Genesis 4
Jason threw open the cracked wooden door and for a fraction of a second he had a vision of an endless blue abyss hanging over his head, before he cried out in surprise as light and warmth enveloped him. It blinded him, it's crushing weight forcing him to his knees. He threw his hands across his eyes, desperately trying to protect them from the endless fire.
The Vault had been outfitted with Simu-Sun lighting, supposedly designed to mimic the feel and brightness of sunlight. How wrong they were! How utterly and inconceivably wrong they were! How had they thought it would ever compare? Sunlight, real sunlight, wasn't just light. It was a physical force! It had weight! It had heat! He could actually feel the temperature difference between his exposed skin and those areas lucky enough to be covered up. The heat was sweltering. Burning!
Blind, Jason scrambled backwards into the cool shelter of the cave. He sat there, lying back against the curved wall, letting the shadows sooth his skin, and the purple veil clear from his eyes. He looked back at the shadowy cog-shaped door. 101 was emblazoned upon the front in bright yellow letters. Jason got to his feet, relishing the feel of real dirt crunching beneath his shoes. He walked back to the door and put his hand against it, feeling the comfort of the cool metal against his palm. His foot crunched on something round, and he flicked on his Pipboy light to reveal the barren skeleton lying next to the vault door control panel. For some reason, it did not drown him in horror and disgust the way the body in the Vault cafeteria had. This skeleton had not been human in two hundred years, and that chronological difference made it an artifact instead of a person. It wasn't the only one in the cave, either, Jason realized. There were several lying around, along with some signs. The thick black lettering was faded, but still visible: 'We're Dying, Assholes!', 'Let us in, Motherfuckers!', 'Help us!'. He glanced up at the security camera. No doubt Amata's dad was watching him through it. He reached down and tested the vault door controls, not sure what he was expecting. They had no effect whatsoever. Clearly a password was needed.
Going back in was not an option. Besides… Dad was out here…
Jason turned back towards the light and strode forward carefully. Keeping himself in the shadows, he pushed open the door, and watched the stream of light flow into the tunnel, given shape by the constant dust cloud which even now was making him thirsty. He carefully stuck his fingers in the light, playing with the feel of the heat and cool shadows on his skin, and getting used to the strange warm blanket which coated everything the sun touched. He grew bolder as he played, sticking his whole hand in. Then both hands. It would take getting used to, he knew. The entire thing confused him, however; why would James have wanted to venture out into this dry and dirty place when there was a sparkling clean Vault with light that didn't burn one's eyes out?
Feeling more confident, Jason stepped into the light, feeling the heat on his Vault suit. He felt very glad he had brought his baseball cap with him; having the sun shining down on the back of his neck would feel far too bizarre. Using his hand to shield his eyes from the distant blinding orb, he stepped outside, finally able to take a look around.
The sky! The sky was so big! How could anyone stand it? There was no end to it! No borders at all! Throughout his life, if Jason hadn't been able to see something, it was because something else blocked his view. The sight a horizon was completely new. The idea that something would be so far away that he could not see it… Mathematically and geometrically, it was a rule. It made sense, but it took a moment for his mind to adjust to the fact that the horizon was not simply a detailed painting some unknown character had dropped down before his eyes. It looked and felt like an optical illusion. He actually had to make an effort to stop himself from reaching out to grasp the distant spire of the Washington Monument.
A gust of wind blew a cloud of dust across his face. He felt the rough grains rasp across his soft skin. They went up his nose, coated his mouth and eyes, making him cough and tear up. He rubbed them, blinking furiously and spitting curses. He moved a little further back into the cave, trying to escape the dust devil. Once it had passed, he was able to take a second look, this time trying to ignore the boundless blue celestial sphere above his head.
He moved further down the path, halting at the top of a small, brown, shrub-encrusted cliff. The distant Washington Monument was only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. As he adjusted, Jason realized that the grey morass surrounding it was in fact the crumbling, ruined city of Washington, D.C.. He could make out the husks of distant buildings, all empty shells with that bright blue sky shining through their upper windows. Nearer to him, at the foot of the cliff was a ruined town, the burnt, skeletal remains of houses were still standing, each property delineated by white picket fences, stirring echoes of the bright, cheerful pictures he had seen in the vault textbooks. He knew immediately that this was not the same world his ancestors had sealed themselves away from. Nor did it feel like a husk of that old world. It felt like a new one. An alien one. One rendered virtually unrecognizable by the last act of the human race. It was a cratered, filthy world painted in browns and greys and greens. The trees were tall, magnificent, and dead. Leafless and lifeless.
Directly in front of Jason, colored in a faded yet cheerful periwinkle blue, a testament to god's macabre sense of humor, was a sign. It said: Scenic Overlook.
Jason descended to the bottom of the cliff and stood on the broken asphalt. The road led south over a hill beyond which was the monolithic concrete remains of a broken overpass.
An enormous crater had broken the gray stretch of road. It was filled with a disgusting green liquid which upon very close inspection turned out to be water. Not despite his burgeoning thirst, Jason suspected that it would take several days of dehydration before he would dare drink it.
As he stuck his fingers in the viscous liquid, Jason heard his Pipboy give off a strange crackling noise. It took him a moment to realize that it was the old device's built-in Geiger counter. He quickly pulled his hand out, and the crackle faded. Yet the indicator of the device's small Geiger Counter told him that he had become slightly irradiated. He suddenly felt… tarnished. Unclean. A desire to rid himself of the foul radiation overtook him. But there was nothing he could immediately do about it. He'd have to find supplies.
Jason started up the road, deciding that properly orienting himself should be his first priority. His Pipboy's compass provided vague directions, but he needed something more concrete if he were to find a source of food and water .Not to mention Rad-away. He ascended the southern slope, circling to the right, trying to find the path to higher ground. As he walked, he passing the rusted-out frames of ruined cars. He took care to stay on the cracked asphalt path for as long as it lasted, feeling dubious about straying too far from the remains of civilization, twisted and degraded as they were.
As he reached the broken overpass, he heard a sudden unfamiliar growling, and turned. Two wild animals were approaching him, barreling down the grassy knoll at incredible speeds. They were thin animals. Irradiated. Starved, with thin, ragged patches of fur painted onto blotchy, cracked brown skin. Streams of drool dripped form their open mouths, and they eyed him with crazed hunger their ears flattened against their skulls. There was no mistaking their intent.
Adrenaline pumping through his worn-out system, Jason scampered madly for the nearest rock, scrambling up the rough surface. The rabid dogs reached him as he reached the summit. He heard their jaws clamp shut on empty air, inches from his feet. The sound of their broken claws scrabbling for purchase, gouging white scratches on the dust-covered surface, rose above their impotent, demanding barks. Jason drew his knees up, huddling at the top of his precarious sanctuary. It had been a mistake to go south. He should have gone north, into the small town at the foot of the hill. Stay near civilization!
The dogs circled, trying to find a way up to him, barking in frustration. Jason found it hard to keep his eyes off of their yellow teeth and strong, fast, vice-like jaws. One of the animals gained a foothold, it's claws catching on a smell crevice. It launched itself at him, snapping blindly. Jason kicked out, nearly losing his balance. His heel caught the dog's shoulder, sending it tumbling back down to the base of the rock. He got to his feet and pulled out his baseball bat as it launched itself once again. He brought the heavy wooden bat down on the creature's head, hearing a repulsive crack.
The animal crumpled to the ground, unmoving. Its companion only renewed its own efforts to reach him. Perhaps it was just Jason's imagination, but the second hound seemed suddenly bent on vengeance. It began to take long, bounding leaps, each time making it further up the rock. Jason watched it for a moment trying to time the beast's movements, and then swung. His back caught the thing awkwardly across the bottom jaw. It yelped and crashed to the ground, vanishing south in a cloud of dust. Jason slid down the rock on his bum and took off in the opposite direction. Northward to the ruined town. To civilization, and to safety.
I've torn into a few different authors for this scene, and now that I've attempted to write it myself, I offer an apology to all of you. The moment when he takes his first step outside the vault is among the most important in the entire story! I'm also dubbing it impossible to get right. Certainly beyond my meager capabilities. The best one can hope for is to get a passing grade.
What would sunlight feel like to someone who had never been exposed to it before?
What would it feel like to first see the sky? And the horizon? I doubt any amount of descriptive capabilities can truly encompass that. But here's my best shot. I tried to bring back the memories of summer days when I was a kid. The heat was sweltering, and it honestly felt like the light had weight to it.