Fallout, with its history, places, factions, technology, and characters are owned by Bethesda. This is a fictional work created by me. All the characters within this story are my creations. This work can not be used or copied without my explicit permission. Please leave a review with suggestions or ways to improve my writing style, thank you and enjoy.

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Prologue

It has been a little over 200 years since the bombs dropped in the Great War of 2077. The area that used to be called the Four States Commonwealth a long time past had become a barren wasteland, the land scorched by the blinding sun. Water has become the rarest commodity one could have. There was a state known as Arizona that had been part of this commonwealth. It was not lucky enough to be spared by the barrage of bombs that destroyed the rest of the county. The main destruction had been around the capital city of Phoenix, which had the highest population density at the time. The city and its surrounding parts have become soulless grey ruins. The rest of the state has become a dangerous place to try and survive. The inhabitants of this desolate place have come to call it the Arizona Wastes.

The Arizona Wastes has become divided into several parts. There is no form of government to speak of to protect the people of the land. The only law is dependant on who you keep company with. The north is mainly controlled by warring bands of the remnants of Indian tribes fighting for water sources, fertile land, and religious places. They are highly territorial, violent, and have been known to practice cannibalism. The eastern part is run by a network of raiders who came across several abandoned military bases and are heavily equipped with weapons, gear, and even a few vehicles. They are now fortified within these bases leaching off any settlements, caravans, and wanderers in the area. They have become known as the Crimson Surge. It has been rumored that a woman is in charge of this network, claiming the title of General.

The southern part is pretty much void of people due to the fact that a group of religious zealots wander the area capturing anyone they find and forcing them to convert to their ways or be sacrificed to whatever deities they worship. Little is known about their beliefs and ideals, but most that enter this area are never seen again. The only relative safe part of the Arizona Wastes is that of the western part. This is where many communities have sprouted up, small villages, towns, and some underground camps. There are also communities that thrive on the fringes of the ruins of Phoenix who scavenge what they need. The ones that are close together usually have a treaty with one another to come to ones aide if one gets attacked. This acts as a deterrent to raiders and thieves and is what keeps the western part of the wastes semi safe.

The Arizona Wastes are full of deadly creatures, killers, and many other dangerous things, but there are glimmers of hope throughout the land. Everywhere you go you feel desperation, but you will hear of groups trying to make life better for others, or bringing justice to the evils of man, or stories of a courageous person putting everything on the line, including their own life, just to do the right thing. This is a tale of man named Zack, making his way towards the city of New Vegas. He is heading there to confront his past, as well as clear his family name that had been blackened so long ago. He knows his journey will be long and difficult, but he has a strong will and the patience to persevere till the end.

You have my attention. Can you keep it?

I hope I can keep your interest. I have been a member here for some time, but have not actively posted as I should have. I have always wanted to write a fanfic for Fallout, but never seemed to to have the time. Recently though I have been able to get a couple of hours of free time a day, and have been working on this project. For those of you who only want to see action, violence, and crazy things in every post, this story might not be for you. I intend to make this quite a long fanfic, going into lots of detail and building a great atmosphere. Thank you for reading, and I hope all enjoy.

Chapter 1.1 – The Chase

August 17th, 2279

The sky was cloudless and the sun was burning bright. A light breeze was blowing from the east. It was just turning the middle of the afternoon when the heat was becoming the most unbearable. The man heard shouts of anger behind him, but he could not discern what was being spoken. He had been running for the last ten minutes as fast as his legs could muster. Sweat was trickling down his face and neck; he knew he could not keep this pace forever. He kept scanning the ground as he ran so he would not stumble on any obstacles. It would cost him his life if he did. He could feel the shoulder bag he was wearing as it banged his side with every stride he took. He quickly glanced back and saw he was being pursued by three people, two men and one woman, all of which were branding weapons. The woman was the fastest of the three and had quickly gained distance to the man in the lead, but he kept running all the same. The man saw the entrance to the canyon less than a quarter mile from where he was. He knew he could lose them if he was able to make it into that maze of dust and rock. With the prospect of freedom so close, more adrenaline kicked in and allowed him his second wind.

The man was nearing the entrance to the canyon, he was so close, and the fear was starting to dissipate from his mind. He knew he could make it even though his lungs were burning from running so long. All of a sudden a sharp pain filled him from his left leg, which shot up through his body. The woman had been faster than him and had been able to hit his leg with the two foot pipe that she was toting. The man went tumbling down getting cuts and scraqes on his arms, legs and face. He finally came to rest laying face up. The woman was already standing over him when he realized what had occurred. He reached down quickly for his knife he wore on his belt. The woman instantly brought the pipe down in an arc on his right arm, breaking it in the process. The man cried out in agony, and held his now broken arm with his remaining good one. He looked up at the woman and glared at her with hatred. She just stared at him without emotion. She shook her head once as if saying, don’t try anything else. The man recognized this woman, but couldn’t place her name. It was Sarah, or maybe Gina. Her hair was medium length, blonde, and blowing slightly in the breeze that was still present. She had a strange beauty to her; even with the long scar that ran from the bottom of her left ear down do her right collarbone. Whatever attack that had caused this prevented her from being able to speak, permanently. He knew she was one of the higher ups of the raider’s leader, Max. She was one of his loyal lieutenants.

A few moments later, which seemed like an eternity to the man laying on the ground cradling his broken arm, Max and the other man that had been pursuing him had come into his view. Max was built big with dark skin and had a shaved head. Burns and scars covered his body as if he had never seen a day without some sort of violence involved. Max came closer to him, kicking him once in the side of his stomach and then in the side of his face. The man on the ground made a grunt with each kick. He then turned his head to one side coughed once, and spit out blood along with two teeth. Max reached down and pulled the shoulder bag off the man on the ground. He opened it and peered inside. He smiled, took a couple of steps and tossed the bag to the other male raider, who then crossed it over his own shoulder, and stood silently. Max came back into the view of the man on the dirt.

“Your brother Jake was a good man. He was strong, fierce, and always obeyed me. You could have been as great as him, but, you decided to try to [censored] us over and steal from us. Your job was simple and yet you messed it up. Just think of what your brother would say.”

“You killed my brother you ugly [censored]!” The injured man on the ground said as he spat more blood.

"No, no, no.” Max responded smiling. “I sent him on a task, and he got himself shot and captured. Then he was hung by those townsfolk. I had nothing to do with that.”

“You lie! You knew that everyone was looking to him as a new leader, and you sent him to do something that you knew couldn’t be done. You were just too jealous of Jake and too much of a coward to challenge him yourself. You knew he wouldn’t make it back!”

Max gave a small shrug, waved his hand non-caringly and proceeded to change the subject. “And just what were you planning on doing with all this jet that you decided to steal? Sell it in our territory? Or just shoot it up yourself? I didn’t take you for a junkie.”

“I was going to head to Essett, sell it, and then use the money to place a bounty for your head on a pike! Least then Jake could lay in peace.” The man looked up grinning, and then coughed a couple of times. A fly landed on his face and was crawling around, but the man was in to much pain to bother swatting at it.

Max shook his head sadly a few times. He reached to the waist of his pants and withdrew a .32 pistol and held it at his side tapping it against his leg. “You could have made it big in our group man, but this has to be done. Give my regards to Jake.” Max angled the pistol towards the wounded man’s head, and pulled the trigger.

Chapter 1.2 – Beginnings

August 17th, 2279

Zack awoke. His eyes shot open from the sound of a gunshot. He was able to lie still after just waking up, a skill that took much time to master from his days in the militia. If he had sat up quickly, he might have been spotted by whomever that shot had come from. He was up on a hill behind a rock outcropping that laid to his left. He had chosen this spot to rest because it offered shade from the sun as well as a good vantage point. The shot had sounded close, less than a half mile away. Zack wasn’t too sure of which direction it came from however. It did sound like a small caliber weapon. He was very proficient in small arms. Zack remembered there was a small canyon to the south west of him, which he dared not venture for fear of Yao Guai or Rad Scorpions. He turned his head to his right, the east, and glanced as much as his field of vision allowed. If the shot came from anywhere here he would be exposed if he sat up. He didn’t see anyone so he very carefully got into a crouched position behind the rocks and reached back for his pack which he used as a head rest.

Zack pulled down the tinted biker goggles he usually always wore down to his neck. He then took out a pair of black binoculars from the left side pocket of his pack. They were very old and worn. They had been with him for a long time. Only the right side of them actually worked, the left objective lens had been smashed a few years ago on a scouting mission he had been part of. He looked over the rocks very slowly and scanned the area. It was then when he saw them by the canyon he marked mentally in his mind earlier. They looked to be a little more than a third of a mile away from him. He raised his binoculars to his eyes and focused in on where they were at. He could see three standing people, two men and one woman. You can spot a raider fairly easy; they usually wear different variants of the same type of makeshift armor. Mainly composed of leather, metal scraps, chains, rubber and anything else they might deflect an attack. The raiders seemed to be standing over a body lying on the ground.

“He must have been some merchant or traveler, unlucky enough to be picked off by raiders.” Zack thought to himself.

Zack saw the female raider crouch down checking the body. It looked like she was searching for any valuables. She put something in one of her pockets. The dark skinned one said something, the female stood back up and they all turned south and started walking.

“Good, they’re leaving. Back to their camp I suppose.”

Zack crouched back down and put his binoculars back in the left pocket of his pack. He wasn’t afraid of confrontation with the three raiders. He would just rather save the ammo, and possibly injury to himself. A breeze picked up and cooled the back of his neck which had accumulated some sweat. He then sat down on his bedroll crossed legged. His bedroll was made of wool. Not the most comfortable material to have, but it cushioned the ground quite well and always stayed dried. It was however, about a foot shorter than him, he himself a little over six feet tall. He didn’t mind however when the lower part of his legs were in the dirt while he slept. When not in use, his bedroll would hang from his pack underneath by straps.

His pack was a good sized back pack which held Zack’s possessions quite well. It was made of some synthetic material that had one point been a rich navy blue with black trim when it was new. It was now however, a dusty bluish grey. The main compartment was quite large and it held the bulk of his items. He had a one and a half gallon water bladder that rested on the bottom which at the moment was full. On top of that he had a small wooden case which held two boxes of .44 caliber ammo, as well as a gun cleaning kit. Next to that he had some spare clothing. There was leather pouch here as well that held some hygiene items such as his razor, a crude tooth brush, and some paper scraps for when bathroom time rolls around. There is also some decent soap, which he mainly uses for deodorant and washing when water was abundant. There is a good sized tin container on top of this which Zack uses for his food storage. At the moment he some squirrel bits, Mutfruit, and quite a bit of Brahmin jerky. There is also some metal dinnerware here, one plate, one mug, and some silverware.

The next compartment is about half the size of the first and Zack uses it to hold mainly medical supplies. He has three stimpaks, a bottle of buff out, a box of mentants, and some bandages. There are a few surgical items in case there are any injuries to himself that he might be able to work on, a scalpel, couple of clamps, and some needles and thread for stitches. He has an old AZ Journal of Internal Medicine for reference in this compartment. He has had to use it a few times in his past, mainly to help others. He wouldn’t call himself an adept doctor though, just a decent field medic. There is also about twenty feet of strong rope that is stored here as well in case he needs to get down into an area with no other way out except climbing. The best part of his pack resides here in this compartment. There is a false bottom a hidden zipper which has a small space for hiding certain things. He stores here the caps he has saved throughout his life, as well as a map that he was able to get from a caravan guard that shows much of the areas of the Arizona Wastes that the guard traveled on. It shows dangers, settlements, and places with clean water. This is the most important item Zack is carrying, without it he would be lost.

The smaller side pockets held the last of his gear. In the left side pocket he has his binoculars, as well as multi-tool incase he needs to open any kind of container or get wiring.. It also helps with lock picking with the screwdriver attachments on it. Zack also keeps a lighter here for sterilizing his medical tools, and starting cooking fires. In the right side pocket he has a small pry bar, for use in breaking windows, opening doors, and comes in quite handy as a makeshift weapon. There are a couple of bottles of wonder glue, for a short term fix for broken things.

Zack reached over for his canteen. It was a rounded one made of metal, but had Brahmin leather covering the outside of it which kept the contents from getting extremely hot He usually wore this over his right shoulder, and it hung at his left side. He screwed the cap off and took a few sips. The water was quite warm, but his mouth was so dry that it didn’t bother him. The canteen was still about half full. From nowhere, thoughts of his mother came into his mind.

“I miss her so much.”

It had only been two days since Zack left the town of Polvo, which he called home for the last fourteen years. The terrain had been rough and he had only made about sixteen miles since then. A week and a half had passed since he had buried his mother. She fell quite ill during the beginning of that summer. She had a high fever and had much problem keeping food down. It was only a matter of time before the inevitable would happened. Zack closed his eyes and thought back to the funeral.

The sky was cloudy and blocked out the sun, which helped with the temperature greatly. The funeral was early in the morning; it was his mother’s favorite time of the day. Most people enjoyed watching the sunset, but she was an early riser, and loved to watch the sunrise. The cemetery was just on the outside of town. It was surrounded by a short wooden white fence that was starting to collapse in some areas. The cemetery had accumulated quite a bit of headstones and crosses over the years. All the people of Polvo came to pay their respects. His mother had been a very popular woman, always cheery to everyone, and was always the first to volunteer to help someone. Zack was silent for the funeral, he kept his eyes on the horizon, he couldn’t bear look at his lifeless mother’s coffin. His best friend Alex was standing by him throughout the funeral. Alex stood silently as well; he was there for moral support. Zack was glad he was there; Alex was the only person left he cared about. He let Mayor Sheppard give the eulogy, which he performed well. Sheppard had been the mayor for the last ten years, so he knew just the right things to say. There were sobs coming from the crowd that had gathered, which brought a small smile to Zack’s mouth. He was glad that everyone adored her. Then they lowered her coffin, and buried her.

Zack then replayed the last conversation that he had with his mother while she was still coherent. It was obvious that she would not make it much longer.

“Look, Zack.” She coughed a few times. “I know how long you have been waiting to go back. I know nothing I can say can change your mind from going there after I’m gone. I just wanted to say thank you for staying here all this time with me, you have been the greatest son a mother could hope for. I’m very proud of everything you have done to help with this town and in becoming a man.”

She reached over to the night stand and opened a drawer and pulled out a small key. She handed it to Zack. “This will open the trunk of your father’s belongings. Please treat them well.”

She then took off her wedding ring and placed it in Zack’s other hand. It was a small silver ring that had a sun, a crescent moon which both had faces, as well as three shooting stars. “This has always kept me safe since your father gave this to me on our wedding day. I want you to always carry it with you so you remain safe."

She closed her eyes for a moment and then re opened them. “I know you can do anything you put your mind to. I will be with you always in your heart.”

Zack closed both his hands clenching them tightly with the key in one, and the ring in the other. “You did a great job raising me as a single mother where most would have turned to alcohol or drugs. I am very grateful that you have been so caring to me for my whole life and thank you for all that you have done."

"I will make the journey to New Vegas and revive our family name which was dishonored all those years ago. The Tull family will pay for what was done, and I will prove my worth in poker. I love you so very much.” Zack leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

She stared up at him with her hazel eyes and smiled. “Do well Zack, I love you.” Zack nodded and then turned around and left the room.

Zack’s eyes watered as he was going over these painful memories, he reached down with his right hand to his chest where he wore his mother’s ring on a small chain, and squeezed it.

“You’re always with me.”

Zack stared at nothing for a few minutes, remembering some good memories with his mother, and smiled. The breeze that had been such a blessing before had ceased. Zack snapped back into reality. He then put his pack by the end of his bedroll, and lay down. He pulled his goggles back up to his eyes. They did a good job keeping the light of the day out while he slept. He then closed his eyes and planned on resting till sundown.

Chapter 1.3 – A Father's Lesson

August 17th, 2279

The temperature was starting to cool. Zack stirred in his sleep, turned on his right side and opened his eyes. Darkness was just starting to envelop the land. The moon was in its last quarter, a half moon, sitting just above the eastern horizon. The moon provided decent light for traveling at night which Zack preferred to do. The temperature is better, there is less water waste through sweating, and it was harder to be spotted by people, whether they are friend or foe. Zack glanced around to his right, did not see any dangers, and his instincts told him the same thing. He sat up and rested his back against the rock outcropping that had given him shade while he slept. He opened his pack, pulled out his container of food, and pulled some Brahmin jerky out and munched on it. It was very salty and dry, but his stomach welcomed the nourishment. Zack put the container back in his pack, and reached for his canteen and took a mouthful.

Zack looked down and made sure his boots were tied tight. His boots were some old work boots that he was able to acquire which were ankle high and faded black. Satisfied with his boots he then dusted off the lower part of his pants that had been lying in the dirt while he slept. They were some old pre war combat fatigues. He wasn’t sure what country that they had been from originally, but they have held up very well for him over the years. At one point they had been a dark black he supposed. They were now a charcoal grey from years of the sun beating on them, as well as wear from daily activities. The knees and shins had been reinforced by Zack. He put extra padding in the knees for the times he had get down quickly and didn’t want to worry about injury. For the shins he sewed some pieces of heavy plastic on the inside. You never knew when you needed to run, and you did not want to get you shins taken out by random objects such as jutting rebar. It also provided support against attacks, any decent raider knows someone cannot fight or run if they cannot stand. So they usually opt to attack your legs first.

Zack had a leather belt that he wore on his waist. He didn’t actually need the belt to hold up his pants, they fit him quite well. The belt was used for attaching his gear. On his right back side it held a small string closed pouch which had a few caps, bobby pins, and some chewing gum. On his left side he wore a sheath which held his combat knife that he had owned as long as he could remember. To the right of this he had two small buttoned pouches that held a speed loader in each for a .44 magnum. Over this belt he wore another, which was hanging at a crossed angle, his holster. The holster held his most sentimental possession, his dad’s revolver. It was grayish black in color with a reddish wooden grip. The barrel was of medium length and sat snugly in the holster. The revolver was weighted well for a man of Zack’s size. Along the strap he was able to store more rounds of ammo. He had only about eighteen on there at the moment; it could however hold double that. Zack did not have it fully filled, he did not like to have his rounds exposed to the elements for too long. It sometimes made them become useless if they got wet or too hot.

Tucked into his pants was a short sleeved, faded, dark blue shirt. The shirt had been snagged on many things over time and had quite a few small holes. This did not bother him though, because over this he wore a tan leather duster. The duster was dirtied up a bit, but it was made of strong material and had held up against the worst. The lower back part had a few chard blackened spots from a fire. Zack at one point had to run through a building as it was burning around him. He kept the sleeves rolled up to his elbows when he traveled at night, but wore them long to during the day to protect against the sun. There were large pockets on each side of the duster that were empty at the time. He used these for quick spots to put any useful items he found while traveling, and then later he moved them to his pack. He did not like to stay in one spot exposed too long. In the mid back part there was a small slit. A leather strap slides inside through here which hooks to the other part of the strap and exits through the opening in the front of the duster. The strap attaches to a metal pauldron on Zack’s left shoulder. The pauldron is composed of strong steel and angled up a bit to protect his neck as well. Most people, being right handed, usually attack with melee weapons at an arc to the left side, and the pauldron protects this area.

On the outside of the upper arm on each side of the duster, he has sewed on leather pieces which were about six inches in length for added cushioned support. On his hands he wore fingerless leather gloves. Around his neck he wore a grey cloth garment, similar to a scarf. He usually wore this wrapped around his head and face when he traveled during the day, or when a dust storm was fast approaching. With it wrapped around his head and his tinted goggles on, he was sure he looked menacing to others, but he was good at heart.

Zack rubbed the top of his head a few times, getting any dirt and debris off of it. His hair is dark brown, but he always keeps it buzzed cut. It helps his head stay cool, and keeps the bugs from making a colony in his scalp. Zack reached down and made sure the revolver was strapped in tight in the holster. He had always seen his father with this revolver when he was young. It was one of the few things remaining of his father. Growing up, Zack did not get to see his father as much as he liked. His parents and he lived in a small settlement outside of New Vegas called Blue Diamond. It was where Zack was born and lived during his childhood. His father worked for the Tull family in New Vegas. He worked security in their casino, as well as any dirty work they wanted accomplished as well. There were a few families fighting for control, but the Tull’s were one of the most powerful. His father would sometime be gone for weeks doing a job, coming back with bruises and injuries, but he hid his work from Zack as best he could. He did not want Zack to worry. His mother hated that he had to work for the Tull family, but it was the only way to provide in the area. If you were not working for one of the families in the city, you were considered an enemy or collateral damage.

Zack crouched down by the end of his bedroll, the night was still silent. As he rolled it up he thought of a pleasant memory of his father. His father always taught him how to work hard, shoot expertly, and play strong poker. There was one day when his father had come back home in the early morning after have been working all night. Zack was only six at the time, and he had rushed up and gave his father a big hug.

“Hey bud boy, I see that you missed me. Didn’t think that I was going to come home for a bit when I left last night?” His father had asked.

“I thought you were going to leave mommy and me alone again.” Zack responded while looking up at his father with a wide grin. “Are you going to teach me today daddy. Please?”

“I suppose I could. It’s about that time for you anyhow.” He put his hand on Zack’s head and ruffled up his hair.

“Hey, cut it out!” Zack said as he laughed.

“Don’t think you could do me a favor, grab some food from your mother, and I’ll meet me down where I shoot?”

“You got it daddy!” He then ran to the house to find his mother.

His father spent most of the morning with him. He first went over the proper safety for handling a gun, and then how to load it by releasing the cylinder latch. He then showed him the proper way to hold his revolver, aiming techniques, and squeezing, not pulling the trigger, when you had a target. They practiced on old rusted tin cans that rested on boulders. Zack was a horrible shot in the beginning, but he was able to get his own small .32 revolver later that year, and practiced frequently with it.

“Now remember Zack, don’t aim with your gun, aim with your eyes. If you have to kill when your life is in danger, don’t kill with your gun, kill with your heart.” Zack’s father had told him when they were done for the day.

“You were such a great instructor.” Zack thought as he was still crouched by the rock outcropping.

Zack took the now rolled up bedroll, and attached it to the underside of his pack. He put his canteen over his right shoulder, with it hanging at his left side. He stood up with his pack in one hand, put the straps through each arm, and rested it on his back. Zack looked around to get his bearings, and then began to travel northwest.

This is very good, I am looking forward to reading more, keep up the good work! :thumbsup: :thumbsup:

Thank you for reading and enjoying it. I apologize for such lengthy posts with not much going on. I just wanted to get through the main introduction of Zack as well as his character description and belongings. My future writings will have more entertainment in them as well as conversation with others.

Chapter 1.4 – A Warm Meal

August 18th, 2279

Zack had been traveling for most of the night. The only companion was the sound of his boots hitting the dirt with each step. He had been making good distance this night. He noticed a rather large steep hill with a few dead trees overhanging on the side coming up on his right. He did not take any special interest in the hill, just another landmark in the Arizona Wastes. It was not till Zack had traveled about halfway past the hill when he heard a scuffling sound. He paused where he stood with his head cocked to one side, trying desperately to comprehend what had caused it. He heard the sound again coming from somewhere on the hill, and saw a few small rocks roll down, taking some dirt along for the ride.

“What could it be? A Rad Scorpi-,”

Before Zack could finish his thought, he was struck by something that hit his lower back and caused him to stagger forwards a bit. He quickly turned around while he moved the right side of his duster aside, withdrew his revolver and aimed in into the darkness. From his left peripheral, he saw a grayish blur about as big as a medium sized dog run off into the shadows of the night.

“Damn, its worse, Jackal Rabbits.”

Jackal Rabbits in pre-war times had been just known as Jack Rabbits. They were desert dwelling animals that were small in size, had brownish fur that covered their bodies. They usually were solitary creatures until they found a mate and had offspring. They were herbivores, only eating vegetation that they were able to scavenge. In the pre-war days, if a Jack Rabbit was approached by a human, they would skitter off and hide somewhere. They had once been called cute animals, but with the radiation from the fallout from Phoenix, they had been mutated into these horrible creatures, Jackal Rabbits. They had grown twice in size. Only small patches of grey fur speckled their body, the rest was covered by the pink of their skin. They could now jump very far and high. Their eyes had become a feral greenish color, allowing them easier visibility in the night. With the lack of vegetation they had evolved to carnivores, their teeth became long sharp instruments for ripping flesh. They would usually hunt as a group of three or more, attacking any prey they thought they could take down and Zack was next.

By the time Zack figured out what he was up against, he got hit again from his right. A sharp pain filled his forearm, and he felt the warm stickiness of blood. The initial pain had caused him to drop his revolver. He quickly pulled his combat knife with his left hand. The Jackal Rabbit that had caused the wound was already out of sight. Zack crouched down slowly reaching blinding for his gun while he glanced around. Before he could find his gun, he saw movement, jerked his head left and saw one of them coming at him. It was running at incredible speed, and when it got about six feet from Zack, it leapt, mouth open ready to bite. Zack quickly rolled backwards swinging his left arm outward as he rolled. He felt the combat knife make contact. He heard a low gurgling moan, and the sound of the beast’s feet as it ran past.

Zack got back up into a crouched position and saw his revolver. His heart was beating rapidly and he could feel the beginnings of sweat forming on his brow. Zack grabbed his weapon and stood back up. He heard another one coming down the hill now behind him, causing small avalanches composed of rocks and pebbles. He turned to that direction and saw it just as it jumped at him. While it was in mid air, he aimed carefully and fired his revolver. The blast from the spent round, echoed in the night, the Jackal Rabbit fell to the ground, its body limp.

“One down, who knows how many more to go.” He thought grimly.

Zack turned around, and spotted two of them running towards him side by side. He raised his revolver again and took a shot at each of them. The one on the right took the round in the chest, and went down, permanently. His other shot went a little wide and impacted the dirt as the Jackal Rabbit ran on. It sprung up at Zack, but he was able to move out of the way fast enough to dodge its attack. He spun around just as the animal landed, and he shot at it once more, hitting it in the thigh of its hind leg. Even wounded, the creature was still quick, and it ran off. Zack spent a few moments surveying the area, and listening for any more of them. The attacked seemed to be concluded.

“Guess the others decided I wasn’t worth getting killed for.”

With revolver still in hand, Zack walked to where the one he had shot in the chest. It was gone however. He looked down at the ground and it looked like it had been dragged away, opposite of the way it had been attacking.

“Whoa, I didn’t take them desperate enough to eat their own.”

Zack turned back towards the hill, and saw the other one he had killed there. He placed his knife back in is sheath. He started walking over to the body while he released the cylinder latch on his revolver. He opened the cylinder, taking out the four empty casings putting them in his duster pocket, and loaded new ones from his holster’s belt. He pushed the cylinder in and heard it click. He was standing over the body of the Jackal Rabbit. Zack heard movement to his left and he turned his body with his revolver pointed out ready to fire. Zack’s face was in a scowl. He saw a young woman standing there. She had tanned light skin, with auburn hair which was worn long. She was clothed in dirtied up garments, tan pants with a grayish white shirt. She raised her hands quickly with a terrified look on her face.

“Please don’t shoot, I mean no harm. I heard the shots and just came to see if anyone was hurt.” She said with a soft voice.

Zack relaxed his face. “She probably thinks I’m some psychotic wastelander.”

The young woman looked down at the corpse at his feet, her eyes went wide. “Wow, I have never seen one so close up, only running as a pack in the distance. They are so fast, how did you manage to kill one?”

Zack looked over her a moment, and decided she was not an immediate threat, and placed his revolver back in its holster. “Trust me, it wasn’t easy.” He felt his forearm throbbing a bit. “I did get two of them but one of them was dragged away by the others.”

“Do you think they’ll come back?” She asked now lowering her arms and walking towards him.

“No, I believe they are done for the night. Mind if I ask you what you are doing out here all alone?”

“Oh, I’m not. My boyfriend David is on the other side of this hill.” She gestured behind her, “There is a path that leads through it a little ways back. My name is Amber by the way.” She was now smiling. “If you’d like, we have camp set up back there. You could bring that,” she pointed at the body at Zack’s feet, “we have some beans and dandy boy apples to add to the mix as well. We could cook them up and all share a nice warm meal.”

Zack’s stomach growled at the words, warm meal. “That sounds like a good plan Amber. The name’s Zack.” He bent down and picked up the animal and carried it by its legs.

“Pleased to meet ya.” Amber turned happily. “Follow me.”

It only took about five minutes to travel to and through the path that cut through the hill. Zack and Amber came to a clearing where a small fire was burning. There was a blackened dead tree nearby that overhung the fire. Zack figured it was what they were using to fuel it. A man that had been sitting with his back to the tree quickly stood up, no doubt from the sound of Amber and his footsteps. His hair was messy, and he was dressed very similar to Amber, but with a green jacket on. He was branding a hockey stick, and had a scared look in his eyes.

“W-wh-who’s there!” The man said quite loudly, his arms tensed as he was poised to strike.

Amber responded first. “David, its ok it’s me.”

David stood ready for an attack. “Th-there is someone behind you. Who is it?”

“This is Zack. He was on the other side of this hill. The gunshots were from him. He was attacked by a pack of Jackal Rabbits. He killed two of them and the others fled.”

Zack stepped forward. “Hi David, Amber has invited me to your camp so we can share a meal. I brought the main course.” He dropped the carcass on the ground.

“O-okay, that sounds good.” David lowered the hockey stick and laid it against the tree. “Sorry about that. You can never be too careful out here.”

“Understandable.” Zack responded.

They all sat down around the fire, Zack on one side, Amber and David sitting close on the other. Amber opened two cans of beans, and placed them by the fire to warm them. Zack leaned against his pack and tended to the wound on his arm. It was still bleeding a little bit, and the rest of his forearm was caked with dried blood. He rinsed it off with a little water first. He then stuck his combat knife in the fire, left it there for a few minutes, then pulled it out and cauterized the open wound. The pain was sharp, but only lasted for about a minute as he held it there. After being satisfied with it, Zack searched for a couple of good sized rocks which were able to hold his metal plate upon over the fire. He used his combat knife to cut strips of meat off the carcass. He placed three large pieces on his plate and placed it over the fire. The aroma filled their nostrils and their stomachs churned in anticipation. They all sat in silence, patiently waiting for the meal to be ready.

Very excellent!

Am still reading and hope to read more.

Chapter 1.5 – The Man Called Nom

August 18th, 2279

Watching the fire flicker in front of them, and the stars twinkling above, the three of them had sat waiting till the meat was finally ready. Amber brought out a plate, and accepted two of the large pieces from Zack. She covered her hand with the sleeve of her shirt, and passed Zack one of the cans of now warm beans. While the meat had been cooking, Zack had taken notice of David taking off his jacket and placing it aside. Even with the cool night air, David had been sweating quite profusely. Zack took a bite of the meat. It had its own unique smoky taste to it, and was rather good considering he had no idea what the animal had eaten in its life. Zack chewed a few times, and then swallowed. He looked up over the fire at Amber and David as they hungrily ate at theirs. Zack scooped up some of the beans and ate them as well.

“Not too bad for pre-war food” Thought happily as he ate.

"Yours taste as good as mine?” Zack asked.

“Y-yes, it’s very good.” David said back.

Amber looked up and smiled, “Mine is excellent, we are very grateful that you shared with us.”

Zack nodded, “Well, I couldn’t have eaten it all by myself, and you did already have a fire going, so it worked out well.”

“Yep.” Amber responded with her mouth full.

While the food had been cooking, Zack had seen two packs leaning on the side of the tree.

“Do you two live out here in the wastes, or are you headed somewhere?”

“No way, it’s t-t-too dangerous to try and survive out here indefinitely.” David responded quickly.

“Yeah, we are headed to the southeast a ways. The place we had lived for quite some time had a visitor arrive one day. Our whole town gathered to hear him speak. He told us of a place about a week’s travel, southeast our own. He said if you look for a mountain range that looks like a man’s head facing up, that the place would be at the base of that mountain. He spoke of such great many things. There was an abundance of food, clean water, and safe from raiders and animals. If we were to go, we would be given a home to stay in, and land to farm. He called the place Shady Paradise.”

When Zack heard this name, he dropped his fork to his plate, and choked a bit on his food.

“No way, he’s still out there spreading his lies.” Anger burned in Zack's heart.

Amber looked over concerned. “Are you okay Zack?”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just that man. Let me guess, he was dressed in fancy pre-war wear, and called himself Nom?”

“Yes.” She said slowly. “How did you know that?”

“This man, Nom, he too came to my town to visit.” Zack paused and took a deep breath and exhaled. “This was earlier this year, right about the beginning of spring. He told all of us of these same things. We had heard rumors of strange actions occurring in this area that he spoke up, and most of our residents took him as a liar. There was however one family, the Keaton’s, composed of Jack Keaton, his wife, and two daughters that believed different. The town’s militia had asked this man Nom to leave nicely, and he did. He probably knew that at least someone had been swayed. We argued with the Keaton’s for quite sometime, but it was of no use. They packed their belongings on a couple of their Brahmin, and left for the southeast. We figured it would be the last we saw of Jack Keaton and his family.”

David lay down on the ground with his head on Amber’s lap, and closed his eyes. Apparently he was tired, or he was very bored with Zack’s story. She pulled out the box of dandy boy apples from her pack, took a couple out for herself. “Want any?”

Zack shook his head. He then stared at the fire dying down as he continued. “I was part of the safety for the town, by serving with the militia. It wasn’t till a couple of months later that we were on patrol early in the morning, a few hours till sunrise, and my squad and I came across a man. We could only make out his shadow at first since it was still nightfall. This man was staggering as he walked; wearing torn dirty garments, and was mumbling incoherently. We had raised our weapons, telling this man to halt, but he seemed to not understand, or even notice our presence. We approached him, and it was then we realized it was Jack. He seemed to have many wounds across the parts of his body we could see. None were life threatening at the moment though. I treated him there as best as I could before we moved him back into town to our med clinic.”

“Our doctor, Sylvia examined him and determined he was almost dehydrated, and very mal nourished. She thought the reason he was mumbling and unable to answer questions was because of some sort of post traumatic stress. The doctor’s treatment was fluids, food, and lots of rest. She sedated him and strapped him to a gurney so he would not be harmful to others or himself, and attached an I.V. that would re hydrate him. He stayed in the med clinic for a week before he was aware of his surroundings.”

“I was there along with our commanding officer, Captain Fadden, as Jack Keaton was interrogated. He had no recollection of how he had managed to get back, or what happened to him along they way. He did recall however, the place called Shady Paradise. He said it only took his family about five days to get to the mountain range that was described by Nom. At the base built into the side of the mountain there was this strange fortification there. They saw high towers and long walls made out of brick. The Keaton’s had went to the entrance where huge wooden doors stood before them. They did no see anyone in the front, so they pounded on the door. They were greeted by a group of people, wearing strange obsidian robes with hoods. They were welcomed and shown to their new domicile, along with some land that was within the boundaries of the walls where they were able to keep their Brahmin and grow food. Jack told us that everything seemed really well there. They met others who had traveled far as well, and all felt really safe in this new place.”

Zack looked up over at Amber and saw that she was stroking David’s hair as he slept. David every now and then would shudder, and moan slightly.

“The stuttering, sweating, and night shudders. Now I understand. Poor guy.”

Amber took notice of Zack’s silence and looked into his eyes. “Was that all he could remember?” She asked.

Zack sat for a moment. “No, there is more. How long has he been without a fix?”

She winced at this question. “I was hoping that you wouldn’t notice. He uses jet quite regularly to help in the manual labor he does. It allows him to work longer and harder than the others. He had to kick his habit though to be able to afford our traveling supplies and to clear a few debts we had. He doesn’t strike out against me in anger or anything, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Zack nodded. “I’ve heard that if you can make it a week without the junk and get it completely out of your system, you’ll be good.”

“I hope so.” She said softly.

Zack continued on with what was told. “Well, Jack said a few weeks had gone by, and the only thing out of the ordinary was they were asked to attend a weekly meeting with the elders of the group. The meetings were strange and everyone was to meet in some kind of hall. Words were read from a large book about the some kind of makers he had never heard of, how they created the world, and the way we angered them with all the hatred we put upon others. So the makers released these giant lizard creatures who could breathe fire upon the world to cause havoc and destroy the evil ones and their cities if sin. It was now their job to pray diligently to the makers, and prepare for the day they must continue the work of the dragons had started, and remove all the non believers from the wastes. Jack Keaton thought this to be absurd, so he and his family stopped attending. They were told by other residents that they need to go to the meetings to understand history. Jack shrugged them off. They were visited by the elders a few times and told it was imperative they go, and prepare for the coming times. Jack still didn’t go, and then a few days went by and his wife went missing. He searched everywhere, and found her dead, her body attached to a wall with spikes and the words non believer written on her chest with charcoal.”

“That is horrible.” Amber eyes had started to water.

“Yeah, I know. It just gets worse. Angered by what Jack saw he went back to his home, and got a blade he kept, and went to search for blood. He found the elders in the audience hall, their backs turned. He told us he yelled at them, not remembering what he had cursed. They had turned around, he saw his two daughters in between them. He then repeated what they said. Hello Mr. Keaton, since you decided to be a non believer, we had to take certain actions so others would not fall astray. Your daughters have chosen the right path. They are with us, and follow the maker’s teachings. One of the elders handed a small blade to one of his daughters. She took it, an absent look on her face as she spoke aloud. For the makers! Then slit her throat. Jack told us he remembered screaming, but could not recall anything until he woke up in our med clinic. He told us he wished he listened to us, and never put his family in harms way.”

Zack shifted to a more comfortable position. “We believed what he told us, and allowed him to return to his old home. We found him dead a week later. He hung himself from a pipe in his basemant, there was no note left behind, but we figured why he did it. Now, I tell you all of this in great detail to hope you will not go to Shady Paradise. It will only be the end of you or your soul.”

“Yes, this sadly changes everything. I feel so stupid for believing the lies. We have nothing to go back to, and nowhere to go. I don’t know what we’ll do.”

Zack sighed. “Look, I think you two are decent people. If you head south of here and come to interstate eight, follow it east and you will find my town of Polvo. Tell them I have sent you, to allow you entrance and residence. There should be enough room as long as you make yourselves useful.”

“Oh thank you, that sounds so wonderful. I don’t really know what to say.”

“Just promise me you won’t go to Shady Paradise.” Zack commanded.

“Don’t worry. It’s the last place I’d like to be.”

Zack was glad he persuaded her to make the right choice. He then went back to the carcass, cutting away as much meat as he could from the animal, and cooked it. After it was done, he gave most of it to Amber, so they could eat it later as now it would not spoil as quickly. Zack put the small amount for himself in his pack. Amber and he both said their goodbyes while David slept on.

“Hope to see you again someday.” She said with sadness in her voice. “You seem like a good person to be friends with and have around. Take care of yourself.”

“You do the same."

Zack then grabbed his belongings, and made his way out of the clearing. He traveled for a few more hours. The sun had risen just a bit ago, and the heat was already starting to increase. He came to a beaten up two way road, and saw a small building to his right which sat next to the side of the road. He made his way to it. It appeared to be some kind of toll booth. A sign on it read, “Welcome to Sandy Lake Recreational Park.” Zack went to the side of the building, and found a door, it was unlocked. The place looked just the right size for him to rest for the time being.

Superb writing, Nett. Did you say this was your first fan-fic? If so, good job. I'm really interested, the only part that I shifted in and out on was the paragraphs describing his equipment. Other than that it is great, your character Zack is interesting to me because the character I RP'ed in Fallout 3 was a survivor-type, too.

I thought that I was a decent writer...but...damn, you blew me out of the water. Great work, and I hope that there are many more chapters to come.

Yeah I know, I regret making those posts so long with just describing his equipment, but I wanted to get it out of the way so I could focus on just the story. Yeah this is my first fan fic, Each post takes a bit to write, polish, and edit. Sometimes I edit again after its posted because I'll see something that sounds weird when I read it again, or I used a word too many times. I'll keep writing though, I enjoy it. It makes it easier when I can write about a place that hasn't been described before, so I can just imagine where places are and what occurs.

Well, your doing everything right. And don't remove the posts describing equipment, they are integral to visualization of the character.

Chapter 1.6 – Camping Is Intense

August 18th, 2279

Zack sprinted down along the road and crouched down by a burnt out car. He peered around the side of the rear end of the car and scanned the area. He motioned with his left hand to move up, but when looked back, he was all alone.

“Damn, where are the others?”

Zack pulled his assault rifle up and moved up to one of the buildings that served as the entrance of the town, with his back against the wall. He then moved down the street, checking building alcoves, windows, rooftops, but did not see anyone or anything. He came to a building which was badly damaged on the left side, it was collapsing inward. A sign read “City Library” on a bronze plate attached to a wall near some stairs leading up to the entrance. Zack stopped in his tracks. A body was sprawled about along the steps. He moved slowly up, assault rifle arching back and forth as he walked. He then saw who it was.

“Alex! What happened to you?”

He walked up the stairs and went inside the library. The doors creaked so loudly that he thought for sure the sound was heard everywhere in the small city. Once inside he listened for any sounds, and looked for any movement. Neither occurred, and he made his way forward. He walked down the rows of shelves littered with degraded books, most likely unusable. Zack came to an open area with desks with old computer terminals sitting on them. He spotted blood spattered across a few of the desks. Alarmed, Zack quickly moved to the other side of the area. From what was in front of him, he had to use all of his willpower to keep his stomach from erupting. The carpet was stained with blood, and littered with body parts. Near the center, he found the remains of three badly torn up bodies. He closed his eyes and cursed. It was Jeremy, Darren, and Gavin, the rest of his squad.

“This was only supposed to be a recon mission, damn it!”

Zack heard the sound of breathing behind him. He quickly turned around and saw what had caused the demise of his squad. Standing ominously four feet taller than him, arms flexed ready to strike, was a Deathclaw. Zack’s eyes widen, and he drew his assault rifle up aiming at the beast’s core, and squeezed the trigger. All was heard was a faint click from his gun. It did not fire. The Deathclaw grunted a few times as if laughing at him, and swung its right arm. Zack had little time to react, he tried lean backwards to avoid the attack, but his left arm was struck.

The pain was so unbearable he dropped his assault rifle and covered his wound with his right arm. He turned around and ran. He saw a door way ahead of him, and could hear the thumps of the Deathclaw’s feet in pursuit. Zack made it through the door shutting it behind him, and locking it with his good arm. The room was some sort of maintenance storage area, which had a ladder bolted against the wall leading up to what Zack thought would be the roof. The Deathclaw started pounding at the door.

“That door won’t last two minutes.”

Zack made his way up the ladder as fast as his wounded arm allowed. He had to push open a latched door once at the top to gain access to the roof. He pulled himself up, and rolled over on his back. He closed his eyes, and tried to fight the pain in his arm.

“No way can that monster make it up here. It’s too big.”

Zack heard a low growling sound from his right. He opened his eyes and looked over, his mind racing on what would be there. Another Deathclaw was up here, and it started making its way towards him.

"Can’t I catch a break today?”

Zack got up and starting backing away as the Deathclaw moved closer. He pulled out his combat knife, his last defense. As Zack moved further back, he felt one of his feet halfway off the building, he had to quickly pull it back and fought to regain his balance. The Deathclaw starting sprinting towards him and Zack prepared to thrust his arm, trying to aim for the creature’s throat. The Deathclaw was too fast however. It attacked and its claws pierced Zack’s chest and stomach. Breathing became difficult for Zack. Most likely one of his lungs had been penetrated. He dropped his now useless knife and coughed up blood. The Deathclaw lifted him up into the air and flung him off the building. Zack looked to the ground, his impending doom coming closer with each second. He was about to impact-

Zack woke up quickly and let out a short cry. His heart was thumping loudly in his chest, and he was breathing rapidly. It felt like he had actually landed on the floor of the toll booth. His arms and legs seem to be in pain, and he had a hard time moving them. After about half of minute Zack realized where he was and let out a sigh of relief.

“It was just a nightmare."

This recon mission had actually happened. It was a couple of years ago when Zack was ordered to lead a squad to check out a city nearby his town where caravans and traders had been disappearing over the last few months. The squad went expecting to find some new raider group that had moved in, but found a lone Deathclaw inhabitant instead. The events in his dream were a lot different than the actual ones that had occurred. He was never wounded by the Deathclaw, or thrown from a rooftop. Zack only lost two members of his team, Darren and Gavin. They were ripped apart by the vicious creature. With fast acting on his part, the remaining part of the squad was able to take it down with a coordinated attack. This memory has always haunted him. It was a constant reminder that no matter how well you plan, things can go wrong, very fast.

Zack sat up, and looked outside the window of the small building. The sky had a grey overcast, and he did not see any dangers from this view. He usually only preferred to travel at night, but this nightmare was a recurring one. He would not be able to sleep for quite some time. He opened his pack and removed the tin container. He ate the squirrel bits and mutfruit. The mutfruit tasted alright, but the squirrel bits were quite tough and lacked any real flavor. All Zack had left for his food supplies were a little bit of Brahmin jerky, and some cuts of cooked Jackal Rabbit. He reached for his canteen, and drank the last of the water in it. He refilled it with the water bladder from his pack. There was enough water in the bladder for about two more refills.

Zack rolled up his bedroll, and reattached it to his pack. He stood up and began to search the place for any supplies. He had been too tired when he first arrived about six hours ago. In front of him he found an old register on a counter with some pre-war money in it, useless now. There were some papers shuffled about, none looked to serve any purpose. Behind him he found two five foot lockers. The left one had a padlock on it, so he opened the right one first. Inside on the top shelf he found three boxes of .32 caliber ammo. He glanced down on the bottom and located a first aid kit. He kneeled down and grabbed the box and opened it. Inside he found a stimpak, one bottle of rad-x, and two syringes of med-x. He took all the medical supplies and put them in his pack with the ones he already had. Zack stood back up, grabbed the three boxes of ammo, and put those in his pack as well. He turned his attention to the left locker. He took out his multi tool along with a bobby pin. It took several minutes to pick the lock. He opened the locker and found nothing. It looked like it held some kind of rifle at some point in time. Disappointed, Zack closed the door.

“Guess the ammo could be used as trading fodder, since it is meaningless to me.” He thought hopefully.

The cloud cover was starting to break up by the emerging sun. Zack pulled up his tinted goggles over his eyes and wrapped his face and head with his cloth garment. He left the toll booth, thanking no one in particular for the safe place to rest, and made his way down the road that led to the Sandy Lake Recreational Park.

After a bit of walking, Zack came to forest of the skeletal remains of burnt up dead trees. The trees were of many sizes, and all along their bases were the brownish wasteland weeds that seem to pollute the land no matter where one went. He paused for a moment when he got closer to the trees to take in the surroundings. He did not sense any immediate danger, so he continued on. After a bit of walking he came to what was left of the lake. The lake had been large when it had been full. It was just a standing crater now, with a small amount of dark color liquid near its center. The water looked too dangerous from this distance to even bother checking it. He saw a small dock with two boats tied to it, but now they rested on the ground to remain endlessly. Zack looked around from where he stood on the road. He felt some kind of presence, but did not see anything.

Zack continued on a bit more and came across a campsite to his right. A picnic table was in the center with two camp trailers on each side. He walked to the closest trailer. The door was missing from it. He went inside and found only moldy mattresses. He stepped back out of the trailer and made his way to the other. He heard the sound of movement behind him. Zack turned his body to his left and was hit by some kind of wooden weapon. Luckily since he turned, his shoulder pauldron took the bulk of the hit which was aimed at the back of his head. A small part did hit his head however, he saw white spots and his vision became blurred. Zack was pushed with his back against the side of the trailer in front of him. He felt pressure on his arms restraining him in place. He saw four fuzzy black silhouettes in front of him. He figured they were some group of raiders.

“Heya buddy.” The figure in front of Zack said as he punched him in the gut a few times. He could tell the voice was male and his breath reeked of vodka. “We’ve have been following you for a bit, since you entered our little park, and waited for an opportune moment to introduce ourselves.” Zack’s head was still cloudy from the blow earlier to his head and could not muster any response. “Let’s see what goodies you brought for my friends and I, shall we?” The man began to take his pack off, one arm at a time.

Zack’s head was wavering from side to side. A gust of wind came rushing by, causing the branches of the trees to shake, and make an eerie sound that caused Zack to shudder. The air smelled of decayed flesh and feces. Zack’s vision was just starting to come into focus.

“That smell, it smells like a-“

There was a loud bellow from the left, and a large hairy figure came running by on four legs. All heads turned toward it. The first man was struck with a claw and went down holding his gushing throat. The creature pounced on the next man who screamed in horror as he was mauled. The man holding Zack shouted a curse and took off. Zack slumped down to his knees. The pain in his body was still severe. The last raider was female, standing motionless, her eyes and mouth wide open. The creature finally took notice of her, latched on to her left arm with its teeth and pulled her to the ground. The screams of her dying filled the once silent campground. Zack now realizing he would be next if he did not move, went into a prone position and rolled under the trailer. He reached out his arm and pulled on his pack which barely had enough clearance to make it under. Zack placed his hand to the ring he wore around his neck and gripped it firmly.

“Please help me.”

Zack crawled out from under the other side of the trailer and sat crouched. He placed his pack on his back. He started making his way slowly away from the trailer as silent as he could. When he felt safe enough he started to sprint, heading east. While he was running, he thought of a phrase he had heard once, “Don’t feed the Yao Guai.” As of right now however, he was glad someone else had done so.

Still in attention. last chapter wasn't too exciting, But it's starting to develop Zack's background story. Good job, I'm still looking forward to more.

This guy has some seriously bad luck with deathclaws, huh? My attention is still your prisoner.

Chapter 1.7 – Fragaria Ananassa

August 18th, 2279

Zack traveled for a few hours, putting good distance away from him and the park. Along the way he checked his injury to his head, found dried blood, but otherwise it was not serious. He popped a couple of mentats to help clear his mind. The sun had been burning bright as it made its way to the horizon behind him and he took notice of the small mountain range to the north that had grown very close. He was angry with himself for wanting to explore the park. He did not remember seeing its location on his map, and was curious as what was there. Mistakes like that usually get one killed, which almost happened. During pre-war times, the lake would have been a wonderful place to go on a weekend with your family. Barbequing, swimming, and fishing would be fun activities to pass the time. The display that the campground had showed seemed like whoever had been there when the bombs dropped had decided beforehand to take their families there to try and survive the holocaust to come. Zack liked to hope that they were able to live at the park peacefully, for many years while the Earth changed to the godforsaken place it is today.

Zack came across a crumbling road which had several rusting cars resting upon it. He wondered if it was the same road that traveled through the park. Two of the cars had collided with each other, no telling how long ago it had happened. Twisted metal from each car had formed jutted upwards. The accident could have been when the bombs hit Phoenix, or sometime after when the exodus occurred. There was a decayed skeleton resting on the hood of one of the cars, with half of its body still in the vehicle. Zack glanced to the other car and saw another skeleton in the driver’s seat behind the wheel. The passenger door on this vehicle was open though, so perhaps there was one survivor of this tragic accident. Zack made his way closer to the cars and quickly checked the interiors, but found nothing of use. He turned back to the east, and saw something glinting in the light. He pulled out his binoculars and focused on the object in the distance. He saw a red and silver sign atop a pole which read “Red Rocket Service Station” over some rolling hills about a mile and half from where he stood.

“Well, I’ve already gone this far, they might have some supplies there.” He thought with optimism.

The wind picked up, and caused a small dust devil to appear that traveled across the road in front of him. Zack returned his binoculars to his pack, and walked along the side of the road towards the sign in the distance.

The place appeared to be void of life as Zack approached it. He had hoped there would be a good sized town here, but found only three buildings that made up the place. There was a traffic light at the end of the buildings which had a road going towards the north to the small mountain range, and the one continuing east that he had traveled to get here. On his left was a good sized building with one story composed of red bricks with green awnings, which looked to be some kind of general goods store. Most of its windows were broken, and from what Zack could tell, the place had long been emptied of supplies. There was a smaller building next to this one painted in yellows and blues with a strange small wooden statue near the door with one arm raised up a smile across its face. The head was distorted into some enlarged three layered object with some kind of swirl on the top. A sign above the door read “Mr. Tastee’s Homemade Ice Cream”, the letters were faded badly and Zack had a hard time reading it at first.

“I wonder if that stuff his head is made of is supposed to be this “ice cream” stuff.”

To his right was the Red Rocket Service station. It had two gas pumps, a convenience store, and attached to the convenience store was a two car service garage with both of its doors pulled open. Zack heard soft music coming from the open garage consisting of what he thought was piano some sort of stringed instrument. The song was beautiful to his ears, but seemed out of place here in the wastes.

Zack not talking chances this time pulled out his revolver and held it at the ready. In a light jog he made his way past the gas pumps towards the convenience store. The windows were covered in grime and he could not see anything inside. Zack took his pack off and rested it on the sidewalk there, along with his canteen as well. He crouched low he made his way to the first opening of the garage. From the overhanging roof he noticed a sort of wind chime, shell casings of different calibers were hanging around the outside of empty rusted tin can. At the moment the air was still, and it was not moving. He swung around the corner with his revolver aimed, ready to fire.

“If you’re gonna to kill me, I gotta tell you I ain’t got any caps or much anything of value. Unless someone is paying you to do so, then I guess I’m just [censored] out of luck then.” A voice said in front of Zack.

Inside the garage it was dim, the only light coming from a small oil lamp hanging from the ceiling. A man wearing blue jeans and a red plaid short sleeved shirt was sitting on a wooden chair with a glass in hand. The man had tanned skin, his face looked of Asian decent and he appeared to be in his late fifties or early sixties. Most nowadays do not get the pleasure of living past their forties with all the dangers present in this world. His hair was cut short and was graying along the sides. Next to him sat a make shift table made up of two wood crates, one stacked atop the other. On the top crate sat a sawed off shotgun and a bottle of what Zack thought was sure to be alcohol. Behind the man Zack could see a bed lengthwise against the wall. A wooden book case and work bench sat next to each other against the wall as well to the foot of the bed. The shelves held an assortment of items ranging from old pre-war relics to random pieces of junk as far as Zack could tell. On the top shelf sat a still, with a dark brown liquid dripping and collecting in the larger container. The work bench held some tools as well as an old pre-war hand-crank record player placed on top. There was a cone shaped speaker protruding from it. It was the source of that wonderful music.

Zack stood up slowly, putting the revolver back in its holster as he did so. He laughed inwardly at what the man had said before him.

“Sorry, not here to kill you sir. Just passing through.”

“Well in that case,” The man said smiling, “if you don’t mind staying awhile to chat some. It has been quite some time since anyone has been through here. Most people avoid this area like a plague.”

Zack undid his head garment, and pulled his goggles down. He stared curiously at the man. “Alright, you have my interest. What’s wrong with the area?”

“Ha hah! Okay, okay, first things first. The name’s Rex Donovan, the most elite scavenger in all the southwest! Let me grab you a chair and get us some food.” Rex placed his glass down on the crate, almost leaping out of the chair, walked over to a door to the right, and went through it. It looked to lead to the convenience store.

Zack turned around and walked out of the garage to retrieve his pack and canteen that was left on the sidewalk. He reached down and picked up the canteen and placed it loosely on his shoulder. He grabbed his pack by the top part and held it by his side. He looked around the area, all was quiet and still. The sun was just starting to disappear between the border of the land and sky. It created intense colors of intertwined reds and oranges.

“I can see why he would settle down in a place like this.”

Zack did not know how long he had been standing on the sidewalk watching the sun disappear. Some wind sped through the street making the casings of the wind chime to tap wildly at the tin can. The sound startled Zack causing him to jump a little. He made his way back to the inside of the garage. He placed his gear on the inside wall by one of the open doors. Rex came out at this moment from the door. He was carrying another wooden chair by the arms in front of him. On the seat of the chair rested a plate that had ears of corn on it, and a bowl with red items that Zack could not identify.

“Whew, sorry took so long, thought you might have left. I wanted to heat up this corn. Helps it go down easier.”

“No worries.” Zack responded.

Zack helped Rex by taking the plate and bowl off the chair and held them while Rex lined up the chair on the other side of the make shift table. Rex moved his sawed off shot gun to the floor by his chair, and took the food from Zack and placed them on the crate. They both sat down, staring at the empty good store across the street in front of them.

“What’s your name and where you headed?” Rex picked up one of the ears of corn and took a couple of bites off of it.

“I’m Zack. I’m making my way to New Vegas.” Zack picked one up as well, and had forgotten how hungry he had been. It was warm and had just a nice amount of salt on it. He finished his in less than a minute.

“Damn boy! What’s the matter, they don’t feed ya where you come from?” Rex asked while chuckling.

Zack shook his head a few times. “Sorry, just didn’t realize I hadn’t eaten much today.”

“You think the corn is good, try one of these.” Rex picked up the bowl of red things, and offered it to Zack.

Zack looked down at them, still not sure what they were or if they would kill him. They looked like some sort of fruit. They had small yellow specs covering its body. He picked up one of them by a leafy stem, and took a bite from the smaller end of it. The flavor from it surged in his mouth. It was very sweet, and seemed to be full of moisture at the same time. He quickly put the rest of it in his mouth to eat.

Rex let out a roar of laughter while he slapped his leg. “Pretty good huh? Won’t find these just anywhere in the wastes.”

“Their wonderful, what are they?” He asked as he went to grab another one.

“They’re called strawberries. I have a small garden behind this garage growing all sorts of things. You see, quite a few years back I came across this shed in someone’s back yard. I had to move some boxes, but found some doors under them with stairs leading down. I found a metal door, which was open, inside was a shelter of some kind, most likely to protect against the bombs. I’m guessing whoever it belonged too got trapped in some city when the bombs fell, and never got to use it. Inside was a treasure trove of items, food, water, weapons, and even a box of lots of these little packets full of seeds. There were a lot of different kinds of fruits and vegetables. On the package it said they’d be good for hundreds of years, and it’s what I’ve been surviving on for a long time.”

“Strawberries huh? Well, thank you for sharing them. Others wouldn’t do the same thing in your position.”

“Yeah, but most people are [censored]. They’ll get what is coming to them. Good old karma makes sure of that. So, you seem like an upright kind of guy. Why are you heading to a crazy place like New Vegas? I’ve been through there a couple of times for business, and have always come out worse than I went in!”

Zack sat for a moment before answering. “Well, I have business with someone that needs to be taken care of.”

Rex studied his face as he said this. “Ah, you have that look of revenge in your eyes. I’ve seen that look all too often. You’re more likely to get killed before you get the job done.”

“If that’s the way things are meant to be, so be it. But, I’m still going to try.” Zack said coldly.

“Well alright, best of luck to ya Zack. Just watch your back in that place. Most people there are liars, thieves, killers, and just down right [censored].”

“Yeah I know. I won’t be able to live with myself till I go there though.”

The music that had been playing softly had ceased. Zack looked back at the record player. “Think we can put that on again? It was quite comforting.”

“Ah so you like Bach? You have good taste in music.” Rex got up to attend to the record player.

“You lied you know.” Zack called over his shoulder. “You do have something of value. That thing has to be worth its weight in caps to the right buyer.”

Rex laughed loudly. “Yeah, I did, but even the smartest raider wouldn’t figure that out. Most don’t know their face from their [censored].”

The music started playing again, and Rex sat back down. They continued eating at the corn and strawberries. They ate in silence listening to the soothing music playing behind them, while watching the last bit of light dissolve into the coming night.

That was an intriguing chapter on wasteland life, it makes sense for a skilled scavver to be able to make his own little place in the world.

Chapter 1.8 – Let There Be Dust

August 18th, 2279

After Zack and Rex finished the corn and strawberries, Rex poured himself some scotch from the bottle that still rested on the crate and offered some to Zack. Zack declined and got up from his chair and went for his canteen instead. He took a few swigs from the canteen and then placed it back down. He went into his pack and retrieved his map from its false bottom hiding place. Zack moved to the crate and took the plate, bowl, and bottle of scotch off the crate and placed them near the shotgun on the ground that was already there. He unfolded his map and laid it out across the crate, the sides overlapping the small surface area.

“Don’t suppose I could ask you some questions about the area now?” Zack asked as he turned his chair to face the map. The map was on a large piece of brownish yellowing paper with frayed corners. It could not be modified in its current state however, someone had used clear tape and covered the front and back with it as a way to preserve it.

“Why sure. But first can you help me get these doors closed. Rad Scorpions tend to wander nearby at night.” Zack helped him close each one. Rex latched them on the bottom with dead bolts sealing them in. He then turned his chair to face the map as well, still taking sips of his drink. “My my, this is a very detailed piece of work. From some of the trails drawn on here my guess you got this from a caravan owner. Or did you just happen to come across some ambushed caravan somewhere and get it off a rotting corpse?”

Zack shook his head. “It was from one of the caravans that visited my town once a month. A guard there had been running with caravans most of his life, and was planning on retiring from the business. He’d been to many places in the southwest, but mainly Arizona. There’s only a little bit of information on California, Nevada, and New Mexico. I bought the map off him for a good amount of caps, he seemed glad to be rid of it.”

Zack gestured on the map with his finger, “This is where I started, my town of Polvo, and I was making my way up like this.” He moved his finger in the direction he traveled. “I went through a park a ways back, and am not too sure how long I had been traveling. I have no idea where I’m currently at on the map. Does this place have a name? Is it on this map?”

Rex concentrated on the map while he shook his head. “This place has no formal name that I know of. I believe it used to be a rest stop, just a place to fill up when heading into Phoenix. Ah here!” He pointed on the map. “You see these two mountain ranges near each other. The smaller one here is the one north of us and this big blacked out area is what I was talking about earlier, why people don’t come here to often.”

“What’s there?” Zack asked quickly.

“Well, rumor from some of the people that do pass by say that in the pre-war days there was some kind of military base on the other side of that mountain. That road at the traffic light heading north leads to that base. It was one of those missile silo bases. Some think they had three or more of them in those silos. It’s said that they had orders to launch their weapons at designated targets, I have no clue as to where, maybe China. Each missile needed two people to fire it, each with their own key. One of the men stationed there couldn’t bring him self to launch them though, he knew we were at war, but he didn’t want to be responsible for the killing of millions. He and his counterpart fought about it, the arguing got heated, and he killed the man who wanted to launch the missiles. Feeling horrible about what he had done, he knew he couldn’t let those weapons fall to enemies hands. So he armed them with his key, and he had them detonate them in that base underground. The area has been glowing ever since. Because the base was underground however, most of the radiation stayed on that side of the mountain. People are fearful of this place still, but I’ve lived here for a few years with no problems so far. So I’d advise you not go through that area. There are packets of intense radiation that will make you drop to you knees.”

Rex drank the last of his scotch, and leaned back down to grab the bottle at his feet. “Do you think you would have been able to launch those things? Knowing full well what they would do?”

Zack stared at the wall behind Rex for a bit. “Not too sure what I would have done in his place. I couldn’t take the lives of innocent civilians, even if they had just done the same to us.”

“Yep, I hear that. But, if they did launch those missiles, what was left for them? Just the destruction of everyone thing they loved and cared for.” Rex said with a frown.

Looking back to the map Zack tried to change to subject. “Any thoughts on where I should go to get past this place?”

“Sure, you could go back the way you came, but that would take you a bit of traveling, and not many settlements around. I’d say keep heading east till you past this mountain, and you near that other mountain range, the Estrella Mountains. They run north and south. Follow along at its base, north, and you should be fine. See here.” He pointed to the map. “This place, Cherry Cliff, it’s a decent sized place you can stock up supplies from. I’ve been there a few times. I heard they got that mine finally going. From there you can continue to New Vegas.”

“Alright, that sounds like it could work.” Zack scratched at the stubble on his check, he usually kept clean shaven, but now the hairs were starting to agitate him. “Any other dangers I need to worry about?

“Aside from the normal [censored]? Um, well, Rad Hawks get real big around that area, they’ve been known to pick up a heavy man with their huge talons. They’re really easy to spot though, just look for the shadows moving fast along the ground, or their black silhouette in the sky. They don’t like fire too much though. Don’t know really why, but it will keep them back.”

“Thanks for the information Rex. I probably would have followed that road to the military base and ended up dead."

“No problem. Us wastelanders all gotta stick together.” Rex said grinning.

Zack folded up his map, got up and placed it back in his pack. He went and sat back down across from Rex. They talked for a few hours while music serenaded the air. They covered all subjects from Rex’s early years of scavenging, first starting out mainly in California until the New California Republic and Brotherhood of Steel started to really crack down on scavengers taking weapons, tech, and supplies that could better serve their needs. Rex then spent some time in Nevada, and finally making his way to Arizona. He had a partner named Cecilia along most of the way. He thought they loved each other, but one night she took off with all their caps and left a note with only the word “Sorry” written upon it. Zack told him of his time working as part of the militia, protecting the town and its people, and some missions he was sent on. Zack kept his childhood past from the conversation however. He did not want to relive those memories at this time. After Rex finished another bottle of scotch they decided to call it a night. Rex took to his bed and Zack to his bedroll.

Zack awoke first, it was early morning. The sleep had been refreshing and dreamless. Zack shook Rex a bit to wake him up. He seemed to be quite hung-over and took some time to come around. Rex tried to stand up, but staggered, and Zack helped him sit back down.

“No need to get up, just got to you let you know that I’m heading out. Thank you for the food, music, and shelter.”

“Ah, wasn’t anything. Thanks for the company. There is a small hand pump on the side of this garage. The water is a little irradiated, but it won’t make you sick. I put some food by your pack before I went to sleep, don’t worry none, I can spare it. This might sound a little cliche, but good luck in New Vegas Zack.”

“Thanks, perhaps I’ll come back this way if I return, and let you know how things played out.” He responded smiley slightly.

“Alright sounds good, now let an old man sleep this off. You can get out through the store in the front.” He lay back down on his bed and closed his eyes.

Zack got his belongings together. Near his pack he found three ears of corn, two cans of pork n’ beans, and a few strawberries. He smiled and packed the corn and cans in his with his other food. He placed his pack and canteen on, and made his way out of the building. He ate the delicious strawberries as he left, knowing they would not survive long in the aridness of the wastes. They tasted as good as last night. Outside, the sun was not up yet, the stars still glittering above him. Zack made his way to the water pump. He pumped it a few times and let some water pass through to clear any dirt out, and then he filled his water bladder and canteen. He then made his way to the road that led east out of the rest stop.

Zack had been trekking for what he though must have been five or six miles. The sun had risen before him a few hours ago, and the sky was cloudless. He had brought his goggles to his eyes, and wrapped his head up as well. Zack was starting to notice the road was becoming harder to follow. It was covered with an abundance of dirt which only small packets of asphalt could be seen checkered through it. He saw lots of debris along the side of the road in the ditch. Mainly just garbage such as cardboard and paper were scattered there, but there were larger items as well, old pre-war toys, some cooking pots, and even a fridge with its door missing. Zack did not understand these cues till later that day.

After walking a bit more, Zack saw that he was coming to the end of the smaller mountain range. He was glad that it was near. He was anxious to continue making his way to New Vegas. Going through that park had cost him many miles of travel, and time wasted. Doing so though however had allowed him to come across Rex Donovan, who offered him more than most would have bothered to. He felt wind rush past him from the south, causing the dirt in front of him to drift like the tide of the ocean. Zack heard movement to his right, and before him a pack of five Jackal Rabbits ran past across the road towards the mountain. Zack readied himself, about to pull his revolver out, but then realized they took no notice of him, as if they were fleeing something. Zack turned to the south, pulled his goggles to his forehead, his stomach tightened and everything clicked.

“Damn! I thought the season was over. It must last longer here.”

A good distance away before Zack, was a huge wall, made up of rolling clouds of dirt, sand, and anything else that it just happened to pick up. The dust storm covered the entire horizon of the south, and was heading straight for him. Realizing he had not passed any form of shelter since he had left Rex’s, he became quickly worried. He looked back to the road, and saw that it disappeared around large rock groupings ahead of him. He thought of trying to tie himself to a boulder, but he knew he could be covered with dirt, and might suffocate. It was his only chance that something beyond those rocks there would be a place he could find refuge in. Knowing that he would be engulfed in the dust storm in a matter of minutes, he lowered his goggles back to his eyes, and he broke into a run.

As he made his way around the rock groupings, the fringes of the dust storm were just starting to surround him. It was not too threatening yet, it just was hard on his vision. Zack quickly looked around in front of him, but could not find anything that would suffice. He kept running trying to follow the path of the road as best as he could, most of it was now completely hidden.

Zack continued to run, his lungs burning as he choked for breath. Just as the main part of the storm enclosed around him, he saw a dark rectangle shape not too far away. He made his way to it, and along the way he could feel dirt and dust forcing its way between the layer of his clothes and skin. As he approached the object, he found that it had been a semi trailer that was turned on its side. Small pebbles started to pelt him from all directions. He quickly went to the rear doors and unlatched the upper door. He pulled it open with his right hand, and put his weight on his left on the lower door, and swung himself over. He cut a few of his fingers in the process on his left hand on some jagged metal that stuck out. The door closed behind him, stealing all the light along with it. Zack lay in the trailer on his back coughing up dust that had breached his head wrap. He lay there for a few minutes relaxing, hearing the wind howl around him and objects bang against the side of the semi trailer like some demonically composed song.

This is one of the best fics I've seen in a long, long while. Since Kings of the Wasteland, at least. I can't wait for the next installment.

Thanks for the praise, I have been enjoying writing it. I'm sure that some dislike the lack of action in every post, but just like real life, you don't do something exciting everyday. I believe someone in the fallout world loves the days they don't have to fight for their lives. I've been trying to keep them coming out a quickly as possible, I know how hard it is to wait for new posts for fan fics you really like. I pretty much have the first three chapters planned out in my mind, but beyond that I will have to brainstorm some.

Take your time and deliver the highest quality you are capable of, and we will respect that more than how fast you get the chapters out.

after reading the first half i must say you have a writer's skill and an interesting protagonist. The parts about the Jackal Rabbits and the story about jack's family and the cult were pretty awesome. I laughed about Mr. Tastee also. thanks, keep up the good work.