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"No, come on, come on!"
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The Pip-Boy screen flickered, emitted a high-pitch whine, and then went black.
Evelyn panicked, smacking the thing into oblivion as she gasped in sheer terror. "Holy fuck, oh no no-nonononononono!"
This is not happening now no way oh fucking shit-
She was so engrossed in her impromptu service repair (or disrepair, more appropriately) that she failed to hear the sound of footsteps clambering down the metal walkway. A raider was just about to snag at the collar of her jacket when she finally turned around at the smell of something grossly unpleasant.
"C'mere, bitch!"
Evelyn screamed in alarm, reflexively smacking her broken wrist computer upside the man's skull. He stumbled back from the blow with a curse, and she took the opportunity to flee.
"You get back here!"
Shouts echoed down the corridors as she full-on sprinted past the bewildered cannibals and sleeping molerats. Everyone caught a glimpse of the golden-blue human-sized blur galloping at Mach speed right past them, evading outstretched grimy fingertips and barely dodging screeching bullet fire.
A chain link gate was thrown open, and not for the first time, she blessed the sight of the open sky. She took the metro steps two at a time to the top, wheezing at the burn in her legs and the hitch in her lungs. She didn't have the luxury to stop and catch her breath, however, for a misconducted symphony with death as its composer was playing everywhere on the surface streets.
"Oh my God," she shakily breathed as she took in the sight of the chaos whizzing all around her.
Super mutants galore firing away at chem-induced crackheads along with some sort of militant type of guys were having an all-for-one deathmatch. Grenades showered concrete dust and slimy gore along the side of buildings; a few lifeless bodies of both species were floating in the green stagnate water of the canal.
Just as she wrapped her fingers through the mesh of the metro gate did she hear the cries of those from earlier still giving chase. She was going to either risk being caught by raiders in the dark tunnels of the underground, or have her limbs blown off by entering the fray.
She chose a third option- to hide.
There wasn't much in terms of cover. Super mutants were stationed on high ground in the skeleton remains of buildings, the wooden planks used as makeshift walkways sprinkling dirt down as they shook from their relentless stomping. She nearly suffocated herself from smothering her arm to her face to quiet her coughing after inhaling on the dust; she kept low and constantly whirled around like a rat, eyes wide with fear and muscles tensed to spring.
A dumpster to her right blew up from a stray missile, slamming her into a brick wall. Her ears were ringing- she couldn't hear! She couldn't see!
Oh no, I'm dead, I'm fucking dead- Dad-!
All at once, it came back, the black smoke whirling away with the cold wind as the music of destruction began to sing once more. Gunfire peppered around; screeches ricocheted for all to hear. She watched a super mutant grab a raider clean off her feet, and then rip the woman in half.
Her feet pounded against the blacktop of the streets, fuck this-fuck this!
One of the green giants spotted her and gnashed its teeth together as it began to barrel towards her- she screamed, earning the attention of more. Her footing slipped as she skidded around the side of a building, her heart being sobbed out as she heard them grunting right behind her. Another metro gate was just up ahead- she would take the raiders over the mutants any fucking day.
Unfortunately, no one had told her about the ferals.
At first, she had been more than fucking relieved at knocking into someone down in these dark, damp, radroach-infested subway tunnels- she was too stupid and wired on adrenaline to even bother questioning as to why they would be living down here in these conditions.
The feral ghoul went sprawling on the ground after being tackled in the side like a headbutt from a brahmin. Evelyn immediately sprang to her feet, reaching out to assist them and panting every other word.
"Oh my God, I am so-so-so sorry-!" Her mouth began to race a mile a minute, her eyes glancing over her shoulder for any sign they would follow her down here. So far, it was just herself and the ghoul. "I don't know where-"
The feral hissed, silencing her words into stupefied surprise, and she instinctively snapped her helping hand back to her side as the ghoul made a lunge for her. It was then that the smell kicked her so hard in the nose that tears sprung from her eyes, and as she was laid out flat on her back (with the sledgehammer digging into her spine) she realized this person didn't have any clothes.
"What the fuck?! Get off me!" she shrieked, batting her hands at their face as they snarled and drooled thick ropes of saliva on her throat. She brought a kneecap up, and she could hear the silently collective groans from every nutsack around the world as she smashed the flaccid tidbits into flattened pancakes.
The feral curled into itself as it was shoved over to the side, and without even bothering to question this pervert streaker, she hightailed it towards the other end of the metro to where she could make out the faint light of day.
Galaxy News Radio better be fucking close, or she was just going to dig her own fucking grave at this point.
The Brotherhood Knight didn't take his eyes off the sight before him to address his superior coming up from behind.
"What is it, Earl? Mutants taking a piss on the Memorial again?" The Paladin briefly paused beside his subordinate, both taking in the sight of a young woman flailing a sledgehammer around like a wild fiend at a few stray mutts. "...who the hell is that? A civilian?"
Earl would have shrugged if he wasn't clad from head to toe in power armor. "She just came from the Mall Northwest station like a cazador out of hell..." Their helmets slowly swiveled in motion with her erratic movements. She had lifted the sledgehammer high above her head, the weight of the tip suddenly careening her backward. An ugly squawk left her mouth as she was forced to plop down on her ass.
The Paladin gave a filtered sigh through the internal mic in his helmet. "Go help her out."
The Brotherhood Knight did as ordered, effectively reducing the mutts into bright ash just as they were gnawing on her boots. "Hey, civilians shouldn't be this far into D.C. You alright?"
Evelyn raised her head, blowing a strand of hair from her face and reaching for her discarded ballcap that blew off to the side. She blinked at this enormous stature of armor standing before her like some white knight from a fairytale. "Uh, uh, yes. Thank you." She got to her feet, checking herself for any injury. Some scratches, bruises, and bumps, but nothing she couldn't treat herself. Her dirt-stained hands wiped at her knees and shook out her jacket. "Uh, Galaxy News?"
Earl cocked his helmet to the side. "GNR? What about it?"
"Is..." She meekly looked around now that she had a proper chance to survey the landscape. "Am I close?" The arm of her Pip-Boy was held up like it was the sole reason for this entire happenstance. "It broke awhile ago."
The Brotherhood Knight didn't say anything for a few moments, and she squirmed under his invisible stare.
"You're at the Mall."
She furrowed her brows, not understanding.
Earl repeated himself slowly, as though giving his words time to sink in. "The Mall." He shouldered his rifle to point across the way. "Galaxy News is to the North." He eyed her, now noticing the vault suit. "Why are you trying to get there? D.C. is crawling with muties."
Her entire face had been slowly melting into utter heartbreak with every syllable he spoke, and by the end, she was brusquely wiping her teary eyes and snuffing snot back up her head.
Earl felt his chest tighten- it was disheartening to watch a pretty face like hers stand there and cry. "Look," he tried again with a gentle tone. He reached out and took ahold of her shoulder as though she was made of glass. "Why don't you tell me your name."
"Evelyn," she sobbed.
"Okay, Evelyn." He looked up at the sky. "It's going to get dark soon, and you don't want to be out in the ruins when night falls. Where are you coming from?"
She smeared some goop across her chin. "M-Megaton."
"Megaton..." He peered over his shoulder- his superior was waving at him to return to his post. "Alright, look, if you stay out here, there's no guarantee we can keep you safe. You got mutants on one end, and then some slavers on the other to complete this shit sandwich. That isn't even to mention the Talon jerks that sometimes roam around. We're about cornered just every which way around here."
Evelyn hiccupped, wishing more than anything that she had never left her bed that morning. "Then where the fuck am I supposed to go?!"
"...you ever heard of a place called Underworld?"
How the fuck did it all come to this?
It was completely full circle- the dirt, the grass, the deer, death, the dirt, the grass. She couldn't believe her fucking luck, or, with this day's series of most unfortunate events, maybe she could.
She should have stayed in bed.
There wouldn't be the throbbing headache from the crash of adrenaline she was trying to remedy with cola and a splash of whiskey. No sensation that her blistered, sore feet were walking barefoot over Hell's bed of brimstone and coals. The slobber and teeth marks on her boots from those wild dogs would be nonexistent.
There was no telling just how this day could get any worse.
Evelyn glanced around the mostly empty room from her spot, treating her ass on this barstool as though it were a life preserver out at sea.
Gob had told her some stories of this rumored city when she had first crawled out from the earth, had said there was a whole town of just ghouls; a colony of finely, radiated souls. Her shining metal savior had pointed down the way and she had blindly taken his word for it. She barely remembered what the snippy sentry or wiseass mechanic had even said to her upon admittance- her eyelids were so heavy she could barely keep her head off the counter.
She should have gotten a bed rather than a drink, but the comfort of a cool glass sounded like Heaven itself blessing this unholy shithole.
The barkeep sidled on over- she hadn't even bothered to ask for his name yet.
"If you would prefer, I have some, private quarters, that you may retire in for the night." His voice pricked pins and needles under her skin, as though a slimy oil coated his tongue and kept being regurgitated in the back of his throat. Nasty.
The offer was attempted as a comforting purr, but it only made her cringe away from the mottled green hand gently resting atop her own.
"Um, no thank you," she said thickly, rubbing at the bags under her eyes. Didn't the ghoul downstairs say there was-
The double doors at her back creaked open on their rusted hinges.
"Ah, Charon," the bartender rasped with some interest. Almost instantly, his expression and mannerism went from sleazy charmer to pure annoyance. "You're late. You were due back yesterday."
Evelyn turned with her glass held to her lips, but when she met the eyes of the ghoul standing beside her, she felt her blood slush into ice. The entire cocktail dribbled down her chin to soak her chest. She barely took notice. A sizeable military-grade duffel bag was slammed on the counter beside her, the big ghoul she had made great first impressions with staring down at her with hateful reproach.
This bar was the dirt, her drink had become the grass, and here she was, a fair doe, looking up into the face of death.
In their previous encounter, she had only been able to make out the eyes. They had glowed, just like any other ghoul, but they were bright. Two eternal fires, raging inside their prisons of mere flesh and bone, captive from laying anything before them to pure, hot ash.
The creak of his leather, the hint of gun oil, the dark blood painted across his muscled canvas. A warrior from another time, another soil, rekindled in the body of a new man. Here he stood, as proud and ominous as a trireme sailing through a storm. This ghoul portrayed nothing but the simple message of I can kill you.
And she didn't misinterpret a single word of it.
She had been gaping at him like a fish struggling to breathe; eyes boggling from her skull from the overwhelming pressure of being brought to the surface too quickly. She had been reeled up from the black waters by a solid wire, tugged on by a single finger till she writhed and burned under that unforgiving sun.
The bartender beside her kept speaking- she had tuned him out completely in fear if she were to look away, the ghoul glaring down at her would sink a knife into her gut.
"Wha-what?" Evelyn finally tore her eyes from his, instinct begging her to move away from this apex predator. Her foot twitched.
He was staring at her with a deep frown, but it wasn't one of concern. "It appears you have spilled your drink; would you care for another?"
She looked down, now realizing her frontside was soaked and becoming sticky. "Shit," she muttered under her breath. She stupidly wiped at it with her hand, still trying to process the situation through her fog-clouded mind. Everything was taking that dreamy quality, a thick velvet blanket pulled over her eyes.
"Sorry," she mumbled, staggering from her seat as she made for the door. She didn't bother looking behind her to their hawk-like stares following until she was gone from sight.
The boring eyes of the multitude of ghouls preying on her like owls would a mouse made her feet quicken and hands sloppy. The doors across from the bar were opened with a half-stumble inside, and she gave a weary look to the ghoul (woman?) standing behind the counter.
"Oh, oh my," she garbled as Evelyn wobbled through. "I'm guessing you're the smoothskin Winthrop was talking about..."
Evelyn flopped her bag at her side and brusquely tried to rub the exhaustion from her face. "Is there somewhere I can lie down?" she asked in a heavy voice. Things were beginning to make little sense, she needed sleep, and now.
"Of course, 120 caps." The hostess gave a blink at the bag of currency plopped before her. "Um, it, it will only take me a moment to count-"
"The morning it'll be," Evelyn drawled like a drunken sailor.
There was little to remember but the sigh of her mattress, the snug pull of sheets, and the fact that despite the ever-growing darkness fading the world from her eyes, she thought to herself, ew, I never took my boots off.
The mornings were always a bit different. Even though she had spent weeks on the surface, every time she opened her eyes to her head on a pillow, for one very brief second, she believed she was in the Vault.
The bare floor would be cold under her feet, making her hop and skip to the bathroom to stand under that delicious spray of never-ending hot water. A clean suit and a pair of buffed boots to adorn, a plate of previously cooked breakfast lying in wait on the table, covered from the chill of the room and sprinkled with the usual note- Good morning, I'm off to the clinic. I love you.
The illusion would normally dissipate with a giant kick behind her eyes, but this time, it was relayed by a necrotic face hovering inches from her own.
"You still alive, smoothskin?"
Evelyn rapidly blinked, and then thrust her head back from the stench (God knows how long) of unbrushed teeth and a light misting of spittle on her cheek.
"Yeah, she's up," the ghoul woman before her observed with a snip. She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You going to pay for a second night, smoothskin? I've got work to do."
"Greta!" The other one from the night before came around the side, a slight dip in her walk from walking on a busted heel in her shoe. "Shame on you! Look at the poor dear, give her a hand, will you?"
Greta rolled her eyes- although subtly- and scoffed. "Sure." When the other woman had given a nod of approval and walked away, she leaned forward slightly to hiss in her ear, "You stay away from Carol, smoothskin, I've got my eye on you." She straightened herself upright and attempted to flatten some permanent wrinkles from her dress. "Now, you going to eat something? The stew just stopped moving."
Before Evelyn could protest, her stomach gave a growling rumble of an answer. She lightly shrugged her shoulders.
Greta gave a terse nod of her head to the side. "Come on, then, I have other customers to tend to, you know."
Evelyn was soon seated and staring down at a chipped plate serving something...indescribable. A few black bubbles blew and popped, wafting a sour stench to her nose. She felt the eyes of the ghoul who had served it unblinking at her face.
"Well? Not to your flavor, smoothskin?" she asked caustically.
A fork with missing tines was picked up, and she carefully peeled off a tiny piece of the tarry goo to then politely place on her tongue. She chewed, stopped, and looked back at the ghoul with a forced smile.
"Thank you," her voice shook.
Greta nodded in satisfaction, turning away to resume her duties over the stove. "Just let me know when you want seconds."
As soon as she was out of sight, Evelyn spat it back on her plate before her entire empty stomach could remove it first. She scraped at her tongue with her grubby fingertips until another ghoul in a tattered suit came around the side.
He thoroughly eyed her for a few moments, causing her to bristle under the scrutiny.
"You don't look like much," he grunted.
"I can easily say the same," Evelyn snapped without even thinking. She forced the plate across the table and reached inside her bag for a bruised mutfruit. The creeping smell from inside her suit made her grimace, although, it was somewhat hard to tell if it was even hers.
When the ghoul didn't leave, she gave him a hard stare.
"I'm sorry, but can I help you?" she asked with a hint of aggravation.
"Depends, smoothskin," he replied, adjusting his tie to lie flat against his throat. "I'm looking for someone to take on a job."
She waved a hand in disinterest. Any other occasion, and she would have been forced to obey her good nature, but at that moment she was utterly grotesque, famished...and somewhat strangely horny. A shower, some real food, and maybe a courtesy at some privacy, and she was sure she would then listen to this ghoul's request. She did for just about everyone else.
"Not interested, thank you," she said civilly.
"Don't know why I even bother with your kind," he muttered sourly, not apologizing for the insult as he stalked on past.
The ghoul hostess that gave her the accommodations came back with a nervous smile showcasing missing teeth and a sack of caps in her hands. Evelyn nearly choked on her breakfast at the realization she had left her entire stash with this woman overnight.
"Don't worry, dearie, I didn't take more than you owed," she rasped gently as she handed it back. "You were in quite a way last night. Are you feeling better?"
Evelyn looked up at this woman, the sincerity in her voice almost making her cry. Whoever she was, she was now ranked in her top three of people she would do anything for.
"I am, thank you." She genuinely smiled.
"Oh, my, you are such a pretty young thing." The woman laughed; the wet sound akin to someone choking. "I'm Carol, and you've already met my Greta." She waved a hand in the air to the ghoul standing beside the stove...staring at her. "Welcome to Carol's Place, well, my place. I do hope you enjoy your stay...we don't get too many smoothskins, down here. Try not to mind all the staring, it's been some years."
Evelyn nodded, wiping at the juices running from the corners of her lips with her fingers and then sucking them greedily. Her eyes then unfocused, and she remembered the entire scene from the bar like some rewound sitcom holovid. She gulped, and her cheeks grew hot.
"You're not ill, are you?" Carol asked with concern as she mistook the bright red of her face for something else. "Doctor Barrows downstairs is good with humans- I think you should go see him when you can."
Evelyn ignored the suggestion, and instead, finally looked around the room for the first time upon waking. "Is, is there anywhere I can, um, shower, or something?"
It wasn't a shower, it wasn't even hot...but it was water, albeit, radiated, but cool, clean water, nonetheless. The working taps in the bathroom by the entrance to the Museum of History provided some private, reflective time to herself as she scrubbed her bare skin while her suit and garments were soaking in suds. She reflexively went to check her rad count on her Pip-Boy...and then remembered her entire dilemma.
She was stuck in the downtown of the D.C. ruins, in a ghoul city, with no map or know-how of how to get back home. Forget Galaxy News Radio, forget Dad, she was fucking stuck here till who knows how long!
When her skin tingled and her hair was washed, braided, and tucked under her maroon baseball cap, she left her suit to dry over a bathroom stall while she inventoried her things in her bag and considered her amount of caps. She had enough for a couple of nights, she was sure...but then what? Go back out there? She would be smeared as paste on the pavement quicker than her dad suddenly upending her life and walking away from it all.
She hugged herself and shivered in her damp underwear as she inspected the Pip-Boy for its possible cause of malfunction. She had a knack for tinkering with things, but she lacked the skill in fixing them. The bomb in Megaton was only disarmed due to having read about it prior- there wasn't a whole lot of unrestricted material to devour down in the Vault, and so she took what she could sink her teeth into to suck the marrow clean from the bone.
But this was a whole new city, and these were ghouls, some probably Pre-War...someone around here might know something.