Fallout ▶A Dan Avidan Fanfiction◀

Chapter Seven

He motions from me to Dan as he introduces us. Everyone greets us and they invite us to join in their activities. Dan and I sit with them. I
These people are different than the people in our vault. One has a pair of glasses and brightly dyed hair. She sits beside a smaller man with light brown hair. They introduce themselves as Ross and Holly. Holly She has a pigeon perched on her shoulder. I am surprised it doesn't move. We once had a pigeon in our science class in the vault when I was younger. It flew everywhere and the teacher had to chase it around the room. It escaped and was flying around the vault for more than a week.
Spot runs over to Holly and he plops in her lap, but the small bird doesn't budge. He pants heavily and drool drips from his mouth. Holly pats his side. "That must've been some adventure, big guy."
"It was," Arin says. "He walked almost an entire mile. Can you believe that?"
A young woman with black hair peeks her head around the corner. Much like Arin, she has a blonde streak running through her bangs. She wipes her hands on a ratty looking cloth before she comes out to greet us.
"Hello," she says, shaking our hands firmly. "I'm Suzy. I'm Arin's wife. I'm really sorry to hear what happened. I heard it was nasty."
We both just nod. We left before we had a chance to see the worst of the damage. But our families are dead. There's no point in going back.
Suzy offers us some food. We graciously accept, our stomachs groaning from emptiness. She goes back to where she came out from.
Everyone else in the room looks at us with curious eyes.
"Dan, Sam, why don't you tell us about yourselves?" Arin asks.
"Yeah, I want to hear about the vaults!" Barry says, his eyes shining with fresh curiosity.
I peer over at Dan and his eyes meet mine.
"Ladies first." He says, gently taking my hand in his. I intertwine my fingers with his long, slender ones. I smiles softly before I look back at the people sitting around us. And then I begin.
I describe simple things about the vault. From the way our doors work, to the classes we take.
Suzy returns as I am finishing my story, two plates in hand. She gives them to us. I peer down at the disfigured meat on my plate, if it is even meat. Suzy clearly sees the expression on my face, as she smiles, leaning closer.
"Oh, that's squirrel on a stick."
My eyes widen. "Squirrel on a stick? You mean, those little creatures with the furry tails?"
"Yea, it's very good. It tastes a lot better than it looks." Barry tells us.
At this point, my stomach is growling. I shrug and pick up the strange food and bite into it. The flavour is similar to that of chicken, but without any spices. It's chewy and I really have to work my jaw, but it's not as bad as I thought it would be. I thank Suzy, gratefully eating the strange food.
Dan begins to tell them about his side of things. He has a lot more to say; he had more jobs than I did since he is a year older than me and there are more jobs for guys than girls.
Everyone is so fascinated by what we have to say. To us it's just a day in the life of a vault dweller. But to them, we're so foreign, so different.
I was expecting the Wasteland to be literal hell. But I didn't expect there to be good.

***

Later on Arin takes us to a little shop by Craterside Supply. It's a weapon shop owned by his friend Brian.
We enter the dark, little space and are greeted by a man in a black ninja costume. I know it's a ninja because we learned about them in ancient civilizations class.
Arin introduces us to the man. He doesn't say anything. He just nods at us.
"Arin, why is he wearing that costume?" Dan whispers, leaning toward him.
"He found it in this super old shop in the middle of the Wasteland. He thinks it's cool. I think it's ridiculous."
"It is cool." The man pipes up, his voice slightly muffled by the black fabric covering his mouth. "It's pre-war. Anything pre-war is cool. I mean, look at this. I'm wearing a little piece of history."
"Right." Arin says sarcastically.
"Now, did you come to my shop to insult me or did you actually need something?" Brian demands.
"Okay. I'm sorry. And I do need something."
"Okay, what is it?" Brian narrows his eyes at us.
"I need you to fix our new friends here with some good weapons."
"They need some weapons, eh? Now what were you considering? Something a little more gentle, like a laser rifle, or some heavier artillery, like a rocket launcher?"
"Uh, how about something in between? Something that will protect them well, but also won't kill them if it's used wrong."
"Okay, I've got just the thing. Follow me." And without another word, he turns, and disappears into a room behind the counter. Reluctantly, we follow him to the dark space.
I hear a flick and the room lights up, exposing shelves and rows of weapons and ammo.
He marches across the open floor, stopping in front of a locked, glass case. He pulls a set of keys out of his pocket and he inserts a smaller key into the rusted padlock. He twists it and it pops open. He removes the padlock and he pulls the lid open.
Carefully and delicately he removes a shiny, silver gun. It had a long barrel that is split into two narrow tubes. The ammo pack is a circular pocket the attaches to the bottom of the gun.
Brian's eyes glint with something almost maniacal as he sets the gun on an empty table before us.
"Here, lady, and gentlemen, we have ourselves a combat shotgun. But," he lifts his index finger, shoving it toward us. "this isn't your average combat shotgun. This one has been specially designed to kill. I have fitted this with an ammo pack of explosive, razor-sharp, bullets. They explode on impact, but not before slicing deep into the unsuspecting victim. Amazing, huh?"
The thought of using this on another living person makes me feel a little queasy. But I would gladly use it against the raiders.
"It's lovely, Brian." Arin comments.
"You know what, Arin? Maybe you should appreciate my work a little bit more, since it's usually my modified guns that save your ass day after day."
"I said it was lovely. Was that not good enough?"
"You don't call a fucking murderous beast lovely. Come on. Have a little respect."
Arin just rolls his eyes.
Brian moves on to another gun with a long ammo clip, a shorter, wider barrel on the end. The butt of the gun is massive, clearly showing a long chain of ammo feeding into the gun.
"This, my friends, is my most recent pride and joy. It is a submachine gun that has been equipped with fire bullets. They send any victim up in flames, and anyone near them as well. I have made the ammo chains much longer, fitting more ammo at once. Also, the bullets are thinner, which means, they may pierce more than one person at a time. This one is possibly more deadly than the combat shotgun. But I highly recommend them both." He sets the gun on the table beside the shotgun.
He walks over, grabbing a small pouch. He throws a handful of small, lemon-shaped things.
"I'll pack you guys up with some grenades. I also send you each off with a silenced pistol that has special poison bullets and a hunting knife."
Then he packs up a bunch of ammo for us.
We help him carry the guns out to the counter. Brian looks up.
"And how will you guys be paying? Since you're new, I'll only charge you for the big guns. The rest is my gift to you."
Before either of us can comment on our lack of money, Arin pulls out a little pouch. He puts it on the counter.
"Okay, thanks man. Have a nice day! Also, one more thing, I'd like to see you two again so don't die."
We exit his shop and we thank Arin for paying, promising to pay him back someday, though he brushes it off.
"I've had great business lately. Don't worry about. It's my gift to you guys. I care more about helping people than a few caps anyways."