abstracts | the story in which Alex Seattle Geer is right for hating enclosed spaces,

Entry tags:

fallout

the story in which Alex Seattle Geer is right for hating enclosed spaces,

and Neil Park is blamed for his knowledge of vaults.

Terminal Entries:

1st Floor, Vault Entry-Room Computer:
- Data Entry 1: Year 20XX, Month XX; There's no escape.
- Holotape Entry 1: Y#4@ SDhig^8705 H98 [data corrupted]; This is hell and I want out of it.

1st Floor, Cafeteria Luncheon:
- Holotape Entry 2: Private Recording; I've had better?

1st Floor, Cafeteria Supply Room:
- Inventory List: Inventory List; A list of food....
- Data Entry 2: Shift Notes; Maybe I should tear the walls down.

1st Floor, Broken Cave:
- Data Entry 3: Preparations; Everything's fine.
- Data Entry 4: Near the End; I'll tell you the truth, but I won't give up my soul.
- Data Entry 5: Finally, the End is at Hand.; This is far enough.

1st Floor, Office:
- Data Entry 6: Vault-Wide Public Service Announcement; Get back to work everyone.
- Data Entry 7: Locked Administrative Reply; You're reaching for straws.

1st Floor, Administrative Secretary's Office:
- Data Entry 8: Drama Hoes; It is sort of funny that people aren't able to lie, though.
- Holotape Entry 3: Bill Self-Log; Byron's access still works everywhere.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Alex mutters along as he reads. ]

...Digging never ends well. You'll wake up things that should keep sleeping.

[ And didn't he know that? ]

I'm curious, though. What was the thing that set all these people off, if he's telling the truth?

[Alex speaks as if his truth comes from experience, and it is truth that Neil cannot get out of his head. The holodisk revealed a blatancy gone wrong, they've been shamelessly confessing the aspects dug deep within themselves, and everything-- Everything comes down to--

In the throes of his fixation, Neil barely catches the scratching. It is faint, nearly inaudible, but it is enough for the man to raise an eyebrow.

His concentration split, he murmurs distractedly:]

Vault 92 had subliminal suggestions. Vault 106 had psychoactive drugs. Vault 108 gave them armaments in place of their entertainment. This vault...

[It couldn't be? It sounds retarded, but--]

[ Alex pauses, glancing at Neil. He knew that Wanderer had been to a shit ton of Vaults, but these ones... Hmm. ]

You got an idea?

[The prompting is enough for Neil to divulge. Or perhaps it is this place? After all:]

The truth. I think that's what was setting them off.

[And was (is) setting them off.]

[ This is enough for Alex to half turn away from the screen. The shuffling is starting to be heard more clearly, but a glance at the dying molerat just shows the same struggles. ]

The truth I can get--

[ Because it's too alike with what they've been doing--though it adds an awkward attribute to the time spent here. There's a lot that could be learned in a short time with two people and a tendency for the truth. ]

But why would it make them murderous and crazy?

[It's distracting, that noise, especially as it lacks a source. Neil, however, steps up to the question with a hopefully suitable answer.]

Because lies and secrets help people get along when they're locked in a cramped space underground. You remember that recording? The woman tossed him out when he told her the truth of their little 'soiree'.

Hmm. I don't know if I'm buying it.

[ Anger and resentment was a lot different than what was being insinuated--and where the author was likely crazy, it didn't mean he was wrong. Randall Clark was a paranoid survivalist, but he was an amazingly talented and insightful individual.

Alex can't make up his mind on it. ]

Let's see what else there is first.

Terminal Entries:

- Finally, the End is at Hand.

"He's dead. Shouldn't I have guessed it? It came out--all of it. The experiments, the gas, the testing--why wouldn't he be dead after that? By his own hand or someone else's--

Oh god, Julie. She was working with him on the air filtration, but--

No, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters now. It's okay, it's okay. This is far enough. I'm done. This is fine. I haven't lost myself; I won't lose myself. No wrath or envy, no fear or hate, no lust or gluttony. I'm still me. I'm still me.

There once was hopes and dreams and I wanted a life that meant something.

She said that I had the potential to do anything, but now... Everything ends, and people--

They get to you, get under your skin and tear at your insides, and it's all so damn worthless.

But I know things were better once. I know these were people once, people I loved and dreamed with. But that's over now. A dragon in a dark tunnel, and this is hell, and I want out of it.

Then things will be simple again."

[He has further theories, but as stated, they must see. And see they do for this next bit rings too familiar to keep quiet.]

Hey. Haven't we heard this before?

[To demonstrate, Neil points two fingers to his temple, his hand the shape of a gun.]

Bang.

[ He stares at the terminal for a moment, mouth a tight line. ]

Yeah. We have. A miserable end. Nothing to be proud of.

[ Not like Randall Clark. A journal of death but different in yet another way. ]

Why does it always seem like the people who went into Vaults are the worst at surviving?

[The question Alex poses proves too easy an answer, unlike the others.

Neil sighs.]

Because survival runs contrary to the end goal.

[ Alex isn't as involved in the history of the Vaults--his most personal feeling come in the form of Vault 22 and the horrors that it unleashed. He makes an irritated sound between his teeth and steps back from the terminal--

The dying molerat gives a soft sound, and Alex looks to it, just in time to catch movement coming from the hole, a flash of overlarge eyes and rough skin, claws pulling the dying animal into the deeper earth, and--

And Alex's flaregun is in his hands and fired before the thought completes: One shot to set the creature aflame and fleeing backwards in startlement, and four more shots down the tunnel it fled into. ]

Fuck!

[ Is the passionate outburst; a hand through his hair, eyes wide-- He stares into the glow the flares give off, watching for movement.

The hand holding the flaregun trembles once. ]

I cannot let them get outside.

[It is more the Courier's reaction rather than the new entity (so that is where the scratching was coming from) that starts Neil straight to his feet. The Kneecapper is out and raised toward the tunnel, but something tells the young man he's missing several vital pieces.]

And what exactly is 'them'?

Tunnelers. No-- Wait--

[ He turns wild eyes on Neil, holds a hand out. ]

You have grenades, right?

[ Dynamite would be better, but-- ]

Give me all that you have.

[ There it movement in that dark; more of the creatures, hovering just past the dying flares. ]

[These Tunnelers have Alex Seattle Gear in a panic. Neil Park has never seen the man before him so agitated as he does now.

The detail, however, will need to wait. He pulls four of the requested from an accessible place on his pack. Two he hands to Alex, and one Neil pulls out the pin with his thumb.

This he throws into the dark as he darts for better cover. The frag grenade explodes a beat after impact, sending shrapnel in every direction.]

[ Neil is quick to react but not in the way Alex wants. This has the potential to get insanely messy if they don't communicate--especially as the grenade he set off helps the flares go out.

He shifts the grenades to one hand and shoots two flares down the tunnel. The damn kid better listen to him. ]

Throw four flashbangs as far as you can down the tunnel. The grenades we need to pull the rock down right here.

[ To close the tunnel, Neil Park. To prevent the Mojave from dying a second time. ]

[Apparently, that isn't the correct choice, but Neil can't afford to pick apart the reasons now.

Especially when Alex has a plan.]

Take this, then!

[Holstering the sawed-off shotgun, Neil tosses the other man the remaining grenade. Wasting no time, he procures four flashbangs from the same pack, unpins and sends each one far down the tunnel as instructed.]

Then go!

[ The flashbangs go off, there's a sound reminiscent to the ones he hears in his dreams, and Neil darts back, ducking down through the tunnel they came through. Alex grabs at Neil's pack as he does so, scooping out an armful of grenades.

Well, this will be fun.

Alex waits until he knows the kid is at least mostly through, steps to the hole, and in rapid succession, pulls the pins out of sixteen grenades, then half-hopelessly dives for the tunnel.

This isn't going to end well. ]

[Sixteen frag grenades cause an explosion strong enough to collapse a man-made tunnel and the walls of the closet to shake. Neil rolls away from the entryway, hands over his head to protect it from debris or projectiles.

The tremors eventually stop, allowing the man to remove his hands and look around. He finds Alex on the ground, the older man's current appearance suggesting potential injury.

Neil blinks as he rushes over, his mind processing a million miles a second.]

Alex!

[A slab of rock appears to have landed on Alex's leg, which Neil wastes no time removing.]

You okay?

[ There's a headache burning behind his eyes--that's what he notices first. He's on the ground and there's only the rattle of stones instead of an explosion, which means he blacked out for a moment there. The headache is first--Neil's voice is second.

The kid is at his side near instantly, showing more concern than Alex can ever remember seeing. There's some damage, he knows, but nothing a doctor's bag and some stimpacks won't cure. Nah, that's not important. This reaction is. He props himself up on an arm and reaches the other hand, bloody and dirty, to Neil's jaw, to move in a kiss. ]

[The older man seems dazed. And hurt, of course-- There are patches of blood, mixing against dirt and grime, but nothing appears fatal. Neil sighs, relieved, his mind slowing down to a steady beat.

He is about to fetch his wayward pack when a hand touches his jawline, pulling him in a kiss. This, of course, is taken as well as anything can be.

Neil lingers for a second before snapping back in surprise.]

Jesus, Alex, lay the fuck back down!

[ He laughs.

It's honest and open, and he just laughs for a moment, before rolling a little onto his good side to dig out his medkit. ]

You think this is the first time I've been hurt, kid? Half the time ED-E's not even here to help. When Vault 11 decided to try and kill me, it took me damn near hours to try and patch myself up.

[ He digs out the doctor's bags. First things first. ]

Gotta say, though, I love your concern.

[He cannot help himself. Neil growls--in a very non-threatening manner.]

I'm not a moron, if that is what you're implying.

[Just acting very out of character. Worry, especially for another, rarely touches the surface.

He deflates grudgingly, allowing Alex to tend to his own, even if he's severely tempted to snatch the doctor's bag away from the man. Or fuck, what the hell, he'll do exactly that.

Almost angrily, Neil reaches out and grabs the doctor's bag out of Alex's hands.]

Nope. Not this time.

[ Alex's hands release the bag in surprise, watching as Neil sets it up almost angrily. Caught somewhere between amused and pleased, Alex watches while Neil carefully peels up his pant leg and applies the first doctor's bag to the crippled limb.

Despite himself, he can't not comment. ]

...You really are concerned about me.

[Complications war within the Lone Wanderer. There are too many fuzzy soft aspects clashing against jagged glass, yet he does not hesitate in his task.

The comment sets something off, and without looking up, he mutters angrily.]

Yeah, I've been concerned about you a shit ton lately.

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