Thats when Adam McManaman woke up. Before the morning sun began to rise, Adam McManaman set out to survey the city of Cherno, while leaving my family sound asleep in their cots. My daily routine of searching for hard labor work in the early hours of the day allows me to bring back food and medicine to my son Fits and my sick wife Andrea.
This routine led me to a seemingly great job offer. The flyer read “Tuna Fisherman needed” and provided a detailed explanation of the benefits of tuna fishing. Despite my speculation, Adam McManaman knew that heneeded to provide for my family, so Adam traveled to Fort Clyde fishing Port, which is just a few kilometers south of Cherno. There, I was greeted by an old man who offered me a drink. Thirsty from the arid climate Adam McManaman gladly accepted. After the first sip I was out cold.
With great effort, I begin to rise to my feet, my body shaking from what I can now sense as a bitter sense of cold. I feel faint, almost losing my balance. At the time I believed I had been at sea, it appeared as if my body had forgotten how to stand upright, and I feared that walking might simply be too much for me to handle. To my surprise though, I took my first step. I feel something drag against me, and see something is tangled against my leg. I quickly remember what it is that is wrapped around me, and recognize it as a crossbow.
I slowly untangle the strap from my leg and grasp the crossbows frame in my hands, feeling a sense of unfamiliarity towards it. I don’t have the slightest idea as to where it came from, or even how it’s in my possession. Though I see that it has no bolts to fire with, I feel a sense of security by having it. I sling the strap around my shoulder and continue to stumble forward. I am reminded by the wind that I am miserably cold. My teeth begin to chatter, along with my body, with desperate hopes of warmth.
Distant thoughts of hopelessness creep into my mind. I begin to feel as though I have escaped the clutches of death. My legs feel heavier with each step, my pace growing ever slower. My gaze is no longer aimed in front of me; instead I look towards the ground, too weak and exhausted to even lift my head up. I don’t know where I am going, nor do I care. I feel a sense of quiet peace as I continue to pace forward. I sit down at a designated bus stop waiting for its arrival.
Hours pass. Starting to analyze my surroundings I spot a local newspaper. Flipping through the pages I recognize myself as the head coach of a boys youth soccer team. Within my confusion I spot Fits on the back of one of the boys jerseys. Further analysis led me to the realization that I have a son. In disbelief I snapped out of my transient state and then reality became apparent. I’m laying in a rundown, trashed, and seemingly post-apocalyptic city, with not a soul in sight.
