W A S T E L A N D

EXODUS

A Choose-Your-Own-Path Survival Adventure

TUCSON, ARIZONA ⟶ VICTORIA, BRITISH COLUMBIA

1,847 miles of toxic roads, cannibal territory, and broken dreams.

My Character:

My Name:

For use in classroom thought-experiment roleplay | A Critical Thinking Curriculum Tool

HOW TO PLAY

This is not a video game. This is a story that lives inside your mind.

WASTELAND EXODUS is a choose-your-own-path survival narrative. Every decision you make will have consequences — some immediately, some many sections later. The world doesn't care about fairness. It only cares about survival.

THE RULES

1. READ each section carefully before making any choice.

2. THINK before you flip. Each choice box asks you to reason through your decision.

3. WRITE your choices in the Decision Tracker at the back of this booklet.

4. DO NOT go back. Once you make a choice, you live with it.

5. IF YOUR CHARACTER DIES — that is part of the story. Write one paragraph explaining what killed them, then start over with a different character.

TRACKING RESOURCES

Your character has three survival meters. Track them honestly in the margins:

HEALTH

Starts at 10. If it hits zero, your character dies. Injuries, illness, and starvation reduce it. Rest, food, and medicine restore it.

SUPPLIES

Starts at 5. Tracks food, water, and usable gear. Spend supplies to survive events. At 0 you begin losing 1 Health per section.

TRUST

Starts at 3. How much others believe in you. High Trust opens doors. Low Trust gets you abandoned — or worse.

THE WORLD

Twelve years ago, three disasters hit within eighteen months of each other:

• The Cascade Collapse: a chain of chemical plant failures along the Gulf Coast released a toxic fog that spread inland.

• The Gray Plague: an engineered pathogen escaped a biolab outside Atlanta. Fifty million dead in four months.

• The Hot Rain: Three nuclear facilities failed simultaneously during a catastrophic earthquake. Fallout contaminated the Central Valley.

What remains of the United States is divided into Deadlands, Drift Zones, and rare Safe Corridors. Victoria, British Columbia, protected by the Olympic Mountains and prevailing Pacific winds, is rumored to be the last organized human settlement in western North America.

You start in Tucson. You have to get to Victoria. Nothing about this will be easy.

CHOOSE YOUR SURVIVOR

Before your journey begins, choose ONE of the four characters below. Read all four carefully. Each has unique strengths and weaknesses that will change how you experience the story.

CHARACTER: MARISOL REYES

"The only thing worse than watching someone die is watching them die because you didn't try."

Name:	Marisol Reyes
Role:	Field Medic
Age:	17
Background:	Daughter of a veterinarian and a nurse, Marisol grew up helping her parents run an underground clinic after the Collapse. She has seen more death than most adults.
Special Ability:	TRIAGE MIND — Once per major region, Marisol can stabilize any injured NPC or party member, restoring 2 Health without spending Supplies.
Key Skills:	First aid, chemistry, persuasion, plant identification
Weakness:	Cannot bring herself to abandon injured strangers. This has cost her before.
Starting Gear:	Medical kit (3 uses), canteen, dog-eared pharmacology textbook, her mother's silver ring.

MY NOTES ON THIS CHARACTER:

CHARACTER: DARIUS COLE

"The desert taught me everything. The apocalypse just made the test harder."

Name:	Darius Cole
Role:	Scout / Tracker
Age:	18
Background:	Grew up in the Tohono O'odham Nation's emergency camp system. Learned desert survival, navigation by stars, and how to read the land from elders who refused to flee.
Special Ability:	GHOST STEP — Darius can attempt to pass through Danger Zones without triggering encounters. Roll a coin: heads = success, tails = still encountered, but with warning.
Key Skills:	Tracking, stealth, long-distance running, sign language, water sourcing
Weakness:	Distrusts groups and technology. Will occasionally act alone, which can create problems.
Starting Gear:	Compound bow (12 arrows), hand-drawn maps, emergency jerky, signal mirror.

MY NOTES ON THIS CHARACTER:

CHARACTER: ZARA OKONKWO

"Given enough time and scrap metal, I can solve anything. We just never have enough time."

Name:	Zara Okonkwo
Role:	Engineer / Mechanic
Age:	17
Background:	Her father ran a salvage operation in South Tucson. Zara can fix almost anything with duct tape, wire, and stubbornness. She rebuilt a working radio at age fourteen.
Special Ability:	JURY RIG — Zara can repair one broken piece of equipment or vehicle per region, potentially opening travel options unavailable to other characters.
Key Skills:	Mechanical repair, electrical systems, vehicle operation, bartering
Weakness:	Overconfident. Sometimes her plans work brilliantly. Sometimes catastrophically.
Starting Gear:	Multi-tool, electrical wire (15 ft), salvaged solar charger, cracked tablet with technical manuals.

MY NOTES ON THIS CHARACTER:

CHARACTER: ELI VARGAS

"People don't shoot you if they think you can answer their questions."

Name:	Eli Vargas
Role:	Negotiator / Historian
Age:	16
Background:	Son of a librarian, Eli memorized maps, survival guides, and pre-Collapse history before he was twelve. He survived by being the person every group realized they needed.
Special Ability:	CULTURAL MEMORY — Eli knows the histories of communities you encounter. Once per region, he can prevent a hostile encounter by demonstrating knowledge of their group's past.
Key Skills:	History, negotiation, reading people, cartography, multiple languages
Weakness:	Physically the weakest of the four. Gets sick more easily. Cannot run far or fight well.
Starting Gear:	Waterproof journal (full of notes), two trade-grade antibiotics, compass, forged travel papers.

MY NOTES ON THIS CHARACTER:

THE ROAD AHEAD

Your journey moves through five major regions. Each has its own dangers, its own people, and its own critical decisions.

REGION	ROUTE	PRIMARY THREAT	SECTIONS
1	Tucson → Phoenix (I-10)	Chemical Drift Zones, Dust Gangs	1–12
2	Phoenix → Las Vegas (US-93)	The Scorch Desert, The Burners cult	13–26
3	Las Vegas → Reno (US-95)	Radiation Zones, Mutant Fauna	27–40
4	Reno → San Francisco (I-80)	The Cannibal Kingdoms, Coastal Fog Toxins	41–58
5	SF → Victoria, BC (US-101 / Coast)	The Final Crossing, Pacific Storms	59–70

THINK ABOUT IT

Before you begin: Study the map above. Which region do you think will be most dangerous for YOUR character? Write your prediction on the back cover.

SECTION 1

THE MORNING EVERYTHING CHANGED

The air tastes like rust and ammonia.

You wake before dawn in the basement of the Tucson Central Library, your sleeping bag still damp from last night's acid rain. Through the cracked ceiling, pale yellow light filters down — not sunlight. Sunlight hasn't been yellow since the Hot Rain. This is the color of a sky that wants to hurt you.

Today is the day.

You've been planning this for eight months. After Grandmother Petra died, after the water reclamation center finally shut down, after the last radio broadcast from the northern settlement confirmed it: Victoria is real. A city. With doctors and schools and food that doesn't give you tremors.

You have three hours before the midday heat makes travel impossible. Your pack is ready. Your route is memorized.

But when you step outside, you find something you did not plan for.

At the library steps, hunched over a burning trash can, are two people. An elderly man with a rag over his face and a girl about nine years old, clutching a stuffed coyote with button eyes. The man looks up.

"Going north?" he rasps. "We see your pack. We know the signs. We been watching."

The girl doesn't say anything. Her eyes are the eyes of someone who has already seen too much.

"There's a road crew on I-10," the man says. "The Dustmen. They're collecting travelers today. Taking tolls in — " he coughs, long and wet. "In things that people need."

He means people. He means the Dustmen take travelers as labor. Or worse.

You have three choices in the next sixty seconds.

THINK FIRST

Before choosing: What does your character value most — speed, safety, or compassion? How does that change your options?

[ A ] Invite them to travel with you. Two more people slow you down, but the girl deserves a chance. → Go to Section 2

[ B ] Give them your map of the alternate route around I-10. You don't need it — you memorized it. They can't follow you anyway. → Go to Section 3

[ C ] Tell them you're sorry and move. Every minute you spend here is a minute the Dustmen get closer. → Go to Section 4

[ D ] Ask them more about the Dustmen. Information is survival. But talking costs time. → Go to Section 5

SECTION 2

THREE IS A GROUP. GROUPS GET NOTICED.

The old man's name is Luther. The girl is Camila, his granddaughter. Luther says he has asthma — pre-Collapse asthma, the kind that was manageable with an inhaler before inhalers cost more than houses. Now he manages with slow breathing and stubbornness.

Camila says nothing. She holds the coyote.

You take the back alleys heading northwest, away from the I-10 corridor. The plan is to reach the Rillito River wash and follow it to the Marana Interchange, bypassing the Dustmen entirely. It adds six miles. Luther moves slowly.

By hour two, the sun is fully up and the heat is a physical weight on your shoulders. Luther stops and leans against a crumbling wall. His breathing is labored.

"I'm slowing you down," he says. He says it matter-of-factly, like it's a math problem. "Camila can keep up with you. She's fast."

He is telling you to leave him.

Camila finally speaks. Her voice is small and precise.

"He does this when it's hot," she says. "He needs water and fifteen minutes. He'll be okay."

You check your supplies. You have enough water — but sharing means you'll need to find more before Phoenix. And you can already see a dark smear on the horizon. Toxic weather system. Maybe two hours out.

HEALTH CHECK

No Health change yet. But you spent 1 SUPPLY sharing water with Luther. Update your tracker.

[ A ] Give Luther the water and wait the fifteen minutes. You can outrun the weather if you push. → Go to Section 6

[ B ] Give Luther the water but explain that you have to move now. He has to keep up or stay behind. → Go to Section 7

[ C ] Ask Camila if she knows anywhere nearby to shelter. She's lived here. She might know something you don't. → Go to Section 8

[ D ] Make the decision Luther won't: tell him you'll come back for him after you reach Marana. Leave the rest of your water. Take Camila. → Go to Section 9

SECTION 3

YOU GIVE WHAT YOU CAN

You pull the laminated map from your pack — the one with the safe route marked in red pen, the water sources circled in blue, the known Dustmen patrol areas crossed out in black.

Luther stares at it for a long moment. His eyes are wet when he looks up.

"This is — this is months of work. You've been watching them for months."

"It won't do me any good," you say. "I've got it memorized."

Camila, still silent, takes the map from her grandfather. She folds it carefully along its original creases and tucks it inside the stuffed coyote. Luther doesn't ask her why. He seems to understand that this is how she keeps things safe.

You leave them at the library steps and head northwest alone.

For an hour, everything is fine. The alternate route takes you through the Menlo Park neighborhood, past collapsed houses and one rusted shopping cart that somehow still has a single wheel that spins. You almost laugh.

Then you hear the engines.

Two motorcycles, cutting through the alleys. Dustmen — you can tell by the gray filter masks and the spray-painted D on their forearms. They haven't seen you yet. You're in the open, thirty yards from the nearest cover.

THINK FIRST

What does your character know or have that could help here? Think about your special skill before you choose.

[ A ] Drop flat behind the wreckage of a solar bus and wait. They may pass. → Go to Section 10

[ B ] Run for the nearest building. It's risky. You might catch their eye — but the interior could have multiple exits. → Go to Section 11

[ C ] Stand your ground and act like you belong. Dustmen take people who look scared. Confidence is camouflage. → Go to Section 12

[ D ] Double back toward Luther and Camila. Two Dustmen won't bother with what looks like a sick old man and a kid. → Go to Section 6

SECTION 4

EVERY CHOICE HAS A WEIGHT

You tell them you're sorry. You say it once, clearly, so they know you mean it.

Luther nods. He doesn't blame you. Camila stares.

You've moved forty yards when you hear her voice — that small, precise voice — calling after you.

"There's a tunnel," she says. "Under Speedway Boulevard. The Dustmen don't know about it. We found it before everything got bad."

You stop. The sun is fully up now.

She gives you the tunnel entrance location, described in the particular detailed way that children describe things they've memorized because their lives depended on it. Behind the collapsed Circle K. Move the shopping cart. Pull up the manhole. Forty feet to daylight on the other side.

The Dustmen are three streets north. You can hear the motorcycles.

The tunnel is real. You know it is. This girl has no reason to lie.

But using the tunnel means going back toward them.

MORAL WEIGHT

Note in your Decision Tracker: How did leaving them feel? Was it the right call? Would your character regret this? These feelings are data — they tell you who your character is.

[ A ] Use the tunnel. Go back, get them, use it together. You can still reach Marana. → Go to Section 10

[ B ] Use the tunnel alone. It's the smart play. You'll move faster without them. → Go to Section 11

[ C ] Thank her, but stick to your original plan. You don't know if the tunnel is safe. → Go to Section 12

SECTION 5

KNOWLEDGE IS CURRENCY

You ask about the Dustmen and Luther talks for eight minutes without stopping.

The Dustmen are not what most people think. They're not mindless. They're organized — led by a woman who calls herself Cinder, a former logistics coordinator who turned the collapse of civilization into a logistics problem and solved it for herself.

Cinder runs three routes: I-10 west, I-10 east, and downtown. Each route has a captain. She taxes travelers in supplies, but she also trades. People forget that part.

"She's looking for someone," Luther says. "Someone with medical skills. Her camp has plague sick. She's taking anyone who looks like they know medicine. She's not killing them — she's — " he searches for the word. "Recruiting."

This is important. This changes things.

Luther also knows about a water cache under a specific overpass on the 77 connector. He draws it on your arm in ballpoint. It'll wash off in rain, so you'd better find it before the next storm.

You spend twelve minutes talking. When you stand to leave, the old man holds out his hand.

"You're one of the careful ones," he says. "Good. Be careful all the way to the end."

Camila watches you go. This time she doesn't call out. She just watches, with those too-old eyes.

BONUS GAINED

You learn: (1) Cinder is collecting medical personnel. (2) Water cache location on the 77 connector — gain 1 SUPPLY. (3) Dustmen are organized, not just violent. This affects Sections 10, 11, and 12.

You head northwest alone, faster for the knowledge.

Continue to Section 10 to encounter the Dustmen checkpoint.

[ → ] Continue alone toward the I-10 bypass. → Go to Section 10

SECTION 6

THE CITY BREATHES POISON

You wait.

Whether you waited with Luther and Camila or dropped flat behind the solar bus wreckage, the next fifteen minutes are the same: the sound of motorcycle engines cruising the parallel street, getting louder, then fading. The Dustmen pass without finding you.

The toxic weather system hits an hour later.

It's not a full Drift Zone — just edge contamination. A yellow haze that burns your eyes and puts a metallic taste in the back of your throat. You cover your face with your filtration cloth and keep moving. You reach the Marana Interchange by early afternoon, then find shelter in a concrete maintenance building under the overpass.

Inside, someone has scratched a message into the wall: WATER NORTH 200 PACES RILLITO BANK ROCKS MARK X

You find the cache. Three full bottles, sealed tight. You fill your canteen and take one bottle.

You lose two hours to the weather. The sky clears by late afternoon and you push on.

By nightfall, you're at the edge of what used to be Tempe, looking at the beginning of what travelers call the Phoenix Spine — the only safe passage through the collapsed city core.

SUPPLIES

Gain 2 SUPPLIES from the water cache. Lose 0 HEALTH if you kept your filtration cloth on during the Drift. If you didn't, lose 1 HEALTH.

You are now at the border of Region 2.

[ → ] Enter the Phoenix Spine at dawn. Continue to Section 13. → Go to Section 13

SECTION 7

THEY KEEP UP — BARELY

Luther tries. You have to give him that. He moves on sheer will, the way old people sometimes do — not because the body cooperates but because something behind the eyes refuses to stop.

Camila holds his hand. She walks at his pace without complaint.

You reach Marana ahead of the toxic storm system, but barely. You shelter in a defunct auto parts store while lightning — genuine white lightning, not the purple toxin-charged kind — cracks the sky overhead. Real rain, for once. Clean enough that you set out every container you have.

During the wait, Camila finally talks.

She tells you she knows the names of seventeen safe houses between Tucson and Phoenix. She heard travelers talking, memorized the landmarks. She recites them in a flat voice, the way children recite multiplication tables.

You write as fast as you can.

"You were planning to come too," you realize out loud.

"I've been planning it for two years," she says. "Grandpa wouldn't go without someone to lead."

She looks at you. She chose you.

TRUST +1

Camila's information gives you access to safe houses through Region 2. Gain 1 TRUST. Gain 1 SUPPLY from the rain collection. Luther is slowing you, but the network of knowledge is worth it so far.

[ → ] Cross into the Phoenix corridor at dawn. Continue to Section 13. → Go to Section 13

SECTION 13

REGION 2: THE SCORCH

The Phoenix Metro died in the second year after the Cascade Collapse.

When the chemical plants along the Gila River failed, the winds carried the contamination east into the city basin. Six million people tried to leave in seventy-two hours. The highways became parking lots. The parking lots became graveyards. Most people don't call it Phoenix anymore. They call it the Bone Garden.

You enter from the south, moving through what was once Chandler Boulevard, now cracked into a tilting ridge of asphalt you have to climb on hands and knees. The buildings downtown have a reddish chemical corrosion on their lower floors — the Scorch Line. Anything below ten feet is lethally contaminated.

The Phoenix Spine is a route that stays above the Scorch Line: fire escapes, walkways, the tops of buses. There's even a stretch across what remains of the light rail track, forty feet above the ground.

You're halfway across the light rail bridge when you see the camp.

Below, in the ruins of a parking garage, there are fires. And people. A dozen at least, maybe more, living below the Scorch Line in some way that should be impossible. They wear hazmat suits — patched, repaired, cobbled together from different makes — but suits.

One of them looks up. They see you.

They wave. An actual wave. Not a threat.

A sign is held up, hand-lettered: THE ENGINEERS. TRADE? COME DOWN?

CRITICAL CHOICE

You're above the Scorch Line. Going down means risking contamination exposure. But these people have suits, resources, and knowledge. Who are they — and can you trust them?

[ A ] Wave back but keep moving. You can't risk the contamination. → Go to Section 14

[ B ] Signal that you'll come down. If they've survived here, they know something vital. → Go to Section 15

[ C ] Call down to them from the bridge. Ask what they're offering. No commitment yet. → Go to Section 16

[ D ] Watch them for five minutes before deciding. Observe before you act. → Go to Section 17

SECTION 14

THE COST OF CAUTION

You wave back and keep moving. The Engineers watch you go.

You cross the light rail bridge without incident and find the north descent — a series of emergency ladders welded to the side of a parking structure that takes you to the I-17 corridor, well above the contamination.

You move fast. By midafternoon, you're clear of the Bone Garden and looking north toward the open highway that becomes US-93, your route toward Nevada.

Then you hit the Roadblock.

Three old school buses have been dragged across all four lanes of US-93. Behind the buses, maybe twenty people in salvage-plate armor. And painted on the lead bus, in chemical-yellow paint:

THE BURNERS. TOLL AHEAD.

The Burners are a cult — you've heard of them. They believe that fire purifies contamination, that the apocalypse was a gift. They burn everything that might carry plague or toxins. Sometimes they burn travelers who won't pay the toll.

A Burner steps forward — young, maybe twenty, face paint like ash. She carries a flamethrower made from a propane tank and copper tubing.

"What do you have to trade for the road?" she asks.

THINK FIRST

What does your character uniquely bring to this negotiation? Your answer depends on who you chose to be.

[ A ] Offer supplies. Pay the toll and move on. → Go to Section 18

[ B ] Refuse to pay. Stand your ground. See if they actually enforce it. → Go to Section 19

[ C ] Tell them you carry the Gray Plague. Watch what happens. → Go to Section 20

[ D ] Ask to speak with their leader. Refuse to negotiate with anyone who isn't in charge. → Go to Section 21

SECTION 15

WHAT SURVIVES IN THE DARK

You go down.

The Engineers meet you at the bottom with a spare patched suit — not a great one, but better than nothing. Their leader is a woman named Oksana, late thirties, chemical burn scars along her left arm, voice like she's smoked gravel.

"How long do you need to get through the Bone Garden?" she asks.

"Six hours. Maybe seven," you say.

She nods. "We can loan you a suit. Full Scorch Line access. In exchange, we need a courier run."

The Engineers need a data drive delivered to a settlement called the Raven Post, forty miles north. They've been trying to get it through for three months. The data: chemical analysis of a water treatment method that could de-contaminate groundwater.

"If this works," Oksana says, "people could drink from the wells again. Not here — the damage here is too deep. But north. Nevada. Maybe Oregon."

The data drive is small. A thumb drive in a lead-lined case.

HIGH STAKES

This is a pivot point. Carrying the drive means extra risk but potentially saves thousands of lives. It also gives you allies. This is the kind of choice that defines who your character is. Write your reasoning in the Decision Tracker.

[ A ] Take the drive. Deliver it to Raven Post on your way north. → Go to Section 22

[ B ] Decline politely. You can't take on someone else's mission. You have your own. → Go to Section 23

[ C ] Ask Oksana to explain the full contents of the drive and what Raven Post is before you decide. → Go to Section 24

SECTION 27

REGION 3: WHAT VEGAS BECAME

Las Vegas didn't die the way other cities did.

After the power grid failed and the casinos went dark and the water stopped flowing from Lake Mead — which had been drying since before the Collapse — Las Vegas got weird. The people who stayed didn't mourn. They adapted.

The Strip is now called the Glow because of the bioluminescent algae that colonized the flood runoff channels. At night, the downtown core pulses soft blue-green. It would be beautiful if you didn't know the algae was mildly toxic on skin contact.

The city is run by a council called the Compact. They've established three rules that every traveler must follow: (1) No open fires. (2) No taking water from the algae channels. (3) Pay the gate tax.

The gate tax is negotiable. Almost everything in Vegas is negotiable.

You arrive at the southern gate — reinforced shipping containers welded into a wall — at dusk. A guard in a leather duster examines you through a slot.

"Business or passage?"

Business means you want to trade. Passage means you want through and out.

If you choose passage, you'll be escorted through without stopping. Safe but slow — escorts are never fast. If you choose business, you have an hour in the market, unsupervised.

But you have three hours before curfew locks the north gate.

TIME PRESSURE

You have approximately 3 hours. The escort takes 2.5 hours. The market will take at least 1 hour if you stop to trade. The north gate locks at curfew. Math matters here.

[ A ] Passage. Get through safe and fast. → Go to Section 28

[ B ] Business. The market might have critical supplies for the road ahead. → Go to Section 29

[ C ] Tell the guard you have a medical emergency. Different set of rules apply. → Go to Section 30

SECTION 41

REGION 4: THE CANNIBAL KINGDOMS

Nobody named them that. The name grew on its own, whispered on the road from traveler to traveler.

The truth — as best you can piece it together from what people say — is that there are three separate groups that practice cannibalism along the California coast route. They didn't start that way. All three began as legitimate survivor communities. But isolated communities under enough stress make terrible decisions, and these three made the same terrible decision.

What's left of the scientific community calls it 'acute resource psychosis combined with cultural drift.' Most people call it evil. You've never been sure those are different things.

The three groups are:

THE FAMILY — Occupies the San Jose corridor. Presents as a friendly trading post. Invites travelers in. You don't want to know the rest.

THE CLERGY — Operates between Salinas and Monterey. Religious framing. They call what they do 'communion.' They call travelers 'the offering.'

THE QUIET — The most dangerous. They don't announce themselves. They follow. They wait. They don't care where you sleep.

You are at the edge of this region with a choice that travelers have argued about for two years.

THE BIG QUESTION

There are three possible routes through Region 4. Each has a different risk profile based on your character's skills. Study them carefully. What you know — and who you are — changes what's possible.

[ A ] The Inland Route (I-5 / Highway 99): Longer, drier, avoids the coast groups but passes through Drift Zone patches and what travelers call the Dead Orchards. → Go to Section 42

[ B ] The Coastal Route (US-101): Faster, but directly through Family and Clergy territory. High risk, high information density — travelers who survive learn a lot. → Go to Section 43

[ C ] The Ridge Route: An unmarked path along the coastal mountains used by pre-Collapse hikers. Almost no travelers know it. Physically brutal. No encounters if you can navigate it. → Go to Section 44

[ D ] Wait at the edge settlement and try to find a guide who knows the region personally. → Go to Section 45

SECTION 59

REGION 5: THE LAST MILES

San Francisco exists.

You weren't sure it would. After everything you've seen — the Bone Garden, the Burners, the Glow of Vegas, the terrible mathematics of the Cannibal Kingdoms — part of you stopped believing that cities could still stand.

But San Francisco stands, after a fashion.

The Bay is strange now — the sea level rise combined with the tide surge from the coastal earthquake chain has pushed water deep into SoMa and the Mission. People call it Little Venice, and they mean it as a compliment. There are boats. There are markets on piers. There is noise and light and the smell of something cooking that might actually be food.

The Golden Gate is half standing. The southern tower fell six years ago. The northern tower remains, and from it, every day at noon and sunset, someone plays a trumpet. Nobody knows who. Nobody goes up to check. They just listen.

You have two days before the scheduled ferry convoy. Once a month, a convoy of fishing vessels and salvage ships makes the run from San Francisco Bay north along the coast, past the Sonoma coast and Mendocino, up through the redwood corridor, through the Columbia River mouth — all the way to Victoria Harbor.

It's the safest way. But there's a waiting list.

At the Harbor Authority, a woman named Prescott reviews your papers, your supplies, your condition.

"Priority goes to medical personnel, engineers, and children," she says. "After that, it's what you contribute."

She looks at you over her glasses. 'What do you contribute?'

WHO ARE YOU NOW?

Think about everything your character has done, learned, and become on this journey. What have you contributed? What can you offer Victoria that it needs? This is your final argument for yourself. Write it out in the margin before you choose.

[ A ] Make your case based on skills and experience. What your character does best. → Go to Section 60

[ B ] Offer to work passage — contribute to the convoy's safety and operations. → Go to Section 61

[ C ] Show them the data drive from the Engineers, or the letters of introduction, or whatever connections you've built. Let the journey speak. → Go to Section 62

[ D ] Ask Prescott directly: what does Victoria need most right now? Then answer that question. → Go to Section 63

SECTION 70

VICTORIA

The harbor comes at dawn.

You've been on the water for four days. You've been sick twice — the Pacific swells are nothing like the dry-land nausea you're used to. You've eaten rationed sea biscuits and salt fish and been grateful for both. You've talked to the other passengers: a dentist from Fresno, twin boys who don't speak but communicate in hand gestures, an old woman who insists she's one hundred and three and cannot be proven wrong.

And then the coast appears.

It is green.

Not the yellow-green of toxic bloom, not the blue-green of the algae in Vegas. Green the way the word means when you say it to a child: trees. Real trees, thick and dark with life, covering hills that roll down toward blue water. The Olympic Mountains behind them, white-capped, solid as a promise.

Victoria Harbor is a working harbor. There are cranes. There are docks with actual workers on them. There is a building with a hand-painted sign: INTAKE & REGISTRATION — WELCOME.

You stand at the rail of the boat as it pulls in, and you feel something unfamiliar pressing behind your ribs.

It takes you a moment to identify it.

Safety.

You made it.

YOU SURVIVED. WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?

Victoria is not paradise. The story doesn't end here. There are rations and assignments and hard community work ahead. There is grief for the things and people you couldn't bring with you. There is the long work of rebuilding.

But you are here. That is not nothing.

That is, in fact, everything.

FINAL REFLECTION — Answer in your journal or on the back cover:

1. What was the hardest choice you made on this journey? Why?

2. Which moment would you change if you could?

3. What did this character teach you about yourself?

4. What does it mean to survive — and is surviving always the right goal?

DECISION TRACKER

Record every major choice you make on your journey. Write your reasoning — not just what you chose, but WHY. Critical thinking means understanding your own logic.

Section #	Choice Made	Why? (Your Reasoning)

RESOURCE TRACKER

HEALTH (Start: 10)	SUPPLIES (Start: 5)	TRUST (Start: 3)

TEACHER & STUDENT DISCUSSION GUIDE

CRITICAL THINKING CONNECTIONS

WASTELAND EXODUS is designed to teach specific critical thinking and problem-solving skills through narrative immersion. Below are the key skill areas addressed and discussion questions for each.

1. ETHICAL DECISION MAKING

Many choices in this game have no clear right answer. They require weighing competing moral values.

Discuss: Was there ever a moment where the 'right' choice and the 'smart' choice were different? What did you do?

Discuss: The old man Luther offers you information but will slow you down. What ethical framework did you use to decide?

2. RISK ASSESSMENT

Every route, every encounter, every choice involves calculating risk against potential reward.

Discuss: How did you assess risk differently when YOUR character had high Health vs. low Health?

Discuss: When did you take a risk that didn't pay off? What information would have changed your decision?

3. RESOURCE MANAGEMENT

Supplies, Health, and Trust are finite. How you spend them reflects your priorities.

Discuss: Did you ever run out of a resource? What cascading effects did that have?

Discuss: Which resource was hardest to rebuild? What does that tell you about the world of the story?

4. CHARACTER AND IDENTITY

Your character's skills and background shaped what options were available to you.

Discuss: Did you ever make a choice that felt 'wrong' for your character? Why did you make it?

Discuss: Compare your choices with someone who played a different character. Where did your paths diverge most?

5. SYSTEMS THINKING

The world of WASTELAND EXODUS is a system — the cannibal groups, the Dustmen, the Compact, the Engineers are all connected.

Discuss: How did your choice in Section 15 (the Engineers' data drive) affect or potentially affect the larger world?

Discuss: What systems in the story most resemble real-world systems? What can we learn from how they work?

WRITING EXTENSION PROMPTS

1. Write a journal entry from your character the night before they arrive in Victoria.

2. Rewrite a scene where you made a choice that led to a bad outcome — but this time, make a different choice. How does the story change?

3. Create a new character — someone who would have a completely different experience of this journey. Who are they? What's their background? What do they struggle with most?

4. The world of WASTELAND EXODUS was caused by human decisions. What decisions? Write a one-page history of how the Collapse happened.

5. You arrive in Victoria. Write the intake interview — the official questions they ask you, and your character's answers.

WASTELAND EXODUS — A Post-Apocalyptic Critical Thinking Narrative

Designed for classroom use | Grades 8-12 | Single-player, thought-experiment format