Into the Wild
Feb. 8th, 2009 01:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aaaaaaaagh_skyThe door to Craterside Supply creaked open. The dusty air inside fairly shimmered, light from a few bulbs here and there mingling with the trickles of sun through gaps in the metal roof. A bored-looking man with an assault rifle slung across his back leaned against one wall, eyeing Ellen disinterestedly. The walls were lined with shelves, weighed down with all kinds of things; Ellen saw plates and pitchers alongside stimpaks and Rad-X bottles, and what must've once been Army helmets shared space with bottles of Nuka-Cola and boxes of Salisbury steak ready-meals. The storeroom back in Vault 101 had been bigger, but not nearly so eclectic. She stared, fascinated, until a cow skull on one of the shelves shook her out of it. She'd come here to get supplies for the Wasteland journey after her father, after all. "Sir?" she asked, turning to the man with the gun. "Is Miss Brown here?"
He jerked his head towards the back of the room, but he needn't have bothered. A redheaded woman in a well-worn, pale blue jumpsuit was already on her way forward, dusting off her hands. "Hey!" she said cheerfully, extracting what looked like a pencil from the bun her hair was pulled back in. "I hear you're that stray from the Vault! I haven't seen one of you for years!"
Ellen blinked a few times- the woman looked too young to remember her father passing through- but held her peace. "That's right," she said. "My name's Ellen Park."
The redhead beamed. "Good to meet you!" she said. "I'm Moira Brown. I run Craterside Supply, but what I really do is mostly tinkering and research. Say- I'm working on a book about the Wasteland right now, and it'd be great to have the foreword be something by a Vault dweller. Help me out, would you?"
"Um," said Ellen, who really only wanted to get her supplies and get moving, but didn't want to offend the seller. "How?"
"Oh, just tell me what it's like to live underground all your life, or to come outside for the first time, or whatever strikes your fancy!" Moira beamed again. It seemed to be her default expression.
The memory of that first moment out of Vault 101's tunnels struck Ellen, the blazing light fading and giving way to the sight of infinite space. Ellen shook her head a little, remembering. "This 'Outside' place is amazing," she murmured. "When I first came out, it was so huge I couldn't even see the ceiling..."
Moira laughed. "And the big lightbulb's a real pain to change, too!" she said. "Starting off with a joke, that's good. That's an excellent way to start the book- say, want to help me with the research? I can pay you, and it'll be fun!"
"Actually, ma'am," said Ellen, "I'm just here to ask if you have any recommendations for supplies to go and find my father. Mr. Moriarty said he'd gone to somewhere called Galaxy News Radio?"
"Oh! Why, certainly I can help you with that," said Moira. "It's a long trip from here to DC, and the traders tell me the place is practically a war zone. You're going to want a better gun than that, for starters- not to mention ammo- oh, and something a little more protective than what you've got on now. As a matter of fact, I have something that might just interest you..." She ducked into the back, through a dusty sunbeam, and returned a few moments later with what looked like-
"That's a Vault 101 jumpsuit!" Ellen exclaimed.
"Yup! There was a girl who came from there about, oh... ten or twelve years ago," Moira said. "She was going out into the Wasteland, too, so I offered to add some armor plates to one of her spare jumpsuits for her. She left before I could finish it, but she never came back to pick it up. Must've died out there, poor thing."
Ellen gulped at that.
"So you're welcome to it if you've got the caps," Moira went on. "I'll be sure to cut you a discount on it, what with you being from the same Vault as the original owner and all. Now, let's see what else we can find you- starting with a better backpack than that thing you've got there."
Even in quantities of hundreds, caps were still considerably lighter than actual supplies. Ellen had never had to carry so much stuff on her back in her life before. She'd been loaded down with enough ready-meals for two people for a week (Moira had pointed out that she couldn't count on Dad having anything with him when she finally found him), half a dozen stimpaks, several doses of Rad-Away radiation counteragent, an old but still functional shotgun, and extra ammo for both the shotgun and her pistol. Between that and the water she'd brought from Milliways, the rugged old military backpack Moira had sold her was distinctly hefty. Hopefully she wouldn't have to run much. Moira had had a look at Ellen's Pip-Boy before she left the supply shop and indicated Galaxy News Radio's approximate location on its slowly developing map. This was going to be a long walk.
And a hot one, too. Even though the sun had hardly risen in the sky, Ellen could feel its rays beating down like a medical-grade heat lamp. She'd kept the tinted glasses she'd bought from Milliways, and the baseball cap she'd owned pretty much since her tenth birthday party helped her eyes a little, too. It didn't do a darned thing for the temperature, though. Ellen was pretty sure she'd have to find somewhere with a roof for that.
She took a deep breath and pushed away her rising panic at the thought that she was somewhere without a roof. Dad had made it this far without freaking out, hadn't he? Well, she hoped he had...
It was the fourth or fifth time the panic had hit since Megaton had disappeared behind her. Getting it to die down took a little while less each time, but it was still a genuine effort to willfully ignore sky and horizon in the seemingly-infinite distance. She stopped, just as before, closed her eyes, just as before, and counted to ten, just as before.
The scratchy, squeaky noises that she heard as she reached nine this time? Those were different. She opened her eyes just in time to see something pink and scabrous leaping at her, long yellowed teeth gnashing furiously. With a yelp she drew her pistol, but the thing was faster than she; it sank its vile incisors into her forearm before she could get a shot off. When it dropped to the ground she managed to wound it badly. It still managed to lunge at her leg and leave a long, ugly gash. Ellen awkwardly danced backwards- the pack was NOT helping- and narrowly avoided a third bite. By the time the thing finally fell over dead she was bleeding from several different places and panting furiously. All right, she thought, I have to pay more attention from now on-
Was that the same scratchy noise as before, coming up behind her?
He jerked his head towards the back of the room, but he needn't have bothered. A redheaded woman in a well-worn, pale blue jumpsuit was already on her way forward, dusting off her hands. "Hey!" she said cheerfully, extracting what looked like a pencil from the bun her hair was pulled back in. "I hear you're that stray from the Vault! I haven't seen one of you for years!"
Ellen blinked a few times- the woman looked too young to remember her father passing through- but held her peace. "That's right," she said. "My name's Ellen Park."
The redhead beamed. "Good to meet you!" she said. "I'm Moira Brown. I run Craterside Supply, but what I really do is mostly tinkering and research. Say- I'm working on a book about the Wasteland right now, and it'd be great to have the foreword be something by a Vault dweller. Help me out, would you?"
"Um," said Ellen, who really only wanted to get her supplies and get moving, but didn't want to offend the seller. "How?"
"Oh, just tell me what it's like to live underground all your life, or to come outside for the first time, or whatever strikes your fancy!" Moira beamed again. It seemed to be her default expression.
The memory of that first moment out of Vault 101's tunnels struck Ellen, the blazing light fading and giving way to the sight of infinite space. Ellen shook her head a little, remembering. "This 'Outside' place is amazing," she murmured. "When I first came out, it was so huge I couldn't even see the ceiling..."
Moira laughed. "And the big lightbulb's a real pain to change, too!" she said. "Starting off with a joke, that's good. That's an excellent way to start the book- say, want to help me with the research? I can pay you, and it'll be fun!"
"Actually, ma'am," said Ellen, "I'm just here to ask if you have any recommendations for supplies to go and find my father. Mr. Moriarty said he'd gone to somewhere called Galaxy News Radio?"
"Oh! Why, certainly I can help you with that," said Moira. "It's a long trip from here to DC, and the traders tell me the place is practically a war zone. You're going to want a better gun than that, for starters- not to mention ammo- oh, and something a little more protective than what you've got on now. As a matter of fact, I have something that might just interest you..." She ducked into the back, through a dusty sunbeam, and returned a few moments later with what looked like-
"That's a Vault 101 jumpsuit!" Ellen exclaimed.
"Yup! There was a girl who came from there about, oh... ten or twelve years ago," Moira said. "She was going out into the Wasteland, too, so I offered to add some armor plates to one of her spare jumpsuits for her. She left before I could finish it, but she never came back to pick it up. Must've died out there, poor thing."
Ellen gulped at that.
"So you're welcome to it if you've got the caps," Moira went on. "I'll be sure to cut you a discount on it, what with you being from the same Vault as the original owner and all. Now, let's see what else we can find you- starting with a better backpack than that thing you've got there."
Even in quantities of hundreds, caps were still considerably lighter than actual supplies. Ellen had never had to carry so much stuff on her back in her life before. She'd been loaded down with enough ready-meals for two people for a week (Moira had pointed out that she couldn't count on Dad having anything with him when she finally found him), half a dozen stimpaks, several doses of Rad-Away radiation counteragent, an old but still functional shotgun, and extra ammo for both the shotgun and her pistol. Between that and the water she'd brought from Milliways, the rugged old military backpack Moira had sold her was distinctly hefty. Hopefully she wouldn't have to run much. Moira had had a look at Ellen's Pip-Boy before she left the supply shop and indicated Galaxy News Radio's approximate location on its slowly developing map. This was going to be a long walk.
And a hot one, too. Even though the sun had hardly risen in the sky, Ellen could feel its rays beating down like a medical-grade heat lamp. She'd kept the tinted glasses she'd bought from Milliways, and the baseball cap she'd owned pretty much since her tenth birthday party helped her eyes a little, too. It didn't do a darned thing for the temperature, though. Ellen was pretty sure she'd have to find somewhere with a roof for that.
She took a deep breath and pushed away her rising panic at the thought that she was somewhere without a roof. Dad had made it this far without freaking out, hadn't he? Well, she hoped he had...
It was the fourth or fifth time the panic had hit since Megaton had disappeared behind her. Getting it to die down took a little while less each time, but it was still a genuine effort to willfully ignore sky and horizon in the seemingly-infinite distance. She stopped, just as before, closed her eyes, just as before, and counted to ten, just as before.
The scratchy, squeaky noises that she heard as she reached nine this time? Those were different. She opened her eyes just in time to see something pink and scabrous leaping at her, long yellowed teeth gnashing furiously. With a yelp she drew her pistol, but the thing was faster than she; it sank its vile incisors into her forearm before she could get a shot off. When it dropped to the ground she managed to wound it badly. It still managed to lunge at her leg and leave a long, ugly gash. Ellen awkwardly danced backwards- the pack was NOT helping- and narrowly avoided a third bite. By the time the thing finally fell over dead she was bleeding from several different places and panting furiously. All right, she thought, I have to pay more attention from now on-
Was that the same scratchy noise as before, coming up behind her?