Author's Note

This is the first piece of fanfiction I've uploaded to this site. As a result, it is a little rough around the edges and I would benefit from some critique (wouldn't we all!). I decided to write this story after starting the Fallout series again from the very beginning, with a little gem of a game almost as old as I am. Like so many others, Fallout 3 was my introduction to the series, and after playing the original titles I became aware just how shallow - if that's the correct term, the game's lore is compared to its predecessors (Damn you, Bethesda!). There's something about the Fallout universe, however, that stimulates my imagination like nothing else I've encountered. The conflicted characters, the dark satire, the strange permeating sense of melancholy; all of these themes seem to get the juices flowing. I prefer morally 'grey' characters to your straight-up good/bad karma ones, as I don't think there's much fun in an overly perfect hero or villain. As a result, I intend to try and keep to a gritty, realistic style and may change the story's rating as I progress. Now without further ado...

PROLOGUE

The gunshots echoed across the Dead City, mournful peals that rang eerily through the labyrinth of steel-framed tombs. Talius scrambled to reload his shotgun, the 12-gauge shells slick within his sweaty palms. His surroundings had frayed his nerves; he pulled the breach lever with shaking hands, scattering hot casings along the ground.

"Come on, come on!" he growled angrily. Time was growing short. The mutant freaks had entrenched themselves in the old Pumphouse, now little more than a heap of concrete supports and rubble. Vault 12 lay beneath, and then… he wasn't certain. The mission had to succeed, or everyone he loved would die.

He fed the shells into the barrels. At least Set's people had held up their end of the bargain. The Zombie gangers circled the Watershed compound, wary of crossing the mutant's sights. The street had become a kill-zone. Bullets zipped between the derelict ruins, followed by the ominous crack of a laser rifle. As he watched, one of the gangers burst into flames, disintegrated in the blink of an eye. Talius snapped the shotgun back together and cocked it, resisting the urge to vomit up his guts. Vault-sec training had never prepared him for this. Civil disputes never ended in piles of ash.

"Meatbag, cover our asses!", Garret snarled to his left. "We're getting shot to pieces!" The radiation had burnt away his humanity years before, leaving only malice and a body of decomposing flesh. All of Set's people were marked so. Talius knew the wretched creature would kill him in an instant if he displeased its master.

"Go, go now!"

He broke from cover, sighting a hulking brute crouched by the Pumphouse wall. Its massive frame jutted awkwardly out of cover, exposing its head and part of an arm. Talius pulled the trigger, feeling the shotgun buck hard against the shoulder. The mutant's head disappeared in a shower of gore. He ducked behind a rusted Corvega as bullets ricocheted in all directions. Two of the gangers nearest to him collapsed, their black blood hissing as it spattered against the tarmac. Talius shied away in revulsion.

"Push up, boys!", Garret cried. "We're eating fresh meat tonight!"

Several ghouls swarmed the Pumphouse, clutching spears and makeshift pipe-guns. In truth, they were but roaches compared to their towering foes, yet they had the greater numbers. An explosion rattled the street as one of them let off an improvised bomb. Pieces of mutant rained from the sky. Talius held his fire, the battle had grown too close to spray shotgun shells into a crowd. He slowly crept around the Corvega, seeing if there was a way clear into the compound. An insidious cloud of dust had settled over the battlefield, hindering his visibility.

Suddenly his ears detected the whoosh of propellant. Harrowing screams filled the air, compounded by a menacing orange glow. One of the ghouls stumbled past him, shrieking as the flames consumed her. The stench of her burnt flesh caught in his throat. Huge silhouettes appeared amidst the blaze, like demons twisting and creeping forth from the depths of hell. They slaughtered the Zombies with impunity, dousing them in fire for the second time. None who stood before them survived.

"Run for your lives!"

"The Muties are gonna torch us!"

Talius cursed as he collided with a fleeing ganger. They collapsed in an undignified heap, sending his shotgun sliding beneath the Corvega.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

One of the mutants locked its gaze on the ghoul sprawled by the curb side. Its orbs seemed to gleam in the firelight, reveling as it pulled a small, innocuous object from its belt.

"BYE BYE, ZOMBIE!"

Talius closed his eyes. There was a massive surge of light and heat. He was thrown into the air like a ragdoll, before falling back to earth with a sickening crunch. His vision flickered in and out as his head struck concrete. The blast rang in his eardrums, reverberating through every bone in his broken body. It took him a moment to realize a shard of metal had embedded itself in his face.

Something moved in his peripheral vision. His one good eye barely registered the shimmering figure standing before him, an angel of death under a bleak, ocher sky. A hand extended out to engulf him. Talius' last thoughts were of the Vault, and the people he'd failed.