Authors note: Fallout 76 is not what I personally hoped for. It is to some extent "Fallout with Friends", but as it is not co-op, it is also "Fallout with Enemies". The marketing will tell you that "every human in the game is a real person"; but that is not the whole story. The complete version would be "every LIVE human in the game", and maybe that seems like it wouldn't make a difference ... but it does. Dead people. How interesting could that be? Oddly, and sadly, sometimes very interesting. Because the some of the most compelling and tragic stories are told this way. The inevitable and almost mocking spoiler for any of the Fallout 76 quest lines would be "she's dead". And she is. And yet. Some of these dead people ... their stories still linger.
Standard disclaimer: I do not own Fallout 76, any of its characters, or any of the other wondrous creations of Bethesda Game Studios or Bethesda Softworks. However I certainly lay claim to misspellings, mistakes, tweaks, spells and characters of my own creation, and any re-characterization you may notice. This is a work of fiction and a tribute. I make no money.
~~A dead body~~
"It's a body." Nick knelt. "She was human. Not one of those.."
"Scorched …. That's what the notes we found in the lab called them." Nora hefted her laser rifle and moved to have a better view of the street. "I still say they are just zombies by another name". After a moment she added. "Anything valuable?"
"Old money….and some changes of clothing..a holotape." Nick inserted it into his Pip-boy. "And it says..." He flinched and turned down the volume. "Mostly static, let me see what I can do."
"Take your time," Nora kept scanning the area, but after a few minutes she risked a glance at Nick, who was still kneeling over the body. She had once been a young woman. She lay where she had apparently fallen. No obvious armor. Just a short black dress, black tights, and black boots. Nora glanced back at the dress. A black dress with green markings sort of like V's.
The pattern was familiar. She'd seen it before, but stubbornly, the memory refused to come clearly.
Nick was still half-crouched on his heels, head tilted as he listened to the playback through an earplug. "Something about Raiders?" He muttered, mostly to himself, playing with the filters on his audio programs.
Raiders, thought Nora. Apparently that had been a problem, especially in the first decade after the war. There were plenty of former raider lairs. Always instantly recognizable by the gruesome decor. Hanging bodies, heads on posts. The former raiders were usually garbed in spiked armor, and wore horrific looking metallic masks. They had been people who relied on intimidation and violence. Bullies who attacked in numbers. Cowards and bullies, but granted, fairly successful ones. She was rather glad they'd not found any live raiders.
Plenty of dead bodies though; and oddly preserved. Not much in the way of rotting away, they tended to be either chewed or disintegrated down to bones or just sort of ... mummified. Mummies and zombies. And ghouls. Certainly not the world she recalled from childhood. Not all all the world that the dwellers of Vault 76 had been taught to go out and "Reclaim".
Nick muttered. "Order of … I'm not sure." After a few minutes he added "and something about a Riverside Manor. I think." He stood up. "That's all I can get out of it. Want to check it out?"
She nodded. "Yeah, I do." And looked back at the body one more time.
"Something?" Nick asked.
"No armor." Nora murmured. "That part doesn't make sense. She has a weapon; she was killed defending herself. Was she wearing some kind of protection and someone looted it?"
"Actually," Nick began slowly. "She is armored. Who ever might have looted her apparently missed it."
"You're telling me that dress is armor?"
He nodded. "Some kind of ballistic fiber; not just the dress, the whole outfit. Also there are more than a few ceramic armor plates. Very subtle stuff, higher quality than a lot of what we've seen out here." After a moment he added. "I think our CAMP synthesizers might be hard pressed to do such a good job."
Nora's eyes widened. "Okay, I definitely want to know more about this."
"Thought you might." He grinned. "Off to Riverside Manner."
Nora checked the clip on her combat rifle. "What do you think, more Scorched zombies?"
"I'd be shocked if there wasn't a welcoming committee of some kind." Nick keyed in a few commands to his Pip-Boy. "Okay, I've got a direction."
Nora stepped out of the shelter of the alley. "Directions are good, when they don't just lead to deadly cliffs. Yeah, you can find the roads on your mapping programs. Too bad they don't always actually lead anywhere. You'd think that this place was hit by multiple meteors or something."
"Where you forgetting that atom bomb explosions do more than just shed radiation?"
"Nick," Her tone was initially affectionately annoyed, but then changed. "Ghouls at 11 O'clock." She could make out two uncoordinated shambling forms; but with ghouls there were never only two of them.
"Got it."
Nora kept her gun trained on the rambling remains of humans, and heard the now familiar scraping sound of Nick lighting the "fuse" on a Moltov. Even has he called out that he was throwing a grenade, she fired a quick shot into one withered shoulder. A splatter of blood, and several piles of dirt and rags scrambled up from the remains of the road, homing like some kind of hunting pack on both the splatter of flesh, and the sound of her gunfire. She fired again, this time aiming for center mass on a bloated, burnt looking monstrosity. He'd possibly originally been a weight lifter or a line backer, but now all that was left was ... well nothing human.
Her shot staggered the oversized ghoul, knocking it back into two others.
Nick's grenade landed in the midst of them.
She fired, keeping a mental count. The first grenade had finished the scrawny ring-leader, but it took two more shots to finish the huge one. She tried to tag each of them; having learned patience the hard way. Slow them down, so Nick's grenades can burn them, don't waste too much time on any one target. After a few grenades, Nick would switch to shotgun, and finish off anything that got close.
Her job was to make sure anything that did get close was wounded. She kept both eyes open, targeting with the scope, but also scanning for more problems. It was difficult, but much better than missing the rapid approach of one of the things.
She heard the boom of Nick's shotgun and smiled to herself.
It was over in a few minutes. Eleven twisted things that had once been human lay scattered on the remains of a street.
None of them had used weapons; they only ever seemed to attack with clawed or fisted hands, or to threaten to bite. Aside from tattered clothing, some of them carried items. Often in the pocket of a garment. Sorting through this group netted the usual odd collection. A baby rattle. Three Nuka-Cola caps along with five 10 mm rounds. No guns, no weapons. Antibiotics. Anti-radiation medication. An arm from a baby doll. An uncooked, but still possibly edible piece of corn on the cob.
"Do they have memories of being human," Nick wondered aloud, "or is this what they had on them when ... whatever happened to them started happening?"
Nora hefted the corn. "This hasn't gone bad yet. It's not fresh, but it's not as old as," she gestured to the fallen remains, "it's not as old as they are. Were."
Nick frowned. "Still looks edible. Or maybe plantable." He shook his head, looking at all the bodies. "I just can't imagine them as gardners."
Nora had to chuckle at that. "No, you're right. I just don't see it."
~~An Empty Mansion~~
It took them three days of careful travel, backtracking around a group of scorched too big to risk facing, but they finally approached the clearly once lovely Riverside Manor. The recent rains meant that the former fountain in front of the building was full of brackish water. Not clean, by any means but decent enough that boiling would render it drinkable. The front of the Manor was a wide veranda with steps framed by Huge Statues of Lions; copper originally but weathered to a bluish green that Nick found attractive. So much so that he spent a good 10 minutes scanning them from several angles.
"Taking up photography?" Asked Nora finally.
"I think," Nick muttered, working with the images and his datafiles, "that I might be able to reproduce something similar with our CAMP synthesizers, if I can get enough copper."
Nora looked closer at the nearest Lion, considering.
"After all," Nick added, "If we are going to reclaim Appalachia, we might as well learn from the beauty that's left."
Nora slowly smiled. "I guess if we have all this technology, we should definitely use it."
Then checking to make sure her guns were loaded, she hopped up the steps to the front door. "Shall we see if anyone is home?"
Before Nick could answer, a hoarse voice could be heard from inside.
"Nnoot Usssss."
Scorched. Nora backed left, Nick backed right.
Two reddened skinned semi-withered creatures opened the door. From this close, Nora could clearly see the characteristic greenish growths protruding from multiple places on the scorched's bodies. One was holding a pitchfork, another a makeshift but workable small gun.
These creatures were smarter than the ghouls, in that they were able to use tools, and clearly retained some human language. But they were much slower than normal humans, and despite their clear intent to work together, their tactics weren't much more sophisticated. Basically the ones who saw or detected Nick and Nora would call out, the others would rush in, and they would get mowed down.
Rather than try any exploring, initially Nick would pause at the end of each wave of battle, and then call out as loudly as he could. After about the 5th time, there was no response.
Finally relaxing and checking ammo supplies, the took a look around the formerly lavishly appointed room.
It was Nora who saw the painting first. A dark haired woman wearing a dress with the same green V-pattern that had been on the fallen girl. However this dress was adorned with a yellow-gold ruff around the neck, and nestled there was a brilliant red jewel. Finally the memory that had been bugging her came clear.
"The Mistress of Mysteries." Nora's voice was a shocked half whisper.
"But," Nick frowned. "I thought she was just a character in a comic book."
"She was." Nora agreed. "Originally."
They stood, silently looking at the painting.
Then they looked at each other.