Hey all:D I'll keep this short and sweet- just thanking to everyone that favorited and story alerted :D It's nice to know that there are people that are interested in something a fourteen year old wrote, and really, it's very uplifting. If you haven't done so, please spend the time to review. I would love to hear from any and all feedback.
"The journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step."
-Lao Tzu
Holotape dated: August 23, 2277, 11:27 PM, Galaxy News Radio
James
I have forgotten how dangerous the Wastelands are... too much time playing doctor, I suppose. Thank God that I had some sense to practice shooting with Nathaniel before I left. Otherwise, I would be dead by now...A depressing thought, but it makes me walk faster when I'm tired, and fight harder when I'm cornered.
It's been a bit over a month since I left the Vault. In that time, I have helped whoever came my way, in any way I can. I guess it's my way to atone for stopping the project. Doctors are needed in the Wastelands more than ever now. It should be a sad occurrence, but people these days are so used to injuries, death, and destruction that it doesn't matter if someone is injured, or killed. If people get injured, others think, "They'll get better, no big deal," or, "God, I hope he/she gets better," or even, "If they can't handle a gun, they're nothing more than a deadweight." If someone dies, others around them usually think, "At least it isn't me." (long sigh) Humanity has gotten more callous and cold-hearted as of late, or maybe we were like that since we figured out the killing capabilities of stick and stone, and the destructive abilities of fire.
I have traveled to see a friend I haven't seen in a long time. Three-Dog's as cheerful as the last time I saw him, if a bit more sober. He has more grey in his hair now, I notice, from "nearly being killed a couple hundred times by Super Mutants." "Even a Behemoth wants me dead!" he says, laughing, "The Brotherhood of Steel helps a lot too. Without them, I'd be turned into Three-Dog stew by now! If I'm lucky!" (chuckles softly) Three-Dog... He always had this way of exaggerating things that made it more believable.
We shared some news over a bottle of scotch, for me, and whiskey, for him. He asks about my life in the Vault, to which I, to make a long story short, said that it was blissfully and agonizingly dull. He also asks about my son, who I say is in the Vault... and probably mad at me for leaving him. I sigh, "I don't blame him either." I said, "I would be furious if my own father left me this way." Three-Dog chuckles, "Well...you did what you can, right? How he reacts to this 'protection' is up to him. But..." He takes another sip of whiskey.
"Does your kid go by Hawkeye?"
I raise one eyebrow at him, "No. His name is Nathaniel. Why do you ask?"
"Oh, just coincidence, I suppose. That when you left the Vault that another Vault Dweller does the same. Rumours say he looks an awful lot like you... without the greys, I mean." He laughs.
I drink my scotch thoughtfully. "You know... that's impossible, the Overseer wouldn't allow another to leave as I did." He lowers his drink from his lips, and puts it down, looking at me seriously. "Don't be saying the "i" word just yet Doc. This kid's becoming the best thing since someone figured out how to cook Brahmin steaks. He saved Megaton from being blown to heaven-knows-where not even a month ago when he came in. He cleaned out the Raiders in Springvale, so now they won't be botherin' anyone no more. He saved the people of Big Town from being killed by Super Mutants, and two of their own from being their next meal. People say this kid's a crackshot with a gun, untouchable with nothing but a knife, and the freaking devil with his fists. In fact, they say this kid got his nickname from savin' Lucas Simms from a guy named Mr. Burke. He was the one who tried to blow up Megaton, I hear, but was foiled by that crazy kid from Vault 101. Shot him between the eyes before he could pull his gun on Simms. " He reaches for his glass and takes another sip of whiskey.
"And yet... even while he does all that, he's asking 'round for info on a grey-haired man, mid-fifties, who is a scientist, doctor, and a father to him... Sounds like anyone you know?" I say nothing while I drain my shot in one while he finishes his. "Ahhhhh. Well, with those insightful words of wisdom from the great and all-powerful Three-Dog from Galaxy News Radio, Lord of the Wastes, I leave you to rest up and dream some blissful dreams." He stood up and gave a mock bow as he says this, grinning. "Aw, don't look so down Doc. Just be happy that this Hawkeye, whoever he is, is doing some good in the world. Try to keep an eye out for him, would'ja? I think you'll love to meet him." And with that, he sauntered off, telling me where my bed is, and that I'm welcome to stay as long as I like.
Nathaniel...I hope that isn't you. God knows the Vault isn't perfect, but it's safe. I even told you not to follow me... (sigh) then again, you are your mother's son. Stubborn as a bull, and always wanting to know the hows and whys... Still... If that was you Three-Dog was talking about, I am proud, so proud, of what you've accomplished in a short amount of time. I should have known that you would've followed me, if not for me, to explore the outside... I hope you're alright... Catherine's ghost would haunt me till I'm dead if her only son was, God-forbid, eaten by a Mirelurk or killed by a Super Mutant (chuckles)
Although... if what Three-Dog says is true, there's no way you'd be killed by either.
Holotape ended on: August 23, 2277, 12:15 PM, Galaxy News Radio
