Post by Mark Durham on Jan 1, 2009 19:50:03 GMT -5
Name: Mark Durham
Age: 39
Description: 6', medium build, brown hair with a receding hairline, blue eyes, strong jawline
Story:
Mark Durham, an average Joe, runs a general store just off what used to be the Vegas strip. He never attended college-- that had never been his thing-- instead he had worked retail all his life. Eventually he had fulfilled his life's dream and opened his own store. He had been happy. No man was his boss, he made enough money to live comfortable; he had no wife, though in Vegas he never lacked for companionship.
Before Z-Day his general store had just been a small convenience store, but since then it had been converted to fit the needs of the neighborhood and now carried all the essentials for the new age. Mark felt a sense of pride in owning of one of the last independently-owned stores in Vegas. Most shops hadn't survived the apocalypse, but Mark had been vigilant and Paradise Mini Mart had continued to operate under his control. Of course, there had been some changes. Where before he stocked mostly soda, bags of chips, candy bars, and cigarettes; he now had clothing of all kinds, alcohol, canned food, rope, tools, knives, and even a selection of guns and ammo. Before he accepted cash and credit; now he only traded for other supplies.
Of course it wouldn't last. The new government was taking over all the shops. It wouldn't be long until they closed his as well. Every day he opened the store with a growing sense of anxiety wondering if today would be the day the troopers, armed to the teeth, would rush in and take it all from him. He had enough firepower of his own to keep off the criminal and the desperate, but not enough to keep the government away.