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Absent Are the Saints	By : VirusVescichetta Category: +A through F > Fallout (Series) > Fallout (Series) Views: 8230 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: If I owned Fallout...I dunno. Shit would be different. The point is, I don't. And college students don't make money, so that's out the window, too.

Chapter List
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I was mentally debating whether or not the whisky in Moriarty's Saloon was 200 years old or just poorly made. Either way it burnt the back of my throat and made me look like I was actually there for a reason other than breaking into his terminal in the back and finding out where my father had gone. He was still wandering around, berating Gob about some meaningless thing while I chatted idly with a man named Jericho.
The rough looking man was one of the unofficial guards of Megaton, though he freely spoke of his past as a raider. He seemed more than happy to recount tales of past glory, or at least as close to glory as shooting whoever he pleased was. Still, he also admitted that those days were gone and at this point he just wanted to waste away his days drinking, comfortable in the knowledge that he probably wasn't going to be shot in his sleep by someone too tripped out on jet or psycho to know what they were doing. I had to get him to explain exactly what those were and he did so with no small amount of amusement.
Aside from passing time and making me appear slightly less conspicuous, the chat also gave me some useful information on raider hangouts in the surrounding area. A large part of me knew that information like that could probably end up saving my life at some point. Or, at the very least, keep me from getting too horribly perforated. The knowledge on the hazards of drug abuse was also welcome, even if I had already learned about such things from my dad in the Vault.
After a couple of hours and more drinks than I cared to count, though, Jericho called it a night and headed off with something of a stumble. I had kept my own drinking to a minimum, just enough to alleviate any suspicions about why I may be at the saloon but not quite enough to actually intoxicate me. As the night wore on it became a lot harder to really define just where that line was. Luckily Moriarty headed upstairs about the same time as Jericho had left, mumbling something about needing to count some caps in private and away from prying eyes.
I looked around the bar and saw that it had whittled down to only Gob and me. Nova was busy servicing someone in a room and anyone else had already cleared out. "Hey, Gob...you should probably step out for a smoke while you have a moment to take a break," I said calmly.
He gave me a sceptical look. "I mean, if someone were to do something in the back room and you weren't around to stop it, then it would hardly be your fault, right?" I dropped a rather heavy hint when he showed no signs of moving.
"I'd still get a bit of a beating," he said somewhat uncertainly. "...But it'd probably be worse if I were around to stop it, you're right," he finished with a quick nod before heading towards the door. He stopped with it hanging open and looked back at me. "Don't do anything stupid, kid," he warned before stepping outside.
"Like I have a choice," I muttered quietly before nearly running into Moriarty's office. The terminal was easy to find. It was simply sitting on a desk in the very back, turned on but sitting at a login screen. I quickly keyed in his stupid password and was presented with a number of files on various residents of the town. It clicked in the back of my mind that if I ever got a later chance at this, a lot of that information would probably be invaluable. As it stood, though, all I wanted was whatever Moriarty had on my father.
I opened his file and scanned over what was recorded. "GNR..." I whispered to myself. "That radio station? Why the fuck would he have gone there...?"
Before I got a chance to do any further perusing I heard heavy footsteps stomping down the metal stairs just outside that could only belong to Moriarty. My heart leaped into my throat as I hastily backtracked through all of the computer's screens until I was back at the login window.
My eyes darted around the room, looking desperately for a way out of it. I could hear the footsteps thundering ever closer to the door I had thankfully thought to close on my way in. My only option was the locked door just behind the terminal, which quite unfortunately didn't have any way of opening beyond either a key or a pick.
Praying that it worked the same way as the locks in the Vault I grabbed at a bobby pin in my pocket with sweaty, slippery fingers. My hands were shaking as they fumbled with the small band of metal and I was astounded when it didn't snap with my clumsy work. I was even more astounded when I heard the faint click of the lock sliding open. I whipped the door open with more force than I intended and only barely caught it before it slammed into the wall outside. I took a great deal more care with closing it and ran to the front of the saloon as quickly as I could.
"Shit, smoothskin. You look like you just ran all the way from DC," Gob remarked as I jogged to a stop next to him.
"I feel like it, too," I mumbled and wiped a sweaty palm across my slightly less sweaty brow. Even taking on a grocery store full of raiders hadn't terrified me that much.
Gob held out a cigarette which I very gratefully took. I had never smoked before but I had seen in books and vids in the Vault that they apparently helped ease stress. He struck a match and lit the cigarette, filling the air around me with bitter, acrid smoke. "Suck on it for a second, then inhale," he chuckled as I struggled with the thing.
I did as he said and ended up bent over in a coughing fit. The ghoul seemed to think that meant he should laugh a bit harder at my expense. "Take it a little slower than that," he said with a grin. "I take it you didn't do this much back home, eh Vaultie?"
"Not really," I said after I got my breathing back under control. I tried a much smaller drag off the cigarette and managed to actually hold it without coughing up a lung. The exhale brought forth a slight feeling of lightheadedness that I had to admit actually helped ease my concern a little.
"You got what you needed?" Gob asked after a moment.
"Yeah. One question, though," I said after another relaxing inhalation of smoke. "How do I get to GNR?"
"Galaxy News? That's in the middle of DC," the ghoul frowned at me. "You'd have to fight your way through the old subway tunnels and ruins, and that means a lot of super mutants and feral ghouls. If that's where your dad went you're gonna need a lot of ammo to get there."
I sighed dejectedly. "Figures," I muttered. I didn't know what the Hell super mutants were but they didn't sound like anything good. I made a mental note to ask Moira about them next time I saw her. "So I should probably wait a little while before trying to catch him?"
"I hate to say it, kid, but if you just came outta that Vault you're only gonna get yourself killed running into the ruins," he gave me an apologetic look and a pat on the back.

It must have been at least a week after finding the password that I got called into a dark corner of the saloon by a man in a suit and sunglasses. He identified himself simply as "Mr. Burke" and had called me over for what seemed to be a very interesting proposition. "You want me to blow up Megaton?" I asked in a voice that the man sitting before me probably thought was much too loud.
He frowned slightly at the question. "I'm just giving you this fusion pulse charge. What you choose to do with it is up to you. However, if you so choose to hook it up to the undetonated nuclear bomb in the middle of town and meet me at Tenpenny Tower you'll be handsomely rewarded."
Mr. Burke's every word dripped with sweetened poison, daring me to taste it and choke on my own humanity. He demanded without ever asking, instructed without ever telling. I knew that one hand was loaded in caps while the other was gripped firmly around a dagger just waiting to bite into my flesh. He even looked completely and utterly untrustworthy. His clothes were too clean, his sunglasses pale but reflective and devoid of scratches. What skin was shown outside of his pristine white pinstripe suit was clean and unscathed. The lack of any sort of flaw was entirely unnerving.
"Give me a bit to think about it. This kind of decision takes some time to decide on," I said. I hoped my tone was convincing or this could get messy a lot faster than I wanted it to.
"Of course. I'll be here once you've made up your mind," he nodded. I suppressed a shiver at the icy politeness of his voice. Wiping a settlement off the face of the Earth was simply business to him, I realized.
"Here is the pulse charge. Perhaps having it will help you come to a decision," he said as he handed me a small device. It looked like an electrical plug attached to a small box.
I nodded and left Moriarty's. Burke had only shown up in the past couple days but as far as I knew he hadn't spoken to anyone besides me. I didn't know if he'd even asked Gob for anything to drink for all the time he'd been staying there. When he finally decided to motion me over I understood why he had kept a distance. He was judging, gauging which person would be the best choice to carry out his orders. I supposed he picked me because I wasn't a local. As far as he knew I was some random wastelander hanging around the town while I caught my breath. It wasn't too far from the truth, actually.
Regardless of why he decided on me I knew I had to make him regret it. I severely doubted he'd hand the pulse charge away to someone who was undecided if it was the only one he had, and if he had more that meant he was free to ask someone else to attach it to the unexploded bomb in the centre of town. Someone who might not have the same reservations as I did about doing as he asked.
"Sheriff!" I called to Lucas Simms when I caught sight of him.
He turned at the shout and raised an eyebrow at me. "Something you need, kid?"
"I think it's more about something you'll need," I pulled the pulse charge out of my pocket. "A man named Burke in Moriarty's Saloon gave me this. He wants me to set off that bomb."
To his credit, Simms didn't look particularly shocked or concerned. "That a fact?" he asked as he took the pulse charge from my hand. "I had a bad feeling about that snake the minute I saw him. To think he actually wants to destroy the town, though..." He looked at me and motioned towards the saloon with his head. "Come on, kid. I'm gonna show you what Wasteland justice is like."
Simms walked resolutely towards Moriarty's with me in tow. I was equally interested, excited and nervous about this confrontation. Burke didn't look like much but he set off every warning bell my instincts had that he was a very dangerous person. I felt my hand drift down to rest on the grip of my handgun as we walked. The feel of rough, worn metal against my palm set my mind at ease.
Gob glanced up as we walked into the bar. He very quickly found something else to pay attention to when we made our way over to Burke's corner. The man looked up at us with a cool expression. It was obvious he had accounted for this possibility and had a plan for it. My mind instantly began running through everything I could do to make sure that I survived.
"I've decided I don't like you hanging around town," Simms said gruffly. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"Of course," Burke said with the same cold politeness as everything else. "Lead the way, sheriff."
I'm not entirely sure why Lucas turned his back on Burke. Maybe he hadn't seen the pistol at the man's waist, just as I hadn't. Considering the experience he had to have had on me, though, he had to have seen the shot coming. Before the man in the suit managed to pull the trigger, though, I had his wrist twisted to the side. The suppressor on the pistol reduced the shot to a dull "thwip" that went somewhere towards the back of the saloon. I didn't have the luxury of seeing where it went as I wrested the gun out of Burke's hands.
Lucas Simms's assault rifle was much more of an attention-getter as it unloaded for several seconds into Burke's chest. The man fell back into his seat, blood quickly staining his formerly immaculate suit. "Thanks, kid. Guess I'm getting slow in my old age," he chuckled.
"Jesus Christ! Look at all that fuckin' blood!" Moriarty shouted as he came storming out from the back. "Gob! Get off yer lazy ass and get a fuckin' mop!"
The sheriff and I left the saloon. "I don't think we'll be able to keep ignoring that bomb," he muttered gruffly.
"What would disarming it be worth to you?" I asked.
He looked over his shoulder at me with a raised eyebrow. "You know how to?"
"I've learned a few things about explosives working with Moira," I nodded.
"I bet you have," he said with a wry smirk. "If you could defuse that bomb this whole town would be in your debt."
"I'll see what I can do," I said and headed down the ramp towards the centre of town.
"That's more than anyone else has done," I heard Simms say behind me. I couldn't tell if he was talking to me or himself.
I spent a few minutes inspecting the bomb, trying to avoid drawing too much attention from the people gathered around it while I figured out exactly what I had to take apart to get at the detonator. I assumed it would be in the front and found a panel that was likely used for maintenance when the bomb was manufactured. It was screwed into place and probably rusted shut, and that meant a trip to see Moira. If anyone in town had the tools I needed to take the thing apart it was her.
When I walked into Craterside Supply I found Moira tinkering around with one of the landmines I had brought her a few days prior. "You're still playing with those things?" I asked with a slight chuckle. Despite the rather stressful events of the day walking into her store always put me in a good mood. I suppose her constant smiling had to be infectious.
"Yep! I'm figuring out all the different ways I can disarm one for the book. I'm so glad you brought me so many to test," she said without looking up at me.
"Wait, so that thing's live?" I asked and quickly took a step back.
"Don't worry. I took out all the mean, exploding bits before I turned it on," she waved me off as though I were being ridiculous. "But you probably didn't come here just to watch me fiddle around with bombs. What can I do for you?"
"I need to borrow a screwdriver and a pry-bar so I can disarm that bomb in the middle of town."
That seemed to get her attention. She looked up at me with a slight frown on her face. "Those folks at the Church aren't going to like that too much."
"The Church? You mean those people who are always standing around the bomb?"
"Yeah. They call themselves the Children of Atom or something. I think they worship that bomb. They aren't going to be too happy with you if you start messing around with it."
I set my face in a grim expression. "I don't give a damn if they like it or not. Moira, someone asked me to blow it up today. They asked me to strap some kind of charge to it and wipe Megaton off the map," I folded my arms across my chest and looked her in the eye. "I refused, but what if he'd asked someone who didn't?"
Her eyes opened wide in shock. "Someone...asked you to destroy the town? Why would they do that?"
"Apparently the guy who runs Tenpenny Tower thinks it's an eyesore and that was reason enough," I let out a short sigh and shook my head. "Look, the point is I need to take the bomb apart to get rid of the detonator, and to do that I need some tools. Can you help me out?"
"Yeah..." she said somewhat numbly and bent over to pick up her toolkit. "Just bring it back after you're done, 'kay?"
"No problem," I nodded my head as I picked it up and turned to head for the door. I stopped and looked back before heading out. She looked at me quizzically for a moment when I shot her a slight smile. "Thanks, Moira." I didn't hear if she responded or not before I left. It was starting to turn into a habit.
Working on the bomb was time-consuming and felt exhausting. At the time it didn't really click for why it tired me out so much just to take out a few screws and pry the hatch off. I also wasn't paying much attention to my Pip-Boy, despite the warnings it was probably flashing at me about standing in nearly waist-deep water that was just about glowing with its radioactivity.
"What are you doing to the bomb?" one of the worshippers asked.
I carefully finished cutting through one of the wires running to the detonator just inside the panel before glancing over my shoulder. "Disarming it before it goes off and annihilates this entire place," I said sharply.
"It hasn't gone off, yet. Why would it suddenly go off now?" the man demanded angrily.
"Because someone just asked me to set it off earlier today," I answered. "I don't care if you're fine with being vaporized in a nuclear blast, but I'm not and I doubt most of the other people in this town are, either. So fuck off and let me save your lives."
"Let him work, people," Simms said as he came walking down to the town's centre. "He's working on my behalf. If you've got a problem with it, you can take it up with me."
A few of the worshippers around grumbled but turned away from the spectacle. "Thanks," I muttered as I finished cutting the last of the wires. "I just have to unscrew the brackets holding in the detonator and I'll be finished."
"That's damn good to hear," I could hear the relief in the man's voice. "You know, we've got an empty house up on that hill, across from Craterside Supply. I'd be happy to give you the key and offer you a place to live here in Megaton for what you've done for us."
The sound of the last screw falling somewhere to the bottom of the bomb sounded as I finally pulled my head completely out of the shell. The world spun as I turned to hand Simms the detonator but I tried to shake to off and ignore it. I suppose I thought it was just from being twisted at an awkward angle for nearly fifteen minutes straight. "Sounds a whole lot better than sleeping in a dead woman's house or the Super Duper Mart," I said. A wave of nausea swept over me that I did my best to ignore.
"I'll bet it does. Here's the key," Simms handed me the small piece of metal. "You alright, kid? You look a little pale."
"I'm fine," I said dismissively. "I've gotta get Moira's stuff back to her. I'll see you later, sheriff."
I brushed past him and made my way as quickly as I could up to the store. The nausea got worse in a hurry and before I knew it the whole world was spinning. By the time I opened the door my head was throbbing and I could feel the vomit in the back of my throat. "Here's your tools," it was hard to speak and even harder to lift the kit to her counter.
Moira looked up with a grateful expression that rapidly turned to a mixture of horror and excitement. "Oh my gosh! How long were you standing in that water?" she asked quickly.
"Maybe fifteen minutes," I said. My right hand pressed against my head in a futile attempt to quell my headache while my left landed on her counter to steady myself. That's when I saw the warnings flashing on the screen of my Pip-Boy. "Oh, fuck...that explains a lot."
The woman across from me guided me to sit down in a nearby chair before grabbing my arm and gently moving it to look at my miniature computer. "Six hundred and fifty rads? I'm amazed you aren't burning a hole in the floor," she bustled about, grabbing a pencil and a clipboard with a sheet of paper. I had actually forgotten about the radiation section of her book. "Tell me how you feel. I've never had a chance to actually see someone who's suffering from this extent of radiation sickness."
"Can I get a garbage can first?" I mumbled before clapping a hand over my mouth. I could feel the bile burning on my tongue. As soon as the pail was sitting before me I threw up harder than I had before in my life. No hangover compared to the feeling of radiation poisoning.
After what felt like ten minutes of vomiting – despite likely only being about a full minute – I described the nausea, headache and dizziness. A quick touch of her hand also confirmed to Moira that I was running a moderate fever. The whole time she scribbled down notes in an absolute flurry. I tried my best to keep going, but eventually I simply couldn't stop vomiting and she decided she had enough information. I don't know what the concoction she fed me was, though I could tell she was trying to explain it to me. I didn't care enough to actually listen. As soon as I knew it was going to fix what was wrong I drank down the foul tasting mixture.
Within a few minutes my stomach had settled out, my headache was gone and my fever was broken. My Pip-Boy cheerfully informed me that I was radiation sickness free. It also had a blinking message reading only "Unknown mutation detected."
"Well, at least it seems to be benign," Moira said in her usual half-full tone of voice.
"You mean I got a tumour from disarming that bomb?" I frowned at her.
"I don't think it's a tumour. Your Pip-Boy probably would've detected that. It's just some kind of benign mutation. Who knows? Maybe it'll even be good for you."
"I don't really see how any kind of mutation can be a good thing," I my frown etched itself deeper on my face.
"Every evolution has been some kind of mutation. Just look at it that way," she patted my shoulder. "In any case that about does it for the first section of the book. Let me know when you're ready to start on the second."
"What's that all about?" I knew I wasn't going to like the answer but I also knew I'd have to ask eventually.
"Injuries and wildlife, specifically about molerats and mirelurks because they're the ones most people run into."
"I don't even know what those things are..." I mumbled.
"Well, best way to find out, right?" Moira all but beamed at me. "Besides, if radiation sickness can't get you down, what chance does a little moleratty have?"

A/N: So I think it's been like, three months since I updated this thing. Maybe only two. I've spent way too long planning for its future, I think. Once I hit about chapter 10 or so I'll probably be away to the races. Until then...well, I've never been a writer who can keep a schedule, so I apologize for that. Hopefully the wait is at least somewhat worth it. I...don't really hate this chapter. I'm at least glad it's out of the way because there were times when it was just sitting open on my computer without anything getting written for it because I had no idea what to do with it. Then I decided on dealing with Mr. Burke and it wrote itself in about three days. And some people are probably going to hate me for killing off a character that a lot of other writers build up to be this huge bad guy in about three paragraphs but that's what he is in the game, if you take the path my LW did. On a random side note, anyone else wondering how long it's going to be before I give him a name?
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Absent Are the Saints