Fallout: Mexico

by UraniumV

Set 32 years after the bombs fell, citizens of what was once called mexico were left to fend for themselves in the wake of a nuclear holocaust, this is a story of multiple characters, friendships, secrets, and their encounters and how they all set the fate of the southern wasteland in their own image.

3. Chapter 2

"2,500 caps and I'll throw in a rocket launcher to sweeten the deal" Carlos said as he wanted this negotiation to go quickly and smoothly because the last thing he wanted was to be in a firefight.

"Deal",the man who said this was a representative sent by a small local settlement who were interested in expanding their territory and needed the firepower to do so. The few shipments of wood crates were filled with combat rifles, 10mm pistols, and fragmentation grenades and of course enough ammo for a small army.

The two men quickly shaked hands and while one handed over the caps the other handed over a rocket launcher. Four other men dressed in army fatigues and clad in olive drab combat armor started loading the crates in the back of a working truck attached with a trailer. A working vehicle is a rare sight in the wasteland now that coolant and gasoline are no longer being made and existing stock was lost to the bombs.

Carlos Venturas worked for the remnants of the American prewar army. The remnants originated from Fort Hood in texas. When the bombs fell, communication was shattered, leadership fell, and with no clear orders or purpose the remaining soldiers continued to operate as rescue workers and police in postwar texas. Keeping order and safety their top priority. Carlos' grandfather was a squad leader who was enlisted in the national guard stationed at Fort Hood to help quell riots in nearby cities as the war reached a turning point. Just as his father and grandfather before him, Carlos enlisted to try and help Texas return to a prewar paradise instead of its continued downfall into a postwar irradiated hellscape.

After the war, people started to call the remnants 'The Battalion' due to the sheer size and numbers of their army. They had working jeeps, vertibirds, and a handful of APCs leftover from the stationed armored divisions of Fort Hood. In the wasteland they were a force to be reckoned with. Carlos was tasked with being a representative for any arms deals the Battalion dealt, using leftover weapons claimed from old pre war armories the profits of which were used to feed and house any survivors who pledged to prewar america and to them, willing to serve in the battalion in exchange for food, water, and a place to sleep.

The battalion had regulations when it came to handling their large extensive armory. Only combat rifles, 10mm pistols, fragmentation grenades, and rocket launchers were to be sold. They kept any other weapons for themselves to arm and maintain their status as an apex predator in the south, and to warn raider gangs, mercenaries and any other large group of individuals to back off and keep away from their territory. Most of their firepower was to mostly make sure that if a war broke out between the battalion and the cruel savage cartels, that they would be the likely victors. Regularly patrolling their borders and acting as their own police force to enforce their own set of laws kept as a reminder of their numbers and strength.

Carlos then sat back as his fellow squadmates went to work loading up crates in the back of a truck trailer. The man was telling them how to correctly load up the trailer so the crates didn't slide around while he was driving and spilling over the deadly cargo. Carlos sat wondering to himself about how his life could've been if the bombs were never launched and how his life is instead. He wanted to help people but instead he selling weapons to settlers to ward of any raiders. I should be deployed to a local settlement protecting them, not here dealing weapons, he thought to himself. He then remembers his old childhood friend Juan. At one point in his childhood his father was deployed to a large settlement which was a ranch before the war. His father brought him along with him in an effort to convince his son to join the battalion when he was of age. He mostly hung around with other kids his age, running around causing trouble and playing games. He remembers one kid he befriended who was the son of the settlement's leader. We were good friends, he thought to himself, relishing the small adventures they had growing up. After a year his father was ordered back to texas as the settlement had grown exponentially while they were there. Helping the settlers with any trouble they had, warding off raiders, and setting them up a water system. I exchange for the help the settlement promised to send any spare crops and livestock for the battalion to sell and eat.

After his squad mates finish loading up the truck, thy all pack up their gear getting ready to report back to their superiors. I wonder where he is now, he wonders, maybe he's the leader now, he thinks hopeful that his friend is better off now and hopes that he can see him again someday. Next time i get time off i'll make my way south over the border and see him, and with that he picks up his stuff and makes his way towards Fort Hood.