Chapter 1
“Psycho Social”
A night around a campfire is typically thought of as a bunch of friends joking around, eating s’mores, and telling ghost stories. Today’s version is much more frightening.

I am one of a group seven people. Our unofficial leader is Clinton, he makes sound decisions and we haven’t lost anyone under his leadership. Yet. He wore his hair low and dressed modestly, he looked weathered, especially for only being 27 years old. His weapon of choice is an Assault rifle that fires in short, accurate bursts,

Destiny is our nurse, she can’t do any tricky surgery, but she can still patch you up if a bullet or two manages to find you. And she’ll give you a shot of the good stuff that’ll numb you to the bones. Shame she isn’t too bright, just a pretty blonde that had an apprenticeship with a doctor her whole life. She packs a pistol hidden in her unmentionables.

Jin is a marksman, not exactly great with a sniper, but fantastic with his bolt-action rifle. He’s a crazy Asian bastard we found huddled in a basemant. Too bad he sounds like he’s lost his marbles; nobody can understand a word he says.

Then there’s Riley. He’s a bad ass in about every sense of the word. His idea of fun was to be in a huge firefight having his own private Nirvana with a pair of SMG’s. [censored] insane, he is, but he has the largest kill count out of all of us put together.

Bill is an Englishman we picked up near The Pitt. He is a sneaky sort, flanking people with whatever weapon he had, usually with his magnum. He gives me the creeps, he sneaks all over and usually picks up something new every time he goes scouting.

The final member is Paige, and is comparable to a plasma weapon. Beautiful to look at, but deadly in its own right. Of course both Destiny and Paige constantly hang out with Riley, who earns their respect.

Not me though, I was next to nothing, expendable. My name is Brain, and I’m our explosives expert, or am supposed to be anyway. Tossing a few grenades and planting mines is about as far as I dabble in the volatile arts. I’ve got a pump-action shotgun and a crummy 10mm pistol. I never get any kills, but I make a hell of a distraction.

Anyway, we have a campfire about every night, and Riley talks to the girls, Clinton inspires Bill and Jin, and I just sit, staring into the fire. There’s little to motivate us, but our own survival, which makes teamwork crucial to surviving an attack by raiders, or the odd crazy wondering about.
But I aspire to more; I’m using this group to escort me to the West, where I’ve got a bit of family and opportunity awaiting me near New Vegas. It’s a bit of a gamble, but the payout is huge if I can get there.
But tonight is just another night of solitude, another restless sleep and boring downtime. But things are changing. As spring approaches I can feel something building up in the air, and fates are being decided. The future is now.

-___________________

Sorry this accidently got posted in the wrong part of the forum, please report it to be moved to Fallout Fan-Fic. Thanks

pretty good so far, i like the writing style.

Chapter 2
"Party Crashers"I woke up at dawn, earlier than anyone else in our group. I stood up and stretched my limbs, stiff from sleeping on the cold, hard dirt. The sun peeked up above a hill, splashing colors across the sky. I located my pack and I hurriedly strapped it on, withdrawing my weapons as I swung it across my back.
Shotgun in hand, I made my way to the top of the hill overlooking our camp, a slow incline of dirt. As I stood there, I heard a rustling noise on my left. Not missing a beat, I pumped a shell into the chamber and swerved left, finger on the trigger. A man in a ratty trench coat complete with a wide brimmed hat crawled out of a thorny bush.

"Damn Bill, you scared the [censored] outta me." I said, lowering my weapon.

He shrugged and wiped himself off. Blood covered his hands.

"Do I even want to know what you did?" I asked, more frightened than interested.

He motioned for me to wait a second while he retrieved something from his pack. After a couple seconds of rummaging, out comes a ghoul's head, drenched in blood.

I gagged at the sight and smell of the thing. "Feel free not to share this kinda stuff with me anymore,"
Bill tossed it down the hill and withdrew his machete, and with a large rag, he started to clean it while whistling softly.

A total hokerr, he is.

I returned to the camp, where everyone else started to wake up and move about. There were no "Good Mornings", but rather a grunt or groan that accompanied every morning. Clinton saw me approaching and he came towards me, packed and ready.

Now I don't think of Clinton as a friend, but more akin to a boss that annoys you and tells you the obvious.

"The camp's just started to get up." He grunted, stretching out his suspenders. "Did Bill get anything while out scoutin'?"

"Yeah, now you mention it, he has a present for you." I replied, a smile reaching my lips.

That kind of humor is all we got in the Wasteland nowadays, snappy comebacks and tasteless jokes is all that's left to us. Of course pranks were pulled, mostly by Riley. Mostly pranking me. A load of Brahmin organs in my bedroll? Not again! Cue laughter from everybody.

After everyone was awake and mobile, we headed westward. We didn't know exactly where we were, but we just dodged a huge Super Mutant army marching back east. Odd buggers they were, more green than the ones near the Capitol Wasteland.

By Clinton's best guess, we were somewhere in Kentucky, but Paige argued that we were in Indiana, seeing that we moved north outta the Muties' way. Either way it mattered very little to me, as long as I reached Nevada, I'm a happy camper.

You see a huge migration westward has been triggered by a lot of action around D.C. and nobody wants to stick around, especially since a mysterious ship appeared off the coast and started blowing the [censored] outta the buildings. A woman named Moira Brown (Famous Author of the Wasteland Survival Guide) wrote a bestselling book Westward Survival Guide and once word got around that moving westward is an option, everyone picked up stakes and headed for greener pastures. Or less brown ones anyway.

After a few hours of vigorous hiking, we had a break by a gargantuan boulder. That proved to be a fatal mistake.
We were lunching when Jin started shouting like mad.

"攻略來了!" he shouted furiously.

We looked at him as if he were a raving lunatic.

Then Jin's head exploded.

A fountain of blood and gore rained down upon us, soaking our clothes and weapons. Gunfire sounded, as well as guttural screaming.
I produced my shotgun and looked around, trying to spot our attacker. A grenade exploded and threw dirt into my eyes with stinging agony. I dropped my shotgun and rubbed my eyes real hard. As soon as my vision cleared, a half naked man was running full sprint at me.
I fumbled for my weapon on the ground, and I managed to retrieve it just before he tackled me. I tried to bring the business end up to bear but he had closed the gap by then, and he smacked it down into the dirt again.
Then he raised a bat and brought it down on my face with a loud crunch.
Darkness ensued.