3.
Tom was now wrapped in silence at the bottom of a stone cavern. He took a few steps back and felt something crack under his foot. He looked down and immediately jumped away.
Two skeletons were lying on the cavern floor, one now missing its skull, clutching signs. One sign said 'Help us', the other saying 'Let us in motherfuckers!'. Tom looked from the signs to the door and noticed the camera above it, which was coated in dust.
Behind him was the only source of light, the outside world shining in through the wood paneled door and door frame, which had been fitted to the cave entrance. Wires lay in a grid upon the door and frame, adding strength to the structure. White light was shining through the planks of the entire entrance, lighting the cavern somewhat.
It was a different kind of light to the ones in the vault… stronger, alive. It wasn't a flickering dead thing, like the fluorescents.
Lying by the door was another skeleton.
Tom stepped cautiously forward, his feet crunching slightly on the stony ground and placed his hand on the handle of the door. He knew there was already no turning back, but he somehow felt that opening this door was the real deal maker. Once he stepped out into the wastes he would either have to adapt… or perish.
And hope that once he caught up with his father that everything would be okay.
He turned the handle with a little effort, as it was encrusted with dust and rust. He pushed the door and it creaked open, metal whining and wood groaning.
He stepped out and for a moment was blinded by a yellow light in the sky. He didn't even realise what it was until he remembered his basic schooling.
The sun…
It was so much more intense than he thought it could be. As he stumbled forward and away from the mountain side he saw a path running down the mountainside and an outcrop that would give him a view of the world he had just entered.
As dust was whipped away he walked towards the outcrop, gazing out at the huge world he felt he had discovered.
Its size was in fact the first thing he realised. No walls, no doors… just space.
The sky!
Tom looked up and his breath was taken away. The sky was a vast pale blue thing, dotted with clouds yellowed by the dirt.
He looked back down at the view before him.
Standing on the edge of the outlook was a small bent metal sign with the words 'Scenic Overlook' and beyond that was the ruin of what was once a small town. Houses which had been burnt to the ground, their frames alone still standing, roads with huge chunks missing, derelict vehicles, with no tires, left on the side of the road and a lone water tower rusting away amongst it all, its support beams groaning in the wind.
On the horizon he could see other buildings far off in the distance, including a single tall spire pointing up into the sky like a sword.
Suddenly Tom's Pip-Boy started vibrating. He looked down to see what the problem was. Several radio signals had been picked up. He checked the first and heard only crackling sounds mixed with the occasional noise that sounded like something howling.
The signals reminded Tom of the message his father had left him. He switched it on and his father's voice spoke from the Pip-Boy.
"Hold on Jonas, I need to record this first.
I... I don't really know how to tell you this. I hope you'll understand, but I know you might be angry. I thought about it for a long time, but in the end I decided it was best for you not to know. So many things could have gone wrong and there's really no telling how the overseer will react when he finds out. It's best if he can blame everything on me. Obviously you already know that I'm gone. It was something I needed to do. You're an adult now. You're ready to be on your own. Maybe someday things will change and we can see each other again. I can't tell you why I left or where I'm going. I don't want you to follow me. God knows life in the vault isn't perfect, but at least you'll be safe. Just knowing that will be enough to keep me going."
Suddenly Jonas's voice interrupted his father's, "Don't mean to rush you, Doc, but I'd feel better if we got this over with."
"Okay. Go ahead. Goodbye. I love you. Remember your mother's verse."
The recording clicked and ended.
His mother's verse.
For years his father had pointed to the framed verse on his bedside table and told him it was his mother's favourite verse. He could still hear his father reciting those words in his deep comforting voice:
"I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and end. I shall give unto him who is athirst the fountain of the waters of life freely."
Revelations 21:6.
Tom's mother had died during childbirth. He'd often asked his father questions about her when he was younger, curious about the mother he had never met.
And now following the father it seemed he never knew.
For a moment Tom stood on the outcrop and just gazed out the world he felt he had discovered… but in fact had been lying in wait.
Finally he started down the path and found himself on what had once been a tarmac road, though of course he had no idea what tarmac was. He saw a manufactured path with cracks and potholes filled with green water and a metal barrier along the side, twisted and deformed from its original state.
As he walked he passed several signs bent like arms and rusted out wrecks that had once been cars. The dirt around him was practically black and every tree rose from the ground like a twisted and emaciated hand, skinless, leafless. Then he was on the main street of the town he had seen from the outcrop.
Rising up on either side of him were the skeletal shapes of houses and buildings that had been long since abandoned.
Rusting mailboxes and scattered white picket fences surrounded the wrecks and lamp posts lay across the road like fallen soldiers.
Suddenly he heard a strange sound… something like a flute.
As Tom stared a round form, appearing to float through the air, turned onto the main road and started moving towards him. The sound appeared to be a flute being played to the rhythm of marching drums, and was issuing from the strange floating machine. As it passed by, seemingly unaware of Tom, he got a closer look at it.
It was round with a speaker attached to the front and several antennae issuing from its top and side and pointing behind it, as though they were combed back. It also emitted an annoying buzzing sound as it floated past and seemed to have a small laser attached to its bottom.
Tom tried to get its attention by waving at it as it passed but it made no move indicating that it saw him. After several futile attempts to get its attention Tom gave up and started on down the main road again.
A large red metal rocket supported by curved metal beams above two bowsers indicated that Tom was at the corner of the Red Rocket petrol station. Beyond it was a ridge and…
People!
There were several moving along the ridge, as tall as people. Without thinking Tom waved his arms and shouted, "Hey! Over here! Can you help me!"
The figures paused.
A bad feeling began to creep up Tom's spine as he realised that waving to strangers might not be the best idea out in the wasteland.
His fears were confirmed when the group started running towards him and a bullet whizzed past his ear.
Tom turned tail and ran, drawing his gun and flicking off the safety. A second bullet grazed his thigh and he cried out, stumbling. He leaped into the bones of a two story house and hid behind a piece of wall still standing. He edged his eyes around to see the attackers.
There were five and all of them were wearing very little clothing, except for spiked leather armour and, on one of them, a bucket being used as a helmet. Of the five two of them had guns, a rifle and a pistol. The other three were armed with a bat with nails in it, a chain and several knives.
Tom fired off two rounds and the party split, taking cover, except for one which had received a bullet to the groin and had fallen to the ground. Tom would have been impressed with himself if he hadn't been aiming above their heads in an attempt to scare them off.
Still one down was still one down.
Tom withdrew back behind the wall, his mind racing and his heart pumping as he tried to think of a plan and ignore the burning he could feel in his thigh.
He listened for a moment and then poked his head out again.
He had shot down (intentionally or not) the one with the pistol. He was still moaning on the ground and clutching his bleeding groin.
Tom decided to try and talk to them, "Back off and no one else has to get hurt!"
They responded with a round of course and disturbing laughter.
The one with the knives broke his cover and started charging.
Tom pulled the trigger and his stomach lurched as it made an empty click.
He dropped the gun, no time to reload it and pulled the BB gun, still loaded from the last time he had used it (despite his father's warnings to never leave it loaded) and fired. The gun made a coughing sound as the pellet was propelled by air and hit the attacker right between the eyes.
He stopped dead in his tracks, sure he'd been shot.
The pellet fell to the ground with a titter and the man touched his sun blackened forehead. Not a scratch.
The man grinned wickedly, "He's got no bullets!" and ran forward, snatching the gun from Tom's hands and smacking him in the face with the butt.
Tom fell back and smacked his head on the rocky ground. He could feel something warm flowing from his nose. Pinpricks of light were floating in front of him.
The huge man dropped the BB gun and sat on top of Tom, drawing a long wicked looking knife, crusted with rust but as sharp as a razor blade.
He raised the knife, his rotten teeth bared, above his head.
Tom pulled himself together just in time. The knife came down and he caught the man's wrist. As he did he threw all his force into a roll, toppling them and leaving him on top with the blade in his hand. Without thinking he thrust the blade through the man's throat.
It did not go in easy, but with a slow grinding squelch. Blood welled up around the wound and filled the man's mouth as he groaned in agony and his eyes widened. He twitched for a moment, struggling half-heartedly, but soon died.
Killed…
I killed him…
I've never…
In a daze Tom got to his feet, his hands covered in blood, another man's blood, and his face speckled with it, mixing with his sweat. He couldn't hear anything or feel anything… everything was just fuzzy… there was a ringing in his ears…
He turned and came face to face with a feral looking woman wearing a dog's face on her head. Her teeth were bared as she swung the bat into his head, luckily missing him with the nails. She was screaming something with a guttural voice, but he couldn't understand it… he couldn't understand anything.
He was on the ground and being turned over by the woman. She was straddling him… she felt wrong on his body, like an infection…
She was wrenching the knife from the fallen man's throat, running her tongue along it, tasting the blood and grinning, her teeth stained red. She leaned forward and forced her bloodied tongue down his throat and his nose was filled with the most horrid smell he had ever encountered.
He gagged, spitting out blood and struggling underneath her, but she was strong and he got nowhere. His hearing seemed to rush back to him and he heard what she was saying between laughing like a hyena.
"Aww, doesn't the pretty boy like me. Too bad, so sad!"
She leaned in close grinning like some kind of monster, and ran one hand over his body.
"Don't you worry now baby," she cooed falsely, "You're gonna die slow."
Suddenly she slipped the blade between his lower ribs and he screamed with agony as the rusty blade pierced through muscle and skin and grazed his bone.
He bucked it and kicked and struggled as she slowly slipped the blade out of him again, one hand on his chest, "I love it when they buck!" she crowed.
She quickly drew the knife across his cheek leaving a long but shallow cut.
She leered down at him, "You're going to be so much fun."
And then the right side of her face partially exploded and his entire head was spattered with blood, including his mouth.
The knife fell and so did the woman. Tom sat up, horrified to see what was happening.
A tall bulky black man with a thick grey beard, moving faster than his bulk would have suggested possible, was standing outside, a revolver smoking in his hand. The other two raiders, whom he had shot between to save Tom, both screeched like Banshee's and leapt at him. He quickly fired two more rounds from the revolver, blowing both of their feral female heads off and leaving a mess for the birds.
Tom could feel the dizziness taking over and the darkness swarming in. It told hold of him completely as the man, his saviour, stepped forward and spoke soft words… words he could not hear as he fell into the abyss of unconsciousness.