((A/n: Let me start off by saying welcome. This isn't my first Fanfic but I will admit that it has been a LONG while since I have written anything. Truth be told, I was pretty good at it at one time. So take my rustiness with a grain of salt. This story is totally worth reading. This is my very first FO fanfic. My posts will vary in length as to the time I have to write them. I don't know much about the Fallout world outside FO3 and NV so bear with me. I'm hoping to add new elements to the story as to intrigue my readers... Please, by all means if you have any questions or feel the need for correction, please do. Reviews make muh day. Enjoy. :))

Where they make a desert, they call it peace... - Tacitus

Fleeting steps thumped and crunched through the tall Oregon threes with the melody of heavy panting. Through the denseness of a thick fog in aid with the darkness of the night, a single hue of blue fluttered down an empty trail. Two figures ran for their lives as a monstrous screech pierced the silence of the night and echoed through the distance. Fear coursed through their veins at the sound as they continued on, tripping and stumbling through the thick forest underbrush. Pit pat pit pat The noise grew louder with every second as the creature grew nearer. Snapping limbs and branches cracked and popped behind. Loud thumps displaced bushes and earth as it muffled their own frantic strides of escape.

"Run, Natasha!", the frantic middle aged fathers whisper would have been scream of desperation if it wasn't for the situation at hand. Sweat dripped from his brow while he clutched an empty rifle close to his heart with a left hand as his right gripped the arm of his little girl. His eyes searched the night for sanctuary, but deep down he knew there was no chance. He'd been careless. Who had known that cutting over the mountain would be so dangerous for the two of them. And even with the heavy gallop and deep growl that followed them, the feeling of regret fell over him. Seattle was so close. He could practically smell its fresh air over the mountain andthe scent was bittersweet.

The young girl, no older than six clung onto a weathered teddy bear that he had given her years before. She stumbled down the inclined hill as her father pulled her along by her wrist. Her whimpers of fear snagged his attention even over the deafening throb in his ears. Mud and dirt mixed with tears making a clean line down each side of her face only to affirm the only way of her survival. And though his thoughts were of Seattle, his heart was for his only childes safety. He took a frantic glance for cover and found a large half fallen tree, half its roots ripped from the ground. It leaned heavy on a group of smaller pines that strained with its weight. In an instant the bearded man changed his his direction towards the fallen tree about thirty yards away. Tears began to swell in his own eyes as he thought of the small girl alone in the forest or how she would survive all on her own. She had no known idea of the outside until days before and she stood no chance against the elements of the wasteland.

After what seemed like an eternity, they reached the unsettled tree with heavy breathing. In the final moments of what would be his life, he slung the girl into the hole where the tree once stood. He frantically wiped away the tears that slipped down his jaw with his sleeve and gently placed his arms on the fearful child, shushing her to calm. The blue light from his wrist lit up the small girls features. He stared for only a moment recalling the six years that his daughter had been alive. Her birth, first steps, first birthday, her first day of class. He smiled as another tear fell down his cheek.

"I love you, my baby," he said, his voice cracking with overwhelming sorrow, despair clear in his tone, "I want you to stay here and keep quiet. Don't leave this spot until morning. Understand?"

The small girl nodded catching her breath, sniffing her nose as she lowered her cries. As the monstrous mammal approached, so did the man brace himself for death, "Head for Seattle," were his last words for the child.

After giving his child a single kiss on her forehead, he made off into the night. The girl slouched and in shock as the heavy thumps approached closer and weighted. She refrained from crying, digging her face into her stuffed toy. The noise grew closer and closer only feet away from the hidden girl before the sound of tearing bark screeched over her followed by a loud thump and the continuing pitter-patter of large strides in the direction that the man had vanished into the mist...

The Earth still holds many questions. Mysteries of remnants from a world that has long been forgotten. Where terror resides, hell is its ruler. Days go by and the struggle for life and peace grow even harder to hold on to than the days before. And endless fight for tranquility in a world that damns it. This is our world. This is the Wasteland. Tyrants rise and fall and the saints live and die. In this world, the fight for survival is war... And war never changes...

Fourteen years later...

It was cold and snowing. His brow fluttered as if trying to open his eyes for him, though with no avail. His body was completely limp and in riveting pain from the sensation like his skin being on fire despite the cold temperature of the air. His head felt like it was splitting open, a deep throbbing pounded at the back of his scull. The feeling of the cold wet ground made him give a uncontrolled shiver. At this point he had no choice but to move. Over the course of a few minutes, after some straining moans to move, one of his eyes opened to see a layer of snow blanketing the ground and after a few minutes more so did the other. He first began to move his fingers, once something so simple now was as daunting as lifting tree trunks. But after a few minutes of straining, his arm was pulling himself upright as his other wiped away a layer of snow from his face and clothing, though, there was no way to rid himself of the constant ache boring into his brain.

He was young, no older than twenty three years old. His short brown hair complimented his pale young features. His head hung low as he tried to maintain his upright posture. He first noticed his strange attire, a full body blue and golden jumpsuit. Strange at first seeing how he couldn't remember where he had gotten it, the only indication stitched into the blue dyed leather over the left breast reading "V.224 Engineer – Savage". The lost man looked over to find a simple brown leather satchel, enough to fit a few heavy books into. With a hint of hesitation he carefully outstretched his right arm toward the shoulder strap before yanking it to him before he lost his balance.

Upon opening the bag he found a crude written note clearly ripped from a page of a book or magazine. He looked it over front and back searching for some type of significance before reading the only words worth noting - "Go North". The message made no immediate sense to him, in fact, he didn't know who "he" actually was. He could remember absolutely nothing from before. Try as he may, he couldn't recall any moment from before the instant he became conscious. Feeling a bit frantic and obviously out of place, he continued to search the bag to find any clue on who or where he was. It only took a moment before frustration took over and he dumped the bags contents onto the snow covered ground in front of him.

He found three dispensers that read "stimpak", seven hair pins, two bottles of half frozen water, a metallic cigarette lighter, a .45 caliber revolver, a box of ammunition, a bottle of radaway, and a unmarked holotape. His eyes shifted over the contents as his mind raced with boundless possibilities of his current predicament. Was he knocked out and left there? Was this the after effects of a crazy night of over drinking? Was he abducted by aliens? He took a moment to collect himself as he ran his left hand through his hair. The corner of his eye caught the dim blue light radiating from his wrist as his ears detected its ticking. His face mixed a feeling of earnest and horror as he lowered his arm down in front of him.

It was a metallic object, the words "Pip-boy 4000" carved into the upper left frame of the blue screen next to small counter that read "Radiation Levels". The needle barely moved in the center of the display. The device was light weight but clung tight around his forearm. A few dials and knobs decorated the outside of the screen, making him feel a bit uneasy about the instrument. He looked it over a bit, only to find that there was no release button and the thought dawned on him strangely-it wasn't coming off unless it took his arm with it. After a moment of looking at a blank screen he mustered enough courage to reach for one of the dials on the tool and a few more moments to turn it. A faint buzz made the blue screen feature a series of unpronounceable words followed by the term "Space-time Recall Charge 48%", making a look of inquiry twist his expression.

His green eyes looked from his arm and to the canopy of snow covered forest. The snow fell gently to the earth with no interference of wind or breeze, but the surroundings were completely alien to him. He took a moment to breath slowly stuffing the items back into the leather bag. His legs were moving a bit more and he felt it was time to get to a warmer area before he froze over in the vast woods that surrounded him. Lifting the single strap over his head and placing it over his shoulder, the Engineer readied both his equilibrium as well as his right leg to plant the ground. He slid his leg back and placed the sole of his foot into the snow while steadying himself with his arms and pressing his chest against his knee. With a challenging heave of body weight and a sensation of lightheadedness, he slowly stood to his feet, knees stressing under him.

After knocking away the rest of the snow from his cloths he took yet another look around in hopes to find some sort of land marker to indicate what way north was exactly. Making a half step turn, his eyes found the mouth of a cave that was behind him the entire time. As he looked into the blackness of the cave his head slowly tilted as a mental strain fixed itself through expression. He searched his mind for any reason he would have been there but nothing surfaced. An easy shrug shifted his shoulders before he took and unsteady step in its direction followed by an unexplainable perception of danger that filled his mind. He didn't know why, but he knew not to enter the cave not even for the case of shelter.

A nervous tick found its way into the tip of his fingers as he bit the inside of his lip, assessing the situation at hand. He fought with his thoughts only in vain, his legs would not lead him any closer to the cave. Giving a long played-out sigh, he looked at his boots and then to his Pip-boy before turning the same knob from before once... and then twice to reveal a small map of the nearby area. He noted a small blue arrow pointing Northeast on the map. He took another half turn and realized as he moved so did the indicator. The Engineer gave a nod of comprehension and slowly turned his body to the nearest road, about half a mile to the Southwest, and began a steady pace in that direction.

His eyes took in the scenery as his hands clasped themselves to be shielded from the cold, the sensation of burning now being replaced by the bitterness of the cold air. The trees were all but bare of life, most of them still bearing leaves that caught falling snow from the sky. There was absolute silence throughout the whiteness of the forest that made him quite nervous as he drove father through the thick blankets of snow that were now getting ankle deep and getting deeper. The pounding in the back of his brain only worsened with efforted movements through the white hills until finally the young man stopped and reached into his satchel reaching for a bottle of water. For a reason beyond his understanding he knew that dehydration could cause migraines so he cracked open the plastic bottle top and guzzled down what was not frozen and pressed on.

He finally reached an opening in the forest where the map indicated a road would be and stopped at the edge of the forest line. A moment hung in the air as he debated his next direction. The closest place on the map was an average four miles south from his location at the time while the direction north was dormant and void of any land markers on the map. With his mind made up he made his way onto the road traveling South toward a location known as Portland. His heavy stride followed one another evenly over the snow covered road, leaving behind a steady trail of fresh prints behind, with one thing on his mind—answers.