Just did a update to the beginning. I wanted to give the introduction a little bit more pep.
It was hunting him. It must have caught his scent and was now tracking him. The Wanderer crouched in the shadow of a hill and couldn't see the creature but he could hear it. There was something unique to the way the large beasts walked that he could instinctively recognize. They were the only creatures in the wastes that he knew of that could be so massive but stalk their prey without making almost any sound. And now there was one on his tail and he better think of something fast.
The Wanderer took a half a second to scan the horizon around him for anything that could give him the advantage he would need. There! It was perfect! A rock formation that had a small crevice in the side of it that was high enough that he could use as a hid to ambush his unwelcome guest. It was down- wind of his new found prey and looked big enough to fit him. He took off at a light trot to cover the ground as quickly as possible without trying not to alert his prey to his intention and thus giving away any advantage he might have.
He hated Deathclaws. He could easily avoid every other predator in the Capital Wasteland except for a hungry Deathclaw. God forbid running into multiple of them at one time. Try taking on more than one at a time and you could kiss your ass good bye. He thought whatever God created the Deathclaw was a truly vengeful spirit and certainly seem to have something out for him today.
Despite his current predicament he was a little impressed with himself for hearing the animal before it had caught up to him but at the same time it worried him. He had only been out of the Vault for a little over a year and he had gained a lot of experience quickly but it couldn't explain some of his new found abilities. Mutations were common in the wastes but he was starting to loose count of his own. Some he could account for because of different things that had happened to him that was intentional during some of his adventures but others he believed were just from being highly irradiated a few too many times. He wondered if this might be the early stages of turning ghoul. But he had other things to worry about right then.
He trotted passed his ambush site and kept on going for about a quarter of a mile before turned to double back thus setting his trap. Climbing into his hiding spot he lightly splashed vodka behind him in an attempt to mask his scent hopefully not giving his position away. Crouching down into the hide he readied his .44 magnum pistol in left hand, his weaker hand, and then took out his combat knife with his right and waited.
The minutes ticked by and he could hear the light steps of the large lizard getting closer. Every so often he could hear the animal pausing to take a large sniff to confirm his prey's path. Please God, don't let him find me…. The steps got louder until it sounded like it was right outside but he still couldn't see it. Suddenly the footsteps stopped but he still couldn't see it. It was sniffing around like a dog that had found a meal zeroing in on him. Oh shit… could it smell him or did it smell the Vodka? The next few seconds felt like minutes as he waited to find out if his plan had failed. Sweat beaded up on his skin as the stress from his stance made his muscles ache in anticipation.
He heard two sight steps. There it was! Its' head turned away from him looking across the wasteland as if it was lost. Taking four more quick sniffs towards the ground it took a step away from him. Now was his chance! His legs catapulted him forward like a compressed spring releasing all its tension at once, making him into a human slingshot. Moving so fast the Deathclaw didn't hear his feet briefly beat against the rock or his duster flutter against the sudden rush of air as he flew through the air in its direction.
Everything felt like it was in slow motion. Around four feet from the animal he leveled his pistol at the back of the creature's neck and fired. Bang, Bang, Bang, three quick rounds puncturing its neck creating a soft spot tough its' scaly hide. He swung his knife high over his head and thrust its blade into the bullet hole as his full weight slammed into the animal. The Deathclaw made a horrendous roar that chilled the Wanderer to his core as it caught itself from falling. OH SHIT! He hadn't severed its spinal cord! Twisting the blade in the creature's neck he desperately worked to bring the animal down. The Deathclaw bucked and thrashed around all the while the Wanderer held on for dear life with his combat knife cutting and sawing at the back of its neck. Suddenly feeling a crack the animal collapsed with a thud.
Standing up he pulled his knife from its neck and letting its' blood down its blade and onto the ground. The Deathclaw whined with a gurgling sound unable to move. He had paralyzed it but hadn't killed it. He walked around to its head and leveled his large pistol at it. It looked up at him and their eyes met. A part of him felt sorry for it but the rest of him would show know such mercy. Three quick pulls of the trigger into its' temple and it was over. It was the Capital Wasteland, only the mighty could survive.
War, war never changes. It has shaped generations and even after the apocalypse it still continues to consume the lives of men. The Capital Wasteland has certainly seen its share of it. For over twenty years the Brotherhood of Steel's campaign against the Super Mutants lingered on and was only over shadowed by the invasion of the Enclave in an attempt to claim the purifier for themselves. After a swift and brutal campaign to retake the Capital Wasteland the Brotherhood was left unchallenged. However, their new found power was more of a product of the Lone Wanders intervention than a demonstration of their strength and most of them knew it. As fragile as their position was, it brought a certain amount of pride and satisfaction to the members of the Brotherhood knowing that they were doing good in the wastes. But this still hadn't solved the Super Mutant problem or stopped Raider incursions into the ruins of D.C.
No one knew this better than Noah Rider. He had spent the better part of a year fighting his way across the Capital wastes being labeled the Lone Wanderer by both his supporters and his enemies. He had cleared a great deal of the Super Mutants, raiders, and the slavers but that still hadn't stopped them completely but he had allowed the few townships a small sense of security they had not felt in decades. But he knew that it was only a matter of time before they were reinforced and came back like wolves circling a wounded animal. . He had done all this and more trying to find his father and then to achieve his parents dream.
Helping the Brotherhood secure some of the trade routes had made shipments of Aqua Pura from a now successful Project Purity a relatively safe endeavor but the private contracted caravans were starting to grip of not being paid enough and it was getting more difficult to get guards from Rivet City to make up the difference. But even if he found a way to fix that it still wouldn't be enough. The settlements were still divided and lived in their own little fiefdoms, only really venturing out to trade as a means to survive. Sure the Brotherhood and Rivet City had come together to operate Project Purity and ship purified water to the outlying settlements but the relationship was strained at best. He suspected that the two groups only were only continuing to cooperate out of a sense of obligation to the principles that his parents had abided by; that and both groups knew that neither one of them were in a position to muscle the other out.
Noah sat atop of the control tower of Rivet City slowly drinking a bottle of whiskey feeling the cold air of the wastes sweep across the ruins. His gaze was fixed on Project Purity. "What should I do now dad?" he quietly asked himself.
Under him a large metal door opened with a light squeal and out stepped a little boy no older than eleven. The Lone Wanderer recognized the boy with his unmistakable sandy colored hair. It was James Hargrave and once again he had a black eye. Stupid bitch, Noah thought to himself. The boy closed the bulky door behind him making sure that the door was securely shut, then found a spot against the railing and stared out at the wasteland. Noah couldn't help but feel sorry for the kid. He had been dealt a pretty sorry hand in life and the only silver lining was that his mother had enough sense to take refuge in Rivet City. The Lone Wanderer looked around for a second and collected up his weapons and knapsack. He then slowly edged toward the ledge of his perch and jumped down.
James didn't hear any movement or the sound of Lone Wanders duster as he glided the nine feet to the platform. The first indication the boy had that he was not alone came with a loud bang of something striking metal. James nearly jumped out of his skin. Jerking around to see the source of the sound he saw a man he instantly recognized. Dressed in a brown duster and wearing combat boots he stood no taller than five six but still seemed larger than life standing there on the landing. As he stared at the man he saw every detail that made up the Wanderer; shaggy brown hair that was pulled back into a slicked back look and a pair of loose goggles around his neck with piercing green eyes. It was obvious that it been a couple of days since the man had last shaved but he still the same man he had seen in the Rivet City market a hundred times.
Noah gave him a half-hearted grin and walked up to the railing next to James.
"So what brings you all the way up here kid?"
"I came up here so no one can find me but I see this place isn't even safe from the likes of you..."
" What'cha looking at?"
"Nothing, mostly just thinking of where I want to go after I get enough caps to leave this dump."
"And where is that?" he asked as he pulled out his half drank bottle of whiskey out of his pocket.
"Anywhere but here."
James was a smart kid, smarter than anyone gave him credit for. The Wanderer took a swig of whisky and offered the bottle to the boy. James gingerly took the bottle with his small hand and took a tiny sip of the harsh drink. It made his face wrinkle with disgust, "I don't get how my mom can stand the stuff."
"It grows on'ya. So, what about Megaton?"
"Nope, still in the Capital Wasteland. I want to get as far away from this place as I can."
"What's wrong with the Capital Wasteland? There are few places that you could make a living for yourself?"
"What am I supposed to do!? Say I go to Megaton, what am I going to do there? There are only two real jobs in the wastes, you are either a trader or security for the traders and either job really promotes a long happy life here."
Noah looked down at the boy looking for a moment argument he could make. His mind searched as he desperately looked for an answer to give to the young boy that wasn't a complete pile of crap. James looked back up at him, "You know I'm right. Even if you make it as a trader, there is almost no one to trade with. I have only seen six or seven new faces in Rivet City in the last six months and I'm counting you as one of them. Hell, you pretty much are the sole supplier to Flak and Shrapnel." James handed the bottle back to Noah. "I am going away from all this when I can get enough caps to buy a gun and a one way ticket out of here. If Three Dog isn't lying you have done a lot to help people but if you had any sense you might want to start looking for a new line of work." Noah just stood there as his gaze shifted out to the wastes. What could he say, the kid had a point, what was there in the wastes to fight for now that his parents dream had been fulfilled? They both stood there for a bit starring out at the ruins neither one saying anything.
The Lone Wanderer woke with sound of a metallic slamming sound. Rubbing his eyes he looked at his scavenged watch, 8:00 am on the dot. Why had he gotten the room next to the entrance to the market…? He should talk to Mr. Buckingham and see to getting himself a different room. But his current room had its advantages; he was never late for breakfast and it was as far away from the Muddy Rudder as he could ask for with all its comings and goings. It was nearly pitch black in his room with the only source of light coming from a single candle perched on the desk. He could see just enough to allow him to identify his boots next to his bed. The room felt cold and cut deep into him. Despite its simple construction he actually missed his house in Megaton.
Stepping out he headed to Gary's Galley for a quick meal. Finding a seat at the bar he ordered some Mirlurk cakes for breakfast. They were not the most delicious dish in the world but it was starting to grow on him. After all those years complaining about the rations in the Vault and how there was no variety it was all he could think of every time he sat down to a meal that didn't come out of a can.
The sound of the bulky door closing caught Noah's attention as he mechanically chewed the overly cooked food in his mouth. Abraham Washington looking very pristine in his pre-war casual wear walked across the empty market to the dinner and took a seat next to the Wanderer. It was still early as far as Rivet City was concerned, not even half of the shop owners had made their way to Garry's for breakfast yet. Noah didn't say anything and continued to eat his food. Mr. Washington took a quick glance at Noah's dish and ordered the same.
"So how are you doing this morning, Sonny?" Mr. Washington asked in a very chipper tone.
The Wanderer thought about it for a moment while he finished what was in his mouth. "I can't complain I guess. How goes the antiquities business?"
"Oh where do I begin! You breathed new life into my museum and I am having the time of my life cataloging and preserving the artifacts you brought me!"
"Well I'm happy to help where I can."
"You did more than help Sonny! You have brought new life to the wastes and I don't think I could imagine it without you now. You have given everyone a new sense of hope that things will change."
"Is that a fact? So, Mr. Washington, what is it that you want to see change?"
"Me!? Well, after spending so much time in the basement of this boat looking at everything we lost during the Great War I have a dream that we might see a bit of the old world again. I want to see what made this nation great."
"Really? You want to see nations stand off against each other with nuclear weapons, violence in the streets and a legion of troops trying to keep a lid on everything or maybe an overzealous government with a sense of infallible justice?" Noah quipped.
"No,no,no, that's what I meant. It was not was not the US's power or military that made it great, it was its idea of community."
No longer focused on his food he turned to Washington and said, "But the US helped destroy the world. How can you call it a great thing?"
"Sure there were rough patches but when people come together as a community, that's when times were the best. Even now you see it, hell in this very boat you see it. That's what America was about, community, family and taking care of each other. Look at the American Revolution. A few colonies declared war on England but despite their differences the colonies came together and fought as a community and in the end settled as a community. My dream is to see that again, where people don't have to hide in small settlements and can bond and grow together."
The Wanderer stared intently at the old man who just smiled in return. Despite his rough exterior Mr. Washington could see the boy's youth in his green eyes. He had seen it many times with young people a sense of being lost, confused, full of indecision and wanting direction. Even he had at one time had the same feeling before he found a sense of purpose in his life with his work.
Noah turned back to his food and like a robot inserted food into his mouth and chewed. He held a look on his face that gave away that he was deep in thought. It didn't bother Abraham none because he knew that he had just unlocked something within the young man. A few short minutes later Garry's daughter brought over his food. Abraham could understand how despite all that the Wanderer had accomplished he felt directionless. Within the last year this kid had been kicked out of his home, lost his father and any family he ever had known, fought for survival on a near daily basis, and beat some of the worst odds a man could have against him. It would overwhelm anyone else and make the strongest person question what they were doing.
A few moments later the Wanderer silently stood up collected his things and put a few caps on the counter as payment. Without stopping he turned to Mr. Washington, thanked him for the talk and made a break for the door. Abraham watched as the kid walked briskly towards the exit and left without so much as a sideways glance around the room. The Wanderer was on a mission and pitied the poor soul that got in his way. Turning back to his meal he said to himself, "Good luck kid."
Hey everyone, I am new to Fan Fiction and this site. I have to admit that I don't really write a whole lot of fiction so I might have missed some grammar corrections or basic formatting. I am going to continue to post so if you have any suggestions or comments message me with them. Thanks!