But you can't take the New Reno out of a man. The same thought played over and over in Garrett's head. He walked down the derelict highway, kicking a bent tin can as he went. He was in a spot of bother, or at least he was and soon would be again. Back in New Reno, Garrett was a bit of a gambler, and as most gamblers do, built up a bit of debt. Unfortunately, he didn't have the cash to pay back his debt and when you owe money to the Mordinos, you don't get second chances. So after a couple of gunshots, a whole lot of sneaking, running and walking, Garrett found himself in the D.C. Wasteland. He'd heard a fair amount about D.C. from his old friends back in the club. Apparently, the city was untouched by the bombs. Apparently, it was a good community. Apparently, it was Heaven in the Wasteland. [censored]. Those tales were nothing but Jet fueled lies and to continue Garrett's poor luck, he believed them.

He was a fair way off from the city, yet he already knew about the tall tales. Even from such a distance, the destruction could be seen; Most of the buildings were still standing, if only just. The place looked like a Hell hole, worse than New Reno in appearance. But Garrett didn't let this deter him, he kept on walking towards the ruins, hoping that behind the poor exterior lay a thriving metropolis with all the booze, women and money he could possibly want. Garrett took hold of his canteen, taking a controlled chug of what little water was inside "Damnit. Almost out of water." He shook it a bit before putting the top back on. He gazed over the side, looking down at the dirty water that was flowing in the river. It looked nothing like the water in New Reno. While Reno's water wasn't exactly the best, it look as if it'd been purified several times compared to that crap.

Running his hand through the greasy mess of hair that made its home on his head, Garrett bit his lip and looked around, searching for a settlement or something that could provide decent water. "The hell is that?" In the distance, he spied what appeared to be a town, but it looked pretty screwed up, as if it was made out of what seemed to be bits of pre-war aircraft. Strange. He stopped walking and not a moment too soon. While he was busy scoping out the town, he'd reached the end of unfinished highway. "Woah!" He called out, his front foot half hanging off the crumbled highway. "Looks like my luck is on the--" The road underneath him gave way, the years of punishment had finally taken their toll. "[censored]!" He fell through, cutting himself on the jagged remains on the road. He slid down the fallen underpass, slipping all the way down to the floor. He landed in a pile of stone and water, shrouded by the dust kicked up by the fall.

"Damn, my head." He got up from the ground, wiping his black leather jacket inorder to get the dust and tiny bits of road off. He coughed, stumbling from the incident, contiuning on his way to Megaton...

===

Just a little taster of my new FanFic. Probably not the best prolouge, but I wanted to get something down on the forum to kick start it. So, enjoy.

Yes, fanfix about New Reno to Megaton are cool. This one is no exception :tops:

They are, Goris? :S

===

Chapter One
Mercs in Megaton

"Welcome to Megaton. Enjoy your stay." Garrett looked to the robot as it spoke, smirking slightly. "Megaton huh? Wonder why it's--" As the main gates opened, he looked straight down to the center of town and got his answer; A nuke sitting right in the middle of the damn town. "Who'd be stupid enough to build a town...Around a bomb?!" He thought, shaking his head slightly.

"The bomb's perfectly safe." The voice was deep and raspy, and, suprisingly familiar to Garrett. It was the voice of Lucas Simms, who was just heading up to check out the newcomer. "Well I'll be damned, its Garrett Neilson.

"Oh, uh, hey there Lucas. You're looking good." Garrett shifted uneasily, moving back away from Simms eyeing the rifle on his back.

"Where'd you think you're going, Neilson? Me and you've got some talking to do, don't you think?" Lucas chuckled a bit, before forcing a serious face. "Listen here, you little punk. You either come with me nice and easy, or I put a bullet in each of your legs and drag you home." Garrett knew Simms was serious, he was always serious. So rather than risking permanent damage to both his legs, he went along with the Sheriff to his house...If you could call it a house. It was made from scrap metal worse than that which formed the city. Bits of corrigated steel stuck out from the sides of the pathetic little shack, Garrett scoffed, but a look from Simms shut him up real quick.

The inside wasn't much better. Everything looked scavenged, everything. Nothing like his place back in New Reno. Now that looked like a real house, until he had to sell practically everything inside of it to keep his family jewels. "Sit down." Simms pulled a chair out from the table with his foot and pointed to it, frowning. "Harden! Go play with Maggie." This was obviously going to be a private conversation, and Garrett was certain it was going to involve an awful lot of swearing. The small child ran down the stairs and left the door, just as Simms took a seat. "Alright then. Let's discuss why the hell you betrayed me in Reno shall we?"

"Woah, woah, woah. Betrayed? What do you mean? I slipped was all." Garrett gave a bit of a gulp, he was terrible at lying and Simms new it. He licked his lips a bit, "Can I get a glass of water or something?" Simms reply was a punch in the jaw, not quite what he was after.

"Now you listen here, I know what you did, so cut the [censored]. Bishop told me all about your little deal with him." Neilson gripped the collar of his leather jacket, pulling it off to the side as he felt the heat in the room suddenly jump up. "Yeah, you better feel awkward. Lead me out to Golgotha, push me into a DAMN GRAVE!" Simms punched the table, the memory clearly annoying him to a large degree. "And what for? To pay off YOUR debt. I had a good thing going with the Mordinos, pushing Jet for them." Garrett cleared his dry throat before speaking.

"So...How'd you survive?" He gave a weak smile, trying to sound sympathetic towards him. He unstrapped his leather jacket, revealing the dirty white t-shirt that lay underneath. "And how did Bishop tell you, he wanted you dead." Lucas shot me a look, then began to laugh a little. He stood up, walking over to the fridge located in an alcove behind him. He pulled the door open, taking out a bottle of what appeared to be clean water, then sat back down.

"Bishop didn't WANT me dead, but the opportunity to have me killed to clear a debt of 100 chips was too good to pass up. I still don't believe you sold me for 100 chips, you bastard." Lucas undid the lid on the water, taking a nice, long drink from it before putting it on the table. He watched Garrett's eyes follow the bottle and couldn't help but smirk. "Bishop'd heard a few good things about me, decided I was better alive than dead. So he sent one of his boys to let me out." The Sheriff slowly raised his legs, placing them onto the table. "So where'd you go Garrett?"

"I didn't actually leave New Reno..." His hand slowly crept towards the bottle of water slowly, but its progress was halted by a swift crushing by Lucas' heel. "Ah crap...I uh, just moved north, closer to the Mordino's casino, you know, the Desperado? Yeah, I started gambling there, got a nice pad across the road from it." When Lucas moved his foot, Garrett withdrew his hand, gripping at it in pain.

Before Simms could ask any more of Garrett, the radio on the table started going crazy. Lucas shot his 'companion' a glare once more, making his way over to the radio. He picked up the reciever, placing it to his ear. It was Stockholm. His breath was bated and heavy as he spoke, "We've got Talons Sheriff! They took out Weld and got me in the leg...I ain't gonna survive. They said somethin` about 'Garrett' too..." The sound of gun fire seemed to be the only sound now coming through the reciever, followed by static.

"Oh...Crap." Garrett looked at Simms, he didn't look any happier. He looked worse. Instantly, Neilson made a break from the door, but he was set upon by Lucas who tackled him to the floor. He rolled Garrett onto his back, ramming his fist into the fallen man's face. His nose broke under the force of Simms' punch and bled heavily. He left Garrett lying on the floor, clutching his nose. "You broke my [censored] nose!" Simms ignored him, locking the door.

"P-Please, don't...Don't shoot us! The Sheriff took a man with a leather jacket into his house an--" The man's voice outside was dwarfed by the fire of an assault rifle. The Talon Mercs were heading towards the Sheriff's house. Simms swore to himself, taking the Chinese made assault rifle from his back and backing up the stairs. He crouched by the door to his room, using the wall to give him some partial cover.

"Garrett," He hissed in a quiet voice. "Get up here and in the other room. There's a hunting rifle and some .32 rounds in there." He didn't need telling twice and rushed up the stairs, ignoring the pain being created in his face. He opened the door, searching the room for the rifle. There it was, along with a tin of ammo, on the shelf. He quickly took it up, loading the weapon and taking aim at the door.

The mercenary outside tried the door, but it was locked. Rather than knocking politely, he blew the lock off with his assault rifle, then kicked the door opened. He was met with an equally friendly greeting; A .32 caliber round to the neck, just above his combat armour. The bullet took him down, forcing him to grip his now blood sodden neck as he wriggled on the floor. Simms then had a brainwave, remembering the hatch to the roof. "Garrett! Infront of you, on the ceiling is a hatch to the roof. Open it and go!" Simms pulled a grenade from his belt, ripping the pin out with his teeth and hurled it at the door to cover them. The Mercenaries back up, all three of them avoiding the blast.

Garrett rushed forwards, pushing the hatch open. With a boost from Simms, he clambered out onto the roof. Lucas held his hand up, calling for Garrett to pull him up. "You think I'm going to help you? Fat chance, haha." He slammed the hatch shut, a foul grin on his face as looked down on Simms. The curses of the Sheriff were muffled out by the metal and gunfire. He was dead. "Now to get the hell out of here." The mercs were fast though. Two of them had come round the side of the building, cutting of Garrett's descent towards the purifier. They took a few potshots at the roof, warning Garrett off from there. He turned, narrowly escaping the hail of bullets. He ascended a few flights of steps, getting higher up the house as he did. He took cover behind one of the bannisters, wating for a mercenary to come up.

The sound of heavy boots thudding against the metal steps rang in Garrett's ears. It was only one pair of feet, thankfully, the other two were probably still down there, waiting, just incase Garrett tried to make a run for it. As the Talon Merc made his way to the top of the stairs, Neilson dived on his back, knocking him down onto the floor. They began to roll around, exchanging punches as they went. The merc was tough, kicking Garrett off. He stood up, regaining his balance a little. He looked behind him, noticing they were extremely high now and not much lay between them and a fatal fall. He looked around to see two feet planting themselves on his chest, Garrett's feet to be exact. The mercenary fell backwards off the roof, hurtling down to the floor. His body fell limp on the bomb down below and the sound of shattering bones was audiable even to Garrett.

It turns out he'd dropped his assault rifle, which Garrett took up. He slung the hunting rifle over his back and made his way down one set of stairs, going as silent as he could. "Hey, do'ya think we should go up 'n' get him or wait?" One of the mercs scratched his head, these guys were obviously recruits. They were still after Garrett's life, though, so he aimed over the side of the railing with the assault rifle, unleashing an array of bullets on the rifle one. Many of them were glancing shots, but enough of them tore through his helmet to end his life prematurely. The other one looked up in horror, he dropped his crappy little pistol and raised his hands. "Not today, friend." Garrett laughed, putting a single bullet in his skull.

===

Tell me what you think guys.

You don't see too many references to the original Fallouts anymore, so I applaud you for that. Your spelling is generally good, and while your grammar could use some work, it's still above the level of the average FF.net writer.

So keep up the good work!

Thanks, Ambrose. And without further ado, I bring you...

===

Chapter Two
Aftermath

Garrett let out a sigh as he slid down the roof to the hatch that led to Simms' house. He opened it up and dropped down, crouching to absorb some of the impact. Due to his lack of care, he landed on the now deceased Lucas Simms. "Oh god...That's not nice." He stood up, wiping some of the blood from his half done up leather jacket before rubbing his bearded chin. He snapped his fingers, remembering something his old chum had of his. He walked into his bedroom, looking around for a moment or two. "Got it." He pulled open a draw in his desk and there he found it; Garrett's trusty old .223 pistol and a fair amount of ammo for it. He took hold of the pistol, loading a clip into the stock of the gun before turning on the safety. Garrett stowed the pistol, and the ammo, in his pocket before looting the Mercs and Lucas for a vast amount of 5.56mm. Striding out of the house, he was met with the barrel of a shotgun.

"Don't move a muscle, or I'll blow your head off, 'ight?" The voice wasn't familiar to Garrett so he didn't expect the same hospitality he got from Simms. "Out of the frying pan and into the fire" He thought, complying with the order. "Now, tell me, who the hell are you, why our Sheriff is dead, and why a bunch of angry mercs came in here?" Garrett went to speak, but found himself really quite intimidated by the shotgun in his face.

"If you can just, uh...Lower the shotgun?" He placed his hands on the barrel slowly, pushing it down from his face. The man didn't seem to mind, but rammed the barrel into Neilson's gut, just to remind him it was there. "Umf...Yes, the question." He coughed for a moment, preparing for the lie he was about to drop, "Well, you see. Those mercenaries were after Simms--" The shotgun once again collided with the already tender stomach of Garrett, causing him to double over in pain.

"We heard 'em saying the name 'Garrett' and Lucas Simms don't sound anythin` like Garrett." He was clearly lacking patience which was quite a bad thing for Garrett, because he was testing what little patience he had.

"Ok...Ok," Wheezed Garret as he held his hand up, "I'm Garrett Neilson, they're after me. I dunno why, and they killed the Sheriff. Happy?" He rubbed his tender stomach, backing up a bit from the gun wielding man. "If thats all you want to know...I'll be heading off. Pleasure talking with you." Without another word, Garrett tried to make a dash for it. The combat shotgun rose, the man aimed, the trigger was pulled.

"[censored]!" The shotgun jammed and Garrett was safe. Leaving the man behind (who continued to curse the shotgun), Garrett tore round the corner and out of the gates. On the floor lay what remained of Deputy Weld who was clearly malfunctioning as sparks flew from the severed head whilst it spat out words in the direction of the fugitive.

Even though Megaton was now a fair way behind him, he continued to run until he ran out of breath, which thanks to the amount of cigarettes he'd smoked, didn't take too long. Placing his hands on his knees, he began to pant as he looked back to Megaton. "That...Could of been worse." Now that he regained he breath, he stood up and walked onwards, spying what looked liked an old supermarket in the distance; Old, worn down and shoddy, but a supermarket nonetheless and supermarkets had food and hopefully they'd have water too. Garrett's stomach gave protest, not because of the pain, but due to the hunger he was experiencing. He remember he hadn't eaten in quite some time and the hunger pangs got even worse.

After a few minutes of walking, he arrived at the rear of the "Super-Duper Mart" and walked round the corner. It would of appeared that Garrett wasn't the only one who thought the shop would be a good place to scavenge as two Raiders armed with hunting rifles were sitting outside. Although Garrett didn't know anything about Raiders, he guessed they were bad news; The corpses suspended by chains outside gave him a clue. He quickly lunged into cover behind a columm nearby and hoped they hadn't seen him. "'Ey, Rips, you hear somethin`?" Inquired one of the two Raiders, motioning in Garrett's general position.

"Yeah...Probably a scavenger or a wasteland. Hehe. Looks like we're gettin` a fresh meal tonight." Joked 'Rips', or at least Garrett hoped he was joking. Rips stood up and made his way over to the pillar, whistling to Garrett. "Here wastelander...We won't hurt ya'." The voice was cracked and sounded full of joy, guess they hadn't eaten in a while. Hand on pistol, Garrett moved from his cover and blindly let off a round towards Rips. The bullet nailed him right in the gut, taking him to the floor. He clutched the wound as Garrett hid behind the pillar infront of him waiting for the reaction of the Raider's ally. "[censored] hell, Hannibal. Get ova` 'ere and help me...I'm, uh, bleeding out." The voice of Rips slowly got weaker as the sentence went on until it ended up in an unaudiable wisp.

"Rips? RIPS?!" Hannibal sounded a bit annoyed as he got up, charging at the man who assaulted his comrade. Again, he popped out of cover and let off a round towards Hannibal. This time, however, it was but a glancing blow on the Raider's shoulder and it wasn't enough to put the raging bull down. Understanding how close Hannibal was, Neilson abandonded his cover. A bad choice. The Raider took him to the floor with a diving tackle. "I'm gonna rip your throat out!" Heckled Hannibal as he reached for his knife. The Raider was huge, especially now he was ontop of Garrett. Despite his protests, Garrett was going nowhere.

Bang. The sound of a high-powered rifle cut through the air. The .308 caliber round tore through Hannibal's head causing the Raider to fall limp on Garrett. "Ya` right, wastelanda?!" Garrett pushed the Raider off and stood up, brushing the blood from his body. He then looked up, spying a man in the distance holding a shiny metal rifle.

"Yeah, I'm good," Replied Garrett as the man drew closer to him. "Why'd you help me anyway?" He questioned. One thing Garrett had learnt so far was that people didn't normally do things for nothing and for that very reason, he kept a firm grip on his pistol.

"'Coz I wanna kill you myself!" He screamed, causing Garrett to raise his pistol before the man began laughing. "Nah, I'm only playin` with ya' kid." He flicked an imaginary tear away from his eye as he drew near, but Garrett wasn't sure, keeping his pistol aimed at the man. "What'zat for buddy?" The man tilted his head to the side, giving Garrett and inquizitive stare.

"I can't be too sure you aren't some psycho, can I now?" He looked over the newcomer as he spoke. He was a pretty small guy, short, but well built. His slightly reddened business suit clung to him in contrast to his fedora which sat loosely on his head. He threw his rifle down and looked up, revealing his white beard and half golden smile.

"You can call me Ice, friend. And I 'elped ya' because...Hm. I can't remember, but I did and that's all that matters eh?" He laughed as little, he was insane, but he seemed skilled with that rifle and Garrett didn't want to make anymore enemies today so he lowered his pistol and extended his freehand.

"Garrett. Garrett Neilson. I came from New Reno." Ice took hold of his hand with both of his, shaking it a bit too enthusiastically. "So, are we gonna go inside and get some grub?" Ice didn't say a word, but a grin from under the shadow of his fedora said it all.

===

All constructive criticism is more than welcome.

I like it. Go on to Chapter 3. I want to know what happens with Ice and super duper mart.

This is very well done! Keep it coming, I can't wait to see what happens. I really don't have any criticisms about this so far. Keep it up.

Just read it, and it's a good story. I liked the first part of the last chapter the most
spoiler tags in case any1 is strolling comments before reading

@ Enclave - Will do, maybe a bit later though.
@ Acidus - I'll tell you this, Ice is only gonna get crazier ;D
@ Lav - Well, if a group of Talon Mercs are about to bust the door down, who goes first wouldn't be his first thought, a fatal mistake. And yeah, I meant WastelandER. lol.

Thanks for your inputs guys, its nice to get some feedback. Hugs for all!

now this is a good story, keep it up

I DEMAND that something is released soon!

I wanna see what's gonna happen.

@ outcast slayer - Thanks. I hate you though (for killing outcasts )
@ Acidus - Oh god, I'm sorry it took so long! Don't hurt meh. D:

===

Chapter Three
Clean up on Aisle Four

Ice slid his foot under his rifle, kicking it up into the air. "Lets roll." He snatched the rifle from the air and swaggered off towards the Super-Duper mart. Garrett followed, placing the pistol away in favour of the Assault Rifle on his back. "No doubt they know we're here, Garz, so prepare for a blood bath!" Laughed Ice, reloading the sniper whilst Garrett opened the door. Ice was right. Garrett had to move quickly to avoid becoming swiss cheese.

"Damn. They're well armed for crazies!" Called Garrett, blind firing through the doorway in the general direction of the Raiders. Ice, however, had another idea. He unbuttoned his black jacket, and reached inside. In his hand was a frag grenade and he'd already pulled the pin with his thumb. With a strong arm, he threw the pineapple deep into the Raider's cover.

"Fire in the hole!" He yelled, laughing as he popped out of his cover. He aimed the rifle at the first Raider he saw. The Raider was running from the grenade, but had exposed himself to the sight of Ice's deadly sniper rifle. He tugged the trigger, causing the violent gun to launch a round straight through the man's eye. The head even exploded. "Clean up on aisle four boys." Ice bellowed, firing another shot in the direction of the Raider, but he missed. However, the explosion sent a few limbs flying as Garrett rolled out from his cover, deeper into the shop. He fired in controlled bursts, taking down a few Raiders whilst Ice...Iced a few of them. "Garz, push up, I'll cover you." Ice patted him on the back and somehow managed, with one hand, to take down a raider with his gun.

"Alright!" Called Neilson, getting up and dashing for the next bit of appropriate shielding; A checkout area. He ran, narrowly missing being shot, to the defensive position and ended it with a slide. He looked back to his comrade, giving him the thumbs up to show his status. Garrett stood up, unleashing a volley of hot lead on the Raider directly opposite him. Most of them impacted him in the chest, causing him to drop dead. Garrett, whilst out in the open, spotted something else. A Raider had a grenade that was glowing slightly green in his hand. "Ice! Raider in aisle three has a weird grenade! DROP HIM." Bellowed Garrett. Ice replied with a .308 round to the man's arm. He dropped the grenade, which exploded. It consumed the remaining Raiders in its eerie green blast radius. It was strangely beautiful.

"Now that was a fire-fight, Garz." Said Ice as he walked over towards the Raider's corpses, scavenging allsorts off them. Garrett followed suit, taking anything that was usable which due to the plasma grenade was very little.

"So, Ice, where d'you come from?" Asked Garrett, pulling bits of fried Raider from his 5.56mm clips.

"Me? I was born in tha' wastes, Garz. Me dad was a Talon merc, me mam a Regulator. Strange cross eh?" He took a seat on a nearby table. "Over here, we've got some grub kiddo." He waved Garrett over, motioning to the food at the same time. He took a seat with Ice and eyed the food. It didn't look too great at all. Noodles in slightly green water, but food was food. "So whatcha` doin' out in this neck of the wasteland?"

"I'm heading for D.C. I've heard it was barely affected by the bombs." He took up a dirty fork from the table and rubbed it on his white shirt, removing the dirt before digging into the hard noodles.

"D.C.? Neva` 'eard of it." Ice looked a bit bewildered, so did Garrett. How could he not possibly know about the Capital? The stranger lifted his nuka-cola up infront of Garrett. "To teamwork! And refried squirrel!" He cheered, lifting his squirrel-on-a-stick at the same time. Garrett couldn't help but smile, he'd taken a liking to Ice. He rose his glass of water and knocked it against Ice's nuka-cola.

"So these chunks of meat are squirrel?" Asked Garrett, stabbing one of them with his fork and lifting it up before eating it.

"Nah. They're chunk o' Raider, haha!"

===

What'da ya` think ladies 'n' gents?

Stuff blowing up, Raider's heads exploding, people eating chunks of Raiders. I'd have to say that was very action-packed. I liked it. Can't wait to see what's next!

When are you going to continue this? This was a great story! Keep going!

Sorry, I'm a little busy at the moment (doing geography and history coursework), I'll get to it when it can. Hopefully I can get ALL my geography coursework done today and tomorrow, then do my history ASAP. Then this and a few others are at the top of my list.

Chapter Four
Onwards, to the Capital City!

After a bit more eating and a fair amount of throwing up from Garrett, the duo set off from the old supermarket, heading for the city that lay on the horizon. Now they were closer and Garrett could get a better look, doubts began to form in his head. From what he could see, the place was wrecked. It'd make sense though, it WAS the capital and it was more likely to recieve heavy bombing for it. He rubbed his head and bit his lip as they walked towards a bridge that had managed to survive the explosions. "I really hope I'm right about this..." Garrett sighed, he was generally wrong about important things.

"Ey`, Garz, lookie 'ere! Laaaaand mines!" Exclaimed Ice, pointing out in a rather over dramatic way. Garrett blinked for a second, he was so busy thinking about D.C. he hadn't been noticed the upcoming explosives. Ice knew what to do though, he'd already knelt down and picked up a fairly large chunk of bridge. Forming up as if to throw a baseball, he eyed a mine in the middle of the field. "'Ere comes a spin...Rock!" He paused before throwing, winking to Garrett as he hurled the rock at the mine. Garrett was already backing up as the stone hit. It was a bullseye. BOOM! The explosion knocked Ice backwards and Garrett almost fell to the ground as the bridge shook violently. Ice's piercing laughter cut through the sound of the explosion as he stood up wiping himself down.

"Good shot..." Garrett coughed out, waving the cloud of smoke from his face. Another concern poisoned his already choked mind though, the bridge was still shaking. The explosion had caused it to become unstable and it was going to collapse into the polluted water down below. Pushing Ice in the back, he began to make a dash for the otherside. "Come on! Its gonna fall Ice, move it!" Large parts of the stone bridge fell from under their feet as they ran causing the two to stumble and trip as they went. "Faster, Ice! F-A-S-T-E-R."

"Quit yerr' jabberin` kiddo. Imma make it." Garrett had already made it onto solid land whilst Ice was struggling to keep up as he dodged and danced around a variety of large potholes and gaps in the cracked passage way. The center fell through completely and the rest of it began to receed quickly aswell. The edge of the bridge soon caught up to Ice's heels, who managed to perform a strange looking dive to Garrett. He was a bit short as his hands fell on to the edge, causing his body to hang. "Jesus Christ, Garz, that was a close'un eh?!" He hollowed, laughing as he went. Garrett walked over to him and knelt down, extending his arm for Ice to grip. With one hand firmly secured around Garrett's forearm and the other on the ground, Ice forced himself up and onto his feet then once again brushed down his suit. "Thank ye' kid. Good runnin', bit too old fer` tha' sprinting eh?" He wheezed, obviously exhausted from the running.

"No problem, old timer." Garrett smirked, taking a seat on the newly formed 'cliff', feet hanging over the edge. "Hey, Ice. How old're you anyway?" Garrett asked, looking up at him. It was a mystery to him. His face bared no particular age upon it. He had wrinkles around his eyes, but his face was smooth, like a teen. Ice took a seat next to Garrett and pulled out two loose cigarettes and his zippo, offering one to Garrett.

"Roughly..." Garrett took one of the cigarettes and thanked Ice, placing it in his mouth while Ice lit it, "Seventy two?" Garrett instantly spit the cigarette out, along with some of the bridge that'd flown into his mouth as he crossed. Ice lit his own and took a drag. "What's up wif' that look eh?"

"Seventy two?!" Garrett was confused and impressed at the same time. Ice was either lieing or he was the fittest seventy year old in the wastes...Probably the only seventy year old in the wastes. He rubbed the back of his head as he watched his cigarette fall into the atomic waters of the river. He sighed, continuing to wipe the dust from his jeans. "Such a [censored] to get out." Ice wasn't listening to Garrett, his eyes were resting on the figures the otherside of the river. Three of them, clad in black armour.

"Talons." Hissed Ice, putting his cigarette out on the tarmac next to him before standing up. He took his rifle from his back and called out. "The 'ell you want, merc scum?!" It was obvious Ice didn't like the Talon company much which was strange, considering his father was part of their group. Garrett had stood up aswell and had readied his rifle, just incase. Ice lowered his rifle and grinned. "Don't worry, matey boy. They ain't got no guns, just a random assortment of melee weapons. Must be newbies."

"Ice, your dad's a Talon merc, so why'd you hate them?" Garrett peered over to the men on the other side. They did seem pretty ill equipped AND under-prepared; one even had his armour on backwards.

"'Coz me dad put a contract of ma' head 'tis why." Ice's voice wasn't the usual, cheerful tone; It was solemn and full of hate. He turned away, placing his sniper rifle on his back and he walked away, Garrett behind him.

===

Fairly short, but I'm glad I've put another chapter up here. A little hint that the Talon mercs are going to play a much bigger role in the story then you first probably assumed.

Your writing is quite good, and there aren't a whole lot of issues for me to point out unless I really felt like concentrating on it, which, alas, I do not. Your mechanics are solid, though I've notice you capitalize after semi-colons. No need for that. Your character is good and your story is fine, so that's the only critique I have for the moment. I'll come back if I have anymore though.

Good Stuff!

@ Ambrose: Thanks, and I'll try to remember not to bust in a capital letter after my semis. It just looks cooler D:
@ Acidus: Are you happy now?!
@ Dan: Thanks, any problems you can see?

===

Chapter Five
"Riding on the metro..."

"Goddamnit!" Yelled Garrett, kicking a stone against the blockade of broken buildings infront of him. "We've been trying to get in for HOURS. Every path's blocked by rubble!" He took a seat on a rather large chunk of building, running his hands through his hair. Ice sat down next to him, patting his back.

"Calm down kid. We'll get in, don't'cha worry 'bout a ting." He gave one of his dazzling smiles before taking out a canteen. He swilled what water was left inside before downing it. "Well, that's da' last of me water, you gotta load though 'i--" He stopped mid-sentence, looking up from Garrett. Someone was there. He stood at around six foot and a half, a beast of a man, at least they were both hoping he was a man, not a deranged mutant or something. They couldn't tell. His body was wrapped in a deep maroon cloth with a makeshift hood pulled over his head. His face was hidden by the shadow cast by said hood yet his bright yellow eyes were visible from under it. It fixed its penetrating gaze on Garrett's own dull green eyes as it spoke.

"Are you looking to get into D.C.?" The combination of its daunting size, abnormal eyes and the deep, raspy voice sent multipule chills down Garrett's spine as he went to speak. From under the rag rose a hand. Before Garrett could speak, a figure walked out from behind the beast. It was a Ghoul. He chuckled slightly as he brought himself infront of the shrouded beast. "They call me Bones. A pleasure to meet you gentlemen." It then occured to both Garrett and Ice that it wasn't the huge figure who spoke, but Bones from behind him. The Ghoul let out a solid cough, clearing his throat before straightening his pin-strip suit. He reached up to his flaking face and lowered his glasses. His milky white eyes looked straight through the duo. "I have an offer. I'll get you into the city without a hitch...Free of charge." Garrett stood up, he wasn't sure about this Bones guy.

"Why would you do that?" He asked, making sure to keep his distance from the beast and his master.

"I'm in a generous mood." He replied instantly. He'd anticipated Garrett would ask such a question. "Now. Do you want to get into D.C. without becoming food for the ferals?" He grinned a toothless grin as he extended his hand out to Garrett. Ice stood up, taking ahold of the Ghoul's hand and began shaking it.

"'Tis a deal, Mr. Bones!" Ice returned the Ghoul's smile and released his hand and eyed the skin the Ghoul had left on his hand. "Nasty." Bones turned around, placing his hands behind his back before walking off, his 'bodyguard' directly behind him.

"I happen to have the only fully functioning train in the metros, my friends." He spoke over his shoulder as Ice and Garrett began to follow Bones. "It'll have you in the center of our fair capital in a matter of minutes and I assure you it will be a journey you won't forget," He broke off for a moment, biting his bottom lip slightly, "due to the rarity of such a trip." He continued, a hint of laughter in his speech. They arrived at the entrance to the metro tunnels in very little time. The group descended down the stairs and through the wrought iron gates and into a whole new world. "Welcome to my home." Bones called his hands in a rather over-dramatic fashion causing lights to burst into full action, flooding the pristine corridor with bright white light. And it WAS pristine. Not a single tile was broken, nor was there a single speck of grime or dirt on them. They walked down the red carpet towards the platform. Garrett looked around in awe and began to speak, but he answered his own question. As they walked past two alcolves, he spotted two turrets. Then he noticed a few more turrets hidden in the roof and some more. The place was practically a bunker.

"Nice crib you got 'ere, Mr. Bones." Ice said as he examined the corridor much like Garrett but he ignored the turrets and was more concerned about the hot-tub and why he wasn't in it, enjoying some vintage wine. He shook his head, focusing on the platform ahead. "Woah...Now this is luxury!" He called out, his voice echoed around the huge hall. Ice gazed at each and every piece of elegant furniture in the bunker, at the metal work and at the flawless train. The train was the crowning achievement of Bones. Each carriage was painted with gold and red paint, the interior had been re-furnished, somehow, to match the rich exterior. They glided down the working escalators and were greeted by the opening doors of the train. "This is too good to be true!"

===

It may well be 'too good to be true'. A basket of cookies to anyone who guesses the flaw.

No replies? Sad face. New chapter. Sad stuff coming up.

===

Chapter Six
The Inconvenient Truth

Bones waved his bodyguard off in the direction of what appeared to be the control 'room' for the train. With a grunt, the huge figure departed and made his way to the room. "Right..." Bones made another gesture, this time ushering Ice into a small cabin. "Sadly, the train is rather slow. Make yourself at home, feel free to sleep." Ice nodded to Garrett and opened the door, entering the rather large, well furnished cabin. "And you're sleeping down the other end." Garrett made through the carriage and into the second one, passing rows of seats as he went.

"Things are looking up. Maybe D.C.'s as nice as this..." Garrett thought as he slid the door to his cabin open and stepped inside the room. He removed his equipment from himself, placing it on the counter near the bed. Slowly, he took a seat on the bed and once more ran his hands through his hair. A slight hissing noise filled the air as the train began to lurch into action, but Garrett ignored it, besides, he was feeling pretty tired. His eyelids closed and he slumped on the bed, motionless, asleep.

Garrett's eyes flickered open and he was greeted by a flickering light above him. The dirty light bathed his body, showing that he was no longer in his own clothes, but infact what looked like an old, grimy hospital gown. He looked around the cabin, ignoring the fatigue that was still present; this wasn't the place he fell asleep in...Or was it. The structure looked exactly the same, but what was in it was not. The once plush, red and gold bed was now a rusted hospital bed with any bedding removed from it. The counter tops were not longer painted and wooden but metal and coated with limescale. His assault rifle and pistol had disappeared too, but they'd been replaced by a tray of surgical utensels. Standing up, Garrett eyed the objects. He didn't know what half of them were, or what they were for and he didn't want to know. Picking up a scalpel, the yanked back the old door and stumbled into the carriage groggily.

The train was still moving, it seemed quicker than when it first started to Garrett but that could of been the fatigue further blurring the walls that sped past. Using the bars to keep him stable, he made his way forwards, occasionally being knocked and thrown by the movement of the train. He blinked twice, watching the door infront of him open. He was met by a familiar voice, but not a familiar sight. "Ah...I see you've managed to wake up. That's a bother." The figure reached into the pocket of its lab coat and pulled out a syringe equipped with a needle. He flicked the end, sending some of the contense from the syringe onto the floor. "Time to sleep..." He walked towards Garrett, laughing slowly. And then it clicked, it was Bones. He was no longer wearing his fancy suit, but instead a blood-stained lab coat. Garrett steadied himself as Bones drew near.

"W-Where's Ice?!" He yelled out, moving backwards to counter the Ghoul's approach.

"Still asleep. I'll...'Get' to him after I've finish with you." Bones let out a cracked chuckle as Garrett found himself at the back of the carriage, he was corner. Bones went in to grab him, but Garrett managed to throw himself into the cabin, avoiding the Ghoul's latex covered hands. Before Bones could get in, Garrett had stood up. "Come here!" He called, trying to make his way into the cabin. He failed again. Garrett slammed the door against Bones' wrist as it came through the door, trapping it against the wall. "AH!" He screamed out in pain, trying to recoil, but Garrett didn't let him. He continued to collide the door with the Ghoul's battered hand forcing the bones to snap and shatter. Eventually, Bones dropped the syringe as his fingers broke in the door which Garrett gladly took hold of. Sliding the door back fully, he rammed his foot against the chest of the recovering Ghoul. Bones stumbled back, falling over the seats behind him. Garrett pounced, driving the needle into the neck of the Ghoul.

"Good night." He whispered as Bones' futile attempts to resist faded. He stood up, shaking his head to try and rid himself of the drugs in his system. They were slowly having less of an effect on him. He made his way towards the open door and towards Ice's cabin. Yet his troubles were not over yet, he noted the giant figure at the front of the train. "He didn't hear us?" Garrett crept forwards, his breath lined with anticipation and fear as he drew near. Scalpel in hand, he screamed, jumping onto the back of the creature. "DIE!" He thrust the small surgical blade into the back of its neck through the cover of its cloth. It grunted, confused. Frantically, it began spinning around, letting out howls of pain as the blade continually perferated the thick skin protecting its neck. The beast crushed Garrett between its back and the wall of the train, causing Garrett to lose his grip and hit the floor. "Ugh..." The beast turned to face Garrett, the cloth covering its body falling off.

The black revealed a pale, sickly, yellow hide, coated in veins of blue and scars of a deep crimson. Cuts and abrasions littered the monsters' body and deep wounds were common-place on its face. Yellow eyes locked onto Garrett's own eyes, but now, they seemed sad and misunderstood. Garrett looked over the beast's head and its wounds, his heart sunk. That only lasted for a moment, as the creatures face changed its mood from sad to angry. It gripped the collar of Garrett's white shirt, causing it to tear slightly, and pounded him against the train's windshield. It moved the grip of its mighty hand onto his neck and began to squeeze, sobs coming from his torn mouth. Garrett began to squirm, legs kicking and hands pulling at the huge fingers. As everything began to fade, once more a familiar sound rang in Garrett's ears, but this was not a voice, it was the sound of a .308 caliber round leaving a sniper rifle. "Ice..." Thought Garrett, as another shot rang out. Both ruptured the back of the mutant's skull and tore into the small brain that resided inside. It let go off Garrett and fell backwards to the ground, leaving Garrett to slide down to the floor.

"Didn't think a few two bit sleepin' drugs were gunna` keep me down did'ya`?" He laughed, lowering the smoking barrel of his rifle and looked at Garrett. Familiar noises were becoming far too common for Garrett, especially since another one was just heard, another two. The unmistakable sound of Garrett's .223 pistol pierced the air to Garrett's horror. The smile present on Ice's face slowly dropped, as did his body. The blood of his comrade sprayed out from his chest onto Garrett. The rain of gore fell against Garrett's exposed skin. His face copied that of Ice's; it dropped into a look of horror, of fear, of dismay.

"You..." The sound of Bones' raspy voice caused Garrett to shuddered once more. Ice fell down to revealed Bones standing in the doorway of the carriage, using it for support. "I'm, a Ghoul, you foul. Those...Drugs aren't as strong...For me. You should of killed me while you had the chance. He raised the pistol, leveling it with Garrett's scrambling body. Click. The pistol was empty. Bones' horror was only further amplified by what Garrett was doing. Through the use of the control panel, he'd managed to get to his feet, but that had had some adverse side-effects. Two side-effects to be exact; first, the speed of the train had increased dramatically causing Bones' to fly back into the previous carriage. The handle which Garrett had pushed was rusted and, after years of use and poor treatment, snapped. And secondly, the electromagnet connecting the front carriage to the second was disabled. While Bones and the carriages drifted off in the background, the front carriage only sped up.

Garrett was thrown violently around inside the train by the unsuitable speeds. He looked on in horror as Ice's body began to slide to the open door. "NO!" He cried out, diving towards one of his legs. He landed with a thud, but he'd managed to secure his hands around the blood-sodden calf of Ice. His body was half-hanging out of the train and Garrett lacked the strength to pull him back inside. He began to sod as the leg slipped from his grip and he watched his friend's lifeless corpse bounce along the track before disappearing, like everything else good in his life did.

Garrett didn't move, he just lay on his stomach, sobbing.

===

DDDDD:

Wow. This is possibly the best fanfic I've read on these forums. Seriously. This would give some books I've read a run for their money. I'm riveted! Can't wait for the next chapter! :goodjob:

@ Manta: Thanks man. I'll try and get the next chapter up in a few hours (if I'm feeling creative).

Anyone got any criticisms?

Alright, 'nother chapter coming up. Forgot a sub-title for the last one, so I add one; "The Inconvenient Truth", thought it fitted quite well.

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Chapter Seven
A Past Best Forgotten

Garrett sat inside his flat drinking a beer. His mind was working without rest to produce a plan, a plan to pay back Bishop. "Maybe if I..." Garrett said outloud, he always worked better when he was talking. "No...That's stupid, he'll never...Then again..." He rubbed his chin, taking another sip from his beer. He sighed. It wouldn't be that much of a problem if he wasn't such a lousy gambler.

"Garrett? Are you talking to yourself again?" Garrett's little sister emerged from one of the doorways inside the flat, dressed in her night gown. Rubbing her eyes she peered over to Garrett and the small amount of chips on the table. "Why are the savings on the table?" Having heard what he was saying before, he crossed her arms. "I thought you stopped gambling, Garrett! Jesus Christ, one of these days you're going to get yourself killed!" She yelled.

"No. No! Its not like that! You see, I, uh, left a bit of a 'tab' behind you see. Nothing to worry about, just go back to bed, Sam." Garrett loved his little sister dearly; she was the only decent thing in his life. Sure, she was stricter than his mother and had one hell of a temper, but that was expected from a girl of her age and, in Garrett's eyes, it kept him in line...Sort of. He smiled towards his sister, but she clearly wasn't buying into his lies.

"That's complete and utter Brahmin dung and YOU know it!" She hissed, furrowing her brown. "How much do you owe them this time?!" Her voice was slowly getting louder, "One thousand? Two thousand? Three thousand?!" She was at the top of her voice now, screaming at Garrett. She didn't care how much it was really, she just cared about her brother's safety. If he died, she'd be all alone in the world.

"Uh..." He pulled on the collar of his white shirt and bit his bottom lip slowly.

"It's more than that?!"

"F-Five thousand." He replied, coughing heavily to try and mask the amount. Rather than shouting, his sister dropped her arms and ran off into her room, slamming the door behind her. "Crap, crap, crap!" Garrett began to yell to, hurling the nearly empty bottle of beer at the door. Fragments of glass rained upon the floor as the door opened to reveal three, shady looking men. Two of them were wearing cheap looking clothes covered in holes, blood and sweat. Yet, the man standing infront was wearing a suit of deep purple velvet, with polished white shoes and a fedora.

"Hello, Garrett." He spoke in a calm, deep voice. The tone was smooth and mellow, but Garrett knew the man's intentions; he was one of Bishop's men. As quickly as possible, Garrett tried to get to out of the kitchen, but he wasn't quick enough. The two other men had pounced, ramming Garrett against the wall and delivering a solid punch to the gut. "Tch, tch, tch. You can't run forever, Garrett." The man continued, entering the tiny flat and looking around. "What a [censored] hole..." He sneered before turning his attention to Garrett, "It suits you." The two bruisers either side of Garrett let out a chuckle as their grip on Garrett tightened.

"I-I've got some of it, on the table!" Garrett yelped as another fist punished his gut. The man in the suit raised an eyebrow and walked over to the table, he began counting what little chips were there.

"One hundred...Two hundred...Three hundred chips." He turned his attention to Garrett, laughing slightly. The bruisers joined in the laughing before he clicked his fingers, silencing them. "Three hundred chips? That's not enough. Nowhere near enough."

"I know, I know! But I can get some more, honest." Garrett was buying time, unsure of how he could get that amount of chips in such a short space of time. "Just, give me some time." He was hit in the stomach again causing him to double over.

"Time? You've had a month already. The boss has been very kind because he likes you, Garrett. But you're trying his patience now." He gave another tut before flipping the table over sending the chips flying all around the flat. "Now, listen here." He moved directly infront of Garrett, his hand gripping his jaw and lifting it up. He looked directly into Garrett's eyes. "If you don't pay up, I'll cut each of your fingers off, then feed them to you one by one--"

"No!" It was Sam. After hearing all the commotion from inside her room, she'd snuck out of her room and into Garrett's. Once inside, she managed to locate Garrett's combat knife. Now, she was down the corridor, pointing it at the closest bouncer. "Let him go or I'll make you sorry!" She called, waving the knife around, trying to be threatening. All three of Bishop's men began laughing at her, amused at this act of defiance.

"Isn't she cute? Knuckles, take care of her." Chuckled the leader, his grip still on Garrett's jaw. The larger of the two men let go of Garrett and walked up to Sam, cracking his knuckles as he went. Before he could grab her though, Sam drove the serrated blade into his thigh. The man hollowed in pain and gripped his thigh falling to the floor. Blood poured from the wound as she began to kick him on the floor. The second of the grunts managed to get his hands on her though, lifting her into the air, he wrapped his arms around her and held her still. "Feisty." He laughed, looking over her slowly. "I'll tell you what...I'm going to give you an extra week." Garrett's face lit up, suprised at this turn of fate, but fate was a tricky mistress and it was about to take another turn, "But, just incase you try to run, I'm going to be looking after your sister."

"W-What? No...She's just an innocent kid, come one! Its my debt, not hers. Please, don't!" Pleaded Garrett as the man let go of his jaw. He fell onto his knees and begged, something Garrett had never had to do before, but he was serious, he didn't want to lose his sister.

"If you don't pay up by the end of the week, she won't be so innocent anymore, if you catch my drift."

"You...You wouldn't, you bastard, you..." Garrett was silenced by a short, sharp kick to the side of the ribs by the leader. Garrett rolled on the floor and held his side in pain.

"I wouldn't, no. But I'm sure someone else would gladly do it." He smirked and motioned to the door. The two of them left, leaving Garrett to sob on the floor...

===

This is just a chapter showing you a bit more about Garrett's past, his troubles and his losses. Poor Garrett, as usual.

Great - you're filling out the characters nicely. Good job. And no criticisms, that was immaculate

This is one of the 3 fan fics that have made me want to read and read and read them. This has really caught my attention i like this keep it up man .