text: Journal Entry 236: Winter’s Day, 1347 I think that will do it. The last injection should be the correct formula to introduce plant cells into the human body. Hopefully this will allow me to use the infernal sun’s power as a food source to survive in this accursed winter wasteland. Journal Entry 237: Winter’s Day, 1353 It’s been almost a week, and I’ve been terribly sick. I can definitely tell that the bio serum I injected myself with is working. It’s changing my very genetic structure. I’ve noticed that my eyes are turning yellow, and my skin has a green bioluminescence to it. I guess I should have thought about the fact that my skin would be the primary source of dietary consumption, if I really am turning into a plant. Does this mean I’ll have to walk around naked all the time? Good thing there’s no one else around to see my tree stump. Lol. Journal Entry 238: Winter’s Day, 1354 First report of sun feeding: I’m totally sunburnt! I spent three hours topside yesterday afternoon, walking around in my birthday suit, and I’m burnt from head to ankles. I have a stupid tan line where my boots were, and there’s funky tan lines also where my backpack straps were. I’ve been lonely for so long that I never thought I’d actually be glad no one is around to see how stupid I look. Journal Entry 239: Winter’s Day, 1364 It’s been ten days since my last report. I’m struggling to eat solid foods. The canned goods I have stockpiled in the bomb shelter are not staying down. I’ve had violent diarrhea every time I eat, and I’m manically thirsty. It’s like I’m addicted to water. I think I’ll try infusing water with fruit sugars for added nutrients. I feel like I have to start experimenting with plant fertilizer just to feed myself properly. This experiment is just getting weirder and weirder. Journal Entry 240: Winter’s Day, 1374 Another ten days. I’ve been spending significantly more time topside, naked. Emerging from the bomb shelter no longer hurts my eyes, but being inside actually does. I think my eyes have adjusted to the serum injection, and become sunlight dependent. It’s like my very eyeballs are sunglasses now! Journal Entry 241: Sun Day, 1 I’ve pretty much stopped eating solid foods. My primary source of sustenance is now the blazing sunlight. I don’t even burn anymore. I can actually feel my body absorbing the sun’s rays, and there’s a tingling sensation after about thirty minutes walking around. I think I can actually feel the chlorophyll in my skin cells converting sunlight into energy. I think this mad scientist plan I had of turning myself into a plant has actually worked! I’m officially changing the name of my calendar system to Sun Day, as the nuclear winter is no longer a limitation for me! I’m restarting the number system of how I count days as well. Journal Entry 242: Sun Day, 10 Another ten days has gone by. I think I can officially say that I’m no longer reliant on basic human foods. I have the digestive system of a plant now, requiring only sunlight. I’ve decided to pack up my belongings and start searching for other survivors. The last survivor I ran into was two years ago, and they mentioned a settlement near Taos, New Mexico. I think I’ll head down that way and see what I can find. I’ll need to follow the river though to make sure I have water, but that’s good desert country and I’ll have plenty of sunlight for food. How neat to say that! Journal Entry 243: Sun Day, 16 It took about a week to finish packing, and I’ve been walking for a few days. I’ve walked about sixty miles, and it’s a barren wasteland out here. The city of Denver is still a smoldering heap of bombed concrete and ash, and I didn’t see or hear any survivors. Perhaps if I find smaller towns away from the major blast centers, I’ll have more luck finding survivors. Journal Entry 245: Sun Day, 30 Another ten days have gone by. I’ve walked a long way, and still haven’t seen anyone. Am I the only survivor? I have to believe that’s not the case. Journal Entry 246: Sun Day 36 I found people! I’m just outside Chama, New Mexico, and I found a small village that’s established like a trading post. I got some strange looks because it’s not everyday that A: a wanderer comes in from the wasteland, and B: wastelanders probably don’t stroll around wearing only a loincloth. I’ve even stopped wearing shoes because my feet are barklike now so I don’t even need any foot protection. And I’m overall just a green color now, so that scared quite a few people. But these folks, who call themselves Chamites, were overall hospitable. They don’t see me as a threat, although they were rightfully wary at first. I had a great meeting with a group of five townspeople- three women and two men, who gave me a bit of their history. They said they’ve been in Chama ever since the bombs went off. The bombs tended to hit any sizeable population center, or anywhere that there were military installations. So Chama was saved, as it’s always been a small crossroads between Colorado and New Mexico, and not deemed a military target. I spent enough time with the town council to understand that these are not war-like people, but they’ve been having trouble with a group of local raiders that are desperately trying to break into the underground quarters where the people are. Most of the surface level of Chama has been pilfered by this group of marauders, and they want my help as I seem to be the only one who can openly traverse the surface without suffering health consequences. I think I’ll help this group, and maybe they’ll let me stay on with them. Journal Entry 247: Sun Day 40 I’ve been out in the Waste for over a week, surveying the band of raiders harassing the Chamites. There’s about twenty of these scoundrels, but it’s hard to tell who’s who because they are covered head to toe in rags and gear to protect from the sun. They’ve got a cage of Chama captives sitting out in the sun, and they absolutely torment these poor people. The town council told me that I can bring the captives back to the Chama Underground if I can figure out how to spring them. Journal Entry 249: Sun Day 52 I got ahold of one of the smaller raiders, and stashed him in a pile of rocks outside their encampment. He was terrified of my green skin and thought I was an alien. I laughed at that, as Roswell isn’t too far away. But I realized that I have the power to make roots and plants grow now, and I used them to wrap this guy up. Pretty awesome superpower! I’m going to go into camp while everyone is sleeping and quietly wrap vines around the doors of their poorly built housing structures. I’ll free the captives, and come back for my prisoner tomorrow. As soon as the sun goes down and everyone is sleeping, I’ll make my move. Journal Entry 250: Sun Day 53 Last night was terrifying, but successful! I got rolling late, as most of the raiders stayed up drinking some kind of homemade moonshine. Most of them were drunk as skunks by the time they went to bed, so I didn’t have to be as quiet as I had thought. But, I was sneaky and silent, and terrified beyond anything I’ve experienced since the day the bombs fell twelve years ago. Heart thumping out of my chest, and skin tingling with anxious excitement, I made my move. I crept into camp, and tested my powers of growing plants. Reaching out my hands, I concentrated on extending my fingertips. Little shoots sprung out of the ground where I directed my focus, literally willing plantlife to emerge. These neophyte plants grew up, and I was able to use my mind to twist them all together. Once I had created a thick lattice work over the door of the first hut, I focused on hardening these green shoots and turning them into brambles. This made them thick and tough, almost like dead vines. And the beautiful thing is that this only took about a minute of deep concentration! I moved from hut to hut, keeping a careful watch for any guard patrolling the camp. But these raiders didn’t feel the need to be cautious, convinced they were the only ones foolhardy enough to survive topside in the wastes. The sun is so strong on the surface that it burns anything in its view. So I quietly crept from one hut to another, closing off doors and windows. In about an hour, I had the whole camp on lockdown. Just before sunrise, I headed towards the cage holding the captives. There were seven of them, and looked almost dead. Skin burnt, hair frizzled, and dehydrated almost beyond salvaging. I quietly dispatched the lone guard, with the captives watching in wide-eyed fascination at this green plant-man. They had just enough strength to sneak back to my hideout in the rocks where I had left the last captive. We decided to leave him trussed up, either for dead or for finding by his comrades. It took us nearly three days to get back to the Chama Underground. I grew a crop of cactus plants, and cutting them open created enough fresh water to rehydrate the captives just enough for the journey to safety. The people of Chama were ecstatic that I had freed their family and friends, and regarded me as a superhero. They asked what they could call me. I said, call me Chloro Phil.