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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

FourPin · Videojogos
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223 Chs

Vol. ll Chapter 50 “It ain’t worth it.”

Chapter 50 "It ain't worth it Red, believe me."

John woke at six as usual, slipping from the too soft bed without waking Rosie. He found Louisa outside, stretching, warming up for her morning run. John remembered that first morning at the Rest fondly.

"It's not a race." He said, doing his own stretches.

"Sure it's not." Louisa smiled, then started running the perimeter wall. John kept pace with ease, even as Louisa sped up on the final stretch.

"I still won." Louisa panted after two laps.

"I thought it wasn't a race." John laughed, his breathing back to normal already.

"You're heading out today right?" She asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah. I'm going to see a friend in Farmborough about getting people set up out there." John felt pride at seeing Louisa smile. "But first we're going to stop at this lake I know...and I'm going to ask Rosie to marry me."

"You know what means right?" Louisa asked, her excitement contained. John explained what he knew and took Louisa's smiles and tears as confirmation he was right. "I'm so happy for you both!"

"Do you think she'll say yes?" John asked, not entirely joking. He didn't get an answer, just a laugh as Louisa walked away.

An hour later John waited by the gate for Rosie. "John!" Wallace yelled, running out to meet him. "Rosie said you're going away?" John saw the worry on the boy's face. Rosie followed him, her expression awkward.

"Yeah, but only for a few days, a week at the most." John hadn't seen him this worried before.

"Rosie said you're going to where the Brotherhood are." Wallace's worry became clear, as did Rosie's look. She'd said the wrong thing. John knelt, making eye contact.

"There's a lot of people in Farmborough, and yes some of them are Brotherhood. You're a smart boy Wallace, you know that it's dangerous outside these walls." Better than most, John thought. "And you know that we wouldn't go anywhere without you here, keeping everyone safe." John didn't lie, not exactly. He told Wallace a truth that would help him. He saw that it did as the boy stood a little taller.

"You're right. I'll see you in a few days." Wallace put out his hand, John hugged him, despite the protests. Wallace turned and Rosie went to hug him. They both awkwardly settled for a fist bump.

"You're good with him." John heard an uncommon hint of disappointment in herself from Rosie.

"I've spent more time with him." He wanted to see her smile. "And I've got a little experience with smart people." She smiled, offering him a fist bump.

"Found this." John panicked for a moment, then Rosie handed him the sentinel steel knuckles. She knew there was something special about them.

"I'll tell you on the way." John tied them to his belt with a quick release knot Sara taught him, telling Rosie about Brotherhood funerals.

They reached Shadowtown by noon, heading almost straight through. The City loomed on the horizon for the rest of the day, ever present as they walked across open ground and collapsed highways. The twisted and contorted structures only vanished as night fell.

"Put those on." Rosie dangled a pair of goggles in front of him, deeply amused by something. He tightened the strap and adjusted the angular, red tinted lenses. John fumbled at the buttons on the side till something clicked.

A faint buzz accompanied the green vision that turned the dark forest bright. It wasn't quite as good as the power armour night vision, but he didn't say that.

"Lightweight." John looked for a compliment, looking at Rosie's glinting eyes. "What about you?" He asked, no longer surprised by the snort of derision. Rosie looked him in the eye and winked. Her eyes went dark, he'd never seen anyone's eyes look like that in the amplified light.

They walked most of the night. John kept up, but Rosie set a harsh pace. "You know this is supposed to be relaxing right?" John quipped. "Maybe even fun."

"You're not having fun?!" Rosie had a look of surprise. John saw how much she loved being somewhere new, setting a good pace.

"Yeah, alright, it's fun." John did like being back out in the field, more so with Rosie at his side.

"I tell you what, we'll rest if you tell me where we're going." Rosie tried to bargain, John knew she didn't like doing that.

"I'll take point." John pushed on, laughing at Rosie's playful frustration at not knowing something.

"Well at least tell me what's in your top pocket." John froze, he thought he'd been careful about touching the ring in his pocket. "We notice things John, that's what Recon do." He smiled and turned, seeing she didn't have a clue, and knowing what was coming next. "I could order you."

"Go ahead." John called her bluff instantly.

"You're being weird." Rosie stopped, more tired than she let on.

"You're wearing a suit than turns invisible and carrying a sword, and I'm being weird." John prodded her, hoping she'd start prattling on about the science behind the suit again.

"You own a sword." Just about the only thing of John's Rosie showed any interest in was the katana Sara gave him.

"Yes, I do." John knew she wanted it, he planned on getting her one when they got to Farmborough.

They rested as the sun came up. Although it didn't get all that bright. John knew they'd been in a forest for miles, yet in the muted morning light it looked different. The trees here were taller, thicker, the leaves broader, green mixed in with paler red. The roots had torn up concrete, trunks growing through buildings, branches escaping through windows to reach the light.

Then the rain started. Water fell through gaps, trickling of leaves and into puddles on the ground. The sound of splashing steps bringing a smile to his face.

"Wait." Rosie stopped, her amusement no longer hidden. "They killed themselves! All forty seven of them?"

"Yes." John regretted bringing up the origin of his call sign.

"So they got their revenge, killed the master who betrayed them, then killed themselves." Rosie scoffed. "And you like this story?"

"Yes." John knew Rosie wouldn't get it. "What's a Tornado anyway?" He asked, wanting to change the subject.

"It's a force of nature." Rosie grinned, very pleased with herself.

"Sara says the same thing." John smiled at seeing that meant something to Rosie. He hoped Sara could meet her. "But what actually is it?" John laughed as Rosie kept walking. "You don't know do you?"

"Not exactly no." Rosie saw the humour in it. "Something to do with a rotating column of air." John saw the look he'd seen more often. "It happens when I, I'll show you. I need to show you a lot of things."

"Come on, it's not far now." John turned without answering, he knew from the terrain they were close, nearly at the plateau that hid the lake. He started to walk along the road that led out and up, then realised Rosie hadn't moved. She had her back to him. John tried to explain.

"Look, We—" A burst of strobing light erupted from the forest. Pulsing reds and green, irregular flashes of white. Like standing in a silent thunderstorm.

John couldn't see. He couldn't move. His fear came absent the rush of adrenaline that normally kickstarted the nightmare, dreamlike state. Rosie! John forced himself to to push against whatever force held him rigid. Every hard drilled and well honed instinct overpowering the resistance implanted in his limbs by the lights.

His first step felt like falling into ice cold water. By the third he could see, and within seconds he'd flung himself towards Rosie, colliding hard and knocking her to the ground. "My system." Rosie looked pale and frightened. Before John could comfort her a sound drew his attention. A sound he knew.

"Hold on!" John grabbed her and ran as the clunk of Sentry bot cannon echoed for the briefest second. Followed by the repeating zips and heavy thuds of incoming, high calibre rounds. Somehow John darted from tree to tree. Thick trunks splintering in his wake. All happening alarmingly fast.

"Rosie!" John shook her by the shoulders.

"My…" She looked confused.

"Mine too." Her held her head in his hands. "We don't need it."

He handed her the fully automatic pistol from his back, drawing his own rose carved pistol. "It's not a bot, too steep, and not nearly accurate enough." John peered through the trees and thought he saw movement. "Rosie." She still looked dazed. "Tornado!" John snarled. That brought her round for an instant. "Cover me and fall back. I'll push them to you, then we flank. Copy?" She nodded. He wanted to kiss her, but he promised himself to do that after.

Rosie laid down ripping bursts of fire, with enough accuracy to give John time. He bounded through the uneven terrain, grateful for every punishing second of Sentinel Grimm's lessons. Casings too large to be missed led him to tracks in the mud. In the distance he heard more pistol fire and smashing of glass. He saw the weapon fired at him. Only the arm of a Sentry bot, modified, and with an added handle. Now out of ammo and tossed aside.

Carbine fire answered a burst of submachine gun rounds. Rosie had gotten to the gear bags. The sound of more exchanges rang out, drawing John closer. Then the fire came his way.

A single attacker retreated from Rosie. Dressed in a long, hooded coat. Patterned with green and brown blobs. And they were firing with precision. Trained, John thought, slowing his pace and waiting for the reload.

He heard the attacker's carbine run dry, and bolted. John emptied a full magazine of forty five calibre bullets in seconds, and the attacker shrugged them off. He darted into cover, reloading and peeling out smoothly. Nothing!

John aimed to the left and right, rigid and firm footed, finding no trace of the attacker. A faint buzz from behind him snapped John round as a long, thin blade stabbed at him from a shimmer. He turned just in time, deflecting the blow with a mailed sleeve. John's training brought his hand to the steel knuckles on his belt. He slipped his hand in and snatched, unleashing savage body blows that did more damage than the bullets. The attacker took them well, countering with kicks and more well aimed stabs at John's throat.

They traded blows back and forth. Until John landed his boot on the attacker's foot and whirled an elbow into the face. The hooded attacker staggered back, and then John saw how Rosie earned her name.

Water streaked from the ground, leaves fluttered in the air, left in her wake. She stood before him, visor up, the attacker's weapon gripped in her hand. John saw a triple pronged claw, a spike sticking out from the centre, then he heard a pained, rasping yelp.

John stood over the attacker, his robotic arm severed and twin axes driven into his legs above the knees. John pulled the hood away and saw full black eyes he knew "Virgil?!"

"You know this Filth?" Rosie had taken the visor down and her fury had seized her face.

"He's a trader. He's Robco's friend." John saw the ghoul look hurt by that for a moment.

"You can't give it to them!" Virgil rasped, his own rage matching Rosie's.

"Giv—" Rosie cut him off.

"Shut the fuck up John." She ordered.

"Listen to the woman blue eyes." Virgil spat, trying to sow division while reaching with his one arm.

"Keep reaching and I'll take my axes back." John knew Rosie was going to do that anyway. Virgil held up his hand. "Check him." John handed Rosie his pistol and checked Virgil's pockets. He found cigarettes and a bullet dinged flask. "Give them to him." John smelt the contents of the flask, the pre-war whisky.

"Go ahead." Virgil rasped, John took a heavy slug and felt grateful for it. He tossed the cigarettes and lighter over, then Rosie drew him back.

"What did you tell him about the pipboy?" Rosie asked, failing to keep her anger focused on Virgil alone.

"Nothing. Well, I showed him the designs for the parts we needed. But nothing else." John thought about his first day in Shadowtown. "Wait, he had me open a digitally locked safe." Rosie had what she needed and stepped forward.

"Ex-military and Filth. Is this about the Red Hand? Because if you miss your friends I'll happily arrange a meeting." Rosie started with a threat.

"Those fucking savages got what they deserved." Virgil looked disgusted. "You know why I'm out here. I'll kill a hundred of you before I let you take it."

"We're getting paid a lot of money to be out here." Rosie lied well.

"It ain't worth it Red, believe me." Virgil sounded truthful. He lit another a cigarette with the still burning end of last one. "I'm guessing you like clean water and fresh air. Bring the Brotherhood here and all that goes away." Virgil almost begged.

"Vault X belongs to the Brotherhood." Rosie laid her trap and John drew closer.

"Like fuck it does." Full black eyes glared defiantly, unaware he'd given himself away to Rosie.

"Who are you?" Rosie asked a question she knew the answer the to. Virgil's shoulders slumped, his rotten face saddened and looked more human than John had seen him before.

"My name is Burton Blake."

To be continued

There's a small epilogue and that's it for vol ll. Thanks for reading and commenting.

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