Well, I'm back, the next installment of New Hope. Hope you enjoy it as much I did bringing it to you. I don't own fallout

June 27, 2294 Megaton 9:45

The rusted metal plates that made up the walkways and buildings of Megaton creaked as Marc walked down towards Gob's Saloon. Settlers and other residents greeted Marc as he passed them, a kind word and greeting was the most; most knew him because of his father.

Shaking his head as he filed past them, "Will I only be known for my Father's deeds?" He wondered, ducking under an overhang with loose electrical wires hanging from it. Stepping closer, he carefully peeled back the loose wires casing, discovering that they had been cut by a blunt knife; the tearing instead of cutting was evidence enough.

Frowning, he examined the wires closer; they had indeed been cut by a blunt knife. "Hmm, better tell Simms, raiders might be growing a brain." He laughed at the thought, he remembered Simms and Gob telling him of when a gang of raiders used to attempt to raid Megaton. Simms had said that they never succeeded, only killed a few squatters; but Megaton didn't have enough fighters to take the fight to the raiders.

Tucking the wires back into their conduit box, he turned and walked down the dirt hill, well, it was more like a mud hill. Since his father had brought pure water to the Wasteland; there has been much more rain. Most has been slightly irradiated, but Doc Church had studied it closely and said that with each rain storm, there is less radiation.

The Doc said that in a few months, there would be no traces of radiation remaining; causing new growth to sprout forth much more quickly. Already there was evidence of new life in the once barren Wasteland; Nova had already begun planting a garden with supplies from Dr. Li and selling the vegetables to the traders like Wolfgang, Crow, and Doc Hoff. The traders helped spread seeds and other gardening tools to the other towns, allowing them to grow their own produce.

Arriving at Simms' house, Marc stared at the door, rusted and beaten. Simms had been like a father to him since Marc's dad had disappeared when he was five years old. Fishing in his pocket for the spare key, Marc wondered "Wonder where he is now, dead in a ditch for all I care…old bastard."

Finally finding his key, Marc slid it in the keyhole and entered the house. Dropping his bag as he walked into the dining room, he noticed Hardin fiddling with an old hunting rifle his father has had for years. Marc grinned; Hardin was so engrossed in his work that he hadn't even noticed Marc walk in and drop his satchel.

Pulling free his combat knife, he grinned darkly. Crouching slightly, like Simms taught him, he snuck up behind the twenty-two year old boy. Marc was just about to jump Hardin when he felt something cold and hard press against his neck.

"Drop it, kid." echoed a deep voice, gritty and rough from years of living in the Wasteland. Dropping the knife, Marc grinned as he turned around, facing Simms and shrugging his shoulders.

"I could never sneak up on you, could I?" asked Marc as Simms holstered his .44 magnum. Shaking his head, Simms walked over to Hardin; still hunkered down over the rifle.

Slapping the back of Hardin's head, he turned to Marc. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of the visit of Marc Walsh, amateur adventurer and attempted assassin?" said Simms as he pulled a beer and Nuka-Cola from the battered fridge. Tossing the Cola to Marc, Simms popped the bottle cap off and tossed it into a jar full of them.

Turning towards his father, Hardin wiped his hands with an oily rag. Nodding his head towards Marc, he looked at his father.

"Where's mine?" he asked, pointing towards Marc's drink. "I've been working on this rifle all day, I'm thirsty."

Laughing at his son, Simms simply said "Hardin, you almost got your throat slit by a seventeen year old." Looking at Marc, who had a smug grin on his face and was sipping on the flat Pre-War soda. "I don't think you deserve one, seeing as you should be dead. Besides, it's time for your patrol around town." He said, unpinning his badge and tossing it on the table.

Sighing as he snapped off his desk lamp, Hardin stood, picking up the weathered gold star. Walking towards the cabinet next to the door, he reached in and pulled an old, battered, double-barrel shotgun free from its casing.

As he slung the shotgun, he turned towards Marc. "Next time you come by I'll be ready for you, so you'd better be ready for me." He said pinning the badge to his shirt and filling his pockets with spare shells. He nodded towards his father as he walked out of the house; his boots echoing against the rusted metal that made up the walkways.

As the door closed, Simms leaned forward in his chair and taking a sip from his beer. "Marc, I know this isn't a social visit." He said, setting his drink on the table in front of him.

Sighing and draining the last of the cola in one gulp, Marc tossed the now empty bottle in the wastebasket adjacent to his chair. Marc tossed the bottle cap in the air, catching it and examining it closely. His eyes scanned over the dirty cap, its color faded and chipped away after two hundred years.

"Well, it seems we have a problem." He said, putting the bottle cap in his duster pocket. "As I was walking to the main gate, I noticed some wiring was loose from its casing."

Simms leaned forward, his chair creaking slightly. "Marc, what was wrong with the wires?" he said placing his hand on the table. "I need to know what was wrong, what exactly was wrong." He exclaimed.

Stunned by the urgency in his voice, Marc stumbled over his words. "I…I noticed that they were cut by a blunt knife." he stammered, trying to regain his breath. "I think someone, raiders probably, are going to try to take Megaton."

Lucas leaned back, his chair creaking again."Marc, I don't need you tell anyone about this." He said standing up. "I just need you to go about your day as normal, but I need a scout to recon the area outside Megaton." Simms walked towards his bookcase, stating instructions all the way.

He picked up a revolver, placed there earlier. He flicked the loader open, quickly loading it with .357 rounds from his belt. Finishing, he holstered it and pulled his leather jacket from the coat stand next to him.

"I'm going to inform Stockholm of your findings, perhaps we'll find the culprits." He said as he walked from his house; the door swinging shut behind him.

Sighing to himself, Marc picked his satchel up, swinging it on his back. He too opened the door and stepped out from the house. Tightening the straps, Marc started forward towards the gates.

The gate of Megaton echoed across the Wastes, Marc looked over his shoulder. The deputy robot was still standing vigil as always, its programming had and never will change. Looking out into the open land, he started forward, pulling his sunglasses onto his face.

"Well, maybe I can find something worthwhile out in this land."

The alarms blared as Lucie Almodovar ran down the corridors, red lights flashing wildly as smoke poured from the vents. She ran faster, sweat pouring down her face, stinging her eyes; Lucie rounded the corner. Her lungs burned as the smoke filled her mouth; she stumbled into the medical bay.

"Mother!" she screamed, falling to the floor as Overseer Almodovar twisted around from the gurney in front of her. The body, a resident of the vault, convulsed one last time. Amata ran to Lucie, pulling her onto her shoulder.

"Lucie!" screamed Amata as they stumbled towards Vault 101's exit. "We need to get to the emergency tunnel, only then will we be safe." She pulled a rebreather onto her face, assisting Lucie with hers.

They stumbled through the hallways, lights flashing and the alarms only getting louder as they neared the exit. Amata rounded the corner first, looking over her shoulder at Lucie as she entered the Vault door control room. Lucie pulled a 10mm SMG free from the bloody hands of a vault guard, killed in the earlier attack.

Turning towards the hallway they had just run down, she fires a burst at the shadows following them. The figures slammed against the bulkheads, seeking cover where none existed. They returned fire, red lasers and globs of burning green plasma burned the metal around her; burning her right arm.

"Mother, anytime now!" she yelled as she fired another burst down the corridor. Just as she said the words the large metal door groaned open, dirt and grime falling from its ancient cogs. Lucie grinned as the opening grew larger, firing another burst; she sprinted towards the opening. Clearing the area outside, she waved her mother forward.

Grinning again, she shouted to her mother "Come on, we're almost there."

Yet, the words came too soon. One distinct laser blast sounded out above the rest. Lucie's eyes widened as Amata's mouth hung open; a trickle of blood seeping from her mouth, she stumbled forward. Lucie ran forward, only to be driven back by red blasts of burning fire.

"Mother!" she screamed, her voice shrill. Amata crawled towards the vault door, blood trickling between her fingers, lying against the cold and unforgiving metal.

"Lucie…run." She whispered, blood freely flowing from her mouth. "You have…to leave me." She said as she pulled a black device from her breast pocket. Lucie stared at her mother, tears flowing free and mouth open in a silent scream.

"GO NOW!" Amata screamed, pulling her pistol free and firing towards the shadows. Lucie turned and ran from the doorway, stumbling over rocks and rubble strewn across the tunnel. As she reached the ancient door, she stole one last look towards her mother and stepped through the doorway into the Wastes.

Amata looked towards her daughter, sighing as she felt her blood seeping from her veins. Her smile, growing as the door closes. "Good girl, time for you to grow up." Looking down at her palm, she caressed the deadly object, the detonator waiting to be used. Smiling as she pressed the trigger, only one thought passed through her mind.

"Where are you Kyle Walsh?" her thumb dropping off the trigger, the signal sent to blocks of C4 placed throughout the Vault. That signal bounced from block to block and activated their explosive power. The blast echoed through the vault, fire burning the still bodies of the residents and attacker alike. The shadows ran toward the entrance, the fire engulfing them, their screams falling on deaf ears.

The fire rushed forth, drawing Amata's eyes. "Goodbye Lucie…goodbye Kyle." She thought as the fires engulfed her body, giving her the only honorable death she deserved.

Well, what did yall think? Epic enough death for Amata…doesn't deserve it if ya ask me. For the love of all that is holy, review! I'm dying here people.