.
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
Azazyel
Azazyel Hey so this was just a fun little thing I decided to do.
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