Sammy Ferguson

Raised in an orphanage in London, Sammy really never had a sense of home. He was just one of many kids who people came to look at but never adopted. He dropped out of high school at the age of sixteen because he was failing anyway. He thought ‘why prolong it’?

He turned to petty crime as a means of survival – stealing, smuggling, whatever paid the bills. His job as a smuggler got him a ticket to America when he was nineteen and he took it. He carried drugs into the country in his bag and somehow managed to get through security although he other ‘mules’ didn’t make it. ‘Too bad for them’, he thought as he leaned back in his seat as the plane too off. Life’s kind of funny that way – some people have luck and some don’t.

Sammy had luck going spare. He always managed to find the perfect deal or the right people to deal with which earned him the nickname ‘Lucky’ on the streets. He made money hand over fist without ever holding down a steady job or obtaining an honest citizenship. He currently lives off the grind and steals what he needs and moves around when he needs to.

In December of 2012, he was in New York City, planning, of course, to attend the best New Years party in the world – Times Square in New York City. Unfortunately, his plans were derailed when a mammoth wave crashed upon the shores, taking out much of the coast line.

Thankfully, luck prevailed again. Sammy just happened to be in the penthouse suite of one of the high rise hotels (he’d stolen an identity to obtain that room) and luck would have it that the building remained mostly sound structurally. Sure, everyone below him pretty much died. But he was alright and that was good enough for him. He had enough food to last him a few days and when that ran out, the water had mostly receded back into the ocean enough that he was able to climb down the ruined building and out onto the street.

Bodies littered the city and so, he made a hasty exit. He assumed, perhaps foolishly, that the rest of the world would still be in tact and maybe he could make a name for himself (and some cash) for being one of the lone survivors of the horrible event. Problem was, there was no one left to listen to him. Not a soul around… everyone was dead. He traveled southward, looking for some sign of life but so far he’s only come across corpses and cities and town in complete ruin. What the hell happened? It was only then that Sammy wished he’d turned on a radio or television during or after that wave stuck.