The air was cold, biting at Francis' nose. He kept trudging through the heavy snow like he had been for days. His breath froze against his face warmer, the ice building and malting, getting his shirt wet with spit. That was bad. But he would have to deal with that later. It was going to snow, and Canadian winters were especially bad when a nuke had gone off 200 years ago. Francis looked down at his vintage M16, pulling the bolt back, hoping that it hadn't iced up again. It was frosted, but fine otherwise. He flipped his gloves back up and continued. He was running low on food too, and had to find some soon. Once he finally found his house, he pushed the door open, gun ready. Not finding anything made him feel a bit better. He set his head on the ground, weapon nearby, and drifted asleep.

The morning came quickly; Francis stood up and brushed off his clothes. His M16 was iced up, completely jammed. Francis sighed and pulled on the bolt until it gave and creaked open. He stepped outside, taking in the cold Vancouver air. His head swung around, scanning for threats and food. A molerat was waddling across the driveway. Francis raised his rifle and aimed. A trained eye brought the iron sights down on the rat's head. The trigger clicked and the hammer slid forward from its resting place, and hit the shell hard. The pressure plate caved, sparking the gunpowder and sending the 5.56 mm bullet out of the tempered steel barrel. The bullet cut through the air and pierced the rat's head, causing a collapse in the frontal cortex. The rat never felt a thing.

Francis pulled the limp body into his house and pulled out a combat knife, and skinned the animal. The bloody mess he had made covered his old leather boots. Francis cut the meat into chunks and stuck them in the snow. They would keep for a few days. After thinking for a second, Francis pulled out a piece and started a small cooking fire. The meat slid into the pan and sat there until it browned, and flipped. It was charred on the bottom, but it was still food. Francis had learned how to split bones for quick knives, shivs, picks, or anything that needed to poke. The meat was eaten fast, and Francis hoped that the smoke wouldn't attract anything. He was low on ammo too.


What do you guys think? Real [censored] here please.

It's good. Are you making more?

If I get a good reply I will

Its really good. I live in Whistler just North East of Vancuver like a 2 hour drive. I love it there I'm totally picturing it up in the suburbs and him looking down on the wreckage of the Park Royal area or maybe in Stanley Park? Please write more!

very good, make more

Alright guys, here's Chapter 2. Might write more tomorrow.

Francis removed the clip of his M16 and checked it out. Missing a few rounds, he topped it off and replaced it into the bottom of the gun. His empty stomach gurgled and protested to moving, as Francis continued through what was left of Stanly Park. The old buildings were fading, degenerating. The nukes had hit Canada too, but not much was left. Francis scanned the area for threats and food. He didn't see any, but he did see an interesting building. An old large neon sign read SA E A Y(Safeway, a grocery chain in Canada idk if its in the US). The huge building was graphitized and the walls had been scratched and was full of bullet holes. It looked like swiss cheese with cool graphics painted on it.

The place was full of shelves, and was probably a store. Francis pulled his M16 up into a commando style hold and walked cautiously through the store. A rat ran across an aisle, Francis almost shot it. He continued on his patrol of the store. It was empty, except for some large freezers in the back that seemed to still have power. Francis thought to himself that this might be a better place to settle, but that idea quickly vanished. Raiders ran into the store shooting wildly. Francis wanted to avoid a conflict and ran into the huge walk-in freezer. It was almost as cold as outside in the freezer. Francis sat down on the floor to find his tactical gun-light. Damn, he thought. I gotta keep this thing on my gun. The flashlight slid on and flicked on. The dark freezer held old food, rotten meats, and surprisingly, pistol ammo. A small box contained about 40 rounds. Francis emptied the box into his pouch. It jingled, he didn't like that but then he realized, how was he supposed to get out? He would have to take the risk of banging on the door and hoping a Raider would open it. Francis walked to the door slowly, when he reached it, he started beating on the door.

Francis was sweating and worrying a lot. If a raider came and opened the door, what then? He only had two clips left. He had to make them count. He got what he hoped for, and the door clicked. It creaked open and a gun muzzle stuck in. Francis scrambled out of the way and dodged what would have been a frozen death. The door opened further and a raider was greeted by a 5.56 round to the forehead. The raider dropped to his knees and then fell sideways. The grim scene reared its ugly head as Francis was greeted by bloodied walls, floors slippery with frozen red. The glistening blood was fresh, spoils of 5 minutes ago. Francis almost threw up from the sight, but was able to run out, ready to shoot.

The bitter cold made Francis slow down as he got closer to his headquarters. He kicked open his door and dropped his gear on the floor. He wiped his face cleaner and walked in. He cooked some Molerat meat and then laid his head down to rest. Tomorrow was going to be interesting.

Looks pretty good. Could be longer, but the same could be said of practically every story on this forum, including mine. Spelling and grammer look good. I don't make judgements on the story or characters until I see quite a bit of a fic.

One thing is that thoughts are normally in italics, not underlined.

A few things....

I doubt that there would have been any M-16's produced in the Fallout timeline....so a more realistic weapon for your lead character to be carrying would be an FN-C1(or even an FN-C1D(fully auto,RCN version). That or he may also instead have carried a No.4 MK I Lee-Enfield(as there was and is a massive surplus of Enfields across Canada).

Also, if you really are dead set on your character carrying an "M-16" style weapon...then he would have at least called his weapon a C-7(which by the way is magazine fed....you can fill a C-7 magazine with a clip...but the M-16 is not a "clip fed weapon".

Also the C-7 has been winterized meaning that it would not freeze up as the M-16 would.

Yeah I was thinking about that a while ago. Chapter 3 likely won't go up until Monday, sorry guys.

Wow thats great! I'm really likeing it. I know the SafeWay your talking about =P

You should involve Lions Gate Bridge as well or GM Place or BC Stadium?

Good story so far! Nicely descriptive.

Please keep writing. I'm also writing a story regarding certain Canadian characters a decade (or so) after the Fallout 3 storyline.


More robust for winter conditions, I would agree, but still sure as frozen sh!t freezes up in winter. Especially with blanks. Yay, stoppages!

I will agree to that, but at -40 degrees Celsius everything freezes.

Very good but are you writing a book or doing a mod

Ya it really does

Hey guys sorry for the huge wait and gigantic bump. Lemme know if theirs no more interest in this story, but untill then I'll keep posting. I have the week of school so I have time.

Just like he thought, today was not as simple as he had hoped. The winter air had taken on a bitter quality. Francis kept having flashbacks about the supermarket, with the blood on the walls and floor. He shook his head trying to get the image out of his head. He checked his rifle. His bolt had frozen shut again, preventing him from firing effectively. He could still shoot, but it was annoying, constantly having to remove the mag. Francis started walking east.

Somehow, the cold didn't bother him. The chills kept him going. It had been about 3 days and Francis still had no idea where he was going. He had been walking on ice for a while now. Francis took one last look at his M16. The barrel had iced up and the bolt wasn't going to thaw. Fed up with the rifle Francis removed the clip, saved it and ditched the gun. Francis hoped his pistol would work long enough for his work to be done.

He hadn't slept for days, he was seeing things. Hallucinating. The daylight got him to think clearer but it wasn't enough to really make him think. Francis lacked food, water, and sleep. Francis thought he saw something move out towards a scraggily bare tree. Francis disregarded it as another visage. The thing moved around a lot, and started moving towards Francis. It was?.an animal??.large?brown?.broad. It was a bear. It was hungry. And very, very real.