Most of New York was demolished in 2077. Little was left of the once great city, the Big Apple. But there were areas still intact. Like central Manhattan. A 500-kiloton nuke went off in Brooklyn Heights, obliterating Lower Manhattan. Another in Inwood, ripping up everything north of Harlem.

The large part outside the Island was further destroyed by a barrage of nukes.

But when many people are bunched together, a community forms. And thus, the subway inside the intact zone was rebuilt, trading hubs set up on the three tallest standing buildings, the Empire State Building, the Bank of America Tower, and a tower on 432 Park Avenue.

There were cities around each major subway stop, the only stops the subway usually stops on. Yet sometimes mercenaries and other tough, rich guys get the subway to stop at smaller stations.

The area is thriving-

"-until the machines took over Harlem," I finished my report to the bartender. "That's at least what I found in the book. Old thing. From before the Bots."

"You telling me someone had to fix the Sub? Hah! That thing's been running for thousands of years! Ain't nothing stopping that. Raiders, mutants, even those bots had to collapse the tunnel to stop us."

"You're overestimating the Sub. I don't think it existed a thousand years ago. The books say it existed for about 170 years before the war."

"Tsh. Whatever. You want another drink, Tom?"

"Yeah, sure. A beer. Any kind."

Beer-Bob handed me a Gwinnett lager and went to serve other customers.

I reflected on my last trip, thinking of the spot at the north end of the Center Park where I found the book. Probably written by some historian a couple of decades ago and then given to the child for keeping. Now it was laying in a box in a destroyed hut. The amount of small explosion holes and the scrap metal fragments point towards them being assaulted by bots.

"Were closing! Get a room for 10 caps or go home!" Bob shouted to all of us.

I emptied my bottle and went out towards my home.

I owned a couple of houses and was at the Lincoln Center Station at that moment. My house was a little outside the settlement.

As I was heading towards my abode, two men, mercenaries by the look of it, walked up to me and asked, "Are you Tom Roberts?"

I probably should have negated, but I had a beer or two too much and answered, "Yeah, that's me. Why?"

"Buddy, it's nothing personal, but this dude wants you dead."

"Who?"

"Secret."

"How much?"

"500 caps."

"That's a lot."

"So, you gonna out pay this dude or not."

"Yo, is 20 caps okay?"

"No."

"Then I got nothing."

I pulled out my revolver just to look down the barrel of a combat shotgun and a sniper rifle.

Suddenly the dude to the left was shot in the head and I quickly shot the other one in the face.

I turned to where the shot likely came from and saw a girl around 18 standing there with a laser rifle aimed at me and asked, "What are you doing in front of my house?"

Of course this puzzled me. Sure I haven't been here for a month but it was still my house.

"Your house? This is my house."

"I bought this house last week. I got the contract, keys and all."

Then it dawned on me.

"That fucking son of a bitch! Sold my fucking house."

I rummaged through the mercenaries pockets and found a note.

Don't let Tom Roberts get into the Lincoln House 3. The house is sold to another. Bounty is 500 caps.

-G

"Yup, the bastard sold my house."

"The house dealer? Shady practice."

We looked at each other awkwardly for a while, and then I proposed, "Since we both own the house, how about we go in. You can keep it most of the time. I'm gonna go adventuring tomorrow anyway."

"Sure." Her voice was still unsure.

I unlocked the door with my key and saw a much cleaner and better organized version of my old house.

"Looks great," I remarked.

"Thanks."

Then I noticed I didn't know her name.

"I don't know your name or anything."

"I'm Analia Gardner. I sell vegetable from my little farm."

"Tom Roberts, adventurer, at your service."

The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence.

"I'll go make some food," Analia said just as I said, "I'll get rid of the bodies."

An hour later we were eating at the small table, once again in uncomfortable silence. I chose to initiate discussion.

"How did you learn to shoot. I mean as a farmer."

"I wish I didn't have to. When you have to fight off raiders, you have to be able to shoot. If I had known that, maybe, maybe my parents would still be alive."

She broke down in tears. I didn't know what to do to comfort her so I just put my arm around her shoulder.

"They died because I didn't know how to shoot."

Her tears fell into her soup as she tried to calm down.

"Hey, your shooting saved my life."

It didn't help much.

After some time she managed to calm down.

"Sorry for that."

"It's fine, Analia. Everyone needs to vent sometimes."

"I… uhh… I need something to distract me. Farming doesn't make enough money for a good lifestyle and I need a little more to distract me. Can… uhh… I… come with you?"

Her voice got quieter towards the end.

"Adventuring is hard work. You need to carry enough food and water, medical supplies and know the map well enough to find a place to stay. You don't always get fresh food. Are you sure?"

"Ummm… You know what? I need to rethink this."

And it was silent again.

"Your soup is very good."

Analia just hummed in approval.

Well… This is my attempt at a Fallout Fanfic. I chose Manhattan because it's a good layout for a story and there isn't any lore I could find about the place so I can take some freedom in ideas. I don't live in Manhattan or in the USA for that matter so I'm going off mostly maps.

I got the nuke impact areas from here: /nukemap/?t=5c11febc4dfeb3c2bd34b1634b6b30ba

If the link doesn't work, google nukemap and Alex Wellerstein's nukemap should be the first. Then set the payload to 500 kilotons and place the bombs.

Hope you like the story. Give feedback if you feel like it.

¬AghiTron