Ella pressed her hands into the earth, rhythmically pushing the soil as the sun began to set, casting a golden glow across the land. With careful sun-kissed hands, she planted the seeds, gently tucking them into the earth, lost in the peace of the fading day. It was a simple life, governed only by the seasons and Ella was grateful for it. Their isolation shielded them from the chaos that plagued the commonwealth – a peace only few could claim. Very few passed by, just the occasional trader or caravan looking to trade. What couldn't be bought by passing traders, her father would head out to secure, travelling vast distances to neighbouring settlements to gather supplies, leaving Ella behind to tend to their home.
Sweeping a loose lock of dark blonde hair from her face, she looked out across the farm. A rickety wooden fence surrounded the edge serving as a barrier between them, and the untamed wasteland. She was grateful for their home, but sometimes she couldn't help but wonder what lay beyond. She'd heard the stories - rumours of ghastly creatures twisted by radiation and fearsome reptilian beasts with claws that could rip a man in two. Her father had never mentioned such monsters during his travels, and the most she'd encountered were the Radroaches, whose insatiable hunger was a constant headache for the farm.
The old weather-beaten farmhouse she had grown up in still stood firm despite showing signs of wear and tear from time and radiation. Nearby Mr Farmhand, a rusted, pre-war robot, watered Tato plants with a leaky bucket, their purple leaves promising a bountiful harvest in the coming months. Having fertile soil was a rare commodity here. Radiation had decimated the land, leaving it barren and desolate, but their patch of land seemed to be fighting back, flourishing against the odds.
Suddenly a deafening boom filled the air, startling the Brahmin in their pens and sending her German shepherd, Dogmeat, into a flurry of barking. Ella's heart raced, quickly soothing the frightened animals as she scanned the horizon, her eyes landing on a dark plume of smoke rising in the distance. It was close. Too close.
"Ella!" her father's voice rang out, tense "Inside now!"
She brushed the dirt from her knees, Dogmeat at her heels as she hurried towards the run-down house. Inside, her father, Thomas, was hunched over the old radio, his fingers trembling as he quickly tried to turn the dial but not before she heard it—the frantic warnings of raiders sightings nearby.
"Dad, what's going on?" she asked, unable to hide her worry. "Are they close?"
Her father looked up, his dark eyes meeting hers. "We'll be fine, Ella. We always are." He silenced the radio with a click, the matter closed but Ella wasn't convinced. The attacks were growing more frequent, each one edging closer. It was just the three of them now—Ella, her father, and Dogmeat. They didn't have the skills needed to protect themselves. They were farmers. Her father, once strong and capable, had grown old and weary, his movements slowed by time. Ella had never even held a gun; her hands were used to nurturing crops and cooking hearty meals, not wielding a weapon. The only one among them with any real combat experience was Dogmeat. Her father had rescued him from a meat market after years of being forced to fight, his nose and muzzle still bore the scars of his past and she would be damned if she ever allowed that to happen again.
The tension in her stomach lingered as she prepared dinner, the rich aroma of wild herbs filling the room. Cooking was one of the few pleasures she had, she dreamed of making hearty meals like she'd seen in the old, battered cookbooks she'd salvaged, but ingredients were scarce. Now and then, a trader would have a rare spice or dried vegetable, which she'd stretch as far as she could, rationing it out to add a hint of flavour to their meals. Tonight, though, all she had was potatoes, the last of the dried sage and a pinch of salt. She frowned as she tasted a spoonful - more sage would help, but they were almost out. Not that her father would mind, he loved her cooking, always cleaning his bowl and Dogmeat was more than happy to be her taste tester, no matter how plain the meal.
At the table, her father smiled she slipped titbits to Dogmeat beneath the table, his warm muzzle brushing her hand. Glancing down at her bowl, Ella hesitated, the question weighing on her mind pressing against her lips
"Are you sure it's safe here?"
Her father's jaw tightened. "I told you, there's nothing to worry about," he said firmly. "We're fine. It's safe here."
"If it's so safe then why won't you let me go with you to get supplies?" she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.
Her father's eyes narrowed, a familiar stubbornness settling over his face. "It's safe here, Ella. Not out there," he said firmly. "You don't know what it's like out there."
"I'm not a child anymore," she protested, her frustration rising. "I can help if you. I could go get supplies or —"
"No," he interrupted, his voice hardening. "This isn't up for debate. You're staying here where it's safe. That's final."
Ella opened her mouth to argue, but his expression made it clear the conversation was over. She sighed, letting the matter drop.
That night, she lay awake, her mind racing. With her father getting older and the raiders inching closer, it was becoming harder to ignore how exposed and vulnerable they were. As much as she loved the farm, she wondered if it was time to leave —find somewhere safer, closer to a settlement, with people who could help if things went wrong but where would they go?
The nearest settlement she knew of was Sampson's, but she'd only heard of it through their brief trades. Despite being an adult, her father had kept her sheltered from the world, there was no way she would be able to find it on her own. Even if by some miracle, she was able to find it, there was no guarantee they would be welcomed. Trust was difficult to come by in the wasteland, with strangers often met with suspicion and a loaded gun.
She made a mental note to ask Sampson for help the next time he came by, hoping he'd vouch for them. But she knew her father would never leave. To leave the farm meant leaving the last traces of her mother and there was no way he would give that up. Exhausted, she began to drift off, her eyelids growing heavy when a low growl from the foot of her bed snapped her awake.
"Shh Dogmeat" she soothed, patting him gently "It's okay, go back to sleep."
Dogmeat lay still for a moment. His ears pricked towards the door. Another rumble emitting from his chest. Ella sat up, a wave of unease rippling through her as she glanced around the dim room.
"What is it, boy?"
Hackles raised, Dogmeat got to his feet, sniffing at the crack beneath the door. His growl intensified, vibrating with urgency before erupting into a flurry of barking. Ella's heart pounded as she threw back the covers, grabbing the torch from her bedside table. Dogmeat's barks grew louder, more insistent as she stumbled towards the door. With trembling fingers, she slowly opened the door, the creak of its hinges echoing down the empty hallway when Dogmeat pushed past her, disappearing down the stairs.
"Dogmeat wait!"
Her heart lurched, her feet barely touching the steps as she raced after him. Her pulse pounding in her ears as she reached the bottom of the stairs to find the front door ajar, the blackness of the night staring back at her.
"Dad?"
There was no reply. Her father's chair sat empty in the weak beam of her torch, a wave of dread washing over her. Whatever had disturbed Dogmeat was out there, lurking in the darkness and where was her father? Was he out there too?
Fear rooted her to the spot when Dogmeat's bark pierced the night, propelling her forward. She plunged into the night, the cold air biting her skin as she followed the frantic barking through the towering razor grain, the stems crunching beneath her feet as she ran.
Suddenly, gunfire rang out. Ella froze, her breath, sharp frosty puffs mingling with darkness as she tried to work out where the shots were coming from when she heard it – a branch snapping behind her.
She whirled around, her torch slicing through the darkness to reveal a shadowy figure looming behind her. His masked face and scavenged armour illuminated in the feeble light of her torch.
Raiders.
She ran, her torch casting wild shadows as gunfire crackled around her, the sound of voices growing louder. Finally burst from the field, her heart plummeting as she saw her father kneeling on the ground, flanked by three raiders, their weapons drawn.
"DAD!"
He turned at the sound of her voice. His face twisting in desperation as he saw her running towards him. "ELLA NO -!"
Bang.
Her fathers' eyes locked with hers one last time as blood trickled down his face before he crumpled forward, lifeless.
Ella's scream tore through the night as the raiders circled his fallen body.
"What a waste" one of them muttered, nudging her father's body with his boot "Call it in."
Ella's sobs caught in her throat as the raider's gaze shifted to her, his eyes cold and soulless. He was tall and lean, clean shaven with a slit across his left brow. He tilted his head, the movement slow and deliberate as if considering something. The stillness of his body was unnerving – while the others shifted and fidgeted, he remained eerily still, his eyes locked on hers.
"Bring her."
Her heart dropped as the others turned their attention to her. Getting to her feet, she spun on her heel, sprinting into the night. The raiders gave chase, their footsteps close behind her when she was slammed into from behind, the torch flying from her hand as they tumbled to the ground.
Desperate, she lashed out, landing a kick to her attacker's sternum. Pain shot through her shin but she scrambled to her feet when a hand shot out, yanking her back.
"Where do you think you're going?" The raider's taunted, his grip like iron as he pulled her against his chest.
"Let go of me!" Ella thrashed but the raider was too strong, laughing at feeble attempts. "You're coming with us.
Ella screamed as he hauled her away when a flash of black and tan launched from the shadows. The raider cried out as Dogmeat's teeth sank into his arm, giving Ella the moment she needed to break free.
"Dogmeat, come!" she cried, her sobs ragged and desperate, but he didn't follow, tearing into flesh and fabric as she fled into the unyielding darkness of the wasteland.