The Seventh of April
I privatized some journal entries because I wasn't sure if I should reveal them to the world. But the laptop's running low on batteries and we haven't got a new generator to replace the older one, so the energy's just for the basic stuff. I figure if anyone's alive out there and they see this, I gotta keep the blog updated so they know if the Settlement is still a safe haven, or if we've killed ourselves off.
I can't lie though. New York ain't the safest place to be, even before the shit hit the fan.
Anyway. My leg's okay now. They let me tag along nights again, but instead of sticking to just three people like usual they insist on keeping it to four. They mean well, but I can't think of it as anything except a big "You fucked up" sign plastered across my forehead. I can't take it back though.
Got no one to blame but myself.