Author's notes: Here is my story it takes place in a post fallout 3 time frame but is not currently in any locations used in the games but there are references. So Enjoy

Prologue

"Dust. Of all the places I've been dust seems to be the only constant. Whether I'm in the New California Republic, the Capitol Wasteland or in some backwash hillbilly marsh there always seems to be dust. And now it's on my food, wonderful. But how else would I want to enjoy a two hundred year old freeze dried Salisbury steak."

"Quit or bitchin' Suzy." Was the only response John had for the grizzled old man sitting across the fire from him. The two men, who had stopped for the night in what seemed to be the remnants of an abandoned two story house in what a long time ago must have been a nice neighborhood in a suburb south of Cincinnati. The building had only two full walls left and enough parts of others to keep the building standing. And there in the corner were the two men, sitting around a small fire, big enough for some heat but not so big that it was giving of a whole lot of light as they would prefer not to be seen. "You could just kill yourself and save me your whining."

"I suppose, but than I wouldn't be able to complain about anything, or give you a headache." Remarked Chris LeMark a formed resident of a small but safe settlement in what used to be upstate New York. Now a man of older than fifty his hair was going grey and wrinkles were beginning to take over his face. It was impressive to nearly every civilized person that he meets to hear his stories about how he has survived as long as he has traveling from the east coast to the west. How he'd met a girl in Vault City, how he'd been thrown out of a Casino or two in New Vegas and how by his own deffiniton he had "seen it all". But he's getting old and tired and is head to the settlement in the Capitol Wasteland called Rivet City where his younger sister has a home and a small family. Which is how he met John Bailey in a settlement called Skidmark north of the ruins of Tulsa in the the former state of Oklahoma. He had stopped at an inn, if you could even call it that. John a white man about five foot ten in his early twenties happened be at the same 'inn' and they got to talking with the helpful encouragement of some alcohol. Said he was from a settlement south of what used to be Chicago and when asked how he got by, his only answer was day by day. They discovered that they where both going east they decided to travel together so that they would have a better chance to make it there at least alive.

"Well once we get to Rivet City I guess we will go our separate ways. And it should only take a few more weeks of walking, a month at the most and we will be at the outskirts of D.C. and then it shouldn't be to far, you see your family, and I can find a decent meal a good place to fix my shit."

"Fix your shit?"

"My gear, you should know nothing lasts long out here and the last thing I need is to be killed by my own rifle."

"Makes sense."

"How much water do you have lef..." At that moment John stopped as he thought he heard someone or at least something cock a a assault rifle probably chinese and it was very, very close. He pulled back his coat and reached for his 10mm pistol.

"What?" Chris asked, "Did you hear..." but before his could finish a bullet ripped though the side of his head pushing the former contents out the opposing side in a horrific splash of dark red blood. Immediately John moved up on to his knee and fired three quick shots at where he had seen the mussel flash in the dark, hearing a scream and a body hit the ground. He then turned to his right looking for another target, just in time to see the butt end of a rifle flying directly towards his face. When the rifle hit him, he dropped to the ground and began to teeter on the edge of consciousness. He heard a mans voice, "Hey Boss, Spike's dead so this one's friend. Heh, looks like he'll have a splitting headache in the morning."

"No, he won't... and your a fucking moron."

"Wow just trying to lighten the mood... Shit."

"Well, check em for anything good and pack up, I'll check this one for weapons, and tie him up, we're heading back to camp."

Chapter One: It's All Just a Game

John woke up the next morning with the worst headache he had ever had, and he thought to himself puzzled and confused, what happened? As he opened his eyes he noticed he was in a different place to where he remembered being, and he was tied to a chair at the feet with his hands tied to his sides. Across the room was a man maybe in his thirties with a longer brown hair and a scruffy dirty beard, dressed in what at first sight looked like a old worn set of leather amour with an extra chest plate worn over his midsection. As he was looking around the man sitting across from him noticed he was awake and stood up. "So your awake." the man said as he neared John.

"So it seems" John said, "And who are you."

"I don't think you are in any position to be asking the questions" the man said very close to John face with his downright offensive breath.

"Now I know I'm a prisoner and all, but could you do me a favor?"John asked hoping for a chance to be heard out.

"Let me guess." the stinky man said, "you want me to tell you where your friend is?"

"No." John remarked sharply, "Can you not talk so close to my face? Your breath really really reeeally stinks." With that smart ass comment the stinky man promptly stuck him in the side of the head where he had already been hit the night before.

"Hows that smell... bitch!"

"First nice comeback, second I've been hit harder by girls!" John yell back mockingly at his captor. He would have continued to badger him but he noticed the smelly, scruffy and now angry man was picking up what seemed to be a pipe made of steel or some other type of grey metal. "Hey hey hey hey calm down I didn't know kidnappers were so sensitive, it's my first time."

"Well I had a proposition for you but now I not sure if your the right kind of person I need. So instead I think I'm going to sell you to the next slavers I see."

"Oh, that not fair." John said now intrigued by this man's offer also now considering his situation.

"Well last evening I noticed that your a pretty good shot. Seeing how you shot one of my men dead, at 35 yards... in the dark." The man informed him, "There's a group of mercenaries up in Cincinnati that get there kicks watching people have shootouts. Old fashioned cowboy shootouts, if you know what I mean."

"Really." John said disappointed now with an idea of what the deal was.

"Yes, but first I need a a trial run. Which will solve my problems regardless of the outcome."

"How so?" John asked.

"Well, you win I know you'll be up for the task. You lose however and you're dead and I get a new pair of boots. In a couple minutes I'll give you your 10mm pistol and two bullets."

"Wow your serious. What stops me from killing you?" John inquired with a very dark smirk.

"Seven armed guards, I'm the Boss. Well lets go." The Boss told him.

After the boss untied him they walked out of the room which was part of some larger building which was probably and office complex or something of that sort. As they walked into the former parking lot there was a group of eight men all in rag tag armor composed of pieces left over from the previous war against the chinese.

"Well lets start this shit up!" The boss yelled to his band of mercenaries.

"So who will I be killing" John inquired quite confidently.

"The brother of guy you killed last night." The boss replied with a smirk. As they approached the group one man was standing apart from all the others stretching out his arms behind his back and to the sides. He was wearing the chest plate from a piece of old combat armor, which could be why the boss had been smiling as it was now clear to John that he wasn't getting a fair fight. Once they finally arrived at the group the mercenaries all looked John up and down seemingly not impressed. After all he was not too tall, clearly malnourished and had a good bump and gash over his right eye which was partially covered by his dirty dark brown hair which was long enough to cover his eyes if it wasn't pushed out of the way, 'hell' they thought he can't even grow a full beard.

"You think your a big man killing my brother?" the man who had been stretching yelled over at John who was just handed his 10mm pistol which felt light. But he checked the chamber and was relieved when there was a round visible. "What nothing to say. Your lucky the Boss is a good sport because I would of made sure you died real slow!" The man yelled towards John, 'this guy sure is taking his bothers death to heart,' he thought 'he's so flustered he probably will miss his first shot.' Then he looked over at the noticeably distraught man and saw that he didn't have a pistol at his side he had a 10mm submachine gun, so it didn't really matter if he hit the mark at first anyway.

"Well fellas when your ready." The Boss reminded the participants now standing, facing each other about twenty yards apart.

Then it got quiet, uncomfortably quiet. While all the mercenaries knew life out here in the wastes was cheap, it was still an odd feeling to know someone is about to die right in front of you. John with his hand on his pistol in his holster on his right hip, and his opponent following suit across at his side of the the soon to be deadly dance. John quickly surveyed the group of mercenaries to his right on last time noticing the 'Boss' as everyone seemed to call him was right up front smiling eager to watch a man die. Then all of a sudden John noticed his opponent starting to pull his automatic weapon from his side. Without even time to think John pull his gun from his holster leveled it at his hip and fired a shot towards his enemy. A microsecond later the bullet struck the man in the neck as it passed easily trough and off into the distance followed closely by a misty pink and red cloud of blood.

Time, which seemed to be going slow then quickly caught back up with itself as the now shot man fell to the ground with his gun pointed out towards they empty wastes. Finally pulling his trigger bullets sprayed needlessly into nothing till only the empty clicking of the firing mechanism trying to push out bullets that just weren't there, and the futile gurgling John's latest victim where the only sounds to be heard.

Quickly John not wasting a second turned to his right leveled his weapon with the Boss's head and pull the trigger once again but this time the only reaction was an empty click and the slide locking back into an open position.

"Wow kid, you got some skill and you sure as hell aren't short on balls." The Boss noted having just watched John's failed attempt on his life. "I can already tell... your gonna make us some money." He said while signaling to one of his lackeys who then walked up to John and clubbed in the side of the head with the butt end of his rifle. Then as he was laying on the ground drifting into unconsciousness he heard the Boss say, "Good thing you didn't actually give him two bullets, or I'd have been fucked." Which gave John something to laugh about before surrendering to the Blackness.