Fallout lives.
'This life we lead is only one among many, but the only one we will ever know"
The wind swelled across the wasteland as a lone soul walked his way down a broken highway, the sound of his pip-boy radio echoing out into the vast space of nothing around him. His trench coat was tattered and ripped in places, it flowed graciously in the wind as he stopped to observe his surrounding, the sun was setting behind the mountains to the north, there were pools of putrid water next to the road and the dark clouds coming from the east signalled the coming of a storm, made even worse by the radiation lying throughout the area, something he knew all too well.
As the sun set and the darkness swept its way over the sky, Lucas sat down on an old rusty pre war chair and leaned back watching the rain hammer down onto the ground, he knew it was toxic even for him; Lucas turned and looked at the fire he set on the ground, sheltered by the ruins of an old house that had been decimated by the shockwaves from the first bombs to fall. As he sat thinking about where he was going, he heard a slight crunching noise and the sound of footsteps behind him, suddenly a group of three raiders burst out of the dark behind him and raised their guns, " don't move, We got you now fucker!" they shouted with an insane hysteria to their voices, classic raider talk.
One of the raiders pointed and old assault rifle at Lucas's head and grinned "get up and turn around slowly", Lucas raised his arms and stood up from his chair, as he turned to face the trio of madmen there expressions changed from a hysterical excitement to a mix of shock and horror as a set of glowing gold eyes stared back at them under the shadow of Lucas's hood. One of the raiders raised a pistol to Lucas's head, "what the fuck are you," he said with a horrified shudder in his voice, "what? Are you big bad raider scared of a lowly wastelander like me, if you think you're so tuff try and kill me then" Lucas replied with a ghoulish husk to his voice. Before they could react he reached forwards and snatched the assault rifle out of the raiders hands with lightning speed and just as quickly jabbed the same raider in the throat with the butt of the gun, breaking his neck, then turned and pointed the rifle at the next raider and squeezed the trigger, the following barrage of shots decimating the poor raiders un-armoured chest, Lucas turned and aimed the rifle at the last raider, he had just finished drawing his pistol.
Lucas aimed the rifle precisely between the raiders eyes, as he did the same of Lucas, the raider grinned but as he pulled the trigger of his pistol only a subtle 'click' followed, his gun had jammed, he dropped it on the ground and raised his hands in surrender, Lucas smiled and pulled the trigger on the old rusted assault rifle in his hands and like the raider only a 'click' followed, his gun had run out of ammo, the raider gave a sadistic smile as he pulled a knife from his pelt, " your all out of luck it seems" he snickered. The raider took a swing at Lucas's chest, but he simply side stepped the knife swing and punched the raider square in the face, knocking him out cold, Lucas leaned over to see the now unconscious raider, "stay down" he said with the same ghoulish rasp to his voice as before, but this time with a hint of frustration in it, he's dealt with raiders to many times to bother showing any sympathy or mercy, they deserved none... because they gave none.
Before the sun had risen, Lucas continued his track across the wasteland; this dry desolate place was once a thriving countryside, but now only irradiated dust and echoes, as he followed the same road as he had before, going no ware, he suddenly heard a beeping noise coming from his pip boy, Lucas raised his left arm to see what it was, he pressed the button that lead to the radio display of all localised frequencies, he was surprised to see a new one appear on the display. it was entitled "enclave radio", he paused for a second thinking about what the words meant, they couldn't be alive after all these years, after all this time, it had to be old loping broadcast, yes that's what it was just another echo from the past, like so many things, just echoes of the past.
Lucas continued his track across the wastes when he heard another beep from his pip-boy, he looked at it, this time another radio station had come up on the display, it was called "galaxy news radio" Lucas smiled and tuned into the channel, an old pre-war song started playing. Lucas stoped and listened to the tunes that played, they brought back memories of a long time ago, a very long time ago.
Lucas was sitting in an old ram shack bar, full of drunken, sick, waste Landers just trying to survive, and at this point Lucas was just like them but a little different, he looked at his hands and stared at the flaking skin and slowly rotting flesh that remained, his face wasn't any better, the only distinguishable mark that made him any different to all the other ghouls in this wasteland was a long scar down one side of his face, a reminder of a life from long gone. The bartender stepped over to him and handed over a glass of whisky, "you look like you need it son, don't worry it's on the house", Lucas looked up and saw the barkeeps face covered in dirt and grime, Lucas smiled, "you can say that again, and thanks by the way," Lucas said in a raspy husked voice, he grasped the glass and drank it quickly, the whisky did little to ease the pain he was in, but it was a start.
Suddenly out of the crowd a group of men walked forwards towards Lucas, he saw them but didn't bother moving, the men stop next to him and frowned in disgust at Luca's apparently rotting body, "we don't appreciate your kind in here stealing our booze ghoul, get out now or we'll have to throw you out and we really don't want to get blood on our hand" one of them said with a deeply southern accent.
The bartender stepped out from behind the bench, "this man has done nothing wrong, he's just trying to survive like all of us" he said with a concerning tone, one of the men pulled a pistol out from the holster on his belt and pointed it at the barman's face. "This doesn't concern you, it's just between him and us" he said threateningly. Lucas stood up and faced the three bigots; he crossed his arms and tilted his head "you boys sure you want to ride this train?" Lucas said with a threatening tone, the southerner leaned forwards and smiled sadistically at Lucas, "Chu chu zombie".
The three men lunged at Lucas and tried to grab him from all sides, Lucas knocked the first two bigots down by simply dogging there simple grabbing lunges, the third one standing to one side of Lucas pulled out his pistol and fired a shot into Lucas's chest, but the round just bounced off Lucas's pristine combat armour under his great coat. With that Lucas slammed his fist into the man's chest, he could feel his ribs crack under the pressure of the devastating blow, before the others could react Lucas had pulled out his 10mm pistol and aimed it square at the other two bigots. The two men staggered in amassment at what had just occurred before their eyes, the barman pulled an old pump shotgun out from under his bench and pointed it at the two trouble makers, the two men paused for a second and looked at each other and as quickly as they had entered they holstered their guns and dragged their crippled comrade out the old rusted door of the bar.
As things started to settle down and the people began to talk again one of the barmaids's walked over to Lucas who was sitting at his usual spot by the bar, "thanks for kicking those guys out, it's sad how horrible people can be out here" Lucas looked up and gave a brief smile back, "girl you got no idea" Lucas said quietly as he thought back to the things he had done and the things he had seen, things no one should ever have to endure. The music emitting from Lucas's pip-boy was echoing throughout the bar as people went about their business, an eco of a different time, a different world, just like Lucas.