Chapter 3

Terra Nova

Gone... They're all gone... Radio chatter from the various military installations back home was being broadcasted on all channels. This was finally happening, the end of days. Johnson looked to the smoking remains of the silo. He saw his failure, his failure alone had resulted in the entire destruction of civilization on Earth. Johnson sat against a piece of concrete that had been blown apart by a Gauss Rifle round against the bunker. As he looked to his right, and to his left, he saw nothing but blood and broken armor. His squad was completely destroyed. Simply overrun by the sheer volume of fire that had engulfed them. Even with all the strength power armor provided, it only takes one bullet to break the seal on it, and once you lose the seal, the armor can fall apart. Johnson was bleeding badly from multiple rounds to his legs, his armor gave him a shot of Med-X to keep the pain at bay, and a stimpack to try and provide some form of quick healing, but they were grave wounds. He simply slumped against the concrete bunker, this place would become his tomb, as the rest of America suffered for his own inadequacy.

"This is Zulu Actual, is anyone still out there?" the radio buzzed to life. Johnson jarred himself awake and smacked the transceiver on his suits communications array.

"This is Bear 1-4, where the hell is every one?" Johnson asked.

"I say again, this is Zulu Actual, all callsigns, report!" the radio once again replied.

"THIS IS BEAR 1-4! I've lost my squad, I need help! I'm bleeding out he-"

"My God, they're all gone." Johnson was frustrated now. His only lifeline, ruined again. God was keeping Johnson around to remind him of his failure.

Johnson reached for his weapon, a Laser Rifle on the ground. As he grabbed it, it split in half. The AER-9 was not designed for this type of physical trama. Damn, another curveball. Johnson stood. He looked around to see his Pip-Boy flashing red. It was detecting large scale stress fractures over the majority of his bones. Despite this, he stood, back curled as his mind forced his body to move. With all his willpower, he told his right foot to move forward. It slowly lifted, then slid forward six inches and collapsed again. Progress. He forced his left foot to do the same. He lifted it again, but this time when it hit the ground, a column of pain shot up his leg and he seized over for a moment. Pain oozed out of his body, or was that blood? Johnson's head felt really light and he seemed to have little to no control over it. He shuffled forward, half a foot by half a foot. He found a 9mm Pistol on the ground. Although older than the normal side arms, it still could pack a punch. He took out the magazine and saw five rounds in it. He slammed the magazine back into the gun and put one shot into the chamber.

"Ho-ly shit, sir, I got something!" the radio buzzed in, "run a biometric scan!" There was a humming in Johnson's Power Armor.

"Bear 1-4, do you copy?" Johnson tried to reply, but his radio was still busted.

"Bear 1-4, respond if you are there!" Again, silence.

"Bear 1-4, if you can hear this, head three klicks east of your current position. The FOB there can give you shelter until we can get our shit together. Stay with me son! We'll get you out of this! Zulu Actual out." Johnson's Pip-Boy updated with a waypoint. It was a long walk, but it was Johnson's only option at this point. Would he rather die in the sand? That's hardly a fitting end for a warrior. Thoughts of his home and family entered his mind as he slowly trudged forward.

Johnson walked for several hours at an extremely slow pace. The Mongolian sun burned upon him, until suddenly, a large yellow cloud completely blocked out the sun, the Earth grew cold and dark. Tapping the side of his helmet, Johnson switched on his NVGs so he could amplify what little light got through. He did this just in time to see a Chinese soldier uncloak with his stealth suit and fired a round with his assault rifle into Johnson's shoulder. Johnson's body rocked with pain. Adrenaline and instinct took over as he shouldered his pistol and fired all five shots dead center mass into the enemy combatant. Well, they'd have been center mass in the best of situations. In Johnson's pain and drug-filled state, one hit the torso, the other the ankle, two flat out missed, and the final hit in the square of his forehead. The soldier fell down like a ragdoll. Then the Chinese man fell as well. Johnson's vision began fading and his blinking was getting heavy. All he could think of was home. The annoying flashing pip-boy would never cease. His Pip-Boy was solid red now, no message on it. The screen was cracked, and a knob was broken off. Johnson faded to darkness.

It was almost a scene out of a movie. Johnson felt his body floating, almost as though he was a tube and the floating he was doing was along the lazy river, back when he would actually take his family on vacation. He thought of his family, he saw Kristen, his wife of eleven years. They had met in high-school during Math of all things. Calculus...he fucking hated Calculus. Why the hell did he care what a circle could do for humanity? The number of radians in a circle was two damn pi after all. He then saw his children. His oldest was his son, Michael. Michael was ten and played soldier in the backyard all the time. He admired his dad, and wanted to be just like him when he got older. But...Johnson felt a great sadness. His son's image turned to ash and scattered amongst the wind. Johnson had failed his family here. His family was now radioactive dust in a crater somewhere. Such loving and amazing people, extinguished, like a candle never granted a long wick. Self hate built in him. Why? Why couldn't he have moved faster? For almighty Christ, why did he not suspect that the Chinese would have a firewall in place? Why did he allow himself to take his sweet time in breaking this firewall? His children died for the sins of a father. But...wait. There was, hope. He signed the deal for the "Enclave". His family COULD have made it to Raven Rock! That Colonel better have come through on his end of the bargain! A renewed sense of relief flooded into Johnson's mind. It was like water, washing over a dry flood plain as the ground just absorbed and cherished it. Yet, at the same time, it was bittersweet. He was one of the few people who had the benefit of having his children spared. How many honest, hardworking Americans died today? But, at least he has a single silver lining on the cloud, he was not one of them, nor was his family. This feeling was exhilarating, his spirits felt absolutely lifted.

"UNIT 37604-B HAS A CONFIRMATION ON THE PACKAGE. COMBATANTS DETECTED, EXTERMINATE." A voice? This one was odd, it was not fragmented, but whole and loud and authoritive. He heard a spinning sound. A loud constant buzzing then, what an odd dream! There were bees, yet no sight of them? Such bees would have driven Nicolas Cage mad! Suddenly, he woke up.

"CESSATION OF HOSTILITIES COMPLETE. STAFF SERGEANT JOHNSON, ACKNOWLEDGE."

Johnson groaned and he moaned, "Argh, yeah, for what it's worth."

"THIS UNIT HAS BEEN TASKED WITH YOUR SAFE KEEPING, ACCOMPANY THIS UNIT TO THE DESIGNATED ZONE." Johnson's eyes slowly peaked open. There was heavy blinking, but then they then remained open, and Johnson's vision, although blurry, returned. He saw a large dark figure, standing upon a tripod. A seat on its back was the only think he could make out on the strange contraption, however, there were two bright red eyes within what appeared to be a cage. John said to hell with it and sat on the chair, as he fell asleep, he felt himself moving again.

He awoke several hours later in a daze. There was a bright light shining on him. He squinted extremely hard as the intense light bore into his eyes, frying his retinas.

"Well, if it isn't John Wayne?" a muffled voice chuckled., "you my friend have the stamina of a horse, I say." John's eyes began focusing, pupils shrinking to filter the excess light. Suddenly, a masked man's face appeared directly over him. Johnson instinctively jumped and tried to move his arm to throw out a punch. "Woah woah now, hey Tex, it's alright, you're with the good guys now, how do you feel?" Johnson's mouth made a bunch of strange movements and his throat gurgled out a response.

"Like the morning after shore leave."

"Ha ha ha, well now, I believe you should know, you're at Camp Navarro now buddy! Looks like you took some serious damage in transit though,"

"Nav...the hell?"

"Nav-a-rro. Mainly, the underground facilities you see. You were a part of Task Force Trident, yes?" Task Force Trident...Davidson...Bradley...Rodriguez...Johnson ...a mission gone wrong. Johnson's face displayed heavy pain. He nodded, and his brow furrowed with pain.

"Ack, how long was I out?" Johnson asked, hesitant for an answer.

"Including today," the man asked. Johnson nodded. "Approximately 53 years, and seven months."

"Fifty three years and...sweet christ..." Johnson stated.

"It's not so bad, really, I mean, you were treated initially to make sure your life support was stable, then you were placed in cryostasis like the rest of the vaults and facilities. That way, the radiation would have dispersed enough to allow the outdoors to be habitable...sort of."

"Habitable, what do you mean?" Johnson puzzled. The man who Johnson now assumed to be a doctor turned his smile into a grimace.

"The...American way of life, as you knew it, is over. There was, well, an exchange of weaponry. China and the US finally snapped. We have no idea who fired first, but both sides absolutely unloaded on each other. Missiles, bombers, everything that could have a mass destructive quality to it was thrown at one another. As a result, all the other countries of the world did their own nuclear exchanges."

"Have you heard," Johnson grunted from the pain, "anything from Raven Rock?"

"No, all communication has gone dark since the exchange. The EMP from the weapons fried our communications equipment, while we are close to getting a restoration, we have no idea about the other bases.

"Got...to...get to Raven Rock..." Johnson grunted, he quickly shuffled to a seated up position.

"Woah woah woah John Wayne. You're in no condition to go anywhere, even IF we had transportation.

"I'm agh, ready!" Johnson barked.

"No, you're not. Now, I may not be the Almighty, but your muscles are stiff as a brick from all the time frozen, in addition to any time prior where you weren't moving. Your bones are weak, but they require a little bit more time to reinforce and augment. Your mind is sharp, but we need to run some more tests before we give you a psychological A-OK."

"Do whatever it takes, I need to get out of here," Johnson commanded, he just realized that his arms weren't actually bound, they were just stiff and unresponsive.

"Alright now, we're going to sedate you and finish treatment, it will take about two days for you to be able to respond to basic stimuli both mentally and physically." With that statement, Johnson once again returned to sleep.

"Doctor Henry here, all our tests are complete, our friend is showing green scores across the board. Johnson was injected with a stimulant which accelerated his heart rate to the point where his mind thought for sure he was about to die. He jarred awake and felt...Refreshed.

"Alright now buddy, I am going to give you a few minor commands and we're going to see if all horses are accounted for. I want you to life your right arm. Johnson obeyed, but noticed that his arm moved more fast than he was used to, he had to catch it with his other arm, which also moved with lightning speed. The doctor laughed and told him to take it easy. He then told him to raise his left arm, and Johnson obeyed. They repeated these two tests about eleven times until Johnson had it down pat. They then did this with his feet. Finally, the doctor had him walk around. Johnson stood up, and his body felt like a hulk. He stood, and his legs gave him power. Each step felt like he was going to rocket forward. Once again, the doctor did his kind-hearted laugh.

"Alright, pal, why don't you go check in with the base commander to make sure you've got your clearance to leave while I fill out your paperwork. Your vitals are strong, and you are as healthy as a mule, for now. Good luck!" Johnson nodded, and walked upstairs. At the top of the stairs, a heavy steel door lie in wait. Johnson used his new found strength and heaved open the door with ease. Upon exitting the building, he was blinded momentarily. The sun's gaze was intense, brilliant, and strong. He shielded his eyes for a moment as all he could see was nothing more than abstract white light, and a small amount of yellow dust. As his pupils contracted, he blinked heavily and saw the desolate wasteland that was America for the first time. The ground was crumbly, and a rusted yellow. In the distance, Johnson saw what was once a large city, but now was nothing more than a few shells of buildings, and some crumbled ruins. Johnson had never heard of Navarro before, so he had no idea where in the United States he could be. The base's layout was relatively small. There was a small hanger, but oddly, no runway. It must have been for some form of VTOL, if it were a plane, it would need some form of runway. There were a few small buildings. A barracks, a small field hospital, an armory, and what appeared to be the Commander's Quarters. This was the large building in the middle of the Camp. In front of this building, there was a parade field likely for assembly, in this field, a few men in some strange form of power armor were doing various PT exercises. The drill sergeant was looming over them, yelling.

"Oh, so you're the replacement, what is your name Private?"

"Private Pile."

"You are FORGETTING something maggot!"

"Private Pile, sir!"

"DO I LOOK LIKE A SIR? I WORK FOR A LIVING YOU MOR-ON! YOU WILL CALL ME SERGEANT, OR SERGEANT DORNAN. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!"

"Sure, Sarge whatever."

"If I like you, you can call me Sarge. But guess what? I DON'T LIKE YOU! Do you understand?!"

Johnson chuckled to himself and kept walking, he kept thinking to himself that he always loved military humor. Johnson entered the building known as Major Forge's quarters. The room of the lobby was quaint, similar to that of a Pre-war hospital's waiting area. There was a slight breeze which made the facility slightly more cold than the outside air, for which, Johnson was thankful. He walked up to the secretary at her desk. She was writing something down on a large book

"Name?" she asked.

"Staff Sergeant Johnson, Eric J. I was told to speak with the base commander from Doctor Henry."

"Ah, so you're that guy. Go ahead and see him, first door on your right," she replied without looking up. She dropped her pen to point, then resumed writing. Johnson walked down the hall and into the office of Major Forge. He stood at attention and saluted until the Major gave him the command at ease and told him to have a seat.

"So, what do you need?" The Major asked, uninterested.

"I need to get to Raven Rock, my orders are to link up with the Enclave forces there." Johnson replied.

"Raven Rock...Boy, you're on the wrong end of the country. Raven Rock is in D.C, you're in our little chunk of paradise known as former San Francisco. I know, I know, she's not easy on the eyes, but she's still got life in her if you know where to look for it," the Major stated with a smirk. He sat upright in his chair.

"Well sir, do we have any form of transportation for me to get there?" Johnson asked.

"Negative, at the moment, we're still fixing the electronics on the Vertibirds outside. The EMP was nasty to the poor girls,"

"Well sir, looks like I've got to hoof it then, can you help out at all?"

"Hey now, slow down. You're talking about a really long expedition here. The pioneers did such a trip in a year, and that was before all the abominations were out there. There is some seriously fucked up shit out there, you do not want to go alone."

"I have to, I'd be in violation of orders otherwise. Besides, I can handle myself."

"I insist you remain here."

"With all due respect sir, I'll be on my way." The Major let out a long sigh.

"Well if you're going to be that stubborn about it, head down to the armory first, I'll authorize you an expeditionary class outfit, that way the wasteland doesn't eat you up and spit you out." Forge sighed again and began scribbling on a piece of paper. He then tore it and handed it to Johnson. "Show this to the quartermaster and he'll get you all set up. Go on now, shoo." Major Forge waved him off, and began staring at his desk and writing on a different sheet of paper again. Johnson exited the building and entered the armory next door. He showed the piece of paper to the Quartermaster, and the quartermaster showed him to the armor on the wall, he grabbed a strange chestplate. The armor had lightbulbs on it which were linked by a visible electrical current when the armor was activated.

"What type of wizardry is this shit?"

"It's an experimental Tesla armor. The Major authorized you to use it. It offers greater protection than standard armor, and the charge within the tesla coils on it can serve to boost the strength of any energy weapons you might come into contact with." The Quartermaster mentally read off. "For your primary weapon, we'll be giving you a standard .32 hunting rifle, bolt action."

"Bolt action, what is this, the first World War? Where the hell are the automatics and lasers? We got enough firepower to make the Empire cringe!"

"Sorry, but following the war, we lost a large stockpile of weaponry like that. Plus, out in the wastes, you'll be much more likely to find .32 caliber rounds than you will microfusion cells. As a side arm, you're being given a standard issue 10mm Pistol. Again, this weapon has heavy stopping power and relatively common ammunition. Good luck out there." With his grumbling in place, Johnson put on the alien-looking armor. He stared at the bug eyes of the helmet, then turned it around and put it on. As it slid on, the magnetic seals clicked into place, and it was now firmly attached to the rest of him. Johnson rolled his head around for a second to make sure all was good, and it was. Johnson held out his arm to check his pip-boy to make sure all scans were golden. To his surprise, it was not there. Johnson then remembered that since this was much later than when he went out, it was likely that they had taken it off for surgery. It didn't make a difference however, as the suit's Heads Up Display kicked on and displayed the amount of ammo he had left, and did a scan on his rifle to reveal that it had perfect condition. The digital compass kicked on too, and began spinning. It slowly stopped and aligned with what Johnson assumed was North. It then adjusted to compensate for what direction the helmet was facing, and was good to go.

"Hey, good luck out there. It is hell on Earth,"

"I don't think you've encountered quite the same hell I have," Johnson replied. He then stepped outside of the Armory, and into the formerly hot air of the desert sky.

What is up beauties? This chapter was lengthy, but I didn't feel as though it could end until I had reached a good stopping point. I want to keep this chapters nice and long for ya so you have something to entertain yourselves with. For the two of ya'll who are now following, I appreciate the support and for those of you who read the last chapter, I love all of you. Please leave a review so I can be given constructive criticism on how well my story telling ability is. I would gladly hear all feedback, positive and negative. Have a wonderful day/evening. Toodles.