I never knew life would come to this, that, the world would consume itself in such a wretched fashion. But here we are, here I am, in this God forbidden wreckage of everything that once was beautiful, what we used to call Boston, but is now just the spacious rubble of a dream.

Blood is slowly seeping through my field suit, seems to be coming from my leg. Slight pain in my shoulder and faint dizziness is clouding my vision. I can see flames in front of me, the hot air scorching my throat. Traces of gunfire in the distance. I can't feel my rifle, where am I? Oil and dirt cover my hands as I crawl among debris. As my vision blurs I fall over on my back. Staring at the polluted sky all I can feel my head pounding. The veins running through me pulse wildly. My eyes..

"Long, deep, sirens echo in the cabin, orange flashes highlight the contours of praying faces. I swallow two Rad-X tablets. Lavan takes two pills as and closes her eyes while grabbing his hand. Dennison fastens his pistols and rifle to his chest and salutes me one last time. Eagle sounds off over the wire, "It's been a pleasure squad, in case I don't see you all on the ground I will see y'all on the other side. Hold fast." The craft rocks hard from side to side and all lights go out, I take one last look at the spinning world outside my window, close my eyes, and squeeze Lavan's hand."

A wild dog licks my face as I come back from a daze. My trench coat is muddy and wet as I lay in a crater filled with warm fuel. The sun's glory fades over the horizon while the wind sweeps through the wastes. As I stumble around bits of wreckage I locate my rifle. My Pip Boy battery has been fried and I have no recollection of where I may be. I raise my rifle and scan in every direction for signs of movement and life. Nothing. My field map has been badly burned but from what I remember there is an abandoned Brotherhood outpost some miles northwest that may have some supplies. I stumble to my knees and feel around my jacket, pulling out the only remaining article, a note.

"Don't forget the wine tonight babe! I also have a surprise for you when the party is over,

love you.. –Lavan"

I tuck the note away and cover my eyes, trying to remember what just happened. The only things lying around me are debris from the transport and my damaged flight chair. Traces of flaming wreckage can be made out in the near distance but no sign of anyone. I dig my rifle in the ground and pull myself to my feet. The morning is cold, the day is young, and my team is missing. I make my way southeast, with a prayer and hope tucked away inside.

Miles between standing trees, heavy clouds and birds maneuver the confused sky. Blood is slowly dripping from my leg. Scattered clouds and the sun trace my shadow before me as I walk along a sunken road. Hunger tears me up inside, but nearby is a small batch of brown vegetation. Stumbling quickly ahead I dig at the root of a small plant as light raindrops begin to blow about in a medium wind. Frustrated, I beat at the dirt after discovering the root has decayed. Upon the breath of the world as the winds kick up my trench coat flutters to the side and I'm bit with the frigid cold. I pick up my travel pack, sling it across my back and take a sip from my pouch. As I walk around slowly I spot another batch of other plants peeking through the snow and make my way over with eagerness. I awkwardly fall to the ground and feel the texture of the green leaves. A sudden sound of an engine in the distance startles me and I sharpen my eye on the road.

An old Ford Mustang sputters around a corner, slowly coasting as if it were dying from exhaustion. In an instant I swing a long barrel Dragnov rifle from over my shoulder and line up the sights on the slowly approaching vehicle. In the front seat are four figures, two small two large. I take a few steps near a road barrier for a better angle and while grabbing my leg, now cramping up. Once perched up on the barrier I fix the sights and notice an old woman driving with an armed man in the passenger side. I duck below the barrier and load my magazine into the rifle, cock it back, and say a quick prayer before slowly rising to peek over. The truck rolls by as I follow it with my weapon until it passes me completely. As I take a deep sigh of relief I see flashing red brake lights and an old man wearing body armor peeks out from the bed of the truck. I raise my rifle quickly and the man throws his arms up.

"Peace!" the old man yells

"We're peaceful, please!"

I slowly limp while approaching the now stopped truck with my rifle still aimed.

"This is the first vehicle I've seen in a week, this road is controlled by the highwaymen, where are you coming from?"

In the front seat of the truck the armed soldier pulls out a pistol and rolls onto the ground outside of the truck.

"Rifle down! Rifle down!"

I swing my aim towards the soldier.

"I'm an ERO, Wendelle Somn! And if you truly come in peace you will lower your weapon!"

"I'm an escort from the Tower District, we're on the same side! Show me your badge!"

Wendelle reaches under his shirt, rifle steadied with one arm, pulls out an old faded badge and throws it near the truck.

"We both lower our weapons and talk."

"Deal" The escort says.

The old man now has his hands in his head holding his grey hair tightly. The old woman at the steering wheel rises from underneath the dashboard and the two soldiers approach each other with weapons lowered.

"You lost lone ranger?" asks the soldier. "You know this isn't the place to be for the solo superhero type."

Wendelle stares the soldier down and forms a slight grin on his face.

"The Lone Ranger, I remember that story growing up, funny that you brought that to my attention. Well son, I'm here trying to track down my team, and you so happened to cross my path."

"Well, I'm no friend of yours yet but I can gladly use a partner if you would like a ride."

"Where are you all heading?"

"Classified until I get to know you partner, I don't know what side of the river you're on right now."

"See that badge, earned it right before the bombs dropped protecting soft skinned playboys like your ass."

"Sorry sir, The name's Mason sir, I'm a solo unit of the 16th scout regiment, deployed to-"

"I know what you were deployed for, I had some of your men assigned to my detail when I was doing research in the mountains."

"Really? Which ones did-"

"We will discuss this all at a later time, right now we need to get off the road. Now what are you doing with these civilians."

"Escort detail sir, to the nearby town for family care. These two are married and the others are grandchildren of theirs. They are family of some brass back in New Plymouth. I've been assigned to take the back roads to the town."

"Well I think the Hyans have caught on to these tactics, it isn't safe at all."

"Well then I need to get going soon, there isn't much time to waste."

Looking down Mason sees Wendelle's bloody jacket.

"Sir you're bleeding! What happened?"

"I fell from the sky, and that's why I am here."

"I can't leave you like this, I have some medicine in the truck. I will be right back."

Mason runs off quickly to the car and starts rummaging around in the backseat. The two children stand next to their grandmother while the old man argues with Mason. I turn around and survey the tree lines slowly, as the bare branches sway in the nuclear breeze. As I pull out my canteen a shot rings out and knocks it out of my hands. I drop to the floor and roll off to the side of the road.

"Mason take cover!"

Mason closes the truck doors and runs over to the side of the road while returning fire from his automatic rifle. The old woman drives off to the side and slams into a ditch. The old man picks up a pistol and begins firing from the back of the truck into every direction.

"Sir, we have to get them out of here!"

"There's no cover, too much risk, let's take these fuckers out before they surround us. Now go left and pop smoke, I'll cover you, go, now!"

Mason grabs his automatic rifle and sprays in a semicircle before dashing to the left while snow kicks up around him from bullet fire. I reach behind my back, grab a grenade, kiss it, pull the pin and launch it in the direction of fire. Mason drops to the ground, pops white smoke and reloads his weapon. A group of Hyan Raiders separate on the ridge above moving in opposite directions. I roll to my right and shoot one through the neck. A Hyan returns fire from the middle and strikes the snow in front of me. Mason pulls up from behind a tree and strikes the man down. The next moment Mason is flanked and tackled to the ground by a third Hyan wrestling his weapon out of his hands. I run around the quiet smoke searching for mason, only hearing only leaves crushing in the struggle.

"Mason that you?!"

A moment passes.

"Sir!"

I pace quickly through surrounding smoke with my rifle raised. A Hyan appears above me and I quickly dispatch him as I move towards the sounds.

Mason and the Hyan both wrestle and scratch at each other in heated melee combat. The Hyan soldier grabs Mason's throat and Mason launches him off with a push of his knee. As the Hyan jumps back up he grabs a pistol and begins to raise it when suddenly a bullet passes through his skull and he drops flat. Mason looks back while panting heavily to see me walk up slowly, bleeding from my side.

"Fucking Hyenas. Are you ok?"

"Yes sir. Thank you."

"Shut up with that sir shit right now, let's go check on the family."

As we walk back towards the car they see a Hyan scout laid out in front of the car in a pool of blood and quickly rush over to check on the family inside. As I open the door the child is holding a 9mm pistol while laying over the grandmother in protection.

"I used to hunt with my papa."

"And a good shot you are little lady," I say. "Now let's get you all out of here. Mason, take them to their destination."

"But you're in no condition to be by yourself."

"Don't worry about me, just give me those bandages and solution and I will be fine."

"Sir, wait, I just received a transmission one of our scouts is a few miles away north, maybe he can help you."

"Thank you son, I'll find him."

"He's established a sniper position in an old radio tower at the top of a hill, I will let him know you're coming."

"Perfect, now make sure they get home. Take these grenades."

"Thank you sir, pleasure doing business."

Mason stands at attention, salutes and enters the driver side of the truck. I walk over, bend over slowly and pick up my badge off the ground, dust it off and take off up the ridge. Looking back I see the truck dart off leaving behind a trail of smoke and the old man in the back waving. Turning north I could make out the tower amongst a field of decaying livestock and burnt trees. Ravens pass over the pale sky and the sun rays dance through the sparse clouds. Warmth beads on my wound as I wrap it in bandages. The alcohol stings the cuts as if a liquid knife was pressed against it and I clinch my fists. The ground is soft from the constant rains and I trudge through the mush toward the tower. Fatigued from the crash I sit down and lean against a dead Brahmin to close my eyes and rest.

'Sunlight, luminous, bright and piercing shards pass through the sides of the craft as it begins to spin. Dennsion holds his head down and his eyes are closed, pilots chatter over the com but I can't make out a word. I just remember training. Fasten weapons, fasten pack, secure canteens, tighten grips, duck head, and hold on. Lavan's hand slips from my hand and I quickly look over to her smiling at me through all of the clamor. I reach out for her hand and she just shakes her head 'no'.

Orange lights, sunlight and blue skies, pieces of the plane fall all around us, sirens and screams from the rest of the team deafen the air. Sucking deeply through my oxygen mask I could barely stay conscious. I reach one last time for Lavan, now with her head tucked, and at that moment a hard canopy surrounds me and I feel the belts dig into my skin. A sudden jerk rocks my head into place and I fall from the plane. Blue skies and fire, blue skies and debris, falling, screaming, blue skies and me.'

I awaken lying sideways with my face halfway on the dead cow. A red laser blinds me from a distance and I can make out an outline of a tower through the heavy fog rolling across the muddy field. I shield my eyes and grab my pistol, hopping up from my prone position. The wound in my leg surprises me and I grit my teeth as I stumble forward. Looking back up I can read Morse code being displayed through the laser light and realize it's friendly.

"Must be the scout."

As I walk through the mud, sunken grass and manure, I hear a sudden rustle in a nearby hedge. A rabid ghoul sprints out with arms outreached. I swing my rifle halfway to position before it knocks me to the ground. It attempts to jump on me but I catch its arm, flesh sliding right off to the bone. I pull my combat knife and stab it in the head, tossing it to the side. A second and third ghoul sprint out and I lunge for my fallen rifle. Rolling over to take aim I watch as blood and brains spatter from both enemies from, rifle shots from afar tearing their bodies in half. I steadily aim, quickly, in each direction, gazing through the now dense fog. All is quiet but the groans of the dying ghouls at my feet. The laser again hits me and I follow it. Trudging through what seems a mile through mud and craters I finally reach the base of the radio tower.

Barbed wire, sandbags, iron beams and what seemed to be an automatic turret surrounded the base of the tall tower. A circular trench filled with supply containers surrounds the entry door and I can see a staircase leading up to a platform. I pull aside the wet and molded gate to the interior and bring down my weapon.

"Thought you were about to turn into Swiss cheese back there didn't ya?!" A voice cries out from up top. "Luckily you got an M-1 class scout sniper as your guardian angel looking out for ya! Come on up!"

I pull my rifle over my shoulder and make my way up the staircase. Halfway up I can make out the valley through the fog for a few miles in each direction, with pockets of fire and flashes all around. As I reach the top an arm reaches out to help me up the last step.

"Welcome to paradise, Captain."

Before me stands a middle aged man of about 35 years, tattooed neck and forearms from what I can make out. His trench coat is tattered and patched together in spots with discolored rags. He dons a heavy scruff and has war paint on his face appears to not have been washed off for days on end. Dark eyes full of life and his smile is large.

"Thanks for the assistance back there, damn ghouls have been a menace lately."

"My pleasure, just another day's work," the soldier says in a deep voice.

"What's your name soldier?"

"M-107, marksman class one, rifleman seve-"

"I know what it stands for,"

"Or you can call me AP for short, Allan Pierce,"

I stand and stare at him for a moment as he pulls out a cigarette and lights it. He offers me a puff after he inhales a few.

"No thank you Pierce, what are you doing up here, what's your assignment?"

"I've been stationed at this here tower now for four months, sniper duty. I have eyes for three miles in every direction. Nothing passes by that bridge over there without me seeing it.

Pierce whistles sharply and a German Shepard runs out from behind an iron panel. Steel plates, screws and a side panel with a small computer screen.

"This is Lucy, my robo dog. She's been reconfigured after a bad wound she suffered in my defense. As loyal as they come."

"Interesting, I've only heard of these dogs in the service."

"Yeah, she needs minimal sleep and can see a squirrel or birds move from a mile away."

"Must be nice. Now what's the situation with this tower?"

"Well this here is a lookout and guard point overseeing the bridge there about 150 yards away. The radioactive water running through the bend will burn most, except the ghouls, so I've been stationed here to protect the Brotherhood bunker 6 miles down the road to the west from the Reavers or the scum of the Earth raiders in this area. So far so good. Haven't seen any Commonwealth folk around here, that may only be a matter of time."

"Well I hope not, last I heard they were nestled tightly in Boston and haven't left for a few years."

"Although true, we have received reports of some androids being captured wandering among the deadlands as far as New Albany. The Institute has been busy at work but recently quelled an A.I. rebellion."

I sit down on an ammunition crate and Pierce moves his rifle aside. He motions if I would like some water, and I accept, washing the dry feeling down my throat.

"Pierce, I was sent out here on a research mission to explore Plymouth. Radar indications show an element unknown to our periodic table. The readings, if true, would be of an element similar to diamonds, but able to output a great source of energy. My craft was shot down in this nearby area, and my crew, has yet to be located."

Looking down at a photo from my pocket I rub my thumb over the wrinkles in the paper.

"My woman was among one of those lost. Have you any word on the crash?"

"No sir, but I saw what may have been your ship make across the sky off south east in that direction, but it was badly burning."

"Thank you, I will head that way."

"Sir, I recommend you get some rest before heading out, we need to make sure that wound heals."

I stare down at my leg, where patches of dry blood now stain my camouflage pants.

"You're right."

"Don't worry about any intruders, like I said, I got eyes in every direction."

Pierce points to a few small mounted turrets on the ledges of the tower walls.

"They're able to read the heat signatures in our bodies. The blue pills we all took at basic give-"

"I also know how those work, I helped invent the pills. They change our temperature by a few degrees without affecting any functionality, we are the only ones with those signatures, so they shoot to kill anything without them."

"Precisely sir. And damn, you must be one hell of a scientist."

"You could say that, and that's why I was sent out there. Big time discovery in the making. But here I am with you."

"Well make yourself at home, should be nightfall soon."

Peering over the steel walls I see distant smoke and flashes. Faint echoes of gunfire amuse ravens in the tree lines and the valley winds blow up debris. I lay back on my survival pack and glare up at the evening stars, unphased by the wretchedness of this world.

Journal entry 1: When the sun rests over the deadlands on the East coast the cold comes out to haunt, creeping through every hole in your tattered clothes and boots. The cold has no mercy, and the warmth only radiates. We live amongst the scourge of men, the nightmares of old, and in a living hell. Beauty is in the form of the innocent, and the untainted, uncorrupted. Everything still holy in this land comes from technology, and the hands of the Brotherhood of Steel. The screams and flames are prayers, and we are the answer.

"Sometimes, when smoke trails the early sky, and all is quiet, I can see her in the billows. Her black silk hair cascading down her back or tied in a bun, French braid for fun and ponytail when we're lifting. But the best was when she would come out of the shower, my God the sight of her killed every word before it could leave my tongue. My God the lovely sight of her.."

"She sounds amazing, tell me about her."

"Besides being at the top of her classes, and a beautiful physical specimen, she is, or was, comforting."

"She's still out there sir, believe it."

"Thank you. When all hell rained from the skies and people lost their minds, she was my rock. And still the thought of her keeps me grounded. That is all."

Pierce nods his head and gives me a half smile.

"So what do you do for food around here?"

"Insta-dinner, a household family favorite."

Pierce tosses me a few packs and a plastic spoon.

"Don't forget to say grace."

I laugh and pull open the first pack labeled 'steak'n potatoes. Surprisingly the steak smelled fresh off a grill and was moist. The potatoes were dry but bearable. All in all a small feast, better than the roots and squirrel out in the wastes.

"How's dinner sir? Up to your standards?"

"Beyond my standards I said laughingly. They treat you pretty good up here don't they?"

"I'm the eyes and ears for miles in every direction, you know, a kind of VIP. ..but, sir, it's about time I rest, I'm going to activate the perimeter sensors in the fields just in case someone gets twinkle toes out there. I also got the good ol Robodog Lucy here for our protection. Enjoy your night off your feet. Tomorrow should be a hell of a day."

I watch him pull his Boston Red Sox hat over his eyes and lay back on a sleeping bag, Lacy at his side.

"Good night Pierce."

Closing my eyes all I see is her lying beside me naked in our bedroom, hands rubbing the back of my neck, lips on my chest, and just begin to drift away. Birds of the night begin their songs. The restless sky flashes in the distance. Hunters fire off rounds into the heavy clouds. The sweetest sounds come from Pierce, disassembling his rifle and cleaning it. The feeling of being secure in this world is highly underrated.

'"Dr. Somn, please make your way to the laboratory field clinic as soon as possible, Dr. Niel is waiting to see you." Walking down the pristine white corridors of the Bunker's labs I tighten my tie and fix my glasses. I stare into nearby glass windows to ensure my appearance is presentable. Before reaching the door I ask a nearby assistant if my breath is ok, and she gives her approval. I knock on the door to Dr. Niel's office and she opens it without a moment passed.

"Dr. Somn, pleased to see you, welcome. I have a field doctor in training I've assigned to your detail. Please, make your acquaintance.

I stare at her from the bottom up in a quick second and am simply astonished at the physical wonder before me. My heart begins to rapidly beat, palms perspire and I could barely find a simple-

"Hello Dr. Somn, my name is Lavan, or if you so choose to call me by title, Scribe Talia."

"Pleasure to meet you Scribe, I am happy to have someone with your skill set a part of my team."

"The pleasure is mine sir, I look forward to our training together."

Lavan smiles a medium smile, and I melt in my boots.'"

A sudden boom propels me out of my sleep and I grab for my pistol. I see Pierce on the edge of the steel with his rifle.

"Calm Dr., we had a few ferals slip through the fence but I got them."

I look down at my Pip Boy, beeping wildly and making odd noises. I slap it a few times and it shuts down.

"Must have been the alarm, sorry for the disruption."

"No problem sir, I was just about to get up anyways, I only sleep a few hours here and there."

"How the hell do you do it?"

"Training and a shit ton of drugs."

We both laugh quietly.

"Well I suppose I should make my way towards the bunker, they should have the resources for a rescue operation."

"I suppose you're right, but before you go take this, can help you out in case you run into more trouble than you could handle."

Pierce hands me a rusty, odd shaped sub machine gun.

"May not look like a full house of blondes but it's still quite the party. Releases rounds of your choice, whether they be incendiary, EMP, or regular. Have fun."

"Thank you, I'll be in touch. And..are you sure you will be alright up here, I know this region has been getting hot lately?"

"I'm fine, this is what I live for, the solidarity, the peace, the occasional flare, makes life a bit spicy, just the right temperature for a roughneck like myself, I do better alone."

I stand up, grab my gear, holster the sub machine gun and salute Pierce.

"Well it's been a pleasure soldier, make sure to watch your corners."

"Will do, and oh…last signal I received from the bunker was from the south east a few days ago. Good luck."

"Roger that."

I take another long look behind me at the tall shadow in the fog, antennae pointing in all directions, pull my ball cap over my head, tighten my trench coat around my shoulders and begin my march through the flooded marsh and grass towards the Brotherhood bunker.

"Hard to believe that some birds made it through the storm or radioactive hell falling from the sky. Nature definitely has its ways of performing miracles."

Ravens circle above. Sunlight fights through the heavy fog of the brisk morning. Faint barks sound off behind me. Glimmers of flames dance in the distance. I check my ammo as I walk through the mud, the squash of the dirt playing as a rhythm. Eastern winds blow trash and articles of clothing across the ground before me. I grab a fluttering grey t-shirt stuck to my chin. It's spotted with dried blood, as if the last trace of life is now stained in the fabric. The smell of fresh roses is still stuck in the threads. The death must have been fresh, the woman beautiful, the verdict unknown, but she must be gone. I carry on towards my intended destination.

Left foot forward, right foot forward, left foot, right foot. I can barely see in front of me as the smoke in the air becomes thicker. The sun begins to flicker in and out and the smell of rotting meat crawls into my nose. I survey the land I can before me and an make out an old shed in the distance. I pull out my rifle and adjust the scope, strafing to see if any life is visible but can't make out any movement. Making sure my rifle is loaded I quickly approach the shed, weapon raised.

Heavy smoke and putrid smells come from the shed and I walk slowly through the mud closer to the front door, swung wide open with a pair of bloody legs hanging out with red/black checkered shoes. I kick the shoes, inspecting the body for life and get no response. I find a rock nearby and throw it through a broken window. Not a sound but the rock banging against some glass items.

I swing around quick with my rifle raised and step over the pair of legs. Shards of light pierce through cracks in the wooden walls exposing old wooden chairs and crates, cobwebs hanging from every direction. Not a moving soul, including the one before my feet. The man's white shirt is ripped open, pants unbuttoned and his member cut off, a bloody cross made of swords had been carved into his flesh. A piece of notebook paper is nail gunned to his face and reads, "Only a clown would fuck with us, but we always get the last laugh." I raise the paper and notice the face had been skinned off. The only semi clean part of his appearance were his shiny clown shoes, too big for his feet.

The violent wind of the wastes echoes through the broken walls and shuffles papers along a burnt book shelf. Pacing myself through the cabin I walk over broken glass and clothes strewn everywhere, all leading from the bedroom. I swing my rifle around my shoulder and draw my pistol. Dried blood stains the wood floors in front of the doorway. A hammer and knife lye in the doorway with a cut off finger next to them.

What the hell happened here.

Approaching the bed I can make out the face of a young woman under a few shirts. Her face is pale and makeup a mess, dried tears of mascara on her cheeks. She isn't breathing. I lift the covers from over her and notice bruises along her naked body with bloody handprints all over.

Suffocation, but not before brutal pleasure.

I pull the covers over her face and walk out of the room.

Sweat is like wet glue, thick and unending in the radioactive sweltering heat, attracting the oversized mosquitos, and insects alike, all sticking to the skin of the dead.

Never have I seen such barbaric acts demonstrated on humans to such lengths. This is a cold word, a dismal world, a world that shows no mercy.

I collect myself after swig of water and a moment of silence. Walking towards a back door I notice a peculiar crack of light in the floor and discover a hidden door. I pull out my pistol and slowly push it open. To my surprise a small girl sits in the corner of a dim room with a baby cradled in her arms. I hold up a hand and my pistol to show I'm peaceful. The girl is shaking hysterically while clinging to a blade and the baby.

"Peace, I'm here to help you, please, don't fear me, I am Brotherhood."

The girl continues to shake and wipes tears from her face. The baby squirms in her arms and peeps out small cries through her pacifier. I take a few more steps toward her and holster my weapon. I ask her for her name and she quickly motions more away from me. I then turn my shoulder and show her my Brotherhood insignia and she slows down her frantic breath and grins.

"Bro-tha-hood?" She sounds out with a French accent. "Good guys." "Safe?" She asks me.

"Safe, yes."

I pull out a candy bar and offer it to her.

"Hungry? Eat."

She looks at me for along second and then snatches the bar from my hands, consuming the bar in seconds.

"Help." She says. "Baby."

She lifts up the baby and offers it to me with large saddened eyes piercing me within. I Motion I cannot take the baby and she begins to cry again.

"Sorry."

The girl looks down at the baby now staring up at me with a blank face. I then grab a few sheets from a closet and slowly take the baby. The girl quickly wraps her arms around my leg. I pat her on the back and begin to walk towards a back door, shielding her eyes.

"Let's go." I say pointing outside. She nods her head.

I peek outside, making sure there is no threat in waiting, and pass through with the girl and the baby tucked in the top of my backpack. A few steps forward and the girl lets go and runs back inside the house.

"Wait." She yells.

I pull out my rifle and take a knee, scanning in every direction. The bitter bite of the wind begins to poke at me again. The girl returns carrying what appears to be a handful of grenades. I quickly grab them from her.

"Thank you."

Making an opening motion with her arms she says, "Boom."

I nod and laugh, "Let's go. You are safe."

The sun begins to pierce the deep dark clouds rolling through the infinite sky and falls around the dry earth before me. The girl's hand becomes sweaty in mine as she tightly clings it while swinging a doll in her other. She hums some kind of nursery rhyme, occasionally looking up and smiling at me. No sense of remorse for her parent's death now that she's with me. The baby boy sucks his pacifier close to my ear. A strong, intruding stench of burning oil floats in the air and smoke appears close on a distant tree line. I quickly get down on a knee and pull my rifle to scan the area.

"What's your name girl?"

The little girl's eyes are fully open as she grabs her doll.

"Sy-Sy-Sydney."

"Sydney, I need you to lay flat with the baby while I make sure it's safe ahead ok?"

She nods her head slowly and begins to sob. I gently lay the baby down in the dead grass and focus my rifle on the trees before me. A dozen or so people hang from a tree with their mouths covered in duct tape. Four have been covered in oil and lit on fire, scorched down to the bone. The others squirm as they are hoisted up by a group of Hyans, with white painted faces. I make out a Brotherhood badge on the tattered jacket of a prisoner.

"Sydney, keep the baby quiet and stay here, I will come back for you."

I quickly pace through a dry creek bed towards the trees and take cover behind a ruined truck. Peering up I could see the Hyans playing and prodding the dead bodies and while they beat the other survivors. One of the raiders puts a shotgun to the head of a man and pulls the trigger. A woman faints and a Hyan pulls her by the hair and begins to mount her when another pushes him away.

As they fight for the right to rape the woman I climb in through the passenger side and lay down, aligning my rifle to the scene of carnage. I pull a silencer from my bag and adjust. One of the Hyans stands far behind the group and drinks from a whiskey bottle, watching the action take place. As he places the bottle down on a nearby rock I fire and kill the raider. He falls sideways and knocks over the glass, breaking it while he tumbles to the ground. One Hyan stops arguing with the Brotherhood prisoner and sees his fallen comrade, a pool of blood soaking in the dust. Firing his assault rifle in the air to get the other's attention, who have fully stripped the woman down, the leader launches a red flare in the air. I quickly take off the heads of the two quarreling Hyans as they scamper to pull their pants on. The leader ducks behind a hostage and begins firing wildly in every direction.

My mouth begins to dry as I see three vehicles quickly rolling over the hills in our direction.

"Fuckers brought back up."

I fix my sights to the oncoming vehicles and notice three trucks equipped with machine guns, each with a few Hyans dangling from the bed, locked and loaded. I begin to fire rounds through the windshields as they let off rounds in my direction. I duck quickly and close the door in front of me.

Loud engines, gunshots and screams sound off in the haze and dust. I can hear Sydney screaming nearby and the baby crying. I fall to the rear of the truck and pull out a few grenades from my satchel.

Fire in the hole. I pull the pins and launch them towards the nearing trucks. The closest swerves and avoids the blast as the next flips onto its side, propelling the raiders onto the dirt. The leader holding the hostage suddenly sprints towards me and I gun him down a few feet from my truck. The first truck pulls up by the tree line and lets out its raiders, all now rattling my position with fire. The third truck darts around my flank rapidly firing its mounted turret. Shrapnel from the truck debris skims my leg and I drop my rifle. I pull my pistol out and fire at the truck, knocking the gunner off the turret. I pull my last grenade, stand up, and toss it toward the tree line, as the raiders begin to run towards me. I catch a few in the blast, sending limbs and blood in each direction. The others fall back and continue to fire at the truck. The Brotherhood prisoner continues to squirm and attempts to fall.

As the truck makes another round at my flank a flash of light appears to the west and a sudden plasma explosion sends the truck sky high. I grab my rifle from the ground and spot a Brotherhood patrol running towards us. The Hyans begin to shout and fire in the Brotherhood direction as they approach but a rocket blast blows back a few from their tree cover. As a few remaining try to escape I blow out their knee caps, dropping them from their dead sprint. I pull out my red badge and raise my rifle showing I'm in peace as the fully armored soldiers approach the scene.

"Weapons down!" one of the soldiers yells. "Lay on the ground with your hands behind your head, now!"

As I lay on my stomach I look up and can make out a Brotherhood silhouette on the massive armored shoulder pads of one soldier. He wields a large gauss rifle and a full radiation protective helmet. As he walks up he stops his two giant metal boots in front of my face.

"Heeerroo." The soldier vibrating voice slowly says. "Only a hero would bring along a small child and baby on his travels. Who are you."

As I look up to speak he pushes my head into the dirt.

"I never said to look up at me! Speak now!"

Spitting out the dirt I make words.

"Dr. Wendelle Somn of the Eagle Scientific Exploration Team."

"Wait, so you're a contractor, where's your team?"

"I was hoping you boys could help me with that one."

"Stand up soldier."

The heavily armored soldier grabs my jacket and launches me up from the ground with one arm. As I wipe my face I could see him remove his helmet. He motions to his other soldiers to search the wreckage of the skirmish then stares at me silent. Long scars travel from his shaved head down over his jaw and neck. One of his eyes white with a bulls eye target contact, the other blue. His beard is tied up in a double knot and dyed red.

"Do you know I am….Hell's angel." He laughs loudly. "Lucky we found you here, we were tracking one of our own who was captured. Seems you may have saved his life."

He turns and peers at the brotherhood captive being cut down from the tree,

"Grat-ti-tude partner. Gratitude. Now who are the kids?"

"Lost souls, that need to be saved."

"Well now aren't you the righteous one. What is this? You go around the wasteland saving those in need?"

"I'm actually looking to save just a small handful. My research team. We were shot down a day ago."

"Well how did you survive?"

"Malfunctioning ejection system ironically, but the rest of my team drifted off through the sky to only God knows where. And here I am, wandering the wastes with high hopes and ambition."

"Fuck, well, we received a distress signal a day ago but couldn't make it's coordinates before we lost it, shit was moving fast."

"What?! Really? Well, where did the signal lead you before it went off grid?"

"East."

I look down in dismay and slowly wipe my dry mouth.

"How far east?"

"You know the answer to that."

I step back covering my face, exhaling deeply, and kick a rock.

"Commonwealth."

The soldier just nods.

"Well sir, my squad and I would be more than jolly to escort you and your band here to our bunker for aid, looks like you need a little patchwork if I say so myself."

"Thank you. Never told your name."

"S-06. Or six for short. One of the first of my kind." He says with a smirk.

"Roger that. Well let's roll."

S-06 motions to the others to fall in line and they split to either side of us. I throw the bag with the baby over my shoulders and take the girl's hand as we walk through a fresh mud slushed road.

In the wretched hell of the wastes, wings are still able to fly, and to fly strong in the violent winds of turmoil that plague this land from every direction. On the inside I can feel the pain and screams of all of those left to scorch along every mile I pass in the Deadlands. There isn't a safe place for my conscience, no matter the amount of souls I save, there are thousands more that haunt me. The Brotherhood is a glimmer of sun in an infinite storm, and they share my burden.

We move along in slender shadows of naked pine trees lining the road. Nuclear winter chills blow along our path kicking up dust all around us. Sydney bobbles against my side with straight face staring forward, the baby sleeps in my pouch. One of the Brotherhood soldiers hands her a chocolate bar and pats her on the back. She flinches and cowers momentarily before slowly peeling back the wrapper and taking a bite. A scout about fifty yards ahead of us puts his armored radiation helmet on and signals the rest. The soldiers around us all fix their helmets and 06 gives us rubber headgear.

"We're about to pass through a low radioactive zone, but don't worry about your skin, just don't breath this shit in.

A soldier to the right of us loads and turns the safety off of his heavy machine gun.

"You never know." He tells us, then laughs.

"Sometimes we get random feral ghouls that wander along through this area. But we got you all covered. We're just a few clicks from an outpost." 06 says.

Journal Entry 2: Seven miles. Seven miles from the crash site I've now ventured. The winter is long, my body has now accustomed to the frigid air. The bones of the trees are bare, sharp wind sweeps through the valley, foxholes are the best defense against the bite. The never ending cloud of smoke drifts above, trailing from somewhere near the city, and the smell of tar seemingly tears at my nose every other minute. Burning tires can be made out in the stench and the sounds of distant gunfire play a tune in the early morning. I remember the way the vinyl sounded as my wife slow drifted with me in the kitchen, nothing short of amazing. Such a sweet sound now buried deep in the confines of my memories, to save for the long and cold nights.