Author's note: This story is based the Fallout universe set in the UK, using real places. There are some headcannons about how the UK faired in the Great War and some differences in how society has rebuilt it'self. Differences include the use of bottle caps, the interference of Enclave and the FEV and the behaviour and quirks of ghouls. There are also different mutated creatures but, like I said before, no super mutants. Some differences will be explained more clearly later on but some of them are just how society has rebuilt it'self compared to the USA.
Thank you for your time, this is my first fallout fic and I hope you enjoy reading.
"We have to keep moving, before the sleet sets in."
The group around the campfire looked up at the caravan guard who had spoken, dark haired and pale skinned. He looked back at them from the boarded up window he was peering out of.
"Lighten up Arthur," Another guard said calmly as she warmed her gloved hands on the fire, "Have something to eat, relax. We'll make it."
Arthur pursed his lips and turned to the window. The cracks between the boards showed the remains of what used to be a high street, once filled with busy shoppers but was now nothing more then rows of crumbling buildings. They were staying in one of the more sturdy ones, but even then Arthur could feel the cold air biting at his face through the window. He lifted his grey scarf over his mouth and nose and sighed, letting his own breath warm his face.
"Laura's right Arthur, you don't get your rest, you'll never survive the cold." The caravan's merchant said. He turned the mutated pigeon spit roast over the fire, the meat of the bird turning brown. "If the sleet's too bad we'll just hold up here, see what we can find."
"I'd love to check out that pier." A third guard said absent mindedly prodding the fire with a stick.
"Oh yeah Robert, and when you fall into the irradiated sea I ain't gonna be the one to pull your arse out." Laura snapped, but then laughed.
The merchant smiled then turned back to Arthur, who was still looking at the sleet. "Sit down kid, you're making the place look untidy." He took one of the legs off of a bird roast, "Have some pigeon, it's good for you."
Arthur stared out into the street for a while longer before coming back to the fire to take a pigeon drumstick. It had a gamy taste but he was used to it, living off irradiated wildlife was part of the job. The group of four chatted about adventure and told stories that they had learned, most of which had been told between them many times before.
Robert meanwhile, was only half in the conversations. Between eating and talking he was tinkering with a radio he had picked up earlier, hoping to find a station that still worked after two hundred years. Yet to the surprise of the four, underneath the crackles of static, they could hear a voice.
"That was... by... now do... the..." The voice was faint, by it sent the group silent, Robert turned some dials until the voice became clear.
"...Somehow one of those gangs managed to convince their overseer to open the vault doors. The poor idiot, 'cause now he's screwed over the ones he's meant to be protecting, or she, but either way. Not too sure why they trusted an outsider like that, but it hasn't been good for them." The voice was smooth and crisp, a women was speaking.
"My reports are saying that about a dozen of the vault dwellers just bolted, ran off into the wastes. In my opinion, they're all screwed, I hear they've got central heating down in those vaults, none of that up here." She laughed, the group exchanged looks. "But seriously, if one of you vault dwellers can here me then stay warm, stay protected and stay safe. And if any good people can hear me then help these poor souls. Remember these guys aren't fresh meat, they're just baby birds fresh out the nest, have a heart. Now for tonight we have some classics so stay tuned and have a good night, I'll see you in the morning, goodnight Southend!"
A pre-recorded advertisement jingle played before a piano based song began to play. The group looked down mournfully at the radio, Laura sighed.
"Poor bastards." She muttered, looking away.
Robert looked up hopefully at the merchant, "Do you know where that vault is?"
"You're getting paid to keep me and my goods safe, not to go off and play hero." The merchant growled. "It's their fault for opening the doors, the could have stayed down there until the world ended and been safe."
"They already did." Arthur murmured, he threw the rest of his drumstick into the fire, suddenly not feeling very hungry.
Laura tsked, "Poor bastards." She repeated, she sat back and rested her hands to the ground and stared into the fire. The remaining meat on the bone bubbling and blackening before melting away into nothingness.
Robert sighed and turned the radio's volume down. The women had said she wouldn't speak again until the morning but he didn't want to hear any 'breaking news' about the vault's residence.
The merchant sighed, realising that he may of upset the three guards. "Look kids, if we run into any vaulties then we'll let them tag along, sound fair?"
The guards agreed, Arthur stood and returned to the window. The sleet had started to settle, it was around an inch or so thick on the ground. He frowned, he could of sworn he'd heard a distant bang.
"Turn the radio off." He commanded, Robert frowned but knew the tone of Arthur's voice, he switched the radio off. The group fell silent, they listened.
Bang bang bang
Arthur turned back to the group with alarm, the gunfire was distant but had echoed down the street, bouncing of the shop ruins. Laura and Robert got the their feet, guns in hands, Arthur took the hunting rifle from his back.
"Get the horse indoors." The merchant hissed. Laura lent against the door back into the wastes and peered out before opening it and leading a speckled horse in through the shop doors. Arthur held one door open and quickly surveyed the outside.
The merchant took the horse's reigns and stroked it's neck in an attempt to prevent it from making noise. Robert stamped the fire out and Arthur retook his place at the window, Laura pointed her assault rifle at the door.
"Come out come out where ever you are." A voice echoed down the high street.
Somehow the group became more quite, yet everything they did seemed loud, their breathing, every squeak of their leather armour. They waited.
Arthur could hear multiple footsteps now. He pulled his scarf over his face to muffle his breathing and leaned away from the boarded up window. The soft splattering sound of many pairs boots on sleet was get closer.
"Come out and play." A second, female voice called out.
"We'll find you." A third voice added.
A raider ran into view and slid on the mushy sleet, he came to a stop and twirled around, "Where are you, you fancy little git."
"Come on, we won't stain your pretty little suit." Another raider said as she came into view.
Arthur frowned, so they're looking for a vault dweller, he thought. He looked back over to Robert, who looked as though he'd come to the same conclusion.
It's like a game to them, Robert thought bitterly, A hunt, the thrill of the chase and the kill. He shook his head, not wanting to get too passionate over people he couldn't help
"Oh come on sweetie! We're just like the girlie on the radio said." There were six raiders outside the shop now, six that Arthur could see anyway. "We're just welcoming you to Southend, come out and say hi!" The raider had a shrill laugh.
In the store opposite the group's shelter came a noise, all the raider's whirled and faced it. They exchanged looks before stalking towards it. Before they could get too close the door burst open and a young man dressed in a blue and yellow jumpsuit came running out and bolted down the street. He didn't get far.
At the sound of gunfire Robert glided towards the window. The vault dweller was on the ground, his blood was giving colour to the greyish white sleet that he was sprawled on. Two of the raiders moved in, one brandishing a baseball bat with nails hammered into it, the other with a lead pipe.
Robert couldn't watch.
But he was't going to just let it happen. Before anyone else could stop him he drew his shotgun and took off out the store. Without hesitation he fired the gun into the back one of the raiders heads before the raiders noticed him, brains splattered into the street.
Before the rest of the raiders could react any further Laura kicked the door open and sprayed them with bullets, being careful to avoid Robert. The two raiders that had been stalking the vault dweller turned on Robert, both of them running at him. The caravan guard shot one of them in the chest at point blank range, Arthur killed the other, who had joined the fray.
Robert reloaded his weapon and gave cover to Laura, who was now reloading her assault rifle, having drove the other four raiders away. He and Arthur easily killed the rest.
Once the last raider was down the street was silent once more, the sleet was still falling. All that could be heard were the the moans of pain from the vault dweller. Robert was closest, he moved swiftly towards the wounded man. The raiders had shot him in the leg, belly and shoulder and was bleeding out onto the sleet, yet he still tried to scramble away when the caravan guard came near.
"N-No, please!" He chocked out. Robert froze. He was close enough to see that the man had blood dribbling from his mouth, his breathing was erratic and shallow, he was shaking all over. Robert knew the signs.
"I'm not going to hurt you," He said, holstering his shotgun, "You're okay, you're going to be okay." He lied.
The vault dweller didn't relax. He was confused, distressed and hurting badly, he became even more confused when Laura approached him and crouched down close to him.
"Hold on, we've got you." She said, inspecting his wounds. the merchant would likely make a better medic then she was, but she still wanted to see the damage.
The merchant came out on to the street and joined Arthur, both of the keeping watch.
"Stupid boy, could have been killed." The merchant grumbled.
Arthur sighed, "He's gone into shock."
The merchant blinked, "Who, R-" His eyes widened when he saw the state of the vault dweller, "Oh.." was all he could manage.
"He's not going to make it, is he?" Arthur asked quietly.
The pair of them watched Robert and Laura try to keep the vault dweller calm and as warm and comfortable as they could manage in the harsh British winds. The vault dweller was laying down now, he'd been given painkillers and sleeping drugs. The group didn't carry anything powerful enough to save him.
"No." The merchant said bluntly,
The merchant walked back into the shop and returned shortly with a thick blanket. He crouched down beside Laura and smiled kindly at the vault dweller, he didn't look over twenty, he was still so young.
"It will hurt too much to move you inside son, but this'll keep you warm." He gently put the blanket over the dying man, who lifted his still working arm up over the itchy fabric to pull it closer. With the help of the two caravan guards, the merchant tucked the blanket under the vault dweller's body.
"T-Thank you." The vault dweller managed to splutter, the merchant removed his long coat and made a makeshift pillow for the man. He thanked them again.
The sleet was falling quite heavily now, the wet snow lightly building on the blanket but was swept away by the guards. Arthur stood closer, but didn't watch the man, he considered looting the raider's bodies, but it didn't seem appropriate. Laura stroked the vault dweller's short blond hair, the merchant and Robert kept the snow from building. The merchant was half watching the man's breathing
His breaths were still shallow, hardly noticeable under the thick blanket, they were slower too. The man was asleep, either the drugs had kicked in or his body was shutting down on him. It wasn't long before he stopped breathing altogether, yet the guards and merchant stayed around him a little while longer.
"We can't just leave him here," Laura whispered, "Next to them." She gestured to the raider's corpses.
"Well we ain't gonna bury him, if that's what you're implying." The merchant grumbled.
"No, just move him." Laura replied.
Arthur moved closer to the trio, "We could put him where he was hiding." He suggested, "Where he was brave enough to try to get away."
The group silently agreed, Arthur lifted the vault dweller's body, he was lighter then the guard was expecting. He carried him to the store and found that it was once filled with many tables, chairs and booths, it used to be a fancy restaurant of some sort. Arthur gently placed the young man on a surviving red leather booth. The merchant reclaimed the blanket.
The group of four stood mournfully around the body for a few moment before the merchant turned to leave, collecting his coat on the street. Arthur soon followed, Laura and Robert left last together.
Back inside the shop the group had first taken shelter in Arthur had returned to the window and the merchant spoke quietly to his horse, but Robert just stood silently.
Laura came up next to him, after a few seconds Robert hugged her, she lightly petted his hair, he was shorter than her.
"It isn't fair." He whispered.
"I know." She replied.
Level up, New perk: There's no I in Team
Killing one of their own will only increase their attack. Loyal to the bitter end, as it should be.