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Morning Glory Cave terminals

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Terminal[edit | edit source]

Note: This desk terminal is located on the makeshift desk with the lawn chair in front, in the Morning Glory cave.

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Zion National Park Network

Year 2108.[edit | edit source]

Note: Accessing this entry adds Year: 2108 to the Courier's PIP-Boy 3000.

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August 22nd
10 sets of tracks 1/2 mile NE of canyon entrance. Barefoot???

August 23rd
Saw them through scope. Corpses walking around. Finally gone crazy. Dementia maybe.

August 24th
I'm not crazy, they're real. Goddammit they are real.

Rushed me the moment they saw me, snarling like animals. They look like corpses but don't smell rotted.

I'll be putting them out of their misery. Doing for them what I never could for myself.

September 3rd
The last of them. All gone.

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> Accessing log...

Year 2113.[edit | edit source]

Note: Accessing this entry adds Year: 2113 to the Courier's PIP-Boy 3000.

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February 5th
Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday you useless old dinosaur, happy birthday to me.

Happy 60th. What do you get a man who has everything?

A bottle of whiskey and a 12 gauge slug through the roof of the mouth! Whoo!

Come now. What do I have to do to prove to myself that I've lived long enough?

I'm a shriveled old man. White beard. Seen enough sunrises and sunsets. Saw the big sunset, been hanging on through the long night 36 years now. Ridiculous.

Not kidding myself into thinking there's anything on the other side of this. Fine. Things weren't so bad before I was born.

Char and Alex. Sylvie and Michael-who-could've-been.

Thoughts of the beloved dead before dying.

Goodbye, Zion.

February 6th
Fucking didn't do it, coward as usual. Maybe two bottles next year.

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> Accessing log...

Year 2123.[edit | edit source]

Note: Accessing this entry adds Year: 2123 to the Courier's PIP-Boy 3000.

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April 25th
24 of them, half boys, half girls. Youngest is 8 maybe, oldest 13-14. Dirty and scrawny, been on foot a long time. Children's crusade.

Struck camp on nearly the same spot as los mexicanos. 30 years and a lifetime ago.

I've spent 2 nights listening to them. English. Literate. One of them reads stories while the little ones fall asleep.[1]

They escaped someplace they call "The School" but can't figure out where it was. When they want a little one to behave they tell him to stop or "The Principal will get you."

Principal better not show up or I'll blow his goddamn head off. I can still shoot straight.

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> Accessing log...

References