Fallout Time Killing One Shots

Story 2: A windy night in the mojave

     The conex door creaked open as the survivor pulled the lift bar to the side and pulled on the large, metal door. It was heavy, but not obscenely so. The dusty winds blew harshly passed the man as he entered his makeshift home. He closed the door behind him, and sighed in relief at the echoed sounds of the wind outside. There was a faint click, followed by the illumination of the box interior.
     Unsealing his gas mask, he pulled his helmet and mask of in one quick movement. His slightly grayed hair was unkempt and dirty, and his short beard equally so. A small thud accompanied the helmet being placed on an old sunset sasparilla case near the entrance, and the sounds of clips and velcro being undone filled the voided silence after. He clicked on a radio, before dropping his vest and radio pack on the floor besides the old couch hed acquired for his home.
     "This is Mr. New Vegas coming at you again with another news update. The NCR has continued its path east after the second battle of hoover dam, reaching as far out as the great salt lake, and the surrounding areas of new canaan." The voice echoed through the room, sound bouncing from the various objects, shelves, and workbenches. "The New Canaanites have welcomed the NCR with open arms, and even willingly submitted to occupation, as long as the government agreed to leave them to their standard operations."
     The survivor scoffed slightly, before rising to his feet again. He walked toward the back of his home, as the radio transitioned from news to music. Wind continued to whistle around the conex as the dust storm continued, and the survivor went about toying with an old TV set hed salvaged from a nearby police station. He had taken parts from the nearby solar panels in the dry lakebed, that had been abandoned by the NCR after the battle for the dam. They claimed that it was made an "obsolete, and expensively maintained oddity" in comparison to the dam.
     The survivor salvaged all sorts of electronics, metals, and even some left behind ammunition and weapons from the evacuation of NCR troops from the site. He made his home in the desert just north of Helios one, on the edge of the dried up lake bed. Rarely did people come by, or interrupt his life. But when they did, he offered them repair services, or was more than willing to trade for trinkets and goods. On more than one occasion he even traveled into the recently rebuilt Nipton in search of weapon parts.
     He had spent several days now on the construction of a hexagonally barreled lever action rifle, of his own design and make. It was essentially a trail carbine with a longer barrel and scope. Holding it in his hands, he inspected it, and then set it gently back on his desk. Small metallic clasps could be heard unbuckling as he undid the holster from his thigh, and placed it beside his rifle. His long sleeved, gray duster was tossed next over the end of his shelf that hed managed to jerry-rig into a bed. He quickly huffed himself up onto it, before kicking off his boots, and reclining onto the thin cushion.
     "And now, for the last song of the night, look up to that new vegas sky and ask yourself, are those the stars of the midnight ranger?" Mr new vegas asked, almost sarcastically to his audience, before the song which he used in his play on words began.