Hello, this is my most recent attempt at writing a Fallout fan fiction series. Set in the state of Pennsylvania, Fallout: Lehigh Valley will follow the exploits of Marcus Holmes from his childhood to his days as an adult.
Just a brief forewarning, this series is going to have some rather descriptive details of character deaths and wounds that people receive. I figure that the wasteland isn't a friendly place, so why skimp on the gore, right?
Finally, I just want to state that I do not own the Fallout franchise (although I wish I did), it is the creative property of Bethesda Game Studios/Softworks.
With all that out of the way, I hope you enjoy the prologue to this series.
Rain, torrential rain. That was all that Lloyd Holmes could see, nothing at all past the small, cracked concrete stoop of his Fullerton home. He was supposed to be watching the endless darkness for signs of… well, something at least. The Town Watch in Allentown to the south had reported seeing raiders along the banks of the Lehigh River, which meant Lloyd had to be on the lookout. After all, he was a family man, and he would protect his family from anyone who would do them harm.
"Daddy, what are you doing out here in the rain?" A small voice crept out from the darkness, Lloyd's son, Marcus walked onto the porch. He was a small boy, even for a six-year-old, always wanting to see what his father was up to, a trait he gained from his old man of course.
"Watching the rain, Marcus, I couldn't sleep is all." Lloyd bent down onto one knee and placed his hand on his young son's shoulder. "Why aren't you in bed with your sister? It's past your bedtime."
"The thunder woke me up, and I couldn't go back to sleep." Marcus tried his best to appear near tears, hoping his father would let him stay out on the front porch with him.
"The thunder woke you up, huh." Standing up, Lloyd stepped inside and reached into the darkness of the houses small living room, shortly coming back outside with two small and worn down chairs. "Okay then, why don't you sit out here with me and watch the rain."
Elated, Marcus scrambled into one of the two chairs, his father taking a seat right beside him. The two sat in silence for a short while, until the entire sky lit up as a bolt of lightning shot across the horizon, then came the thunder, shaking what seemed to be the entire planet itself, at least in the mind of a child.
Marcus jumped out of his chair, startled, and hopped into his father's lap.
"That was a loud one, wasn't it son?" Lloyd asked the now terrified boy sitting in his lap. "Tell ya what, how about I tell you a story… about the world a long time ago."
Having gained the boy's attention, Lloyd looked down at his son before gazing off once more into the blackness of night.
"Long ago, in this very spot, things were different than they were now. People didn't have to fight with one another for food, there wasn't any radiation at all. Us people were the ones in charge, now we have to go up against Deathclaws and Mole Rats, just to live happy lives. Did you know that long ago in the past, Marcus, that people didn't even have to spend hours hunting for their meat?" He looked down at his now wide eyed son.
"They didn't?"
"Nope, they used to hop into their cars, you know, those rusty metal things on the road and drive them to a place called a supermarket, where they'd buy all the food and water they needed."
Woah! Why can't we do that?"
"Because, Marcus, hundreds of years before anyone you know was born, there was a war. Sort of like the games you and your friend Tyler play outside, with your toys." Lloyd paused, hoping that a six-year-old could comprehend the intricacies of politics and warfare.
"Oh, you mean army guys?"
"Yes! Like army guys. The only difference is that the countries that used to be all over the world fought each other, instead of it being a game between two kids. Anyway, there was a war, and when it was over, the world was ruined. Cities were blown up, a lot of people died and we all had to start everything over again."
"Why'd that happen, daddy?"
"Well, I don't really know. But because of them, this is the world we live in now. And we have to make the most of it. Do you understand?"
Marcus looked at his dad, bewildered. "Not really…"
"Huh, okay. What I mean, Marcus, is that this world isn't a great place all the time. There are plenty of bad men and women that'll hurt you for no good reason at all. But you can make the most of things by not being like them, by helping people and looking out for them. I want to make sure that you and your sister grow up to be good people." Realizing that his words were probably too advanced to be understood at such a young age, Lloyd simply stopped droning on about how being a good person was great, and figured that Marcus would understand as he got older.
As the two sat on the porch, watching the rain in silence, the world seemed almost perfect to Lloyd. He had his family, and they were safe. In this chaotic world, that's really all someone could as for.
A lone gunshot derailed his proverbial train of thought, followed by nearly a dozen more. The fire was distant, but far too close for comfort. Lloyd thought about what it could've been, an animal wandering near someone's house? No, a warning shot was all that was needed in nearly every case. Maybe it was a negligent discharge? No, who fires a gun off a dozen times on accident. Standing up from his chair, he muttered.
"Raiders."
Shouting echoed from down the street as the warm, yellow glow from torches made their way toward Lloyd's home. It wasn't the raiders he thought were at his doorstep, it was two of his neighbors as they sprinted towards him.
"Lloyd! They're back, we need everyone that can use a gun to get to the gate right now!" Shouted one of the men, his face was blocked by a dark hood, which was doing a poor job of keeping the rain off of his face, as he spit water out of his mouth after speaking.
"Okay, you keep going. Grab Daryl and Kyle, I'll grab my rile." Waving the men off, Lloyd grabbed Marcus by the arm and led him back inside, shutting and locking the door behind them. "Okay, Marcus, I need you to grab your mother and your sister and head down to the basement, lock the doors and don't open them for anyone but me, okay?"
Before the boy could respond, he grabbed a weathered hunting rifle from a cabinet near the front door, checked the magazine and cycled the bolt to ensure he was ready to fire.
Stepping back out onto the porch, the father looked back at his son, and spoke.
"Marcus, do what I told you and you'll be fine. I love you." Lloyd shut the door.
Now alone in the dark, Marcus began to cry silently. Running up the stairs he wordlessly grabbed his mother and sister and led them to the basement. His mother was confused at first, but the sound of gunshots and screaming alerted her to the situation.
Lloyd ran downhill, rifle in hand toward the small communities' gate. As he drew near, the sound of gunshots grew deafening. Crouching down behind an old Corvega sedan, he pulled his rifle to his shoulder and readied himself for a fight.
"They're getting through guys!" One of the hooded guards shouted as the small wooden gate began to creak open, the sound of dozens of raiders shouting at one another began to drown out anyone on the Fullerton side of the wall.
"Get on the wall then and shoot them!"
"We can't, they have snipers that shoot anyone who gets up there!"
"Fuck!"
As the panicked shouting of the guards and armed townsfolk grew more intense. One of the men, a friend of Lloyd's named Kyle stood up to get everyone's attention.
"Listen, we only have a few seconds until they force that gate open, so we need to get ready before they come in and start shootin-" Before he could finish, Kyle's left temple erupted into a geyser of blood, as he fell backwards another shot rang out as a bullet impacted his chest, tearing through one of his lungs and audibly snapping his spinal cord as it exited his body.
Collapsing to the ground, Kyle let out a horrific gurgling noise as he quickly succumbed to his wounds. Then the firefight began.
Over a dozen raiders forced their way into the town through a gap in the now broken gate. Gunfire sprayed sporadically from both sides of the engagement as people dove for cover. The first of the raiders began to fall, one taking a round from a handgun to the throat, another, who was on the receiving end of Lloyd's hunting rifle losing a good portion of her lower jaw. The Fullerton side of the battle was not immune to death, aside from Kyle, two guards had been lost in the opening blows of the fight, both receiving numerous gunshot wounds before dying in the street.
"We need to fall back! Everyone get to the hill! Evacuate the houses!" Lloyd was trying his best to organize the men as the raiders seemed to multiply in numbers every second, but alas, these men were not used to seeing the horrors of war, while neither was Lloyd, he filled the leader's role beautifully.
As he provided some form of suppressing fire with his bolt-action rifle, he looked back toward the hill, even if the rain shrouded his home, he could see it, he just hoped that he'd make it back.
Then the grenade went off.
Marcus was terrified, no longer because of the thunder, but because of the screaming and gunshots he heard from down the hill. His mother held he and his sister tight, but she couldn't quell his worries.
"Why isn't daddy back? He said he'd come back for us." Marcus said with a noticeable quiver in his voice.
"Soon, honey, soon." His mother said.
"I need to find him, what if he needs my help?" Marcus squirmed out of his mother's grip and ran up the stairs.
"Marcus, get back here!" His mother was on his heels, chasing her foolish son up the stairs, trying to grab him again.
As small and clumsy as children can be, Marcus was nimble. Dodging his mother's attempts to restrain him he made his way to the front door, threw open the lock and ran out into the rain. His mother shouting for him didn't slow him down at all.
In hindsight, he should've stayed with his mother. When he reached the bottom of the hill, the shooting and shouting had stopped.
"They won the fight." Marcus thought aloud. He couldn't have been further from the truth.
Corpses dotted the street, bodies of people he knew, and people he didn't who wore strange leather clothes. Among the carnage, was his father, laying face down in the street.
Running up to his father, Marcus collapsed in front of his head.
"Daddy get up, you need to come back now." He whispered as he grabbed his hands, trying not to begin sobbing.
After some struggle, Lloyd propped his head up on his arms, and looked at his son.
"Marcus, why are you here? You should be at home." He paused to cough, wiping his now bloody chin with his wrist, he continued. "Go, please go, grab your mother and sister and hide somewhere in the woods, get out of the house. Now! They're coming, quickly, hide in those bushes." Lloyd gestured to a low line of hedges a few feet from where he lay dying, as quickly as he could, Marcus crouched behind the foliage, his head barely peeking over the edge, nearly invisible in the night.
"Hey hey! Got a live on here!"
"Nice, let's make it so he's not a live one real quick."
Two raiders walked toward his father, both of them were large men, sporting shotguns and wearing the same strange leather armor Marcus saw on some of the dead people. Without hesitation, the largest of the two men flipped his father over, exposing what the grenade had done to him.
"Woah, I take the whole "live one" part of my statement back. Look at this guy! He's got one foot in the grave already." Lloyd winced in pain as the cold rain landed on his exposed intestines, the shrapnel from the grenade having torn him open.
The raider racked his shotgun, and placed the barrel directly against Lloyd's forehead.
"This is for the best bucko."
The blast of the shotgun was deafening, in an instant the man Marcus had idolized, the man he had loved, the man who raised him and told him stories about the world was no more than a headless corpse. Standing up from the bushes, Marcus ran. Not toward his home and the rest of his family, but toward the ramshackle wall that bordered his town. Finding the small hole he and his friends used to sneak outside easily, the boy squeezed through the gap and ran once more.
His tears blinding him, Marcus didn't see the small cliff that dropped down toward the river, stepping into the void, he tumbled down the embankment and into the a shallow section of the Lehigh River. The now soaking wet boy sat in the water, and began to sob again, he couldn't will himself to move.
He tried to find a way back up into the woods he tried to escape through, but by the time he found a way home, he found it no more than a smouldering mess. The moment he ran away from his mother and sister in the basement, was the last time he saw them alive.
Marcus, was alone.
Wow, looking back on this... I realize that this was really dark.
Anyway, thing's aren't looking great for our man Marcus here. We'll have to see how things go in the next chapter. We'll be seeing a bit of a time jump here so don't be alarmed if he's suddenly older by the next chapter.
Sorry if this was a little short, I didn't want to make the prologue overly long, as it's really supposed to be a brief introduction to the characters or the opening of the main plot.
Thanks for reading, I'll have the next chapter or two up by the end of this week hopefully.