It has been awhile since I posted the first chapter of this story. I was finally able to finish the second, so here are the first and second chapters.



Chapter One: The Beginning of the End

Thursday October 22^nd, 2077 7:05am (Pomp Estates)

The alarm was blaring once more. Didn't I just turn that off? Troy thought as his hand smacked the snooze button once again. Being on Roosevelt Academy's Track and Field team never allowed any time to yourself. You were either running, going to class, or doing class work. A social life and sleeping were two commodities that were not part of the equation. Once again the alarm went off.

"Fine, I give," Troy told the alarm as it finally stopped yelling at him.

Troy stood up and stretched, feeling the muscles and tendons in his arms complain, while his legs felt like lead after the 5 miles he ran last night during practice. Fresh sunlight was pouring in from the window, hitting a stomach high bookcase, which was packed with books of every kind. The trophies he'd won from high school, the small collection of Vault-Tech Bobble-heads that his father had given him and a framed picture of a young brunette standing next to a tall oak tree adorned the top of the case.

Grabbing his clothes, Troy entered the adjoining bathroom and turned on the shower. Troy could feel the steaming water relaxing his leg muscles. Feeling refreshed after the 10 minute shower, he tossed on a red t-shirt and some khaki pants and walked down the spiral staircase to the kitchen.

"Hey, Mrs. Handov. Did you sleep well last night?" Troy asked the older women sitting across the table, sipping some coffee and squinting at the morning's newspaper.

"I did enjoy a great sleep. I was enjoying it so much, I failed to hear you come in late last night." She said without looking up.

"I'm glad to hear that I didn't wake you," Troy said. Not that he could, even if he tried. Mrs. Handov was a drinker and had the funds to continue drinking till the end of time.

"Care for some breakfast, sir?" The Mr. Handy unit asked. Its sensor modules turned to face him, the soft puffing of its jets the only noise, other than the crinkling of paper every so often.

"Please, Martin. That will be nice," Troy said.

Breakfast was eaten in relative silence. Troy finished and climbed the stairs to finish getting ready and pack the few things he would need for the weekend visit to his parents' house. After double checking everything, we walked out the front door. The sun was beaming at the glorious day. Birds could be heard off in the distance and neighbors were cutting their bright green hedges or mowing their green lawns. A couple of kids, too young to go to school, were outside learning how to operate their tricycles.

Troy propped open the passenger side door of his cherry red Corvega and stowed his suitcase away. Closing that door and opening the driver's door, Troy took a deep breath of fresh air and smiled. Today is going to be a great day, he thought as he turned on the radio to Galaxy News Radio. The drive would be short, but the sound of the radio always made Troy feel at home.

"Good morning Washington D.C.! I hope everyone is feeling good here in the nation's capital. You're listening to Galaxy News Radio; your station for news, sports, weather, talk and those good time oldies. Right now we're talking about the dreaded FEV virus. Is it real or is it some type of psychological warfare?"

Troy gaffed at the question. Man could build robots, man could put people into orbit and other celestial bodies, man could create the greatest weapon to kill other men, but it would be impossible for man to force something to evolve. Besides, America has had enough war to last it 200 years and then some. Everyone from average Joe to retired rocket scientists was calling in, all giving their opinions. Troy only half listened as he pulled into his parking spot near the Roosevelt Arts and Athletics Building.

Troy killed the motor and listened to the remaining callers, most of which sounded like those super religious types, who believed that tomorrow would be the end of the world, regardless of how many times they had been wrong the day before. Finally, sick of listening to the radio, Troy opened the door and stood, realizing that he had left his keys on his seat. Turning, he bent down to pick them up as a pair of arms reached around his waist.

"What the?" had Troy spun a second faster, his balled fist would have dented his assailant's skull, "Oh, you scared the daylights out of me!"

Thankfully his 'assailant' was a 5' 5" brunette whose smile could melt butter and cull an angry storm. She had curves, but was not the kind to flaunt them. She was dressed in silky, violet blouse and khaki pants. In Troy's eyes, Shelby Watson was the accumulation of heavenly and earthly beauty, regardless of what others might think.



"Jumpy today are we?" Shelby laughed, " I was just wanting to know what you were planning for next Thursday?"



"Next Thursday? Hm?Nothing really, just schoolwork." Troy smiled.



"Troy, you know what I mean?What are you planning for my birthday?"



"I guess you'll find out on?" Troy was interrupted by a high pitched whine.



"Oh no, hurry!" Shelby grabbed Troy's hand and turned around trying to pull Troy to one of several fallout shelters around the school.



"Baby, please?It's just another stupid drill. There have been two this week. What makes you think that this one is real? Besides that thing they call a fallout shelter wouldn't save a cockroach. I thought you and your parents had a spot in a vault anyways."

"We did, but still it's for our own good. Didn't your parents get into Vault 101?"

"Not yet. They're still on the waiting list. Apparently, a chiropractor and a certified nurse aren't really considered important enough for the human race after Armageddon to be given a spot. They've moved from the city to Springervale, where others are waiting as well. Come on, we're going to be late."

Thursday October 22^nd, 2077 5:49pm (Southbound US Route 270)

"Mom, I should be there soon? Mom, I understand?I got it?Mom, mom?Relax. I'll be there soon?Okay, love you too." Troy ended the call and tossed his phone into the passenger seat. He looked to the west as the sun was setting. Mixing with the Earth's atmosphere and creating a magnificent display of orange, red, and purple hues. His mind kept going back to the radio's conversation this morning. With the collapse of the UN and the Resource Wars in the '50s, China taking control of Alaska in '66, and all those Canadian Resistance Fighters up till about the middle of last year, people have been scared too long. Not to mention that everyone is freaking out about some nuclear holocaust at the same time. Now, the US has apparently created some super virus and plans to use it?how?

Troy was beat when he finally arrived at his parent's house around 9pm. Thinking about the future, one full of more chaos than what the last century held, takes its toll, even more so when taking long trips alone.

"My baby!"

"Mom," Troy embraced his mother and took a large whiff of her perfume, "Where's dad?"

"Sleeping, he had a long day."

"Same here. Let me get some shut eye and we can visit more in the morning. Sound good?"

"Sure, you're not hungry are you?"

"No, mom."

"Okay, I fixed up the guest room for you."

"Thanks mom, night."

"Night baby."

Troy tossed his suitcase in the corner of the room, which was bare except for a bed and an elaborate wooden dresser. His head hit the pillow and he was out like a light. He dreamt of Shelby and the future. Not the kind filled with chaos and druggies, but one with the smell of freshly cut grass and the sound of a baby drinking from a bottle, his and Shelby's baby.

Friday, October 23^rd, 2077 7:24am (Springervale)

The smell of coffee was what finally pulled Troy out of his dream. He opened his eyes and rolled over. He wiped the sleep from his eyes as he walked into the small kitchen where his mother was busy messing with breakfast.

"Hi mom"

"Glad to see you up so early, you can help me with breakfast." She said as she opened the fridge and started rummaging around mumbling something to herself.

"Is something wrong mom?" Troy asked, tilting his head.

"I forgot to bring the bacon up from the other fridge yesterday. Can you get sweetie?"

"Sure," Troy said, still half asleep. Troy opened the front door and squinted at the bright sun. Doing so reminded him of his dream and smiled. He reached the double doors to the fallout shelter and descended the stairs?

Friday October 23^rd, 2077 7:25am (Secluded Underground Location)

The president, vice president, other various cabinet members and their families were already in the secure bunker beneath the White House. The president and several military advisors watched a screen that displayed a 2-D image of the entire globe.

"Sound the alarm and then I want those [Censored] to taste the full might of our nuclear arsenal. Tell USS Red Clancy to fire at the Chinese and North Korean targets at will. I don't want any warheads going to waste," The speaker and the other men in the room turned to their wives and kids and smiled. Their worst fears were finally coming true and all they could do now was sit and wait for world to come to an end.

Friday October 23^rd, 2077 7:26am (Springervale)

Troy looked into the shelter and was amazed at the progress. His dad had thought of everything. Radiation suits, Geiger counters, food, water, batteries, a radio, and what looked like enough Radaway, Rad-X, and stimpacks to supply an army. There was a pistol and ammo.

"Way to go dad," Troy said looking at every nook and cranny of the gun, "Bacon?in the fridge."

Troy's fingers brushed the door handle when the world erupted with an explosion equivalent to a million volcanoes erupting at once. The Earth shook with enough force to topple buildings made for such events. The last thing Troy though before blacking out was what?

Chapter Two: Aftermath

Saturday October 24^th, 2077 Afternoon (Springvale)

Troy's eyes fluttered open. His mind raced trying to figure out what had happened. I was getting bacon. That's when the smell of rotten meat and spoiled milk hit him making his grumbling stomach nauseous. It took what little strength he had not to vomit on his shirt. He pushed himself up, noticing that his entire body was stiff and cold. I feel like a corpse, he thought as he began moving his fingers and toes; he continued flexing through the pain, until he had gained a semblance of movement. He went to check his watch, only to realize that it was shattered and no longer ticking. After awhile, he was able to pull himself up against a wall and feel around. Advantageously, his fingers happened to brush against a flashlight that was lying on the ground. I don't remember there being anything on the floor, he thought as his pupils flared along with the beam of light emanating from the flashlight. Once his eyes adjusted to the new found light source, Troy did vomit.

The fridge was lying on its side. Bacon, milk, several Tupperware containers, along with a half a ham were strewn about rotting and creating some powerful fumes. The racks and racks of medical supplies were intact, but most of the items that the shelves contained lay strewn on the floor. A thing of Rad Away was slowly leaking, the orange liquid was pooling around the remainder of some chunky brown substance which must have been refried beans. The radiation suits were still neatly packed in a corner, along with all the water his father had stowed away for the coming apocalypse.

Troy's mouth dropped. His brain had finally put the pieces together and it all became clear. There was no earthquake and he didn't think Washington D.C. had any volcanoes, and if they did they were as dead as a doornail. The leaders, in their comfy chairs and expensive suits finally ended the world. Someone finally decided to push the big red button and BOOM! Simple as taking a breath.

His mind then turned to his parents. Gone, his mind told him, they aren't down here. Mom was cooking and dad was still sleeping. Both of them vaporized in the blink of an eye. Did mom know? Did she look out the window and see the big mushroom cloud? What did she think in her last seconds? Dear God, how could this happen? People were supposed to be done with war, done with strife. How? What liquid was left in Troy's system streamed from his eyes. He sat quietly weeping in the corner of the shelter for a long time. Exhaustion soon carried Troy into dreamland which, instead of dreams of Shelby and their future together, was filled with giant red mushrooms that soared high over the tallest building and bent the strongest of those buildings as if they were blades of grass.

Sunday October 25^th, 2077 Morning (Springvale)

Troy rolled over and began retching once again. As with the last time, nothing came out. He had been without food or water for the past 48 hours, and his body was getting sick of being stuck next to the atrocious smell of the rotten food and dairy products. Troy sat there whimpering, like a dog that has been punished and doesn't understand why. Suddenly Troy's mind snapped into shape. He didn't like it, but he'd have to realize that what was done was done and get on with his now miserable existence. He wasn't going to just sit there and waste away, regardless of how good that sounded at the time. Standing, Troy wobbled the ten feet to the corner that held the radiation suits and Geiger counters.

After suiting up and making sure it was sealed tight, he grabbed a counter and flipped it on. Troy's jaw dropped. The screen was blank. How did the flashlight batteries survive, but not the Geiger counters? Troy thought as he flipped each on and then off. Anger flooded his brain, and he chucked the one he was holding at the concrete stairs leading to what was now being called "The Capital Wasteland" to those still struggling to survive the first few days after Armageddon. It landed with a hard smack, coming to a rest on the top stair. Tick, tick, tick, tick.

Tilting his enclosed head, a quizzical look spread across Troy's face as he shuffled towards the ticking machine. Removing it from the top stair silenced the machine. Troy looked at it once again?blank. He held it next to the door; tick, tick, tick, tick. Numbers flickered across the screen changing as he moved the counter across the length of the door. Unfortunately Troy had no idea how to read a Geiger counter. He was smart enough to know that the ticking was a bad thing.

He stood there. His head was spinning. Not only was the earth now a rotating orb of death and debris, but he was now faced with two different choices. He could stay here in this disgusting filth hole with the rotting food and probably die of some disease or he could go outside and die of eventual radiation poisoning. Even if he opted to leave, there was nothing to transport all the medicine, water and food that were stockpiled in here.

"I'll go take a look around," he told the rotting food.

The food offered no response. Troy sighed and grabbed the pistol off the shelf. Once again, he admired the craftsmanship on the gun. On closer inspection, he saw that the pistol was one of the finest around, a 10mm Glock. The Glock had a full clip and an extra one lay on the floor. Troy svcked in a breath, grabbed a Geiger counter and cracked open the door. Light burst through the gap and Troy's eyes slammed shut. The first part of his body to adjust to new alien world was his ears. The only sound around was the constant ticking of the Geiger counter.

His brain was still processing the devastation that his eyes were seeing. The world was no longer green and blue. The ground was parched and cracked; any vegetation was either vaporized or dead. Trees were just large toothpicks sticking up from the ground. The houses that remained were only partial skeletons of the structures they once were. Steeling his emotions, Troy wandered into what remained of his parent's house. Rubble. That's all that was in here. Rubble here, a burnt book over there?CRUNCH. Besides the constant ticking of the Counter, a crunching sound echoed in Troy's mind. As if immersed in jelly, his head finally found what he had stepped on. The fragments of skull bone lay under his foot.

The sounds of retching filled the area. Not only had Troy stumbled upon the remains of his mom, he had defiled it. He destroyed the only thing that was left of his previous life. Nothing remained and nothing was to come. All of a sudden it hit him, Shelby. Did she survive or did she suffer the same horrible fate his parents had. He rose and spun around, shifting rubble and throwing up clouds of dirt. His breath wheezed from his nostrils and mouth sounding something akin to a whistle.

He didn't know what he was looking for, but he had to find it. It just had to be here. He moved to what used to be the master bedroom, his father still sleeping, but missing skin, tissue, muscles, organs and a leg.

"Pops did say that bed had cost him an arm and a leg," Troy said, then stopped as laughter bubbled up from his gut, "Get it? An arm and a LEG!"

The noised that issued from Troy's mouth was not altogether human. As the maniacal laughter died into a sheepish giggle, he finally found what he was looking for in what remained of the closet. It was a teddy bear, missing one eye. He rushed and threw the bear into his shoulder as memories flashed through his mind. Somehow this small piece of fluff softened the blow of what had happened. All was going to be okay now that he had his bear. Troy's hold on his sanity was now a tad stronger than it was after finding his father. He now had a mission to embark on. He had to find Shelby, but first he would need something to carry his supplies, and Mister Beargaler. Snooping around the other houses was eerie to say the least.

Most of the shelters were locked and quiet as the rest of the world. There was however, one exception. Near the intersection, Troy came to a house whose fallout shelter was wide open. Not knowing what to expect, Troy pulled out the Glock. Careful to make as little noise as possible he inched towards the door. The first thing that came into view were the stairs. Gaining confidence with every step, Troy could now see the last stair and a shoe.

He didn't realize he was holding his breath as the shoe turned into a sock and then a calf. This body was not alive. Finally, reaching the limit, Troy's breath rushed out into the visor of his helmet. The calf gave way to floor and Troy surmised that the rest of the body could be found inside. Troy was now standing in the entrance to the shelter. Holding back another series of heaves he stared into the large gravesite.

The man, Troy surmised, had fallen down the stairs after hearing the sirens. In his rush to close the shelter, he must have tripped, dislocated something and fallen down the stairs. This would have hurt a lot, but may not have been deadly. The heat and energy created by the bombs, along with the steady stream of radiation, must have slowly roasted the man while he was still alive.

Gingerly stepping around the man, Troy examined the shelter. It was set up almost exactly like his parents', minus the fridge. People certainly were prepared for a nuclear holocaust. This man had tons of medicine and food. He even had a couple cases of Nuka-Cola.

"What's this?" Troy asked as he noticed a purplish hue emanating from one of the cases.

The case pronounced a 1 in a 106 chances to try Nuka-Cola Quantum, the newest taste in the Nuka Cola Line. Troy ripped open the case and sure enough one of the bottles was glowing purple and congratulated the owner of the bottle for finding bottle number 84 of 106. After returning the bottle into the case Troy continued his search of the shelter. Meds, food items, a radiation suit, Geiger counters, batteries, etc. Nothing jumped out at Troy seeing as how he had a complete stockpile of his own a few feet away. Just as he was about to leave, he noticed that the dead guy was strapped into something.

He held Mister Beargaler tightly as he used his foot as a spatula to flip the radiated body over. On the first couple attempts Troy only managed to push the body towards the wall. Finally, he managed to do the deed and it turned out the body was strapped to a backpack.

Just my luck, Troy thought, the first step in finding Shelby leads me to prying a backpack of some guy who now looks like some creature from a movie or video game. Holding back gags, Troy began the gruesome deed. Minutes later, after stopping to gag a couple times, Troy walked back towards his shelter one last time.

VERY good start mate, the pop culture references at the start really helped set the scene and Troy's reaction to his forced immersion into his new life was entirely believable and I found it very easy to empathize with him. I can't think of any real criticism as of yet apart form the odd tech slip ups that are no big deal i.e Video games: The style computers had been created into the most advanced game you could hope for would be pong, hardly a fitting metaphor for a rad burned corpse.

Also apart from those directly involved no-one knew about FEV certainly not civilians anyway, but these are the only minor nit picks I can think of in a still outstanding FF, keep writing and I'll keep reading.

this is pretty good
EDIT: (i hate to ask this but..) when is the next part coming?

Thanks for all your support. I'm glad people are interested. Here's the next chapter.
Chapter 3: Change of Plans

What was that? Something moved. I can see something, a figure. Someone else survived? No. It can't be. She's coming closer now, her brunette hair blowing in the wind. That smile, oh God, how I love that smile. She is still wearing her violet blouse and khaki pants. She must be miserable wearing the same thing for two weeks straight. I can smell her perfume. It smells so good. What's the noise? Is someone blowing a whistle? Oh no, not again. I thought the war had ended. The cloud towers over me and I see Shelby's body shudder and vaporize before my eyes. She's gone. Everything is gone. I can feel the heat turning my organs and bodily fluids into steam?

Tuesday October 27^th, 2077 Afternoon (Springvale Elementary)

Troy jolted straight up. He could feel the sweat cling to his face and clothing. His breath came in short desperate gasps. His hands nearly ripping Mr. Beargaler's stuffing right out. When he finally got a hold of himself and released his grip on his teddy bear, he realized that he was in some sort of classroom. A chalkboard hung on one wall and a couple filing cabinets along the opposite wall. He then realized that where there were supposed to be desks and chairs, there were mats. Most of the mats were occupied by young children. All of whom looked ill or injured.

Just then the door opened and a woman with fiery red hair and glasses entered. She looked like she was in her early 20s. When she saw that Troy was awake, her face lit up with a smile. She crept around the sleeping children and sat down next to him.

"I was getting worried that you were past the point of no return. You gave everyone quite a scare when you barged in the front door and collapsed," she said quietly.

Troy only managed to croak, "What?"

"Are you able to get up?" The lady asked with serious concern in her voice.

Troy nodded and stood. It felt all his muscles were made of string cheese. He winced as he took his first step. The woman held out her hand and he used it to steady himself. An image of a baby learning to walk flashed through is mind and he started to giggle. The woman's head cocked to one side. Troy waved her off and followed her out of the classroom into a hallway. The woman closed the door and turned to face Troy, who had started walking to one of the many rows of lockers.

"What are you doing?" She asked, following him.

"Where's my stuff?"

"Why?"

Troy turned to the woman, "I need to go."

"Where? Anybody who is still alive out there is probably roasted or starting to get really, really sick," the woman said.

"I have to find her. She's still alive, I know it."

"Who?"

"Shelby. I have to find Shelby because I was supposed to take her to the movies for her birthday."

Troy continued to inspect each locker. Some were empty, while the majority of them were full. The woman followed closely behind him with a look of curiosity and impatience.

"Your stuff is being held in the teacher's lounge. Who is this Shelby anyway, your sister?"

At this point Troy turned and stared at the woman, "Shelby is not my sister. She's a friend from school. I'm going to find her and make sure she is safe. That is, after I get my gear and you stop following me and asking stupid questions."

The woman's face was one of shock after the mini tirade that Troy had just went on, "I beg your pardon. I saved your live. You were on the verge of dehydration when you barged into this school. I'd appreciate it a little more if you showed at least of glimmer of gratitude."

"Well, thanks?" Troy trailed off when he realized he didn't know the woman's name.

"Emma," the woman responded, holding out her hand.

"Emma. Thanks Emma. Now where is my stuff?"

"I told you, it's in the teacher's lounge."

Troy sighed, "Okay, where is the teacher's lounge?"

"Follow me," Emma said as she brushed past him.

Troy followed Emma down the hall. Ahead of him a large pile of rubble blocked what used to be a staircase. Emma continued and turned anther corner which lead Troy to some restrooms. From here Troy could hear a bunch of children playing. One more turn and Emma stopped near a locked door that had TEACHER'S LOUGE: STAFF ONLY neatly printed above it. Troy turned and could see a bunch of kids were running around, sitting and reading or just clumped together in their little social groups. A bunch of advlts were there monitoring and looking very tired.

Finding the right key, Emma jammed it into the lock and twisted the doorknob. The smell of coffee flitted through the air. Emma waved Troy into the room. The lounge looked like most people pictured. Some cabinets stood against the far wall and continued to the left. On top there were a couple coffee makers, which looked like they had seen better days. Troy then noticed the oven sitting in the far right corner. Troy was about to speak, but Emma beat him to the punch, "You do realize that you are not the only one wanting to go looking for someone."

Troy turned to look at the teacher who saved his life, "What?"

"I said, you do realize that you are not the only one hoping to find someone, right?"

"Who are you hoping to find?"

"My fianc?."

"Your fianc??"

"Does that surprise you?"

"No, I just?," Troy looked down at Emma's hands where an elegant looking diamond sat on her left hand.

"Just what?"

"Didn't see the ring," Troy said turning red.

"It's nice isn't it?"

"Yea, so where was your fianc? when the bombs went off?"

"He was at work. He's a police officer at the Germantown Police Headquarters," Emma's voice cracked as she started to cry silently.

Troy moved closer and gingerly embraced her. She accepted his shoulder and was able to gain control of herself after a couple minutes. When she was done, she pulled out of the hug and began wiping away the remaining tears.

"Thank you?uh," It was Emma's turn to stare awkwardly at Troy, "It seems that I don't know your name either."

Troy let out a laugh, "its Troy. Troy Gaines. I was a student at Roosevelt Academy before everything went to hell in a hand basket."

"Well, Mr. Gaines here are your belongings," Emma reached for a backpack that Troy had almost tripped over without even knowing it.

"Thank you Emma. I'm sure your fianc? is out there looking for you as we speak."

"I hope he isn't."

Troy was taken aback, "why?"

"As I told you earlier, it's too dangerous right now. There is too much fallout in the air. Sure you can walk around in that suit, but you'll just end up dehydrated and don't know where the next secure building is around here. I'm staying put until the brunt of the fallout clears out and it's a little safer to go out."

"And when might that be?"

"Two weeks," Emma said, looking Troy in the eye.

Troy's energy was suddenly sapped. He was going to have to wait two weeks to start his trek. His male bravado kept urging him to just get going. He could tough it out, but he knew that doing something like that was just too stupid and risky. He wanted to see Shelby again, but he also wanted to be alive when he saw her.

"Fine, I'll stay."

The school, which was made of stone, remained mostly intact after the final waves of destructive power pushed through Washington D.C. The cafeteria, gym, and some classrooms didn't survive and the ceiling was cracked in some of the uppermost rooms, but all in all it was a good place to be when hiding from killer air. The school had planned for a nuclear attack to come at any minute so they had a large supply of food and medicine available.

Troy busied himself by helping out around the school. Clearing debris from some areas and making quick excursions upstairs, decked out in his radiation suit, to retrieve any salvageable books from the library.

Sunday November 8^th, 2077 Night (Springvale Elementary)

"I'm coming with you," Emma told Troy as he was making sure his gear was in order.

"You're what?" Troy looked up.

"I said, I'm coming with you. I need to make sure Andrew is still alive."

"Who said I'm going that way?" Troy asked, going back to his gear.

"I need you to take me to the police station. After that, I'll leave you alone."

"Do you even know how to get there?" Troy asked.

Emma reached into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a road map, "here."

Troy sighed, "alright, I'll take you to the police station, but I'm done after that."

"That's all I ask."

Monday November 9^th, 2077 Morning (NW of Springvale Elementary)

Troy had already been introduced to the horrors of the wasteland that Washington had become. Emma, however, was taking it very hard. The once pristine and mighty Potomac had an ugly brownish green tint to it. They were able to carefully cross the irradiated river thanks to the large chunks of debris that used to be I-489.

After walking for some time, they came to a large crater where one of the many bombs had ended the modern world. The only thing remaining was part of the building's wall. It stood out, like a memorial to those who perished inside, just going about their daily business. Right after that, they ran into another sign from the life they used to lead, a billboard. It declared: Wedn ay night is family night! All that remained was a bowling ball knocking down some pins.

"We should find some place to rest," Emma said, "It feels like we've been walking for hours."

Troy studied the map, "A little longer. We are near a train yard."

They continued their journey, which led them to a destroyed fence. Beyond the fence lay two large domes of concrete with a walkway in between. One set of tracks issued from each dome. The left track held two green passenger cars while the track to the right held four. Right in the center laid an overturned passenger car that was mostly buried in debris. Troy shifted his eyes, something wasn't right.

"Stay close," Troy ordered as he reached into his pack.

Emma gasped when Troy pulled out the Glock, "What? Have you ever seen a gun before?"

"I tend to look down on violence," was her reply.

Just then a door opened from the third passenger car on the right. A short bald man wearing the remains of business suit appeared. Another man, taller and sporting more hair, climbed out behind the short one. Both carried wooden baseball bats. They were about 20 feet away and moved slowly, as if waiting for Troy and Emma to suddenly explode.

"Hi. We were just looking for a place to rest for a little bit. We've been walking for awhile now," Troy said as innocently as possible.

The two men gazed at each other and nodded. They were now 10 feet away.

"It has been a long time since we last saw someone," the short man said, showing more gum than teeth.

Both men slowly closed the distance. Troy's grasp on the Glock tightened.

"Where you two headed?" The tall man asked.

"North."

"You guys should stop and rest here for a bit. You see, me and Harold could use a little company," The tall man replied.

"No, that's not necessary. We are fairly close to our destination," Troy said, backing up.

"I offered you a place to stay and you turn me down? How disrespectful," the tall man's eyes flared with anger, "Harold, would you help me show newest guests some manners?"

"Sure boss."

Troy's eyes widened as both men raised their bats and charged after him and Emma. The next thing he saw was Harold's left arm coming off at the elbow, then the deafening bang and the inhuman howl that issued from Harold's mouth. Before he could fire another shot, he felt the sting of wood connecting with flesh and bone. The feeling was nothing like he'd experience before. Lights flared before his eyes as his knees gave out and Troy slumped to the ground. Before slipping into the darkness that awaited him, he heard Emma scream out his name, along with a few other choice words directed at the two men.

this is awesome

:woot: cameo!!

I ooze awesomeness now B)
[hears from across the room that my name is one of the most common names in the English language..]
:unsure:





:P 'Kay, I'm a dork, and I'll admit it since my son is in bed anyway.

This is really good. I love the idea, and well written.

It's like Fallout ancient history :goodjob:

Thanks for the comments. It nice to know that people are enjoying the story. I've started working on Chapter 4 and I'll be posting it as soon as possible.

Sorry about the wait. Life has been a bit rough since the holidays, but here is chapter four. Some humor and some action. Have fun. Chapter 5 will be on its way shortly.

Chapter 4: Divine Intervention
Tuesday November 10th, 2077 Early Morning (NW of Meserati Train yard)
Troy awoke with a start. His eyes slowly adjusted to the predawn darkness. Before they did, he realized two things. The first is that he had been propped up against a burnt stump. The second was that his entire body felt as if he’d been pummeled with a baseball bat.
“Oh wait, it was,” He said to the darkness.
Nothing answered. Troy was rubbing his head when he realized one more thing. His skin was crawling. He looked down and nearly jumped out of his skin. Wherever those [Censored] dropped him must have been near or on top of an ant hole. Troy’s arms were crawling with tiny six legged dots. In fact, these dots were also on his chest and legs.
“I just know I’m going to regret this,” Troy said as he raised and crossed him arms.
In the next instant, Troy began feverishly scraping the ants off his arms, neck and face. Seconds later, he began frantically batting at the ants wandering around his chest, midsection and legs. Had anyone been around to observe him, their first thought would be that he was doing some kind of tribal dance. Having defeated the colony of ants, Troy stretched and tried to gain a sense of where he was.
The newly risen sun shone dimly over the steeple of a nearby church to the east. To the west were numerous mounds of large rocks and directly to the north, the remains of a highway showed what destruction mankind had brought upon itself. The air was eerily silent. There were no sounds of wild life. The carcasses of plants that dotted the landscape didn’t sway, because there was no wind. The everyday sounds of civilization, cars speeding down the highway, the radios, nothing. It was absolute silence. Then Troy heard it coming from the church. A voice carried out through the land. Troy couldn’t understand what it was saying, but it was a familiar sound nonetheless. Checking his surroundings once more, he started walking towards the church.
“…death has…” The voice grew more comprehensible as Troy grew closer.
“What are YOU going to do about it? God has allowed me, his faithful servant, to survive the downfall of the wicked! He has allowed me to live to pass on His good word!” The voice proclaimed.
The church now dominated Troy’s vision. The roof was obliterated. All four walls still stood, but each has large gaping holes that marred its appearance. It seemed a miracle that the steeple still stood at all. It was really as if God has decided that he would leave mankind with some sign after the apocalypse. Troy neared the northwest corner of the church and peered through the large gaping hole. What he saw puzzled him. The preacher stood there preaching relentlessly as is white tuffs of hair stood crazily on end.
His clothes, a Hawaiian button up shirt and khaki pants, hung from his frame. His skeletal arms waved frantically as he demanded total control over his congregation. Troy stepped through the debris and into the church. A look of puzzlement crossed his face as he took in his surroundings. Aside from the large piles of debris, the inside of the church was neat and clean. A book case held a few battered bibles and Troy noticed that the front doors were gone. The puzzling thing was that there was no one sitting in the three neatly arranged pews that were stationed in front of the preacher.
This guy has obviously lost it, Troy thought as he looked back and forth from the pews to the preacher.
“What do we have here? A lost sheep looking to rejoin the flock? Come, sit and listen to the word of God and let it flow through you!” Troy snapped back into the present and looked right into the preacher’s eyes.
This was a huge mistake. The preacher’s eyes were black orbs that seemed to pop out of his face. The skin on the preacher’s face seemed to have been pulled back and melted. Most of his nose was gone, what was left just hung there. The man’s lips were completely gone and his remaining teeth looked like battered gravestones. Troy’s mouth dried up and he turned and puked.
After coming to terms with the horrible sight of the preacher, Troy politely listened to the rest of the preacher’s sermon. Troy had never gone to church. He did not have anything against religion, he just found that it was a lot better to sleep in, than get up and have someone tell you that you are going to spend eternity burning in a huge sulfurous lake of fire. Once the preacher finished and dismissed the ghostly congregation, he came and sat next to Troy.
“Greetings lad, I am Pastor Machorn,” He stretched out a bony arm.
Troy’s swallowed the bile that started to rise from his stomach, “Hi. Troy. Are you okay?”
The man’s hand retreated and a puzzled look crossed his face, or at least what was left of it.
“Of course, I’m fine lad! I have never felt better! All those lost souls accepting the path that God has set for them.”
“What people? I was the only one here.”
Another look crossed his face, “What are you talking about? This place was packed. It’s been packed since the bombs fell.”
“I’m sorry, but I think you must be mistaken. There was no one here when I got here.”
“My lad, my eyes do not deceive me. There was a full house and they were hearing what the good Lord had to say.”
“Whatever. If I may, how are you feeling…bodywise?”
“Bodywise? I feel like I’ve always felt. Sure I’ve lost some weight these past few weeks, but I just haven’t been hungry.”
“Have you looked in a mirror lately?”
“No sir. I try not to look into mirrors for fear of the devil delivering temptation in the form of vanity.”
“You should probably find a doctor or something. You don’t look so good.”
“My young man, first you come in here and proclaim that my full house was indeed empty and now you are making statements on my physical appearance. I dare say this generation should be lucky they survived the blasts at all.”
“Look…father…I would really like you to follow me to a doctor. I’m sure there is one at the police headquarters in Germantown. “
Machorn ran a bony hand through the remains of his hair. The blackened orbs starred toward the sun, “alright lad. I will accompany you to the police station, but I must be back by noon because that is when my next sermon is.”
“Whatever,” Troy said as he stepped out of the four walls of the church through what used to be the front doors.
The burnt out shell of a few cars and the twisted wreckage of freeway no longer stuck terror into his heart. His brain had finally come to terms with the fact that the world was over. He started following the road northward in hopes of finding some markers along the way. When traveling with Emma, they had been going north, so he figured north was the way to go.
A few minutes later he came to an intersection. The rusted stop sign seemed to dominate the barren landscape. Troy was reminded of a holotape he had once watched. Some bimbo was running from a psychopath and she had come upon two signs, one sign had said Life, the other, Death. It seemed that Troy had come to the same conclusion. One road promised almost certain death, the other maybe some bleak salvation. The only problem is, unlike the movie, there was only a stop sign.
“If I recall correctly, the police station is down this road and up a hill,” Machorn said, turning right.
“Glad someone knows where they’re going,” Troy said, following Machorn.
“My boy, I’ve live here almost all my life. It’s just a shame that man had to bring himself down like this. Man was not meant to have such power.”
Troy nodded in silent agreement as he absentmindedly scratched the first few ant bites to appear on his skin. Soon, they come across a billboard proudly proclaiming that Vault-tec was “Building America’s Future, Today!” After walking some more they came to a hill that was crowned with more ruins of modern civilization.
“Well, up we go,” Machorn said as he started climbing the hill.
After a short climb, they found themselves in the middle of a maze of concrete, steel beams, and debris. They could hear pvssyring and sobbing on the other side. After slithering through the maze like snakes, Machorn and Troy popped out near a large, nearly intact building. They were also greeted by four gun barrels. Each held by members of the US National Guard. While their guns were trained on the two newcomers, all eyes were on Machorn.
“What are you looking at? Haven’t you gentlemen ever seen a pastor before?”
The guards all glanced at one another for an instant.
Tuesday November 10th, 2077 2:13pm (Germantown Police Headquarters)
The doctors clamored over Pastor Machorn. His radiation levels were off the charts, but with minimal damage to his internal organs. Somehow his body was able to take huge amounts of radiation and yet still exist. While he was being poked and prodded inside the police station, Troy headed out to the living area set up outside. There was a doctor with shoulder length brown hair sitting at a computer terminal typing furiously. Troy advanced cautiously.
“Um, excuse me?” Troy said, creeping ever closer.
“Yes,” the doctor did not slow down.
“I was wondering if you could help me find someone, Dr...?”
The doctor sighed and turned, “Dr. Nancy Kroydon and who might you be?”
The doctor’s eyes seemed to bore into Troy’s mind, “His…his name is Andrew. He’s a police officer stationed here. I was wondering if you could tell me where he is.”
The doctor squinted at him and seemed to be thinking how best to word her next statement. She decided to be blunt, "He's dead."
"Dead?"
"Dead, deceased, passed away," Dr. Kroydon said.
"What?" Troy was having trouble processing this bit of information.
"This police officer, Andrew Benson, is dead. He died a few days after the bombs went off. A riot broke out and they overran the clinic. That's why the National Guard is here. Washington figured that if simple police officers couldn't quell a few simpletons, they should send in the next best thing."
"Wait, Washington knew something was up?"
“Washington knew that something was going to happen. They sent us here right before the bombs fell and all hell broke loose. There was some trouble controlling all the injured after the bombs hit, so they drove in from Pennsylvania to calm everything down,” explained Dr. Kroydon, glaring over the top of her glasses.
“It seems calm enough,” Troy said.
“That’s because the really bad cases are in the building or dead. Those with everyday injuries were complaining that they were becoming sick because they were around those baldy poisoned by radiation.”
Troy cocked his head, “Radiation poisoning is contagious?”
“Not cold contagious, think of it as AIDS. Sitting next to someone with rad poisoning is not going to give you radiation poisoning. Swapping blood or saliva might,” the doctor explained, "Now if it's at all with you, I'd like to get back to my work."
"No problem. Thanks," Troy said, retreating back into the building.

Wednesday November 11th, 2077 8:53am (Germantown Police Headquarters)
Troy walked out of the building; his eyes adjusting to the dim sunlight that post-apocalyptia had to offer. He noticed the group of National Guardsmen and doctors standing in a tight circle. They were standing near a computer terminal, their voices a hushed whisper.
“What’s going on?” Troy asked, standing a short distance away.
All heads whipped around, startled that their private conversation was no longer private, Dr. Kroydon quickly motioned for Troy to join the group. He filled the gap made between two young looking doctors.
“As I was saying, we need more Prussian Blue. We have enough doses to last all of our yellow patients a few more days. I say we cut our losses there,” the doctor to his left said.
“What about the others?” The doctor asked.
“Too far gone. They are going to die regardless of how much they get. I say we try to ease the pain as much as possible, but there is nothing more we can do for them. We have to use what we have left to save those who have a chance at being saved.”
“Have we exhausted all other options?” the doctor on the other side of Troy asked.
“Actually, there is one more thing we could try,” said a doctor standing next to Dr. Kroydon.
“What is it Bill?”
“There was a cancer treatment center north of here somewhere. A few of us could go and hopefully retrieve anything of use; including some more Prussian Blue,” Bill said, his eyes jumping from one person to the next.
“I don’t know… “ said Dr. Kroydon.
“What have we got to lose? If there is medication that survived the blasts, we can try to save everyone; if there aren’t any salvageable meds, we come back empty handed and we try to save those who can be saved,” Bill explained.
“How many people do you need to take with you?” Dr. Kroydon asked.
Bill stroked his beard, “Hmm, I think one more should do it. Any volunteers?”
The doctors shuffled their feet and mumbled off excuses. They were well aware of the destruction, but couldn’t bring themselves to face it. Troy stepped forward. A couple of the guards snickered.
"I'll do it," Troy said.
"Okay, it's settled. Me, the guards and..."
"Troy."
"...Troy will find the cancer treatment center and bring back anything of use," Bill said, eyes once again jumping from person to person.
"Alright, but be quick about it," said Dr. Kroydon.
"We'll leave immediately."
Wednesday November 11th, 2077 10:13am (Just North of Germantown Police Headquarters)
"The treatment center should be just on the other side of this ridge," said Bill.
"I've never noticed these rock formations before," one of the guards stated.
Bill and Troy were standing in the middle of a square that the guards made. They were following the remains of a road that looked more like small puddles of concrete than actual pavement. The road rose over a hill that was sandwiched between two natural rock formations that formed something that looked like a castle wall. The group slowly began the ascent.
Troy's brain was not fast enough to process the sounds of the pistols firing. His brain was able to comprehend the fact that the two lead guardsmen were dead and someone was shooting at them. The two remaining guards yanked the doctor and Troy to opposite sides of the pass, each of them scanning the tops of the opposing side to acquire a target. While they were doing this, they were inching their way along the path and getting closer to the top of hill. No more shots rang out as their heads popped up from cover.
"Chickens," the guard near Bill mumbled under his breath.
"Are they gone?" Bill asked, his voice quivering with fear.
"Most likely, but we still should be -"
"Grenade!" The other guard yelled as he threw Troy to the ground.
Moments later a bone shattering explosion rocked the world. Automatic gunfire ripped through the air, deafening Troy, whose hands were jammed in his ears. When the world seemed to quiet down, Troy looked up. Bill and the other guardsman were lying face down in the dirt, bright spots of blood appeared where pieces of hot metal had ripped through their bodies. Troy's guardsman was hunched over the body of another man, who still held a pistol, but had no head. Troy quickly crawled over to him.
"What's going on?" His voice on the edge of panic.
"Bandits. They know there are no more rules and are using it to their advantage by picking off anyone stupid enough to be carrying something they want."
"You've got an extra weapon on you?" Troy asked.
"Yeah, here," The guard pulled out a Glock, almost identical to the one Troy's dad had, "Ever fire one of these things?"
"I believe so. I think I took the guy's arm off."
"That's nothing. Hit him in the head with one of these rounds and you'll be picking up bits of him everywhere for days," The guard laughed and poked his eyes over the rock.
Troy looked around the side of boulder. Nothing, but more wasteland. The seconds turned into hours as both men sat there looking for some dead grass to blow the wrong way. The supernatural silence made the sweat dropping their faces sound like the rushing of Niagara Falls. No one seemed to want to breathe. The sun beat down on them through the dust filled air.
"[Censored] this," the guard finally said, jumping out from behind the boulder, weapon poised for the killing blow, "Come out, come out wherever you are you [Censored]."
The man popped up, having already pulled the trigger. The two conical shapes passed within inches of each other as both men's faces watched as their death approached at sickening speeds. Troy was acutely aware of the gasping of both men. One who tried to protect him and one who had tried to kill him. He was once again alone in the middle of nowhere, with nothing to show for it. Although, he thought, I do have enough firepower to take out more than a few men. I wonder how Emma is holding up at the moment.

frieken sweet dude