"...thank you for choosing... Vault. Tec."

  The exit lift slowly made its way to the surface. Tess’s mind was still reeling, her heart felt as if it would shatter – from grief, from fear of what awaited above, and from anger.

  ”Fuck you Vault-Tec!”

  The platform aperture began to slide open above her. It squealed and ground in protest so loudly it threatened to pierce her eardrums. She closed her eyes, took in a deep breath and held it. Her body was on the verge of collapse, the fear that she had just sucked down her last breath flooding her with adrenaline. The sun, even through her tightly closed eyelids, was brutal after the darker lighting of the vault below.

  The churning and humming of the lift came to a stop with a loud clunk, nearly knocking her off balance. A breeze caressed her face, moving strands of long copper hair across her cheek. She let out her breath and reflexively sucked in a large lungful. It didn’t kill her. It just smelled dusty, lifeless. Dead.

  Slowly opening her eyes, she found herself looking straight down at Sanctuary Hills. The wreckage of what was once her life caused her to gasp. Her legs felt like rubber, but she managed to stay upright. Her chest constricted as she stared down at the hellscape. Standing for what felt like an hour, she was pulled from her stupor by the caw of crows nearby.

  Well, we always knew cockroaches would never die... at least some birds made it, she mused bitterly.

  It had definitely been years. But wrapping her head around that fact had to wait in line behind all the others scrambling for attention. How could it have been years when it felt as though she had just put that vault suit on and sat down in the pod? Maybe it hadn’t been that long, maybe this was just the aftermath of the explosion. But if that were true, she would not be breathing right now.

  She knew that nuclear fallout was what happened after a nuclear explosion and that it took a very, very long time before it was safe to be on the surface. But that was about the extent of her knowledge. She also knew that cryogenics completely suspended all life function until revived. A fact she attributed to her love of science fiction.

  But why the fuck would a glorified bomb shelter freeze people? What the hell was Vault-Tec up to? It was obvious whatever it had been had failed. Her anger was returning. Those people smiled in their faces, knowing what they were about to do to the residents. It was incomprehensible to her.

  Her head began pounding. She rubbed her temples, feeling the urge to once again go fetal and give up. With no idea at all where to go, where to start, she began making her way along the path she felt she had just traversed. Back... not home, but at least something familiar for the time being.

  It was cool out, but not actually cold. All the trees that ran the perimeter of the little island of Sanctuary Hills were still alive somehow. But everything else was dead. As if to mock her, the sky was a pristine blue with luscious, fluffy white clouds, the sun shining happily as if everything anyone had ever known, all things that made life, life, hadn’t been destroyed.

  She stopped for a moment, looking through the Pip-boy for any information that might be in it. There was a bar at the bottom of the screen that was malfunctioning, flashing bits of text that weren’t legible. She could find nothing in it to give her any idea of the date or time. For all she knew, weather as it had been known could have completely changed.

  It was daytime, probably afternoon, early evening, judging by where the sun was. Looking ahead of her, she noticed that most of the houses were still standing, albeit the excuses for roofs and walls was another matter. The closer she got to town, the more her head throbbed.

  It was dead quiet save for the sounds of the breeze as it swirled detritus to and fro, the quiet babbling of the stream running the perimeter of town, and the jarring moans of steel from ruined homes. She took solace in the fact that at least she hadn’t exited the vault at night. Her reverie was cut short when she heard a familiar sound. It was so familiar to her that she had to actually think what it was.

  Oh my god!

  She rounded the corner at the end of the path and her feet stopped moving, her body was rigid and her breath caught in her throat... it couldn’t be! Codsworth? How... it wasn’t... She broke into a sprint, hoping she wasn’t imagining things. “Codsworth!” She croaked out.

  The familiar Mr. Handy’s eye stalks whipped around at the sound. “Miss Tess? Oh... it’s really you!"

  Tess threw her arms around him, almost falling and taking him with her. “You’re real? You’re really here?”

  The dignified Mr. Handy jetted up slightly, as if standing straighter and wiping down his butler’s tux. “Why yes, mum, where else would I be? But I say, you certainly look the worse for wear! Where is your better half, and dear Shaun? It will be so much nicer with you all back!”

  She stared at him for a moment, trying to understand why he seemed so unfazed. “Codsworth, what happened? Where is everyone?”

  The robot fidgeted before answering. “I don’t know, mum. I thought they were with you. When the bombs fell, I was worried that maybe... maybe you were all dead. But after thinking it over for the past two centuries–”

  Tess cut him off. “Two hundred years? What? No, that’s not possible...” How can that... it’s- No! “Are you sure?”

  Codsworth spoke with a hint of confusion. “Well, actually closer to 210 years.” His artificial British voice cracked slightly. “I never thought I’d see you again. Where are Sir and young Shaun?”

  Placing a hand on Codsworth, and fighting back another bout of tears, she answered, “Nate is… dead. Some people came into the vault and killed him, and they took Shaun!”

  “Mum, these things you’re saying, these terrible things...” Codsworth trailed off, servos and gears humming, as he processed the information. One eye stalk looked up and down her body. “Miss Tess, how is it you’ve managed to survive two centuries? You look the same as the day you fled!”

  She explained everything that she could remember. “Codsworth, did you see anyone coming or going from the vault while we were in there?”

  “I’m afraid not, mum,” replied the ever-faithful servant. “In fact, I’ve not seen another living soul around here in a very long time. Unless, of course, you count Concord. I did traverse there once to see if anyone was about. However, the ones I did encounter seemed a bit... rough around the edges. They threw stones at me, even shot at me once! Dreadful affair. I’ve not returned since.”

  She was lost in thought for a moment. So there actually were survivors? People lived through it? It seemed impossible, but then again, hadn’t living, breathing people come and taken her baby? Maybe they came from the vault, too. Or maybe even another vault. A glimmer of hope warmed her heart. People. Living human beings. “Codsworth, when was this?”

  “Hmm,” Codsworth calculated, “I believe it must have been about 50 years ago last I was there. Yes, that is about the right of it.”

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  With a sigh, Tess felt the hope slip away as easily as it had come. She had no idea when those people had come into the vault. Discovering that her little nap had actually lasted over two centuries meant that time was something incalculable now. They could have been there the same day she was frozen or yesterday for all she knew. They could have come from anywhere at any time. It was all still too confusing and her headache was turning into a real killer of a migraine.

  “I need to find Shaun, Codsworth. I’m going to clean up and pack some things in the bunker. I’ll be heading out first light. The bunker is still here, right?”

  “Oh yes, mum,” Codsworth began, “Some unsavory people did try to break in once, but I was able to chase them off. Sir did an excellent job on its security.”

  “Thanks Codsworth.” She was suddenly so tired, so very weary. “I’m going to get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Codsworth’s stalks followed her as she moved past him. “Of course, mum. I shall be here should you need anything at all. It truly is a relief to have you back Missus!” He returned to his eternal work of tending the shrubs, which miraculously, amid all the dead foliage in town, were still thriving.

  Approaching the bunker, she stepped beneath the igloo-shaped concrete outer enclosure, where the heavy iron doors were set into the wall. She entered Shaun’s birth date into the keypad and waited for the automatic doors to open. Musty air plumed up dust from the inside. She descended the stairs and hit the light switch on the wall. They flickered and buzzed then came to life.

  Good thing she and Nate had been prepared.

  She would go through everything later. For now, she needed to pass out and try to forget the past few hours.

  Sleep was still a luxury she felt would not be afforded her for some time. The nightmares, the cold sweats, the images that were now all too real kept her tossing and turning most of the night.

  There was one final dream...

  She was running down a corridor in some fortified building, turrets spraying bullets at her, an evil voice on a loud speaker, taunting and laughing. Shaun screaming, crying for her. The faster she ran, the longer the halls became. The evil voice laughed harder and louder.

  She shot up from the bed, sweat stippling her face, body clammy, heart racing. Frustrated and worn out, she tossed the blankets aside, rose from the bed and started wriggling out of the vault suit. Insulated material clung to her damp skin and it was like trying to remove layers of cling wrap.

  Finally freeing herself from the garment, she padded over to a recessed door in the far wall that opened into a control room. She checked the levels of the built-in generator that drew its power from the neatly installed solar panels which lined the concrete around the outer doors. All systems nominal. Good. A sad smile curled her lips. Nate would have been so pleased to see all his hard work had lasted all this time.

  Leaving the control room she entered the bathroom and started the shower. The water sputtered and spat, dark, brackish liquid spewing from the shower head causing her to jump back. Eventually it ran clear and warmed up. Sliding down the wall she hugged her knees as the water ran over her head. She allowed herself a few minutes of crying and self-pity before standing and grabbing the soap.

  Feeling slightly better afterward, she wrapped her hair in a towel and went to start taking stock of the supplies when she realized Nate’s ring was still on her thumb. She swallowed hard and went to the desk he kept near their king size bed, removing a fancy flip up box that contained his holotags. She took them out, threaded the ring on the chain, and slid it over her head, holding the items in her hand for a moment before letting them drop back against her chest. Her hands started trembling so she decided to get to work.

  Nate’s Army pack was laying atop a large steamer trunk. She took it and started stocking up on what she felt she needed for her journey – wherever that was going to be. She had absolutely nothing to go on. Everyone she had ever known had long since died.

  From what Codsworth said, the humans that were alive now seemed to be in survival mode themselves. But she swore that no matter what she had to do, she was going to find her son. For Nate. For her. And if she could take down Vault Tec as a side order, that would also work.

  She decided on two weapons; one of Nate’s favorites, a Kalashnakov AK-102 carbine assault rifle, and a Glock 9mm pistol. She laid them on the table next to the trunk then dressed in a tank top and some of Nate’s fatigues; a bit large–the sleeves hanging past her fingers, but that was the least of her concerns right now. She quickly brushed her long hair and tied it back into a ponytail.

  One of life’s little ironies occurred to her: When Nate returned from Alaska, something in him had changed. Not in a PTSD sort of way, but in that way that comes from seeing too much and wanting to protect those you loved. With the climate of the world at the time, it was no surprise he wanted them to be prepared for any possible scenario.

  Nate had taken Tess to an army base shooting range and had patiently taught her how to stand, how to hold and aim her weapons, how to load ammunition, and how to care for and clean them. When it came to shooting, Tess had been a natural. It surprised them both. She also took self-defense classes. They had no idea that the world would actually end – but Nate had wanted them to be ready for anything. He would sometimes comment on how she had missed her calling as a soldier.

  Tess grimaced. No time for memories right now.

  As she meticulously cleaned and oiled every part of her chosen arsenal, her stomach began loudly protesting its emptiness. She frowned and went to the foot locker that contained a healthy stash of MREs. She smirked as she remembered how awful they tasted. But right then she would have eaten one of those bile-inducing roaches, as hungry as she was. She shuddered with revulsion.

  Holding one MRE in each hand she read the labels: “Hmm, let’s have some turkey and mash,” she muttered, tossing the other one back.

  Still horrid, she mused after opening it – but she finished it all in under 30 seconds. Next she grabbed a water bottle and twisted it open as she sat back down. It tasted of plastic. Not surprising after 200 years, she supposed. That was also gone in seconds.

  Once the weapons were assembled, she gathered enough rations for a week, hoping that it would be overkill. She holstered the Glock to her leg, packed a change of clothing, some chems, and as much ammunition as she could carry for each weapon, stuffed the bag full, slung it on her back and shouldered the rifle. The weight was more than she was used to and her knees protested, but she would not be deterred.

  As she exited the bunker she got another first. The sky was gloomy and tinged with green. Hell, everything was green! The wind was whipping the trees into a frenzy – and the sounds... What was she hearing? It was like someone dragging heavy chains over a kettle drum. Even the lightning was green! Her Pip-boy started crackling.

  “Oh, no,” she whimpered. It was radioactivity! She momentarily panicked. This was a contingency she never imagined. Apparently even two centuries wasn’t enough time to rid the world of radiation. Her hand shook as she entered the passcode to go back into the bunker. Once inside, she nervously thought, what’s next, dinosaurs?

  Nate had collected a lot of technical manuals and military documents so she was sure there was something about this somewhere. Eventually she found a book about nuclear bombs and sat to read it, thumbing through the pages until finding a section on ways to deal with fallout.

  ‘After a nuclear incident...’

  “War, guys, it was a war.”

  ‘...fallout will spread from any site where bombs have been dropped. Best practices are to keep a Geiger counter and plenty of Rad-X and Rad Away on your person.’ There were various images of what they were calling rad-suits, different gear one could use for highly contaminated areas. She doubted the nearby Fallon’s would be open for business, much less have these types of items.

  Although she didn’t find any information on the phenomena she was seeing outside in particular, rads were rads and she wanted to be sure to take precautions.

  She double checked a med kit that was inside another large foot locker and found some of the aforementioned chems. “Bless you Nate, bless you,” she whispered. But where had he gotten them? Why did he even have them? These things were worth more than gold in the year before it all went to hell. She sighed and decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  She rummaged through the clothing stash again and found a gas mask folded in the corner with a box of filters for it and took it all out. She cleaned the mask, inserted a new filter and tucked the rest into her fatigues pocket, then donned the mask. Holy shit did it smell! It was almost a toss up of wearing it or just taking her chances out in the storm.

  Looking at the exit door, trembling fingers poised to push the button. Would she ever face anything normal again? Or was this her life now, going from one uncertainty to another? From the brief time she’d been outside of the vault so far, she feared the word normal wasn’t even in the dictionary any longer.