Sam Printer looked over the letter that he held in his hand. Crinkled and stained with age but with new bright black ink in his handwriting. The voices in his head, his constant companions jeered at him and goaded him as he re-read what he had written to the leaders of Lucky 7. Sam’s apprenticeship was over this month and he would either be accepted or rejected as a full caravan member this month at the trade meet. The voices screamed out his worst fears, while his logical side pointed out that he would be fine. However, due to his own insecurity and awakened drive to be part of a community, he sealed the letter in a ragged envelope that had probably been used a thousand times to hand over to the caravan bosses. They had a right to know his past and as we wandered over to Gus, Soarin, and Roscoe he recounted the letter to himself.
Dear Sirs,
It is expected that at some time at the next trade meet in Bravo, I will be accepted as a member of Lucky 7 Caravan. I look forward to this opportunity and am excited by the possibilities. It is my belief that I have handled myself well (except perhaps that time I shot Gus) and appear to get along with other caravan members. In my tenor as Apprentice Printer, I’ve acquired not only new blueprints for the caravan, but have also learned the basics of sword play, parrying and making an income from my services (over half of which has been donated to the caravan for even more blueprints).
Despite my accomplishments, a cloud hangs over my head because you do not know my story before I arrived to Bravo. It is my hope that you will judge me accordingly to the Sam Printer who stands amongst you now, versus the coward that Sam Printer of old was… perhaps still is, but able to stand and fight despite it now.
As you probably know, my Bay Walker parents abandoned me when I was a young lad, because I was too big and clumsy for my own good. I suppose I can’t blame them for abandoning me, after as it was the noise I made while out searching for food that would invariably cause Zed and other predators to come after us, as a family, as a group, and even as a community. I don’t blame them. However, against the odds I did survive. Probably because while I may be big and ungainly, I knew how and when to hide and how and when to run. Something that as I became older and traveled away from the shores of the Coast lost that ability. Probably because of environmental and geographical shifts that I was not practiced in.
In the end though they kicked me out when I unwittingly led a huge herd of undead into our very community and more than half of the people there perished. I suppose it would have been better for the community to simply kill me, or have my parents do it. Instead they abandoned me in the swamps and left me to die that way. However, as is already evidence, I did not die then.
Along the way I was picked up by another community. It was a strange community of misfits and outcasts. Made up mostly of Remnants, Retrogrades, and maybe even a Yorker or two. The man who took me in there, who became like a father to me was Remington Masters. A Gunslinger-Preacher Farmer, he was a good soul. Too bad he would kill me now if he saw me and I couldn’t blame him. Of course, I’m pretty sure he’s dead too and thus not a threat to me.
Long story short, I fell asleep one night while on guard duty. The worst sin you can do when you are the one on watch. I was so sound asleep that I missed the Raiders encircling our little town and when I woke couldn’t do anything but stay hidden. I was a coward. The things that I watched that night and the next day are not things I will repeat here. Only that I witnessed it. Heard all the screams, heard all the voices calling out for help. I did nothing. I suppose one of them shrinks would say that those voices in my head that I comment on and even answer on occasion are those same voices…
Anyways, there it is. All out on the line. I promise I’m not the same coward that led two communities to their demise and I am haunted with their memories, faces, and voices. Yet, I am responsible for all of it. My only hope is that I am capable of being a part of the Lucky 7.
Will you take me in?
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