The Wasteland has never been real good to me, or the people around me. My parents are a damn good example. My parents are originally from Rivet City, but me personally, has never even gone into the D.C. Ruins. Anyway, for some reason they wanted to change location. I think somehow my father found some secret that the scientists down there didn't want anyone to know about. At the time my mother was pregnant with yours truly, and they hired some merc to escort them through the ruins. To no surprise, the poor bastard didn't last long against Super Mutants and Raiders. Using the guy's weapons, they managed to get into the wastes, but I'm talking like that's a good thing.
They decided that they were headed for Megaton, seemed like a half way decent place to raise a kid. Sadly, they got to the town Springvale and were ambushed by raiders. Dad told mom to take a run for it while he emptied what was left of the ammo into the raiders. Just wasn't enough since there were about half a dozen of the mother fuckers. Mom somehow got to the front gate of Megaton, and was let in without much trouble. After a few weeks, she picked up a job Moriarty's Saloon as a waitress. Can't stand the slimy bastard to tell ya the truth, but she gets a decent pay from him, and has some damn strong booze too, so I can't really complain. The town sheriff, Lucas Simms, got mom a house right about the Brass Lantern. Quite cozy by the way.
Couple months later, I came along, and was delivered by Doc Church. Mom didn't take long to think of a name. Guess she had it picked out ever since she got to Megaton.
Shawn. After my Dad. Shawn Brewster.
I was eight years of age when I shot my first gun. It was a .32 Pistol, and man did I love it. It was Simms' side arm and it packed quite a kick. He told me that I would take ol' Stockholm's place when I got older. The sheriff sure was a hell of a guy. Kept that whole town in place, even Jericho, and that was no easy task at first.
He came in all gashed up. Church patched him up, and he decided to stay. Said the town needed some protection, even when Simms was hard at work. Wasn't long before he started getting into drunken bar fights with the locals, so Lucas had to put him in his place. Jericho didn't like that too much. So he challenged the old sheriff to a fist fight. Even though I was young, I knew who would come out the winner of the fight.
Simms took off his hat and over coat, and laid down his rifle. "Looks like I'm gonna have to put you in your place, fucking prick". Simms remained silent, and slowly put up his fist. Jericho came in a wild, almost animal like rage, but missed every single punch. Lucas waited for an opening, and it didn't take long. One power house swing from the old man took Jericho off his feet and on to the hard wooden floor. He was out cold. Everyone in the saloon was extremely shocked, but I knew that it would happen. Lucas put his equipment back on and threw Jericho over his back. Carried his drunk ass all the way back to his house. After he came out of the old raider's house, and gave me a slight grin. "Hate you had to see that boy." He then walk by me gave me a pat on the head, and went back to his house. I always looked up to the guy, and he was one hell of a role model.
A couple of years past, and I spent most of my time up in the sniper balcony with Stockholm. I think he enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed his, cause he would often talk to me like a little brother. To this day I'm not sure where the guy came from, but he was one hell of a shot. The first time I came up there, my mouth dropped to the ground when I seen him hit a Bloatfly, nearly past Springvale Elementary School. I wouldn't have been able to see it, if it wasn't for the binoculars he kept up there. Simms was a good shot, but he couldn't even hold a candle to Stocks. Simms let me keep the pistol, and I put it too good use. Any time I seen a pack of mole rats I would pump the bastards full of lead. It got to the point where Stocks barely ever had to raise his rifle. He never really said it, but I could tell that he was awfully proud of me, and really I was pretty proud too.
Of course Mom never really approved of me staying up there in danger, I guess she knew that I would have to learn someday. Every morning she'd give me a hug, and tell I better not end up like Dad. I was all she had left. I would do anything for that woman, and I know she'd do the same for me. Moriarty worked her pretty hard, and treated her like shit. I was fed up with him. I was only fourteen at the time, but I sure did know how to beat someone's ass. One night she came in with tears in her eyes, and a huge bruise over her right eye. Immediately after seeing it, I grabbed my switchblade and headed out the door. I was going to kill the son of a bitch. I busted down the door to his office, pulled out the knife, threw him down on his desk, and put the blade against his neck. "I swear to God, if you ever touch her again I'll have you wishing that you were out in the hot, hellish wastes instead of being in the same room with me." "Hold on there, and I didn't mean anything by it my boy, honest". Before I could get another word out, I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. "The bastard's not worth it boy". I turned to see Lucas with a deep, concerned look in his eye. "He hurt Mom Simms; he can't get away with that shit". His eyes quickly shifted to Moriarty and then back to me. "I'll deal with him, you go take care of your mother. If she's in rough shape, take her to Church. Don't worry boy, I won't let him anywhere near her again, that's a promise." I knew the old sheriff was good for his word, so I let him handle the situation. The next day we got her a new job at the Lantern. Easier hours, closer to home, and a lot less dick heads to deal with. The son of a bitch never even made eye contact with me or her again.
Six years pass by pretty quick. I earned a spot on the sniper balcony by then, as me and Stocks were taking shifts. He would handle the days, I would handle the nights. Gotta say I was about as good a shot as him by then. He gave me one of his custom made Hunting Rifles, and I polished that gun ever damn day while I was off duty. When I wasn't in the sniper net, I was usually making the rounds around town with Simms. Never ran into much trouble, mainly cause everyone knew men and him didn't screw around. Moria Brown was really…interesting. She was pretty much the main supplier of ammo and junk. Without her, all we'd have is a shit load of alcohol. She'd get her shipment from the Trade Caravans that made their rounds about once a week. That of course was until, they stopped coming all together. At first we thought they were just a little late, but as the weeks kept passing, we started to wonder otherwise. We started running low on everything, even booze, I didn't think that was really possible in a place like Megaton. Me and a few volunteers would have to make rounds to the wastes to go get some nasty Mole Rat meat, just to have something to eat for the night. Things were getting worse and worse by the day.
We called up a town meeting by the bomb. Moria brought up the solution of getting together a small group of people and heading up to some place up north called The Barricade. It was a small settlement formed around some old satcoms, and of course there were shit loads of barricades all around the town. She said the place was a trade haven, one trip up there would land us with all the supplies we would need for at least two or three months. The only Problem was the distance.
It seemed like the only option, so I was the first to volunteer. Jericho was soon after. Mom grabbed me and whispered in my ear. "I don't want you traveling with that homicidal lunatic in a radiation filled hell". "Well damn mom, you sure do have a nice way of putting in". She gave me a frown and smacked me on the shoulder. "I'm serious Shawn." In the back of the crowd I saw another hand rise up. It was Billy Creel. Always like the guy, one of Megaton's better people. Never gave the town trouble, although he was a pretty heavy drinker. I wish Simms or Stocks would have came, but someone had to hold down the town. Then an older man walked up to the crowd. It was Nathan, the old town Enclave fan. "I'll give a hand. I would do it for my country, so I'll do it for my town". We were forming up quite a team here. We waited a few more minutes but no other hands were raised. "We'll I guess I could always go, this adventure would go great in my new book I'm coming out with". I can also carry ammo and supplies." I was pretty surprised to see Moria so hyped up for the trip, but I hate to say it, I was pretty excited also.
