Survivor Story: Miguel Caldera
- In a green footlocker on the front porch of a house behind and across the street from the Flatwoods Tavern (Responder Volunteer Headquarters). There is a large, rusty truck directly in front of the house.
"Ah, hello person in the distant future! Dassatold us these tapes would be used as historical records someday. Nifty! So, my name is Miguel Caldera.
Let's see, my story begins in an office. I used to be a programmer at Vault-Tec, one of many. Nobody special, you see. And that's okay. I used to stare out that window by the coffee machine and think... shucks, I wish I could leave this job and hike in the woods every day.I'd dream about walking the Appalachian trail, setting up camp wherever I liked, and traveling with close friends! Ah.. the dreams kept me going... And well, when the bombsfell... I was terrified just like anybody else. I wasn't in a vault, so I just, you know, had to figure it all out too. The Responders found me. I had a little campsite, some supplies. I hacked a protectron to guard me while I slept, but... I missed people. I did!
It's been all right, you know? The apocalypse and all. I know that seems weird but... I have freedom now. I can actually help people... I even met somebody - a Volunteer who delivers supplies. Imagine that, right? Even when you think everything is over... it's... it's not. It goes on. I mean it's awful too, don't get me wrong. All the people dead and hurt. But, well, those are things beyond my control, so I'm making the best of it. These days I'm important. People treat me like I matter because... well, there are so few of us that we can't afford to think otherwise. So, for all you future people... just know that we lived through something... horrible. But we did it. Somehow, we're alive... And if you're hearing this, then well... I guess at least some of us made it. Right? So hey, chin up, kiddo! You'll be okay. Okay?"