Fallout: Born Unto Trouble

9. Free

Gloria set out for Vault 101 early the next morning. She felt a little nervous, but calmed herself down with a shot of Med-X. And another one for good measure.

She opened up the creaky door to the tunnel, and at the other end was the door that separated her from her old home.

No. This wasn't home; this was somewhere she'd left behind in another life.

The metal door slid open when she typed in the password and pulled the switch, opening the Vault to the outside world. She considered leaving it open, but changed her mind when she passed the console inside the Vault and continued on inside.

It hadn't changed. Officer Gomez still cut her some slack, like he used to when she was caught sneaking out after curfew and—

She sighed, tightening her fist. Don't think about the past. Nothing good could come of it.

Wandering the same corridors she's wandered for the first eighteen years of her life couldn't stop the memories flooding in. None of them were exceptionally life-changing, but they did have a significant impact on her.

She didn't notice running straight into Butch, who swung his switchblade and sliced her arm in a clean cut. The blood welled up in the wound and dripped down her arm. She didn't pay any attention to it.

Stacy, on the other hand, hit Butch in the arm and screamed, "What the hell, you hurt her!"

"You have a lot of nerve showing up here, Nosebleed," Butch ignored his girlfriend, who was holding a rag up to Gloria's arm. Gloria rolled her eyes, "Good to see you too, Butch."

"Whatever."

Stacy smiled at Gloria, completely ignoring the tension in the air, "Hey, you're back! Where'd you go?"

"I... went for a walk." She looked at Butch, who shrugged. It seems he never told her Gloria had left. It didn't matter, since she was back to help.

"If you're done with your walk, could you please help us?"

"Why?"

"Because you're a goody-two-shoes, right? You get off on helping people in trouble?" Butch interrupted, and Gloria grimaced, "No, that's fucking gross."

"Whatever. I tell you, your old man had the right idea. I can't stand it down here anymore. You gotta help me and Stacy get out."

"It's not my problem," Gloria jerked her arm out of Stacy's grip, blood still dripping down her arm, but not as heavily as before.

"Gloria," Stacy gripped her arm again, "Please. People have... Paul he... If I told everyone about the Radroaches then he'd be-"

"Stacy," Butch interrupted. His scowl softened, "It wasn't your fault."

"What happened?" Gloria asked. It probably wasn't the right thing to ask because Stacy had started to cry, grasping onto Gloria's jumpsuit like a lifeline.

Butch ushered them into the clinic where some other residents were hiding out.

"There was a Radroach infestation, and one bit Paul. The bite got infected and he-"

"I saw them, and I didn't tell anyone and now Paul's dead. All because I'm a coward."

"Stacy, stop thinking about that. It's not your fault."

She took a moment to take a few deep breaths, then wiped at her eyes, "I'm sorry I-I can't stop thinking about it."

"It's okay, Stacy," Gloria said. While she didn't have OCD like Stacy did, she knew what it felt like to get a thought stuck in her head.