*This story is set in the "Fallout" gaming series universe. I tried to write it in such a way that you can still enjoy it even if you've never heard of or played the game. All characters are at least 18 years old.*
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Holly winced as a bead of sweat rolled into her eye. She shut her eyelid against the pain and swiped at it before returning her attention to the cart at the base of the hill she was lying on.
A large, two-headed brahmin stood near the cart and quietly grazed on nearby grass. There was a rope looped over one of the heads and the other end was secured to the cart to keep the animal from straying. The cart itself was piled high with all manner of crates and boxes and many more lay in the area around the cart. There was a small tent set up near the cart and smoke drifted up from a recently extinguished campfire.
Holly rolled onto her hip and opened her backpack. She reached in and retrieved a small glass jar. There was a small amount of clear liquid at the bottom of the jar. Purified water. There was only enough left for a few mouthfuls.
She had tried to ration her water as best she could after being expelled from Vault 690. She'd been warned to only use the water for drinking and to only sip it as needed. But having grown up bathing on a daily basis, she was loathe to skip on washing herself and had gone through her water supplies rapidly.
Her mouth felt as dry as her surroundings. Cracked, brown earth stretched out in every direction below the hill. The ground was pockmarked with small, light green shrubs.
She opened the jar and tipped it up to her lips, only intending to take a small sip, and swished the water around in her mouth before swallowing it. When she brought the jar back down, her heart sank as she realized she had drunk all the remaining water. She was already dehydrated and would only make it a couple days at most if she didn't find more.
The jar made a quiet thump as she tossed it to the side onto a soft stretch of dirt. She reached back into her backpack and pulled out a set of black binoculars and lifted them to her eyes. She trained them on the cart then swept her view left and right along the road next to the cart.
She had come upon the cart the day before. When she'd first spotted it, she beeline right for it, fully intending to resupply herself, until a man had appeared from the far side of the cart. Thankfully it was just after sunset and Holly had been able to stop short of the cart and backtrack away without revealing herself. She quietly scurried up the hillside behind the cart and watched the man below. He was carrying a large, silver-barreled rifle. From the looks of it, it looked capable of automatic fire.
The man's torso and legs were covered in tan leather armor. It was dusty and marked with cuts and gouges. It looked fairly thin but had apparently done its job of taking abuse that the man's body wouldn't have suffered so well. His muscular arms were exposed and tan from toiling under the sun of the Wasteland. His head was shaved close to his scalp. A dark brown beard covered most of his face making it difficult to determine his age. Holly estimated him to be in his 50s or 60s.
Holly had lain on top of the hill next to the cart and watched the man as darkness moved in. She had hoped for a moment when he'd leave the cart unattended during the night but he never did. Twice, her hand had swept over the laser pistol holstered on her hip. From this distance, she was sure she could hit him. The problem was that if she didn't take him down before he shot back, she'd be done for. The cloth of her thin blue vault suit provided no protection whatsoever. It was basically a cloth shirt with a matching pair of cloth pants.
This morning, Holly had awoken to find the man gone. Her joy had been short lived as she spotted a figure in the distance walking down the road pushing a small, metal wire pushcart. The person, a man, shuffled as he walked, kicking up a small cloud of dust behind him. A rifle was slung over his shoulder. As the figure drew closer, she had recognized him as the man from the day before.
When he had reached his camp, Holly could see the pushcart partially filled with mostly unidentifiable items. The man unslung his rifle and leaned it against a large box. He removed the few items from the pushcart and swapped them out with items from the larger cart that the brahmin was attached to. He had worked until the pushcart was filled.
A small box slid off the pile and the man lunged quickly to catch it. He shook his head and seemed to wince in pain. He wedged the box into the side of the cart, leaning in with his body and pushing on it until it stayed in place. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and then disappeared around the side of the large cart behind a stack of large boxes. Holly was unable to tell what he was doing and he had stayed out of sight for almost an hour.
When the man re-emerged, he had picked up his rifle and slung it over his shoulder. He had pivoted the pushcart and pushed it up onto the road and set off in the opposite direction from where he'd previously come. Holly had waited half an hour to make sure the man was gone. During that time she'd drunk the last of her water.
Fairly confident that the man would be gone for awhile, Holly returned the binoculars to her backpack. She got up to her knees and placed her arms through the pack's straps. She took a moment to dust off her blue vault suit before getting to her feet.
Stepping carefully, she sidestepped her way down the hillside. It was steeper on this side than on the backside that she'd climbed the day before. As she stepped, she briefly lost her footing and knocked a rock out of place. It bounced free and rolled down the hill, picking up speed and making more noise as it went. It came to a stop with a loud knock against the side of a wooden crate. The brahmin head that wasn't tethered let out a loud groan in response.
Holly continued down the hillside until she was down on level ground. She wasted no time before moving into the camp and rifling through the contents of the boxes around her. She found random pieces of scrap metal, cloth, plastic bags marked "fertilizer", and other plastic bags marked "concrete."
She continued her search and came upon several boxes filled with stimpacks. She knew from her time in her vault that stimpacks were used to heal injuries but she had never personally seen one used. She placed several of them into her backpack.
She opened another crate and found it filled to the top with bullets. She searched the nearby crates hoping to find a gun to go with them but only found more bullets of varying sizes and shapes. In one crate she found an odd-looking oblong bullet about the size of her head. She reached in and tried to lift it out but found it deceptively heavy. It was made of metal and had fins on one end. The other end had a faded yellow strip of paint going all the way around. There was a yellow painted triangle about halfway down with some sort of writing that was scratched and faded away to the point of being illegible.
Holly shut the crate and continued her search. She opened one of the small crates near the tent. There were about a dozen glass bottles filled with brown liquid. She lifted one of the bottles and observed its red and white label marked "Nuka Cola." Holly had never heard of it before and wondered if it was drinkable. She placed it in her backpack along with two more bottles.
She pivoted around on her heels and her eyes fell on the tent. It was simple in construction and was no more than a large, dirty white cloth draped over a series of poles in the ground. She walked over to it and poked her head inside. She smiled to herself at the feel of the cooler, shaded air on her face. There was a bedroll on the ground and two small, flat boxes in the corner. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled into the tent. She lay down flat on the bedroll and took a moment to enjoy its softness. It had been days since she'd felt something soft against her body.
She only lingered for a few moments before crawling on her stomach until she reached the flat boxes in the corner. The one on top was grey. With the way the faint light in the tent slid off the box, she couldn't tell if it was made of metal or plastic. As she reached for it, there was a click behind her that made her heart leap into her throat.
"Okay asshole, come out of there! Nice and slow!" a deep voice boomed from outside the tent.
Trembling, Holly shuffled backwards on her stomach. When her feet got outside the tent, she got up onto her knees.
"I said 'slow' damnit!" A foot kicked her in the butt and she fell onto her chest, knocking the wind out of her.
