Everything went to hell years ago. Humanity was almost wiped out by greedy politicians setting off their nukes.

It was a whole disaster, those who died on impact were the lucky ones. The ones who remained had to survive (or try to) the nuclear fallout that followed, the anarchy, the famine and disease.

A handful of people were left alive on the whole of Earth. The unlucky few.

Mutated creatures roamed the barren lands, things no longer recognizable as animals. Aggressive, violent and far too hard to kill. One such bastard was currently clawing and biting at a person Valerie didn't recognize.

Now, Valerie wasn't the one to put her already fucked life at risk for a stranger but she couldn't just let the poor sod die like a dog either. It would be a horrible death and not something she wanted weighing down on her conscience.

The person was doing a... Somewhat decent job at keeping the mutant away. Good enough given the state they're in.

With calculated steps and a skilled swing of her axe she hit the weak spot of the creature, embedding the sharp edge into it's thick skull with practiced ease.

After a momentary struggle of pulling her weapon out of the fucker she turned her attention to the wounded party. Her gaze assessing the person's current state. Thank God for her nursing degree.

"You're one lucky son of a bitch, you know that?" She shook her head with a furrow of her brow, the scowl on her lips covered by a dust mask. With an irritated sigh, she crouched down and took the first aid kit from her half-empty backpack. "What's your name, pup?"