"...Three balls, two strikes. One out. Nobody on. Three nothing Boston. Fifth Inning.
Stafford delivers and Casby takes it outside for ball four...again he walks. Second-time Casby walks ahead of Williams and Wartz. He's batting 3-13. Head's to the box to play second...and single. One out. Stafford in the stretch.
Ground ball hits and he backhands it to Kubuec for one. Back to first! Too late. They got Casby.
Kubuec, not off the bag, but leaning towards home plate side and he reached for the ball, so he was not in a stand-up position to throw to first where he could get any speed behind it, defeating the double play.
It's the fourth out to second...Garren to Kubuec.
Wiliams on first and the bat is quick work he tries to swing to the left to drive in the Red Sox's run in the third inning."

\111/
October 23rd, 2077
Sanctuary Hills, Concord.

A five-minute shower was all Nate had known for the last four years of his life. Three hundred seconds of pure hot water streaming out and splashing down onto his skin. In ten seconds, he poured out soap from a plastic squeeze bottle and mushed it into his hair. More soap went onto a brush, and Nate went to furiously scrubbing all parts of his body.

From his ears to his toes, the seconds ticked off in his head as he set his scrub brush down and placed one hand on the faucet. A small piece of water-resistant tape over a small bump on his right bicep, he took care not to agitate it too much.

Naked, he shuddered. Four minutes and thirty-nine seconds. He allowed himself a whole twenty-one seconds of relaxation in the hot shower to relax.

At the end of those five minutes, Nate turned the shower off and let the droplets drip off him. Panting, he stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel.

"Towel, sir?" Blinking the water out of his eyes, a metallic claw gripping a sea-foam green towel was extended out to him as he pulled back the shower curtain. Nate took a step back, then reached for a pro-offered towel by their latest investment, Codsworth.

"Thank you, Codsworth." His gentleman's demeanor was very well adjusted and reliable to concept and strategy formulation. General Atomics Industries can be thanked for their millions of man-hours spent on coding and capping counter-safety measures to any types of accidents from happening. It said so right on the box when they bought it.

"You're quite welcome, sir. Do you require anything else?" Cosworth's tone was programmed to always be slightly upbeat, and the intelligence allowed for personality to develop over time. This followed the owner's preferences and commands, cataloging them for future reference.

"I set a white shirt and briefs down in the master bedroom, on top of the cabinet drawers. Could you please grab them for me?" Nate asked Cosworth's thrusters kicked into action.

"Of course, I'll retrieve the clothes you requested immediately."

Drying himself off, Codsworth reappeared with clothes in hand and waited for Nate to dress.

"My father...my father..." He said to himself in the mirror. Clearing his throat with an 'Eh-hum'
"My father fought in Afghanistan before I was born. He was able to see her through a video screen, and he said to me seeing my mother's face without being able to touch her left him with similar questions my grandfather had during the Tet Offensive in Vietnam, only this time it was a photograph. These questions are the same ones every soldier will ask. Even my great-grandfather..." He said into the mirror, meeting his own eyes. "A soldier in World War Two constantly wondered when he would see his wife and son again."

"In Anchorage, those same thoughts were with me. Would I see them? Would I ever step through the threshold of an open door into a house with a wife and son? What's changed in the last hundred years since my relative asked these questions, even before thatwhat changed in the time when two .380 bullets pitted nations against each other?

Nothing. War is war." Sighing into the mirror, Nate rubbed his chin, feeling for any sign of stubble.

"You're going to knock them dead at the Veteran's Ball tonight." A warm flow of blood filled his chest as he heard his wife, Nora, slide up next to him in the bathroom.

Their eyes met in the reflection of the mirror, "You think so? I think I need to keep working on it."

"It sounded great. Now get ready and stop hogging the mirror." Nora ran a hand up Nate's back and rested it on his shoulder,

"Right." The bit of affection sent his way immediately perked him up. Running a razor over the rough edges, Nate rubbed his hands along the neck. Engrained habits made Nate shave until his chin was as smooth as the warm steel pressed against it.

Swishing his razor around in the water, he tapped it against the side of the porcelain sink and stepped back.

"Looking good, honey." Nora flirted, coaxing a smile out of Nate.

Nate moved through his new home, trying to place the feelings in his heart. The home was a bit cookie-cutter in design, all the houses in Sanctuary Hills were more or less the same except for the type of car in the driveway, and the people living within. The bright painted colors of yellow, green, blue, pink, purple, red, white, orange, and black. It was home. A chill ran through his neck and shoulders.

Nate was home. He could see his wife. Taking two steps into his right, he could see his infant son too. He was shaking in his skin, beside himself for having made it home. His fingers felt extremely cold, unbearably cold, blood as cold as ice water running through them. Walking to the crib, Nate gripped the wooden frame and waited for the feeling to pass. He reached down and caressed Shaun's face. Above the crib hung a red rocket mobile, he gave it a light push and winced as he listened to the jingle.

Nate felt like he was wrapped inside a metal shell of power armor, the padding kept him in place while the excess heat from the suit's fusion core kept his limbs warm. The only exception was his fingers. Curling them again for warmth. With a rifle in his hands, and an eighty mile per hour wind whipping over the flat wetlands. Bullets were flying off course, everyone was having difficulty finding their marks. Two men were clinging to him like a telephone pole, trying not to be blown away as he could only take one short step at a time. The wind whistled past the helmet's microphones, sending constant noise interference and background noise through the feed. Three dogs were crawling through tall grass, their handlers right behind them on the lookout for landmines. The memories kept flooding into his mind and gripped at his chest.

'Schlop, pant, sch-lick, pant, pant, pant.' Meathead licked his lips and stood right next to Nate beside Shaun's crib. Brushing against Nate and panting heavily, he shook himself from the memory stupor and smiled.

"Hey, Meathead," He said, petting and scratching the German Shepard's ears. Meathead sniffed Nate's hands up and down, then he went to smelling the crib and peering through the bars to see Shaun.

Meathead followed Nate down the hallway, past Nora still getting ready in the bathroom, and into the kitchen. Codsworth happily beamed when Nate entered his radius of awareness. "Good morning sir! Your coffee is ready! One hundred ninety-two and five degrees, brewed to perfection." The robot was a curious design, three eye lens at 0, 90, and 180 degrees around the head that can swivel and turn in all different directions at the same time for a complete 360-degree view. They were connected by metal tendons back to a large grey steel balloon with a jet thruster attached. This allowed Codsworth to float and hover in place. Three long metallic arms, each attached with different utensils, a buzz saw, a flamethrower, and a deactivated plasma caster for home defense. Nate knew the switch and verbal phrase to activate it, but until Shaun was out of the house, he had his own rifle.

Several.

Nine to be exact and they were all loaded. Nora knew it, Codsworth knew it, Nate knew it, even Meathead knew it from watching him while cleaning them.

"Thank you, Codsworth." He said, accepting a small twelve-ounce porcelain coffee cup.

Turning on his heel, he sipped at the hot drink and caught sight of Nora coming in for a kiss. Meathead happily wagged his tail, looking up at the both of them. He was the first to notice movement from outside the bay window and barked loudly.

The couple broke their kiss and jerked their heads to a man in a yellow trench coat, calmly walking up to their front door. Parked along the curb was a blue van with large yellow letters reading "Vault-Tec: We'll Be There!"

"It must be that salesman, he comes for you every day," Nora said, sipping on her own coffee.

"How long has he been coming?" Nate asked,

"A few days?" Nora replied.

"What does he want?" Nora shrugged, Cosworth's eye cones rolled upwards away from Nate towards the kitchen.

"Let's find out what he wants then."

Pulling open the door, sunshine came down onto the shoulders of a man wearing a bright yellow trench coat and a similarly colored fedora with an orange band. His red hair, brown eyes, and bright smile was a positive display of showmanship from Vault Technologies Incorporated. "Good morning! Vault-Tec. calling. How are you today?"

"Feeling Fine. How are you?" Nate replied.

"Good! Good. Nice to find you, sir, you don't know how happy I am to finally speak with you. I've been trying for days, it's a matter of utmost urgency! I assure you." Nate tensed offering a light smile.

Meathead barked twice, Nate glanced to his left and then asked: "Where's the fire?"

"If you haven't noticed sir, this country has gone to hell in a handbasket, if you'll pardon my language. The big kaboom is inevitable, and I'm afraid coming sooner than you think if you catch my meaning." He held up a hand to his chest and realigned his thoughts. Where was this man's bible?

"Now I know you're a busy man, so I won't take up too much of your time. Time is a precious commodity. I'm here to tell you that thanks to your family's service to our country, you've been pre-selected for entry into the local vault; Vault 111." With a wide smile, the Vault-Tec. representative spread his arms open and upwards.

"There's room for my entire family, right?" He said, looking over his shoulder

"Of course!" The representative beamed, "We've even got the room for Fido over there! Vault-Tec. Research and Development strongly encouraged families to bring their pets to improve morale and the body's immune system while adapting to a new sterile environment. Minus the robot, naturally."

"Would you mind running that last bit by me?"

"Oh, of course!" Clasping his hands together, "This won't really affect the first generation like you, however as things stay squeaky clean in the vault humans collectively lose their immunity to viruses and diseases. Science has shown that animals living alongside newborn infants improve that child's abilities to fight off infectious diseases and are less likely to develop allergies when they're much older!"

"I did not know that." Nate mused, caught unaware that he was breathing heavily through his nose.

"In fact, you're already cleared for entrance! I'm talking about being able to move in today! It's only a matter of verifying some information. We don't want any holdups in the unforeseen event of total atomic annihilation. Hehe." He chuckled weakly, Nate's eyes caught the uncertainty, and to his left. Meathead growled low in his throat. "It won't take but a moment." The representative eyes flicked to Nora and Codsworth over Nate's shoulder's, then to Meathead. The shepherd bared its teeth, not liking the Vault-Tec. Representative and he drummed his fingers quickly on the underside of the clipboard.

"End of the world? Tempting." Nate teased. The Vault-Tec. representative smiled and gave a more convincing laugh.

"Ha HA! That's the spirit." The representative held out a clipboard with a short stack of papers. "We managed to work all legalities out down to four forms in quadruplicate. One for you, one for the local Vault-Tec. branch, one for HQ, and one for Uncle Sam."

"Makes sense." Nate mused, he knew that someone somewhere who liked to keep everything organized. Grinning to himself, 'The mob is organized. That's why it's called organized crime.' There's never a better or more efficient distribution system that's under more intense scrutiny than the one designed by a cartel. Organized crime was a forklift operator trying to find room for another six-foot tall pallet of hundred dollar bills in their massive Super Duper Mart sized warehouse. While as the U.S. government was the guy collecting rent off that same warehouse.

Signing on the black line next to all the red X's, he passed the clipboard back to the representative. He tore off Nate's copy and handed it over to him.

"Wonderful. Thank you. Congratulations on being prepared for the future. Just gonna go...run this over to the vault. If you get the chance, please go pop your head in and say hello!" Nate closed the door and sighed. "We'll be there!" The representative called out with finality.

"He seemed tense," Nate said, pulling himself away from the closed door. The Vault-Tec. van started up and shifted into gear. The engine roared as the accelerator peaked in a residential area down the street.

"He's expecting a nuke to drop on us at any second, of course, he's tense. He's paid by a company of tense people. It's a peace of mind too." Nora said. The household was calm, only it was a few moments later that same peace was broken by Shaun crying. Codsworth was moving in an instant.

"Oh, sounds like someone made a stinky!"

Nate flopped down onto the couch, not yet engrossed in the news program going on about the new open border policy with the territory of Canada. "Heh, thank God for the guy who wrote the code to a diaper changing protocol. That guy must be a billionaire now." He joked with Nora, thinking more along the lines of multi-billionaires.

"Shaun has been serviced and cared for, but I believe he requires what you would call parental affection," Codsworth called out, Shaun was still crying, not receiving any attention at the moment.

They both rocked to their feet, moving for Shaun's room in a heartbeat. Nora reached the room first, and she leaned over the crib. Whispering quietly, she calmed the little ball of energy. Just a gentle touch made his cries drop down to a whimper,

"I was thinking after breakfast, we could take Shaun and Meathead on a walk to the park, and if the weather holds...maybe I'll bring a bottle of wine and a little something else for a picnic?" She grinned and looked down towards Shaun.

"You had me at wine," Nate said, cozying up next to Nora's side. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he was about to bring it in for one more kiss when Meathead barked madly from the living room. This was a type of barking that let the owners know an intruder was in the house, or worse, someone was hurt.

"Sir! There's something on the news!" Nate tisked, missing his opportunity when Codsworth yelled, "New York was nuked!"

They had already taken two steps towards the living room before Codsworth's announcement, then they bolted to the television. Meathead's barking was loud, cutting off to a whimper, bolting for the door, he scratched at it and whimpered. Barking again, Nate tried to quiet him with a loud, "MEATHEAD! SHUSH!"

Codsworth was holding the remote in his claws, they gathered around it to watch the news reporter on the other end of a camera lens slowly lose his faith in humanity.

"Yes...Flashes. Blinding flashes. Sounds of explosions, reports." He swallowed, coughing once. "Reports of nuclear detonations in...New York...Washington D.C...and we lost contact... With everyone?...Everyone? With everyone?" He mouthed the last two words again. The newscaster looked off to the right. His face sunk in, and the papers he was gripping in his hands crumpled into a ball. His entire body shuddered, and for a few more brief seconds, he squeezed the last bit of life into signing off.

With a confused frown, that shifted to a tepid smile.

Nate saw the life leave his eyes like a fish that was gutted from head to tail. The screen cut to a haunting image of "Please Stand By" appeared in the middle of the day. The TV was out.

Sirens louder than Meathead's panicked barking split the air, Codsworth retracted his arms and dropped to the floor. The jet thruster shut down as quickly as a switch was thrown. No shutdown procedure, nothing. Nate stood up and felt the blood rush from his feet to his head. Following Nora, as ran for Shaun, "I've got Shaun!" She yelled, "Get the dog!"

"Come here, Meathead!" The German Shepard was at Nate's feet in a heartbeat. Tail wrapped around his legs and shivering. He yelled, slapping a leash on Meathead's collar. "Calm down, calm down." He said, frantically petting Meathead on the back of the neck.

Throwing open the door, Shaun was wrapped in Nora's arms. Nate grabbed her and squeezed them tight. "To the vault! Now! Let's go! Let's go!" Meathead darted forward to the end of the leash, trying to pull the family along faster. Meathead wouldn't stop barking as other people burst out of their homes, bundles of clothing in hand, or a family portrait, some carried cups of coffee or tried shoving everything on the kitchen table into a bag or backpack and they were haphazardly stuffed.

The sirens were twice as loud outside, cutting through the air like a razor. Everyone was outside, front doors left wide open as people scrambled for a small footpath that cut behind Sanctuary Hills, over a river, and around a bend up to the top of the hill looking out over Concord and a good view of the Commonwealth.

Their neighbors were feeling the same fears as they were. Meathead whining increased, vertibird helicopters raced through the air spouting off a last ditched message to coral people towards safety. "Residents of Sanctuary Hills, if you are registered, proceed to Vault 111 immediately." Coming into hard rough stops atop the bunker hill. The pilots didn't care, the soldiers didn't care, the clock had struck zero and there was no time left.

Nate's arms were cold as his feet pounded against the dirt. Nora was directly in front of him, he would make sure that Nora was safe inside the bunker no matter what.

Nate imagined what he would do to make sure his family was safe. Flames came to mind, he would burn down the pillars supporting hell itself to clear a path and make sure they were safe. "We're going to be okay!" Nate shouted, "We still have time before the missiles strike! If they turned on the sirens now, we should have plenty of time! All right, Nora? We're going to be okay! The detection system we have gives us plenty of time!" Honestly, he had no idea if they were going to be burnt shadows on the sidewalk in two seconds or ten minutes, but to see her move with hope and pick up her speed, Nate said whatever he needed to, to make sure they reached their end goal.

A soldier stood proudly on the trail, pointing up the hill towards a billboard advertising Vault-Tec. Industries and how you should 'reserve your spot before it's too late'. and a crowd of people. "Vault residents check in at the gate!"

Time is the only thing the poor and disparaged have, the rich have power and wealth, but they're constantly demanding more time to accomplish even greater feats. Ask the poorest of the poor, they've got all the time in the world to wait things out. This is it, they waited, and they can keep on waiting until the mushroom clouds pass over because today they will finally inherit the earth. This is the moment they've been waiting for. The rich are going away to become poor because once the doors close, they'll have all the time in the world too.

The voices they passed were filled with uncertainty and dread, Meathead moaned. "You're going to let us in?" With the unspoken word of "Right?" implied. "You need to let us in. You have to let us in." Guards were only letting registered residents in, no one else.

"You can't do this! I AM Vault-Tec! I'm going in there!" The representative shouted, a power armor wearing, minigun-wielding soldier spun the barrels, telling the representative to leave. The representative threw up his arms and ran, meeting Nate and Nora's eyes briefly, Nate thrust his arm out into a deadlock. Forcing the man to run into his outstretched palm, "Duffle bag, closet, master bedroom. It's loaded." He said, reaching and grabbing ahold of the representative's shirt, he forced him back down the trail with a push.

Nora stopped, "Nate," she said, the voice spoke volumes above the rest of the neighbors, gathered together and panicking in fear. Nate was filled with pride and relief in a hearing that single word. They were at the back of a line of people stopped at a chain link fence trying to get into the vault. He stood tall and straight, marching to the front of the line. Chest out, chin straight, staring down the Vault-Tec. Security with the same intensity as a Staff Sergent mad eyeing a new recruit on the first day.

"That man delivered our paperwork, we're on the list, we need to get in." He said with chiseled authority, the kind that you can't learn, it needs to be engrained into your skull from service.

The guard looked them up and down, "Infant, adult male, adult female, male dog. Go in. Good Luck and may God have mercy on the rest of us."

A guard in armored blue vault suit shouted, "You two! Follow me!" Waving Nora through first, they ran up the path dirt to a large group of people standing on a metal elevated platform. "What's going to happen to all the people outside the gate?"

Oh, Nora, you already know the answer to that question, why ask it?

"Onto the platform! That's it! We're sending this down now!" Breaking off from Nate, Nora, Shaun, and Meathead, the guard ran up to a small control booth, brought in by a trailer hitch and raised up with wires coming out the door, running all over the ground and some going straight down into the earth. Yellow warning lights flicked on, as a loud whining buzzer sounded off as the whole platform lurched. The operator typed on a single computer monitor, spamming the enter key, as the guard pressed a smooth red button with a divot in the center.

"We're almost there! We're going to be okay." Nate said, looking into Nora, wrapping his arms around her and Shaun. Meathead was shy, whining at their heels, and leaning into them for safety.

"I love you."

The air was ripped from his lungs as he was witness to a flash of light brighter than burning white-hot rage.

This was fear, two neighbors collapsed at the sight, Nate closed his eyes and held his chest up, arms close to his side with Nora in one arm, Shaun in hers, and Meathead howling away, and he felt like he was in the army again.

It was like the sun was enveloping the earth. Nora was in disbelief, unable to understand what she was looking at. A wall of heat, dust, and smoke taller than skyscrapers stacked on top of each other. Taller than volcanic plumes of smoke and ash reaching high into the sky washed over the landscape as the large mushroom head billowed outwards. She screamed at the sight of a flaming car sailed two hundred feet over their heads like a rocket, streaking across the sky. The car kept going until it disappeared out of sight over the highland hills towards Maine.

\111/

Downwards they went, two large metal doors slid over the top of the elevator shaft, meeting in the middle to seal them in.

Their collective hearts were beating out of their chests and a few of their neighbor's teeth were chattering. Meathead whined and laid down, covering his face with his paws.

The elevator shaft was ringed with painted blue and yellow stainless steel with plastic paint so thick that you would need a knife to scrape at it. But, it would also peel away too if it ever started to wear down and tear. Much like the cookie-cutter houses of Sanctuary Hills, there was an immediate sense of how quickly things were installed.

"We did it, we made it." One of their neighbors, Mrs. Panderosa, said.

A large curved blue gate slowly rose upwards and a loud voice called out. A man illuminated by a spotlight shining from behind him wore a blue leather suit with a yellow stripe running down the center. "Everyone please step off the elevator and proceed up the stairs in an orderly fashion. No need to worry, you're safe down here!"

The first people took a wary approach to the stairs, filing into a single line as they passed the Overseer of the vault.

Nora held Shaun tight in her arms, feeling secure, but not safe. There was a reasonable explanation for this, shock, she realized. "Honey, my arms are..." Like holding lead balloons, she was unable to say.

"Do you want me to hold Shaun?" Nate asked she shook her head, reaffirming her grip on the baby.

"No, it's just that I'm feeling a little shaken up."

"Nora, we all just survived a nuclear blast. I just want to get to our room and cry about it, I'm all shook up." He said, dropping his voice down to sound like Elvis about to break out in song.

Reaching out and squeezing her hand, Nora sobbed once as her face became flush red, holding back sobs of panic and relief as the small touch calmed her.

"Right. Let's just get through their shpeil."

"Right this way, we'll get everyone situated in your new home vault 111. A better future, underground." A security guard standing rigidly upright wore a helmet with grey visor and arms folded behind his back. He eyed each and every newcomer as they marched up the stairs and across a yellow metal catwalk through the interior vault door passageway.

In a large foyer, a banner was hung high close to the ceiling that read, 'Welcome Home!' with Vault-Boy reaching his arm and hand out to greet the newcomers. Large sensors lined each side of the catwalk. At the end of the catwalk, a scientist silently read his monitor readings, as a second greeter opened a thigh-height gate. A scientist standing next to a large instrument panel with a Pip-boy connected to it by a long black power cable.

"This way, please. Step over to the table." She waved them through, gesturing them to a collapsible table with boxes of Vault Suits stacked around it.

The new residents of Vault 111 were shown to a woman holding up blue one-piece vault suits, and a doctor standing quietly behind her, arms hanging loosely at his side. There were enough vault suits in every size for the entire population to last three hundred years.

"Here you go," she said with a wide smile. A thump from above made everyone's eyes flick upwards for a moment. Halting the greeting process, Nate accepted his with a polite, "Thanks." Everyone shifted back into motion.

The doctor stepped forward as the last of the new vault dwellers were passed their new uniforms. "If I could have everyone's attention, I realize everyone that this wasn't what you imagined but I want everyone to take solace that you survived. If you would please follow me, we have a few things to cover before orientation and I know everyone needs a moment to desensitize, but I ask of you your patience... Our first step will be going through a decontamination process where you will enter a private chamber and change into the uniform that has been provided for you."

Passing through an open set of hydraulic floodgates, the doctor's tone tried to remain upbeat as a woman's faithless voice tried to remain calm and collected.

"It's all gone, our home is gone. Everything. My parents down in D.C. My cousins in New York. Even my aunt in Montreal."

The doctor spoke a bit louder to dry and drown out the negative pretenses happening a few feet away. The group of twelve people with Meathead following along were lead forward, "You're going to love it here! This is one of the best facilities, not that others aren't just as good."

"How long do you think we'll be down here?" Nora asked everyone who already knew the answer to that question faltered for less than a second before moving on. The doctor, Nate, and a few other's who didn't want to face the future realities so quickly.

"Weee'll be covering all that with everyone in orientation." He stalled, "We just have to get through a few medical items first."

The next set of hydraulic doors rose upwards, and everyone was lead into a two-story room with air vents and thick pipes taking up the second story of the room. They were color coded, some had labels on them, other's were painted white. They all passed through, some wrapped in coils and electrical wire dropped down from the pipe chase and too small pods each marked 'Decontamination #01-#12'. There was a chill to the room that you could only feel through your exposed hands and head, the only parts not covered by the vault suits.

The doctor raised his arms back, passing the decontamination pods, each one was open and everyone passing by could see the series of spouts leading into the chamber.

More vault-tec doctors and people already here from coming down on an earlier lift were waiting for Nate and Nora's group to be lead to their own chamber.

"If you'll please just step into the chamber and put your vault suit on." The doctor's eyes trailed down to Nate's hand and the leash leading to Meathead's neck. "Do you think you can hold your dog for sixty seconds inside the chamber?" Meathead immediately picked up on the question and growled, Nate, shushed him.

"Why, what's going to happen?" The doctor looked to Nora, then back to Nate, taking a moment to look down the rows of people being helped into their own decontamination chamber. "These pods will decontaminate and depressurize you before we head into the deeper levels of the vault. The..." looking down to Meathead, the dog's head rose to meet the doctor's eyes. With a small throaty growl, he bared his fangs. "process is quite loud, and might scare him." The doctor's finger's slowly closed, balling up into a fist.

Shaun cried and the family immediately reconvened. "Hey, bud. I'm not going far, I'll just be over there." Nora's voice was shaking, her entire face turning pale as she came to accept a small piece of truth happening above their heads.

Placing one arm on Nora's shoulder, hand behind the neck to support her, he looked into her eyes and smiled. "See? Daddy's not going too far."

"Are you going to be all right?" Nate asked, Nora, put out her lip and nodded.

"I just want whatever this is, to be over quickly. I wanna sit in my room and cry." Nora pleaded, if she stood up any longer, she might just faint. Nate nodded, "It'll be over in two seconds." Nate quickly changed into his vault suit, holding onto Shaun as Nora changed into her's. This gave Nate the last few moments for him to say goodbye to his little guy.

Nora took Shaun back from Nate, then stepped up into the chamber and turned around. Accepting Shaun into her arms, he leads Meathead back to his side and climbed into his own pod.

Raising his arms wide, he beckoned Meathead to jump up into his arms. "Come on, Meathead. Come here." The dog backpedaled and pulled at the collar, trying to get away from the pod. Nate gave two small jerks on the leash and got Meathead to come close enough for Nate to reach down and pluck him off the ground.

Struggling to get comfortable in Nate's arms, Meathead radiated panic and was constantly whining low under his breath. As the front of the chamber swung down and sealed them in, the doctor looked to the left and right then announced the role of the pods for everyone again.

Nora was feeling cold, holding the little bundle of warmth in her arms closer to her heart, she cradled Shaun. Then, she looked up and saw Nate and a smile came back across her face. She reached out one hand and pressed it against the glass. Nate reached around Meathead and did the same.

"These pods will decontaminate and depressurize you before we head deeper into the vault." Meathead panicked, barking and trying to escape from the narrow confinement. Nate wrestled Meathead's muzzle shut with one hand and wrapped the other arm the dog's legs.

"Quiet, Meathead. Quiet, it'll be over soon."

<He's lying, he's lying. We're going to die, he's LYING!>

Such intense emotion forced thoughts into his brain, Nate felt the same fear and looked at Nora, suddenly feeling wrong about the whole situation.

"Just relax." Power surged through Vault 111, electricity hummed as machinery was brought into action that had been sitting idle for this one command.

"Resident Secured. Occupancy vitals, normal."

Those words both of them over the edge, once Nate heard "vitals", he knew there was something intensely wrong. Whatever kinds of pods these were, they weren't for decontamination and depressurizing.

Nate screamed. "Procedure complete. In five...four...

The doctor was lying, of course. He said the procedure would be loud, but it wasn't. A hiss of gas was the only warning any and all residents of vault 111 received before being frozen. Nate felt the cold return to his fingertips and the weight of Meathead disappeared from his arms.

The small glass porthole disappeared, and he tried to catch his breath, but it was too cold. The sound of the wind was screaming past his ears. It felt like he just landed in Cold Bay, Alaska.

\111/
October 2075.
Thirty miles from Cold Bay, Alaska.

A bright intense light shone through the glass windows, and all Nate could see was white snow. "Ah," he complained to himself, turning away from the light. Carrying fifty pounds of cold weather gear, the dull roar of the cargo plane's engines were muffled by fiberglass and steel. A voice shouted from the cockpit, that followed a row of voices from all the other soldiers surrounding him. "Wheels on the ground, About-sh five minutesh."

The flight was anything but smooth, it was by the pilot's intense flight training that the trip out to Cold Bay was being made at all. Usually, if the snow kicked up, that was the end of the story. Flight Canceled, wait until it's clear again. There was no 'it might clear up' or 'it might not be that bad'. Those people wound up dead for thinking that and going out anyway, conversely, Nate and the other soldiers thought the exact opposite and took a pilot who would fly all over from Juneau to Dutch Harbor, Anchorage to Sand Point, just about anywhere in the Aleutian Chain.

The pilot spent his entire life from the moment he turned seven learning how to fly when his father took him on a small four-seater bush plane. The benefits of owning a small plane like that in Alaska was transportation, there were only the barest hints of life every hundred miles outside of the major cities and there were people needing to get to all those places. Cold Bay was near the beginning of the Aleutian Chain, and home to the largest airstrip in the United States during World War Two. Next stop, False Pass. This airstrip was so long you could land a space shuttle from NASA and let it coast to a stop. That same flat patch of pavement with weeds and grass was now covered in three feet of snow. Snow plow trucks are running twenty-four hours a day to keep the landing zones and terminal clear, the downpour of snow was relentless. The saving grace was that it was only blowing twenty miles per hour in a southern direction. On a normal day, it could get up to blowing fifty miles per hour. The landing strips were expanded, some areas repaved, but now everything was boxed in by snow.

The engines were becoming quieter and quieter, the plane leaned to the left, circling the landing strip four times and coming down with a nice smooth landing that was only disturbed by tufts of snow building up. Jostling to a stop, everyone on the plane started clapping, starting with the co-pilot and spreading to everyone in the cabin.

"Hell of a landing." The propellers were already stopped, the engines were freezing over forty minutes out to Cold Bay, and they'd been losing altitude dramatically as they circled the landing strip.

The pilot's hands were white from gripping the throttle too hard. Sighing, he announced to the forty passengers "We've arrived in Cold Bay, trucksh will arrive shortly. I've been your pilot, Chip. Fuck it'sh cold, I'm done flyin' today."

Two large trucks able to carry twenty-four men each barreled down the runway with plows attached. The third following behind it flashing yellow warning lights.

The first two stopped behind the plane, allowing the men to disembark and be slapped in the face by a cold November wind. "God! I hope we aren't staying here long!" Famous first words for an unseasoned traveler who has never had a layover in Cold Bay.

With fifty pounds on his back, Nate followed in line behind others, climbing aboard the trucks as the third truck and its drivers hooked a rope around the front and towed the plane away.

"How long do you think we'll be here?" Nate turned around, a soldier dressed in white camouflage, just as every other soldier, with his collar, pulled above his mouth.

"I'd shay once the shnow clearsh up." Chip laughed, casually walking alongside the trucks, he grabs onto the side rail. "In about two weeksh son! Welcome to Cold Bay. The bar ish that way." He said, pointing off towards the control tower. The sun reflected off the fields of airplanes covered in snow, blinding and so bright he had to look away.

\111/
June 17th, 2227
Vault 111, Sanctuary Hills, Concord.

"It's nice to meet you-" Nate said, shuddering in the cold. He could feel the snow hitting his face, melting on his cheeks.

"It's nice to meet you," he said again, unsure of whom he was addressing.

"It's...nice to.." His mouth was dry like he hadn't swallowed or wet his lips in quite a long time.

"Manual override initiated." The white porthole reappeared, fading to grey, then black. A light appeared across the room from his pod. Nora's spotlight was on. A person with a feminine figure stepped into his field of vision, then went to Nora's pod and peered inside.

"This one, this is it." She said, pointing through the glass. She was covered head to toe in a suit made to prevent any sort of air born toxins or pollutants from penetrating her defenses.

A bald man with a green overcoat enter's Nate's field of view and he addresses a third person off to their left. "Open it."

The weight returns to Nate's arms as Meathead struggles and stretches, dealing with the same struggle to wake up.

The front of Nora's pod opens up and her torso leads the fall forward, still clutching Shaun tight to her chest. "Is it over?" Nora pants, trying desperately to find warmth. The strength is sapped from the permeating cold in her limbs, she can't uncross her arms around Shaun.

"Almost. Everything's going to be fine."

"Yeah." The female reaches for Shaun and he immediately wails out in protest to the icy cold. Meathead perks up and moans, trying to find the air in his lungs to bark.

"NO! No, no, no! No! I've got him! I've got him!" Nora shrugs off the scientist's advancements on Shaun, the bald man raises a revolver and aims it straight at Nora.

"Let the boy go, I'm only going to tell you once." Nate leaned forward and screamed. Meathead freaked out as Nate pounded on the glass with his fist.

"I'm not giving you Shaun!"

The man's wrist jerks upwards a little as he fires a single round into Nora's chest.

It's not powerful enough to pierce through her completely, but stop after breaking through her rib cage after having torn through her breast muscle, and chest. Nora couldn't cry for Shaun as her grip on him ended.

She couldn't fight anymore and fell backward as the pod slid shut over her.

Her mouth was filled with the taste of butter, caramelized white onions, and black currants. Licking her lips, she could taste the bottle of wine she had picked out for their picnic. Then she coughed as the coldness took her completely. This time, she was not able to look down at Shaun for warmth, or up to Nate for reassurance. She was on her own and alone.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?” A voice screamed, thumping coming down the hallway.

The bald man turned to face Nate for a brief moment as he passed by. His hair was scant on the top and grew in all around the sides. A black beard with chops came down from his ears and wrapped around his chin combined with a mustache. He wore a scar on the left eye.

"At least we got a spare."

Nate forced himself to remember those details and his voice, it would make the man he was going to kill easier to track down.

The cold air returned and Nate froze with a mad twisted face of anger and rage on his face, sad at the loss of his wife.

If felt like he'd been waiting at the airport for fourteen long days, waiting for the weather to clear up so that he and the rest of his team could be deployed. Finally, the order came, Nate and the 108th Regiment were loaded up with guns, ammo, and supplies to last four months. There was so much weight being carried between the twelve of them, they needed power armor to help carry it all. Because of Nate's mechanical expertise, he was put into the suit of power armor, carrying 150lbs of weight, in addition to the suit while the rest of the squad carried 75 lbs, but in their cold weather gear.

His breath was fogging up the glass inside of his helmet, and it was the darndest thing to clean off the steam or fog from lenses when it's snowing out.

\111/

Coughing, he blinked twice, then three more times as he stared at the glass porthole and pressed against the side of his chamber.

He reached up with one arm, trying to wipe the imaginary snow from his goggles, but the strength left his arm and dropped.

"Cryogenic failure." A warning siren started buzzing endlessly, "All residents, please vacate immediately."

More awake, he put one hand to the door of the pod and pressed outwards, the pod doors hissed open as the pressure was released. Nate leaned forward but realized too late that his legs weren't responding yet.

Nate collapsed forward with Meathead in his arms. Landing on his side, he was breathless. Water dripped from the ceiling onto the ground, his fists met cold wet concrete as he tried to scramble to his legs and reach Nora's pod.

“Nora….” Nate coughed, rubbing his eyes and feeling extremely distorted with both eyes surging into extreme clarity and then an all-encompassing grey haze that blocked his vision completely. Talking to the floor, “I’m gonna kill those bastards.”

Taking one step forward, he immediately collapsed to his right side with Meathead in his arms. “Agh! Dam…dammit!” Nate shivered on the floor, arms tightly around his dog. “Meat..head…Meaty…are you okay?"

"Meaty?” Nate asked, his voice was very soft. Meathead exhaled through his nose very slowly. Whining a quiet whimper. “Oh…I feel you boy. I’m sad too. I’m sad too.” Petting him softly, Nate wrapped a hand around his head and nuzzled the ears.

Crying, Nate couldn’t stop his eyes from watering as the greyness slowly rescinded, and he could make out features in the subtle ambient lighting. Not very many machines were on, he couldn’t hear the distinct hum that they made only minutes ago.

Stretching one arm out, he let go of Meathead, laying out on his back, flat on the concrete floor.

“Ohhhh…..” Nate moaned, letting the blood settle in his head. “That was cold.” Clenching his palms, blood moved back through his disused limbs and warmth slowly returned. Rolling away from Meathead, he slowly sat up. One arm out, one knee pulled back, he threw his weight forward onto one foot, planting the other down as he leaned on his pod for support.

“Nora.” Turning his head to across the aisle, Nora’s face was visible through the viewport. “Nora!” Nate shouted, awkwardly limping over Meathead to get to his wife’s pod. Reaching down, he pulled the emergency release lever. A white plume of mist and cold air descended from her pod, her skin was still icy cold to the touch. “Nora.”

The wound to her chest was frozen and Nate shook uncontrollably. "No." Grabbing the handle, Nate slammed the lid back down onto Nora's pod and stepped away from her. Meathead coughed, whined and moaned and hacked and coughed and vomited before rolling over onto his paws.

His nose was down in the pile of stomach ooze licking the ground, Nate brushed him away with the tip of his boot and moaned, "Meathead...don't eat that." The dog lapped his lips and thumped his tail against the ground a few times.

He took one step forward and fell flat on his chest. Grunting, Nate forced himself back onto his knees and crawled to another neighbors pod, using the outside edges as handholds until he found his lower body strength again.

Meathead panted very quickly, each one accented with an in-pain whine. Padding over to Nate, he was stiff and suddenly pushed himself away from the metal cryogenic pod with a look of fear plastered onto his face. Through the view, the window was a dark brown skeleton with skin stretched tight over the edges, mold, and rot growing from the eyes and as moisture leaked in through weak gaps in the seal over the years. Nate tried to shout, but his throat seized up and he coughed.

Duck walking to the next pod, Nate felt the coldness wrap around him, dragging him down. The next body was more decayed and the body after that was decaying and the person across the aisle was also dead in their pod. "Ahg." His voice hurt too much to scream.

Meathead rolled to his stomach with his legs under him, standing up he limped to Nate's side and dropped down again. Whimpering, Nate felt how quiet the room was, even with machinery still droning away. Nate's entire body jerked, a spasm, and he was on the floor sobbing next to his dog. Unable to see clearly and pinpricks of freezing splintered metal tore through his forearms and then it was only him groaning on the concrete floor of Vault 111 as the weight of the world pressed down on him from above.

"Come on boy, we need to go. We have to get out of here." Meathead looked up and panted through his nose. As his master started moving, the dog found the strength to keep moving too. Nate reached down and pulled the fully grown German Shepard up into both arms, holding him tightly and feeling the weight of him.

Moving as far as a rolling office chair, Nate crawled into it, using the armrests to hoist himself up and flip himself around. Instantly more mobile, he scooted to the one computer monitor in the room and looked at what it held.

“C-1...” Nate swung his head from the computer to the pods, then back to the screen. “Dead.” Rubbing his eyes, it was painstakingly difficult to make out words longer than four letters. He was squinting and shaking his head trying to focus, but the haze wouldn't retreat.

C-2 “Dead.”
C-3 “Dead.”
C-4 “Dead.”
“C-5...dead.”
“Six, seven, eight, Nine, Ten...Empty. Eleven. Error. Twelve. Dead.”

Tapping his fingers against the space bar, he turned off all the pods except for his Nora. Vents and generators hummed softer as there was less power drainage, “All dead from Nitrogen Poisoning.” Tapping the enter key, all the pods disengaged and powered off except for one.

\111/

Holding Meathead in his arms, he carried him out into the corridor, and down the path that leads him back to the foyer entrance. The main difference Nate noticed was the lack of light and buildup of water and ice. A room with an overhead LED lamp shining through the doorway beckoned the two lives to it. The inside was a small security room with a folding chair pushed out and ready for someone to sit in it.

Groaning, Nate plopped Meathead down onto the cot, and the dog laid down on his side instantly. down into the chair and scooted back. "Ah, yeah." He yawned. " Just gotta catch the breath, Meathead. Then we'll get going."

Twisting around, Nate sighed as he saw a small blinking light in the corner of the computer monitor. Tapping the enter key, he rolled his eyes at the first three tabs that popped up.

[Vault-Tec Security Protocol.]

"Vault 111 is....dah dah dah...something to... test the effects of...suspended...dah dah dah...animation on...unaware humans" He read slowly his eyes were burning and watering at the same time, making things incredibly difficult to read without straining his brain to the point of a migraine.

Turning away from the monitor to look at a Vault-Boy calendar, Nate taps the other files and keeps reading as his strength returns to him. "Goddamnit..."

Nate leaned back, sighing more deeply. Words started to appear in his head, forming a long train of thought to try and explain this whole mess. "We got played. Meathead." He said, flopping one arm out to grab the drawer handle. Yanking it open, two boxes of 10-millimeter ammo clattered against the side. Nate dug both boxes out and cleared the entire desk, reaching up to his left to grab a 10-millimeter pistol off the office drawers stacked next to the desk. His thumb clicked a button on the side of the barrel, and the magazine fell from the grip. Catching it with one hand, Nate reloaded the magazine and shoved it back into the grip with renewed energy. Meathead shook, shaking himself out as he yawned.

“Damn.” Meathead stopped and sat on his back legs, looking up at Nate with worry. “I remember...” He said, looking down the hallway. “We...were bombed...”

Moving through the empty vault, there were no signs of any life in the kitchen or employee dorms, passing more rooms like the one he exited from. Nate and Meathead steel themselves long enough to check the monitors and see that all residents were dead from asphyxiation or Nitrogen poisoning.

Swallowing deftly, they walked all the way to the Vault Overseer's office when they saw four skeletons laid out on the ground. Another pistol in the overseer's bony hands and fingers gave them a partial scene to follow as dried bloodstains were splattered out and away from the three bodies surrounding the desk.

"What the heck happened here?" Nate asked, drawing himself into the Overseer's chair. He plopped down and sighed again. Every room was stripped clean, every locker thrown open and searched. There was another story to be told, one on top of another, on top of his own.

Why leave a gun and some ammo when everything else was gone?

Rummaging through the Overseer's room, the bed was stripped bare long ago, and the personal belongings were sparse. There was an old picture frame sitting on a nightstand by the bed, a few Vault-Tec memorabilia, pens and pencils stamped, safety posters featuring Vault-Boy. A bar of orange soap sitting in the shower, he checked the water situation with a turn of a handle. Water clanged in the pipes and gushed out in air pockets. Sputtering cold grey stagnant water out, followed by a stream of clear hot water with steam wafting off the top. Cupping his hands he splashed water on his face and drank and splashed water on his face again, rubbing his eyes and clearing the gunk away.

“At least we got water, bud.”

There were a few more rounds of ammo in the Overseer's desk with the light still blinking without any signs of damage or wear except for a film of dust over the screen.

[Overseer Personal Log]

"All-clear." Nate's eyes fell heavily, " Where's the vault door button?" Nate asked out loud, rolling his head back to look around the office. "Tunnel 2227. Open tunnel number two two two seven. Damn." He said, rubbing them Nate's eyes glazed over the page, it felt like he drank a gallon of crushed up ice. With the words only making half-logic on the page, he double tapped the access tab to the Vault Overseer's private tunnel that leads directly to the vault door.

“Just show me the button to open the damn door! Why is opening and closing a door in a subfolder?!”

Both Nate and Meathead's ears perked up, waiting for some grand sound to signal that they had found the exit escape tunnel, only to be rewarded with a little ping from the computer and a blinking message that read "Overseer Private Tunnel Open. Warning: Authorization and use may only be given by Overseer or appointed Vault-Tec Representative."

Putting both hands on the desk, Nate pushed himself out of the chair. "I touched your stuff, Vault-Tec. Come get me."
Meathead followed behind Nate, sniffing out the cracks and corners of the room always present. Nate smiled, letting his hands bask in the warm water. "If we ever need a warm shower, Meathead, this'll be the second place I stop."

They were both about to leave when they saw a case covered on ice from the inside. Nate took a glance back at the Overseer's skeleton, then to the cold case on the wall. A panel of glass displayed a gun with copper pipes wrapping all around the sides. Putting one hand to the glass, it was like touching fire for how cold the panel was. Jerking on the latch for a first try, Nate then banged on it, chipping away a block of ice around the edges. Slamming the butt of the gun against the glass was fruitless too as it bounced off without any damage done. Looking to Meathead, the dog sat upright and tried not to look guilty and tired as Nate sighed and left the weapon behind him.

"I'm coming back for that later, Meathead." The dog rose to all fours and followed Nate out into the Overseer's private tunnel. The hallways were semi-circle in shape, giving the sense there was more underneath your feet. Most of the pipes and wiring ran underneath the floor with large panels that can be removed covering them. The tunnel had gold plated metal surrounding it, effectively making this stretch one of the more secure parts of the vault from the threat of radiation.

Through another set of doors, Nate and Meathead both found themselves back in the main foyer. Devoid of any luggage, any sort of welcoming committee was long gone. Long stretches of spiderweb ran across the full length of the room, and Nate needed to brush past them to get to the main terminals that can open the vault door. There were more dead bodies on the ground, so much time passed that only the bones and clothes remain. On the ground was another Vault-Tec. scientist, his arm reaching out and wrapped around his head. The ribs on the back side near the spine were fractured, and when Nate went to scavenge the large device on the scientist's forearm, the arm broke off at the shoulder joint.

The sickening crunch of bones snapping made both dwellers tense. Then they waited in silence for a few moments. After nothing else happened, Nate undid the latches around the arm and tossed the bones back to the skeleton. Clamping it down over his own left forearm, Nate pressed the power button and only saw black. Wiping the screen off, a small Vault-Tec logo appeared and the boot-up sequence loaded.

With a sharp intake of breath, Nate smiled which prompted a tail wag from Meathead. He turned the Pip-Boy 3000 Mk. IV over, looking at all the labels and dials and wires. Flicking and twisting all the knobs, he pulled at a large yellow knob at the top and was shocked as it came out and extended into an outlet plugin as a source for energy.

With the cable in his hands, Nate looked at the big console with only a few important looking buttons. A yellow switch, a big square red button the size of your fist, and thirty blue and green buttons without any power. Connecting the extension cord to the main terminal to act as a power supply, a small solid orange light appeared on the console. After flicking the yellow switch, the entire panel lit up.

"Okay, moving on."

Pressing the red button in, the vault sprung to life as the large hydraulic drill swung down on pulleys and bore itself into the vault door. Pulling backward with a nerve-rattling screech of old metal grinding against old metal, the massive ton weight to the door opened up and slid to the side. A yellow catwalk extended out from the interior side, connecting with the exterior staircase.

"Let's go," Nate said to Meathead, prompting the dog to go explore the new path first. Meathead trotted down the stairs and went to the elevator pad as Nate took an extra moment when he reached the top of the steps.

Each footfall stomped and echoed across the catwalk, after passing through the vault door frame Nate turned around and looked back. Through the closed doors, he could still see Nora would be. But the last thing Nate saw before tromping down the staircase to the surface elevator was the banner still hanging up. Vault-Boy was giving a wink and a grin, saying to him. "Welcome home. We'll be there!"

Nate went to the panel on the exterior side and repeated the same process. Hitting the red button with the bottom of his fist as he walked away and down the stairs. Meathead was waiting for him to press the button that would let them ascend as the vault 111 door slid shut behind them with a rumble that shook your core.

\111/

Both the man and his companion held their eyes closed as they ascended upwards. Yellow flashing lights, dulled orange by time, spun in place, lighting their arrival. The metal doors broke their seal overhead and retracted. Above them was a blue sky and a pale white sun hanging overhead. "At least we didn't lose the sun," Nate said, the elevator came to a stop and he inhaled deeply. His body twitched for half a second, seeing all of what remained of the world above.

The trees were husks, imitations of what they once were. Stripped of most grey leaves, the gnarled branches looked like they were tanned and dried from the core. A vertical take-off and landing helicopter was nothing but moss, weeds that crawled up the sides and over the rotors, and rust. Nate licked his lips, remembering the state of the security pod that was responsible for sending them down, and how there were two skeletons staring back at him.

The billboard still advertising to reserve your spot today was sunbleached and peeled, panels missing and the winking Vault-Tec lad holding out a stack of papers saying 'Register'.

Rubbing a hand over his face, his eyes watered. Tall powerlines ran over the suburb of Sanctuary, now a decimated mess of stripped houses, and blown out windows. He looked down at Meathead and almost didn't want to take the first step.

"Let's go home, bud."

He moved one leg up, and the rest of his body followed.

October 23, 2287.

The nickname we gave to our Great Dane, Indy, was Meathead because, sometimes he acted like a dork.

The brief radio broadcast taken from the August 17th, 1960 New York Yankees vs. Boston Red Sox. Yankees win in the 10th inning 3-2.