Fate Bringer, Part One

By Dooms Shadow

 

The stench in the bar was overwhelming but not as overwhelming as the stench that radiated from the bartender.

“What the hell do you want” croaked the foul scented bartender.

“Well you got any rotgut” inquired the John the policeman.

The bartender shuffled around behind the rotting counter. “No where out of that crap, want a beer?” the bartender stated, a look of triumph on his face. The bartender had always enjoyed annoying the police; it made him feel above the law.

“Why not, give me one of those” said the police officer adjusting one of the faded green armor plates on his combat armor. With the triumph dissapearing from his face the bartender rotated on his left heel and opened the powerless refrigerator and produced a lukewarm beer.

“That would be $6 for the beer” the foul smelling bartender said a tinge of hatred intertwined with the business like tone. John threw a bill and 1 coin across the counter and began to sip on his beer. The night seemed to be passing faster than usual and soon he would have to return to his duty post for the night shift. He hated having to do the night shift but if he didn’t then the people of the Hub would have their lives in jeopardy. He set his pipboy to wake him in an hour, and with that he went to sleep.

Due to his poor handling of his pipboy the little doohickey had run out of energy cells and went into energy saving mode. With this mode enabled the auto wake feature had to be disabled so that the memory of the pipboy would not be erased.

When John woke at last an unpleasant sight greeted him; the city he had sworn to protect was now in ruins. Among the rubble he could see figures of a bizarre shape searching the charred remains of what once had been the general store. A quick look around told him that his life had only been sparred by the fact that the rubble had hit him in such a way that he would taken for dead. His focus back on the scavenging party John figured out what was so weird about them. The figures appeared to be twice the size of a normal human. His first thought was that the hub was under attack by deathclaws but upon closer investigation he saw the glint of blue steel and the shiloete of a minigun.

“Mutants” John uttered under his breath. His right hand fumbled for the 14mmpistol that had been attached to his belt. His hand told him that he feared. His beloved 14mm pistol had been stolen.

“Oh SHIT” where the only words John could find to describe the particular situation at hand. He began to stand only to find that the rubble that had saved his life had also crippled his right foot. John wondered if there had been something in the beer he had drunk that had let him sleep through all of this. With no time to spare contemplating the ingredients of his beverage he began to hobble to the north of town trying his best not to be seen by the super mutants.

His hearing sharpened by years of working for the hub police force picked up on the crackle of a radio sputtering to life.

“Master, Master are you there Master?” the voice was ruff like sandpaper on wood.

“Perhaps we had better go check and make sure that human at the bar is dead.” Croaked out another harsh voice not far from the first.

“Uh-oh” John said struggling to remain calm. If the mutants saw that he was gone they would know that he was alive. They would probably alert the rest of the mutants to his presence and he would soon be found. The various ways he would be killed after that shot through his mind faster than you could say “Crap”.

He fought against the agonizing pain shooting up from his right foot to crawl out into the wasteland. Without much experience in the wastes Johns future was in the hands of fate itself. Stranded wearing only his combat armor with a crippled leg and no weapon with which to defend himself he unwillingly struggled out into the wastes.

 

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