"So what happened next?" Courtney asked. They had been listening to the old man carefully, even the captured raider had begun to grow interested.
"Hm?" The old man grunted.
"What happened to The Prodigy?" Courtney said. "You were telling us about him."
"Yes I was. I was telling you how he began, and so should we." The old stranger stood up. "It's near sunrise, we should not waste the day. And bring that raider girl." He started walking away from the group.
The mercenaries reluctantly followed and brought the raider to her feet. Jr. put his gun to her back if she tried anything to break loose from her restraints.
"What's your name?" The old man asked the raider. The raider hesitated.
"Why do you want to know?" She asked.
"Figured, since you're gonna be traveling with us, might as well know your name." The old stranger reasoned.
"Oh yeah? What's your name then?" The raider mocked. "You're traveling with these clowns as well."
"I'm sad to say my-my name has been lost to me." The old man admitted. "I just go by Stranger now."
"Stranger?" The raider echoed. "Well, unlike you, I have an actual name. It's McKilla."
"McKilla. Really?" Rodger said. "That's worse than Stranger."
"No! No it's not." McKilla defended. "It strikes fear into the hearts of others. It's a name that tells you exactly all you need to know."
"Oh please, McKilla sounds like a street performer. Stranger, you don't know anything about them. That's a lot more scary." Courtney claimed. "You don't know what they're capable of."
"Yes. Speaking of the unknown, I believe I was telling a-a story." The old man said. "Where was I?"
"The Prodigy had just left the vault." Jr. said.
"Ah yes. Now I remember." The old man claimed.
—
The Prodigy rubbed his eyes as he stepped out into the Midwestern sun. His skin felt like it was burning, but it hadn't singed off like Vault-Tec said it would. He looked out across this new, unknown land and saw mounds of rock and remnants of foliage. The grass was brown and the air was dry. The sky was blue, but felt empty. Surrounding the cave entrance was a wall of stone and a river bed with a small waterfall. Michael dipped his hand in the water and felt it rush through his fingers. It was a welcoming feeling of the unknown to him. The world stunned the young vault dweller, but he had a mission to continue.
"Okay. Where do I go now?" Michael asked himself. He walked off in a random direction, climbing through bits of foliage and rock, eventually reaching the end of the hills. Michael saw a road in front of him and miles upon miles of empty desert. "All roads lead to Rome. I'd have to find something eventually." He traveled down the road for about half an hour and encountered nothing but dust kicking up in the wind, rusty old cars and a few road signs.
"I wonder if anyone bothered to fix up one of these old automobiles." Michael knew what a car was, he had studied the old world before the war. "Couldn't be too hard. Do mechanics still exist out here?" The young prodigy had many questions about the world he was in. The vault was his world, but now he was somewhere completely alien to him.
He looked for miles for any kind of civilization and eventually saw people down the broken stretch of highway. He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him at first, but he found it to be real.
"Hey!" Michael called out. He got closer and saw three people and some kind of two-headed beast, kind of looked like a cow if you squinted your eyes, it also looked dead. Two of them were carrying rifles and armored in metal and leather. The third member was in a dirty attire, nothing like the other two.
"Morning stranger." The third member said to Michael. "Looking to trade?"
"Trade? Trade what? And what is that...thing?" Michael asked many questions.
"That's a Brahmin. What're you stupid?" The trader remarked. "Wait a minute...Blue jumpsuit, Pip-Boy, no dirt or grime, not knowing what a Brahmin is...You're a Vault dweller." The trader claimed.
"Yeah. Yeah I'm from a vault, Vault 25. I just came out a few minutes ago." Michael said.
"Heheha. Ain't this a sight to behold? We don't see many people from the ground around here." The trader said. "Names Crick, Adam Crick, but most people just call me The Cricket cause I never stop jumping. I run this here caravan, been going on for about three years now."
"Michael, Michael Becker. Er...Vault..Dweller. Most people just call me The Prodigy." Michael introduced himself.
"Prodigy? Why they call you that?" Crick asked.
"Cause I was more skilled than anyone else in my vault." Michael admitted.
"Really? That why they sent you out?" Crick said, unknowingly bringing up a sore subject.
"I..I wasn't sent out. I had to escape my vault." Michael said with a darker tone. "The other dwellers..they..they turned into viscous, bloodthirsty monsters. I had to fight my own sister to survive."
"Damn. That's rough." Crick said. "I'm sorry for your loss. I know how hard it can be to lose something you love, especially at such an early age."
"...I came out here hoping to find some kind of cure, or medicine, or something, anything that could fix them." Michael said.
"Well allow me to be the first one to welcome you to the ass end of nowhere, otherwise known as Kansas." Crick welcomed. "We were heading to a settlement about a few miles West of here, just before the border of Colorado, but our Brahmin up and died on us."
"I could help." Michael said. "I can do a favor for you and you'll do a favor for me. An eye for an eye if you will. Sound fair?"
"A favor huh? Unless you can wrangle a wild critter that'll carry all this crap, you're shit out of luck kid." Crick doubted The Prodigy.
"I can't say I know how to wrangle animals, but I do know a thing or two about engineering." Michael said. He walked over to an old car, one that looked particularly in better shape than the rest, even the tires were still there and had a bit of air left in them.
"What the hell are you doing?" Crick asked as he watched The Prodigy at work.
"This is an old Chryslus Corvega Atomic V-8." Michael said as he popped the hood of the car to reveal the dusty engine. "Manufactured by Chryslus Motors, the Atomic V-8 variant was a more rugged, dependable sedan that was once one of the most popular car models all across the United States before the war." He picked and prodded at the engine.
"Yeah, but what good is it gonna do now. Thing don't work no more." Crick said as he stood next to Michael.
"Yes, in the eyes of those who never worked on machines." Michael said as he moved wires and pumps from the engine. "If I'm correct, the nuclear rod should still have some juice in it. Atomic power lasts a very very long time." He slammed the hood down and opened the drivers door. He pulled out a panel from underneath the steering wheel, pulled out some wires and tied the ends of them to other wires.
Once he connected the last wire, the car made a horrid sound and sprang to life after over 200 years of collecting rust. The headlights flickered and the engine roared once again. Now all it needed was gas.
"Well I'll be damned." Crick couldn't believe his eyes, he had never seen a working car before.
"Yeah. It needs fuel though. You got any gas?" Michael asked from the drivers seat. Adam went over to his dead Brahmin and picked up a gas canister. He handed it to Michael and he started pouring the gas into the fuel tank from the gas cap.
"Alright, that should be it. You should be good now." Michael said. "Now about your side of the bargain."
"Shit, I guess I do owe ya. What do you want?" Crick asked.
"I want you to take me to this settlement." Michael demanded. "I should be able to start my journey there."
"Alright, deal." Crick agreed. "Does anyone here know how to drive?" No one answered. "Alright, I guess we'll learn." Crick said. The mercenaries strapped the merchandise from the Brahmin onto the car. Crick was the one to drive and Michael sat in the back seat with one of the Merc's, while the other sat in the passenger seat. They were off toward the settlement.
"Sooo...Hi." Michael tried to start a conversation with the hired gun next to him.
"Sup." She said not looking at him. "What do you want?"
"Just trying to start conversation." Michael said.
"Well maybe I don't want to talk. I'm paid to shoot bullets not words." She said with venom in her tone.
"Don't mind Bonnie, she doesn't like new faces." Crick said. The drive remained silent for a bit. "So where'd you learn to fix a car?" Crick asked Micheal.
"I used to build machines and fix generators back in the vault. When I was seven, I built a nuclear generator out of nothing but a toaster, an oven and a bit of soda." Michael told.
"Impressive. I think you can find work with your skills. Gain a few caps." Crick complimented.
"Caps?" Michael asked.
"Bottle caps, it's currency all across The Wasteland. Soda, beer, liquid cancer, they each carry money." Crick explained the rules of currency.
"Okay? I get it. Do certain 'caps' hold more value." Michael questioned.
"Well there's those blue star bottle caps from Sunset Sarsaparilla, people kill each other for those out West. Said that if you collected 50 of them it would give you a prize." Crick said. "There are also those NCR dollars, but there useless out of NCR territory."
"NCR?" The Prodigy asked.
"New California Republic, they're built like a military. They have soldiers, secret operations, all that bullshit. They aren't exactly the kindest folk, Hell, they're just as corrupted as the old government in the back when days." Adam explained further. "They've been trying to push East, what with their fancy Rangers. But they haven't had any luck pushing forward, the farthest they've stretch so far is Nevada."
"Bad news those guys are, but they do bring in some goodies with the Crimson Caravan: Fresh water, weapons, the works." The merc in front said.
"Hm? I guess I'll watch out for them." Michael said.
"It's a long ride. You got any tunes on that Pip-Boy of yours?" Crick asked.
"Yeah. Yeah, I picked up a signal not too long ago. Some radio station." Michael said. He tuned into Pilgrim Radio again and the car was filled with the sound of old songs from the Pre-War world for the rest of the ride.
What would've taken days of walking, took about two hours thanks to the car. The group had reached their destination. It was an average size shanty town in the middle of the desert with a massive wooden sign looming over that said the towns name: Danbury.
"Here we are. Danbury." Crick said. "I'd watch yourself out here kid, people have a tendency not to be make new friends." They all exited the car and The Prodigy left the group to wander the town. His eyes wandered around the scrap town. It looked almost like the towns you see in old western movies, but made out of whatever could be found. Main Street was filled with merchants, scavengers and residents. The place certainly wasn't a ghost town.
The Prodigy bumped and weaseled through the crowds of people, but he also caught the eyes of many people you'd rather not have staring at you. He saw a sign on one of the buildings.
"Danbury Saloon. Might find something here." Michael said. He tried to open the front door, but it was stuck. He gave it another push, but it didn't open. He took a few steps back and decided to use brute force. He readied his shoulder and counted. "Alright. 1. 2. 3!" He bolted toward the door, but someone had opened from the other side and Michael ran full force into them, knocking them both to the ground. Everyone in the bar turned their attention to the incident.
"Ah..shit. Sorry." Michael said as he helped the stranger up on his feet.
"Fuck you! Asshole." The stranger said as he pushed Michael away and left the saloon. Michael looked around and saw the silent patrons of the bar all staring at him. He cleared his throat and straightened himself out. He slowly walked toward the counter, feeling the eyes glued to him. The bar was filled with people of all shapes and backgrounds, people you wouldn't want to be on their bad side with.
"Howdy." The bartender said to the young man. "You're a bit young to be in a bar, Vault Dweller." She said.
"I-I take it you people don't see many people from Vaults?" Michael said, trying to keep his cool, but obviously intimidated.
"No. Especially not fresh ones." The bartender said. "What're you doing here?"
"...Well I'm-uh-I'm looking for-for work. I was told my skills could be put to good use here." Michael answered.
"Work? And what exactly can you do? Are you good with a gun?" She asked.
"Well..n-not particularly, b-but I can repair machines and even create new-new...stuff." Michael stuttered.
"A mechanic huh? Sorry, but we don't really need a tinkerer. What we need is someone with a steady hand and a holster. You have a gun, but I doubt you're experienced at all." The bartender said. "Why don't you go work on a Giddyup Buttercup, Vault Boy?" The patrons laughed and threw insults at Michael, humiliating the young Vault Dweller.
"Tell ya what kid." The bartender said. "I got a job for ya. There's a mangy mutt out back, see if you can shoo him away and I might give you a cap or two."
Michael knew this job was humiliating and a complete waste of his time, but it was the best shot he had. He shamefully obliged and went out the back door of the dinky saloon with the patrons joking and laughing at him.
Michael slumped out the back and heard rummaging of cans and garbage. He turned to the sound and saw a dog digging through piles of trash for food.
"Alright. Shoo." Michael demanded. "Go on. Get!" The dog didn't move, it didn't even bother with Michael. The mutt didn't see him as a threat.
Michael knew he wasn't going to win this and he didn't want to kill the dog. He leaned against the wall and slid to the dirt in defeat. He sighed at the situation he was in. The dog sat next to him.
"What am I gonna do?" Michael started talking to the mutt. "My Vault is ruined, I'm in a hellhole, and I'm alone." He looked to the dog to see it was chewing on some old meat. "You know, you and I aren't so different: no where to go, no one cares for us, people think we're a joke."
The dog looked up to the young Vault Dweller. It's eyes were different colors, one green and the other blue. The Prodigy smiled at the mutt.
"You got a name?" Michael asked. The dog barked as a response. "Don't think I can call ya 'Woof' now, can I?" The Prodigy looked down at the dog's meal. "How bout Dogmeat? For now at least." The dog wagged it's tail and stuck it's tongue out. "Alright. Dogmeat it is. Feel like sticking together?" Just then, screaming could be heard from Main Street and the dog ran off. "Well fine! Guess I'll be alone again." Michael yelled to the dog.
"What the hell was that anyway?" He got up on his feet and peered from an alley way to Main Street. There were people running away from something. Following the scared crowd, were masked strangers with guns, kind of looked like some of those bandits you'd see in the movies.
"Alright. You all know the rules." One of them shouted. "Fork up any and all caps, ammo, and water. Maybe we won't kill you all, maybe." This gang had been harassing this town for months, stealing and killing innocent traders and merchants alike.
"Who are these guys?" Michael said to himself.
"No one's coming." One of them said to the others. "Bring the captives." He ordered. A few of the eight men dragged three hostages up front. It was Crick and the mercenaries.
"Hey now, we don't need to go hurting nobody. I'm sure we can strike a deal." Crick said as he was pushed down to his knees as well as the others.
"You've all got one minute to comply, or we'll start killing." The bandit leader called out to the townsfolk. If Crick was there, then the car had to still be parked in the front. The Prodigy ran behind the building and to the front, he needed to get to the car.
"Thirty seconds!" One of the bandits called out the time left.
"Hey come on, we don't need to do this. We can settle this like civilized folk." Crick pleaded.
"Ten seconds!" The bandit said.
"Woah, I think you skipped a couple seconds there, buddy." Crick said.
"Five seconds." The bandit put his gun up to the back of Crick's head.
The sound of an engine could be heard, getting closer and closer. One of the bandits looked behind to see what was making the sound.
"Oh shit!" He screamed before he was rammed down along with four others by a speeding force. It was The Prodigy, he had come back with the Corvega and mowed down half of the bandits. He put the car in reverse and ran over two more. The car bounced like the road was full of speed bumps, confirming the bastards were dead.
"How's my bumper taste?!" Michael screamed from the car. The car began to make a horrible noise and stalled, leaving Michael a sitting duck. "Shit."
A bandit pulled Michael out of the car and threw him to the dirt. He pointed his gun at the young Vault Dweller.
"Ballsy little bitch." The bandit insulted. Before he could fire his gun, something ran up to the bandit and jumped on him, knocking him to the ground. It was Dogmeat, he had come back right in the nick of time. He was currently biting the bandits throat out.
"Good boy." Michael said as he got back on his feet. He looked around and saw one bandit left at the end of the dusty road. It was the bandit leader.
"You're mighty brave, for a Vault Dweller." He complimented. "Not many people could fix a car, and then use it to run down an entire gang."
"Well, I have a particular set of skills." Michael said.
"That's too bad. You seem mighty talented, but I'm gonna have to kill you." He said. "Do you know who I am, Dweller?"
"A petty man who can't conform to civilization?" Michael said. The bandit leader laughed.
"I am Mighty Maverick, the fastest gun in the West." He said.
"But we're in the Midwest." Michael pointed out.
"That we are." Maverick said. "But enough talk. It's just you and me."
Dogmeat growled at Maverick, but Michael ordered him to stay put. The two were put in a showdown, like it were high noon. Both had their hands ready to pull their gun from their belts and fire. The entire town came out of hiding to watch the event. The air turned tense as any one of them could've been put down in their prime by the other.
"Draw!" The bandit leader called. He grabbed his gun, but something happened. For Michael, time slowed down to a screeching halt and his focus was centered on Maverick. Parts of Mavericks limbs and body were highlighted green.
"What the fuck?" Michael said. He felt like he knew what this was, but he couldn't quite remember what it could do. His focus landed on Maverick's head and after a second of staring at it, a click was heard. Time had started again, but it was severely slow, all except Michael.
Michael ripped out his revolver out with incredible speed and shot Maverick in the head before he could aim his revolver at The Prodigy. The bullet hit and went through the bandits skull, killing him. Time went back to normal and Maverick dropped like a sack of bricks.
The townsfolk were in shock at the sight of Maverick and his gang dead at the hands of a Vault Dweller fresh out of the vault. Michael holstered his gun and Dogmeat stood next to him.
"Well..I got him." Michael said.
The town cheered and clapped for their savior. Their town was safe and Maverick's gang could no longer harass them. Crick went up to the young prodigy.
"Holy shit kid! That was incredible." He said. "No one's ever stood up against those bastards, let alone actually beat them."
"Well, I guess they had to be quicker. That was in self defense, right?" Michael said.
"Call it what you want, you're a hero." Crick said. "You saved my ass twice in one day. I owe you, big time."
"You could point me in another direction. Somewhere I can go to help find the cure for my vault." Michael suggested.
"Well, I can't say I know of any place like that, but I do know of Bordertown, a place they used to call Kansas City. You can go there, but it's on the other side of the state." Crick suggested.
"Bordertown. I can make it. I'm gonna need supplies though." Michael said.
"I sure people here will be more than happy to give you what you need." Crick said. "But if you're going to Bordertown, you're gonna need some extra protection. It's a dangerous journey."
"I'm sure I can find something." Michael said. "I'm gonna go get a drink." Michael went back to the saloon with Dogmeat following close. It was almost empty this time, except for the bartender.
"Shit. I was wrong about you, kid." The bartender admitted. "Danbury could use someone like you."
"That's a generous offer, but I need to get to Bordertown. I have a mission I must complete." Michael said.
"Bordertown? More power to ya, but the journey's gonna be hell." She said.
"I know, so I was wondering if you could supply water or something." The Prodigy said.
"Sorry kid, water is a rare commodity round here." She said. "We do have Nuka-Cola though. Will that work?"
"Nuka-Cola? Fine. It'll do for now. Thank you." Michael said. The bartender gave the young Vault Dweller eight bottles of Nuka-Cola, which had took up his hands. "I also took care of your dog problem. He'll be coming with me."
"Well that's good. Guess I should pay ya for the job. Here's the caps I promised, and a bit extra for taking care of that bastard, Maverick." She gave exactly 250 caps as payment. "Don't spend it all in one place."
"Thank you. I should get going while I still have the sun. I don't want to know what lurks in the darkness." Michael said. He left the saloon and saw that people were looting the bodies of the bandits. He went to a building marked as the general store.
"Hello?" Michael said as he pushed the door open with his back.
"Hello!" A voice called out. "Say, you're that guy! That Vault Dweller." It was a man, late 30's.
"Yeah that's me." Michael said as he set the Nuka-Cola bottles on the counter. "I'm looking for some protection, armor or a gun."
"Can't say we sell guns, but we do have armor." The store owner said. "I'm willing to give you a set of armor plating and basic leather armor for free, since you saved the town. Anything above that, you'll have to pay."
"Alright. I'll take whatever you can give me." Michael said.
The owner handed Michael a metal shoulder pad for his left shoulder, leather straps and belt with pouches, a metal vambrace for his right arm, and two leather knee pads. He also handed The Prodigy a free bandana for his dog.
"Thanks. I won't take up any more of your time." Michael said as put the Nuka-Cola in a satchel.
"Not a bother. Come back anytime." The store owner replied.
Michael left the general store with his new armored vault suit and went to say goodbye to Crick at the entrance. Crick was fixing up his stand while the mercenaries watched.
"Hey Crick!" Michael called out.
"Michael." Crick said as he shot his head to him. "Leaving already? Don't you think Danbury will need someone like you?"
"I think this town will do just fine without me. Besides, I don't want to waste any time." Michael said in response.
"Well alright then. I guess this is goodbye." Crick said. "But before you go, I wanted to give you this." He handed Michael a Pump-Action Shotgun with a couple shells. "It's a dangerous journey, you'll need heavy arms."
"Shit. Thanks man. Speaking of heavy arms, why aren't the merc's helping you?" Michael asked.
"Their contracts are done. They got me here, that was the job." Crick admitted.
"Sooo...They're up for hire?" Michael was interested.
"Well Bonnie is. The other fella found another job with some other caravan." Crick said.
"Hm. Interesting." The Prodigy said. "Well, I guess I should say goodbye for now. Hopefully our paths will cross again." They said their goodbyes and Micheal went up to Bonnie after.
"Hey." Bonnie said. "Nice job out there." She complemented his handiwork.
"Ah, it weren't nothing. Anyway, I heard you were up for hire." Michael said.
"Yeah, so? You looking to hire me?" Bonnie asked.
"Yes. I'm gonna need someone at my side where I'm going." Michael admitted.
"Where would that be exactly?" Bonnie wanted to know the job first.
"I'm going to Bordertown." The Prodigy said.
"Bordertown? Fuck that. You're on your own kid." Bonnie neglected the offer immediately.
"Now hold on a minute." Michael stopped her. "I know you like reward, who doesn't? If you help me restore my vault, I can offer you anything my vault can offer: Food, water, shelter, you name it. All you have to do is watch my back." Bonnie thought for a second.
"Anything?" Bonnie said.
"Anything within reasonable standards of my vault, which is extremely high." Michael said.
"Alright. I'm in." Bonnie agreed to join The Prodigy in his quest. "When do we leave?"
"We should get going now, while the sun is still up." Michael said.
Bonnie, Dogmeat, and The Prodigy left the town of Danbury to walk among the desert hills and roads to the reach the faraway city of Bordertown, in hopes of finding a way to restore Vault 25. This journey was to be a long and peerless journey, full of many new creatures, mutants, horrid hell spawns. But that didn't stop The Prodigy from reaching his goal. His home was in ruins, his family turned monsters. It's not that he could find a cure, he needed to find a cure.
—
"So The Prodigy fixed a car and decided not to use it to get to Bordertown?" Jr. questioned.
"The car broke down in the fight, the engine stalled and he would have to rewire it." The Stranger said.
The group had been walking for hours now and the sun was well above the sky. McKilla was still in her restraints, but everyone was listening to the old mans tale.
"Did they ever reach Bordertown?" Rodger asked.
"You'll know later." The old man didn't want to spoil anything.
"Oh come on. Can't you tell us now?" Rodger said. He looked to the direction of the old man and found that he had stopped in place. "What's wrong?"
"Shh." The old man demanded. "Listen." There was a distant, fast fluttering sound, like a bug of some kind.
"What the hell is that?" Courtney asked. The old man looked up. Even if he couldn't see at all, he had recognized the noise all too well.
"Cazadores."