Entry 1: August 17th, 2277

“August 17th, Twenty two seventy, Something I think, I'm not sure now, the clock on my PipBoy has been broken for ages, actually I'm not sure it ever worked to begin with. It is probably almost 100 years old. I just entered the area that used to be the capital of this country. Washington D.C. I've travelled far from The New California Republic, jumping from convoy, to convoy. The last one was an Enclave convoy, I was lucky I wasn't caught; they probably would have killed me right then and there. I need supplies, I'm down to my last bottle of pure water, my M1 Grande needs repairs, and ammo. All I'm stuck with is my 10mm Pistol and combat knife. I’ve heard rumors of a place called 'Megaton' near here. Seems some crazy bastards built a town around an undetonated atomic bomb, idiots. Right now I'm resting inside the cave entrance to some old vault. There was some commotion inside earlier, I heard gun shots and the door started to open and some guy came running out, but he was shot in the back and fell to the ground, I hid in a crevice in the rock wall, and I don’t think anyone saw me. They sealed it back up, and nothing has happened since. The guy who ran out was dead and there was nothing I could do for him, he looked young. Not any older than 20 I'd say. Poor bastard. I had a look at his PipBoy, a newer model then mine but incompatible. I looked over his notes; it seems he was leaving to try and find his father. Someone named James.”