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Fallout: Vault X

An original novel set in the Fallout universe, written to be accessible to all, featuring unique people and places Fallout: Vault X tells the story of John. A vault dweller, who spent every day of his twenty five years underground. Like his father, and his father before him. Proud to live in the last remaining bastion of humanity, all that survived The Great War of the atomic age. Hidden deep below the surface of the earth, toiling under brutal conditions. Year after year, decade upon decade. All to expand into the natural cave system the Vault occupied, building for the future. However, John knew what his forefathers did not, that everything he’d been taught was a lie. After finishing school at the age of ten, John received his standard issue pipboy. An arm mounted personal computer, worn by everyone in the Vault. Used to coordinate the relentless pace of expansion, needed to work as an apprentice. To learn the craft that would be his life’s work. A noble calling to ensure a future for all that remained of the human race. A quirk of fate saw John equipped not with the crude, clunky, pipboy model his father wore. That almost everyone around him wore. His looked smaller, sleeker, finished in a jet black sheen. And capable of doing far more than its drab counterparts. The world above had been ravaged by atomic flames, yet life clung to its bones. The Red Valley fared better than most in the century since the bombs fell. The clean water and rich soil protected by rolling hills. All spared from direct strikes, for the most part. Life survived here. Trees spawned from charred ground, misshapen, green leaves turned red. Along with simple crops, grown wild at first, then cultivated by the survivors. The scavengers of the old world were inventive, hardy people. All determined to rebuild in the ruins of a world they never knew. In the decades that passed settlements emerged. They grew, spreading along the valley floor. Reclaiming the pre-war remnants of the once industrialised heartland. Salvaging the robotic wonders of a bygone age to build their walls and work their fields. To protect them in the dark of the wasteland. But such things are uncommon in this world, and the rarer something is, the greater its value. And the worth of pre-war technology had not gone unnoticed. The last, real, power in this world rested in the mechanised hands of The Brotherhood of Steel. Forged from the mortally wounded old world military. The Brotherhood used its access to the weapons made for a conflict no one won to strike out into the wastes. Men and women were equipped with advanced armour, aerial transportation, high grade weaponry. Accompanied by the training, strength, and will, to put them to use. They established chapters and set up outputs far and wide. All dedicated to a single purpose. To ensure the technology left abandoned by its long dead creators didn’t fall into the wrong hands. Namely, any hands that were not their own. This is the world John escaped into. A place of horrors brought forth from atomic fire. A place where survival meant battling against the darkness. Fighting a war each day to get to the next. And war...war never changes

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Vol. III Chapter 72 Riding Shotgun (Part 1 of 2)

Chapter 71 Riding Shotgun

John surveyed the evacuation route from the air, learning out of the gunner's seat. Once the convoy left the surroundings of Shadowtown, it turned into a straight shot. Right down the eight lane blacktop. The same journey he had made.

Knights were stationed in teams every few miles. Holding possible choke points, junctions and any structures that served them. Sheriffs walked the civilians along in groups. Some of the deputies were heading back to town. Most stayed at the Vault.

He got dropped outside the Rest. Freshly cut sections of forest serving as landing pads. Half were empty, birds in the air covering the convoy.

John spent the previous day flying back and forth. He'd taken everyone from the Rest, from their homes. John left them in the place he'd spent most of his life. That had never felt like home to him. Not like his house in the Rest.

Only two residents remained. Grimm and Robco, both working on the truck. "I can fly you both out whenever you're ready." John sounded apologetic.

"Yeah, we got to talking." Robco kept working. "Seems to me you'll need someone bringing up the rear of this convoy. Make sure folks get there safe." He looked at John and then to Grimm.

"I'm riding shotgun." Grimm gave him a nod. All three knew the risk of being a rear guard

"Thank you" John couldn't stop them.

"You should rest while you can." Grimm suggested.

"I'll press some shells." John made himself useful.

Hours passed, leaving little to do. John got updates on the progress of the convoy. "Come on. Might as well make ourselves useful." Robco hated seeing the Rest empty. He started the truck, John got into his armour, leaving his helmet off.

John shut the gate behind them, seeing the pain in Robco's face as he looked back. "We're coming back. I promise."

"I love this place." Robco turned from the home he'd built. "But your Rosie is right. It's just wood and metal." He revved the truck and headed for the road.

People streamed by for hours. Scared and hurried. Old folks riding on bot pulled carts. Children kept quiet and close. Livestock herded along. John watched them all from the side of the road. Robco helped him hand out all the food that wouldn't keep.

Soon the end of the line came into view, a lone armoured knight bringing up the rear. "Boss." John felt relieved to see Sara. Helmet off, sunglasses on.

"Thought I'd take a walk, get some fresh air. Would you care to join me?" Her smile and manner hid the nerves.

"Sure thing." John replied. Robco started the truck, the rolling clank driving onto the road.

"You know, I kind of thought today would be relaxing. I didn't realise you were bringing the world's loudest scrap pile." Sara shouted, jokingly. "What's in there anyway?" They all looked to Robco.

"Take a look." He brought the truck to a stop. John stood at the back with Sara. She opened the canvas curtain and went pale. The truck started again.

Noon came and went. The convoy kept moving ahead. John and Sara at the rear. They dismissed knights as they went. Air support swooping in and running them back to town. Worth it to save their strength.

"Boss, we got a problem." Jen came over the comm from the Vault. "Cargo lift is stuck, techs need an hour."

"Solid copy. Get it unstuck quick, we can't have people bunching up outside." Sara replied.

"They're already queuing up outside Boss." Jen's tone did not inspire confidence. "An extra couple of birds wouldn't hurt."

"You'll have them." Sara switched channels.

"Jen, Ronin. There are houses they can wait in. Comes to it there's an emergency ladder in the security booth. How copy?" John added.

"I'll look into it, thanks." Jen hurried off.

"She sounds stressed." Sara knew the tone well. "Can I ask, that ladder..." She trailed off, not wanting to push.

"Yeah, that's how I got out." John answered, thinking about the day he escaped.

"Took grit, doing what you did." Sara looked him in the eye. Sara rarely spoke of his life before they met. "There's worse places you could have found yourself." She let out a deep breath, taking in the trees and sky.

"Yeah." John still felt lucky to have met her.

The road climbed then dipped as it stretched out ahead. It allowed John to see three groups of civilians, delays making them bunch up into one group of thousands. "What do we do?" John asked.

"Nothing we can do. It'd take longer to separate them all." Sara kept walking. "Wait, can you do that thing Rosie does with that bot?"

"I can control it." John answered.

"We should stop, set up an overwatch. Then double time it to the next hill and do it again." Sara went to bang on the truck and hesitated, letting out a sharp whistle instead.

None of them spoke. The only sound, a faint knocking. John looked round and saw Robco's leg shaking. "Try to relax." John looked up at his friend, sat atop the truck cab.

"It's one thing to watch out for trouble. Another to expect it." Robco knew the dangers of the wastes, but this felt different. "I don't know how you people do it."

"Practice." Grimm answered, putting his binoculars down. He pulled himself up and sat next to his friend. "They cleared the top, ready when you are." Robco started the truck, turning round and descending.

Halfway up the hill, the treads began to screech and struggled to find traction. "Gonna need a push." Robco shouted. John clamped the armour's mechanised hands onto the chassis, Sara copied. Between them and the raw power of the armour, they got the truck moving again.

Gunfire rang out ahead. Followed by returned fire and screaming. "Go, we'll handle this." Grimm yelled. John looked to Sara. In unison they turned outwards and broke into a run, the trucking sliding backwards between them.