It was his worst nightmare; the Vault was dying, quickly.
A knife-thin current of cold, sterile water washed over the steel floor panels and wet the sides of Jonno's palms, pressed firmly against the ground as he pushed his aching body toward the small alcove to his left – the underside of a desk in one of the classrooms of Vault 37's Living Quarters Annex #3. It was an act partly to preserve his own safety; he could already see a hulking muscular shape passing by the window, and if not for the sheets of water cascading from the emergency sprinklers and the intermittent nature of the flashing red lights, the young man was certain the creature would have seen him. Beneath the desk, he no longer felt the pestering of chilling droplets.
A low growl echoed through the steel halls, masked completely by the blaring siren. The effect, however, was all the same: Jonno felt an unnatural scare rise from within. His knuckles, pale from soaking, whitened further, his fist tightening around the tiny switch he carried.
He could hear the plodding steps of the massive reptile, coming closer. He had never prayed before, and quite honestly was not familiar enough with any religion he'd ever heard of to know who he would be praying to, but he understood the concept and bowed his head, whispering words between short, raspy pants.
"Dear whoever you are,
Fuck you for deathclaws, and that's pretty much it."
The creature seemed to bark in response, stepping closer to the desk and placing its massive claws on the surface. It swept away a cup full of pencils and ripped a lamp away from the wall, then placed its talons on the desk and climbed atop it, kneeling forward to balance itself as it crouched, lowering its head to peek down into the area beneath the desk – Jonno sat, petrified.
Lunging upward as hard as he could, Jonno managed to lift the desk enough to cause the deathclaw's precarious lean to tip off balance, and it tumbled forward, its momentum carrying it into a frontward flip before it slammed into the ground, lying spread eagle. Jonno rolled out and stood up, flicking the knife into an attacking position before driving the knife into the center of the deathclaw's forehead – down through the skull and into its brain. It shrieked and began to twitch, slashing at Jonno, who was forced to leave the knife to avoid the razor-sharp claws, unable to remove it from the jagged hole it cut.
"No way! Haha, suck on that, bitch!" he taunted the creature as it struggled to stand; it was then that he noticed the red box mounted on the wall, with a wooden-handled fire axe displayed proudly in the flickering yellow lights lining the glass. He rushed over to the box to claim the weapon as the deathclaw stood back up, unhinging its jaw to let loose an awful roar that caused the hair on Jonno's neck to stand. Still, he powered forward, and with one gigantic swing almost completely decapitated the huge horned lizard. Its body fell limp and its enormous weight ripped the axe from Jonno's hands as it fell.
He stepped back and let out a fierce victory cry. The deathclaw's blood washed away with the incessant pelt of the sprinklers. Deciding it best not to push his luck, Jonno turned around and bolted through the door. It was then that he looked down the Vault's central hallway, toward the eternally-locked front gate, and saw each and every one of his family members lying slumped artistically against the rusting walls; further than them, he saw all of his friends, and beyond that, the people that milled about in the background for his entire life, the other Vault Dwellers. Every body was present and accounted for; Jonno appeared to be the sole survivor.
Sadness washed over him as he felt nausea squeezing his stomach and heart, and he fell to his knees, his vision blackening, vomit pouring from his mouth…
He felt an intense acidic burn fill his nostrils and sinuses and a chunky warmth around his mouth and chin, running down to his neck, and he was absolutely sick to his stomach; the worst part of it was, he knew he also had a headache coming on, and he didn't know if this feeling was going to go away any time soon.
"Snap out of it kid, you're freakin' us out," he heard, and the bright red filters over his vision lifted, revealing dry, devastated eyes. They shot back and forth pensively, making contact with those of two other men present. He remembered these men from somewhere…
"Hey," one of them said, snapping over his face. "Hey. Wake up, kid. What the fuck."
"Ho…ly…" he choked, his throat dry, most of his features covered in vomit.
"Insane stuff, right? They call it 'voodoo,'" the taller man said. The other kneeled next to Jonno and put his hand under his head, lifting it from the floor and trying to avoid getting any of the man's lunch on his hands.
"How are you feeling, man?"
"Like a fuckin' superhero," the collapsed man chuckled, spitting to the side and sitting up, rising from his sickened state to one of drunken heroism.
"Yeah? You feel like, unstoppable, right?"
"Absolutely. Let's do this."
"Okay, Jonno, we're about to, but first we gotta-"
"GO!" Jonno belted, kicking in the door to the feral ghoul-infested USS Texas – an ancient warship that would soon become the seat of a rising power in the former Texas Commonwealth. The two men glanced at one another, impressed by the wanderer's vigor.
"What the hell was he blabbin' about? Deathclaws?"
"I think it's his first time he's ever done this sort of thing."
"What? First time with chems?"
"He lived a pretty sheltered life, to say the least."
"Fuck. There's no hope for him."
They heard gunshots echoing from within the warship's hull, and realized that they'd let Jonno run off alone and unprotected. With a nod, the two entered the blackness of the ship interior, where an incessant moaning continued to rise in volume the deeper they descended…