Chapter 2

So, I may have been stretching things a bit when I said I was a Wastelander. That isn't strictly true. In all honesty, the best thing I can say is that I'm a Raider. A bonafide, Thieving, Drugged-up, Shoot-your-face-as-soon-as-look-at-you kinda raider. I used to run with the scariest and most ruthless crew in the Mojave, barring the Legion. I used to be a Fiend, and I'm almost proud of that.

I walked over to where he fell. he was sprawled in a pool of blood on the shiny metal. The vault boy wasn't carrying much, but what he had on him was at least interesting. The Vault-suit was okay looking but I left it, really didn't feel like peeling off the guy. What he had on his arm, however, was what interested me most. It was a Pip-boy. wrist-mounted model that looked comfortable, durable, and old. I undid the latches and tugged it off of him, placing it on my own arm. After a few seconds it bipped and beeped at me, indicating it was synced with its new owner.

I don't think I need to explain how phenomenally useful it would be having a portable all-in-one, Health-monitor/Geiger-counter/whatever else the little gadget could do. As such, I was happy as a mire-lurk munching on a toddler when I put that thing on my arm. I was almost too ecstatic to notice his face when I turned him over to pat him down.

Or rather, his lack of face, as things turned out. the exit wounds from two 10mm bullets left him with one chiseled jawline and not much else. I shuddered, but I had seen worse. I've seen my boss slow roast people...before and after doing worse things to them. Memories had the habit of making me freeze sometimes, so I kinda had to shake myself outta my funk before getting the rest of vault-boy's swag.

He also had a snub-nosed 10mm pistol, a security baton and a couple other sorta useful things. No duct tape though, but I suppose you cant get everything. The question was, do I gather up my new found treasures and leave? Or do I explore the vast mysteries that lay beneath my feet.

"I mean, on the one hand: this guy probably didn't know what all coulda been useful down there... on the other, there could be anything down there, and clearly vault-boy didn't wanna stay." after more internal and external debate, I settled on leavin'. I had this place marked on my map after all, I could come back with a team if I wanted. meanwhile, no one was getting in without a pip-boy, right? So no worries.

I looked at the map, there it was, marking reading 'vault 111.' Oh! So the lines on his back were numbers. That made sense. I couldn't really remember the last time I'd seen a vault-jumper up close. I mean I might've, but ... anyway. I decided to head to the next little blip the map showed.

"Sanctuary Hills..." I muttered, "Sounds... nice. hope they're not expecting visitors."

Sanctuary Hills, as indicated by the map on the Pip-boy, was a ruin of barely standing houses. their steel beams sticking up from collapsed roofs and walls like bone out of decayed flesh. There were maybe three houses that were still standing. Gave me the creeps I can tell you. The only time I felt somewhat at ease was when I smashed a few bloat-flies and radroaches with the new baton from vault-boy. Good eating, radroach, if you got past the whole giant bug thing. Didn't folks used to eat huge red bugs boiled in butter of somethin' way back when? Lobster I think it was called.

I suppose I should have been grateful to see the Mr. Handy bobbin and snipping at some hedges nearby one of the houses, but I had been to some of the old factories that are left out in the wastes. There's a good reason most scavengers leave them alone if they don't have military hardware. Between saw-blades, flamethrowers and those weird looking pincer hands its a wonder they never rose up and conquered us before the bombs dropped. That's not even considering the suped-up military version, Mr. Gutsy, and they are still pretty much the bottom-tier of killer robots in the wasteland.

I decided to approach cautiously. I sort of crept up behind it, Charlotte ready in my hand. As soon as I rounded the bend I grunted in what I hoped was a commanding voice.

"Claws and Appendages in the air, Metal Man." It may have sounded cooler in my head. The robot turned, and basically nearly killed me with surprise by trilling happily through his vocalizer.

"AS I LIVE AND BREATHE...IT'S YOU...ITS REALLY REALLY YOU!"

On my way to Concord, I reflected on the hows and whys regarding my sudden change in destination. After I picked my eyebrows up from where they had landed after rocketing off my forehead, I think I responded to the giddy robot with something along the lines of...

"Wha?" It might have been as provocative as "Huh?"

"I see Sir is a touched shell shocked." the robot whirs a little, "Pardon the inelegant turn of phrase Sir. Oh but it's so GOOD to see Sir at last after so many years!" the Mr. Handy seemed positively giddy, and for whatever reason, thought it knew me. I of course had never seen it before in my life.

"Uh. Years. Really." I was still kinda thrown by the jolly tin can, "How many would that be?" I also figured the happier it was, yappin' away at me, the less likely it would take it's buzz-saw to my cranium.

"Yes well, if my chronometer is still functioning properly I would say its been 210, give or take a little for the earth's rotation. What will the Missus say? Doesn't do to be two hundred years late to dinner!"

"Hold on, Missus?"

"Yes, the Missus! oh she'll be furious with what's happened to the garden..." the little eye-stalk things drooped when it brought this up. "where is she by the by?"

"She...ah. isn't...Erm. I don't have a..." I honestly had no idea what to tell this metal moron. I didn't know why it thought I was his master, and no idea who this 'Missus' was. "She's gone. Not here. Probably dead, Idunno." I gave him my best 'What can ya do' kinda shrug.

"Sir... these things you're saying, these ...Horrible things." the voice, quivering almost, but perhaps that was just static, "I...I believe you need a distraction. Yes! a distraction to calm this your nerves. Clearly you're not at all well."

"Uh... sure?"

"Oh, lovely! this will be just the ticket!" the robot bubbled with servile glee, "It's been so long since we had a proper family activity. Checkers, or perhaps Charades! Shaun always did like charades.. Is young master Shaun with you?"

"Who's master Shaun?"

The robot stared at me with all three of his weird bubble eyes.

"...What."

"It's worse than I thought... you're experiencing hunger induced ... amnesia! not eating properly for two hundred years will do that I'm afraid."

"Look. Robot."

"Codsworth, Sir."

"Robot. I don't have any idea what you're on about. Are you broken or something? You keep yapping on about things that don't make sense"

"Oh... oh my Sir. It's just been Horrible." it practically sobbed. "Two Centuries of not having anyone to talk to, anyone to serve." Oho? "I spent the first decade trying to keep the floors waxed, but nothing gets nuclear fallout from vinyl wood, Nothing!" it zoomed a bit close to my face, "And don't get me started on the futility of dusting a collapsed house... and the Car. The Car! How do you polish RUST?"

Things were getting off track in an incredibly crazy way. "Metal man. Do you know anything about ...Food around here? People in the area? Towns? Anything?"

"I'm afraid I don't know much at all, Sir. The bombs came" oh here we go again. I sort of tuned out while the robot yammered on and on about the bombs from the war supposedly 200 years ago. I only started paying attention again when it started pushing a holotape into my chest.

"Whats this?"

"I believe its a private message for you sir."

"hm."

"Perhaps we... could search the town for signs of them?"

"It's a ghost town, Robot. no one's here besides you, maybe a few radroaches but that's it."

"Well, you Can't give up, Sir. What about the city?" City? Finally some progress. "Concord is nearby, and well, the people there have only shot at me a few times."

"...Can't imagine why." I grumbled, "Well that settles it, I'm going traveling."

"Good luck sir, I'm sure you'll find young Shaun. I'll just... stay here and secure the home-front."

So now I was off to Concord. Hell, the robot might even be right, If there were rough characters back there, I might be able to join up with a new gang. It'd been a lonely six years since I left the Mojave. Who knows? There might even be decent pickings if I kept my eyes open, and Sanctuary Hills had potential to be a first rate Raider...town? outpost? HQ?