In which our heroine gets to experience the wonders of the wasteland... one terrifying creature at a time. Well, technically MANY creatures at a time... but they're all the same creature sooo... It counts.
The biggest reason I'm delving into these revelations is because I feel Sole Survivors introduction to the world is poorly represented. Think about it - you come up from a Vault, feeling like just yesterday you could pop open the fridge for a sandwich and now suddenly you're face to face with mutant radiated creatures.
The emotional impact of this intrigues me and I'm exploiting it. I mean, exploring it. Enjoy.
The morning greeted me cold. Anxiously I pulled back the bandage I had wrapped around my leg. A thin pink line was all I had to show for the wound I had received from that hell hound the morning before. I groaned as I stood. My muscles ached and my stomach growled. My head was pounding.
I poked through the leftover food, grimacing at the congealed fat. I shook my head, drinking more of my dirty water from last night. I would have to reheat and eat that... animal? (hopefully)... before it went bad. I pulled at my PipBoy, the skin underneath was marked and tender. I had been too afraid of needing to make a quick getaway to take it off.
I grabbed at the sliver of mirror I had taken into the living room with me and assessed the damage. My eyes looks as though someone had punched me. Twice. My hair was a disaster, my skin sallow. My teeth felt fuzzy and my breath was absolutely atrocious. Every now and again my movement brought up a waft of my own body odor through the neck of my vault suit. Every muscle screamed, and not in the good 'I just worked out' way.
I was a hot mess, and not the cute kind.
What am I doing?! I'm a pampered housewife, not some... some... survivor. I finished meekly, grabbing a rag from my pack and dunking it in my bloody bowl, scrubbing my teeth and tongue till my gums felt raw.
The house I had stayed in was silent. It bothered me that there were no chirping birds, no scrambling puppies or cats. Curiously I made my way into each individual room, hoping that maybe I had overlooked something in my daze yesterday.
"Good morning ma'am!" Codsworth whirred up behind me from nowhere.
"Jesus fucking Christ Codsworth!" I nearly screamed, my hand flew over my heart, the rapid pace was staccato against my ribcage. "Warn a girl. It's been 210 years since I've seen you man!"
"Pardon me, ma'am. I have some water for you." He set the container down and motored off again, obviously unimpressed and uninterested in me.
I frowned. I wasn't sure this newly self-aware version of Codsworth was really my favorite. He seemed to dislike when I mentioned the time gap. Maybe all that time alone had... damaged him somehow.
Of course it did. I rolled my eyes. He's autonomous now. That's not normal.
"Oh thank God." I whispered, greedily grabbing the water.
A tube of purified stuff. I closed my eyes, savoring the flavor of fresh water. No gritty bits, no iron after taste. Just pure, clean water. Nearly immediately I felt my body restored by the liquid. Funny what good, quality sustenance could do for a person. My headache eased.
Cautiously I stepped into the weak sun, shivering a little. The vault suit was insulated, but not enough to really keep a person warm. I looked down at my outfit; one leg shredded, the other missing a chunk at the thigh, blood and gore sticking and staining my left side. I needed clothes. Speculative, I thought about the weirdly clean dress I had found and shoved into the bottom of my backpack.
I shook my head, moving towards the bridge and hesitating.
A dress wouldn't do me any good in a fight. Plus I shredded it to dress my wound, I need something that'll keep my bits covered, maybe something with a bit of protection from... everything. I bit my lip anxiously before turning back around, Codsworth's directions to Concord whispering in the back of my mind. Start with the familiar, then move on to the new.
I spun on my heel, observing the once glimmering jewel of domestication. First thing was first, I needed food and supplies, thicker clothing if I could find anything. My eyes settled on the large mass across the bridge, dark and unmoving.
Maybe... No. I shook my head, backing up a few steps. No, I'm not ready for that.
With that settled I moved towards the first house, making my way around the bank and into the foliage behind. A low growl had my heart racing and my hand on my weapon.
"W-who's there?" My voice was small, shaky.
I grimaced, reprimanding myself inwardly. 'W-who's there?' I mocked myself, so scary. Fucking idiot. That won't scare anyone.
The growl repeated, followed by a few unholy moans. Anxiety pricked my empty stomach, the all too familiar feeling of nausea welled up in my throat. Quietly I wormed my way through the dried brush and dead trees. The sight stopped me dead, a hand flew over my mouth to muffle the cry.
People!
Overjoyed I took a few bounding steps, my eyes locked on one of them. As the detail of their bodies came into view my gait faltered, then stopped. They weren't right. Their skin was wrapped around them, raised and sunken in odd patterns. Their eyes were lidless, they had holes in their heads where ears would have been, lipless, gap-toothed mouths hung open. Wordless cries rasped in tortured, mindless waves from their throats.
Their stomachs all were bloated from rot and the slow decay of their soft-tissue. Horrified I took a step back, right into the bush I had just come around. The sound of crisp, dead branches snapping made me freeze again.
One of them raised its hairless head. For a horrible, terrible minute there was nothing. The monster that had once been human looked at me with an animalistic glare; anything in it that had once been human was gone. Its eyes were black, pitch black nothingness. Nothing but anger and hunger; pure survival and primitive instinct missing the higher brain function as evidenced by the broken teeth and damaged skeletal frame; obvious even from the 20 or so yards that separated me from them.
My blood froze cold as I counted the number that had huddled together; as I remembered my friends and that fateful day. These were my neighbors.
I let out a gasp that broke the uneasy tension. Without hesitation, I ran.
My feet slipped in the debris up the hill. Cursing I levelled my gun, piercing the air with a shot. One of the creatures stumbled momentarily, then launched itself with frightening speed, eating the ground between us, halving the distance in seconds. I let off another shot, this time my aim was true. One of the monsters, probably Mrs. Sumner judging by the color and pattern on the tattered dress, went down and didn't move again. Turning on my heel I ran, gaining some distance between myself and the irradiated herd behind me.
"Codsworth!" I screamed as my feet slapped against the pavement, "Help!"
I stopped again, spinning on the ball of my foot and waited, crouched, steadying my arm on my knee. One came into view. I breathed out and squeezed the trigger. The force of the bullet made it fall back somewhat, I shot again. It went down.
Out of the corner of my eye fire erupted, spewing forth into the crowd of monsters as Codsworth whirred around. One of the creatures made contact, leathery hide scraping along Codsworths metal.
"Tis but a scratch!" He roared in his accented voice, his buzzsaw stretching out and slicing the monster to bits.
Coming to my senses, despite the ridiculously terrifying scene before me, I once again levelled my handgun and shot the few remaining bodies, easier targets once they were distracted by my old robotic butler.
I waited for the flames to die down, Codsworth hovering protectively beside me. Silently I approached the corpses. The smell was something between rancid ham and burnt rubber. I shuddered, then began going through what was left of their clothes for pockets.
"How did you do that?" I asked Codsworth, who was still hovering beside me.
"It's been over two centuries, ma'am." He whirred, his lenses focusing and adjusting to me. "I have had to defend this place from my fair share of ruffians and things."
I smiled up at him, wiping my hands off on my pants. "I'm impressed! What... what were those?"
But Codsworth had motored of already. I shook my head, moving back towards the fire pit. I needed to eat. After I had something substantial in my gut I'd take back to exploring the houses.
I sat at the computer, the screen buzzing with the hum of electricity before me. I savored it. I didn't realize how quiet everything had become, how... lonely and disconnected, before turning on that computer screen.
I earned this. The bomb and tripwires and traps had been extensive and frightening. One wrong move and the leg I'd just stitched could have been blow off. I earned a moment to savor the dirty details displayed in toxic-green, I earned the artificial glow of light and the static charge when I touched the computer.
Lazily I read through the names and the chems, not really caring. At first the revelation had been titillating, getting the dirt on my neighbors. Until I realized I had no one to tell. No one would care that these people, faded into oblivion long ago, were buying chems in our supposed pristine slice of heaven. Or selling them either. The image of the faces from earlier rose unbidden. I shivered involuntarily against the memory of those soulless black eyes, sunken and dry.
I stood, stretching. I made my way back to the safe, disarming the tension bomb with shaky fingers fast learning their trade. I leaned back on the balls of my feet, knowing I couldn't break into the safe; tempted to try anyway.
"Nope. Lock's too difficult." I sighed, putting the bobby pin back in my hair. "Well," I corrected to no one, "maybe it's because I don't actually know how to do this..."
I'd never picked a lock before. Aside from the occasional voyeuristic acts with Nate I'd been relatively well behaved. I smiled a small, secret smile, thinking back to that day at the park. It was the day we conceived Shaun, I was sure of it. It hadn't been exactly forbidden, passionate, or exciting but we were happy. That's what mattered. We had been a comfortable, happy couple.
My hand wrapped around his ring in my pocket. It clinked against my own band on my finger.
"Comfortable." The word spat out of my mouth with venom.
Angrily I turned on my heel and all but fled the building. My vision felt limited, my heart was pounding as though to escape my chest. I couldn't breathe. My body felt light and fuzzy. Chest heaving I stopped in the street, squeezing my eyes closed for a long while. Until my heart rate slowed and my stomach unclenched. I blinked. And then blinked again.
What the fuck?
Tall, leafy trees blew in a gentle wind. Rosa and Mrs. Whitfield were chatting in front of the Able's house. They had just repainted it. Again. Halloween decorations were being put up. I smiled softly, tears coming gently as I walked down the street towards my house.
There was Codsworth, faithful robot, pulling the weeds out front. The sounds of Shaun mobile drifted faintly over the empty space. I paused at the open front door, peering in to see Nate's strong back. Warmth flooded through me; relief and comfort.
"Nate-" My voice was cut short.
As soon as I stepped through the entryway reality crashed back down. My house was in shambles, my life was in shambles. Cautiously I stepped into the home for the second time, I had been too overwhelmed when Codsworth gave me the grand tour to really take it in. The flag was still there. The one they gave Nate for his services. Our couch, television.
The layout of the house was nearly unrecognizable in its state of decay. Cautiously I opened the fridge. Empty milk bottles. Anger coursed through me.
Shaun.
I shut the fridge, breathing. I should have left, but curiosity drew me to the back of the house, past my bedroom, past the bathroom... into Shaun's room. The sight brought me to my knees. His crib, his mobile... even his 'You're S.P.E.C.I.A.L' book were still here. Unable to see through the tears I crawled, bumping into the broken chair that I had held him in, that I had nursed him in. I sobbed, my voice hitching in my breath. My body ached for my baby. My arms were heavy and empty, my chest was cold and hollow without him cradled against me.
I pulled myself up on my knees beside his crib, my hand desperately searching for the warm, soft, tender baby skin I knew I wouldn't find.
I clutched at the dirty mattress, "I'll find you." I whispered, fire lit anew in my gut.
I was alone, I was lost. But so was he. What kind of mother spent her time feeling sorry for herself when her infant child was lost in a world where roaches had grown to be the size of house cats?
"I'll find you."