Chapter 14: Vault 4

"Here we go," Dameon pried open another door as he and Chloe clung together on the lowest ladder rung. He tightened his grip on the cold steel and gave the door below a final kick, knocking it open with a loud thud.

"Oh shi-"

There was nothing below the door but a long fall. Dameon's grip failed as Chloe lost her balance from vertigo and wrapped her arms around his thick waist. They both tumbled down from the ladder through the open doorway on the ceiling, crashing into a heap onto the floor two stories below.

Dameon landed first, facedown on shiny white and green tile. His body shattered the floor below him like it had been hit by a meteor. It felt like his bones had broken into splinters from the force of the impact.

Chloe landed half on top of Dameon; his hard body broke most of her fall.

Dameon painfully turned his head to the side and was blinded by bright lights that were all around him. His ears were ringing loudly, drowning out all the ambient noise.

Chloe slowly rolled off of Dameon's back as he painfully tried to straighten out his twisted body and climb to his feet. As the shock of the fall wore off, Dameon realized the ringing in his ears was actually soft, fleeting music. He rubbed his eyes as Chloe sat up from the floor and tried to shake off the fall.

They had crash landed in the middle of a vast hall. Each side of the hallway was lined with shops that towered two stories high on two separate tiers. The shops had bright neon signs and vibrant displays that flashed and buzzed with art-deco stylings. The stores were crammed full of prewar clothing, shoes, candy, fragrances, and toys. The air in the hall was rank with the smell of popcorn and sweet perfume.

The hallway was so clean it sparkled. It had been completely untouched by the omnipresent dust and sand from the outside. The floor's white and green tiles stretched up to the ceiling in a large mosaic along ornate Corinthian columns, dotted with flowers and cherubs that had been carved deeply into the stone. Large palm trees and leafy shrubs dotted both sides of the hallway in gigantic bronze urns.

Dameon shook his head to try and get rid of the cobwebs. He did a double take, scanning the hallway from side to side. He saw a fully functional animatronic 'Giddyup Buttercup' pony cavort around a store front window while a pair of model Corvega race cars flew across a curvy electric track at lighting speed. A tethered toy jet fighter screeched by in a never ending circle pattern on top of a store ceiling.

A crowd had begun to gather around Chloe and Dameon. They were men and women dressed in blue and yellow prewar vault suits that Dameon had only ever seen draped around ancient skeletons. Their clothing and shoes looked pressed and buffed to a shine. The men and women looked young and pale as if they had never seen daylight; the women's large flowery hats shielded their eyes from Dameon's dumbstruck gaze. Little children hid behind their parent's quivering legs.

Many of the women were pushing baby strollers; their babies seemed to sit up in their carriages and ogle at the strangers. The faces of the crowd twisted into various shades of shock and nervous bewilderment. None of the men or women moved for a moment, making Dameon wonder if he was in the middle of a dream or if had been sent back to some moment frozen in time.

A little girl in a tight vault skirt let out a shrill scream, breaking the stalemate, as she cowered at the sight of the two alien invaders.

As Chloe rubbed her sore arm and looked to Dameon for some sign of what was going through his mind, a group of security officers shot out of two well hidden doors along the far side of the hall.

The security force began to run in military formation towards Chloe and Dameon. Their black combat boots clicked on the hard floor with each step. They were wearing blue and grey uniforms with the number 4 emblazoned on their helmets and backs. The officers carried pistols, night sticks, and cattle prods that crackled with electricity. Their helmets had plastic visors that ran down the front of their faces and their chests were covered in thick body armor that looked like riot control gear.

Quickly, the security team formed a firing position between Dameon, Chloe, and the panicked crowd.

The men, women, and children retreated into the nearby stores, peeking up from behind display cases at the tense scene.

"Freeze! Hands up! Down on the floor! Right now!" one of the security officers screamed. He knelt down and aimed a laser pistol at Dameon.

A red laser dot came to a rest on the middle of Dameon's forehead.

While Dameon would normally have instinctively dove for cover, he was in too much of a trance from the alien scenery to react. He stood dumfounded while the security team inched forward.

"Down on the ground, now!" the officer shrilly repeated.

Babies began to wail from their strollers.

Suddenly a booming voice echoed over the vault PA system, "Everyone, please remain calm. These guests have been expected. They are none of your concern."

The crowd of men and women immediately took the deep voice at its word. They casually began to disperse back into the hall, now seemingly unconcerned with the strange, mutated wanderers. The hall filled up with the murmur of dozens of conversations as the men and women went back to shopping, eating, and fussing with their anxious newborns.

"Will the security team please escort our visitors to my office," the PA system drowned out the hum of the crowd before clicking off.

The security officers only half relaxed. They lowered their weapons and waived Chloe and Dameon forward and down the hall. The officers never got too close to the strangers, instead keeping a safe distance from them, while glancing up to the ceiling to make sure no other alien wanderers crashed down from above.

Chloe tapped Dameon on his rocky shoulder, asking him with her eyes what they should do next. Dameon was speechless. His glance shot up and down the hall. Parents and children were strolling in and out of stores carrying new looking toys and clothes while shoving hotdogs into their faces like the two of them had never intruded on their world.

It looked like a page out of a prewar shopping magazine or the capitalist propaganda of a SuperDuper Mart advertisement.

"This way. The governor wants to speak with you," a security officer pointed Dameon and Chloe towards a double set of golden elevators at the end of the hall. His armor had a name tag patch over his heart. It read 'Dyson' in bold black letters.

Dameon gave a slow nod to the guard, trying to come out of his trance. He and Chloe slowly began to walk down the hall towards the elevator.

As Dameon took a last look at his surroundings, he noticed a different set of security guards had positioned themselves on the second level of the hall. They had rifles that Dameon recognized as FAL FLNs with long scoped barrels. These guards were wearing sky blue armor that looked like power armor but was thinner and more segmented like a medieval knight's plate armor. Their faces looked plastic and emotionless as they stared down at the strangers from the second tier.

Dyson passed by Dameon and pressed the elevator button. The golden doors opened up with a loud chime.

Dameon and Chloe looked to one another and then hesitantly stepped inside the elevator with Dyson in toe. Three more security guards piled into the elevator and the doors slid shut behind them to soft jazz music.

The elevator buttons listed floors 1-15. Dyson pressed number 3 and the button lit up crimson red.

The elevator groaned to life and shot upwards.

Chapter 15: Lukasz Drybala

"Right up here," Dyson pulled open a large door.

Behind the door was another set of thick double oak doors. Two guards in strange sky blue armor stood between the two sets of doors and put their hands up in front of them in a motion for Dameon and Chloe to stop. The guards looked nearly identical to one another, as if they were twins.

As they paused in the threshold, one of the guards patted Dameon down for weapons. His hands shot up and down Dameon's body at an inhumanly fast pace until they were just a blur. The guard's fingers deftly plucked the pistol and knife from Dameon's robe before Dameon realized what had happened.

As Dameon swung around in confusion, the guard tucked Dameon's pistol into his own waistband and then patted down Chloe at the same blinding speed. He snatched a .45 out of her sneak suit and tossed it to the other guard.

Satisfied they were unarmed; the other guard then pulled open the last set of doors.

On the other side of the doors was a sprawling office, the walls of which were lined with tall bookcases crammed full of hundreds of meticulously arranged tomes. In the center of the office was oval, mahogany desk. A middle aged man was seated behind the desk fussing with a pile of papers. A computer monitor seemed to hang just over the desk's back edge and a phone sat next to it with dozens of blinking 'on hold' lights. Behind the desk were four large windows that looked out on an expanse of nothingness illuminated by hundreds of tiny twinkling lights. On either side of the man were large American flags in gilded stands.

The room had a thick, plush green carpet that Dameon and Chloe seemed to sink down into as they entered. A strange, yet familair seal was embossed at its center.

Dyson shot in front of Dameon and Chloe and walked up to the man behind the desk. Before he could say a word the man looked up and squinted at him with a slightly irritated expression.

"Thank you, chief Dyson," the man shooed Dyson away with his words.

As Dyson exited the room he shot a brief glare to Dameon and Chloe.

Dameon and Chloe stood in place unsure of what to do. There were two empty chairs in front of the desk. While the middle aged man busied himself with the stack of papers, they took a seat.

"Nixus, Crixus," the man casually glanced up at the two guards, "thank you as well."

The guards walked out of the room simultaneously. They closed the double doors behind themselves with a loud click.

Dameon and Chloe waited for the man to begin conversation. Instead, he was absorbed by the papers in front of him, scribbling down notes in dark blue ink and furiously stamping forms or banging on computer keys.

Then man looked between fifty and sixty. His face was more grizzled then the other people Dameon and Chloe had seen in the vault, and he appeared considerably older. His eyes were wide and such a dark brown they melded in with his pupils. His short grey hair curled around his ears like a mop on his head.

After two minutes the man stopped what he was doing and finally looked up.

"Your names?"

Chloe was taken aback, "Chloe,"

"Dameon Rayes."

The man leaned forward and rested his chin on his left fist, "Dameon Rayes. . ." he closed his eyes and seemed to mull over the name, "and Chloe. . .?"

"McGinty."

The man quickly jotted down their names on a sheet of yellow paper.

"My name is Lukasz Drybala, duly elected governor of Vault 4. What brings you to my vault?" Drybala's tone and facial expression were completely deadpan.

Dameon was surprised by Drybala's directness, he expected more official banter, "we. . .uh, we are looking for her sister. We heard she was taken to Quantico-"

"You heard she was taken to this vault?" Drybala didn't let him finish.

"No. . .we heard that she was taken to the base at Quantico. We stumbled across this vault while searching the base."

"Is she here?" Chloe interjected.

"Doubtful," Drybala scribbled down something, "we don't let in outsiders. . . but since you have come this far, what is her name?"

"Emily McGinty. She's sixteen and little shorter than I am. She's blonde-"

"Is she mutated, as you are?" Drybala stared at Chloe with piercing eyes.

Chloe cringed at the word mutated. It made her feel like she was a monster; she immediately became self conscious of the leaves all over her body, "No. She's normal."

Drybala pressed a button on his phone, "Please search our personnel files for an Emily McGinty."

There was no response on the other end.

Dameon glanced around the room. He looked at the seal on the floor, and then at a picture of an old man in a white lab coat that hung on the left wall. The picture seemed to have a tiny shrine under it with a golden eagle statuette and two lit candles.

Drybala went silent again and entered something in his computer. His overly unconcerned, bureaucratic demeanor was making Dameon edgy; Dameon wanted to say something to change the mood, "So you're the. . . vault overseer?"

"God no. What a horrible term," Drybala didn't look up. He finished fiddling with a form and then stood up from his seat and walked over to the back windows, "I am the governor of this vault. You see, this is a democratic vault. One of the last bastions of democracy. It has been so since 2078 when my great, great, great grandfather Edward Whormund," Drybala pointed to the picture of a stuffy looking scientist hanging on the wall, "seized control of this vault during a coup in the name of democracy and the Republic."

Drybala paused and glanced out the windows behind him into the darkness, "you. . .you are probably only familiar with those tiny test tube, experimentation vaults. This vault was from the first generation, numbers 0 through 10. While the later vaults held mere hundreds, this vault holds thousands," Drybala waived Chloe and Dameon over to the windows behind him.

They cautiously walked up next to him and peered through the glass. They realized that the tiny lights they were eye level with were actually fake stars that twinkled over a large open area of trees, grass, and a sprawling pond that lay five stories below under a large dome.

"Wow," Chloe put her hand to the glass, "it's beautiful."

"The solarium. It was my idea to construct the solarium to keep the vault on a diurnal cycle; it makes it easier for the residents to sleep. The UV lights also help keep down Vault Depressive Syndrome."

Dameon scanned the solarium below. He could see a young couple splayed out on the grass, looking up at the fake stars from a long, checkered beach towel. "Do you know that there is an entire base of Talon Company mercenaries right above this vault?"

"Of course," Drybala directed Dameon and Chloe back to their seats, "unlike the other residents of Vault 4, I have been above ground. I know the outside world well. The Talon Company and I have reached an understanding. They keep away probing outsiders, and I keep them supplied with water from our purifier, produce from the greenhouse, and occasionally fresh meat from the menagerie. You entered through one of the hidden service tunnels under the old C.O's quarters; the above ground structure was lost to the bombs. I've long since sealed off the main entrance, but it would be suicide for the Talon Company to try and storm this vault. Between its byzantine layout, the vault security teams, and my Praetorian it would be a deathtrap. We've had no security incidents in the past 45 years."

"What happened back then?"

A thin smile crept across Drybala's face, "actually. . .you two are the largest security concern I've ever had. Tell me, what led to your mutations? Do you know if they're contagious?"

Chloe went to say something but was hushed by a scowl from Dameon.

"An old science experiment," Dameon licked his dry lips.

Drybala sat in silence for a moment waiting for Dameon to continue, "well go on. This vault is has extensive prewar files. I've actually read most of them. I have a deep love for history and the past."

Dameon stayed mum.

Drybala leaned forward on his desk, "we also have a medical clinic and an extremely talented surgical team. If you tell me what caused this they may be able to be of some assistance."

"It was called H-271," Chloe said eagerly.

Drybala nodded, "I will send you to the clinic immediately for them to check you out. Perhaps they can offer a diagnosis," he pressed a button on his phone, "Nixus!"

One of the guards in sky blue opened the double doors and looked to Drybala

"Accompany our guests to the clinic. I will inform the staff of their condition," Drybala gave a brief smile to Chloe and then returned to his papers.

As Chloe walked towards the door, Dameon froze. He wanted to ask Drybala something but couldn't think of what so he stood dumbly in place.

Drybala took notice of his hesitation, "Mr. Rayes, why don't you come back here tomorrow at nine o'clock. We can discuss your prognosis and any other questions you may have then. In the meantime, I will have my staff search for the missing girl, Emily. I will also contact Eagle Claw and have them search for her as well. For now, just try to relax. . .you'll worry the residents. I'd prefer things remain serene," Drybala returned to his work.

Dameon only lingered a moment longer. The guard at the door looked at him with a completely empty expression as he walked out.

As Dameon and Chloe exited, Dyson, who had been waiting outside of the double doors, shuffled past them and over to Drybala.

"We should have quarantined them immediately. We could all be infected right now-" Dyson began

Drybala waived him off, "its far, far too late by now."

(***********************************************************************)

A doting nurse at the medical clinic entrance rushed Chloe down the long white clinic halls, away from Dameon. Chloe was eager to finally see a doctor, it was getting more and more difficult for her to move and her body was half covered in itchy, suffocating foliage. She was so elated she didn't even remember to say goodbye to Dameon.

Dameon was uncomfortable seeing her go, and half embarrassed she didn't acknowledge him before leaving. The medical staff tried to ease him down the white sanitary halls, but he resisted for a while, preferring to sit down in a chair and ponder his fate. He was always nervous of doctors; he didn't trust anyone enough to allow himself to be so vulnerable around them.

Well almost anyone. . .

Dameon pondered the thought while visions of being drugged by the medical team and waking up strapped to a gurney while they preformed sadistic experiments on him raced though his mind.

With much cajoling, the boyish looking head surgeon was finally able to get Dameon to lay down on one of the clinic beds, promising him he wouldn't be sedated but merely anesthetized, while they probed him to determine his condition.

Barely convinced of his safety, Dameon lay down on a soft vault clinic bed as the doctors paced about him, readying their instruments. A tall doctor in a surgical coat put a small breathing mask over Dameon's mouth and began to pump nitrous oxide into his lungs.

Dameon's heart raced once the mask was strapped on. He wanted to rip it off at that moment, charge down the hall, grab Chloe, and escape.

Instead, he subdued his instincts and slowly inhaled a lungful of the rubbery smelling gas. It dulled the nagging pain from his back and limbs and he began to relax. Dameon took another breath and the pain become even weaker. Thoughts of flight and escape slowly faded away.

As Dameon relaxed more and more deeply, one of the nurses in the room fumbled with a row of stainless steel implements laid out on a small surgical table by Dameon's side. To mask the grating sounds of clanking metal and chattering doctors, the nurse leaned over and flicked on a nearby radio.

A deep feminine voice crackled over the radio and intruded on Dameon's thoughts.

"Mmmm, hey baby, DJ Cosmic Kate here,

Going to sing you a little lullaby,

Cause fearless leader says,

Its time to close your eyes,

And get some sleep.

So stop fussing in your cribs,

And cuddle up to this smooth song,

As you slowly drift away,

To old Louis Armstrong. . .hahaha"

I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself what a wonderful world. . .
I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself what a wonderful world . ..*

Dameon inadvertently drifted off to sleep from exhaustion on the comfortable cot.

*"Wonderful World" written by Bob Thiele and George David Weiss. Preformed by Louis Armstrong, 1968 ABC Records.