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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 · Video Games
Not enough ratings
222 Chs

Vol. ll Chapter 18 “I’m pretty sure my skull is bulletproof.”

Chapter 18 "I'm pretty sure my skull is bulletproof."

The streets grew narrow and the layout more chaotic the closer they got to the Tower. Stalls gave way to homes. Open spaces with people sat on benches. Chipped wood on the ground and shaped pipes being climbed on by noisy children.

At the base of the Tower sat a deputy at a small table, supposedly guarding the entrance. "No long guns." The deputy barely glanced up from his book. Rosie thought they could have slipped past, but Charlie walked right up to him. Charlie took her carbine off, placed the muzzle on the edge of a bucket of earth. She pulled the magazine and cleared the chamber, then laid it on the table. Rosie did the same.

"We'll leave our bags too." Charlie nodded to Rosie and she handed over her pack. Glad to be rid of the weight, and not looking forward to the walk home.

The ground floor of the Tower held another market. Smaller, less busy, and selling things of a much more practical nature. Cups and plates, blankets, cushions, things the residents would need. Rosie picked up a bundle of coloured pencils and a roll of wallpaper, knowing Matt would get use out of them too. It felt easier to buy things for others than herself.

Rosie looked around while they waited for the central construction lift. The people looked happy, not rushing, no one telling them what to do. The sight pulled a pang of resentment out of Rosie that she didn't like. The shuddering, slow moving lift brought out memories that sharpened the resentment into anger. She didn't want to feel it but there it sat. Like a screw tightening in her mind, pulling her hands into fists and tensing her jaw.

The lift came to a clunking stop. "We're here." Charlie shook Rosie by the shoulders, more excited than she'd been all day. The lift opened onto the ninth floor. Potted plants with green leaves in the corner, the sound of running water, a woman in white behind a desk.

"Ladies, welcome to Cloud Nine. How can we help you?" The young woman seemed warm and inviting.

"Is Katherine available?" Charlie asked. The woman behind the desk flicked through her papers.

"Yes, room seven."

"Perfect." Charlie winked and took Rosie by the hand. They walked down a corridor of doors until they found room seven.

Floor to ceiling windows gave a scenic view south. High above the walls of Shadowtown, yet low enough to make out details beyond. A single strip of faded black running south. A winding ribbon of shimmering water. Open spaces, concrete ruins and red canopy covering the rest.

Inside room seven lay a long table, padded with a hole for a face. Plush leather seats with plastic tubs of water at the feet. "Put this on." Charlie tossed a soft robe from the peg and started to undress.

"What about…" Rosie tapped the pipboy under her coat, trying not to feel different. A feeling she used to embrace and wear like a badge.

"Trust me." Charlie checked her pistol and slid it into her boot, placing it within reach. Rosie did the same.

"Come in." Charlie answered the knock at the door and an older woman entered. A slight build with long hair.

"I'm Katherine." She stood confidently and put out her hand, to the right of where Charlie stood. Rosie understood, the woman could not see.

"Hi Katherine, it's Charlotte. My husband and I came to see you not too long ago, you helped with his bad shoulder." Charlie shook her hand, glad to see her.

"Oh that's nice. Is he here now?" Katherine cocked her head, sensing another presence in the room.

"No, today I brought my sister Rachel. She needs to unwind because she's driving everyone at work nuts." Charlie and Katherine shared a laugh.

"Well we can't have that can we. Please Rachel, take a seat." Rosie sat staring out the window to the south. Kath sat at her feet and began to massage them. Rosie's discomfort faded instantly as the woman's hands forced the tension from the muscles. She thought of John, how he would rub her feet after a long day. Frankly he's been doing a poor job, she thought, laughing to herself.

"Now soak your feet for an hour. No more, no less." Kath pulled the plastic container of water closer, running her expert fingers around the edge to find the switch. The water bubbled and grew warmer, the tension slipping away.

Katherine set to work on Charlie's back rubbing her shoulders vigorously, almost painfully, to work free the knots of stress.

"Your turn." Charlie said as she stood by the window, using hand signals to say that she would keep an eye on Kath to make sure she didn't touch the pipboy. Rosie lay on the padded table with her back exposed and a towel round her forearm just in case. Rosie flinched as a stranger's hands touched her.

"Relax. I've seen it all before." Katherine's joke and laugh put her at ease.

"Someone so pretty shouldn't be this angry." Katherine worked Rosie's shoulders, pushing into the muscle.

"I keep telling her that." Charlie sounded playful, but Rosie remembered the lesson for the shallow river. She tried to interject, but only a yelp of pain left her mouth.

"If it's hurting that means it's working." Katherine sounded like she'd said that many times before. Rosie began to feel her muscles ease, the untied knots bringing relief through her whole body. It felt like she'd been tense for years.

"Alright." Katherine stepped back. "Rest here for a while, it's not busy. Warm towels on the shoulders, ten minutes on, ten minutes off."

"Thank you." Rosie managed to say, although that took effort she could hardly muster.

"You're a lifesaver Katherine. Here, a tip." Charlie handed over the two hundred or so caps, embracing Katherine at the same time. She left and Charlie sat next to Rosie, their feet soaking in bubbling, fragrant water.

"Thank you for bringing me here." Rosie didn't turn her head, she kept staring out at the view.

"I should be thanking you, you're paying." Charlie let out a deep relaxed sigh. "Last time we were here she told Paul he needed to lose weight. He sulked for three days, but his shoulder felt better than it had in years."

Rosie's backpack felt lighter as she pulled it on, so much so that she checked the contents, finding everything she'd bought still there.

"How much do you have left?" Charlie asked. Rosie paid five hundred caps to the woman at the desk in Cloud Nine and would have gladly paid double.

"Fifteen hundred. Shouldn't we save some?" Rosie had no idea what to do with the rest.

"Not today." Charlie didn't even entertain the idea.

"Can we buy something for the boys then?" That seemed easier to Rosie. Charlie nodded.

"I think they'd like that. We'll take the long way, pick up the food and head out."

Buying for others seemed more fun somehow to Rosie. The crowds had eased and the volume of noise dropped. It made a second lap of the market far more enjoyable. Rosie picked out a green canvas holdall, handles on either end so that it could be carried easily by two people. At the next stall she found a leather jacket near identical to Charlie's, a little big for her but Charlie said Matt could adjust it.

Rosie picked out a book for Paul, Charlie's laugh told her she'd got it right. Another bundle of pencils and roll of wallpaper just for Matt, but she didn't have any idea what to get for Brandon. We notice things, she thought, making a mental note to be more observant like the others. More considerate.

Rosie tried to think about what she knew about Brandon, almost nothing, then she thought about his habits. After asking a nearby trader Rosie found a stall that sold cigars. Charlie kept her disapproval to herself as Rosie picked out a single cigar. She thought about buying one of the cutters or cases, but knew she could make better ones. Then she saw something that brought a smile to her face, and guessed it would do the same for Brandon.

After collecting the food order, and spending the last of her caps on five pairs of matching sunglasses, Rosie and Charlie left Shadowtown by the south gate as the sun began to set. An hour later they had a dark canopy stretched overhead.

"Alright." Charlie dumped her end of the hold all and her pack on the edge of a clearing. "I know you've been dying to try that remote pilot function…" Charlie trailed off as Rosie shifted uncomfortably, staring at her boots. "Rosie, talk to me." She did, and explained the steps she'd need to take. Charlie squeezed Rosie's hands in hers. "It'll be alright. I promise. Let's get back."

"I can still call the Velo." Rosie thought it might actually provide some useful data.

"That's your call." Charlie kept her face neutral. Rosie dove into the remote override systems and re-established the link with the Velo. Her vision filled with the view from the aircraft nose as it silently lifted into the night. Once airborne the autopilot took over.

"Velo inbound, twelve minutes." Rosie sat on the soft earth and saw Charlie try not to ask, then asked anyway.

"How much?"

"Six percent. Thirty five remaining."

The Velo needed a direct override to land, Charlie guided Rosie as she split her focus between the nose camera and the view from the ground. Charlie flew them back without a word, Rosie felt bad about ruining her day. Our day, she thought.

"I'm going to bring the boys up, we'll sit out and talk ok?" Rosie nodded and lingered on the short walk back to the lighthouse, carrying both packs and dragging the hold all. She took the time to compose what she'd say, trying to think like Brandon, he always spoke clearly and to the point.

Matt came out first, striding over to her. Paul followed and to Rosie's delight, Brandon. All three dressed in their black fatigues. Charlie came out last, standing next to Rosie.

"As of right now the fusion core that powers my pipboy is at thirty three percent." A look of indifference flashed among everyone but Rosie and Charlie. "A month ago it was seventy."

"Rosie, we've got cores, the Brotherhood runs on them." Brandon's calm helped her.

"Shit, I bet we've got twenty here." Paul added. Something looked different about him, but Rosie couldn't place it so pressed on.

"There's a protocol to change them, that's not the issue." Rosie drew a deep breath and tried to look up from her boots, if only for a moment. "I can pull a residual charge as long as it doesn't drop below ten percent. But if it drops below that, I won't be able to walk, talk, fight. Or risk changing it myself. Without power…" Charlie took her hand.

"After you saved me, when I woke up I knew something had changed. The code inside. I could see a sliver of it, just enough to know that I had to…" Rosie tried not to slip into technobabble, especially as Matt's face had begun to worry her. "I had to set it free. To do that I had to crash it, and without power." She looked to Charlie. "You said it was like a seizure."

"I said it was like the worst fucking seizure I've ever seen." Charlie made her point in a way Rosie couldn't. "You remember Matt?" He nodded, then kept his head down.

"It felt like my bones were made of burning glass, shattering from the heat. Like every nerve of my body had been sliced open." Rosie wondered how close that might be to the truth. "I couldn't think, all I wanted in that moment was for somebody to shoot me in the head." Rosie tried to block the tears with amusement at her words. "But I'm pretty sure my skull is bulletproof." Charlie handed her the pack from the ground, with a look that brought Rosie more comfort than anything else she could have imagined in that moment.

"I've done the calculations." Rosie pulled the heavy metal orb from the pack and held it for them to see, the pin rattling as her hands shook. "The...under the chin...blast wave…" Brandon took the grenade from her hands and set it down. As he did, Rosie saw Matt's back as he strode inside. Too much for him, she thought, knowing his feelings towards the device on her arm and in her head.

"Rosie, listen to me." Brandon took her face in his calloused hands, staring into her eyes, breathing slowly to get her to do the same. "We will not let it come to that." Rosie believed him with every instinct she had. All that time around lairs made truth even more powerful. "We—" Matt emerged almost running from the lighthouse, an armful of yellow cylinders clutched to his chest.

"We'll all carry one." Matt handed out the fusion cores that Rosie would need to live, pressing them into everyone's hand in turn. Leaving her till last.

"One of each." Rosie kicked the backpack at her feet, rattling metal against metal. "I don't know how long it would...I could be stuck like that for…please."

"If you stopped, that would have to help right?" Brandon brought up something Rosie hadn't even considered.

"No." Rosie's answer seemed to throw Brandon. "I mean yes, it would. And no, I'm not stopping." Rosie saw a flicker of disagreement and sought to quash it. "The things I can do mean I'm taking less risk than you. And honestly, the things I've done, the things I've learned...I love it. I've never felt more alive than I had these last couple of months." Rosie saw them recognise in her what they saw in each other. A desire to live on the edge, to push themselves and each other, to do the impossible.

"You heard the lady. One of each." Brandon gave her words as a command, Rosie picked up the grenade first.

"Yes Boss."

"Give us a minute." Charlie pulled Rosie aside as the others went in.

"I'm proud of you." Charlie whispered as she hugged her tight.

"I actually feel a bit better." Rosie didn't realise how much she'd feared that pain until now.

"Good. Listen, forget about all that now. It's still your day so I want you to put on your new dress, and shoes, then have a drink with the boys." Charlie gave her the sense that it would help. "Please." She asked, Rosie nodded.

The creases fell from the white fabric as Rosie slipped on the dress she'd chosen for herself. She twirled in the night, watching the skirt sway, feeling the cool air on her legs and back.

She went downstairs with her boots on, watching Charlie's expression lift as she fidgeted at dress. She put her hand on the door when Charlie stopped her. "Shoes." She dangled the glossy red high heels then set them at her feet.

"Are they supposed to hurt?" Rosie teetered on the heels, wondering how the women in the faded magazine danced with these on.

"Yep. But it's worth it." Charlie couldn't keep the laugh from her voice. "Do you want to practise?"

"No, I," Rosie took a single step and nearly fell. "Yes."

"Heel, toe. Heel, toe." Charlie couldn't stop laughing. "Go on, it's just a few steps."

Rosie pushed open the steel door to her home in the cellar of the lighthouse. Her heels clacking on the stone floor.

"Surprise!" Everyone shouted, causing her to flinch and stagger. They had changed into smart clothes from the private Vault below and donned cone shaped hats made of bright paper. Even Janey wore one.