Chapter 1

Vault sweet, Tomb

To live and to die in the vault had always been expected, and if things had continued on the same path than it would still be today. In order to explain how I got to my current state of staring down the barrel of a forty-four I might as well go all the way to a week before my grand adventure. As many people in the wastes can probably tell you, I was born in a hole in the ground. This hole in the ground had a name, Vault 2.

Now what is a vault many of you may be asking, well a vault is a glorified long term bomb shelter. About 250 years ago the inhabitants of the old world got into a very big war, in an effort to end the war a country unleashed its arsenal of nuclear fire. Everyone with equal abilities responded to the same tune, seeing this as an inevitability, Vault-tech invented and built tons of vaults just like mine. Each vault was led by an overseer who acted like the mayor of the inhabitants.

Being an overseer never seemed like a good job to me, unless you find watching over a handful of people enclosed in a giant metal box a few hundred feet below the earth fun then by all means run for election. It was the overseer's job, however, to insure the continued survival of all of its inhabitants and make sure they are well fed. Over the course of the 200+ years of being exposed to high levels of radiation and our bodies becoming accustomed too little to no food or water for a huge amount of time, humans evolved. This made the overseer's job a bit easier to manage since it took almost five whole weeks for someone to die of thirst and double that for hunger. I would later find out that those who had been outside of the vault grew to not need as much sleep but I will go into that much later.

Our vault had a very special job, and by special I mean highly degrading and borderline inhumane. We were to test the long term effects of radiation…on ourselves. Many people died during the first few years of being in the vault, some people's genes would mutate in such a way that they grew into big muscular beasts and turned green when they were born. We learned that we had to put those people down or else they would go nuts on everyone. Other people might grow an extra limb or maybe even develop an exoskeleton. Out of all the possibilities that could have happened to me, I was born without my right eye.

People felt sympathetic at first but eventually I became the butt end of cruel jokes. I absolutely refuse to talk about said jokes but they were horrid I assure you. My left eye was not very good though. I am what people called "far-sighted" meaning I can't see things that are really close to me and I have to wear glasses, or rather a monocle, to see the things that are close. But I was exceptionally gifted in intelligence and charisma, because of my awesome brain I got a position as a technician in the vault giving me access to plenty of scrap metal and electronics.

I created an eye-patch/glasses combo, half of the set was my usual monocle thing and the other half was a metal eye patch that attached to the bridge that goes over my nose. Why is it made of metal you are no doubt asking, it is because of the computer. I have, with the help of the vault doctor, drilled a hole through my non-existent eye into my skull so I can hook up a computer to my brain. What is the computer you may now be asking, it isn't a computer really it is my pipboy-3000. Pipboys' are one of the most important pieces of a vault dwellers arsenal; it can manage health, radiation levels, thirst and hunger, equipment, and medicine. It can also tune into the PDA system in the vault.

Everyone had a pipboy, it was given to you when you turned ten years old and was considered a rite of passage by most people. It was also the only thing anyone ever looked forward too down here. Well there was one other thing, death. You are never prepared to witness someone die by any means, mine was via a murder and the second was the man's execution. An extremist from the south east living quarters decided that enough was enough and murdered the overseer because he felt that she was "much too feminine for the job". That was when my father became the overseer, and where our story can finally begin.

It was a Monday I think, maybe a Tuesday, no one really gave a darn about what day it was, only the time. People seemed really busy of late, shoving and pushing and even a little biting here and there. I tried to ask my uncle Ben why people were freaking the heck out. "I don't even know Jason, and you're a grown ass man learn to fucking cuss every so often please, it makes you seem…weak." He told me, he always yelled at me for not cussing. The truth is I just don't like the way the swearing rolls of my tongue, it made me feel dirty.

After asking at least ten more people about just what is going on I decided my father would know. I remember thinking to myself about just why I didn't start with dear old dad, he was the overseer now. Sometimes things just take some time to get use to I guess. When I arrived at his office I saw that a dozen people had the same idea. My father was trying to answer everyone's questions as best he could but they came at him to fast.

Finally he pushed the panic button under his desk and had the security team escort everyone out of his office. The place was just like any other room, dark and metal, damp yet dry. The bolts in the walls had their own individual rust patterns, many people in the vault took to counting all of the bolts just to see how many there are. Tommy Lumpkins swore that he had them all counted and said that there were over 200 million bolts. Tommy had a very unfortunate last name.

My dad finally stopped rubbing his temples long enough to see me in the door way. "Come on in Jason, I am sure you're here for the same reasons the others were too?" He asked

"Maybe, I just want to know why everyone is in such a rush today. Last time I checked the schedule there was nothing about a drill so I'm guessing something happened?"
"Yes, something very big happened." The look in his eyes was the same he had when my mother died of her illness, hurt and depression. But also fear, an overwhelming amount of fear, it was almost like you could taste it in the musty air. "Dad, what's wrong?"
"We…we are almost out of food, and the soil in the green house has given us all she can, the radiation levels are too high in it. We have no other choice." I knew what he meant, anyone who knew my dad would know what he was currently on about. He was going to open the Vault for the first time since the war. "Are you sure dad? Who knows what's out there, or if there even is an out there to go to! You're sure there is no other way?"
"Positive, I have personally gone through every inch of this accursed metal tomb and found not a single trace of usable soil. It has to be done."
"I'm with you dad, you can always count on me for that, but are you sure the others will take it as well as I am? What if they revolt? What if they get violent or the extremists try to kill you like they did Sarah?" I asked with my fear for my dad's safety at its peak. He looked at me and just shook his head with a smile on his face. "Your just like your mother you know that? She would have said the same damn thing. I have already checked with Holster about his party's stand on opening the vault and he agreed that it must be done if we are to survive longer than another year." He got Holster to agree to something? That man was the most radical of the extremists, which is why they made him the head of their party. "How in the hay did you manage that?" I asked stubbornly. "Well, your old man knows how to talk himself out of a situation every now and then."
"Yeah, just as good as you can talk yourself into one too." We both laughed at that, it was the first time in a long time I had heard my father laugh. "There is something I need you to do for my Jason, something we all need you to do."
"Yeah dad?"
"I need you to be the one who goes out of the vault." I froze. Me? He wanted ME to go? I sat there mouth a gape staring at him, what good would I do outside of the vault? "You have every reason to take pause at that son but the truth is you are the only one I find bright enough to make heads or tails of what's out there."
"I…I…understand dad, when do you want me to go?"
"Now." He said