The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Capital Wasteland

The Definitive Guide to Understanding, Evading and/or Annihilating any and all Dangers Hiding in the DC Hellhole

The following dedication appears in the book:

for Calvert and Desmond
and all your machinations
for listening to reason at long last

Pre-Chapter Six

The Wasteland is vast. If you rarely leave your settlement, you might not realize how stupidly, mind-bogglingly large your home really is. Before the Great War of 2077, the Capital was just one part of a much larger nation of a much larger world and everyone knew that for a fact. Now-a-days we don't even know if China was a real place or just an antique memory from a far off land. One can only hope Shelley did not live and die in vain as so many other classical wordsmiths must have.

It's true what they say: those who do not understand the past don't have a future. Even worse, those who do understand the past are doomed to watch other people surrender the future. In the final days of man, protesters decried America's use of armed invasion as a means to collect oil. Their own countrymen shot those men and women, even the children, on Capitol Hill. Either way, war never changes. Neither do grudges.

In the Wasteland Survival Guide, the lead research editor has a few carefully selected words to say about Point Lookout National Park in Maryland. Under the heading "Point Lookout," the words "Hell on Earth" appear most prominently in large, unfriendly red print which has been underlined several times by hand in each copy. Under this in slightly smaller, slightly less aggressive lettering and in the Guide's standard black ink are the words "Should you value your life at all, heed my advice." Thereafter, the chapter begins in earnest.

"Point Lookout National Park is a danger to all who venture farther inland than ten meters from the shore. It is totally cut off from the world from the north through one of the most violent radiation storms ever recorded and is only accessible by ship on the southern shore adjacent to the old, rotting pier and amusement area.

"Should a friendly voice entice you with the putrid local fruit, word of adventure and untouched treasure with a compelling message of togetherness, you are advised to shoot on site. The previous three masters of the cursed ship Duchess Gambit have been met with very public crucifixion via rail spike on the banks of the Potomac. It would be unsurprising if the fourth such seafarer met with this fate. In fact, I guarantee it. This entry will be revised as more fools Captain the ship.

"Should you find yourself in Point Lookout regardless of my warnings, or worse yet because of the warnings, there are a few things to avoid if you want to stay alive.

"Firstly, read the complete works of Howard Phillips Lovecraft (included in the technical appendix, section 7, sub-section C of the Extended Edition of the Guide. Copyright be damned, this is post-apocalyptia god damn it!). This pre-War horror writer was considered a master of his craft and, having personally experienced Point Lookout before his return to Providence, Rhode Island, a master of artfully telling the truth of the world as no other human in all of recorded history has been able to replicate. The Park is not unlike the descriptions of terrible, un-human locations as dictated in Mr. Lovecraft's work.

"Secondly, make contact with Madame Panada of the local shop House of Wares. Assuming she is still alive, she can guide you with cryptic and barely helpful anecdotes prior to your foolish trip into the swamps. Ah! If she tells you to buy all the ammo and medicine you can carry, it's best just to do as she says. You'll be broke, but your odds of survival go up to an effective 50-50. Much better than certain demise, wouldn't you agree?

"Lastly, if you meet anyone who refuses to give you the full details of their half-conceived plans, get the ever-loving hell out of there and don't look back. The tribals are not there to help you. The Brain is not there to help you. The ghoul isn't there to help you. And for the love of anything you hold holy, do not so much as speak to any member of the Blackhall family. Their book is long gone, never to return.

"In Point Lookout, it is important to shoot on sight. Nothing less will save your foolish life."

Chapter Six

"Fear," the Wasteland Survival Guide says, "is a powerful tool. Throughout history, fear stood as one of the driving factors in control of a population center. This could be obtained in a number of ways.

"The first and most powerful is fear of an all-powerful and/or all-seeing being. Many people used to believe in an unseen, but somehow supreme super-being with the ability to see all, know all and, through some fallacy of logic, have unlimited kindness toward a creation of his that he allowed to war itself out of existence. If as an editor for the Guide, I sound jaded on the subject, it is because the idea of a kind God is appalling after the end of the world."

Appendix note 19.1: It should be noted that one of the Guide's editors is a ghoul living in Grand Rapids, Michigan at the time of the Great War. He was on vacation in Muskegon with family at the time Chicago was bombed and subsequently changed. Mr. Carr is a wealth of information and should be shown respect for his efforts. –LW, 2282

"Fear also comes from other sources. The most prevalent one is violence or the threat thereof. If you, as a leader, execute a man to prove you are willing to go to that length to maintain or establish order, then others are, for better or worse, likely to fall into line.

"During my time in Michigan after the war, this was normal."

The Brotherhood Archives had a security problem that no one seemed to want to fix. Sixteen men in power armor patrolled the halls of the former Pentagon in shifts of four hours. Not an inch of those corridors was left unwatched for longer than moments, but something had been moving in and out of the Citadel for weeks now, always clattering at terminal keyboards and vanishing when a Knight would turn the corner into the Archive chamber.

Every time, a new carving appeared in the rotting drywall behind the main terminal. Sometimes it was a word of thanks, other times initials or the Brotherhoods official designation for the Kid from Vault 101. Not a one, from the freshest Brother taken in from the Wastes to Elder Lyons himself had a clue how the young man penetrated their defenses so often or so perfectly, but they all silently gave thanks that he at least seemed to consider himself part of their organization.

In some ways, the Brotherhood respected what the Kid was doing out in the Wastes; succeeding where they failed in expanding safe territory for humans. In other ways, they wondered in soft tones and hushed voices what drove him so close to the edge of death without ever asking for proper back up. Fear for and of the Kid drove some of their rumors. The older Paladins feared he'd get hurt without their help while the younger Knights and recruits feared the man himself. His execution methods didn't help, but they certainly made the point. If members of the Brotherhood were frightened of his ways, then others were as well.

One day the security leaks stopped, and the rumors stopped, and there was no word from the Kid for several weeks thereafter.

The Guide has extensive files on persons of interest in the Wasteland and beyond. We pride ourselves on being the most comprehensive Guide to the Wastes as possible, and to that end have cataloged people as well as locations. The following was donated to the Guide by various parties including the one discussed and arranged by its lead editor in 2290 at the joint request of the populations of Megaton, 101 City and the Talon Company.

The purpose of this entry and it's placement at the head of the Lone Wanderer's entry in the Guide is to show how this man made the change from one of DC's final Vault Dwellers to our Savior.

Appendix note 36.4: For the love of fuck. Stop treating me like some kind of Messiah. I had a job. I did it. End of story. –LW, 2298

"I suppose it's been long enough since the last time I made a recording so I wanted to get some of this down. If my PipBoy is right, I've been out of Vault 101 for one hundred fifty days. More than four months since Dad died and I've been running around the fucking Wastes doing all this—

"Let me start again. The point is that Moria wanted an account of what I've been up to down on paper. Paper, let alone pens that still work, is hard to come by out in the field. But PipBoy diskettes are all over the place.

"It's the fifteenth of January in 2278. I just got back from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. It was a hell of a lot better than Point Lookout Park was – back-to-back horrors, both places. I need a vacation. Remind me to shoot the shipmaster next chance I get. No one deserves that place. Moria, I think I'm ready now. I know how to beat them. Not the bastard running the Pitt – he and I have an arrangement that may well one day save the Wasteland. But the Enclave. Remember that officer I had Harker hunt down? Call in Sally, Harker and Jones. I'm coming home. I'll need guns. Lots of guns."

From that point, the Lone Wanderer's history becomes a point of contention. There are reports from the Brotherhood of Steel about his combat progress approaching that of a one-man army. There are reports from the settlements around Inner DC that he armed and trained every able-bodied man and woman he could get to stand in a line. There are reports of him dropping honest-to-God nuclear bombs on whole armies that stood in his way.

Appendix note 36.5: Few of these reports can be corroborated by the Guide as many are fantastical in nature and, as it would seem, only partly true. It is worth note that though the Lone Wanderer was once a full time editor of the Guide, he has done little more than add anecdotes or appendix notes to entries in many years. –MB, 2298