Fallout: Origins

Chapter 3: Crash Down

It was about a half hour after they crashed down. Michael had just regained consciousness when he noticed Smith looking over the other squadmates

“Is everyone alright?” Michael called out, picking himself up.

Smith was inspecting the corpses. “They’re dead, Sir. Pilots too.”

“Son of a… Alright, let’s go see if there’s any survivors. We regroup and get out of here. Base is only a few klicks away.”

They both grabbed their helmets and their guns, and went off to look for the others. It wasn’t long before they heard a loud clatter from behind some bushes.

Michael and Smith moved through the bushes, which stood about 4 feet, with no leaves, and only branches. Pushing the branches aside, and moving slowly and keeping low, the two prepped their plasma rifles. They came out the other side, and there was Jack.

“Jack,” Michael said, dropping his arms to his sides. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Hello to you too, Michael.” Jack looked at the ground. “ I woke up about 10 minutes ago, you and Smith were still asleep. I even checked all the other bodies, but I couldn’t find Riker anywhere. I did find some boot tracks though. It’s Enclave, so I think it’s safe to say it was our golden boy.” Jack smiled at the others, and Smith chuckled. Michael had a grin on his face, ever so slightly.

He always did have a personality that made anyone laugh. Once, he swore he heard Riker chuckle at one of his smartass remarks. Jack sometimes got called ‘Joker’ behind his back, mostly to his squadmates and a nickname the teachers in school gave him. He could pretty much make the best of any situation. Jack even got transferred a few times to boost the morale of other squads in the field.

“Alright then,” Michael said, putting the butt of his rifle in his hand, leaning the barrel against his shoulder, “let’s get tracking then, shall we?”

They followed the footprints for a while, until they saw a figure kneeling on top of a hill. It looked human, but it was silhouetted against the sunset. It would be dark within the hour, and the others knew that they had to find Riker before then. Michael ordered the others to proceed towards the hilltop, Smith taking point.

As they climbed up the hill, the silhouette became more and more clear. After a few more steps, Smith realised that it was Riker.

“Riker!” Smith called out, “What the hell happened?”

Riker stood up and turned to the others, removing his helmet. “I was wondering what happened to you guys.”

“Riker…” Michael started slowly, “Were you looking at flowers again?”

He looked straight at Michael with a blank expression. “Yes, Sir.” He said hesitantly.

“Goddamn it, Riker!” Jack threw his arm up. “Why is it that every damn flower, or tree, or anything green of any sorts, gets your attention? I could understand if it may have marked a weapons cache or something, but this is ridiculous!”

“Settle down, Jack.” Michael looked at him. “No harm done. At least he’s alive.”

A scream rang through the air, shrill, yet masculine. The sound of pain beyond words.

“Sounds like it came from the crash site, Sir.” Smith said slowly.

“Let’s go check it out."

They tracked through the forested area, which was a lot faster than the way they had come before. It was pitch black out now, with the sun gone and it being a cloudy night. Very little moonlight was shining through the trees.

“Take your helmets off.” Michael ordered.

“Um… Sir?” Smith said cautiously.

“You heard me. We can see better at night. It’s not like we have any of those new prototypes with the night-vision built in. We gotta rely on our eyes, and our eyes alone.” With that, the squad removed their helmets. The screaming was getting louder, and would not stop.

“When I find that guy, I’m gonna give him something to yell about.” Jack grinded his teeth. He was usually pretty easy going, but when something annoyed him, he made sure it would stop.

They came across the crash site a few minutes later, and the screaming was louder than ever. They saw one of the soldiers from their squad, rolling around on the ground, leg in hand, screaming. They hurried over to him to inspect him.

“Soldier, what’s your name?” Michael asked him.

“Bill Green. You should know me by now, Sarge.” The man smirked, but winced after a moment. His face was covered in blood, bits of rocks and dirt stuck in his forehead. They saw his helmet about 3 yards away.

“I just woke up, Sir. I’m pretty sure my leg is broken.” He moaned and winced again. “Hurts like a bitch!”

“He’s bleeding like a stuck pig.” Riker piped up. There was a large pool of blood surrounding his leg, which was gushing. “We need some bandages and some pain killers.”

“We don’t have any of those on board. We’re recon and light infantry, we don’t need medkits for most of our ops.” Michael looked up at Riker. Any other squad would have gotten better armor, and it wouldn’t have torn to shreds like this one.

“Well, he needs medical attention now, or he’s going to die.”

“Please, Sir.” Green looked at Michael with pleading eyes the size of a golf ball. “Don’t let my die. I got a girl back home, and we’re supposed to get hitched as soon as I get back. I haven’t lived enough, Sir. Do something, anything! Just don’t let me die!” The soldier was in tears now.

“You won’t die, not on my watch.” Michael tried to comfort him. “Riker, you know most about what’s going on here and what to do. Take Green and go find what you need to patch him up.”

“Yes, Sir.” Riker bent down to pick Bill up off the ground, and walked towards the hill they were just on. The screams were blood-curdling as he was lifted. Riker thought he’d seen a medical center across the forest.

Not long after they left, there was movement in the bushes around the site.

“Riker,” Smith called out, “Are you back already?”

There was no response, but the movement was getting closer.

“Riker, respond. That’s an order.” Michael commanded.

Still no response. Five figures emerged from the bushes, weapons drawn.

“Identify yourself.” One of the figures ordered. It was a woman’s voice.

“Sergeant Michael Mars, Omega Squad, 52nd Infantry, Enclave Military. Now you, soldier.”

The figure in front moved closer, stepping into the dim moonlight that surrounded the crash. A female voice broke the silence that lingered in the air amongst the cricket and birds chirping.

“Sentinel Patricia Fiore, Wolf’s Pack Squad, Brotherhood of Steel.”