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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 · 游戏衍生
分數不夠
223 Chs

Vol. III Chapter 76 The Eastern Gate

Chapter 76 The Eastern Gate

"I don't get it." Rosie said, peering out over the chaos below.

"It's like a small train, only the track goes into spirals and big drops." Charlie moved her hand through the air, demonstrating the movement. "Some of them used to pull two or three G's."

"And people rode these rollercoasters for fun?" Rosie asked, still sceptical about the whole thing.

"They did." Charlie answered. "Bet it was pretty fun though."

Rosie tried to think of more distracting conversation. Easier than thinking about John down there in the thick of things. Fortunately a series of explosions meant the time for distractions had come to an end.

"Whirlwind to all scouts." Charlie spoke over the comm. "Stay flexible. Adapt and overcome. Good hunting." Charlie looked through her scope then went back to the binoculars. Rosie zoomed her view.

From the bluff she could see everything. Cloudless sky and pale moonlight. Open space became dotted with more and more blocks. Five foot mesh cages filled with rubble. Some arranged in seemingly random positions. Most stacked double forming an intricate maze that blocked the eastern gate.

Hundreds of mutants spilled round from the south. Their path blocked by a wall, slowing their advance. More and more piled round. "Whirlwind to blue team. Fire at will."

Thunderous high calibre gunfire ripped through the night and green flesh alike. The volume of fire and well hidden machine gun nests made twenty scouts seem like two hundred. "Tornado, go." Charlie set her loose.

Rosie sprinted down to ground level, finding the ammo dump. She'd baulked at being given such a menial task, now she saw the wisdom in it. Every second those guns fired, mutants went down. She grabbed two heavy bags and zipped across the open space in the dreamlike state.

Rosie darted back and forth, humping ammo. The faster she moved, the heavier the bags felt in her arms. She made dozens of trips, hauled hundreds of rounds, before her legs gave out.

"Easy there, slick." A scout she recognised pulled her into cover behind the pillbox. He held out a water canteen, grinning. "How exactly do you drink in that get up?"

"Like this." Rosie dipped her finger in the canteen, drawing water through the capillaries in the shadow suit.

"Take a minute." He ducked back inside. Rosie got to her feet.

"Whirlwind to all scouts." Charlie came over comm. "Greenskins are withdrawing. We've got irregulars moving in. Cobalt, Brimstone, I want your teams on hvt's. Anyone looks like they're giving orders gets an extra hole in the head. Blue team, standby. Red team, these fuckers threw in with mutants. Good hunting."

Rosie found Matt at the ammo dump. "You good?" He asked, picking up on something.

"I'm fine." Rosie lied. Her injuries were taking a toll. She pulled on her vest, trying not to let her reduced movement show. "Ready."

Raiders, ghouls, mercenaries, all had sided with Jones. Rosie caught herself wondering why, for almost a whole second. Then Rosie realised she didn't care. Going through them got her closer to Jones.

Targets began filtering in through the narrow gaps that kept the mutants out. Rosie and Matt hopped up and over on the opposite side. Alongside eight more scouts. They split into pairs, each with a section of the maze memorised.

Rosie levelled her suppressed carbine, turning the corner smoothly. Half a dozen raiders, in what passed for a squad, crossed her path. She doubled back, getting round them and waiting at a junction. She noticed how alert they seemed, focused even. Certainly better equipped than usual.

She span through the pathway, slicing a throat as she passed. The slumping, gurgling body thudded, turning the others. Matt picked off another with a headshot. They took off, running over their dead. Rosie leapt from one wall to the other, rolling flat and out of sight. "This is Tornado. Four headed to main street."

The maze had been built around a long pathway. Running nearly the full length, with only one way in. More scouts checked in with more targets. Rosie picked off strays, nipping at the heels of others with automatic fire. Herding them like cattle.

"Tornado to all scouts. Closing main street in three." Rosie sent the signal. "Two." She ducked into cover. "One." At the bottom of the long pathway, Janey sat bolt upright from the shallow grave like hole. A beam of searing red light shot forth, carving through body after body.

Rosie hopped over the wall, landing next to Janey. Boots with smouldering stumps littered the pathway. Bodies with torsos burnt out. Severed heads with terrified faces.

"A highly efficient process." Janey sounded almost pleased.

"Lie back down, we'll hit them again." Rosie thought Janey seemed annoyed for a moment, then hinged back down. She pushed the loose rocks back over her, leaving a space so she could see. "This is Tornado. Main street is open for business."

Hours passed, wave after wave fell in the deathtrap of Rosie's design. "Looks like they're getting bored of dying." Charlie spoke over the comm as the enemy withdrew. "Blue and red hold here. Cyclone, Tornado, on me."

They regrouped by the ammo dump. "I'm not going to order you two." Charlie said as Matt and Rosie geared up. Matt took the fifty cal, Rosie carried the ammo.

"Stood ready." Matt spoke for them both.

The three of them moved swift and silent in the dark, Rosie on point. They headed south. Past the cratered ground outside the southern gate. Heading wide to get behind what passed for enemy lines.

The horde had ambled round to the west, massing in the treeline. She knew Jones had to be among them, marshalling them.

Behind them, the few dozen raiders left clustered round fire pits. Some seemed upbeat, others less so. Enough firepower between them that they were still a problem.

They infiltrated the pump station on the bend of the river. Rosie set up the rifle, sliding the box mag in and easing the bolt forward. Charlie and Matt peered through binoculars. "He doesn't move like them." Rosie looked from beady yellow eyes to rictus grimace. "His eyes are different. Alert, angry."

"The Boss would have loved this." Matt said out loud what they were all thinking. "Textbook Recon op."

"Possible target." Charlie pushed past the lump in her throat. "My ten o'clock. Six hundred metres, stood in front of the treeline."

"Negative." Rosie found the target. "He knows not to stay still."

An hour passed, a dozen targets ruled out. "Maybe we're going about this backwards." Matt had an idea. "I'll prod them, see what happens."

"I'll go." Rosie volunteered.

"No, I want you on Jones. You've got the best chance at an id." Charlie looked less than pleased but didn't have a better idea. "Go."

Rosie blinked twice, activating her night vision. Dark night shifting to bright green. Even with the amplified light, she struggled to track Matt. He moved from tree to tree, getting behind the entire army of hundreds.

"I see crates, they're stockpiling something." Matt whispered over the comm. Rosie couldn't see him, only the shifting wall of green. "Going to stir things up. Firing." Matt squeezed off a single subsonic round from his suppressed carbine. Little more than an annoyance to the mutant it hit in the back.

The angered brute turned, advancing on the nearest person it saw. The pack of raiders went on the defensive. Shouting with guns levelled as the mutant closed in.

"I got him." Matt spoke over the comm. "He's moving in."

"No shot, moving." Rosie heaved the rifle across, laying in the open. "No shot." She flicked from figure to figure, trying to find her target.

"I'm going to lose him." Matt's composure began to slip.

"No shot." Rosie couldn't pick out a single face in the crowd of near identical copies.

"Pull back Cyclone. Copy?" Charlie ordered him out. A tense silence followed.

"For the Boss." Matt's voice filled with rage. "Engaging."

"Negative Cycl—" Gunfire cut Charlie off.

Matt fired and moved, Rosie caught sight of the muzzle flashes. She saw what he fired at and recognised Jones, fleeing for the cover of the horde. Metallic thunderclaps echoed into the night as Rosie fired. Again and again rounds struck green flesh, but she couldn't be sure.

Quiet returned, punctured by a bone chilling howl. "They bred hounds." Matt had fear in his voice, followed by breathlessness as he ran. "They're on me!" Rosie forced herself to stay calm. Between the trees she caught sight of something. Low and fast, swollen musculature, rows of fangs set in fearsome jaws.

Rosie fired the rest of the mag, struggling to hit the rapidly moving creatures. She dropped two, Matt shot another dead, then one leapt for him. She forced herself into the dreamlike state, targeting the beast in mid air. She fired. A fraction of a second too late.

The mutated hound clamped its jaws around Matt's forearm. Right before the bullet hit. The impact killed the beast, flinging its body back. Taking Matt's arm with it.

"Go." Charlie snarled to an empty space where Rosie had been, then bolted after her.

Rosie's shoulder felt like it was being sawn through. Her injuries worsened by the heavy rifle and superhuman speed she moved at. Within seconds she found him. Matt's face appeared near frozen in excruciating agony. His arm missing below the elbow and gouts of blood pouring out.

Rosie put herself under his good arm and moved as fast as possible. The faster she moved, the more blood Matt lost. She had to stop, mutated hounds and their masters close behind. Time snapped back as Rosie wrenched a tourniquet and tight and jabbed Matt in the thigh with an injector.

"Velo's inbound. Four minutes." It sounded like an eternity. She took Matt's grenades and reloaded the carbine, wedging it under his right arm. "Shoot!" He did. Rosie span and aimed the heavy rifle, firing from a knee. She missed and nearly fell backwards. Rosie pulled the pin on a grenade, holding her palm flat as the handle pinged away. The second felt like a minute. She tossed it forward, throwing herself over Matt.

The grenade blew in mid air. Rosie felt the blast, speckled with painful impacts. The blastwave and shrapnel took out the last pair of hounds. She used the few seconds to lay flat, and start hitting targets. Charlie appeared, checking on the barely conscious Matt.

"Velo inbound, two minutes, hundred metres back. Go." Rosie kept firing, loading the last mag.

"What about you?" Charlie shouted, already moving.

"I'll go for the gate." Rosie dropped two more mutants and displaced.

Rosie took control as the autopilot refused to land. She slammed the Velo down through the canopy, breaking branches and crash landing. Seconds later Charlie flew Matt out, headed for the emergency medical station at the Rest.

Rosie fired until one round remained. She pushed herself to dart from tree to tree, pausing just long enough to rule out possible targets. Rosie knew her quarry wouldn't be caught so easily.

It took all her strength to get to the treeline. An adjugated army at her back. Open ground ahead of her. She caught sight of movement. A figure stomping from the gate, flanked by four others. She read John's play, drew her sidearm and took off the suppressor.

Loud pops and bullets that stung like insects rattled the horde. She saw something holding them back, and fired at the edges. Her provocation broke away a few dim witted mutants, followed by a few more. She broke into a run, pounding footsteps closing in.

Streaks of light ripped through the dark as the miniguns opened fire. Rosie kept running at John as his team put rounds past her. He started running towards her, warhammer gripped tight. She could feel her pace flagging, the monsters gaining.

"Down!" John roared as the armour towered over her. Rosie threw herself into a slide. John rammed the power armour shoulder plate into the mutant's face. It fell flat on its back, an under arm swing cracking its head open.

Rosie scrambled into a firing position as John used his warhammer to devastating effect. The rest of his team spread out, advancing while laying down heavy fire. She scanned the treeline, trying to find her target. The dozens of mutants she'd drawn out went down, cut to bloody pieces.

"Reload and fall back." Sara barked, turning to guide the others as they walked backwards. Not something easily done in power armour.

Tiredness and worry hit her as soon as the gate closed behind them. "You ok?" John asked her after he exited his armour.

"We had to casevac Matthew." Rosie looked to Sara. She watched the dread hit her, then saw her push past it. Locking down her feelings to remain effective. Rosie tried to follow her example.

"He'll be fine." Sara reassured them both. "I need a report."

"Jones is out there." Rosie knew she didn't get him. "Hundreds of greenskins, dozens of raiders. Hounds." She saw a glimpse of fear from John.

"We all knew this wouldn't end without a fight." Sara growled, her voice steady and loud. "Gear up, let's get it started."