[Disclaimer: I do not Own Fallout 3 or the characters created by the creators of Fallout 3, not doing this for money or other personal gain stuff etc etc. I Do however own, Ingrid and the other OC's in this fanfiction. Yay me, not.]
ESCAPE! Wedgies.
Ingrid staggered down the hill, collapsing behind a rock outcrop, the entrance to Vault 101 lay behind her, the sun lay in front of her, burning into her squinting eyes, her own heart throbbing in her ears as her leg continued to dribble blood, Thankfully the guard had missed with his gun, obviously even they were concerned about the Overseer's insane desire for her to be punished for something her father had done. She rubbed her eyes hurriedly and yanked her boots off, her socks knotting together as she turned them into a makeshift bandage. She wiped the blood onto her jumpsuit and leant back against the rock, eyes closing, her ears straining to pick up any pursuing footsteps. But with all the propaganda the Overseer brainwashed everyone with, it wasn't surprising they were afraid of the outside world. Ingrid pulled her flaming red-orange hair back, tucking it behind her ears, it was messy and unkempt, Amata had insisted there wasn't time for anything except escaping. Ingrid's green-blue eyes finally opened again allowing her to peer out into the sun-baked landscape, she could seen an old water-tower a little way down the hill and what was obviously the ruins of a town beyond that. After a few more minutes of self-pity about being thrown out into this barren landscape she pushed herself to her feet, her injured calf protesting vehemently. She bashfully pulled a wedgie out, painfully aware that she'd picked the only pair of too-small underwear in her cupboard the night before. She glanced down at herself, the blue jumpsuit hugging her curves almost immodestly, had that been another perverse idea from the Overseer? She sighed and begrudgingly began her way down the hill, picking a path between the rocky outcrops, if her luck held there might be someone selling clothes in that Megaton place she'd heard about. No, if her luck held out she'd have her clothes torn from her and be forced to work as a hooker, she'd need a million four leaf clovers to make her luck change for the better.
Ingrid sulked as she walked down the craggy broken pavement, the sun was too hot, it burnt her pale skin as she walked, she was sweating and beginning to smell bad, and she'd only been outside for ten minutes. She cursed her jumpsuit, stupid material didn't breath, her sock-less feet were starting to get blisters. She sighed and followed the road around, the Megaton sign pointing to what looked like a giant iron wall. I took her a moment to realise that the wall curved around and even longer for her confused brain to recognise and old robot guarding the main gates.
"Have yourself a pleasant day!" It intoned in a grating metallic voice as she approached, "Welcome to Megaton."
"Please!" came another voice. Ingrid turned to see a man propped against a group of rocks, "Do you have any water?" the beggar asked.
Ingrid's temper suddenly boiled over, SHE was being begged from? It should be the other way round! "I don't have any stinking water!" she snapped suddenly, "Do I look like I'm carrying any water? Where the fuck would I hide it you dick-bag?"
The beggar fell silent suddenly as she stormed past him and pushed against the enormous iron gate.
Ingrid slipped through the inner gate and was about to lay down in the cool welcoming shade when someone spoke.
"Well well, what do we have here? Another new face."
Ingrid groaned and looked up, the hat was the first thing that caught her attention, sitting atop the dark skinned man's head like some bad reminiscence from a wild west movie, his eyes were fixed on her.
"I guess you're another one from the vault huh?" the duster wearing man muttered. He paused, "I'm Lucas Simms, Sheriff of this town."
"Ingrid." she muttered in reply.
"You ought to get your leg looked at, the Doc's clinic is right down there." he muttered pointing towards a small ramshackle hut on stilts. Ingrid followed the building slowly and realized it wasn't one ramshackle hut but a dozen or more of them, all connected together with ramps and steps and pipes. "Just keep your nose clean and we'll get along fine Ingrid." the Sheriff muttered threateningly before stalking off on his patrol.
Ingrid rolled her eyes, "The first town I come to is run by a wacko with a Jesse Jane fetish." she murmured stepping slowly towards the shack, wincing in pain every time her injured calf had to take her body weight. It wasn't until Ingrid walked past a would-be settler did she realise just how much weight she had. She'd never been fat, her genetics had given her just the right proportions to be pretty, not necessarily smoking, but pretty at least. Nicely curving hips and backside and a modest chest had always made her feel as though she was alright looking but as the anorexic settler strode past on her stilt-like legs with her board-flat body Ingrid suddenly felt enormous, next to this skeletal woman she was practically a white whale. Ingrid self-consciously put a hand to her stomach, there was only the tiniest bit of softness there, her exercise schedule had always kept her toned. But now even that tiny bit of softness felt like it was metres thick. As the skeleton continued past every bit of self-belief Ingrid had built up over the past years vanished, the fear from puberty suddenly returning, she bit her lip and glanced at the doorway to the clinic, tiny voices in the back of her head started talking about how her enormous backside would get her stuck. Ingrid took a breath and tried to push the thoughts to the back of her head, she tried forcibly reminding herself that she was the normal one here and everyone else was just starving. But even with the positive reinforcement she still felt every tiny wobble from her thighs, every tiny jiggle from her breasts. The voices in the back of her head suddenly took on the form of her childhood tormentors, the voices seemed to feed on her own fears.
"There all fixed." The Doctor snapped, "Now I'm going to get back to the important patients.
Ingrid handed him the remains of her bottle caps and stepped back outside, the door cutting off his murmuring about 'pampered vault prats' and 'useless women'. She sighed and stared at the unexploded Warhead that rested in a puddle of water in the centre of the town, a ranting old coot was standing in the pool preaching to passersby, some had stopped to listen to him, others simply walked by uninterested. Why on earth would anyone build a town, and that was using the word loosely, around a nuke? She shrugged her shoulders and stepped back down the ramp, the medicine the doctor had given her had worked wonders, she only felt the occasional twinge from her leg and he'd used better bandages, her feet were relieved to finally have something soft between them and her hard leather boots. The redhead made a beeline for the bar and sat down next to a pretty blonde woman, the blonde's clothes were dirty and ragged but she smiled as Ingrid sat down.
"Hey, you're new." the blonde said smiling.
Ingrid sighed, "Can we skip the 'you're new' talk?"
The blonde nodded, "I guess everyone says that."
Ingrid nodded.
"Are you planning on leaving again soon?"
Another nod, followed by an unsure shrug.
The blonde smiled, "When you leave next could you run an errand for me? I'll pay of course."
Ingrid sighed, she did need more caps, "You're lucky I don't have any caps otherwise I'd be refusing outright."
The blonde nodded, "I'd go myself but..." her voice trailed off.
"Too dangerous?" Ingrid suggested.
The blonde nodded.
Ingrid rested her head against the bar, "What do you need done?"
"I need a letter delivered to the West's in Arefu?"
Ingrid muttered something before replying properly, "Give me ammo and a drink and I'll be your message girl."
The blonde smiled awkwardly and dropped a pack of 10mm bullets onto the table, "I thought you might need these." she paused again and slid a bottle of purified water over next to the bullets, "My name's Lucy West by the way."
"Charmed, I'm sure." Ingrid muttered.
Ingrid muttered a greeting to Simms as she left.
"Leaving so soon?" he asked curiously.
"Better to leave than to sit here waiting for a bomb to explode, you guys were stupid to build your town around an undetonated nuke."
"Well, we needed help building the town and the Church was only just getting started then." he shrugged, "It hasn't hurt anybody yet, we're just hoping it never will."
"Why don't you get someone to disarm it?" Ingrid asked glancing back to the metal bulb of death in the centre of the town.
"Nobody around here knows enough about bombs." Lucas shrugged, "Do you know anybody who could? I'd offer a reward for anyone who could ensure it'd never go off."
Ingrid's lips twitched, she'd always been good with her hands, "What's the reward?"
"One hundred caps for anyone who can disarm that thing."
Ingrid's lips twitched again, "Make it two hundred and you got yourself a deal."
Lucas raised his eyebrows, "You're going to disarm it?"
Ingrid shrugged, "Look at it this way, if I fuck it up we'll be dead before we know what's happening."
Lucas nodded, "If you can disarm it great, if you don't know what you're doing don't touch it though."
Ingrid ignored his warning and started back down the hill, might as well take a look before she left for Arefu.
The redhead crouched beside the bomb and gingerly put a screwdriver to the control panel, carefully removing the fixings. She'd borrowed the screwdriver from Lucy, the blonde was the only person other than Simms that was game enough to speak to her. The scraping of metal against metal made the whole business fell all the more ominous, if she fucked this up she wouldn't live to regret it. The plate finally came free, hinging open at one side to allow her into the main section, there was a mass of complicated wires and small computer chips. She thought back to the books she'd read as a child and what Jonas had always said about bombs.
'In the old bombs the detonation cord was always green, cut the green wire and the bomb won't go off.'
The only problem was that all the wires seemed to be charred on the outside, she couldn't tell which was green. Gingerly she began twisting them, hoping there was some colour left on them somewhere. She moved and shivered as water splashed into her boots.
Finally she found something. Where the wires were soldered to the board there were colours etched on. .Y..G Now the big question was, would G be green or Gr? Ingrid began tracing the wires back to their respective connections, tugging on each to find out where it goes. There was a snap and the Gr cable popped out of its solder. Ingrid froze. The bomb whined lightly, a slow metallic beep that pierced the ears.
"Fuck." Ingrid muttered, she waited rigidly for the explosion whilst the beep continued.
Then it died out, as though someone had turned the volume off. The red light pulsing on board suddenly died too.
Ingrid blinked, "I defused it?" she muttered, questioning herself. Hastily she stepped back afraid that if she stayed too long the bomb might change it's mind.
"Well well, so you did it." Lucas voiced over her shoulder.
Ingrid jumped at the voice and spun around, she was silent for a moment, "I-I guess I did."
Lucas smiled, "You're okay kid." he said holding out a sack of bottle caps, "Here's payment." he paused, "And a deed to the empty house."
"Deed?" Ingrid asked quizzically.
"Sure, we could use someone helpful like you around this place." he smiled under his beard, "If you want to decorate the place you should go up and see Moira at Craterside Supplies, she's got a bunch of stuff."
Ingrid nodded slowly, "I'll think about it." she paused, "Do you have a tailor around this place?" she asked suddenly remembering her earlier desire to get a new set of clothes.
Lucas shook his head, "A trader just left, he was selling Armour and such, perhaps you should try following him."
"Where was he going?"
"I think he mentioned Arefu." Lucas shrugged, "Anyway I have to get back to my rounds."
Ingrid nodded and started back towards the main door, she tied the bottle caps bag to her belt and made sure the water and ammunition was safely tucked inside the satchel Lucy had lent her.
Ingrid sighed and put the lip of the water bottle to her mouth, taking a quick swig before returning it to the satchel. She'd been walking for a while now, the sun was biting into her skin even in the late afternoon and her wedgie had returned yet again. She was desperately hoping she'd come across the trader soon, and even more desperately hoping he'd have some sort of undergarment as well as Armour. She didn't like the barren wastelands as much as she'd hoped she might, no matter how exciting this new world was she still didn't like it that much. At least being on her own let her think instead of being berated with awful conversation. She never had meshed well with people, even Amata had told her she was a cold person on more than one occasion. Then again, Ingrid was pretty sure Amata was a closet lesbian who like her, but Ingrid had known to be wrong about that sort of thing before. And being scolded for calling someone homosexual was not the most pleasant experience of her life, come to think of it, most of her time in the vault was unpleasant. She glanced around the unnaturally empty wastes, this place wasn't particularly excellent either come to think of it.
"Howdy Stranger!" a cheery voice called.
Ingrid almost screamed but she managed to stop herself, the man was standing with his pack Brahmin behind a truck.
"You really should pay more attention to your surroundings." the trader muttered tugging on his dirty cap, "I'm-"
"Let's skip the introductions." Ingrid snapped glancing over the trader he was wearing some sort of simple combat Armour, metal plates strapped across his chest, stomach and thighs. He was grubby and dirty like everybody in this place. So much dirt they all seemed to look somewhat alike.
The trader nodded slowly, "Fair enough."
"What do you sell?"
"I sell the finest Armour in the wastes."
Ingrid nodded, "This is probably a stupid question but do you have underwear as well?"
The trader looked taken aback, "I do have some long-johns..." his voice trailed off.
"I'll take them and some sort of Armour." Ingrid said quickly.
"What sort of Armour were you chasing?" the trader asked, "And what's your price range?"
"I have a hundred caps and I'll trade you this rare vault 101 jumpsuit."
The trader rummaged through the pack on the Brahmin, Ingrid cautiously took in the beasts twin headed anatomy, the creature looked disgusting, radiation certainly hadn't done it's breeds evolution many favours. A bundle of Armour and cloth landed at Ingrid's feet with a soft clink.
She sighed and undid the bag of caps from her belt, she handed it over almost begrudginly, "Is there anywhere I can change?" she asked suddenly, the trader motioning for her to give up the jumpsuit she was wearing.
"The truck trailer is empty." he said quietly as he pulled something else from the pack, he dropped it on top of her other clothes, "I'll throw in the cap as well."
"Thanks." Ingrid muttered moving towards the back of the truck. She clambered into the trailer and stripped off quickly, removing her too-small bottoms and stuffing them into the up-until-now arbitrary pocket on the long-johns. She pulled the Armour over the top, tightening the leather belts before rolling up the jumpsuit and pulling the semi-clean baseball cap over her messy red hair. 'At least it'll keep my hair in place.' she thought tucking the tips of her hair into the neck of her long-johns forming a barrier between the back of her neck and the sun's despicable heat. She dropped back onto the dusty ground and handed the jumpsuit over to the trader. He glanced it over and smiled.
"Excellent condition." he said handing a small bag of caps to her, "Your change, thirty-four caps."
"Thanks." Ingrid grumbled before walking away. It was strange how much satisfaction complete freedom from recurring wedgie's gave you.
[AUTHORZ NOTE: A pretty boring chapter I guess, but none the less it gets better, or I hope it does anyways. In the next chapter our strapping young druggo, i mean, heroine, meets up with an enclave soldier, the wrong end of a combat shotgun and a nice murder scene.]