This is my first attempt at writing a short story/Fanfic set in the Fallout universe and the first writing I have attempted in around ten years. So please don't be too brutal when you critcize. I would however appreciate feedback and pointers. hope you enjoy.

THE SOUND OF SILENCE

David Culver sat at the desk and picked up the mouthpiece to the small ham radio. "Hello...Hello. My name is David Culver. I am a vault location scout working for Vault-tec. If anyone can hear me, please respond." He sat back and waited for an answer as the radio crackled dumbly back at him.

How long had it been since the bombs had fallen? Four days? A week? Longer? David didn't know anymore. He scratched his chin as he waited for a response, his fingers rasping through the hair that was growing there. He had shaved the morning the bombs fell, hadn't he? Given the growth, he guessed it had been less than a week. But how could he be sure? He had never neglected to shave for more than a day before, so really had no idea how much time it would take to reach its current length.

He tried the radio again, to no avail. Eventually he got up and left the small prefab office, little more than a plasterboard box with a door, and walked to the mouth of the cave. He looked across the miles between at the smoldering remains of Denver, Colorado. The city had been hit by several missiles and was now a smoking ruin.

He had found the natural cave weeks before, and had his office installed there as he explored the cave system and planned the installation of the latest vault. Culver had always preferred to be alone as he worked, but always on site too, it helped him to visualize as he designed. This vault was to be his finest achievement. It would have been fantastic.

The caves sprawled for miles under the mountains and if they were able to tap the natural hot springs running deep underground, this had the potential to be one of the most luxurious vaults ever constructed. The huge natural caverns would provide space for huge auditoriums, exercise areas and dormitories, Culver had even toyed with the idea of a theatre.

Of course none of that would ever happen now, David reflected. The human race had finally killed itself; he just hoped that enough people had made it into the vaults that already existed. They were the key to the future now; it would be up to them to rebuild the world. Of course David had heard the rumors that the vaults were really to be used to experiment on people, but that was just insane. The vaults were the best shot humanity had if the bombs ever fell; nobody was crazy or stupid enough to jeopardize that. Were they?

David ran his dark brown eyes over the horizon once more, nothing moved, not even a bird in the dirty sky. The mushroom clouds that had hung above the city appeared to have dispersed over the last few days, but the dust they were made from seemed to have spread, covering everything Culver could see in a brownish/grey film of dust. The dust would be extremely radioactive, Culver thought, once again wishing he had bought a Geiger counter with him. It was too late for such reflections though. He had no supplies that would be useful outside the caves.

David sighed and returned to his office.

He reached under his' desk and pulled the cool-box under there forward. He flipped the lid off and plunged his hand into the shadows within. After he had pulled out a full bottle of water he shoved his arm back into the box and began frantically rummaging around inside.

The full bottle couldn't be the last one, could it? Of course it couldn't, David had bought plenty of water with him, a dozen bottles. He had bought them the last time he had visited the town.
The last time he had visited the town. How long ago had that been? To distract himself from his thoughts David reached over and picked up the radios' mouthpiece again.

"Hello...Hello. My name is David Culver. I am a vault location scout working for Vault-tec. If anyone can hear me, please respond." Culver twisted the cap from his' water and sat back, listening to the reply that didn't come.

Very nice. Got a couple grammatical errors.. I recommend a re-read and you'll see them. I'm thinking of a ghoul, Cast Away.... Did he bring a ball or cactus, or roach?

I like it, its a good start for a first. One thing that'll help you is a cool title, that'l get people interested in reading more, then always at least try to start off your intros with P.U.N.C.H.

Personal - Connect with your readers on an intimate level.
Unexpected - So something crazy! This being post world destruction, you have a lot of room here.
Novel - Incorporate something new and never done before, or at leas not to anyone's immediate memory.
Challenge - Be it intellectually or morally, challenge the reader.
Humor - If you could incorporate a good chuckle in your story the lads who read it are sure to remember.

I got that from a website, but I did render it from presentations to fanfics for you :hubbahubba: :wink_smile:

I like the premise - stories set right after the bombs fell have their own uniqueness - but I'll need more meat to chew on to give you any real advice.

I do agree with TheRealWolfMan though - try feeding this into MS Word so you won't have spelling errors.

Ok I have fed it to MS word and have edited my first post to what word gave back. Any problems now are due to my poor writing.

Great primer. I like it.

Actually, this is pretty good. I have read a lot of fanfics on my time here and this one has potential to be something unique and fun to read and I want to see where you take this. I wasn't here before you fed into MS word and it looks pretty good to me now. It's a short intro so I've got nothing much yet, but I would like to see where this goes.

Good setup.

There isn't much to go on yet but I really like the premise. Based on the comments i'm reading it sounds like something that hasn't been touched on much in the past, so kudos for also trying something a bit different. I'm looking forward to seeing how it progresses.

Thanks for the feedback so far guys. I'm going to try to tackle this in shorter, bitesize, blocks of writing if I can. I'm usually busy with my kids so I'll be adding to it whenever I get the chance.



Part two.

Culver jerked awake once more and stared at the mouthpiece sitting on the desk. Had someone just spoken? Could it have been a human voice, or was it just static? Worse still, could it have been David’s imagination? He lunged across the desk and snatched up the small piece of black plastic and depressed the button on the side, holding it to his mouth.
“Hello....Hello, please repeat. I am here, I missed you just then. If you are there then please repeat.”
David sat back anxiously staring at the speaker, willing a voice to come forth. Once again the only sound he could hear was the steady hiss of static. He put his face in his hands and ran his fingers through his increasingly greasy hair.

He picked up his last half bottle of water and took a small sip. How much longer would this bottle last? How long had it lasted already? He was sure it had been a while since he had opened it, but there was no way he could be sure. He hadn’t ventured as far as the mouth of the cave again; the better to avoid the radiation, so he had no idea when it was day or night, or how many days had passed since he had last gone that far. He had a small clock mounted in his office, the hands still rotating meaninglessly round the face. He had a small battery operated lantern for exploring the caves, but this sat lifeless on the desk to David’s right. In order to save the batteries Culver had instead opted to sit in the dark with only the radio for company.

The only light in the small room came from the dial on the front of the radio, the one that told David what bandwidth he was currently using. He had spent the first few days winding the dial from one end to the other and back again pausing every few seconds to talk into the mouthpiece. After this failed David switched back to the frequency he had used to contact his people in the city. He had no illusions that he would contact his boss, or that he would contact Mary, the fetching young blonde that had been so keen to help, bringing Culver supplies whenever he needed them. His reasoning was that if others were likewise trawling through frequencies then if he sat on just the one, eventually they were bound to make contact. Of course this hadn’t worked so far, but Culver had been sure it was only a matter of time. Of course time was one thing he was rapidly running out of.

David wracked his brain, he had definitely heard something. It must have been the radio. He had explored the caves extensively and found nothing there. He seriously doubted that he was hearing survivors entering the caves; in fact he doubted there even were survivors who could make the journey. Denver had been pulverised, demolished even. Nobody could survive that blasted ruin and approach his position. As far as David Culver was concerned the entire world had been reduced to him and his radio.

He picked up the small service revolver from his briefcase and looked at it in the near darkness. He turned it over in his hands, feeling the reassuring weight of it. He’d hated the thing at first; Mary had insisted he keep it though. “You never know when you’ll run into a bear or something Mr Culver, and if anything happens to you then I’m out of a job.” She had pouted at him. He’d told himself he’d kept it to humour her. But now he was here, with only himself for company he admitted that it had been a half hearted attempt to get in her panties. He imagined it now, him the big game hunter standing over the corpse of a bear the next time she came out to drop supplies. Her falling into his arms. Culver chuckled dryly to himself. There was no chance of any of that now.

But still, he turned the pistol over again, watching what light there was catching the angles of the gun, it could still serve a purpose. David Culver wasn’t going to die of dehydration.

In order to break this train of thought Culver picked up the mouthpiece and recited the words that were becoming his own personal mantra. “Hello...Hello, My name is David Culver. I am a vault location scout working for vault-tec. If you can hear my voice please respond.”

Very good, enjoyed the second chapter.

I liked the second chapter. More than the first even. I'm excited to see some exterior dialogue, and even more excited to see some cool action. Either way, I'm hooked.

Thanks guys. I'll try not to disapoint.


Part Three

“Hello…Hello,” Culver sobbed into the small, black plastic mouthpiece “My name is David Culver…..Please….Please respond. I have run out of water…I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on for.” He sat at his desk, his upper body sprawled across its once polished surface. His face lay against the desktop, the wood squashing his left cheek flat and contorting his features into a strange caricature. Inches from his face, directly in front of his eyes sat an empty bottle, his last bottle. Beside that sat the pistol. David wept as he looked at them.

He was going to do it. He had decided, he was going to end his own life. David had thought long and hard about this decision, he had thought of little else since drinking the last of his water. He was surprised at just how much starvation and lonely isolation could focus the mind. He would try the radio one last time. If he had no success then he would use the pistol.

He was still sobbing as he reached out for the mouthpiece once more. Stop crying, He thought to himself, you’re wasting water. “Can’t afford to lose water now David.” He said to himself in a stern, admonishing tone. “Can’t drink the tears to put the water back either, too much salt in the water that way. It’d drive you crazy.”

He depressed the button and held the small piece of plastic to his lips again. “Hello…Hello. My name is David Culver. I am a vault location scout working for vault-tec. If you can hear my voice then please…Please respond. My water supply has run out. Respond.” David’s voice was getting steadily louder as he spoke into the mouthpiece. “Respond or I am going to kill myself. I mean it.” He snatched up the pistol and waved it in front of the radio’s dial. “See, you see that? I’ve got a gun. I’ll use it too. Respond. Respond.” He bellowed the last word.

The radio simply sat there, static hissing impassively through the speaker. No answer was coming. No voice was going to speak. David culver was all alone. He picked up the pistol and placed the muzzle against his temple.

Are you sure? A voice within Culver’s head asked. “Of course I’m sure.” David cried back. “I’m going to die anyway. I’m out of water. What’s the alternative? Die of thirst? Stomach cramps, nausea, hallucinations? [Censored] that.” Ok pal. Your’ funeral. But you’re missing something. The voice sounded smug as it said this. “What?” Culver pleaded “What am I missing? Please tell me.” He shrieked at the darkness. Listen.

Culver listened, willing his ears to hear whatever it was the voice wanted him to hear. There was no sound other than the familiar static hiss of the radio. “There’s nothing there,” he wailed, “Just the radio and me, nothing else.” Well if you’re sure of that then you had better get on with it.

Culver took the pistol away from his temple and shoved the barrel into his mouth. He took a final look at the radio and began to squeeze the trigger. He paused. The voice had been right; there was another sound, another hissing. Where was it coming from? He pulled the pistol out of his mouth and looked frantically around the office. There was nothing in there that could possibly be making that noise. The door.

David reached across his office and pulled the door open a few inches. The hissing sound became a dull roaring. Alongside this David could hear a constant pattering, as if hundreds of mice were scampering past. It took Culver a few seconds to place the sound. It was rain.

Culver snatched up his lantern and snapped it on. He stumbled through the door holding the small light aloft. The ring of illumination was smaller than it had been the last time he had switched it on. The batteries were failing. The lantern did however provide enough light for Culver to see the dark trail the rain water had left as it flowed past his office.

David fell to his knees, laughing hysterically. He had been right; David Culver was not going to die of dehydration. Providing he could gather up some of the water. He got back to his feet again and stumbled deeper into the cave, following the flow of water. Eventually he came to a large pothole in the ground. The water had flowed into it, filling it up. David hurled himself to the floor and thrust his head into the hole, drinking deeply. He came up spluttering and gasping for air, and then thrust his head in once more. The water had an odd, almost metallic taste and Culver’s mouth filled with grit and dirt from the cave floor. The water also seemed to make the inside of David’s mouth tingle. At that moment however, Culver didn’t care, this was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

“The radio.” David spluttered, pulling his head from the water. What if someone had tried to contact him while his head was submerged? He leaped to his feet and dashed back to his office. He kicked the lid off of his cool box and using his left arm he scooped the empty bottles inside. As he did this he plucked the mouthpiece from the desk with his right arm. He held it to his mouth and recited, “Hello…Hello. My name is David Culver. I am a vault location scout working for vault-tec. If you can hear my voice, please respond.”

I knew those springs were going to have a role to play. That tingle... Is that radiation?

"And in the naked light I saw,
Ten thousand people maybe more,
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listing. . .
***
Within the sound. . .of silence. . . ."

No?

First fan-fic, really? Nice work Kettle.

I'd suggest putting internal thoughts in their own separate paragraph. Easier on the eyes. Maybe just my own choice of style?

My guess would be that that water is full of rads. I cringe to think of what its effects may soon be on David.

I'm liking this journey. Makes a me a bit sad though. . .

Sentient, you are correct sir, the title is a Simon & Garfunkle reference. It's such a sad sounding song, I thought it suited the mood of the story quite well.

Yeah this is genuinely my first fanfic mate, I got the urge to do it after reading some of the work on here. So you, therealwolfman, wasteland scholar 4, Anti1v3 and all you other guys are to blame for this.

I'll try putting internal thought seperate, I hadn't thought about that.

I'm sorry, yet also pleased that the story is making you a bit sad Sentient. Sorry for making you sad, yet pleased as I intended it to be a sad story.

And to answer both of you. It wouldn't be fallout if the water was clean. I'll get part four up soon.

And please people feel free to leave more feedback, all criticisms and pointers are welcome.

I also say it wouldn't be Fallout if it weren't a sad story...

I like the setting, the premise, all of this so far. Original, and despite your insistence, it is well written.

I find it interesting indeed. I like the setting in which you develop your character, all alone and against his own wits. The action can wait. :tongue:

Keep it up, the only thing I could see wrong was when old David "depressed" the button. I can see this meaning he gave the button a depression, making it go inward, but thats not what comes to mind reading it as one goes. Also, a depression is more of an imprint anyway. Excited to see what happens next, and take your time before you leave that cave, I know I would.

Oh, and thank you for reading my work there Kettle, I'm glad someone appreciates it.

EDIT: Oops, I called you Sentinent.

Part Four

Culver dropped the mouthpiece onto the desk, the black plastic rattling noisily against the wood. Once again he had had no success contacting anyone. He picked up the nearest bottle and took a deep gulp. How many days had it been since the rain? Culver didn’t remember. He picked the mouthpiece up once more, only to have it slip through his fingers and fall back to the surface of the desk. He was so tired. He had slept for hours, or what had felt like hours. But this had done nothing to combat the fatigue. David knew that he should probably keep trying with the radio, but at the moment he just wanted to sleep again. He laid his head on his arms and closed his eyes.

He awoke again several hours later. The tiredness had not abated in the slightest and to make matters worse his muscles and joints had begun to ache awfully. He felt feebly week, it hurt him greatly to even lift his head from the desk. But an insistent, nagging pain from Culver’s bowels was telling him that he would have to move a good deal more than just his head, and soon. He began pulling drawers open at random and plunging his hands inside, rummaging through the assorted detritus of his work. Eventually his hand closed around a thick bundle. He snatched the pack of printer paper from the drawer and held it triumphantly above his head. The sudden movement sent a white hot lance of pain through David’s shoulder, causing him to cry out and drop the heavy bundle onto his upturned face. His nose exploded in a bright flare of agony. Culver clutched at his wounded face, his fingers came away bloody. Sobbing through the pain, David slumped in his chair. He reached down to the floor, his fingers gingerly probing until he found the paper again. He pulled a few sheets from the pack and staggered through the door. He stumbled deeper into the cave, heading for the chamber where he relieved himself.

A short while later he was squatting in the darkness, his pants around his ankles and his back propped against the wall. The lantern still sat atop the desk back in the office. David had decided to leave it there. He was beginning to get to know the layout of the caves around his office, even in the dark and he could easily identify the chamber he used for this particular ritual, simply by smell. As he squatted there David leaned his head back against the wall. He was too tired to keep his head up. Relief flowed through his body as the pain in his neck abated slightly. Now if only he could do the same for his legs. Those limbs were currently throbbing with pain and violently shaking with the effort of keeping himself upright.

In an attempt to distract himself from the pain David tried to concentrate on the sounds of the cave around him. The first sound that Culver identified was the familiar, reassuring hiss of the radio, rasping away quietly to itself in the office. Beyond that David could hear the whistling howl of the wind as it cut across the mouth of the cave. Beneath both sounds, barely audible from his current position was the low bass rumble of the hot spring flowing deep beneath him. Grating across all of these noises was the harsh rasping sound of David’s own breathing, his chest was beginning to hurt too. “Just my luck,” David said aloud to himself, then took another gulp of water “I survive the end of the world, only to catch the flu.”

After he had finished Culver began the short walk back to the office, the paper he hadn’t used rolled up in his hand. As he approached the small plasterboard structure David noticed another noise. Not one of the now familiar sounds of the cave, Culver didn’t recognize this noise. It was a repetitive, scrabbling, tapping sound. It sounded like footsteps. Could it be a rescue team? Was it possible? Could someone have heard his calls on the radio? “Hello,” Culver yelled into the darkness “I’m down here. If you can see my office then wait for me there. I’ll be there in a moment.” Culver listened, scratching at his cheek as he waited for a response. In addition to the constant aches, David’s whole body had begun to itch furiously. Culver strained his ears, willing someone to speak back to him, but no sound was forthcoming. Even the tapping had stopped. David was just beginning to believe he had imagined the sound when the low growl reached his ears. Blind, animal panic seized David Culver. That sound had come from no human throat.

David edged closer to his office, moving as quietly as he could. As he approached the door he was sure he could hear several, repetitive sharp intakes of breath. It sounded like something was sniffing, out there in the darkness. Culver reached the door and quietly eased it open. He quickly stepped inside and closed the door behind him. He slowly sank to the floor, pinning the door closed with his back. The scrabbling sound resumed outside, louder and more rapid now. Suddenly a loud impact rocked the door in its frame. The door opened a couple of inches, the force pushing Culver across the floor. David screamed as he lunged for the desk, snatching up the pistol and the lantern. He pointed the gun at the door, aiming chest high as he frantically searched the lamp for the on switch. He found the button and pressed it. The room lit up, revealing a large Rottweiler padding its way into the room.

The creature looked extremely malnourished, its flesh hung loose around its face and body and its fur had fallen away in places. The fur on the dog’s back bristled and the beast held its head low, the deep growl once more coming from its throat. David tried to bring the pistol down to fire at the dog but he was too slow. The beast surged into the room and seized Culver by the wrist, sending the lantern tumbling across the floor. The dog jerked its head to the side, sending another jolt of pain through David’s arm and pulling him to the floor. He sobbed in agony as he desperately tried to bring the pistol to bear. The dog was thrashing about too much and Culver’s first shot went wide. David screamed and pushed the revolver under the dog’s chin, he squeezed the trigger. The terrible pressure on David’s wrist increased for a second, then was gone. The corpse tumbled to the floor next to Culver. For a short while David lay on the ground sobbing in pain, clutching his bloody wrist to his chest. How had the dog gotten there in the first place? Was it alone? Culver supposed it didn’t matter. The dog was dead and David wasn’t, not yet at least.

David rolled his sleeve back down once he had finished bandaging his wrist, the area was heavily bruised but luckily the dogs teeth hadn’t punctured too deep and it didn’t feel like anything was broken. It was odd, but while he was applying the dressing, David had discovered a red, sunburn like rash spreading up his arm. He didn’t think about it much though. He looked at the dog lying motionless on the floor. He now had meat, if he could find some way to cook it. But first things first. He leaned across the desk and picked up the mouthpiece “Hello…Hello. My name is David Culver. I am a vault location scout working for vault-tec. If you can hear my voice, please respond.”

Another thought would be to put the internal thoughts in italics, course since no one else is talking to him it really doesn't effect it that much but I would like to think it makes it easier to distinguish from the rest of the paragraph. At any rate Kettle, you have my humble thumbs up with the marvelous tale. This story is more unique than the other stories at the moment, and is quite suspenseful. It's hard to keep peoples focus when your focusing on one person in one location, I applaud you for doing such a great job at it...

...Keep it up

P.S. The Sound of Silence is one of my all time favorite songs, I like Atrocity's cover better personally. Fitting for the story though, I now play that as I read.

To me it seems animalistic is better, animal made me think he had morphed, and that mixed with blind led me to belive something had actually happened to his eyes.



The first thing one thinks is someone literally skidding across the floor. I don't think Rottweiler's do that, especially malnourished ones. I'd know, I had one and my neighbor did as well. Maybe just 'sending me to the floor' would suffice. I don't know, it just didn't read right in my mind.



I didn't know a dog was capable of doing that, or just that I mean. :thumbsup:

Keep it up, I implore you.

I'm curious to see where this goes, I'm imagining him spending years down there, decades or century if he's undergoing ghoulification. If he does make contact with another human being. I imagine there will be a lot of crying.


Yeah but that can be a royal pain on a web forum. If your writing it a word document program you can't just copy paste and keep stuff like italics and bold.

I had already said Culver was on the floor, sitting with his back against the door. I only meant it pushed him forward a short way. Culver would be malnourished himself by this point and is starting to suffer radiation poisening. Sorry if this wasn't clear.



It was supposed to be a combination of luck and the dog being weakened by starvation/radiation. I will keep it up mate, but it is new years eve, so the next part may take a day or so (depending on my hangover in the morning).

@Yttrium.. I had never heard Atrocity's version of the song mate, I just listened to it on youtube :thumbsup: :tops:

And @ Lord Vukodlak. Yeah Culver does seem to spend a lot of his time crying doesn't he.

Another great installment, thank you for sharing it! I have an image of the dog's severed head becoming a friend for David, that he calls it "Bucky" or something, haha...poor David. The only other living thing he encounters in weeks and it's a feral dog trying to kill him.

Edit:
P.S. I am jealous at your potential hangover, haha.

Very nice, I was kind of hoping he wouldn't get th dog, but with the dog being feral it must he done. I look forward to this version of Cast Away, of Robert Crusoe.

Hangover never happened it the end. Here's the next part guys. Hope you enjoy.

Edit: Thanks a lot for all the positive feedback guys. Yttrium I'm particularly pleased that so far this has lived up to your high standards mate.
Ant I have edited the first and last mistake you pointed out, cheers.

Part Five

David had finished searching his office again, he had meat. David couldn’t recall the last time he had tasted meat. He wasn’t even sure when he had last eaten. It had been chocolate, he was certain of that. He had found it nestled in the rear corner of the desk’s bottom drawer. It had been in a red wrapper with a goofy picture on it. David couldn’t recall the name of the candy bar, it had tasted like heaven. But now, now David had meat.

Culver realized he would have to find some way to cook the dog before he could eat it. He stood in his office looking down at the items his search had unearthed. He had lined them up on the surface of the desk. He needed to try to butcher the dog’s carcass before he cooked it and these few pitiful supplies were to be his tools. A cheap lighter, a clipboard, the stack of paper, a small letter opener and the desk itself. All the other items, his pens, stapler and other office flotsam had been scooped into a drawer and kicked into a corner. Culvers plan was to drag the desk out into the cave and use some of the paper as kindling. The clipboard would serve as a fan for the flames. David hoped this would work. He had almost no survival experience outside the cave. He had never even cooked at a barbeque. Before he thought about the fire though, David had to butcher the animal.

Culver switched the lantern on once again and placed it on the desk. He picked up the short stainless steel letter opener and held it up before his face, looking at the blunt blade. He then turned to look at the corpse. The blade was woefully inadequate for the job. When the dog had been healthy it would have been huge, even in it's malnourished state David doubted he could carve the mutt with a damn letter opener. Culver sank to his knees and plunged the four inch sliver of metal into the body. He began slowly sawing the blade back and forth. After what felt like hours Culver had managed to open a large gash across the dog’s belly, its entrails spilling on to the ground beside it.

David had moved away from the carcass. He sat in his chair clutching his head, it ached terribly. He was panting in exhaustion as he sat there. Just opening the beast up had left him feeling drained. He ached all over, but he had decided that the itching was worse. He scratched his cheek, wincing in pain as his nail caught a weeping sore that had opened there. More and more of these had appeared over David’s body. It was hell. Every time he scratched himself it seemed he would poke or claw one of them. He would flinch at the sharp pain from the skin. The sudden movement would cause David’s body to erupt in a fresh wave of pain from his aching joints and muscles.

He wasn’t going to be able to completely butcher the carcass. If he continued hacking at the corpse with the pathetic blade, he would leave himself too exhausted to complete the task. He walked over to the desk and took a deep breath, steadying himself. He picked up the mouthpiece again. “Hello… Hello. My name is David Culver. I am a vault location scout working for vault-tec. If you can hear my voice, please respond.” He paused for a few seconds, waiting for a reply. When no answer came he held the plastic to his lips again. “Look… I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to unplug you for a while. Please… Please don’t go away. I’m sorry.” He reached under the desk and disconnected the energy cell powering the radio. The small room was instantly oppressively quiet. Culver picked the radio from the surface of the desk, cradling it in his arms like a child. He carried it across the room and gently placed it on the chair. David was beginning to panic. The silence was deafening. He quickly retrieved the cell from under the desk and plugged it in again. An angry buzzing shriek of static burst forth from the speaker. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” Culver said, fumbling the handset to his lips “I had to move you. I need to move the desk, so I had to move you first. Please… Please stop making that noise.” The usual soothing static hiss resumed.

Culver dragged the dog’s corpse out of the office into the darkness of the cave. He retrieved the lantern from the small room and crouched over the beast. He plunged his hands into the gaping wound and began pulling out the creatures organs. Several times during this grim task David turned away and noisily vomited until he was hunched over dry heaving and sobbing as he retched onto the floor. Every heave of his stomach was agony. Luckily he still had plenty of water. When he judged he had sufficiently hollowed the animal David pulled himself to his feet and stumbled back into the office. He gripped the desk, one of those cheap, flat-packed numbers, and pulled. His back and shoulders flared in fresh agony, but the desk slid forward a few inches. David threw his head back and, despite the sudden jolt of pain, crowed in triumph. He grabbed the desk and pulled again.

After quite some time Culver had managed to manhandle the desk out into the cave. With a tremendous effort Culver had lifted the carcass of the dog onto the table. He fell to the floor and fumbled the lighter from his pocket. After a few worrying attempts, David managed to coax a small flame. He lit several pieces of paper and shoved them under the cheap wooden legs. He then held the small flame under the tabletop. As the table began to ignite David plucked the clipboard from the floor and began wafting air towards it, trying to feed the flames. After a while the fire caught and the table erupted in flames. The cave filled with thick, black, billowing smoke. David fled back into the office His eyes were streaming as the fumes irritated them; he was choking and spluttering as he tried to escape the black cloud. He shoved the door closed and fell to the floor, trying to block the bottom of the door with his body in an attempt to keep the smoke out. He picked up a bottle and placed it to his lips. He coughed as he drank and started to choke on the water. Hey lay on the floor, writhing in pain, trying to clear the water from his lungs. Each wracking cough sent a fresh wave of agony through David’s body.

After what seemed like an eternity David was able to breathe again. How long had he been laying there? Had someone spoken while he was gasping for air on the ground? Had he passed out? He crawled over to the radio and picked up the mouthpiece. “Hello… Hello.” He rasped into it, his voice a smoke ravaged growl “My name is David Culver. I am a vault location scout working for vault-tec. If you can hear my voice, please respond.” Once more there was no response. David got to his feet and shuffled back out into the cave. The desk had burned itself out, but the remains were still smoldering. Lying in the middle of it all was the charred remains of the dog. Smoke was still curling from the blackened husk. Culver fell on the corpse and began tearing at the flesh with his hands, burning his fingers. He shoved the meat into his mouth and chewed, crunching through the charred skin and biting into the soft barely cooked flesh beneath. David ate until he was full then lay down in the dark cave. He ached badly again, he was so tired from the exertion. David Culver put his head on his arm and fell asleep on the cave floor.