Fourteen Years Ago

Outwardly, the city of ghouls hadn't changed much. The twelve-foot side paneling of oxidized metal sheeting completely encasing around the city was still very much intact, the rolls of rusty barbed wire a nicely added deterrent to most wasteland creatures and smaller-minded humans. The only way inside known to most inhabitants was the front gate, now stationed with a roving guard.

Carol stepped confidently forward to the new addition of Braxton's outer defenses. One look at the necrotic faces of herself and her companion's granted them instant access- Braxton was a safe haven for ghouls, no matter your past, or present business.

There were bodies littering the alleyways in the early morning hours. No one raised their heads to the sky to witness the beautiful bloom of purples and golds the sunrise had to offer, as they were still struggling to rise from the murky depths of the previous night's afflictions of either drugs or alcohol.

Carol remembered her first sight of them- the sickening revulsion she had felt upon witnessing someone so disfigured that they appropriately belonged six feet under. Now, she was just as outwardly misshapen as the rest of them…but mentally, she had not thrown herself to the mindless numb jet and med-x had to offer to stave her new reality.

No.

There was something much sweeter she had learned to sink her yellowed, chipped teeth into.

The duo made their way to the old, abandoned building leading down into the vault. Whether the city's inhabitants were still clueless as to what lay beneath their feet, or they simply didn't care, was of no concern. What concerned the ghoul was what was left remaining inside.

LT whirred at the entrance, so ever the loyal guard dog. "Now you hold off right there, maggot farms! I am under orders to-"

"LT, 0-630!" Carol snapped, bypassing around the floating Mister Gutsy as it processed the numbered protocol.

"Er, welcome back, Dr. Harbing."

The large ghoul fell in step behind her, ever so quiet and watchful of their surroundings. Carol weaved down the metal corridors with practiced ease, coming to a halt before a room with a lone man clasping his head in his hands at his desk. The ghoul standing silent guard behind her crossed his arms as she cleared her throat, boldly announcing her presence to the previous head of operations. With deliberate slowness, David lifted his gaze, his eyes unseeing…or perhaps witnessing something that was not there.

"Ah…Carol. I trust your trip was eventful." Was all he said in a robotic tone, and he lowered himself back into his solitude.

Carol gave a brief glance over her shoulder to her companion, then proceeded alone inside the study. "How long has it been like this?"

"I do not know what you speak of."

Carol sighed tersely. "David, for godsakes, how long has the vault been stationary? I can see you have no new subjects- what happened to X-16?"

David remained eerily quiet for a long spell. Carol was about to repeat her question before he sat upright in his chair, regarding her with those same eyes she was once terrified of. "The experiment is a failure. Vault 91 is no longer of standing function."

"Not yet, it's not." Carol placed her hands down on the desk and leaned in close. She would have thought the fresh whiff of decay would have made the smoothskin cringe, or at least crinkle his nose in distaste, but he betrayed no such reaction. "David, I found her-" She then turned her head around, staring Roman straight in the face. "I found him."

Eleven Years Ago

The town of Lewis was extremely ordinary, as far as wasteland towns would go. Passable defenses, not totally up to par to withstand a full brunt super mutant horde, but just satisfactorily enough to deter the local band of raiders. And, like most towns Thomas passed through, it had its barefaced revulsion towards ghouls.

"If I hear ya causin' any trouble, I'm puttin' a bullet right in that mushy brain of yers, ya got that zombie?" The pot-bellied sentry spat as the ghoul strode past.

The ghoul ignored the daggered stares spearing him in the back; if he couldn't handle the two hundred years' worth of bigotry thrown at him by now, then he was just asking to receive some shit from his fellow apocalypse survivors as well. It's not like directing anger much helped…that insufferable bounty hunter had made the previous town a no ghoul zone after supposedly riling up a bar fight, and then beating the shit out of its patrons and bartender over some stupid, insignificant insult thrown his way.

The ghoul still had a crick in his neck from camping out on the hard ground. The twinge of dull pain brought his hand up to caress the said spot as he wandered around town, hoping to find the individual that he was tasked with retrieving.

If finding someone is your objective, you should speak to the bounty hunter, Cross. He usually makes a frequent stop in the city…he would make a better candidate than myself.

Oh, I've heard of him…but I need someone with a little more finesse, for this particular situation. I've been told a few things about yourself, and believe you are much more suitable for the job. For enough caps, of course.

He came to a small hill that gently sloped, and after he reached the top, he spied a young woman sitting in the grass, her head buried in the pages of a book. It wasn't often you found literate individuals in the wasteland, less so those that read for enjoyment. He slowly came around to the side, confident his loud crunching over the dried stalks would raise her head to the encroaching intruder…but she remained oblivious to the world, those eyes scanning the pages feverishly as she twirled a strand of golden-brown hair around one finger.

He couldn't help but stare at her for a moment- she looked young, but she was very eye-catching. A pretty girl, that shouldn't be left alone for mere strangers to invade upon. He blinked down at her dress- it was stained with dirt and tattered in rips. It wouldn't be for another few weeks that he would discover that she was actually just careless with her clothes, almost resembling a feral animal as she roved about the countryside in search of adventure.

The ghoul cleared his throat politely, and she finally raised her head to him. For the first time since he left the city, he did not receive any animosity or repulsion from his presence being too close. Instead, she gave him a curious once over with the bluest eyes that perfectly blended into the sky.

Thomas gave a point to her novel. "Is that Hamlet?"

A shy shrug. "…it's boring," she conceded.

"Boring?" Thomas laughed, shaking his head as he crossed his arms and tapped at his elbow with a few fingers. "Nonsense. You just need to learn to read between the lines to enjoy it properly."

Her brows furrowed. "That's what my mother told me…to which, I replied, then it doesn't make a very good book to begin with, now does it?"

The ghoul couldn't help the smile that spread across his face, momentarily forgetting his real reason for journeying this far. Whomever he was meant to find, perhaps wouldn't mind waiting for just a few minutes more.

The Present

The ferryman didn't wait around for a bathtub to magically walk on its own from the raging inferno inside the police station. With a single leap up the concrete steps, he disappeared inside the building, being completely consumed by the fire and ash that he was reborn from. Cross came to a skidding halt, and everyone shielded their face behind their arms as a succession of eruptions busted through a wall; the fire had delightfully discovered a case of grenades.

It was only a matter of minutes, but the wait bloated out into eternity. When Cross felt as though his muscles would tear from the strain of just standing there, Charon rushed back outside, smothering the licking flames across his body with a brunt smack of his gloved palm. The remnants of his patchy red hair were singed, and still smoking.

"She's not there," he grunted, his relief as audible in his tone as it was in Cross's exhale of breath.

"What of Penny?" Thomas asked nervously, and he was replied with a head shake. "Okay, here's what-" A brunt fist collided with his skull, and the glowing ghoul dropped to the ground like a sack of flour.

"I don't want to hear another fuckin' word out of that damn mouth!" Cross snarled, raising his gauss rifle at the nearest ghoul that was expected to retaliate. "We're all in this shit because of him. If you want to save what's left of this-" A nod of his head to the burning buildings in the background beginning to light the night sky in an eerie orange glow. "-be my fuckin' guest. We're out."

Thomas's few guards lowered their weapons, and one helped the former head of security to his feet. The merc had to hand it to the other ghoul, he sure knew how to take a hit.

"Let them go." The glowing ghoul's voice was…tired. "He's done what I've asked."

A gloved finger was stabbed in the air. "Damn right, more than I owe ya."

Thomas snorted, wincing from the pain that twinged across his cheekbones. "That is an over-exaggeration."

"I got fuckin' stabbed you glowin' cunt!"

"And I emit more radiation than I care to," he replied evenly. "One of us is already recovered…if we do not settle this tonight, they will continue to follow her." He clenched his jaw. "If they do not already have what they need."

"Is that a threat?"

"An almost certainty. My task force is spread extremely thin as is. At least to our advantage, we have them cornered in the city...but if she leaves, you may never get her back. Then it is on your shoulders."

Another detonation blew a building up in smoke down another avenue. One of the ghouls by Thomas's side shifted uneasily. "Sir, that was Town Hall."

A loud crack of thunder rumbled overhead, drowning out the chaos in the city. Thomas blinked upward, lost in thought for a few moments.

I will come back for you, Evelyn, I promise.

I will hold you to that, Thomas Ridges!

He turned to his few remaining loyal squad members, men and women of his brigade that were dutifully awaiting what would be his last set of orders. "Evacuate the citizens of the city in any way you can, and then evacuate yourselves."

Their faces dropped, but they didn't move. "S-sir?"

"We have lost the city. I am no longer your superior. Thank you for all you have done." Thomas unholstered his .45, giving the bounty hunter a solid nod of his head. In all the years that Braxton had stood tall, he never thought he would have seen the day it would burn before his very eyes. Cross had been right. "I will help you in any way I can to get her back. Where is Roman? Should he not at least be with you?"

There was a shuffling of footsteps behind him, as the rest of his party turned tail to fulfill his final request. The merc was wildly patting down his inner pockets, glancing around feverishly at his feet in the hopes it had conveniently dropped. No, no-

"What is it?" Charon took a step towards him.

"That fuckin' contract, I don't have it-" Undress, quick. "-oh, fuck." He met the ferryman's eyes. "Where does Evelyn normally keep yours?"

"In her bra." The ghoul responded automatically. His face then darkened. "What is it you are suggesting?"


"Ugh!" Penny nearly faceplanted as Evelyn sank to her knees, propelling the assisting ghoul off-balance.

The flowing shades of black and orange were tainting her fluttering thoughts into upheaval. The world was spinning at such a rapid rate, how did her body not get sucked into the raging torrent and slam back down into a bloody pulp? Why was there was so much screaming? The souls of the damned were clawing their chipped talons into her psyche, threatening to consume every bit and piece of her until her bones were crunched into dust.

"Charon!" Evelyn pitifully sobbed into the gravel digging into her knees.

"She's not going to make it," Penny hissed, mostly to herself. "She's coming down…we have no choice, we're going through the front door."

Roman watched as Evelyn began to shake violently. He, too, knew the dire aftereffects of shiner on humans…she was only going to get worse. Why would she allow herself to even succumb to that in the first place? …his twin sister was stupid.

The admittance to their sibling relationship struck a chord in his gut, like a cold knife sinking into his intestines.

"Roman." His employer's barking command made him feel at ease. He did not like the worming emotion slithering down his spine every time he took note of the smoothskin at his feet, it was unnatural.

"Charon!" she helplessly cried out.

"Roman!" Penny shouted, and the ghoul threw away all wandering thoughts as he gave his full attention to the panicking ghoul. "You're going to have to carry her."

He bent down and gripped Evelyn by the arms, easily hoisting her upright as though she was nothing more than a light bag of wheat. Before she could sink back into despair, he swept a muscled arm underneath her legs, using his other to cradle her closely lest she spasm from his hold.

Her quivering fingers came to her mouth, and she blinked at him with dangerously dilated pupils. They were nearly as black as his. "You're not Charon," she whispered. "Who are you?"

Penny didn't look over her shoulder as they crossed an empty street towards the Catwalk. "He's the reason you came here." Roman snapped his eyes to the backside of Penny's patchy head. "He's your brother."


Charon carefully navigated the group as he took lead. Lydia stuck close to the merc's elbow as he scanned the crowds fanatically for any sign of Evelyn. Gunfire lit nearly every corner, and Molotov cocktails were being tossed around like pieces of confetti. There was confused shouting and garbled screams from wounded bystanders.

"So, I stand confused," Campbell breathed as they stealthily approached the Catwalk. "We want to go back to those fucking things?!"

Another peal of rolling drums beat across the clouded night sky.

Charon paused in a crouch as he peered around the corner, holding a single finger to his mouth for silence. "Come on." Charon scurried, something quite impressive for a ghoul his size, his followers at his heel. He suddenly stopped, and Cross rammed into him from behind, making him stumble.

"Fuck is it?!" He angrily rasped.

Charon just pumped his shotgun, a warning. The merc peered around his shoulder, staring across the way towards the Catwalk.

Campbell squinted through the darkness. "Was that like that, before?"

A crumbling of rock fell from the second story.

Cross blew out a breath. "Looks like someone beat us to it."

There was a sizeable hole where the entrance of the building used to be, a hazardous sprinkle of rubble and wood strewn everywhere amidst a few bodies ripped in pieces around, some half-eaten. A high-pitch wraithlike screech echoed from somewhere further in the city.

"Great," Charon groused, and everyone's head turned to look at him.

The crimson ghoul raised his barrel as they cautiously crossed, a general sweep for any threats. The merc was covering down on his other side, Thomas slowly bringing up the rear. Lydia felt the hairs on her neck stand to attention, and she froze, giving everyone else the sense to do the same. Without saying a word, she pointed to the side of the building at the corner, and everyone drew their sights upwards.

An overly large, deformed head of something unrecognizable as once being human was staring down at them with the utmost predatory gaze. Dark crimson saliva oozed from its gaping mouth, its unblinking eyes glowing brightly with a sheen of white. Everyone remained completely still, and then, it grinned.

"Oh, fuck that." The merc let off a couple of shots. They met their mark, before the creature leaped away from sight.

Gunshots from behind elicited their attention- a few ghouls were sprinting down the avenue straight towards them with another creature close at their heels. Before the group could make a move, a ghoul in riot gear stumbled, succumbing to evisceration from an outstretched claw ripping through his spine. There was a tink tink as something clattered free from his utility belt, and the air began to grow hazy with a billow of white smoke.

Cross stumbled around blindly, outreaching for something familiar. There was then an explosion from a nearby grenade, and he was thrown off his feet, his ears ringing from the overpower of sound. He wafted his hat around, coughing into his elbow as he finally found himself at the edge of the radius, and he looked around wildly. Lydia was on all fours to the side, crimson spittle hacked up from her lips.

"Shit-" He crouched down and scooped her up to stand, helping her regain her balance. "Hey, you good?!"

Something had struck the side of her face; there was a laceration trailing from her nose, all across her right cheek. Her bottom was lip was bloodied and slightly swollen, but nevertheless, she nodded. "I'm okay."

A scream, and they spied another ghoul barreling down the street with a creature stamping on all fours behind them.

BLAM BLAM BLAM

Click click click

Shit. The bounty hunter was out of rounds, and he stowed his empty magnum, rushing for his dropped rifle a few feet away that had skidded off to the side.

The monster was now advancing towards them at rapid speed, and Lydia looked around wildly for something to cover behind before the squeal of a missile being launched emerged from the smoke. The explosive hit its intended target perfectly- the creature blew wet, warm pieces of flesh all over the three of them. Lydia gagged as she ran a hand down the length of her arms, the sticky slime spiderwebbing from her fingers as she hastily slicked it off.

"That's just wrong." Cross spat out a piece that somehow landed in his mouth, glancing down at the gory pattern he was designed in. A hunk of…something, slid off his chest to slap against the asphalt. "Fuckin' nasty."

Charon reloaded his launcher, and then shouldered it as he looked around for the third one. There were choppy, distorted barks on the rooftop behind him, and he turned to spy the blistering burn the merc's rifle had bestowed on the first experiment.

"Is that thing fuckin' laughin'?" Cross reequipped himself.

Charon locked on. There was a beep beep beep, and the missile screeched, but before it could land the hit, the creature whipped back to disappear into the throng of the chaos in the city center. The ferryman growled; that had been his last missile, and it was now wasted into the side of a building.

"Ya know what, we can save that one for later."

Thomas coughed into his elbow; the radiation he discharged glowing in the blackened pit of the building he stood in. "Let's go, before anymore show up."


Carol's milky eyes drew to slits at the smoothskin huddled in a tight ball in the containment lab. Despite the fact it had been a few decades, she couldn't quite help but feel as though the past was simply yesterday; another morning round, another cup of stale coffee, another day of frayed nerves. She had become so used to the monotony of experimenting on random wastelanders at this point she had felt a surge of surprise when David's synth revealed to her that this was X-17. The monster of a little girl was very much grown…into a monster of a woman.

"You were such a shit, even back then," Carol commented off-handedly, almost to herself. She blew smoke to the side, flicking the ash of her cigarette. "All those fucking years of pointless bullshit…of waiting around, hoping you weren't already dead in a fucking ditch somewhere, coming out the asshole of some wasteland creature."

Evelyn said nothing, but just continued to sit there quietly as she spiraled down from her high. A racking cough escaped Carol's lips, and she wiped the spittle away with the backside of her hand. Roman was standing at her elbow, his black eyes unwavering over the smoothskin woman making pitiful noises to herself.

"I'm curious, Roman, how does it feel, knowing you two once shared the same womb?" Carol half-turned to him, blowing smoke upwards at his face.

Penny was tapping her foot impatiently, arms crossed in a manner that matched her edgy expression. "Can we just get on with it? Once they find out our bodies are missing from the station, they're sure to be looking for her."

"Her? What you really wanted to say was me. Jealousy doesn't feel very good, now does it?" Carol smirked as Penny turned her head away. She snapped her fingers. "Roman, hand me your gun."

The ghoul reached behind himself, untucking his pistol from the waistband of his pants and handing it to his sixth new employer of that day alone. Carol raised the gun about waist level and fired off a shot at the only door granting instant access to their section. Sparks blew from the hole in the panel, and she relinquished the gun back to its original owner.

"Nobody knows the entry into this side from the tunnels but us, so now, even if they did come, they're going to have a shit time trying." She dismissed Roman with a wave of her hand. "Go get the pod ready."

Inside her coat pocket, she produced an environmentally controlled canister, the glint of two needles refracting the lighting from inside. "Okay, X-17. Hold still."


Thomas scanned the monitors still providing a live feed of nearly every hallway and major atrium in the vault. It was void of any life besides their own. "Are you sure Carmen said there was another part to the vault?"

"Swear it on my fuckin' grave." Cross was busily conducting his own search with his eyes on the screens, but came up with the same gut-wrenching conclusions: either Evelyn was already out of the city, or she was a casualty somewhere in the streets above their heads. They weren't here.

Lydia pulled up a rolling chair to the terminal, booting the computer to life with a single click of a key. Her fingers then typed away fanatically, and she smiled at the screen that popped up. "Got it."

Campbell pat a hand down on her shoulder. "Find something?"

A nod. "I watched that ghoul last time when he entered the code to the vault." She wiped a hand at her runny nose, smearing some blood under her right eye from the laceration. "There was a prompt for another access page I couldn't figure out before, but now that I know the code-" The bright success in her eyes crashed to the floor. "-wait, shit. I need a Pip-Boy to-"

"Will this-" Thomas dug into his trench coat pocket. "-be of use to you?" David's Pip-Boy was tossed to the wiry mercenary.

The two shared a grin as she inserted the pin into the terminal. "Eat shit, Marshall." A click of a few keys, and her dark eyes peered over the hub of the computer. "Bingo. It's open."

Cross looked over the screens for any hint of flickering movement. "I don't see shit, ya sure?"

"It's going to be in David's study," Thomas concluded, catching the Pip-Boy back with one hand.

They maneuvered down the labyrinth of blood-soaked halls, bypassing large webs of goo cascading in shiny waterfalls across some entryways. The merc slathered at some drizzling on the shoulder of his jacket. He about had half a mind to submerge Evelyn's face in it when he finally got ahold of her- it would only be a fitting punishment for all the shit she'd put him through just in this last fucking month. If this was the tell-tale of how this relationship was going to go…not like it mattered, he was a total sucker for her. He'd endure all the shit the world had to throw at him if it meant she was the one pitching it.

The thought of her only quickened his steps, and he soon left the others behind as he began to race down the hallway, bracing a gloved hand around the edge of David's doorway as he swung himself inside. The desk was completely elevated from the floor, a passage of stairs leading to another section below.

"Always ever so eager," Thomas commented dryly when they finally stepped inside. The bounty hunter's echoing footsteps could be heard dashing down the hallway below.