I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING RELATED TO FALLOUT OR RESIDENT EVIL.

This story takes place in my alternate Fallout 3 universe. Carlos Olivera appears as my main character and looks exactly as he does in the movie Resident Evil: Extinction so I'm not going to waste time describing him. There will be several notable tweaks to the Fallout 3 universe mainly involving weaponry and the like. I hope you enjoy my first ever fanfic. Please review and let me know how I'm doing and what I can do to make my story better. Thank you, and i hope you enjoy it.

normal speech

"talking"

thinking

Carlos Olivera woke up, coughing violently. He got up from the bed, staggered around until he found the bathroom, and vomited into the toilet. He flushed and spit into the sink. After washing his face he stared at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, his lips dry and cracked. His stomach ached and his throat burned. He walked out of the bathroom and over to the bed he had been sleeping on. He had no memory of ever coming to this place. Then he realized he was only wearing his compression shorts and wife beater. He glanced around for his equipment but couldn't find any trace of it. There were others in the room. They were bandaged, some tossing and turning in their beds and moaning in pain. A few, he saw, were even missing limbs.

There was a clanging sound coming from the other room, but when he tried to turn sharply he felt a terrible pain in his left side. He dropped to a knee and looked at the spot that hurt. He noticed a gash along his side right under his rib cage. The wound had been stitched and covered with some clear substance, probably a disinfectant of some kind. He turned his attention to where he heard the sound. As he approached the doorway, he noticed a scalpel on a medical tray nearby. He picked up the scalpel and continued to cautiously move towards the room. He looked around the corner and saw a Ghoul sorting through medical supplies and grumbling something to himself that Carlos couldn't quite hear.

"My God, you're awake?"

The voice startled Carlos and he spun around and in an instant had the blade of the scalpel to the throat of an elderly man in a lab coat. To his surprise, the man was unusually calm considering his current predicament.

"Calm yourself lad, There's no need for such hostilities. Here, let me have that," the old man took the scalpel from Carlos and sat it down next to him on the medical tray, "there, much better. Have a seat."

Carlos and the old man were seated in another part of the house (which Carlos learned was actually rather large) in a couple of armchairs. The Ghoul was a man servant named Grom and was now bringing them some water and crackers. The old man gestured for Carlos to take some.

"Where am I and how did I get here?" Carlos asked in between drinks and bites of cracker.

"You are in my home. We are a few miles southwest of Megaton. You were attacked by a Deathclaw. You are quite lucky that Grom here found you. Otherwise, I doubt you and I would be having this conversation"

"Where is my gear?"

"In that locker over there," the old man pointed behind Carlos, "some of your equipment was badly damaged so we did our best to repair it."

"Who are you?"

"Dr. Joseph Stanson. I help wastelanders such as yourself who get injured out there in the wastes."

Carlos got up from his chair and walked over to the locker. He got out his gear and started going through it. He put on his clothes and picked up his weapon, a custom G36C with holographic sights (it was a real pain in the ass to find the parts to get it working), an M203 grenade launcher, and a tiny yet powerful side mounted flashlight. He quickly sat down, disassembled the gun, checked everything, and reassembled it. He picked up his rucksack and sorted through its contents to make sure everything was still there. He checked the blade on his combat knife and slid it into place on his tactical vest. He started towards the door when the Dr. Stanson stopped him.

"Wait, you can't possibly go out in your condition."

Carlos shrugged the old doctor off and continued on his way. As he stepped out of the house he was greeted by the blinding light of the sun and the heat and gusts of sand blowing off the barren wasteland that was once the capitol of the United States. As his eyes finally adjusted to the light, he stared out along the horizon, at what was left of Washington D.C.