The door was shut behind us. The screeching of steel ceased and gave way to the chilling howls of the wind, deafening, like ghostly whispers flooding our ears. The night was pitch black too as the moon was hidden behind dense clouds rolling in. With each breath of wind, my skin tingled, and my cheeks felt like they were being pricked. I was frozen, scared stiff. Peering into the darkness, I tried to make out anything recognizable, something that could reconnect me with reality, but all I could see was a dark void, and I dared not move, fearing that the void may swallow me whole.

"Nate. We have to go," Sarah finally said as she turned on her Pip-Boy's light. "The settlement is south of here, right?" She looked down at her Pip-Boy. "So, we have to go that way," she said looking up and pointing back towards the direction of the vault. My eyes started to adjust to the darkness, and I could somewhat make out our surroundings. We were on top of a hill, and in front of us was the slim river that separated Manhattan from the Bronx. To our left was a bridge crossing the Hudson River, and to the right was the ruins of a neighborhood. Sarah's voice brought me back to reality, and when I took her hand, I found the strength in my legs to get moving. But as soon as we were about to circle around the hill, we heard something coming from the direction of the bridge.

We froze again and listened closely, trying to figure out if it was only the wind. But this howling was different; it wasn't as subtle as the ghostly whispers. At first it growled like an animal but screamed like a human. Then we realized it was more than one, and they were coming towards us. I tightened my grip on Sarah's hand and we bolted. We circled around the hill until we were nearest to the buildings. The hill got much steeper, but we were forced to descend, sliding and nearly tumbling down the loose rocks. We could still hear them with their ungodly roars, and we could hear them tumble down the hill. There was another hill directly south of the one we came separated from the other by a single road. We ran towards it but were stopped in our tracks when we could hear the same howls coming from that direction. Sarah started to lead the way, pulling me back towards the neighborhood. I could hear the two groups behind us form into one. Their many feet slapping against the pavement as they chased us. "In there!" Sarah said, pointing to the nearest building. It was a dilapidated three stories with each floor slowly falling on the one below it. But the doors were missing so it was easy to get in.

Trusting her judgement, I followed her in. We bounded up the steps in front of the door until we couldn't go any higher. We could hear them below us crashing into each other as they all tried to fit through the doorway. Then we could hear them slamming into the walls as they pushed each other up the stairs. Sarah ran to the nearest room with its door open and I followed behind her. When we passed through, we both tripped on a pile of rubble in front of the door. If it hadn't been for that rubble though, we would've fallen back to the bottom of the building. There was only about a third of that room left standing. The rest had collapsed along with most of the ceiling. I quickly got up from the rubble to shut the door, but I could only move it so much. I tried with all my might to shut it before Sarah pulled me away from the door just as they were coming up the last flight of stairs. We scurried back behind a taller pile of debris near the edge of the floor. Our feet dangled over the edge as we pressed our bodies to it. I could hear them as they reached our floor and were dispersing to search every room. I pulled out my pistol just as one of them barged through the half open door. It wasn't as lucky as us, tripping over the rubble so hard that it tumbled past us, down the three stories until it hit the ground below.

There was another behind that one though, who entered the room slowly. It looked around what remained of the room and stood there for a few minutes unmoving. Sarah and I held our breath and clung tightly to each other. I didn't even want to blink out of fear that the slightest movement would turn it on to us. Finally, it left. The howls and the banging of the others as they ransacked the building stopped. An eerie silence fell over the night, and it stayed that way. We were still too afraid to move from that spot behind the pile. All night, we laid there shaking and pouting, trying our best to comfort the other, even though we were just as scared. We didn't sleep at all; every time our eyes grew heavy, or we started to relax, a noise from somewhere in the building would set us back.

Morning finally came. I looked up for the first time and cast my eyes over the ruined neighborhood around us. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but burnt out and dilapidated buildings made more depressing by the sulking bluish hue of the early morning light. I don't know if it was because my eyes burned from being tired, or maybe it was the shock of such a sight, but my eyes began to water. I looked down at Sarah, whose eyes still stared widely down at the rubble. "Sarah," I whispered, "we have to go." She didn't respond. "Come on Sarah, we just have to get up that hill," I said pointing over to it. "It's not far. We just have to be quiet." I then looked down to the street for any of those creatures and saw nothing there. Whatever chased us the night before didn't seem to like being out during the day. "Please Sarah, we can't stay here, and I can't do this without you. You have to get up."

She finally looked up at me, "I'm so scared Nate."

"I am too. But we have to go. I'll be right here with you," I said reaching for her hand. She took it and I helped her up. As carefully as possible, we climbed back over the pile of rubble. When we got to the door, I first gave a listen for anything nearby before sticking my head out to check the hallway. I didn't see anything, so we moved stealthily to the stairs and made our way down. When we got down to the second floor, we froze. In one of the rooms near the stairs, we could hear them. At least two of them were having some kind of back and forth growling at each other. When we heard them start to fight, we used the noise to keep moving down. We reached the bottom floor where we could hear more of them. They must not have left since last night. We could hear growls coming from the basement below us and down the hall. The door was right in front of us, but I feared crossing the hall to get to it. I took out the pistol again and motioned for Sarah to back up from me. I took a deep breath, then peered down the hallway. I could see them; humanoid figures shuffling around in the dark at the other end of the hall. They didn't notice me, so I grabbed Sarah's hand and we hurried through the door.

As much as we were in a hurry to get out of there, we didn't run to the hill, out of fear of being heard. We walked at a brisk pace, but once we got there, we scrambled up that steep slope. It was difficult because so much of the hill was made of loose dirt and soil. A few dead trees were dotted here and there. We used them like checkpoints, exerting our energy to push off the dirt till we could grab hold of a root or the trunk. Every now and then we'd look back to see if any of those things had emerged from the buildings. It was a tough climb, but we made it to the top.

Sarah scrambled up and looked at the surrounding area before turning back to give me a hand. Before us was an empty parking lot and on the other side was the sparse remains of what looked to be some kind of stone building. Like in the pictures of ancient Greek and Roman ruins from our old history books, all that remained of the structure were scattered stones giving a vague impression of where the walls use to be and some piles of rubble. But more importantly to us was what stood past the ruins on top of a gentle ridge; an imposing jagged wall made of random material, metal sheets, chain fencing, wooden boards and including the stone from that very ruin.

"That's it," I said grabbing Sarah by the hand. "That must be the settlement." We ran towards the wall with great relief.

"Halt!" shouted someone from atop the wall. "Don't step any closer!"

It was hard to see them as their guard post blended in so well with the wall, but after scanning the top of the fortification, I could see a man standing in the shadow of a metal canopy pointing his rifle down at us. "Please sir. We don't mean any trouble. We were told this was a safe place to come."

"There's things out here chasing us," Sarah added.

He lowered his rifle and stared at us for a moment. "Your jumpsuits… Are you from the vault?" We nodded. He gestured to his right. "Go around to the front."

We thanked him and hurried around the settlement. As we went, I kept my eye on the top of the wall where I could see people looking down at us. There was a paved path to the front side that brought us under a stone bridge. The bridge connected the imposing junk fortress to an actual stone fort reinforced with more junk. A metal wall with gun ports cut in lined the side of the bridge. We could see more observers watching from the ports.

When we made it to the front gate, the reception was even more cautious than before. Several people had their guns trained on us. "Your packs and your weapons on the ground," a buff bald man ordered. We obeyed. "Alright, hands high for us all to see. Make one move and you're dead, understand? What are you doing here?"

"Can't you tell we're from the vault?" I spoke. "We came here to get away from… those things." As if on cue, a roar came out from the ruins far behind us. "Please, they'll kill us."

"Relax, they ain't gonna get ya." Then the gate opened up and more guards came out. They walked towards us with their guns up and started patting us down. "Besides the suits, how else can you prove to us that you're from the vault?"

"Are you serious? Who else would we be?"

"Raiders," he answered curtly. "For all we know, you could've killed the real vault dwellers and taken those suits from them. Or maybe someone sold them to you."

One of the guards started going through our packs. "Hey! That's our stuff!" I shouted at him. That made the others nervous; they put their guns up and put their fingers on their triggers. I froze in terror of what may come next.

"Easy guys," the bald man said. "Anything of interest in those?" he asked the guard rifling through our bags.

"I got a knife in this one," he said pulling the combat knife from Sarah's pack. "That's it."

"Oh, would you knock it off you idiots!" Suddenly a tough looking woman with dark red hair appeared next to the bald man.

He was noticeably surprised and even nervous of her. "Cherry!? I—uh—you're not even on guard duty—"

"For Christ's sake Vigo, anyone with half a brain can tell they're the real deal. Just look at them. Only vault dwellers could look that wide eyed and scared shitless. Lower your guns and let them through."

Just like that, the guards backed off and gave us back our stuff. They even let us keep our weapons. We walked with them through the gates, and as it closed behind us, we could see that woman standing confidently with a welcoming smile waiting for us. She stretched her arms out proudly to show off the town around us.

Behind her was the open center of the settlement where a bonfire pit lay surrounded by tables and benches. Behind that, closer to the wall was a small garden. All along the walls of the settlement were shacks of different shapes and sizes made of all manner of scrap material just like the wall. Not only did they line the walls, but they were also built on top of each other, stacking all the way to the brim of the fortifications. Walkways, staircases and ladders connected them to one another and made the harder to reach places accessible. Interspersed between some shacks were gutted out vehicles and trailers with curtains that must have also served as housing too. Most impressively, near the brim of this bowl-like town to our right was a whole school bus. In one corner of the settlement sat a crane truck; that must've been how they were able to achieve such structures. Electrical wires and lights were hung up everywhere, stapled to the walls and raised up by poles; they were connected to a hulking groaning generator near the gate as well as makeshift wind turbines on the tops of the highest shacks. Crudely made signs were posted in front of certain shacks to signify that they were a clinic, general store, mechanic, inn, or bar.

Sarah and I's heads swiveled at this rough patch marvel of engineering that surrounded us, our mouths agape in amazement. The woman beamed with pride as she approached. "Pretty cool isn't it." She stretched her arms out again like a showman revealing some grand act. "Welcome to Hell's Gate!"

Now that we were up close, I got a good look at the woman who helped us through the gates. She was as rough looking as the town. Her red hair was shaggy and unwashed. She had a beautiful pale face with lips as red as her hair. Her attire was imposing and akin to the town in that it was a hodgepodge of materials put together. Her dirty cargo pants were covered with patches of entirely unrelated fabrics. Her coat was a collection of thick dark rags of various materials noticeably stitched together. On top of all this was a set of armor made up of different sports equipment. Knee and elbow guards from hockey, a catcher's vest from baseball, and shoulder pads from football.

"You guys look like Hell ran you over," she joked. "Sorry about Vigo, he can take his job too serious sometimes." She looked behind us at one particular shack that was unique from the rest. It was two stories and disconnected from the rest of the collection. "Ooh, I should take you to see Chief. He can help you guys get settled in, and I'm sure he'll want to talk to you."

As we looked around the town, it was clear that this Chief wasn't the only person who wanted to talk to us. The whole town was staring at us with curiosity and amazement. I heard people murmuring about us all around. Without exchanging any words, we followed the woman as she barged into the shack. "Chief! Chief! I brought you something."

We were in a living room. At the other end was a staircase and to the right and left of that were other rooms. An old woman came out of the left room. "Oh Cherry, you know we told you not to just walk in like that."

"Sorry Mammy but this is important. Chief!?" She walked away, disappearing into the room on the right while we stood awkwardly at the door. The old woman's eyes were glued to us with surprise. "There you are!" we could hear the woman in the other room.

"Dammit Cherry, I thought I told you not to—"

"Yeah yeah, I know, but just come into the living room would ya."

There was a sigh and we could hear the squeaking of a chair as someone got up from it. The woman reappeared with an old man. He was healthy for his age with long grey hair and a thick gray beard. Wrinkles circled around his but otherwise his face did not give away just how old he was. He grumbled something under his breath but when he saw us his eyes widened and his body stiffened. "Do my eyes deceive me?" He gave a lighthearted chuckle as he moved towards a big cushiony chair at the center of the room. He gestured for us to sit on the couch across the coffee table from him. "Please sit. We have much to discuss. Mammy, could you please get our guests some refreshments," he said turning to the old woman. He looked back at us, "they look like they could use some."

She went back into the room on the left. After that, the red-headed woman said she would leave us to it and that she'd be back later. "That Cherry sure has a fire in her doesn't she," the old man said watching the door close. "Lucky for her, if she hadn't brought you two in, I would've chased her out of here with something blunt… My name is Harold but everyone around here calls me Chief. The lady in the kitchen is my wife Lillian, but everyone calls her Mammy. And you? What are your names?"

Sarah spoke first. "My name's Sarah Huntley. It's nice to meet you."

"Nathan Peterman," I finally spoke.

His eyes widened once again. "Well ain't this something, haha." He leaned towards us and pointed at me. "You, I knew your parents."

"You knew my parents!?"

"The whole town knew your parents. Their names are etched in the hearts of every person here. They were the ties that bound our community to yours, and we're forever indebted to the people of Vault 123 because of them. Every person here is better off because of the support your vault gave us."

Suddenly, two dark shadows were cast over the conversation as the fate of my parents and my vault came back to me. I looked down at my hands, "so, you know what happened to them then don't you."

A frown spread across Chief's face. "This community has lost many people over the years, but few hit us as hard as your parents'. They had been coming here since they were teenagers; members of our collective family just like anyone else. After seeing them grow up and do as much as they did for us, it was devastating to lose them."

I knew they were dead for two years, but I guess a part of me still believed they might have been alive, or at least wanted to believe that. But after hearing Chief tell me definitively what I already knew that small part that believed was gone, and it felt like that day they never came back all over again. I grew silent and I could feel Sarah's hand on my shoulder. Mammy, who had been standing by the kitchen doorway, came over with a tray of snacks and some tea.

She set the tray on the coffee table. "They were good people. They spoke with so much love for you so often. I know they were proud of you."

Memories of them, of the last time I saw them played in my head. Their shadows standing over me as I laid in bed. The anger I felt. The refusal to turn and face them even as they told me they loved me. There was a stabbing sensation in my heart. I looked down at the floor. Chief and Sarah continued to talk.

"So, if you two are out here, does that mean the vault has reopened?"

Sarah hung her head, "no. It only opened for us."

"Why?" Chief asked with deep concern.

"We didn't exactly come out here of our own will. We were forced to leave to save our lives… The vault has broken out into a civil war. The Overseer has been at odds with our families for years, so when the violence broke out, he took the opportunity to deal with his political opponents."

Chief and Mammy looked devastated. "That is… unfortunate," he said. "I… I recall your parents telling me that not all was well in the vault two years ago. I knew there were serious divides, but I never thought it would come to war. We wastelanders are almost in constant conflict, but we imagine the vaults to be more civilized than us. I guess nobody is above it."

"Are you sure you two were the only ones that made it out?" Mammy asked.

"I'm sure," Sarah said. "And I don't know if there will be anyone else. They seemed pretty adamant to keep us in when we escaped."

"Well, I'm sure I speak for all of us here that I hope everything turns out alright for your vault. And if any other refugees emerge from there, we'll try our best to care for them. I know not everyone in your vault cares about us wastelanders, but we owe all of them for what's been done for us." Chief nodded in agreement.

Just then, Cherry came back in. "How's it going in here?"

"Unfortunately, it's not a happy reunion." Chief replied. "We've all received some sad news."

"Oh…"

"I'll tell everyone what's happened later." He looked Sarah and I in the eyes. "When did you two leave the vault?"

"Last night," Sarah said.

"Well it looks like you haven't slept since then. You two have had a rough 24 hours no doubt." He stood up and walked over to Cherry, "come on, let's get a room ready for them to rest in. You two stay here and eat. We'll come back for you when the room is ready."

After they left, we started picking up the assortment of snacks on the tray. Crackers, hard biscuits, cheese, Fancy Lad Snack Cakes, and some kind of crab cake. We ate silently and awkwardly while Mammy disappeared into the kitchen again. She came back a few minutes later with a bucket of water and a washcloth. She set them next to me. "Here you go. Use that to wash the blood off you."

"Blood?" I hadn't realized till then that I had dried blood on one side of my face and on some of my jumpsuit. It was even on my hands, but I somehow didn't notice that till then neither. I remembered then the pools of blood in that intersection back at the vault where I fell down. The one where I saw Joe. The images flashed in my mind and I winced at the thought. How odd I realized that nobody had told me till now that I had blood on me. Maybe Sarah was in too much shock to notice, and maybe the wastelanders with their lack of cleanliness paid no mind to the red griminess on my face.

While Sarah and Mammy continued to snack and chat, I stared blankly at my hands as I squeezed red water over them and into the bucket. The water poured down as if in slow motion, and it felt like no matter how much I scrubbed my hands, the blood would not come off. Images kept flashing in my head: bodies lining the vault hallways, the gore of residents shot or beaten strewn everywhere, people being mowed down as they ran into the atrium, the empty eyes of Joe Dandre staring at me, and finally, the look on Allen Denglar's face as he fell to the ground. I felt like I was about to burst, but before that could happen, the front door opened again, and Chief told us the room was ready.

We followed him and Cherry across the courtyard. On the ground floor of the stacks of shacks, they opened up a metal door to reveal a small room. It fit two beds, a chair between them, and a small iron stove by the door. A lamp stood on a shelf screwed to the wall and a rug between the beds was the only thing somewhat covering the solid concrete floor. Hardly a cozy home with its sparseness, its concrete floor and thin metal walls.

"You two can rest here," said Chief. "Cherry will come back in a few hours to wake you up and show you around. If you want to start a fire, we left everything you need by the stove. Rest easy."

After they closed the door, Sarah and I picked our beds immediately and laid down. I could hear commotion from outside, people moving around and talking on the other side of the inner wall and above us. But in our dark cold little hovel, we laid there in silence. I turned to face the wall, so I didn't know if Sarah had fallen asleep. I was too afraid to roll over and check. I was torn between how Sarah should perceive me and how I actually felt. I was so tired, but I couldn't sleep with all that was going through my head. I stared up at the wall in front of me, flashing back to the time when I did the same thing in my room. My parents' shadows hung over me again. I was scared, angry, and deeply confused.

But I thought I couldn't share this with Sarah. One of us had to be brave for the other; be the one to stay calm. Seeing her the way she was earlier that morning convinced me that that person had to be me. I didn't even want to risk showing her that I couldn't sleep. Maybe if she thought I could, it would calm her enough to sleep too. Then again, since we had passed the gates, it seemed like she had kept herself together better than me. That thought actually worried me more; if she could put herself together so well, while I suffered in silence, what did that mean about my own mental stability? Maybe it was I that really needed help?

It felt like I lied there staring at the wall in agony for hours, but as soon as I finally began to drift off to sleep, the door opened and Cherry walked in. "Alright sleepy heads, time to get up. We've got places to go and people to see." As I sat up in my bed, my whole body felt stiff. I stretched and rubbed my burning eyes as I looked across at Sarah. She didn't look any better, and she was noticeably just as annoyed as me. We finally summoned the will to get up and followed Cherry outside.

"Alright," Cherry said as we came out. "I've taken it upon myself to show you guys around our lovely little community. But first, allow me to properly introduce myself. I'm Shannon Collins, but you can call me Cherry. Everyone calls me Cherry because of my hair. Any Questions before we begin the tour?"

Sarah and I looked at each other incredulously. This woman was way too energetic for our current mood. "What happened to all that stuff you were wearing earlier?" Sarah finally asked. I just then realized that Cherry didn't have all her armor on or that raggedy coat. Her Cargo pants were still on but all she had left was a tight midriff leather top that pushed her cleavage up. I looked away embarrassed by how much I was staring but thankfully neither of them noticed.

"Oh, all that ugly stuff. I only wear all that when I leave the walls. Ah, and the weather is still so nice and warm," she added with an exaggerated stretch.

"Do you leave the walls often?" I asked.

"It's my job to leave the walls. I'm a scavenger after all."

"You really leave the walls every day?" Sarah asked with surprise.

Cherry beamed with pride. "Most days I do. It's tough dangerous work to scavenge, but it's what Hell's Gate lives on, and I'm one of the best."

"Why do you call it Hell's Gate?"

She giggled at our ignorance. "I guess you guys really don't know much about the Empire Wasteland, huh. It's called Hell's Gate because if you go anywhere south of here, you might as well be going to Hell. What's left of Manhattan is filled with all kinds of mutants and raiders. If the ants, mirelurks, scorpions, feral dogs, ghouls, deathclaws and pigeons don't get you, the raider gangs will."

Did she say pigeons?

"So there are people that live in Manhattan then if there's raiders," Sarah said.

"Psh, barely people. They're blood hungry savages. When they're not getting high or eating each other, they're going to war. Manhattan's been in a perpetual state of war since the radiation died down enough for people to set up a home in those skyscrapers."

"We've seen big rats and cockroaches in the vault, but I've never heard of the creatures you just mentioned," I said. "And did you say pigeons? Like the little birds that ate trash before the war?"

"Ha, we eat those oversized rats and roaches for breakfast—literally. But yeah, pigeons are bad news. The only thing worse than a deathclaw in the Empire Wasteland is a pigeon." Sarah and I were silent with disbelief. Cherry must have taken that to mean we were done with questions.

"Okay, let's get on with the tour." She turned around to face Chief's house. "First, this is the old folk's home. Chief and Mammy live here with the other geezers. Those two are all that remain of the small group of daring scavengers that founded Hell's Gate. They were the first group in the Empire Wasteland with the brains and the braun to realize that if a settlement could be established in Manhattan, they could make a lot of caps by shipping material and other treasures up the Hudson to other settlements. It took a while to get settled, but they did it, and now you have Hell's Gate in its current glory."

She then turned to the west end of the settlement Where a long shack hugged the wall at its base. In the front of the shack was a glowing neon red cross. "That right there is the clinic. We have two doctors that live in the shacks right above it so they're always around when you need them. Let's go say hi."

We followed her inside and were met by a woman sitting at a desk while she typed away on a terminal in what looked like a waiting room. Past the desk was an opened curtain revealing a line of beds. I could see someone fast asleep in one of them. The woman had the appearance of a doctor just like what I'd expect in the vault. She looked rather studious and intellectual as she pecked away on the terminal with her black-rimmed glasses and her blonde hair tied back. She Even had a doctor's coat on and a stethoscope around her neck. "Hello Cass," Cherry greeted as she rested her hands on the top of the terminal. "Have you heard about the new people in town."

The woman looked up from her terminal annoyed, but her demeanor quickly changed when she saw us. "Why everyone in town has heard of the vault dwellers by now." She shot up from her seat and nudged Cherry aside to shake our hands. "Dr. Casandra Day. It's so nice to meet you. Hopefully you're not here because you require my services."

"I'm just showing them around," Cherry answered with a scowling look at Dr. Day.

The doctor paid no mind to her dirty looks though. "That's good. It's so nice to meet you two. I thought I knew everything I needed to know about medicine before your parents brought that medical textbook. Dr. Leonard says he doesn't need any fancy book learning to do his job but I've caught him checking the pages a few times." A doctor who doesn't want to read a medical textbook… hope I don't have to come here I thought as I shook her hand.

Cherry craned her head to see into the back room, "how's Pete doing?"

Just then an older man came from the room. His jowly long face made him look grumpy. "He'll live, I think. Lucky none of his organs were punctured. We cleansed the poison and sewed up the wound. Now he's just gotta fight through a fever."

"He was stabbed by a radscorpion," Cherry told us.

"And who might these two be," Dr. Leonard asked coming to shake our hands.

"This is Nathan and Sarah," Cherry said. "They're from the vault. Haven't you heard?"

"Well I'll be damned," he said shaking our hands. "I've been upstairs all day. Haven't heard a thing. How come you didn't tell me," He asked Day.

"You always tell me that unless someone's dying, don't bother you in your home."

"Oh yeah. By the way, unless you two are dying, don't come in here for nothin'," he said. I couldn't tell if it was a joke. "We can't afford regular checkups like in those fancy vaults. But I'll give you some Rad-X and Radaway. You'll need them out here."

Cherry chided him for being a grouch but we thanked him nonetheless when he actually went into the back and came back with some medicine for us. We said goodbye to the doctors and went back outside.

Once we were outside, Cherry pointed to the crane nearby. "That's our handy crane there. Fully functional and responsible for building a lot of what you see." She then pointed across town to the school bus. "That bus is where I live thanks to this old crane. Come by any time you like." She started walking towards the opposite end of the settlement. "I'll have to introduce you to Ralph if I see him. He's the one who got the crane working. Why if it weren't for Ralph, I don't think this place could function. He's our mechanic, our engineer, and our gardener."

"I was a mechanic in the vault," I said.

"Oh really, you should talk shop with him. Bet you could learn a lot. He's got 200 years of knowledge after all."

"Did you say 200?," Sarah asked.

Cherry started walking backwards to face us. "Yeah, I mean he is a…" a grin crept onto her face. "Well, you'll see."

She turned back around and led us to a building in the corner by the gate. The building was cut in half by a hall space in between two rooms with the left side appearing to be a bar with stools lined up along a counter and windows outside. Awnings that appeared to flip up from covering the windows shaded the people sitting at the counter. They were laughing over their food and drink while a speaker overhead played music. A wide pipe chimney billowed smoke on that side of the roof and the smoke carried the delicious smell of grilling meat. The other side of the building also had open windows but above the windows was a sign that read 'General Store'.

"This is the commissary and general store," Cherry said. "The commissary serves Lunch and dinner at certain times, but you can get some stew or a sandwich and a drink any time. They'll also have snacks and nonperishable foods behind the counter for you to take home. It's pretty slow right now but you should see it when they serve meals. The place is packed. When the weather isn't cold, they'll usually set up another kitchen around that fire pit there," she said pointing to it and the tables and chairs at the center of town. The whole town is there eating together under the lights and music. It's a lot of fun. You'll see later tonight."

"They don't serve breakfast?" Sarah asked.

"They might leave out some bread and tea in the morning but that's it. We don't have enough food for that. But hey, two meals a day is pretty good in this wasteland." She led us closer when suddenly a shot rang out from the top of the gate. Sarah and I ducked as our heads snapped towards the shot, but Cherry didn't even flinch. She turned around and giggled, "Something must've gotten too close to the gate. You'll get used to hearing that eventually." We straightened up but a look of concern must have stuck to our faces. "Don't worry," she assured us. "It's when you hear multiple shots that you start to worry. And even then, nothing's gotten past these walls in a long time."

Putting us at ease, we went inside. As soon as we stepped into the shadows, we heard someone call out to us inside the general store. There was Mammy looking up from a sewing machine on the end of a table covered in clothes. She beckoned for us to come in. Tables and shelves with an assortment of goods lined the edges of the room and a few sat in the center. In the corner to the left of the entrance was a woman smoking in a barber's chair as a lightbulb dangled overhead. She smiled at us and sat up in her seat as we entered. Over by the windows were two men in their own separate kiosks who watched us with fascination. Each one had their own registers and goods hanging on the walls behind them. On the windows sat counters for them to make transactions. However, one kiosk was surrounded by a mesh of chain link and chicken wire. A rectangle slot in the wire allowed money and goods to pass through. A locked door on the side was the only way in. Looking closer I understood why, because hanging from the fencing were guns and shelves stacked with ammunition.

"Nate and Sarah, I hope you had a restful sleep," Mammy said as she stood up from her machine.

We gave no response. "Well, I'm sure it's hard to sleep with all that's happened." She looked around at the other clerks. "Oh, allow me to introduce you. That's Debra," she said gesturing to the woman in the chair. "She's our barber. And that's Mark and Dave." We all exchanged hellos before they peppered us with questions.

"You have nice hair," Debra said. "Do you wash it every day in the vault? I had some real good product your parents brought but I used it all up."

"Well we don't wash it every day," Sarah said, "But regularly."

"You bring any weapons from the vault?" Dave asked from behind the gun kiosk. "I could never get a whole weapon but your parents brought some pristine parts and pretty good cleaning supplies."

"All I have is a 10mm," I said. "I left it in my room."

"Bah, I can find those anywhere. But maybe I could trade you something special for a weapon in that good of a condition."

"I bet everything in that vault is in pristine condition ain't in?" Mark said. "Look just like they would've before the war. Man, we use to get some really nice goods from there." He pointed to a half-painted Nuka-Cola truck on the counter. "I'm trying to fix up this toy truck, but it won't ever look as good as it used to."

Before they could ask us more questions, Cherry interrupted. "Hey guys, I'm trying to give them a tour here. You can pester them later tonight."

Mammy agreed and asked us if we had any questions ourselves. "Yeah," I said. "How do people pay for the stuff in here?"

"With bottle caps, or by trading. But if you're a resident of Hell's Gate, you don't pay anything. If you need something, you get it. If you want something, it's first come first serve. You can put your name on a list for an item and as soon as it's available, you get it. We encourage people to donate or return what they don't need or want anymore."

"Bottle caps?" Sarah said. "My dad gave me a bag of something he said would be valuable out here. I didn't look but it sounded like bottle caps. But if you guys don't use caps inside the walls, who else uses them? What do you do with them when you have them?"

Mammy chuckled, "why everyone uses caps. You'll see it when our friends up the river come down. And the occasional traveler can stop in with their own caps. But if a resident has caps on them, they put them in the community chest. If you need the caps for anything, you just ask the community and we all vote on whether to allow it."

"Life can be tough in this part of the Empire Wasteland," Cherry said. "We have to pull together resources if we want to survive." With that, she put her hands on our shoulders and turned us around to leave. "Let's keep it moving, shall we."

As we made our way back out into the courtyard, I looked over at the commissary. My eyes began to burn again as I remembered how tired I was. "Does the commissary serve coffee?" I asked.

"Coffee? What is that? some sort of vault thing?" Cherry replied.

The disappointment on Sarah and I's faces was noticeable. "I'll take that as a no," I said.

Cherry shrugged her shoulders and continued on, leading us to the center of town. She pointed to a fenced off lot in a space between shacks on the North wall. There were fruits and vegetables growing there, many of which were unfamiliar to me. "That there is our little community garden. We rely on the settlements up the river for most of our food, so we don't grow much. Looks like Ralph hasn't harvested everything yet."

"Where is this Ralph you keep mentioning?" Sarah asked.

"Ooh, I know where he is right now. Come on, I'll introduce you." We followed her to a gate on the east end. Beyond it was the stone bridge we had passed under on our way in. As we passed the commissary, the patrons' chatter quieted as we walked by. They couldn't help but stare at us. Everywhere in the settlement, our vault suits stood out against our surroundings. We began to cross the bridge, passing more townspeople who watched us as we went by. To keep my mind off their watchful eyes, I focused on the architecture around us. The sides of the bridge were built up higher with a hodgepodge of materials. Gunports were built into them every few feet. We crossed the bridge and came to another courtyard, this one built entirely by stone bricks, the top of the stone fort. Barricades and guard posts were set up along the edges of the courtyard. Within the courtyard were neatly divided sections. Across from where we were at the bridgeway and extending towards the half of the courtyard to our left was an area filled with scrap material being sorted into piles: wood, steel, other metals like copper or aluminum, scrap electronics, and another pile of miscellaneous junk. A collection of workstations under canopies sat nearby to the right where the materials were broken down, smelted or utilized in various projects. To the right of that were pens where two headed cows stood on dirt and straw laid over the stone. A canopy provided partial shade for them and their water trough. Carts were parked idle next to the pens, and to the right of those were large plastic tanks full of water. Cherry walked briskly across the courtyard while we observed the scene before us. Realizing that she had gone ahead, we hurried to catch up. Workers moving across the courtyard from section to section and station to station froze in place as we passed by. We caught up to Cherry as she went under the shade of a canopy where the workstations were. There stood someone in a fading green jumpsuit, their back turned to us as they worked diligently at their bench. "Ralph, there's some people I'd like you to meet," Cherry said to get their attention.

They turned to face us. Their skin was splotched with different shades of black and brown, bruises, scars, scabs and at best was only peeling in some spots. Even there the skin was leathery and wrinkled. Speckles of what remained of their eyebrows hung over their sunken beady eyes. Their lips were thin and chapped from dryness. Dark spots were also splotched across their bald head. Some of them from years of burning exposure to the sun and others, remnants of the person's hair follicles the resemblance to the humanoids that chased us crossed my mind. Sarah and I both instinctively jumped back in scared surprise. Cherry couldn't help but giggle while this person simply shook their head. Their voice was deep and croaky, "What's the matter smooth skin, you never seen a ghoul before?"

"Don't mind them," Cherry said trying to hold back her giggles. "As you can see, they're new around here."

He looked us up and down, "So these must be the vault dwellers I've been hearing about." He extended his hand for us to shake. It didn't look much better for wear than his face. He noticed our hesitation to take it. "Don't worry I won't give ya anything, I think."

Sarah took his hand first. "I'm sorry for our rudeness," she said as she took his hand. "We really haven't seen someone like you before."

This compelled me to shake his hand too. "Sorry, you just took us by surprise."

"It's okay," he said grasping my hand firmly. "I'm sure I'm an unusual sight for someone who's lived underground their whole life."

"We were attacked by some people last night that had… your kind of features," I tried to explain sheepishly.

Him and Cherry chuckled. "Ferals?" he asked. "No need to be polite about them, kid. They ain't people no more. I ain't like them… yet." Sarah and I raised our eyebrows at that. He watched our expressions change with a laugh. "I'm just kidding."

Cherry chimed in. "I was just showing Sarah and Nathan here around town and mentioned how you were our jack of all trades."

Ralph smiled, "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Cherry said that you have 200 years of knowledge," I mentioned. "What does that mean?"

His eyes looked up and away like he was trying to recall something. "Hmm, has it really been that long? I stopped thinking about it. More than 200 really."

"You're quite the joker Mr. Ralph," Sarah said.

"It's no joke," Cherry replied. "Ralph is actually over 200 years old."

Our eyes widened in disbelief. "How is that possible?" I asked. "Wait a minute, does that mean you were alive before the war?"

"Which one?" he said. "Oh, you mean the big one. Yeah, I was there."

My mind was so alight with questions that I short circuited, stuttering and stammering as I tried to let one out. But Sarah beat me to it. "How are you still alive?" She asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Some wit and a whole lot of luck. But if you mean 'why ain't I a shriveled old man'—" he pauses to consider his worn skin. "Well, more shriveled—I guess it has something to do with radiation. But I'm no scientist."

"That's amazing!" Sarah exclaimed with stars in her eyes. "You're a real-life Rip VanWinkle!" But there was no one more star struck than I, still overwhelmed by questions racing through my mind to articulate any of them.

"Who's Rip VanWinkle?" Cherry asked. "Anyway Ralph, I just wanted to introduce you. I'm sure they'll have lots of questions for later. On with the tour," she said taking us by the hand and leading us back across the courtyard. As she pulled me away, I continued to look back at Ralph dumbstruck. He watched us walk away for a moment before waving and turning back to his work.

As we headed back to the bridge, Cherry spoke up again. "Back in the day this fort was where the original settlers of Hell's Gate lived. Mammy and Chief could tell you more about that time."

"Was Ralph here back then, too?"

"No, he came a few years after the settlement was secured. I guess he used to be quite the traveler in those days. We're pretty fortunate he decided to stick around."

We made our way back across the bridge. As I looked towards the center of town, I could see people working around the fire pit and tables in preparation for dinner. As we passed the kitchen, someone called out to us from the other side of the lunch counter. We turned our heads to see a cook waving us over. He wiped his hands on his apron and pushed a sweat drenched rag he had tied over his head up to his black hairline. "Whatchya havin' vault dwelluhs," he said. His voice thick with the old New York accent. I was pleasantly surprised to hear that it survived all these years. "I got Nukas. I got beer. Lil' homemade shine."

"Coffee?" I asked as I approached the counter.

"Nah, I don't know what dat is. Dat some kind of vault thing?"

"That's what I said too," Cherry said as she came up behind me. Her and Sarah took a seat on the stools to my left and right.

"Something that will help us wake up?" Sarah asked.

He smiled mischievously. "Okay I know whatchya need." He bent down to grab something under the counter and came back up with a jug. "Boom! Whiskey, fresh out the still this morning. I could put a little processed radscorp juice for some extra kick. If ya feelin' adventurous."

"Uh, I was thinking something a little more…tame. Actually, a lot tamer."

With a slight disappointed frown, he pulled out two bottles of soda. "Couple a Nuka-Colas for ya then." He took the tops off and handed them to us before pouring two shots of the whiskey. He handed one to Cherry and raised his glass. "What are ya names?" he asked us.

"I'm Nathan."

"Sarah."

"My name's Anthony. Pleasure to meet ya. A salud!" We clinked glasses. Cherry and Anthony threw back their shots.

Cherry's face scrunched up and her cheeks turned red before she let out a "haahwoo!" She slammed her glass on the table. "That's a strong batch!"

Sarah and I shared looks of amusement as we tilted our bottles to our mouths. After a few swigs, I set the bottle on the counter to feel the caffeine rush through my tired body. Peering into the kitchen I saw a Mr. Handy floating from stove top to prep table. Nearby, a protectron stood at a single station slowly stirring a pot. Anthony noticed me staring, "Oh yeah, thems my helpers. That one's Chesterton," he said pointing at the Mr. Handy. "And that one's L-U-K-4-5. We call him Lukas. Yeah, I got em' cookin' up a storm for tonight's party."

"Party?" I replied.

"Well yeah," he said with amusement. "Ain't too often nowadays that we get visitors from the vault. And we know how to show guests a good time here at Hell's Gate. Say, what you guys doin' up here anyways? This like a diplomatic mission or somethin'?"

Sarah and I were sullen. "You don't know yet?" Sarah said.

Anthony stared in confusion before Cherry interjected. "Chief will explain everything at the party tonight."

Anthony simply shrugged his shoulders and returned to work. Sarah and I grew more crestfallen, our minds returning to our home as we gazed absently into our bottles. Cherry sat watching us with silent sympathy. Suddenly, the pitter-patter of small feet on the dirt behind us startled us out of our trance.

"Are you the people from the vault?" a child's voice asked.

We swiveled around on our stools to see a group of children gathering around us. One child's question opened a flood gate as they all began to rattle off questions. The cacophony of questions irritated me to the point that I wanted to get up and just walk away, but Sarah showcased her teaching experience as she quieted them down and brought order to their line of questions. I took a deep breath to calm myself before turning back to the counter to ask Anthony for another cola. I turned around and watched as the children stared up at Sarah, their eyes widened with curiosity and their lips parted in eagerness to throw out another question. Cherry and I smiled at Sarah's charm as she gave her impromptu lesson on life in the vault. The children had also opened a flood gate for the other townspeople who had been watching us with equal curiosity to approach. People came and went to listen in and ask questions. We were there for a while, Sarah doing most of the talking while I sat back, leaning against the counter and studying the people who came to see us. They appeared as the unwashed masses of my imagination, but far more downtrodden than I could have comprehended. Quite literally, dirt and grim gripped their skin and ragged clothes to varying degrees. Their features worn and torn from their rough and tumble lives. Rough, even leathery skin from years of exposure to the sun, even on the young people, who themselves carried a demeanor of someone older than their actual years. Their hands thick and calloused. Many were thin but muscular. Their hairstyles varied greatly compared to the typical crew cuts, clean and combed hair of the vault. Long, bedraggled, fades of different types, mohawks, etcetera. For many their hair was oily or dried out by the dust. Then there were the deformities, no doubt a result of radiation passing through generations. Cancerous tumors and lesions, malformed bodies and limbs, milky eyes, invalids both physical and mental.

They were all there, in a tapestry of life woven by threads of the familiar and the otherworldly. The rough ramshackle structures behind them a backdrop. Rough and ramshackle, but with all efforts to make them look homely. Just like the people. Behind their ruggedness and deformities wholly unlike the people of my vault, there lie the same humanity. I began to understand the compassion of my parents and wondered if they were inspired by moments exactly like this. But then their shadows flashed in my mind, and I was reminded of their fate. My gaze tilted up over the heads of the crowd and towards the sky, because I could not look at them anymore. My parents died for these people. The pain from their death had become fresh to me again. It's hard to forgive when you are in pain. But whom I could not forgive, I didn't know.

The center of town was packed with townspeople, all bunched together around picnic, makeshift, and foldable tables. Squeezing together on benches and limited chairs while others simply chose to stand and eat with their plate to give room for the children, pregnant women and invalids. Wall flowers hung back on the dark edges where the glow of the bonfire and string lights above stopped. A tight cluster of people lined the lunch counter of the commissary, passing a tall bottle of liquor down the line. Loners and couples alike looked down on the crowd of diners below from the roofs and catwalks of the shacks. There was a buzz of chatter and laughter rising just above the music playing from a loudspeaker. Upon finishing their meal, two kids jumped out of their seats and started chasing each other through the crowded dining pavilion. One of them slipping through a line of people to evade getting tagged. That line of people waiting to be served a portion of the two-headed cow (I learned that the wastelanders call them brahmin) which hung from a spike holding it over a cook fire. Nearby, other cooks roasted smaller and less desirable meat over the fires. The meat then being cut into pieces and thrown into a stew of vegetables. One of a few options on the long tables where people came in a disorderly fashion to grab their first, second and perhaps even third helping of grub. After gathering their food, they raced back to their seats. Passing tables of children laughing as they flung their food at each other, red faced drunks singing along to the music, comedians telling funny stories to an absorbed intimate crowd, quarrelsome families, and finally, me.

Sarah and I were slow to eat our food as it was the first time our pallets had encountered such a cuisine. Sarah dipped her bread gingerly into the stew of mysterious meats and vegetables we never had before. A way of steadily introducing her taste buds to foreign flavors with unknown effects. I sat beside her, at first hesitant to eat the ribs given to me off the brahmin. They were pitiful looking creatures with loose saggy skin and sparse hairs for a hide, marked with warts, boils and blisters. Their two-heads quite disturbed me as well. Least to say, they did not inspire my appetite. But I looked around watching as the others greedily devoured the greasy meat. I thought then about the nature of how we 'grew' our meat in the vault. A scientific process wherein the stem cells of pre-war farm animals are used to raise a chunk of flesh, which is then sanitized with chemical sprays and preservatives, before its packaged for later use. It was an ugly unappetizing process that I was fortunate to only learn about but not see. No doubt, the wastelanders would have found that repulsive too. Embracing humility, I closed my eyes and bit down into the thickest portion of the rib. As I tore the meat from the bone and chewed, a warm feeling spread from my head to the rest of the body. It was unpleasant, and I feared that the meat had made me instantly sick. But before I could convince myself that I was about to throw up, the flavor settled on my tongue with a richness I had never experienced. I let out an audible "mmm." Sarah giggled as she watched me begin to devour the rib, giving her the courage to dig into her stew.

Everyone around us watched us eat with amusement. Cherry sat across from us grinning and leaning so far forward that her chin nearly touched the wooden table. "I think they like it," she said as her glance turned to the others. Chief sat next to her; his attention absorbed in the rib between his hands. Mammy sat to my left cutting her chicken and chuckling to herself. The others around us laughed.

"They did a good job with the brahmin tonight," Chief said smacking his lips. "Anthony's crew loves to grill."

"Yeah, too bad we can't eat like this every night," Cherry said beaming.

"Say, why don't you guys head back to the vault and bring back some more people. We'll have a party for each one ya bring," one of the others said. The rest laughed and seconded the idea. Sarah, Mammy, Chief and I were uncomfortably silent, but our sudden downcast demeanor was lost in the merriment. Chief and Mammy looked at us sympathetically. Chief set his rib bone down on the plate and cleared his throat to speak. But Cherry interrupted before he could speak.

"Chummy!" she exclaimed jumping up in her seat. She looked past Sarah and I at a man coming towards us. I turned to see who it was. A tall thin man with light skin. He wore an outfit of different shades of blue: light blue jeans, a darker shaded blue jacket faded and patched with different shades and fabrics of the same color, and a navy-blue beanie capped tightly to his head. A scoped rifle was slung over his shoulder. His expression, the opposite of Cherry's, serious and stoic. Chief and Cherry made room for him as he came around the table and took a seat. "Finally came out of your hidey-hole huh," Cherry kidded.

"You mean my post?" he replied in a monotone. "Just came down to get some food then I have to head back up."

"You don't have to head up. Stay here and eat! Have a drink! Let's do some dancing!" she exclaimed shimmying in her seat and bumping him with her hip. "Don't you wanna meet the vault dwellers?"

He turned his attention to us and extended his hand across the table. "I've already met them. But it's good to meet you up close. My names Chum."

I realized then that he was the same lookout who spotted us as we came from the north side of the town. I wiped my hand on my leg and reached out to take his. Sarah followed. "You were the guard that called out to us this morning, right?" She asked.

"That's right. I nearly shot you two."

"I'm glad you didn't," she replied sheepishly.

"Your blue suits saved you. Only thing that usually comes from that direction are ferals, so I usually don't hesitate." Sarah and I laughed nervously.

"Putting on that patented Chummy Charm," Cherry joked as she needled his side with her elbow. "I tried to save you a plate."

"That's okay, I'll go get some now and get back to my post."

Chief put his hand on Chum's shoulder as he rose from his seat. "Hang on a minute, Chum." He stood up and scanned the crowd before banging his fist on the table. Suddenly the others at our table started banging on it as well. The banging spread to the other tables until everyone was doing it. Chief stood on top of the table bench and the banging ceased. The music from the loudspeaker was abruptly cut off. "I have an announcement," Chief said in a raised voice. "As we all know, we're celebrating tonight because we have guests. Let's take a moment to welcome them." The banging returned; this time accompanied by cheers. Chief waited sullenly as the noise faded. "Nathan. Sarah. Welcome to Hell's Gate. Rest assured, as long as you're here, we'll treat you with the same kindness your parents did for us." "Here Here!" someone shouted. Chief paused to look down at us, conveying all his sympathy with his eyes. "But… I wish I could say that we are only celebrating tonight. But sadly, we are also mourning." A chill silence spread through the crowd. "Our guests informed us this morning that Vault 123… is in a civil war." Some gasps escaped from the chilling silence. Eventually, murmurs began to spread through the crowd. Sarah and I could feel the intensity of everyone's eyes on us. Chief continued, "Nathan and Sarah were forced to flee the violence. As far as we know, they are the only ones who got out."

The murmurs swirled around us:

"I never could've imagined…"

"What happened. What are they fighting for?"

"I don't know."

"Should we do something?"

"What can we do? Not like we can even get in there."

"I guess we never really knew what was happening behind that door."

Finally, someone else stood up on their table. "What's the fighting all about? Is there anything we can do to help them?" Chief turned his attention back down to us for an answer to the questions. But he could see the discomfort. The sound of the murmurs dug into my ears and altered into distant screams and gunfire. I looked down at the ground. As did Sarah. Chief turned back to the other speaker. "It seems the divisions in the vault we were told about years ago have gotten worse."

Another person stood up, "a war so close to our town!? We can't just stand by while this happens. A lot of people from that vault did right by us. We owe it to them." There was hum of agreement.

"There's a 2000-ton door sealed airtight between us and them. We couldn't intervene even if we wanted to," replied another.

"So what do we do if the door opens?" shouted another from the nearby rooftop. "If these two got out, who's to say we won't get more refugees? What if the fighting comes here?"

"Then we deal with it!" Cherry shouted as she jumped up on top of our table, now towering over everyone else. "We do the right thing when the time comes. But until then all we can do is wait. And as for right now, in this moment, this isn't some town hall. This is a party! We're here to celebrate the arrival of two friends, and mourn the loss of the ones they loved: our neighbors. Gimme that beer." She pointed at someone nearby with a full pint. They hesitantly handed it up to her. She raised the glass, "To Sarah and Nathan, to Vault 123, and to the lost." Suddenly, the banging of the tables returned and there were cheers of agreement. I looked around at the crowd, dumbfounded. The loudspeaker screeched alive and began to play an old-world tune. The people sang: We'll meet again. Don't know where. Don't know when! But I know we'll meet again, some sunny day. Keep smiling through, just like you always do, till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away!

My ears began to ring. Ring until it hurt so that I clutched them. The shadows of my parents. The helpless feeling. The chaos. The screaming. The limp body of Mr. Church. The blank eyes of Joe Dandre, the bleeding heart of Allen Denglar. Blood. Blood on my hands. So. Much. Blood. The hate. The anger in his eyes. A hatred I have never seen before. NEVER COME BACK! It's gone! It's all gone and I have nothing!

My heart began to race but as I looked at all the singing people around me, it felt as if time began to slow down. Their voices blending into a low drone. My eyes darted around the pavilion in confusion. What are these people doing? They just found out that my people are killing each other. And they're singing. My racing heart began to burn with anger, its beat drumming in my ears until it overcame the droning. It was then that my eyes finally fixed on Sarah. She had put her hand on my arm and looked into my eyes with deep concern. "Are you okay, Nate?"

I didn't respond. I looked down at the table where I found that someone had put a pint of beer in front of me. Without hesitation, I took it and gulped it down until the whole thing was empty, many around me cheering me on as I did. When all that was left was thin layer of foam at the bottom of the glass, I slammed it down on the table, embracing the fuzzy feeling in my brain as it sat heavy in my stomach. Sarah tugged on my arm, continuing to look at me with concern. Finally, I acknowledged her. "I need to go to the bathroom."

I got up and walked away briskly, not sure of where I was going but certain it had to be anywhere else but here. My feet took me towards the lunch counter. As I approached, the group there passing liquor around called out to me, shaking the bottle in my direction. Suddenly I felt an inescapable craving to keep that fuzzy feeling. As I approached the counter, they cheered and patted me on the back. Someone poured me a shot. As soon as the bottle moved away, I picked up the glass and threw it back. I had never actually had a shot before; it burned more than I thought it would, irritating my throat and triggering my gag reflex. The others around me laughed as my momentary heave gave way to coughing. Someone quickly gave me a glass of water which I threw back as quickly as the shot. As soon as my pallet was soothed, I asked for another. The others cheered again and patted me on the back. Another shot was put in front of me. I slugged it. Another. And another. Finally after one more shot, the crowd began to show concern. I paid them no mind. For a moment I stared up at one of the lights hanging overhead, its bright beams assaulted my eyes before they began to wobble uncontrollably. I looked at the one pouring me shots and said with a slight slur, "I got to get going. Give me the rest of that bottle." Then promptly left.

Sometime later, I was leaning over a railing puking without any recollection of what I was doing before this. I heaved for the last time and spit into the darkness below. The spinning in my head remained as I looked up to get my bearings. My vision blurred for a moment before I could focus. When I did, I realized where I was; on top of the walls, looking out at the hills and the Hudson River. I recognized the stone ruins Sarah and I passed when we approached the town. A sliver of moonlight had passed through the clouds casting itself on the land, reflecting off the distant river waters and the pale stones of the ruins. I stared transfixed at them, and they stared back apathetically. Beyond those stones, beyond the burnt-out trees and stumps, beyond the next hill, was the vault door, standing just as still as those stones. Finally, I began to straighten myself up coming off the rail. I shifted my feet and kicked something glass. The bottle of whiskey I took, now empty. Gingerly, I reached down to pick it up, holding onto the rail with one hand as I still felt dizzy. I examined it in my hand before turning around towards the center of town. The music and chatter though faint, was still going, so it must not have been a long time that I was blacked out. I turned my attention back to the bottle. It was a dark shade of green but not dark enough that I couldn't see my silhouetted reflection in it as the moonlight shined above me. I stared into my reflection for a moment, the confusion that I had woken up with fading, replaced with the anger I felt before. Suddenly, I chucked the bottle out towards the ruins. I watched it tumble forward in an arc before smashing on some rocks. Afterwards there was silence, the murmurs of the party growing more silent as a cold breeze stung my face. I could feel a burning in my eyes.

"Hey." A voice called out from somewhere to my right. Not more than 10 feet away. A figure shrouded behind a tarp, pushed it aside and emerged from a small box of a guard post. I recognized him as the man I had met down at the party, Chum. He walked over to me with a canteen. "Here, drink some water." I looked at it hesitantly as he extended it out to me. The after taste of vomit resurfaced in my mouth so I took it, swishing the water around and spitting it over the railing before taking a long gulp. "Easy now, you'll make yourself sick if you drink too much too fast."

I took the canteen from my lips and screwed the cap on. "Thanks." I reached it out to give it back to him, but he gestured for me to keep it "…Thanks again."

"You look young. How old are you?" He asked.

"19."

"You ever drank like this before?"

I shook my head, "No." Feeling bashful, I turned away from him to look out at the wasteland.

He leaned against the rail next to me, looking out at the wasteland, too. "You can't escape your problems at the bottom of a bottle. They always find you. Leave you feeling worse than you did before."

"What do you know about my problems."

"Maybe I do know, maybe I don't. But I know a problemed kid when I see one. I was—"

"Don't call me a fucking kid, alright. You don't know a goddamn thing about me."

"Easy," he said coolly, his eyes never turning away from the landscape. "You're right. You're not a kid anymore are you. You've lost your innocence."

The corpse of Overseer Denglar flashed in my mind. The tension in my body began to relax. I looked down towards the ground below us, but I still felt guarded. "So, I suppose the better way to cope with seeing your people slaughtered… being cast out of your home, is to sing and laugh and party about it, huh."

He was silent, still looking out at the wasteland. Finally, he said "I don't blame you for feeling overwhelmed by all this. Being out here. Probably very different from what you knew. Don't blame you for not understanding our customs."

"What do you mean."

"That song we were singing down there. You know it?"

"Yeah, we have it in the Vault, too."

"So, you must know then what it's about, right? Our ancestors long ago sang that song as they went off to war. It gave them hope that when the fighting was done, they would see the ones they loved again."

"…"

"War is constant up here. Nobody is a stranger to violence and tragedy. But in this community, we choose to celebrate the few good times we have. When death is a regular part of life, many let their grief consume them. We choose to celebrate the lives of the dead. Hold hope that we'll see the lost again and see happier times."

"…"

"I don't blame you for wanting to get away from it. I know it's hard to see others having a good time when you feel so miserable. But just know that what you're hearing down there is our way of grieving."

We stood there in silence continuing to look out towards the hills and the river. The music and the chatter returned to my attention. I closed my eyes and listened to the feint lyrics of a song. It's all over but the crying. And nobody's crying but me. Friends all over know I'm trying to forget about how much I care for you. It's all over but the dreaming. Poor little dreams that keep trying to come true. It's all over but the crying. And I can't get over crying over you.

"Nate?" A voice called out from behind us. I turned to see Sarah approaching from a catwalk towards us. Chum wordlessly turned and walked away down the wall. "I've been looking for you," Sarah said as she came to stand beside me. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"I don't believe you."

"… I'm sorry I left you like that. I just needed to get away, from everything."

"I know… I was really worried about you down there."

"I'm sorry I worried you."

She gazed out in awe of the scenery, an expanse she had never seen before, lit in the melancholic blue of the moonlight. "Don't be sorry." We remained silent as we looked out at the wasteland. "It's beautiful don't you think?" Sarah finally spoke.

I didn't respond because truthfully the scenery wasn't what was on my mind. But I stared out, nervous to say what I wanted to say. Finally, I turned to her, "How do you do it?"

"Do what?" she replied, still looking out at the wasteland.

"How have you kept it together all day? How can you still be so positive? All day you've been friendly to everyone we've met. You've been laughing and smiling and… admiring the scenery. While I'm just a drunken mess."

She chuckled and shook her head. "Oh Nate, on the outside I seem okay. But on the inside, I'm a mess too. I can't stop thinking about it. All our neighbors dead, killing each other. What we did to the Overseer, and Zach… My parents." Her voice began to choke up and tremble.

I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry Sarah. This is my fault. I killed the Overseer. If I had just kept to myself like I had, never said anything, maybe they never would have come for me. If I had just given myself up to them, maybe they would have left your family alone. You wouldn't have been dragged up here with me." My own voice began to choke up too.

"I told you not to be sorry."

"But—"

"This morning, I didn't have it together. Do you remember? I wasn't just scared. I wanted to stay there and wait to die. But you kept me moving. If it weren't for you… You showed strength when I couldn't, so all day I've been doing the same for you." She finally turned to look at me. "None of this is your fault. We're just kids cast out into the world."

"But you didn't have to be cast out with me."

She sighed, "Oh Nate, I would have been just as devastated if I knew you were out here alone. That doesn't matter though. What matters is that we're both out here, and I know I can't make it without you."

I began to tremble, "I can't make it without you either." I chuckled. "Oh Sarah, all day I've been telling myself that I needed to be strong for you. I've been so angry. Afraid that I've let you down."

"We pick each other up when the other is down. Just like we have our whole lives."

"Yeah."

"But Nate, it's okay to not be okay. It's okay to be scared." Her voice began to choke up again as her trembling grew stronger. Tears welled in her eyes. "It's okay to cry."

I followed her lead, "Yes," I said through a sob.

We fell into each other's arms as tears poured out from both of us. Letting loose the cries we had held all day. While the moon, completely freed from the dark clouds, cast its light out over us and the wasteland. Our silhouettes merging into one in the backdrop of an uncaring, still, wasteland.