Chapter 2

Monday Morning

Taking care of a baby was hard and thankless work, but it was worth it. My baby boy was born happy and healthy and weighed 7 and a half pounds exactly. Now he's at ten pounds two months later and already learning how to use a pacifier. I decided to feed him formula instead of breastfeed him, because Nate seemed to think it was gross or something. I don't know. That, however, left me with the annoying task of emptying the milk out myself in the bathroom sink, which was sort of weird, and taking a pill that caused me to stop producing it.

Nate insisted on getting a Mister Handy bot to work around the house for us. I finally said yes, because he was going to do it with or without my permission anyway. He had been itching to spend his money on something expensive and shiny for a while now.

We ordered the Mister Handy, and he turned out to be a blessing. We called him Codsworth. He had a large, round frame made of shiny metal and a jet underneath that allowed him to hover above the ground. He had three sensors that served as his eyes, and they protruded from the top of his rounded body like a slug's eyes. He also had three long appendages. On the end of each appendage was a different tool. One was a grabber that served as his hand of sorts, so he could pick up and move items. One was a miniature flamethrower, to what purpose I wasn't sure. And the other was a buzz saw, used mostly on weeds and small trees during gardening. He had a hidden compartment on the back of his body that he could store a lot of different things in, including bottles of water, first aid, and keys.

Not only was he a babysitter, but he could cook and clean and garden for me. He was even better than a watchdog when it come to protecting the house. I didn't have a care in the world; I could prop my feet up and let Codsworth do all the hard work while I could enjoy the more comforting moments with Shaun, like holding him and rocking him to sleep and talking to him. I would have been able to go back to work without having to worry about being tired.

Codsworth had a distinct proper British accent and was very polite. I'm sure it was a part of his programming, but there were times where he could be a bit snarky and opinionated – mostly about the neighbors. He made me laugh. Eventually, he caught on to all the routines and goings-on around the house. He would be my listening ear when I was upset, and he could always keep a secret. I was beginning to worry for my own mental health, however, being such good friends with a robot.

One day in particular, Nate was at work, and Shaun was asleep. So it was just me and Codsworth in the living room. He hovered next to me as I watched TV. Two of his sensors were directed toward the TV, one focused on me, as it usually was. He would make comments every now and then about the show I was watching. It was some game show, nothing special. I didn't like watching the news like Nate did. It was too depressing; our economy was in such horrible shape. Codsworth made me hot chocolate to chase away the chill and he gossiped about the neighbors. Then Codsworth said, "I feel a great deal of affection for this family, mum," and we were best friends ever since.

A month later, Nate was at home with me. It was a crisp Monday morning in October, and the leaves were changing color. Little Shaun was already three months old. All the Halloween decorations were out in the neighborhood. I got out of bed and heard Nate in the bathroom taking a shower. I got dressed and met him in the bathroom, where he had already dried off and was fixing his hair in the mirror.

"War never changes," he mumbled as if rehearsing.

I grinned at him. "You're gonna knock 'em dead at the veterans hall tonight," I assured him.

"You think?"

"Absolutely. Now get ready and stop hogging the mirror."

"Alright."

I watched him fuss with his face and hair until he felt that he looked good enough to get dressed.

"My turn, big guy," I teased, side-stepping in front of him. I fixed my hair and makeup as usual. He dressed himself and returned to the bathroom, insisting that he needed to do one more thing.

"Hon," I objected.

"Why don't you see if breakfast is ready?"

I sighed and walked out of the bathroom. Codsworth stood in the kitchen with a coffee pot in one appendage. "Ah, good morning, Mum! Your coffee for you. One-hundred and seventy-three point five degrees Fahrenheit. Brewed to perfection."

"Thanks, Codsworth." I took the coffee pot from him and poured it into a mug he had set out for me; my favorite mug, to be exact.

"Of course, Mum!" He turned his attention back to the sink and started washing the dishes.

I rummaged through the fridge to see what there was to see. I was debating on doing grocery shopping. It was unbearably bare in there. We had a stock of Nuka Cola, milk, and Salisbury Steaks. I went back to my coffee mug and took a sip, taking notice of Nate's Grognak the Barbarian comic that he left laying on the counter and smirked.

Nate entered the room and picked up the newspaper from the counter that Codsworth had brought in this morning.

Shaun started crying in his bedroom then.

"Ah, sounds like someone made a stinky," said Codsworth. "I shall tend to young Shaun." He made his way to Shaun's bedroom immediately.

Nate spoke. "I know we were nervous at first, but I'm glad we got Codsworth."

I smiled and looked over his shoulder to see the headlines of today's paper, the Boston Bugle. Nothing but rumors of bombs. More of the same, I thought. The weather forecast was playing on the TV in the background. I absentmindedly watched the weather report and sipped on my coffee.

"We should take Codsworth to be serviced soon, don't you think?" Nate muttered behind me. "Ah, and it's almost Halloween. We need to finish making Shaun's costume . . ."

The crying stopped, but Codsworth was still in Shaun's room. "How's it going in there, Codsworth?" I called.

"Just fine, Mum! And don't you think about touching the laundry! Ha ha! I'll get that!"

I chuckled at him.

The doorbell rang suddenly.

Nate sighed. "It's that salesman again. I don't know why he keeps bothering you."

Me? I scoffed. There's more than one adult living in this house . . .

Since he obviously wanted me to get the door, I straightened my light blue button-up blouse and put my coffee mug on the counter. I opened the door, and sure enough, a salesperson stood there. He had a pale yellow hat and coat, and a red tie. His hair was borderline ginger and he had a huge smile on his face. He held a pen and clipboard in his hands.

"Good morning! Vault-Tec calling!" He tipped his hat.

"Go on," I said, humoring him.

"Nice to finally find you, ma'am. You can't begin to know how happy I am to finally speak with you. I've been trying for days. It's a matter of utmost urgency, I assure you."

"The-e-en, I'm glad I opened the door," I smiled.

"Oh-ho, me too. You have no idea. Now, I know you're a busy woman, so I won't take up much of your time. Time being a precious commodity. I'm here today to tell you that because of your family's service to our country, you have been pre-selected for entrance into the local vault! Vault 111!"

This piqued my interest. "Sounds . . . great."

"Oh, it is, believe you me. Now, you're already cleared for entrance, in the unforeseen event of, ahem, total atomic inhialation. I just need to verify some information, that's all."

"Tell me more about this vault."

"Oh, it has all the amenities of a modern home, I assure you. Not to mention total protection from nuclear radiation and hostile mutants. 'A Better Future Underground.' It's not only our mission, it's our passion."

Now it was just starting to sound like that bullshit on the news. "The apocalypse? Well, Hell, sign me up!" I stifled a laugh.

He laughed awkwardly. "That's the spirit, heh. Now, let's see . . ."

He proceeded to ask me questions about my weight, height, diet, and other things, like if I wore glasses or contact lenses, was currently on any medication, etcetera. He asked me my occupation, my full name, my husband's full name, and my child's full name. He also asked me if I had any disabilities or bad habits, such as smoking or drinking. I went along with it all, giving him our information. I mean, I didn't believe we were on the brink of the end of the world, but this vault thing sounded like a good idea for just-in-case purposes. And as far as I knew, it was free. The only thing I didn't like was that we weren't allowed to take our robot with us.

"Wonderful! That's everything . . . Just gonna walk this over to the Vault!" He awkwardly backed out of the doorway. "Congratulations on being prepared for the future!"

As he rushed down the sidewalk, I called after him, "Um . . . Thanks again . . ." I shut the door and locked it.

"Hey," said Nate from the couch, "it's peace of mind. That's worth a little paperwork, right?"

I gave him a half smile. "For you and Shaun, no price is too high."

"Good answer."

"I have my moments," I sat with him on the couch.

Shaun started crying again from his room.

Codsworth entered the living room. "Mum, Shaun has been changed, but he absolutely refuses to calm down. I think he needs some of that 'maternal affection' you seem to be so good at."

"Go ahead, honey," Nate said with his nose in the TV. "I'll be there in a second to help."

I got back up and walked to Shaun's room. "Hey, little guy," I said to the crying baby, rubbing his belly with the palm of my hand. His crying subsided and he cooed with pleasure.

After a few moments, Nate appeared in the doorway. "My boy isn't giving his mother any trouble, is he? Hey, I just fixed that mobile on his crib the other day. Why don't you give it a spin?"

I spun the mobile over Shaun's head that had three red and white rocket ships on it. He giggled with excitement as it played a lullaby.

"That's my boy," Nate said. "On his best behavior, just like his dad. Well, most of the time, anyway . . ." Nate turned his attention toward me and suddenly got a spark in his eye. "Listen, after breakfast, I was thinking we could head to the park for a bit. Weather should hold up."

I was surprised. It had been a while since he wanted to go anywhere. I felt like ever since we had Shaun, we had re-entered our honeymoon phase or something.

I wanted to suggest something more adventurous. "Let's get some pumpkins instead. Carve Jack-o-Lanterns!" I was getting excited, myself.

Codsworth called from the living room with concern in his robotic voice. "Sir! Mum! You should come and see this!"

"Codsworth? What's wrong?" Nate answered.

We made our way to the living room with haste. I took Shaun in my arms before leaving the room. Codsworth had turned the TV up for us to hear.

The news anchor sounded very upset, which was unlike anything I usually saw on the news. Most anchors were very collected. I rocked Shaun in my arms but he cried for his daddy, so I handed him to Nate. Nate cradled him against his chest.

"Followed by . . . yes, followed by flashes, blinding flashes. Sounds of explosions . . . We're . . . we're trying to get confirmation . . ." There was a pause. "We seem to have lost contact with all our stations."

"What did he say?" asked Nate with disbelief.

"Oh no . . ." I breathed. I didn't want to think about what was going on.

The news anchor went on. "We do – we do have . . . coming in . . . confirmed reports . . . I repeat, confirmed reports of nuclear detonations in New York and Pennsylvania. My God . . ." The news anchor covered his face with one hand, at a loss, his own realization sinking in.

"Oh, my God . . ." Nate held Shaun close to him.

"We need to get to the vault. Now!"

"I've got Shaun! Let's go!"

I called over my shoulder. "Codsworth . . . be safe!"

"You as well, Mum! Oh, dear . . ."

We sprang out the door. As soon as we did, alarms started going off outside from what sounded like all directions. We left poor Codsworth in the house. It was total chaos outside in an instant. The townspeople were fleeing. There were armed soldiers outside on the sidewalk and aircraft overhead. Did they know it was coming before we did?

"Residents of Sanctuary Hills," said a man over a loudspeaker. "If you are registered, evacuate to Vault 111 immediately!"

Shaun started bawling due to the quick, bouncing movements of Nate running with him in his arms. He was obviously scared by all the loud noises.

Nate held him closer to his chest. "Hold on, little guy! Hold on . . . !"

Vault registered or not, everyone in town was running toward the direction of the vault. Everyone crowded around the gates, hoping that the personnel there would take pity on them and have mercy. They were wrong. Only the people on the list were allowed inside the vault. The horrifying reality that their time was running short struck me and churned my stomach.

"That's absurd!" yelled a familiar voice at the gate. It was the salesman from just half an hour ago. "I am Vault-Tec!"

"You're not on the list. You don't get in." The soldier at the gate crossed his arms.

"I'm going in. You can't stop me."

A soldier from behind him pulled a gun on him, and everyone started freaking out.

"Whoa, whoa!" The salesman held up his hands. "Okay, okay!" He turned to run away. "I'm reporting this!" he shouted as he gained distance.

The soldier at the gate announced to the crowd of people, "If you're in the program, step forward. Otherwise, return home!"

I pushed past the people and addressed the soldier. "We need to get in! We're on the list!"

He checked his papers. "Name, please."

"Nora Isham. My husband is Nate Isham, and our son is Shaun Isham. Please, hurry!" It was appalling to me how all the soldiers so calmly took their time.

"Okay, go ahead." He motioned us through.

"Thank you!" Nate cried.

"Good luck, sir."

In the background, a woman screamed, "We're going to die out here!" I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as we ran for safety and left everyone else behind.

"You two, follow me! Come on!" A soldier led us to the vault entrance.

"What's going to happen to all those people outside the gate?" Nate asked.

"We're doing everything we can, now keep moving!"

We ran up to a gear-shaped platform that was painted blue, grey, and yellow. There were already a few other people there from our town. Others I didn't recognize. Perhaps they were from Quincy. Maybe even from Boston.

"Step on the platform, in the center!" called a soldier.

"Almost there," I said with relief. "Is Shaun okay?"

"He's fine. We're gonna be okay." Nate looked me in the eyes. "I love you."

Before I could say it back, a nuclear explosion went off mere miles south of our town. An orange mushroom cloud lit up the sky. It was massive; the deadliest, most incredible thing I'd ever seen. We screamed and panicked, but none of us dared run, not when we were so close to safety.

A soldier was yelling to another who stood inside a small operating room where the large lever controlling the vault's entrance was contained. "NOW! NOW! SEND IT DOWN NOW!"

"Hold on!" I yelled to my husband who clutched our baby tightly to his chest.

The floor beneath us started to move. It gave way and we started descending into the vault. It felt like it was taking an eternity. The explosion was sending a wave of desolation through the distant trees, and it was only a matter of seconds before it reached us.

"Can't this thing move any faster?!" yelled Mr. Whitfield in front of me.

His wife went into a panic as our heads finally reached the edge of the entrance. "Oh god oh god oh god oh god . . ."

There was a "whoosh" of air over our heads. You could almost feel the power of the bomb first hand as the force barely missed us. In that moment, as the vault entrance closed over our heads, I knew that everyone standing outside – the soldiers, my neighbors – was dead.