Melting Steel ➼ Fallout

Two

❝  I still stand in awe of superficial things  ❞

➼ Wye Oak

I wake with my heart lodged in my throat, eyes snapping open to stare at the metal ceiling, the holes in it shabbily patched up with tape. I let out a breath as I take in my familiar surroundings. I'm not back at that bunker, I don't have that gun to Danse's head, I'm not looking at Maxon's cold face one last time. I'm here, in this small settlement, tucked away in a pre-war caravan.

I roll over, brushing my thick black hair from my eyes and look at the time on the pip-boy, the trusty gadget that has been with me for over a year now. A small crack in the corner of the screen needs to be repaired and so does the fraying straps but it's still in working order, hanging on for dear life after everything I've tossed at the device. I turn it off again when I confirm that it's still far too early to be awake.

I lay on my back, gazing blankly up at the ceiling. Months, that's how long it's been since I left everything I had managed to make for myself behind. Four months, if I've countered correctly. Two weeks since I arrived at this ramshackle settlement and one month since the brotherhood went ahead and destroyed the Institute. They had everything they had needed, I'd given it to them, blind to the fact that they would ruin it all. I had hoped there would be a solution, that I could help come up with one since Shaun was the director but my ideas were all shot down when Maxson decided it all had to be destroyed. Four months since I left Maxson because of his plans and went in search of Danse, Maxon's orders that I was blatantly ignoring looming over my head. Four months, one moment, that's all it took for my life to spiral out of control once again.

I stand up, wanting fresh air to clear my head from such thoughts. I pull on a pair of jeans from the folded pile of clothes in my duffle bag before I swipe up my rifle, confirm the safety is on, position the hat on my head that I found a while back that reminds me of those old western movies I found myself watching late at night when I couldn't sleep during my university days. I slip my socked feet into boots, tie the laces up tightly and frown at the dirt on them.

I step out of the caravan, glancing around the quiet area. I swing the strap of the rifle over my shoulder and march towards the lookout. The settlement is one street with dishevelled – but in the process of being repaired – houses. At the end of the cracked road is the lone watch tower that looks out over the mismatched metal walls and into the surrounding barren wasteland.

I climb up the lookout ladder and nudge the leg of the man sitting there with his gun across his lap. He jolts awake, coughing as he squints up at me. I resist curling a lip at the cigarette butts littered around the space, instead I offer the bearded man a polite smile, a guest I still am.

"I'll take over," I murmur, and he nods, shuffling down the ladder.

I kick the butts off the lookout, straighten the chair then sit, resting the barrel of the gun against the railing of the lookout and the stock against my shoulder. I look through the scope, scouring the quiet and dark area. The back of the settlement sits against a wide lake, not much can get through it so my gaze is overlooking the town and the surrounding area of spindly trees, cracked road, and skeletal power poles. The only things that seem to bother the settlement are Mirelurks from a nest nearby that I have the urge to clear out, and the usual bugs and nasties. Raiders haven't found an interest in this place and the people here are lucky, I've seen plenty of settlements in my time of wandering to know the misfortune the wastes love to hand out.

I lean back in the chair, sitting the rifle across my lap and sit the hat on top of it, straightening its position before sliding my hands through my dark hair. I used to keep it cropped short, never letting it pass below my jaw. Now the length of it is getting too hard to maintain. I continue to miss the small necessity of shampoo and conditioner. The thick length now brushes against my collarbones but I usually pull it into a tight braid.