A/N: Hello everyone! It's good to get back to writing after such a long absence and I do apologise for my lack of posting. As some of you might have guessed this is a repost of Wasteland Travels, where I have just cleaned up some errors, but I will continue to write more in the near future if time permits. Thanks again for all the support I have had and I hope you enjoy the coming chapters.

"No soul is desolate, as long as there is a human being

for whom it can feel trust and reverence"

T.S Eliot

Streaks of red and orange painted the sky, reaching far in to the distant hills of the capital wasteland. The surroundings were deceptively quiet, and the wanderer had learned long ago that to trust the wastes to the point where you needn't be concerned for your safety was dangerous, suicidal even. Rocks scattered as she trudged across the barren land, avoiding the giant puddles of irradiated water which were common along the western side of the forgotten capital.

Sam wiped her forehead clear of the dust that had settled there from her long travel, blonde hair pulled back in to her usual ponytail. Coming this far west hadn't been the first thing she had wanted to do. After cleaning out the Lincoln memorial, she had grown tired of the decrepit, stark buildings and wanted a change of scenery. After 2 days R+R in Megaton she decided to head out again to do something to stave off the boredom and stumbled upon the remains of 2 outcast members and their robot with a heavily damaged Mr Gutsy. She had taken it out and stashed the looted equipment in a nearby abandoned tent at an old abandoned military outpost. She was on her way to retrieve it, that asshole Casdin paid good caps for power armour, and the two laser rifles would fetch a good price in Rivet City.

After making sure she was rid of dust she turned to her short, four legged companion. "You ok buddy?"

He looked up at her, a lop-sided grin on his canine face as he panted. Bringing him along had been a good idea. After being stuck in her house for the better part of 2 weeks while she was away, he'd been happy to get out and follow her again. She leant down and patted him fondly on the head. "Don't worry we'll stop soon, we haven't had a break in a while. Might have to bunk down for the night somewhere, suns starting to go down and I don't want to be caught out here in the dark".

He licked her hand and she smiled, before resuming following her. She wiped her hand on her armour and readjusted her grip on her combat shotgun. Her favourite weapon was always a first choice as she skirted an old farmhouse teeming with raiders on the way here. Dogmeat had whimpered once but followed her faithfully all the same.

Although her reason for coming this way was concrete, she wasn't enthusiastic and for good reason. Smith Casey's Garage which was still a mile or so off. The garage itself held no ill memory, but what lay beneath it, Vault 112 was not somewhere she was prepared to go so soon.

She reached a verge, pulled out for her scoped .44 magnum and glassed the valley below her with her blue eyes. Apart from the bubbling of the puddles and a family of mole rats heading south, nothing indicated any immediate danger and she was content to take a break while light still hung in the air. After diving in to her pack she retrieved 2 bottles of purified water, a battered dog bowl, a box of sugar bombs and a roll of cloth with some smoked mole rat meat in it.

"Here you go boy, I packed your favourite." She tossed the meat to him and while he tore it in to eatable chunks she filled his bowl with some water.

Once satisfied she sat against a raised rock, rested her shotgun across her legs and drank deep from her own water. Normally Galaxy radio would be floating in the air to fill the silence, but things were content and Sam was unwilling to draw any unwanted attention to them. She had also been avoiding listening to Three Dog gush about her actions. Flattering as it was, when travelling she preferred to remain incognito. Plus, she hated being called '101' or the "Lone Wanderer".

"I have a goddamn name already" she had told him on her last travel to the station.

"Relax kid. You're a legend out here! So what if we give you a nickname, it doesn't matter if you're a beacon of hope to all those cats out there. You're a hero and everyone knows about the great Lone Wanderer!" he replied, fixing her with a grin, as he sat in his chair next to the console as "Maybe" poured out to every corner of the wasteland with a radio nearby.

She sighed and shoved a handful of sugar bombs in her mouth. But sometimes I don't want to be a hero. I just want to stop being the "legend" or "last, best hope of humanity" and be just plain old Sam. 2 years out of the vault and she wanted to be an independent 21 year old. But as she knew, it was a very rare occurrence that you got what you wanted out in this broken land.

She sat thinking, watching Dogmeat finish his food and start scratching his ears. I feel like two different people.

Emptying her bottle, she picked up their trash and packed it away in her equipment bag. Experience alone had taught her that leaving no evidence that you had ever existed was worthwhile enough to take note of. No evidence, no tracks, no unwanted followers. Talon Company were fond of tracking her wherever she went and even though she welcomed an opportunity to scav their armour, she didn't welcome wasting her ammo on their sorry asses. She had no sympathy for them and they had non for her. It was a mutual hatred. She put a hand on her stomach, glad for the break.

Hoisting her bag on to her shoulders, Dogmeat stood waiting for orders. "Let's go buddy."

He had not set on paw forward and when she looked, he was ridged, hackles raise and a snarl on his face, pointed towards the ridge. Sam immediately dropped to a crouch. Shotgun in hand she didn't move an inch, waiting for any sound of movement. Dogmeat was never wrong. Something was definitely there.

After a few minutes she heard something. Something metallic and loud was coming from the northwest. It wasn't slow enough to be a Robobrain or any type of robot she had even seen. It was fast, and as she wracked her brain the only thing that sprung to mind was a Vertibird, but the sound was too close to the ground to be one of those.

The object must have stopped quite close by because she didn't hear it rumble by, but it continued to shudder, possibly a few yards from where she was hiding. She grabbed Dogmeat by the scruff and pulled him next to her, pushing him in to a lying position yet he continued to growl quietly.

The sound of Boots hit the ground somewhere in front of her, but because of the risen rock she couldn't see anything 'Damn'. The metallic object choked for a moment before going silent and whoever it was walking around. A lighter ignited and she began to smell smoke.

About 5 minutes later and whatever it was hadn't moved on. Dogmeat was squirming to get free and Sam was getting tired of waiting. The light was weaning and travelling in the dark in these parts was not wise at all. She was about to announce herself (she wasn't stupid enough to just stand up, perfect chance to have your head blown in 3 different directions) when she heard something that made her blood run cold. The shuddering rasp and quick thudding of claws along the ground.

Her eyes widened in horror. 'Deathclaws! Why the hell are they coming this far south? They usually stay north of here! Shit!'

"Dogmeat stay." She whispered to the canine who whimpered in response trying to tug away from her. "Dogmeat. I said stay!' she hissed in his ear. His tail immediately dropped between his legs. Sam hated telling him off but for his own safety he had to stay hidden. A goddamn rocket launcher barely scratched a Deathclaw never mind a scruffy dog. She'd never forgive herself if something happened to him.

Whoever had stopped in front of her had just noticed the giant death sentence running towards them and gave a strangled yell. So it's a guy' Sam mused. She was torn from her observation by the explosion of gunfire from over the ridge bullets few over the rocks and thudded in to them. Ducking behind them for cover she checked her Combat Shotgun was loaded.

Peeking over the rock she saw a brown haired man no older then her stumbling backward. A few shots had landed in the chest of the Deathclaw but not enough to slow it down. She watched in horror as it brought its claw back in an arch. It swiped quickly and cleanly through the air. At the last second the man leapt back, but not enough. The Claws tore clean through his armour; the man stumbled back and collapsed clutching at the slashes on his left arm, crying out in pain.

Sam launched herself forward firing her Shotgun rapidly. It ripped a chunk out of the beasts' side. The ugly beast didn't seem to notice as it let out an ear piercing howl and turned on her.

'Shit!'

She rolled left as its foot stomped on where her head had been seconds before. She took off at a sprint south, dashing over the bubbling puddles. She wasn't thinking, not one coherent thought beyond the word 'Fuck!' or 'shit!' she looked behind her and yelped. The Deathclaw bared its teeth and screeched, covering way more ground then she was. She was desperate. She looked around willing god to give her something. Anything!

'There!'

A few yards ahead a dip in the rocks, a trench of some kind. 'It's my only shot' she clawed at her emergency pack where she kept essential equipment. 'Come on!' finally she grasped her fingers around a square object and wrenched it out. Punching the button in she dropped it behind her and fell unceremoniously in to the shallow trench, throwing her hands over her ears.

BOOOOM!

An earth shattering explosion rocked the trench dislodging large chunks of rocks one of which hit her just about the left eye. She collapsed on her back totally disorientated. The ringing in her ears made her deaf and the blood in her eyes obscured her vision. Waiting a few minutes, and breathing deep she pulled herself up and wiped her eyes, looking at the blood and grime now spotting on her arm. She looked up at the darkened sky regaining her breath, waiting for her mind to start making sense as she ambled up the side of her hiding place.

The Deathclaw's right arm and leg were missing, blown off in a shower of blood and bone, but it still dragged itself along the floor towards her. She didn't waste time in ending its suffering when she fired a cartridge in to its skull. 'That Bottle-cap mine was the best thousand caps I've ever spend' she mused leaving the massive beast behind.

She vaguely remembered where she had run from and walked calmly, but attentively back to where she had left her dog and full equipment bag.

The light, which was disappearing in the horizon, forced her to turn her Pip-boy light on. She almost walked head on in to the remains of a motorcycle. But the Pip-boy reflected upon shiny metal, not rusted. The bike wasn't damaged beyond repair like the skeletal carcasses rusting up the roads of the wastes. It had a leather seat stitched with Brahmin skin. The rubber wheels were not punctured but looked almost new if a bit scuffed. The paint job was peeling and the engine looked scrapped together, literally from old metal. The Deathclaw had thrown it aside whilst chasing her and the engine was torn apart. On the side a tally was scratched numbering 11. She has no idea what it meant, but the bike must have been the noise she heard when the man... she froze.

'aw. Fuck.'