Alone

Prologue

My fellow Americans, it is with great pleasure that I speak to you today. This day, that has brought us all a sense of relief and great pride. Our boys who were sent gallantly off to fight for our freedom in Alaska have won. I'll say that again, our boys have beaten back the communist invaders that have sullied American soil. Due to our technological prowess and unshakeable American spirit, we have taken back Anchorage and the Chinese Military is in full retreat. I have no doubt in saying that from this moment forward, our country will move forward and put our violent ways behind us. We will show the world that we are the future.

The United States President last address to the nation before the bomb's fell.

Chapter One - Awakening

The Cold. It was so cold, it felt like it was biting into every bone and cutting through the body at a frightening pace. That was the first thought going Hawksmoore's mind. The second, he couldn't see. He couldn't see a thing, only hearing the distant whine of an alarm in the distance. He shook his head, trying to shake the cold feeling from his body, with no luck. Okay, where am I? What's going on? The thoughts and questions buzzed around his brain. Attempting to lift his left hand, he felt it come to life. He let out a sigh of relief; at least his limbs were in working order. He brought his hand forward, it coming to rest on an ice cold surface, he pushed hard against it. The alarm increased in volume as he felt the surface push away from him.

Letting himself drop, he fell hard; his face impacting against what he thought was a floor. He struggled to look around, still blind to what was around him but his eyesight slowly returning. Making out distinct shapes around him, he realized he'd been in a tube of some sort. It was connected to various pipes which lead up to a ceiling. A lone panel stood beside the tube, Hawksmoore tried to read it. He could just make out two words: "CHAMBER RELEASED." Taking in his surroundings, Hawksmoore could make out more; he was in a large room, many other tubes stood next to his, his being at the far left end. Each, like his was connected to an array of tubes and a lone console. He let out a gasp, his memory returning. He remembered them. He remembered his wife, Violet. He rushed forward to the tube opposite his, battering his fists against the frost tinted glass. He searched for a glimpse of her but couldn't see her, the frost over the glass screen was too great. Looking around frantically, his breath coming out in short, ragged bursts, he finally set his eyes on the console next to his wife's tube. He slammed his fist against the buttons until the long tube that was now his wife's tomb let out a short alarm, the hatch slowly opening upward to reveal his worst nightmare.

Violet, his wife, was dead. She was still clad in the blue vault suit that he saw her put on while he cradled their child in his arms. She was frozen stiff, her arms still held outward like she was still groping the air for him to save her. Hawksmoore let out a cry of anguish, his arms reaching out to hold on to her frozen form. He let his body be racked with sob after sob, his shoulder shaking violently. He didn't know how long he was there, cradling his wife but it felt like an eternity. They had been so happy. They had everything right for them since he had returned from Alaska.

The house had been an easy buy, his military pension saw to rocked back on to his heels, his eyes staring up at his wife once more.

"I'll find who did this, and I'll get them. I promise." Closing his eyes, he got to his feet, his clenched fist hitting the button on the console once more, the hatch closing on his wife again, her forever to be entombed in the metallic tube.

A loud whine of an alarm sounded through the room, followed by a robotic female voice informing the vault that the cryogenic chambers had been opened, Hawksmoore ignored it. He could feel his hearing and eyesight returning, no doubt impaired by the cryogenic sleep he had just woken from. He crossed his arms over his chest, a cold and unshakeable chill running through his body. Moving forward down past the various other cryogenic chambers, he noticed the inhabitants all frozen in various states of death. He let out a grunt and shook his head, not bothering to check inside. "How could Vault-Tec do this? They were meant to help us…" Making his way up the stairs, the door into the cryogenic room opened without hesitation for him. He glanced from left to right, suddenly becoming uneasy, What if the people who did this are still alive? He shook his head and let his feet carry him through the hallway, noting the various tools and ladders scattered around. Peeking through a horizontal window along the hallway, he noticed the rooms housing other cryogenic chambers, all showing red blinking lights. He approached a wooden bench, a solitary metallic security baton sitting on it. He gripped it up in his right hand and gave it a few swings, determining that if the people who did this were still alive, he'd show them they messed with the wrong person. Gritting his teeth, he extended his armed hand outward before moving carefully in to the next room.

Three generators lined the room, they each giving off a sporadic spark of electricity, clearly all in disrepair. Hawksmoore kept the security baton at the ready, his eyes moving around the room cautiously. A small brown husk skittered across the room, it moving quickly through the gaps in the generators. Hawksmoore kept his eyes with it, his military instincts kicking in. That looks like a cockroach…The small shape that looked like a cockroach came to a stop, it extending out it's pincers in aggression as it spotted Hawksmoore. Falling backward slightly as he raised his security baton, Hawksmoore let out a loud laugh as a small spark of electricity struck the not-cockroach, sending the small smoking form across the room away from the generators. Feeling himself on the floor and also feeling like a complete idiot, Hawksmoore pushed himself to his feet. I could use some more of that luck. Keeping the security baton at the ready for any other unwanted surprises, the man wearing a fresh Vault 101 suit walked around the generators, keeping clear of the sparks of electricity. He came to a stop as soon as he spotted the skeleton; it still dressed in what looked like a lab coat, the Vault-Tec symbol emblazed over the right breast. He got on to one knee, his free hand lifting up the coat slightly, checking the skeleton over. "What the hell has happened… is anyone alive?"

Shoulders drooping slightly, he got to his feet and pushed his way past the various boxes blocking the door, using the baton to strike away the cobwebs lining the doorway. He moved down the hallway carefully, it like all the others dotted with various unopened boxes and tools, he stopped suddenly when he saw the open doorway, a small lit sign flicking over it which read "OVERSEER'. Remembering the man from when he entered the vault, he felt the anger rise in his chest. If I had that bastard in my hands, I would tear him apart. Rushing in to the room, he scanned his eyes around frantically, trying to find someone to talk to, trying to find someone to explain what was going on. The room was like all others, except a cage situated in the corner of the room that seemed to house various boxes of ammunition along with an open case. A large wooden desk sat in the middle of the room, a functioning terminal still on it. Hawksmoore let his feet carry him around the desk, his instincts taking control. Another skeleton lay by a broken desk chair, the spectacles that the person once wore still sitting on the skull.

Holding his hand over his mouth at the smell that penetrated his nostrils from the room, he reached over to move his hands over the terminal keyboard, finally spotting a function that would open some sort of tunnel. He felt a small grin cross his face, finally, a way out of here. He tapped the key button, it resulting in a door opening in another corner of the room. Pushing himself away from the desk, Hawksmoore spotted the pistol resting on a shelf inside the cage in the corner, a case of ammunition beside it. Moving to in to the small cage, he picked up the pistol, checking the magazine. It was loaded.

Feeling better about his current situation, he clipped the security baton away on to his Vault-Tec issue belt and readied the pistol, his hands moving in to a standard military format of holding a weapon. His weapon held forward, Hawksmoore moved through the door out of the Overseer's office in to another hallway, only silence and darkness greeting him. He had to find a way out of here. Hearing a short snap and a pitter patter of multiple legs came from the darkness at the end of the hallway, Hawksmoore immediately raised his pistol at the sound. Calming his breathing, the ill-fated vault dweller scanned the dark hallway with his pistol, wishing he had some sort of light. A short burst of pain erupted on his right leg, then another and another as he felt pincers stab into him from all sides. Letting out a cry of pain, Hawksmoore fired off round after round, the bullets seeming to fly everywhere as he rushed forward. The flashes of light from his weapon revealed his attackers to be the cock-roach like creatures again, although they were in a group now.

Running down the hallway, he fired the pistol behind his back towards his attackers. He finally reached a set of stairs, scrambling up them, his pistol held in his right hand, blood trickling down the steps as he climbed them. He pushed himself through an open doorway, falling on to his backside inside a wide room that seemed to house the vault door. He turned and extended his pistol and fired. He watched the darkness while his finger clicked away at the pistols trigger until the slide on top of the weapon pulled backward, indicating that it was empty. Letting out a slow breath, he waited for the creatures to jump out from the darkness… but nothing did. The pain shot through his ribs, he dared to look down. The vault suit he had been wearing was torn, the pincers from the cockroach like creatures had torn bloody gashes down his right side. He grimaced and let out another cry of pain as he got to his feet, his free hand holding the now bleeding wounds across his ribs. The Vault door stared at him from across the room, the large one eleven painted in yellow across its front. Breathing heavily, Hawksmoore made his way across to the control room, coming to stop at another skeleton lying beside it. He looked up from the console to the open vault door, tilting his head slightly. Why is it open?

Gritting his teeth in determination, Hawksmoore moved to stand in front of the small platform extending toward the open vault door, the mammoth gear shaped door rolled to the left side. He stepped on to the platform, finally walking from the vault and towards what looked like to be an elevator. Still holding his now empty pistol, Hawksmoore climbed down the steps, his footsteps echoing off the walls before he reached the grating toward the lift. He slammed his fist once in to the grating gave the elevator the push it needed to open the grate, it extending upward and revealing the elevator. Hawksmoore looked over his shoulder toward the open vault door, his narrowed green eyes taking in the sight, his heart breaking at the thought of leaving his wife in that place. Shaking his head, he went in to the elevator, holding his pistol forward for comfort rather than practical ability due to it being empty. He had to focus on finding his son, he just had to. The elevator sounded a siren and began to move upward, a female voice coming over the speaker to the left side of the elevator telling him to enjoy his return to the service and thank you for choosing Vault-Tec. Fuck you Vault-Tec.

Holding his hand up to his shield his eyes from the blinding sunlight, the elevator rose and came to a stop, it letting out a shudder, causing Hawksmoore to stagger on his feet. His vision was blurry; he could barely make out anything. He let out a short breath, grateful to be breathing normal air again. Feeling his vision returning slowly, he let his hand fall from his eyes. He fell to his knees for a second time, the sight that greeted him sent shockwaves through his entire body. What was once known as the New England Commonwealth had been reduced to a barren wasteland. Trees long dead dotted the landscape along with burned out husks of buildings. Hawksmoore could spot the skyline of Boston in the distance slightly, it showing the outline of ruins.

He turned his eyes toward where his home should be, letting out a gasp at the sight. His home, Sanctuary Hills had been reduced to nothing more than ruin; the once gleaming lawns and houses were now old and battered, each scorched by nuclear fire. A wooden fence surrounded the perimeter of the houses. It looked like someone lived there. The sobs began to rack his chest as he took in the sight before him, closing his eyes. What has happened to my world? Someone must be alive. Hawksmoore let the sobs subside again, opening his eyes. He felt a sense of determination; he had to find his son. He had to find Shaun. If that meant carving his way across his damn place then he would. He'd start at Sanctuary. He started to get to his feet but felt cold steel pressing against the back of his head. His military instincts told him that it was a weapon. He heard the soft click of a round being loaded in to a chamber and another click of the weapon's safety coming off. A small chuckle came from behind him, the cold steel pressing even more into the back of his head. "I remember when I first came out of that Vault, I was scared shitless. So how about you tell me how the hell you are alive when I made sure that everyone in that damn hellhole was dead. Turn around." His body shaking, Hawksmoore turned his head, his hands extending upward in surrender. He looked up at the large form of a man adorned in various bits of armor, a beanie hat sitting on his head above steel grey eyes. A large beard framed a smirking mouth, clean white teeth gleaming out at him. He held a rifle in his hands, it held together by what looked like to be duct tape and various other components, a scope resting on top of it. The man kept his rifle trained on Hawksmoore, the barrel pressing firmly in to his chest. Hawksmoore let his eyes wander down to the man's chest, shaking his head in disbelief, one eleven was printed across the man's chest, this man was another vault dweller.

A/N First Chapter done! What do you think? Please review and let me know! See ya around, folks.