Chapter 3

Megaton Tales

"Rivet City?"

Sandra leaned back in her chair, upturning her third Nuka and downing it in a few gulps.

"Yeah, that's where my aunt lives. That's the only place I can think of," Bryan replied. "That's the only place I have family."

Charon was upstairs inside of Sandra's Megaton home, and she was faintly able to hear him tinkering with something on her work bench. She was sitting at her kitchen table and ingesting her daily doses of caffeine, and Bryan was sitting across from her with a half-full box of potato crisps.

"Well, screw that. You can stay here. This is your home now," Sandra replied. "Unless you want me to take you to your aunt."

"I really miss her," Bryan sighed, looking down and seeming conflicted. "But..."

"Take your time, kiddo. You don't have to decide right now," Sandra assured. "So, hey… I have a few extra caps from all that loot in the super-duper mart. You wanna go to the saloon?"

"The place where that ghoul is?" Bryan asked, attempting to mask his uneasiness.

"His name is Gob. He's one of my best friends... and trust me, he's a total sweetheart." Sandra told the kid. "He can't help the way he looks."

"Yeah..." Bryan said halfheartedly.

Then, he leaned closer to Sandra and spoke in a hushed tone.

"Charon scares me."

Sandra nearly choked on her Nuka. Quickly stifling her laughter, she gathered herself and spoke.

"He's a grumpy shit, isn't he?" she said. "No... he acts like that because he's had a rough life. But he's been looking after me since the day we met. I couldn't survive out there without him. He acts mean, but he's a really good person underneath."

"Really?" Bryan uttered. "He seems like..."

"I know."

Sandra understood right away; Charon seemed like a rather distant individual, and he came off that way to everyone. But nowadays, Sandra liked to think she knew him on some close level, even if Charon himself hadn't yet realized it.

"Hey... wanna hear something cool?" she asked Bryan.

"What?"

"About Charon." Sandra smirked, then lowered her voice even more. "He shot his old employer because the guy was an evil bastard. He ran drugs, exploited people, and he even tried to hire me to kill his business competition. Charon hated him."

"He killed him?" Bryan asked fearfully.

Sandra shook her head. "You're missing the point—Charon killed him because he was hurting people constantly. Charon was the good guy."

Bryan looked down in thought. "He doesn't really talk to me..."

"He'll get used to you," Sandra assured. "He's not really a people person, but he'll get over it."

There was a moment of silence.

"By the way..." Sandra said, leaning on the table. "You want me to buy you a gun?"

Bryan simply stared at her. "What?"

"You didn't fight at all when we were in the super-duper mart. I understand why you ran… we were overrun with raiders… but you need to learn to protect yourself," Sandra went on. "I'll get you something strong. Maybe a 357... something I can teach you to use."

"But I..." Bryan stuttered doubtfully. "I don't really know how to..."

"I'll teach you," Sandra promised. "I'm still learning, too. You grew up out here... and I grew up in a vault. If I can do it, you can. Hands down."

Bryan leaned on his palm and sighed. He was wearing a small, fitted leather jacket that Sandra had found in the super-duper mart. His light brown hair was a little less messy than it had been two days ago when they'd met, and his hazel eyes were calmer than before as well.

"If you came out of a vault, then how did you get this house?" Bryan asked.

Sandra thought back.

She hadn't been wandering the Capital Wasteland for too long, but it felt like an eternity had passed her by since her absconding of Vault 101.

The day of her escape was like a distant dream anymore—but after a moment of thought, she was able to remember the first time she entered the gates of Megaton, and she began telling Bryan the tale from the beginning.

The day Sandra escaped Vault 101, she felt more mortified than ever before, shell-shocked and rattled to the bone, wandering into Megaton with nothing but an oversized vault suit and a borrowed 10-millimeter pistol, her pale face tearstained, her crimson hair askew, and her body trembling from head to toe.

When the sheriff and mayor, Lucas Simms, had first set his gaze on her, he gave her a once-over only to realize that something was definitely wrong with her. The vault suit was the first thing he noticed, and her state of shock was the second.

"Ain't seen one of those vault suits in waaaay too long," Lucas said in an attempt to sound casual. He examined the look on the girl's face, then frowned. "I don't know what you've been through, and I'm not gonna ask. Just... make yourself at home. You're safe here. And as long as you don't start nothin' with my people, then we won't start nothin' with you. All right?"

"Message received," Sandra said vacantly, giving the man a loose salute.

He nodded at her, then turned and strolled into town.

Sandra glumly waltzed through Megaton, avoiding eye contact with any of the towners and glimpsing around to find a place to rest. On top of one of the gigantic and dangerous-looking metal structures, she saw what appeared to be a saloon hovering above the megaton bomb in the heart of the town.

The inside of the saloon was strangely refreshing, despite the subtle rotting smell and the cigarette smoke inhabiting the air. Finding civilization beyond the metal walls was reassuring if nothing else.

Behind the bar, a man who looked very much like a living corpse was hammering on the top of a radio, while an attractive ginger-haired woman in a low cut shirt stood with her arms crossed and watched. A few other people were sitting at the bar or at one of the few tables and enjoying their drinks, and the ghoulish man growled when the radio refused to stop emitting static.

"Errrg... come on, ya' piece of junk. Why... won't... you... work?" the ghoul muttered, smacking the radio again.

"I told you, Gob. The radio works. The Enclave station comes in fine. It's Galaxy News Radio. Their signal's been shit lately," the ginger woman told him, but he paid her no mind, continuing his battle with the radio.

When the radio continued playing a static signal, the ghoul named Gob sighed and gave up on it. He looked up and noticed Sandra sitting tiredly at the bar, her forehead placed in her palms and her expression entirely void of feeling.

"Hey smoothskin, you need something? A drink? Anything?" Gob asked her.

Sandra peered up at him.

Gob noticed that the girl's eyes were watery.

"Gimme a sec to think, please. Thank you," Sandra told him in a soft, shaky voice, then laid her head in her folded arms.

Gob squinted at her. "Huh. Now that... that's a change."

"What's a change?" Sandra moaned, wishing dearly that she could simply rest her head on the bar and ignore her surroundings.

"Most smoothskins in this town give me shit 'cause I look like a corpse. But you, uh... you're not gonna hit me or anything? Or berate me, or... or anything?"

Sandra rolled her head atop her arms and gave Gob a peculiar sideways stare. "No. Hadn't planned on it."

"Well... good to know there are some worthwhile people here, then," Gob said, his face crinkling into a kind little smile. "Listen... Moriarty'd have my head if he caught me selling at a discount, but... for you, I'll risk it. What can I getcha?"

Sandra felt a soft, warm sensation spread throughout her.

After experiencing the worst day of her life, she was sure that her life was over, that she wouldn't want to continue after the disappearance of her father, after her vault comrades shooting at her... but now, it was strange. Now, everything suddenly seemed okay.

The two of them conversed with one another for a bit, and after a little while, Sandra found herself feeling loads better. Everything was still weighing on her, but now at least, she had someone on the outside that she could call a friend.

A middle-aged Irishman appeared behind Gob and whacked the ghoul on the back of the head.

"Oy, I ain't payin' ya' to get chatty with the consumers ya' sack o' bones. Get back to work," Moriarty ordered, and Gob looked down and shuffled off without another word.

Moriarty turned and stared at Sandra over the bar. He gave her an empty, business-like smile. "An' what can I get for ya' this fine morning, lassy?"

Sandra shot him a scowl. "Nothing. I'll be going."

She glimpsed at Gob from afar, then stood from her stool and headed for the door. Gob had already tipped her off about the whereabouts of her missing father. She didn't need anything from Moriarty now.

Just when she was about to push the door open, Sandra caught a small movement out of the corner of her eye.

A suited stranger was sitting in the corner of the place. His face was concealed beneath a stylish fedora and a pair of sunglasses, though following his trail of vision made Sandra think that he was looking directly at her.

He was waving at her, motioning for her to approach him.

Sighing, Sandra strolled over to the stranger.

"And look at you..." the man said in a smooth, unsettling voice. He stared up at Sandra from his seat, giving her a sleek, creepy smile. "A new face... that beautiful, new face. Oh... you're perfect."

"Uh-huh..." Sandra responded blankly.

"I can tell by that... vault suit... that you're definitely not native to this cesspool of radiation that these people are calling a town," Mr. Burke said quietly, giving her a slow surveying up and down. "And that... that makes you very valuable."

"Does it?" Sandra said, not understanding this man's drift at all.

"Of course it does, my dear. You see... you have no ties to this place. No connection to its people. No reason to cling to this place... and well... if this town were to, oh, I don't know... disappear? Who would care? Certainly not you, or I," Mr. Burke explained. "I have in my possession a fusion pulse charge. The bomb in the center of town isn't inactive, my dear. It just needs a little... motivation."

Sandra listened intently. She didn't like where this conversation was going, but she masked her emotion best she could.

"Why would you wanna destroy the town?" she whispered, peeking around to make sure nobody was listening.

"No, no. I'm simply the recruiter, sweetheart. You get to have all the fun," Mr. Burke told her. "I represent certain... interests... that wish to have this town eliminated. It's a rather nasty eyesore on the rest of the wasteland."

"It's not an eyesore. It's amazing," Sandra replied truthfully. "These people built this place themselves. It's anything but an eyesore."

Mr. Burke stared silently at her for a few seconds.

"And you're wrong. I do live here," Sandra continued, her voice strengthening as she began to get carried away. "You blow this place up, and you're blowing me up with it. You really wanna do that? You wanna kill me for no good reason?"

Mr. Burke opened his mouth to respond, but no words came to him.

Gob was peering over the edge of the bar. He tried to eavesdrop, but he was only able to catch a few loose words.

"I... well, you... you certainly are something new," Mr. Burke uttered. "I must admit... I've never… met a woman like you before. No... I certainly wouldn't want to blow you to pieces. That would be a terrible waste."

"Blow her to pieces, eh?" a third voice chimed in.

Burke and Sandra both spotted Lucas Simms standing in the saloon's doorway, assault rifle at hand and face scrunched in anger.

"The bomb—you're trying to blow it up? Have you lost your goddamn mind?" Lucas snarled at Burke.

Sandra tip-toed away from them both.

"Oh... sheriff. I believe you must have heard me wrong. This is merely a... misunderstanding," Mr. Burke replied without bothering to stand from his chair.

"Get up. I'm placing you under arrest. At least until I figure out what the hell's going on around here," Lucas ordered, shooting a quick look at Sandra.

Just when Lucas took his eyes off of Burke—the suited man had flown up from his seat, flashing a sleek silenced 10-millimeter.

Sandra bolted forward and planted a solid fist into the suited man's face; Burke dropped his pistol and hit the wall, and Sandra delivered a few more punches before she began to tire herself out.

The vault girl's hand coiled around the collar of Mr. Burke's suit, hoisting him upright and holding him firmly against the rickety wall. His glasses were crooked and his hat had fallen off, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth.

He stared at her quietly, panting, waiting for her to finish the job.

Sandra glared heatedly into the man, chest rising and falling with every furious breath, teeth clenched and eyes burning a fiery blue.

"Go on," Burke urged, smirking as a trickle of blood rolled down his chin. "Do it, you beautiful killer. I'd be pleased to die by your hand."

"Shut up!"

Sandra made a swift jerking motion and slammed his back into the wall a second time.

Amata's 10-millimeter was still sitting in the holster on her hip; she could end the man's life easily right now.

But something, some unknown thing, was stopping her from doing so.

After killing many of Vault 101's security guards, the first thing Sandra did upon her escape to the outside was kneel over the rocky formation and vomit. She simply couldn't stomach the idea that she'd killed all those people—and the last thing she wanted to do now was add to that list.

Without thinking—Sandra suddenly released Mr. Burke.

He nearly fell, barely catching himself, then stood upright and stared at her.

"Walk away from me," Sandra ordered. "Now."

Mr. Burke's eyes lingered on her for a second.

Then he retrieved his hat and marched out of the saloon.

Sandra stood in the center of a staring crowd now, Lucas, Moriarty, Gob, and everyone else all eyeing her with surprise. Huffing out a breath and wanting to dodge all their invasive stares, she made her way out of the saloon as well.

"You let him live?" Bryan asked when Sandra's story ended. "Why didn't you kill him like Charon did his employer?"

Sandra's fingers were intertwined while she rested her chin on her hands. She appeared to be deep in thought.

"Because I don't like killing," she told him. "I'm still getting used to it, and it does get easier… I just… I hate it sometimes. I hate that it has to be that way so often. Besides, that guy… I don't know… I didn't feel like I had to kill him. I don't know why… I just didn't."

Bryan stared at her sadly.

"Still though... it's not all bad," Sandra added. "The townspeople gave me a key to this house, and they threw in a robot butler. The people here like me for doing that, so… that's cool…"

Charon was sitting on the top of the stairs now, arms folded and remaining silent. He'd been listening to their conversation for about five minutes, and he only caught the last bit of Sandra's story about Mr. Burke.

"Madame?" Wadsworth the robot said as he hovered over to the table. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I've been collecting your mail ever since the day you left. Would you like to review your letters?"

One of the robot's three appendages was holding a small assortment of letters. Sandra took them and examined them closely.

"I get mail? Who the hell am I getting mail from…?"

Narrowing her eyes, she made out the address on the upper left corner, which read; Tenpenny Tower.

"I don't know anybody from Tenpenny Tower. Hell... I don't even know what Tenpenny Tower is," Sandra said carelessly, tossing the letters aside. "Screw it. Let's go see Gob and have a drink. We should head out tomorrow. We've had plenty of time to rest but we haven't spent much time with Gob. CHARON!"

Charon jumped when Sandra hollered for him. He stood and made his way downstairs.

They all headed for the saloon, and the sunset had faded into a beautiful starry evening. Sandra shoved the doors of the saloon open like she owned the place, grinning at Gob from across the bar and leading her two companions inside.

"Well, lookie what we have here. Usual rum and Nuka?" Gob said to Sandra, who nodded and claimed a seat close to him.

The lone wanderer looked less intense than usual; she wasn't wearing any patched or armored clothing, and she didn't appear angry or jumpy. Instead, Sandra simply looked happy to be alive, and she was wearing black cargo pants and a sleek gothic tank top.

It was a pleasing sight to Gob, refreshing to see her so at ease.

"You gonna introduce me, kiddo?" Gob said, looking between Charon and Bryan.

"We've met before," Charon interrupted before Sandra could answer. "You used to live in Underworld, right?"

"Yeah, that's right," Gob replied. "You... you're the bouncer from the Ninth Circle, aren't you?"

"Not anymore. I bought his contract," Sandra told him proudly. "We found Bryan here living by himself in Grayditch. We've gotta head out in the morning to Rivet City, but we decided to take it easy here for a bit first. We've been through a lot the past few days."

"Makes sense," Gob commented while he began mixing Sandra's drink. "Want some ice for this, kiddo? I got some out in the cooler—"

Thwack.

Moriarty appeared behind Gob and gave him a hard smack on the head. Gob instantly fell silent.

Sandra, Charon, and Bryan all glared at him at once.

"You ain't a party line, sunshine. Now quit actin' chatty. I don't pay ya' to be happy. Serve 'em up and move on to the next consumers, or I'll ship yer' ass back to the rotfest you came from in pieces. 'Ave you got that, ya' worthless meatsack?" Moriarty griped at Gob, then marched out from behind the bar and stepped outside.

The four of them were silent for a small moment.

"What's wrong with that guy?" Bryan said disdainfully, still staring at the door where Moriarty had vanished. "He's an asshole."

"He's an asshole to all of us." Nova, the ginger-haired prostitute, told him. She adjusted her bra and leaned on the wall again. "Mostly to Gob, though. Jackass."

Gob said nothing, but continued mixing the Nukarum, trying not to let it lose its fizz.

Sandra surveyed Gob. He seemed to be avoiding eye contact with her.

Then—a thought suddenly occurred to her, one that was both brilliant and wildly impulsive.

"Gob. Can I rent a room?" Sandra asked.

Gob looked up at her. "Yeah, of course."

Sandra slid ten bottle caps toward him, then stood and departed the bar.

She climbed up the stairs where the hotel rooms were, leaving her friends downstairs.

Once she was alone in one of the empty rooms, Sandra locked the door and began rifling through her satchel.

She located the thing she was looking for; a stealthboy that she'd found inside of one of the metro stations. She activated the stealthboy, and it covered her entire body with a transparent and invisible coating, keeping her mostly invisible to the naked eye like a chameleon.

Sandra carefully climbed out of the window, then crouched on the metal balcony and silently made her way around the building.

Moriarty was standing in his usual spot in front of the saloon, his hands resting on the rusty guardrail as he overlooked the town from above. He'd always be standing there, always staring over Megaton quietly, never talking to anyone unless it was about business.

Sandra moved like a shadow in the night, as the cloak of darkness made her even more impossible to detect.

Stealth wasn't her usual forte, but she was giving it her all now.

When she drew dangerously close to Moriarty, she noticed that the guardrail was broken in one place, a rusted metal pole worn and broken nearly in half, just in front of his shin.

Perfect.

With a swift and powerful strike—Sandra shoved the guardrail directly forward, and it bent and snapped at once.

Moriarty let out a scream—and Sandra stood and kicked him squarely in the back before he could catch his balance.

The man fell over the balcony and descended into the town, his limbs flailing, unleashing a hoarse, echoing scream the whole way down. Sandra simply watched, showing no reaction when she heard the crunching of his bones atop the megaton bomb down below.