Fallout!Stuck
By: 2punk2beDave
"This is utter bullocks," Jake grumbled to himself as he examined the damaged pistol in his hand. He stood alone in the center of a crumbling building that seemed more vines and rotting plants than it did cement. "Three years of use. I cleaned you every ruddy day and now you up and give out on me," He mumbled and dropped to the ground with a loud thump. Around him lay several men and women dressed in seemingly tribal clothing and war paint. Each had several bullet holes in their torsos and one through the forehead. Makeshift weapons lay scattered on the ground amongst the bullet casings and spatters of blood and brain matter.
Jake had been exploring the ruins of one of the many single story grocery stores that dotted the massive city he was stuck in. Ever since the nations of the world had enough of one another and lobbed every nuclear device they had on them at one another, the world was an utter wasteland. As far as Jake knew he was the only one of his friends and family that survived since he was on a remote island by himself when the first wave of bombs dropped. The island was far enough away for him to get to one of the many ruins that tunneled the island and dove far underground and waited out the fallout to pass. He had stashed years of food supplies in the ruins as he planned to turn them into a sort of home. Who knew they would double as a bomb shelter. For three years he lived in the ruins exploring every inch he could possibly uncover. Most of the radiation was in full effect above ground and he dared not leave the underground shelter. That is until his food supplies ran dry.
What Jake had found when he exited the ruins was an island rotted to the core. The plant life was completely decimated and the ground was reduced to dry, hard dirt that cracked every few feet. The entrance to the ruins was reduced to dust leaving a large hole in the ground that lead for miles on end. The first thing Jake did was quickly pull out one of his tablet computers used to keep track of areas he discovered in the ruins and checked his PesterChum. With no connection to the internet he had no idea if any of his friends had made it through the blast.
Jake dropped to his knees as panic swelled up in his throat. Tears poured down his dirty cheeks as he looked out in the wasteland and let the nearly overwhelming heat sink into him. He couldn't tell if the fallout from the blasts was affecting him but as far as he could tell he was fine as far as radiation poisoning goes. For almost an hour Jake sat on the dry earth crying. His world was destroyed and everyone close to him was possibly dead.
Suddenly a thought had hit him like a baseball bat to the skull: Strider. If anyone would have been able to survive this blast it would have been Dirk since he lived in a large high-rise apartment set off of the cost of Texas. High-rises seem like the worst place to be when a nuke goes off, but considering the money spent on the project there would be series of basements and foundations to keep the building stable in the ever changing ocean. It was then and there Jake decided to get to Texas as fast as he could. He found a boat had survived the destruction of the island by being stowed away in a small cove. Jake loaded up as much water, what little food could be scrounged up, both of his pistols and a plentiful amount of ammunition.
It took months to make his way across the oceans and end up in what he believed were the states. Most of it was as dead as his island, save for a few towering buildings, a dead shrubbery, and a collection of leafless trees. Jake judged he was somewhere on the coast of California since his island was in the pacific. It took several more months to trek across the wasteland to get to what was left of Texas. From what he saw in pictures and satellite images the nuclear waste didn't really change the land scape of the place. Jake scrounged for food at ruined towns and gas stations on his way towards the other side of the large state and kept his head down.
As far as he could tell, radiation was not something he had to worry about. Nothing seemed to change about his body, save the cleanness of it and the occasional scar he gained from battling with tribes of irritated, near skinless humans he took to calling Ghouls from an old game he used to play. So far every Ghoul was a feral beast just after something to eat. A single bullet would kill one however they always attack in monstrous numbers that very nearly expended Jake's ammunition supply. However when he made it to Texas ammunition and additional weapons weren't hard to come by.
Now he sat in what he believed was the capital of Texas, or at least one of the larger cities. It was either Houston or Austin. Either way it was devoid of human life until Jake stepped into the grocery store. He was greeted with several painted bodies that turned to look at him at once. They wore bits of tire and metal scrap as armor and various color paint splattered both skin and material alike.
"Fresh meat!" one of the survivors called. And with that, they attacked at once.
Jake had quickly pulled his twin pistols from the holsters on his sides and fired into the group. None of the savage survivors had a firearm on them, but carried a variety of clubs, knives, machetes, and other melee weapons. Five charged Jake at once and were swiftly taken down by a short blast of bullets sending their bodies into heaps on the ground and pooling their blood on the thirsty cement.
"He's going to be a tough one! Let 'em have it guys and gals!" one cried out standing on top of one of the aisles. Fifteen or so savages came running from the back of the store with weapons in hand. Each had the look of blood lust on their face and they charged at once.
Jake mumbled a quick, "Bloody hell," and stepped into the fray firing his pistols in rapid succession. Not a single shot missed his mark. After three of the fifteen assailants collapsed, Jake ejected the mags from his weapons and loaded in fresh ones. He squeezed the trigger gracefully, shifting his aim from target to target and putting three rounds each. Several savages collapsed with a thud and Jake reloaded again. By now the remaining savages had reached him. One brought a tire iron down and slammed it hard into the ground that Jake had been standing in.
"That was far too close for my own comfort chap!" Jake shouted and shoved the barrel of the pistol into the savage's temple and squeezed. The gun popped loudly and sprayed blood and bits of skull onto the ground. Jake turned to his left in time to see another savage raise a machete over his head as he swung it down, Jake slammed one pistol into its holster, grabbed the savages wrist with his free hand and pressed his pistol into his gut. Jake fired the gun twice and shoved the dead savage to the ground. Only two remained and they slowly stepped toward Jake cautiously. Jake sighed and adjusted his broken glasses into place, raised the pistol and fired twice killing the last two of the savages.
As Jake stepped over the corpses and put two more rounds into their heads, to make sure they were dead, his pistol broke. There was a loud click then a quick crack. The slide of the weapon split and cracked as the round jammed on the pin. What looked like a simple weapon jam turned out to be a complete failure.
Clattering of bullet casings brought Jake to full attention and he quickly hopped to his feet, unholstered his other pistol and spun. He turned to see a man looking his age wresting a katana to his throat. The man had wavy blonde hair that swept over cracked and smudged sunglasses. His shirt was tattered and dirty white with a disk in the center. Jake managed to take a step forward and press the barrel of his pistol into the cheek of the stranger who stood calm, and collected.
"What do you want?" The stranger asked, his voice showing no hint of panic or worry. "You made quick work of those cannibals so I can't say you're one of them. Who are you?"
Jake cracked a smile, but kept a tight grip on the weapon in his hand. "I'm Jake. Jake English. Might I ask, what is your name chap?"
"Dave. Dave Strider," the stranger, Dave said coolly.
Jake's eyes widened and slowly he took a step back and dropped the pistol to his side. "Strider? Are you perhaps related to a Dirk Strider? Builds robots, boasts a lot, listens to rap?"
Dave sat silent for a moment before he lowered his katana and sheathed it. "No. I don't know a Dirk. Know what he looks like?"
Jake shook his head and sighed, "I don't know what the bugger looks like. All I know is he lives in some high-rises off of the coast of Texas, which is here I assume?"
"Yeah this is Texas. I live in one of the high-rises near here," Dave answered and took a few steps back away from Jake. "I'm heading to the coast to try and get to those apartments. I picked up a distress signal from there on an emergency radio. I heard its Ghoul-free over that way."
"Mind if I tag along?" Jake asked sliding the pistol in his holster and holding his hand out. Dave stared at the outstretched hand for a moment and shrugged.
"As long as you can pull your weight while we get there then fine. If not then you can stay and be a can of fresh cannibal soup for all I care."
Jake nodded silently in response and followed Dave as he left the crumbling store. No point in looking for food in it – the savages already took it all for themselves. For hours the two ducked in and out of alleyways and buildings trying to avoid hordes of skinless Ghouls. As they maneuvered their way down the roads, Jake noticed several things about Dave. His clothing was stained with blood and grime as if it hasn't been removed or washed in months. It was mostly in tatters with several large rips. The same went for his pants: more blood and more grime. His skin was pale as snow but covered in many large red scars that flared menacingly in the sunlight. Finally after a few silent hours Jake broke the silence. "So how long have you been out here?" he asked in a low voice.
"Longer than the fuckin' sun," Dave mumbled back, his attention fully focused on a group of Ghouls.
Jake scoffed in response and slowly knelt down next to Dave. "No seriously, how long have you been in this blasted city?"
"All my life. I told you I lived in one of the apartment complex's here. Is the radiation rotting that brain of yours ?"
Jake sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "How long have you been surviving?"
"Better question, English. Three years. The bombs fell outside of Houston when I was sixteen and I quickly scrambled to the basement," Dave responded slowly. "Don't look now English, but I think we've been made."
Dave tensed up and quickly unsheathed his katana. Jake stood up and looked where Dave had been focusing. A large crowd of Ghouls had turned and faced the two and locked eyes with them. Each of the feral monsters remained still hardly even breathing as they stared Jake and Dave down. Finally one somewhere in the center of the mass cried out. The Ghouls charged shrieking and hissing loudly toward the ally way.
"Bullocks!" Jake shouted and retrieved the pistol from his side. Before he could steady his Dave grabbed his collar and yanked him backwards. "Run you idiot!" he shouted as his foots pounded against the pavement.
"We can take them!" Jake shouted as he gave chase.
"Really?" Dave shouted over his elbow. "How many did you see?"
"About ten or so!" Jake shouted back.
"Well you're blind then 'cause there's far more than ten and unless you have a hacked gun out of a fucking video game I suggest you book it!" Dave shouted, and seemed to run even faster.
Jake struggled to keep up and his breathing slowly became ragged. The heat was sapping his breath with each step. As he bolted down the alleyway, something caught his foot and sent Jake tumbling to the ground with a loud grunt. Panic shot through his body and he rolled over. Jake was faced with an uncountable number of Ghouls rushing toward him. Jake let out a cry and raised his pistol. He fired blindly into the massive wall of flesh, killing two or three Ghouls with a single bullet.
Jake slowly crawled backwards as he fired hoping to stay the tide of feral flesh but it kept advancing.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Jake shouted and kept shooting until his pistol clicked empty. Jake reached around and grabbed one of the last magazines that he kept in his pouch strapped to his thigh. He slammed the magazine in and opened fire again killing more Ghouls. Just as he was about to spend his last bullet a flash cut through the monsters right in front of Jake. The heads of the Ghouls rolled into Jake's lap. He looked up to see Dave moving ahead of him, his sword weaving its way through the soft flesh of the Ghouls. Jake quickly stood and slammed his pistol into his holster and grabbed a Ghouls arm as it tried to strike him. Jake quickly slammed an open palm strike into the nose cavity of the Ghoul and groaned in disgust as he felt his hand plunge deep into the skull of the monster. He shoved the body away in time to duck under another Ghouls attack. Jake delivered a kick into the back of the Ghouls knee and smirked to himself as he felt the bone give away and break easily. He finished the Ghoul off with a quick kick to the skull which splattered bits of Ghoul all over Jake's tattered vest and shirt.
"English, you better help me!" Dave shouted as he backed into a wall to the left of Jake. Dave's blade still cut elegantly through the Ghouls, however numbers were against him. Jake looked around quickly for some way to draw the Ghouls attention when he spotted a metal trashcan overturned on its side. He quickly hefted up the can and with some effort hurled it at the crowd surrounding Dave. The metal can knocked over several of the Ghouls and crushed them under its weight. Ghouls were very fragile.
Dave took the opening and bolted past Jake, who turned and quickly followed. They ran for several minutes until coming up on what seemed to be a dead end, but without stopping Dave seemed to almost run right up the cement wall as he jumped up and grabbed the top. He hefted himself up and lowered a hand to help up Jake who managed to clamber up just as the wall of Ghouls smashed into the wall.
"What happened out there!" Dave shouted in between pants. "You nearly got me killed!"
"I fell!" Jake protested. "Something came up out of the ground and seemed to grab my leg! I turned to shoot but I ran out of ammunition fast!"
"Yeah no shit!" Dave shouted again, then fell onto his butt. "Good thing I came back from there, you would have been Ghoul food." Dave huffed.
"Come on. It's almost night time. Some scary things come out when the moon is up. Luckily I got a place for us to crash...and some friends for you to meet." Dave smiled weakly. "Besides you could use a washing. You stink."
In a half an hour the two walked up to what seemed to be an old bar. The place was in shambles, but boarded off. There were large spikes nailed into the walls and the ground around it forming a wall around the entrance. Several Ghouls and even a savage were impaled on the spikes.
"Welcome to the mother fuckin' home base." Dave sighed and pushed his way through the door.
"Hold it!" A woman's voice called out. "Name!"
"Strider," Dave said coolly and smiled. A woman stepped out of cover with a hunting rifle in her hands. Her hair was dark black and cut short. She wore circular rimmed glasses and had a bit of an overbite. She looked to be about the same age as Dave and Jake.
"Hey Jade." Dave smiled slightly and sat down on one of the old bar stools. "Jade, this is Jake. Jake this is Jade."
Jake looked at the woman with a sense of bewilderment. She looked like she could be Jake's sister. She was roughly the same size as Jake and wore tight shorts that cut off just before the knee. She had an old military assault vest slung loosely around her chest which covered up most of her tattered shirt. There were several cuts on her arms that had been bandaged tightly.
"Hello ma'am," Jake managed to fumble the words out of his mouth. He stuck a hand out and got a very excited handshake in return.
"Hello to you too, sir!" Jade replied happily. "It's nice to meet you Jake. I'm so very happy to meet you! It's good to have a new member join us!" She said, then quickly turned to face the back of the bar. "Hey guys! We have someone new!"
Two more people came rushing from a room that was behind Jade. One was another woman about the same age as everyone else. She had short blonde hair that was cut in a bob cut. There was a tattered purple hairband in her hair that matched the color of her eyes. Her expression was very serious and almost scary. "Hello." She said, and gave a small wave. "My name is Rose. Rose Lalonde."
Jake raised a hand and waved back. "Jake. Jake English." He replied. Jake noted that like the others Rose was wearing very tattered clothing. She wore a black and purple lace skirt that stopped around the middle of her thighs. A scarf was wrapped around her waist like a belt and tucked away in the scarf were two long, and very sharp looking needles. Her shirt was cut up and dirty just like all the others.
The other person, a boy that looked eerily similar to both Jake and Jade rushed forward and grabbed Jakes hand. "Nice to meet you!" He said happily and introduced himself. "My name is John. John Egbert."
"Nice to meet you, John. I'm Jake, Jake English," Jake replied. He gave John a good look over. John had a mop of messy black hair and wide, square-rimmed glasses like Jake's. His shirt was a faded blue and seemed to be in better condition than the others. His pants were just basic jeans, but strapped to his back with a makeshift strap was a large sledgehammer that seemed to be painted several eccentric colors.
"These are my friends," Dave said. "Coincidentally, they came here looking for me. Rose is from New York and John is from DC. Rose picked up John on the way here."
Jake nodded slowly and his mind shifted to the thought of his friends. Surely someone must have made it out alive. His best bet was to find his Strider. Find Dirk and he may be able to find the others.
"In a few days when we replenish our supplies we're going to head for the coast, towards the apartment buildings you're heading to, also, English. You're welcome to tag along," Dave explained. "However, on this trip, you have to find your own supplies. We hardly have enough between the four of us as it is."
"Understandable," Jake mumbled. He hoped Dirk was still alive. He hoped his other friends were alive as well.
"When do we leave?" Jake asked. "And even though you just said for me to scavenge for myself do you have any 9mm ammunition? I've run my stock dry," He said sheepishly.
"Yeah!" John smiled. "Only Jade uses guns but we stockpiled it just in case this bar comes under siege."
"And to answer your question, English," Dave interrupted. "We leave tomorrow."