A Free Radical Production
The sun has risen and fallen three times since you left the remains of your home. The trail you've been following has led to a wide path leading north, and you've just spotted the first signs of civilization. In the distance, a number of man-made structures break up the landscape. You can't quite tell if the area is inhabited.
There have been a number of damaged and weathered signs along the path, all bearing the same symbol:
It's not a symbol you are familiar with. You're not quite sure what it is, but there's something comforting about it, something inviting. Perhaps someone in town will know more. As you travel further, you come upon a small, broken wagon and an agitated man. He kicks the wagon in frustration and sighs, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a rag. He is oddly dressed, wearing a black suit and top hat. He turns and sees you approaching.
"Oh, Jesus!" he yells before diving behind his wagon. He pokes his head out, watching you nervously.