Prologue

It was rare that a sunrise looked so beautiful these days, what with all the dust and fallout ash shrouding the skies. But this morning was a peaceful one, there was only the slightest of breezes stirring the dust and dead trees, the horizon was cloudless. The rising sun cast long shadows across the dusty ground and it hued the sky with shades of red and orange. To Mona, it was a rare jewel of a day. She sat on the packed earth that encircled her small shack of a home, leaning against its tin wall. She gazed at the view through a pair of dark, reflective aviator sunglasses, bathing in the warm glow of the sun. She sighed contently.

"Enjoyin' the sunrise, huh?" The old, weathered voice came out of nowhere, just like the man it belonged to.

"Jeez, Rich you could give someone a bit of warning before ya show up," Mona said, chuckling. She yawned and stretched, then got to her feet, "Not like it matters anyway, I have to get to work. Those Brahmin ain't gonna milk themselves."

Rich nodded knowingly. "Yep, always got work ta do in this town. Anyway, I just came by ta let ya know that the trade caravan just arrived, and they got some of that 'Lurk meat you like so much."

Mona grinned and nodded, "Thanks Rich."

"Just bein' a friendly neighbor," Rich said, then with nothing more to add he turned and walked into town. In reality, it wasn't much of a town, just two rows of ramshackle buildings situated on either side of a cracked, paved road, with a barbed wire and wooden fence surrounding it. Mona's shack was the only one that didn't directly border the road. Instead it sat apart of the rest of the buildings, next to the Brahmin corral.

Mona leaned against the corral fence and looked into the eyes of one of the Brahmin. She said to it, "Ya'll can wait a minute, I wanna get me some of that 'Lurk meat." She turned and jogged off onto the main road of Cochran Hill.

By now most of the townsfolk were out and about, tending to their daily chores and business. One woman, the weird and quirky Moonflower was setting up her "organic water" stand at the shoulder of the road just outside her house. She was humming aimlessly, filling dirty plastic bottles with green tinted water. No one knew exactly what she put in it to give it its color, but people bought it anyway because it was relatively clean and, well, it was water. In an age like this everyone needed water.

The trader was sitting on an old bench just outside Cochran's front gates, playing a mournful tune on an old harmonica. His large, worn supply pack sat to his left. Mona recognized him immediately, due in part to the blue jumpsuit he wore, with the numbers 303 scribed in yellow on its back. He was the only survivor of the raid on Vault 303 many years ago, and that's what he called himself, 303. He stood up when he saw Mona approaching.

"Hello there again Miss," he said spreading his arms wide, as he always did when a customer approached. Mona flashed a quick smile.

"I hear ya got some 'Lurk meat, how much you want for three pounds?" Mona asked, digging in one of the pockets of her overalls for her bottle caps.

303 scratched his chin as though in deep thought, "Well for any other settler I'd charge 60 caps, but you're a special customer, so how about 50 ca--"

303's eyes widened suddenly, his mouth hung open limp. He clutched at his left breast, blood seeped from between his fingers. In the morning light Mona could see the glint of an arrow head protruding from the bloody fabric of his jumpsuit.

The trader fell back on the bench and sagged against his bag, revealing the menacing group of Raiders about 20 yards behind him. Mona locked wide eyes with one of them, a tall slender man who wore a crooked, sadistic grin. He winked at her, then notched another arrow onto his sleek, metal hunter's bow. Mona didn't hesitate for a moment.

She turned on her heels and ran back into the town, kicking up dust behind her. She could feel the adrenalin pumping through her veins. She came to a sudden halt in the middle of town and everyone else froze as well. Mona struggled to take control of her voice, she wanted to scream but all she managed was a croak, "Raiders."

It was enough to stir panic in the people. There were at first soft gasps, as everyone turned to face the front gates. The towns toughest men and women drew their guns, mostly hunting rifles, while the other ducked into their homes. Then the Raiders appeared. They approached the front gates in a large cluster, Mona counted about 16 of them, mostly men. She noticed that all of them wielded a wooden baseball bat as their side arm. Their leader, who wore an armored baseball uniform, was the only one who carried a bow. Every living thing stood quiet for what felt like an eternity to Mona, then the leader grinned that crooked grin, raised his bow and released the string.

There was a loud buzzing sound, followed by a grunt and a dull thud as Cormac McGrady, the town's arms dealer, fell to the ground with an arrow shaft sticking out of his face. Mona shrieked. All hell broke loose.

The Raiders then charged, whooping and laughing as they fired upon the citizens of Cochran Hill. Before Mona could react, someone pushed her down behind Moonflower's water stand. She looked up to see Rich standing over her, firing at the Raiders, occasionally taking cover behind the stand. Moonflower was also huddled with Mona, her face was wet.

Rich was yelling something at the two of them, but over the din of the shooting and screaming, Mona could barely make it out. Mona shouted back, "What!?"

Rich fired a round, then ducked down and grabbed Mona's shoulder, "I said, when I give ya the signal, run!" Mona nodded, understanding, then grabbed Moonflower's hand. She stared up at Rich, waiting. She wondered if she could make it to her shack, to grab her shotgun and maybe some supplies. But she knew it was hopeless, her home was across and down the road, she'd be too vulnerable.

"Go! Now!" Rich hollered at them, waving his arm. Mona didn't need to be told twice. She dashed in between two of the buildings, pulling Moonflower behind her. They could hurdle the fence behind the two shacks, and run off into the hills, maybe hide in the nearby cemetery. But just as Mona cleared came out of the short alleyway she was suddenly struck by a sudden, blinding pain in her nose and face. The blow knocked her on her back, and her fall brought Moonflower down with her. Mona groaned, tasting blood in her mouth and opened her eyes. Through years, she could see the baseball uniform clad leader of the Raiders, standing over her, grinning.

He raised his baseball bat, slick with blood, and struck Moonflower in the stomach. Mona winced as Moonflower cried out in pain.

"Please," she could hear Moonflower pleading, until the woman's soft sobs stopped all together. The Raider turned back to Mona.

"Don't, please," Mona choked out.

He grinned, wider, more crooked, "Now why would I do that?"

"I have... caps." Mona offered and weakly spit out blood.

The Raider laughed, "Sorry, honey, but the Sluggers don't need no caps." He raised his bat once more and swung down. Mona closed her eyes, shielded her head. Another flash of white, and then darkness.

The rest of the town began to burn around her in its death throes as the Raiders conquered.

The Bluegrass Wasteland