A/N:
I want to give a shout-out to rmctagg09 and The Stranger In the Raincoat for reviewing! (And of course to those people that read this and NOT review!)
Again you know the drill: All trademarks belong to their respective owners, including Fallout 3 to Bethesda, various real life trademarks, and of course for mine and other fan created characters that are featured in this story. I don't plan to earn any money off of this. Please read and review.
"Personally, when it comes to rights, I think one of two things is true: I think either we have unlimited rights, or we have no rights at all. Personally, I lean toward unlimited rights - I feel, for instance, I have the right to do anything I please. But, if I do something you don't like, I think you have the right to kill me. So where you gonna find a fairer fucking deal than that?" – George Carlin
Chapter 8: Kýrie eléison
"What could possibly go wrong?" I asked earlier, confident that a pair of battle tested, but still quite new wastelanders with two rock-n'-roll ready rifles were free from threats. If I had to make a comparison from when we left the Vault, I'd say I feel like that we were superior to the average waste-douches this land seems to be inhabited with. I thought we were invincible and had nothing to lose, except maybe our own sanity. I tried to stifle this enormous yawn as best I could.
The more I walked around this wasteland, I think I realized how small and relatively forgiving our world in the Vault really was. Has the Wasteland enlightened me? To a point, though I still think the both of us are pretty stubborn. I think I have turned into a battle-tested, battle-hungry, gun-loving insomniac that finds it painful to swallow my own pride for a moment. I could be wrong but that's what I felt at the moment. The wasteland must have done something to the both of us, though I really couldn't comment for Megan. I'm sure I'm not alone in the personality changes, though.
I looked at the night sky on the topmost deck with some of the concrete nearly crumbling out from under me. There were virtually no people up here. I guess it was much easier to just build a few makeshift dividers on the lower floors and just be done with it. Who'd want to live trying to fight a driving dust-storm if their life was crap to begin with already? I sure wouldn't try and build anything.
I lazily pushed a few buttons on my PIP-BOY, not really knowing nor caring what I had pushed. My PIP-BOY vibrated, catching me completely off guard. Frick…
PRE-DESIGNATED CO-ORDINATE No. 1 "HOME": VAULT 111
APPROXIMATELY 3.0 MILE(S) NW OF CURRENT LOCATION. APPROXIMATE TRAVEL TIME: UNKNOWN.
Only 3 miles? I thought we traveled a lot farther than that. Maybe it's because we were completely lost, stopping at nearly every place to find our direction and figuring out what the hell were we going to do next. More importantly though, home? What was "home" now? Was it that abandoned sports center? Was it the Smiling Buddha? No. We are wanderers now, only with a simple, but fleeting goal; find my dad. He could be anywhere really, the best hint I had was "Castle Bravo." Knowing it came from the asshole who said it, he could just be giving us false information for all I know.
"Wow, you're up super early," I heard Megan lazily comment as I rested my hands behind me on the crumbling concrete. No shit, Sherlock, probably would have been my smartass response if I didn't feel so groggy from the lack of sleep.
"Feeling homesick, Todd?" I heard Megan hesitantly ask behind my back. Dammit, I forgot to put in on stand-by. She must have seen my PIP-BOY.
I chose my words carefully. "It doesn't matter. It's not for you to know..." I mumbled, my voice just trailing off.
"It does matter, Todd." Megan chided me a bit."I thought you remembered that- "
"'We're a team'. Yeah I know that already," I irritably finished her sentence. "For all I know, we gotta get moving from this place."
"But-"
"If going home means going back to the vault, it's suicide," I calmly explained as best I could, not letting my feelings get in the way. "Going back to the Smiling Buddha is lunacy, going back to that abandoned sports center is stupidity." I stood up and wiped some of the dirt and the grime off my face. "And this place is going to collapse any minute."
I didn't look at her. Even if I didn't say it, I was anxious to move on. I must have realized that I would have something over my shoulder, at my side, or buried somewhere deep within my soul. It was just inevitable, I guess.
I pushed those thoughts back into my head as I tried to figure out how the hell we were going to get out of this place. I was getting kind of tired of crossing in the heat, since this was a station, there must be abandoned tunnels, a great relief. The fact that no one knew a way past this place seemed extremely suspicious to me, like people genuinely didn't know or were too afraid to talk. I'm guessing it was the latter. So we just nonchalantly wandered around the station, trying to act like we weren't ready to shut ourselves in and start a firefight. If our PIP-BOY wasn't there to keep track of where we went, we probably would've checked the same rooms over again, probably due to my lapse of judgment.
"It doesn't make sense," Megan wondered. "There must be a way to the next station."
I wanted a little cheap fun, as I was getting tired of focusing on the mundane ordeal at hand. I raised my left index finger and deftly, but firmly, poked Megan on her side.
"Ehee!" she shrieked, after stopping for a split second. "Todd!" she cried. I was laughing so hard. It was mindless entertainment, but it felt good.
My laughter suddenly weakened as she pulled out a strange looking device, looking like it was a modified camera with half of it covered in electrical tape. I didn't think of it too much until I saw a tiny spark jump from the thin wires that poked out of the top. My laughter soon turned to amazement and then to horror when I finally realized, she made a primitive stun gun! Oh shit! I bolted, obviously trying to run from a person that has the power of electricity at their fingertips. Crap! How the hell did she get her hands on that; or worse, how to make one!? I rounded a corner and soon came to a dead end. Lovely.
I pressed my back up against the debris pile of concrete blocks, looking at the pint-sized terror before me. "Don't shock me!" I pleaded. "Look, I'm sorry!"
"I'm not that mean," Megan coyly purred, obviously relishing in my moment of terror. "I just need someone to test this thing on."
She swiftly moved it toward me as the two loose wires soon made contact with my thigh. "Shit!!" I yelped as I recoiled from the painful electric shock, my feet scraping on the ground for a moment. It could have been worse nor was it life threatening but it was certainly not pleasant.
"Damn, it only lasts for one use," she looked it disappointingly. "What a pity. Now where were we," she deftly changed the subject. "Any ideas on how to get out of here?"
"Shut up," I said. I looked down and noticed something metallic, kicking it a bit. Noticing that it was some kind of handle, I slid it back, revealing a particularly intriguing and menacing hole. I shined my PIP-BOY over it. At least it looked shallow enough for the both of us not to break any of our bones.
"Well, ladies first," I quipped. "I am the better shot after all."
Megan scowled a bit and reluctantly went down first as I stood by, hoping I didn't need to pry my rifle from my back. We were in a perfect position to be ambushed. Thankfully, I didn't have to freak out as I joined Megan down in the stuffy tunnel down below. We both strolled down casually with our rifles resting snugly in our hands. I'll admit, I'd would've never imagined Megan and I being proud owners of semi-automatic rifles.
I had noticed that the dosimeter on our PIP-BOY's just got excited. I would be watching mine closely. I think I read somewhere that it could cause dude sterility in a short period of time. Dude sterility. That sounded funny, unless it happened to me of course; then I'd be mercilessly mocked at.
I slipped through the slightly ajar door in front of me, leading to a long, slender hallway. The naked light bulbs flickered on and off as the dim light of my PIP-BOY highlighted the dingy walls that surrounded us. It honestly looked like it was going to cave in on and suffocate us alive.
Suddenly, a pair of ghouls dropped right in front of us. I swear these things come out of nowhere! Screaming or any kind of extra noise we could make was out of the question. Entering VATS was the easiest thing to do as I forcefully gnashed their heads open with the butt of my rifle. Shooting in such a confined space would have surely given us aay. As their bodies dropped to the ground; I wiped their rust colored blood off the butt of my Ruskie-made rifle and moved on.
Getting lost in the tunnels was definitely not my idea of fun. I thought a station was just a bunch a pair of platforms with tracks in the middle of it, simple as that! That's what it was described to us in our prewar crap! I also don't think I have seen a real skeleton in well, ever. I'd thought they would be ground to a fine, powdery dust after 100 years. I guess not, they still had their work suits still attached to them. It wasn't particularly sickening for me, but it was certainly a sobering new experience to say the least.
The both of us silently downed a few more ghouls before coming to another hall, this time surrounded by doors on either side, clearly a dungeon. There were some ghoul corpses on the cold, unforgiving floor we walked on, clearly being killed with a single gunshot. I don't think I could have described what has in front of me.
My train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a low moan I heard coming from one of the rooms. I opened the door nearest to me to find a slender guy strapped to a rusted metal table, which I could tell was radioactive. His auburn hair was falling off in patches, had bruises all over his body, and was sporadically coughing up blood.
"Jesus Christ…" I said softly in amazement. He really looked like a mess. Who could have done this shit to him?
Megan nudged me forcefully implying that we had to save this guy. I found a set of switches to decrease the radioactivity to a non-threatening output while Megan freed some of the latches on him.
He was apparently conscious as he tried to speak, but Megan gagged him, thank God. Had he yelled out anything, he would've gotten all of us killed, or tortured.
I took out a stimpack and a pack of radaway and tried to thread the tube of the radaway package into the hopper containing the vital stimpack fluids. Gingerly carrying the pair of medicines so fragilely intertwined with each other, I carefully set it down on the table beside him. He must have seen the fatass needle because he started squirming shortly after I set them down, nearly knocking the medicine that might save his sorry ass onto the floor.
I flicked the syringe a bit, before looking at him a bit. "I'm no doctor," I whispered stoically. "But I know this is good for you, trust me."
With that shady assurance of mine, I carefully slid the needle into his arm. I'm not sure what kind of artery or vein I hit but I think I did a good job injecting the mixed bag of fluids into his arm. I would have sterilized it if only there was somewhere to do it. The only place I knew was the vault; I don't know where I could have found sterile needles in this bombed out hellhole.
I heard some footsteps. "Megan, can you watch him for me?" I typed on my PIP-BOY and flashed it to her. She nodded, and I quietly slipped out the door back into the hallway, making sure to turn off mine.
I saw a dim glow coming from the other end of the hall; it must have been a guard. Surprisingly, he turned his back for a moment. I took advantage of the opportunity and sneaked into another room.
"Thought I heard something…" I heard him mumble as he went past by me. I had to think of something fast. I didn't have a choice. I just grabbed my pistol, snuck up to him, and just knocked him out with a single blow to the head. I really didn't want to waste VATS on just this dude alone. I dragged his lifeless body through the nearest door I could find and slowly made my way back to check up on our reluctantly impromptu patient.
"There you are, Todd! Where were you?" Megan hissed, obviously disappointed with my lack of timing.
"Nearly got caught," I lowly muttered. "How's he doing?"
"He's great!" Megan said with muted excitement. "He translated the entire thing for us."
"Seriously?" I wondered in vain as Megan showed me her PIP-BOY. Well, more like shoved it into my face. I could make out most of the translation despite some of the smeared, dried blood drops that fell on it. She was completely oblivious to a guy coughing up blood! I guess she was that batshit desperate.
What the trader [don't know] produces, above [?] all, are its own grave [?] diggers. Its fall and the victory of the wastelander are equally inevitable. Therefore [?], kill (or keel?) the traders that rust (or roost?) like (I don't think leek) a parasite in your nest, for they come to (rob or rub?) you of your hard fought wealth… They have brought the disease (what disease?) on you, they must die…
Well at least she got what she wanted. I hope she was happy.
"It's the least I could do," he gruffly commented. "I should repay you- " he stuttered before coughing up more blood. "Name's Andy. You heard of the Sons of Liberty?
"I don't give a shit, you shouldn't even be walking," I looked at him sternly with my arms crossed. "I don't know how many packs -"
"I know, but I have to get back home. Now if you'll excuse me…" Andy said as he limped and stumbled out the door. What a waste of energy really. He obviously wasn't feeling very well, especially from the radiation.
I saw Megan resting nonchalantly against the metal cell wall. "Well?" she asked me curiously.
"If he wants to get himself killed, let him," I shrugged. I didn't have enough supplies or the expertise to treat his multiple radiation and physical injuries. I certainly didn't want my time to be wasted by treating this walking mess of a thing. "We gotta move on, hopefully to another station."
"Well- " I heard Andy cough again. The both of us curiously walked outside the cell to find Andy bracing his arm against the wall. "I just gotta get to Davis Square," he stuttered.
"What's Davis Square?" Megan asked.
"The next one over-" Andy could sputter out before coughing up more. Damn. He was going to attract more guards just waiting to subject us to the same fate he experienced before we saved his ass. The only problem was none of us wanted to risk getting contaminated by whatever fluid that came from him. Hell, it could even be radioactive to us! "I think there's a tunnel…"
"Oi, Mac! You there?" I heard from the opposite end of the hall, behind us. That was enough reason to move on and start looking.
I think I have lost my mind, letting a guy with hair and blood coming out every so often, leading us to hopefully, a magical tunnel that could solve all our problems. Megan and I just trailed behind him as he was too proud and stubborn to have us help him and I was not in the mood to be contaminated. Come to think of it, I've never encountered another guard since I smothered that one earlier. I had the feeling that they were watching us, just waiting to set us up for an ambush. Just exit out the tunnel and then BANG! we were all going to be dead.
Andy soon came to a stop along a lone steel door along a deserted corridor. This had to be it, I surmised as he nearly collapsed opening the door, revealing an earthen tunnel leading to who knows where. I'd guess a convenient ambush site, but hell, my guess was as good any anyone's.
With our new companion in hand, we went into the depths of the tunnel. Companion didn't seem to be the right word, more like an expendable rotting meat shield. We reached the end of the damn thing soon enough, sooner if he didn't keep coughing up blood.
It seemed to deposit us at the top of a train platform. Beyond the corroded metal guardrails was a sea of grime and mess. It had a stuffy air to it, probably because we were located underground. Apart from the concrete and tiling, it still had a tinge of red left. The slats hanging from the ceiling showed a hint of red, as some of the many rods to the left of us were emitting a soft red glow throughout the place. Hell, the sign right in front of me said "RED LINE" with "ASHMONT / BRAINTREE" under it. Obviously the people who paint the place couldn't have come up with a better design scheme.
There was a train just sitting there, for centuries probably, still with the same "T" in a circle emblazoned on its side. The advertisements were at least still readable, promoting Nuka-Cola, The Day the Earth Stood Still, a good pack of Twix, and a cold glass of the fountain of youth. What kind of paradise was this place?
The three of us inched our way down and across the platform, definitely with my rifle in my hands, locked and loaded. Megan was probably a little more relaxed while Andy… well, he was out of luck with a weapon. Broken glass seemed to litter the platform floor, coming from the broken lights above.
We were stopped about halfway up by sudden static filling the station. "Ah, look the little bunny has made more, how fast they come!" an oddly familiar voice chimed through.
"Bunny? Shit..." was all that Andy could cough up before collapsing against a bench.
I had a different idea. "Oliver?" I wonder aloud.
"Of course, you stupid fuck!" it snarled back. "God… did you really think I was that STUPID?"
"What happened to your freakishly ugly accent?" I retorted. I noticed he didn't have any of that talking to me right now.
"Piece of crap! I eat foreigners for breakfast!" Oliver sneered. "The people don't mind." People don't mind? Yeah right. I'm guessing the ones he let live were the ones who survived his welcoming party. Either that, or they're probably all orphans. "Traders think they're on top of the world selling their shit, the people hate 'em and that's it really."
"See! I told you," Megan hissed. Why the hell is she blaming me? As if I knew anything about this crap!
"Indeed, she is right," Oliver mused, obviously having a bit of fun with toying with us a bit. "But enough of that," he changed his tone. "Enjoy your feast lads!"
"What feast?" Megan wondered. I think I had a better idea of what he meant.
"I think that feast is us," I said, aiming my rifle to where we just came from. "Hope you got enough ammo."
Sure enough, there were about three or four guys shooting us a short while later. I squeezed off a few rounds before taking cover behind an old Pepsi vending machine; Megan and Andy were close by thankfully. I went into VATS a couple of times, trying to use it as efficiently as I could. My SVT only had 10-rounds and my stamina was well, questionable at times. Megan was busy returning fire as well, though the pinging on the Garand seemed to resonate a bit, even with the bullets drilling holes into our cover.
A few more came to reinforce them. I couldn't say I had a blast but the adrenaline was definitely flowing. I tried to be a little conservative on my ammunition but going through a few magazines of oh-so-coveted ammunition was inevitable. Amidst the cries of "Reloading!", "Die, dammit!", and the hail of gunfire, I took aim, downing a couple with a few well placed shots. Dammit, my arms were getting tired from holding up this thing, not to mention my trigger finger was getting a bit sore. Those people that fire those "assault rifles" or whatever they were, had the shit. Just hold the trigger down and a spray of gunfire could cause a world of hurt.
As I bent down to reload another magazine I heard the cry of last thing I wanted to hear.
"GRENADE!"
Oh, crap! Grenade! I immediately dived toward the open train to my right and managed to get the door shut. The grenade exploded immediately afterward. I could hear some the shrapnel bouncing off the aluminum train wall and some of piercing the metal skin. I just hoped that none of it would hit me. Megan must have thought of the same thing too as I saw her firmly down on the rusted metal floor of the train.
"Where's Andy?" Megan tried to yell above the gunfire.
"I don't know!" I yelled out before re-focusing on killing the bastard that threw that. I had a feeling that Andy died in that explosion, the radiation took a heavy toll on his body and his mobility.
Megan also re-focused on the people shooting at us. She went in to VATS a couple of times, scoring some nice shots with that beautiful rifle. I heard it ping shortly afterward, the clip ricocheting off one of the doors. All was quiet, at least for now. I rested on the floor of the metro car, trying to have a moment to catch my breath.
That didn't last very long as I heard a gurgling noise coming from the other end of the car. It must be ghouls, should be a piece of cake. Dumb things couldn't walk their way out of a giant wet paper bag if they had to. I saw them lurch forward from out of the darkness, their brown, skin and bones frame seemed oddly fresh, like they were newly minted or something. Either way, they would all meet the butt of my rifle or the sole of my foot. I killed the first one swiftly, sending the butt of the rifle to the ghoul's head with as much force I could put into the hit.
I heard one of them scream out, like it was going to do anything. We both managed to dispatch the some of them with just our pistols, either by shooting them or whacking it over their shriveled heads. Hell, it worked. I think I'll save the last two for my feet.
The last pair of ghouls though, was messed up. It was glowing in a luminescent, fluorescent green color which I'll never forget.
"I've never seen ghouls like those," I wondered in awe. "What the hell are those!?" It honestly looked like something out of a science fiction experiment gone horribly wrong.
I was awed even more when it glowed brightly and sent out an equally bright fluorescent pulse. It made both out PIP-BOY's jostle with excitement. Crap! That was radioactive. How the hell?! I dragged my rifle toward me, reloaded it, and entered VATS again. Thankfully, VATS did their job and two radioactive zombies were dead. I don't think my feet would appreciate being mutated by that, so I skipped out. Next time.
I wandered back up the steps, partly to loot off whatever valuable stuff they had on them and partly to take in the changed atmosphere of the place. Their weapons were about the same as ours but they thankfully had a few magazines of ammo and extra stashers to spare for us since they were done using them. I didn't find a grenade on any one of them, though I'd probably start running if I did unless I'd want it to blow up in my face.
"Todd!" Megan called me from the platform; apparently she must have made another discovery.
I made my way over to her to find her standing next to the body of Andy, his lifeless body slumped over the bench.
"Oh, it's Andy," I muttered. My reasoning proved correct this time; he was definitely killed by the grenade explosion, probably from just the force of the explosion. I don't know how he could've moved out of the way fast enough. Yep, radiation sucks, so to speak.
"Todd, you've got to be serious!" Megan irritatingly said as I began searching his corpse. I didn't anything too terribly useful money or ammo-wise, just a short note and holotag, probably something to use to our advantage when we reached the next station. I can't believe she still has distaste for me looting bodies, especially this one when we knew him only for a short period of time.
"Ouch," Megan suddenly gritted her teeth a bit as she clutched her shoulder.
"You okay?" I asked, suddenly cutting short my looting spree. "Are you hit?"
"Just got bruised and scratched up a bit. You don't need to waste a stimpack on me," Megan said, noticing that I was reaching for one.
I felt the same sensation throughout my body. "Damn, the adrenaline's wearing off…"
"You okay, Todd?" Megan worriedly asked me.
"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks," I said. I really wasn't in the mood to wasting another stimpack on myself either.
Our conversation was rudely interrupted by Oliver emerging at the other end of where we were standing, at the top of an escalator leading to an upper platform. "AAARRRGHHH!!! GODDAMMIT, WHY WON'T YOU DIE!?!" he moaned, so blinded by disparity he just started shooting randomly. What happened to that sniper and his unbelievable accuracy I first encountered coming here? It was probably all a fluke, maybe it was the guy with the bowler that did all the shooting, and him all the posing.
I raised my rifle and was ready to go into VATS when Megan rested her hand on my shoulder. "Let me do it," she assured me. "I know you're tired."
So I did. I saw Megan stand there unloading the Garand at Oliver with VATS. Maybe it was just me, but I saw him fall down the frozen escalator in a bizarrely slow motion, like I was in VATS. Either way, it was semi-sweet ending to our time in this place, not that I cared too much about it, only that it was part of a metro line that could lead me somewhere. The Garand's clip pinged as it ejected from the rifle, it's high pitch ringing throughout the station as it hit the ground.
"Beautiful shot, Megan," I commented, raising my left hand up for a high-five.
"Thanks," Megan high-fived me back.
As we both made our way to the end of the platform and past Oliver's body, I think I realized why his apron was brown was not from cooking anything except the ones that moved the most, talked the most, hell, even thought the most. Another one bit the dust, or rather the concrete one. Before I was ready to move on to the next station, I noticed a computer on a table at the top and climbed up the escalator to get there. It was really strange. Confident that I wasn't going to be killed while browsing, I sat down and turned it on.
Welcome back fatass! Here's the thing you were looking at if you can't remember…
"Wow. this computer has a weird sense of humor," Megan looked over. I wasn't particularly fazed by that. I was more surprised at the lack of a password.
Sonoflib doc
So what were the Sons of Liberty? A bunch of lies, misguided punks, and hypocrites, is what they are. They are better off disappearing from this wasteland. I hate them so; they'd make a perfect delicacy…
I didn't care about reading it all at that moment so I downloaded it to my PIP-BOY for future reference. More than likely though, it'd be used as a convenient barganing chip. Holding down the 'Escape' key for a few seconds, I found myself at the main menu. Nothing really caught my eye except for the last option…
Tesla Oscillator (Earthquake Machine)…
Wow. An earthquake machine! Now I've seen everything!
Tesla Oscillator detected, attached to column King Ten. Frequency resonance controls disabled, unable to control or stop oscillations once in motion. Shutdown and disabling procedures still operational. Constructing approximate simulation and formulating recommendation…
Can't stop it, huh? Makes things a lot more interesting.
Simulation predicts uncontrolled complete structural failure via pancake collapse starting with the upper floors of the parking garage due to material deficiency. Collapse would likely destroy sensitive electrical equipment and gas lines, fire imminent.
SET FREQUENCY (HZ): UNKNOWN
SET TIMER DELAY: UNKNOWN
RECOMMENDED SAFE DISTANCE FOR UNCONTROLLED DEMOLITION: UNKNOWN
CASUALTY ESTIMATES: HIGH
Console recommends DISABLING of Tesla Oscillator due to high collapse and fire risk…
It flickered to another screen.
Loading commands…
Please select command…
WARNING: ONCE SELECTED, OPERATION CANNOT BE RECALLED
ACTIVATE TESLA OSCILLATOR: OPERATIONAL
RESONANCE FREQUENCY CONTROL: DISABLED, SET FREQUENCY
OSCILLATOR DURATION CONTROL: NOT OPERATIONAL
DISABLE TESLA OSCILLATOR: ERROR 403 FORBIDDEN
INITIATE SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE: OPERATIONAL
What should I choose? All of them seem so tantalizing.
TO BE CONTINUED…
A/N: Just a Public Service announcement.
Hey there children, time for me to give you a lesson about radiation measurement!
In our world, rad measured the absorbed dose of radiation, meaning that while it indicates a given quantity of radiation, it does little to take into account the biological effect it has on a particular organisms, such as humans. The rad has been effectively replaced by the gray (Gy) which 100 rad equals 1 gray. The continued use of rad is "strongly discouraged" by the U.S. National Institute of Standards and Technology. In short, absorbed dose measures the amount of radiation it gives off, not amount of biological damage it causes. There are three types of radioactive particles, alpha, beta, and gamma, each with their own varying amounts of strengths.
What should have been used is REM, which is more applicable in talking about risks form radioactive sources (and poisoning from them). Note that REM attempts to gauge the biological effects of radiation that would be measured in rad outside the human body. Again this unit has been replaced by the Sievert (Sv) which 100 REM equals 1 Sievert and that the continued use of this unit is strongly discouraged by the NIST, even though REM is still in fairly common use throughout the US.
To summarize, rad (or gray) would be used for the amount of radiation, REM (or Sv) would be used for the severity of anything that involves living things being exposed to radiation. For the sake of simplicity and continuity in relation to the Fallout universe, I will be measuring radiation emitted, exposure, and radiation poisoning in rads and REMs, not in grays and Sieverts.
Unlike Fallout's science fiction rules of radiation, radiation in our world probably won't produce giant scorpions or zombies that can survive for 200 years and be healed by radiation. Get exposed to massive amounts of radiation here, and you'd die in a short amount of time. Obviously, that wouldn't make a very interesting story.
Fallout 3 uses this system:
0-199 No effect
200-399 Minor Radiation Poisoning
400-599 Advanced Radiation Poisoning
600-799 Critical Radiation Poisoning
800-999 Deadly Radiation Poisoning
1000+ Fatal Radiation Poisoning
Obviously, this doesn't mean anything taken out of context and the real world isn't so forgiving compared to a video game (seriously Bethesda, SPECIAL points?), so I tried devising a more realistic system (please feel free to use it if you want).
Here's my take on it:
0-50 REM - No noticeable symptoms, no one would notice a thing, except for their PIP-BOY's
50-100 REM - Mild radiation poisoning. Headaches and increased risk of infection.
100-200 REM - Light radiation poisoning. Same with symptoms above. Nausea and vomiting may occur at the beginning while fatigue and illness may set in. Temporary male sterility. (Todd was right.). If Megan was pregnant, a miscarriage would occur.
200-300 REM - Moderate radiation poisoning. Same with symptoms above. Nausea and vomiting will occur. Introduction of latent phase, which would include hair loss, weakness, bad-flu like symptoms, an increased chance of infection and poor wound healing. Can take one to several months to treat without regular doses of Radaway. (Andy would have been placed here.)
300-400 REM - Severe radiation poisoning. Same with symptoms above. Adding uncontrollable bleeding in mouth, under skin, and in kidneys.
400-600 REM - Critical radiation poisoning. Same with symptoms above, except with greater intensity. Dizziness and disorientation may occur. Can take several months to a year to treat without some very powerful medicine. Death possible from infection or internal bleeding. Sterility common. Ghoul like appearance may start to occur including peeling and ulcers on skin, voice changes, and lapses in mental function.
600-1000 REM - Fatal Radiation Poisoning. Same with symptoms above. At higher levels bone marrow transplant would be required, intestinal systems would be severely damaged. Really, I don't see anyone getting bone marrow transplants or organ system surgeries in the wasteland, so I'd say near certain death at 800 or above REMs. Recovery or treatment could take years, decades, or could never be complete.
1000+ REM - Feral Ghoulification? Trogification? Either way, it doesn't look good. Brain function breaks down. If anyone doesn't turn into a ghoul or trog at this stage, they'd be dead in a short period of time.
2000+ REM - Super mutant stage?
Morbid Disclaimer: This scale is for entertainment purposes only! In no way should this scale I came up via a dangerous mix of my imagination and real world research from wikipedia and The Mayo Clinic be used for diagnosing real world cases of radiation poisoning, God forbid! This type of advanced knowledge is best left to the experts who know precisely how to use it! I'm just an author. I take absolutely no responsibility in your lapse of judgment. You have been warned!
Of course, unlike the real world, Fallout science is better than ours for the recovery from and staving off radiological catastrophes. So that's it from me, are there any questions?