War. War never changes. It's an ugly truth that humanity reminded itself of when the bombs fell. We blasted ourselves back to the Stone Age in only a few destructive hours. They said that the cockroach was the only thing on earth that would survive. They were wrong. Humanity stumbled into the apocalypse, limping and with a bloodied nose. We rose from the ashes of nuclear fire, emerging from great underground vaults to start anew. Those first pioneers set out into a dangerous world with no idea what lay in store for them.
It's been two-hundred years since the atomic bomb tore the earth apart. Humanity is slowly rebuilding in the face of impossible odds. It's been two-hundred years since the bombs fell. Still, humanity hasn't learned its lesson. People squabble and kill over minuscule amounts of food and water. Those who do not learn from their history are doomed to repeat it. War is coming. Mark my words, it's coming for us all.
Unknown Wasteland Explorer, Unknown Date
"What we got Sam?" Asked a man. He raised the scope of his rifle to his eye and eyed the house that was the target of today's scavenging run. They'd moved into the pre-war neighbourhood a week before, and managed to clear out most of the houses. Unfortunately, a radiation storm had rolled in before they could finish the job.
The battered old radio he spoke into crackled to life. "I'm not seeing any movement." The girl's voice barely came through the radio, nearly drowned out by the sound of static. "Peggy's radio's on the fritz. Don't know if you can hear her, but she's moving in for a closer look."
The man cursed and shifted his scope, sighting the thin blonde woman who was walking towards the house. "Peg." He said, hoping that she could hear him. She kept walking, her radio clearly not working. "Shit, Sam. Tell her to get back here. The door is open. It wasn't open last week, who knows what could be in there."
"You sure Marc?" Sam asked sceptically. "Storm coulda blown it open."
Marc sighed and brought his radio up to his face. "Yes darling, I'm sure. Better safe than sorry."
There was a pause, then the woman's voice again. "Peggy, call it off. Marc says there's something wrong." Another pause. "I don't think she can hear us Marc. She isn't answering.
He swore, and settled back into his position. "Hopefully it's just my imagination." He said idly. Patty stepped inside the house, pistol raised. Marc lost sight of her, then refocused his aim on the front windows. He saw the shape of a man stand up. Then he heard the gunshot.
Sam's voice came through the radio as a thin crackle. Barely registering the noise, Marc was on his feet and sprinting towards the house. He barged through the front door, and took in the scene. Peggy was locked in a one-armed grip, with a ten millimetre pistol held to the side of her head. Marc's rifle was up and aimed at the owner of the pistol.
"Drop the weapon." The man growled. "Or I blow a hole in this bitch's head and watch her brains pour out."
Marc gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the rifle. "You don't walk out of here if you do that, mate." He took a step to his side, attempting to get a better shot at the man's head.
In return, the man tightened his grip around Peggy's neck. "Try me, asshole. I've had a really really really bad day, and I'm starting to think I don't care about my own life." Marc took another step. "One more step…" He trailed off threateningly.
Sam broke the standoff by barging in the front door. The dark skinned woman didn't waste any time, bringing up her pistol and training it on the man's head. "You're outnumbered. Let her go, and maybe you live."
"Master Nate? Asked a synthesized British voice. A Mr. Handy unit floated into the living room, nonchalantly observing the hostage situation. "Oh! It is you Master Nate! That means you're only two-hundred years late for dinner." The robot floated over to the man, ignoring the three other people in the room. "My, you must be famished. I'll go whip something up for you. Will Miss Nora be joining us as well? Or are we entertaining these guests alone today?"
A stunned silence descended on the room. The man released Peggy, then walked slowly back to his chair. He sat down, breaking the silence. "Codsworth..." He started. "Nora's dead. Shaun is gone." He smiled grimly. "And I doubt that any of the food here is still edible." He hefted the bottle of scotch beside his chair and took a swig from it. "Just get me another damn bottle." He said.
Marc patted Peggy on the back. "Fix your fucking radio." He said, turning to face Nate. "And if you ever do something that stupid again, don't expect me to play hero and come running." He sat down on the couch gingerly, regarding the man with curiosity.
"Sorry about all that mess." Nate said. "It's just been a long day, and I wasn't expecting someone to come through my front door." He looked up at him and smiled apologetically. "Scotch?" He asked.
Marc took the bottle, and cautiously sniffed at it. He raised an eyebrow, then threw caution to the wind. "How fucking old is that?" He asked.
Nate shrugged, taking another sip. "No clue. I bought it back in '77, whenever the hell that was." He took another drink, then offered the bottle up to Sam. "Before all this." He said, motioning to the state of the room.
She took it gingerly, looking cautiously at Marc. "Marc… Are you sure?" She asked. "We were about to shoot the guy because he had Peggy hostage. Now we're gonna drink with him?"
Marc shrugged. "He offered scotch." He said bluntly.
"But he doesn't strike you as odd?" She looked at Nate, who raised an eyebrow at her. "He could be bullshit."
"I am sitting right here." Nate said. "I'm not bullshit, just really unlucky. Or really lucky." He sighed to himself. "I can't decide if it's been good or bad luck."
"The fuck are you on about?" Sam asked.
He smiled back at her. "I was born on September twenty-second, twenty-forty-five." He ignored her outburst, continuing with his story. "I used to be a soldier. I used to have a family." He paused in horror as the reality of his situation sunk in. "Oh God. Ma… Pa… Everyone…"
Marc grabbed the scotch off Sam and held it out to Nate. He took the bottle and drained the remaining liquor. Nate stood up and paced over to his front window. He stared out of it, deep in thought. "I was right here." He said. "Right fucking here."
Marc stood up. "I know it's difficult, but we're still confused over here. Think you could tell us what's going on?"
He turned, dropping the empty bottle of scotch as he did. "I went into a vault. They put us in these pods and froze us. I remember…" He trailed off, swallowing the lump forming in his throat. "I remember waking up, and seeing my wife's pod opening. These people took my son, then killed her." He held his head in his hands, preferring not to look his guests in the face. "I fell back asleep. I don't know how long it's been, or where my son was taken." He looked up at Sam, voice quivering. "Everyone I know… Everything I know… It's all dead. I don't know what to do, or where to start looking for my son."
Marc spoke up, taking charge. "Well, I don't know about finding your son, but you could come with us. We're with a settlement not far from here. I wouldn't ask so quickly, but frankly we need all the people we can get."
"What are you getting at?" Nate asked.
"Just come with us." Marc answered. "We'll take care of you, set you up with some work, a clean bed. It's not much, but it's a damn sight better than what most people got." The room fell into silence as Nate considered the proposal.
Codsworth broke the silence. "My apologies for taking so long sir. Will your whiskey suffice?"
Nate frowned, then took the bottle. "It'll have to." He said. "I've got a feeling it's the last drink I'm gonna have for a long time."
"So you're with us?" Marc asked.
Nate nodded slowly. "At least until I figure out where to go." He turned to his butler. "Are you coming Codsworth?" He asked.
"Oh absolutely. A road trip sounds like such fun." The robot answered in a cheery tone. "Will we be leaving with your guests?"
Nate nodded. "Yeah, they said they were a part of a settlement not far from here." He looked at Marc. "What was it called?"
"It's Concord. I'm sure you remember where that is." He said.
Nate nodded, the looked back at Codsworth. "Did anyone break into the house while I was gone?" He asked.
"Not at all sir, I think you'll find that everything is in order." The Mr. Handy answered. "All the keys are exactly where you left them."
Nate looked at the three people in his home, then tossed Marc the bottle of whiskey. "Save some for me. I'm gonna grab a few things."
Marc caught the bottle and studied the label. He snorted, the. Good a drink from it and passed it to Sam. "Peg, go with him. Help him out, and try not to get taken hostage again." He said with a laugh. Nate walked out of the room, followed by the blonde.
Nate walked into the kitchen, and immediately began stripping the items out of a pair of drawers. He pulled a full key ring out of the drawer and shook them obnoxiously. Peggy shook her head, rolling her eyes as she did so. "Hey." Nate said, grabbing her attention. "I'm sorry I shot at you. And took you prisoner. And threatened to shoot you… And called you a bitch."
She half-smirked. "I am a bitch, so at least you did one thing right."
"Well if it's any consolation, I wasn't gonna shoot you." Nate said. "Couldn't have, even if I'd wanted to."
"And why is that?" Peggy asked.
"No more bullets." Laughed Nate. "That warning shot was all I had." He shook his head. "Fucking used all I had on a horde of giant cockroaches." He shrugged. "Didn't know that they were a thing now."
"Been a thing since before I was born." She said. "Must've mutated right after the war." She pointed at the key ring. "What are we getting?"
He smiled. "A few things. If we're lucky then my family's survival kits should still be in the basement." He pushed the key into the lock and turned it. Instinctively, he flipped the light switch. "Fucking damnit." He paused and rubbed the side of his temple. "This ain't gonna be easy…" He said absentmindedly.
"No, it won't." Peggy said. "You'll never really get over it. I can't imagine what it would be like, to lose everything you know like that." He pulled a flashlight out of her pack and handed it to him. "Here, take my spare."
Nate clicked on the flashlight. "Thanks." He swept the light across the room and tested it on a safe in the corner of the room. "There you are…" He stepped up to the safe and spun the tumbler. "Sweet… The hell was the combination again…" He mumbled to himself. "Aha!" He shouted. The safe swung open to reveal a pistol, a pair of cases of ammunition, and a pile of cash. Nate picked up one of the bags at the side of the safe and stuffed the cash into it. He checked the safety on the pistol and put it into the bag as well. He put the two cases of ammo in on top of the pistol and closed the bag.
He hefted one bag over his shoulder and tossed another one to Peggy. "There ya go, same spot I left it." She rifled through the bag, taking stock of what's inside. "Filled with the stuff all the stuff your standard survival kit should be."
He motioned for Peggy to go back upstairs, then followed her up. She stormed into the living room, followed closely behind by Nate. She grabbed the bottle off Marc and took a drink. She held it out to Nate. "Gotta admit, you're an asshole." She said. "But you got a damn good taste in drinks."
Hello dear readers, welcome to chapter one of The Fall. To anyone who's read my work before, thank you. To all the new readers, welcome! Stick around, because I think we'll have a lot of fun here.