Author’s note: With the recent news focus of world wars, Prime Video having made a new series based upon the video game, Fallout, and a recent attempt to play the game on my part, this has all stimulated ideas for a story. While I can’t take credit for the Fallout universe concept, I think I can create a new storyline that will adhere to some of the Fallout themes and make for something interesting. If you are a fan of post apocalypse stories or Fallout, then I hope you enjoy my version.

For the gamers out there…

 

 

October 23, 2077

My Pip-Boy wrist computer chirped and the blond-haired, smiling, wide-eyed cartoon character on the green screen pointed at me.

“You’ve been selected. Congratulations!”

I stared at the dancing cartoon figure watching the character become more serious.

“You are to report to RobCo headquarters at 10:00am, downtown Necropolis, for the orientation meeting.”

I looked up and through the floor to ceiling glass windows, past the swimming pool, and towards the skyline of Necropolis. We lived up on a hill in a prestigious neighborhood.

“What is it, Charles?”

My wife, Barbara, stepped in front of me. Her hair was always perfectly coiffed in a pinned updo with bangs. She wore a flattering dress that was brightly colored with a flowered pattern that exaggerated her thin waist. A flared hemline with crinolines added volume to her dress and exposed her legs from her knees down to her matching kitten heels.

“I’ve been selected.”

“I’m so proud of you, darling. All your hard work has paid off and you are finally being recognized. Of course you were selected.”

“I’m supposed to be there soon. I better get going. I hope this means we both get spots in one of the Vault-Tec shelters.”

I stood and Barbara took hold of my shoulders. She leaned in and kissed my cheek before rubbing off the lipstick she left behind. “I’m grateful for your hard work and encouragement. I’m so lucky to have you as my husband.”

“You’re an amazing homemaker, Barbara.”

I stepped out onto the patio and inhaled a deep breath of clean air. Sun glinted off the polished silver hood of my six-month old Chryslus Corvega. I rested my hand on the door handle. I was both elated and concerned. As Barbara had said, I had worked hard for the chance and excelled in all that I had put my hands to. I looked west, past the ocean, and to the growing threat of China and war. If I was selected, that meant the government was worried we were on the brink of World War Three.

My mind was a swirl of emotions as I drove into Necropolis, parked on the street near the building, and entered RobCo headquarters. I was surprised to see so much activity. As soon as I stepped into the lobby, a woman approached me, read data from my Pip-Boy, confirmed who I was, and led me into a large conference room. In all, there were about thirty of us.

Guards were stationed around the room and as soon as we were seated, the heavy conference room doors were closed and sealed. An elderly man stepped up to a podium.

“I am Winston Gentry, CEO of RobCo. Take a moment and look around the room at those that are next to you.”

I did. I recognized many of the men, maybe fifteen in all. An equal number of women were interspersed within the group, and they were some of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. I found the mix odd as few women worked outside the home.

“You are the brightest, best, and most genetically pure people in the world. You have been selected. Among you are doctors, physicists, engineers, soldiers, artists, writers, chefs, homemakers, computer scientists, and actors.

“In the aftermath of a nuclear war, you will have all the necessary traits, knowledge, and skills to rebuild and repopulate the world. Deep beneath this building lies a bomb-proof, radiation-proof facility.”

The guards stiffened as the man spoke his next words.

“As we meet, nuclear warheads have been launched towards us. We have mere hours to get you prepared.”

A man shouted exactly what I was thinking. “What about our families?!”

“Unless they have a shelter, they are lost.”

Pandemonium raced through the crowd. A single gunshot fired causing everyone to duck.

“Now is not the time for panic. Guards, escort them to the facility.”

We were corralled like cattle to a large circular platform. A guard connected his Pip-Boy to a control panel and pressed a button. We began a slow descent deep into the earth. My thoughts were for Barbara and a profound sense of guilt filled me. Several men tried to run but were quickly subdued and injected with something that put them to sleep.

When the elevator platform finally shuddered to a stop, we were herded forward, through the massive steel vault door that groaned and sealed behind us with a finality that chilled me to the bone. Beyond it lay a stark holding chamber lit with harsh white light. Men in pristine white clean suits stood in silence, checking each of us one by one, their faces hidden behind masks.

The wait felt endless, watching the others ahead of me disappear through another door. My pulse thundered in my ears, my hands clammy. When my name was finally called, a man motioned me forward and ordered me to strip. I hesitated… his gaze didn’t.

Naked and shivering, I stepped into a sterile, shower-sized chamber. The door hissed and shut behind me.

Without warning, a blast of gas erupted from hidden vents. The air burned my skin and clawed at my lungs, choking me. I staggered back, coughing, trying to wave it away, but there was nowhere to go. The acrid fog thickened, hotter now, and I slammed my fists against the glass wall.

That was when the ground trembled beneath my feet, faint at first, then sharper, a low groan that became a violent quake. Somewhere above us, something massive had fallen.

I pounded on the glass, shouting for help, though my voice sounded small and muffled in the sealed room. Another muffled boom rattled the walls, then another, closer this time.

More gas hissed into the chamber, blinding me, stinging my eyes. My knees gave out. I slid down the slick glass, my palms streaking it as I sank. The last thing I felt was the cold vibration of the earth shaking beneath me, and the sound of distant explosions echoing through the vault.

 

***

 

I heard a beeping and even though my eyes were closed, I could sense lights flashing. I struggled to open my eyes and when I did, I was staring through a small thick glass portal. A yellow light was flashing just outside the pod that I found myself in. The beeping stopped and harsh lights flickered on.

I would have rubbed my eyes if I could, but the pod was snug and constricted my movements. As the room beyond the pod came into focus, I struggled to understand what I was seeing. Beyond the thick, dirty glass of the pod was a living room, as if right out of a designer’s magazine with all the modern furnishings of 2077.

I heard the hiss of gas pressure, and my ears popped. A good sign that the pod was about to open. As I waited patiently, my mind went to Barbara. Was she safe?

The pod cracked open allowing my arms to move, but it never opened all the way. I lifted my arms and pushed. The pod door groaned, creaked, then finally lifted away. I fell forward, landing face down on the brightly colored shag carpet.

I slowly pushed myself up only to find long blonde hair fall in front of my face and unfamiliar weight tugging on my chest. A glance down caused me to scream a very feminine scream.

I began hyperventilating and pushed myself backwards until I fell back on my slightly more padded butt. I was completely naked and very clearly female. I sat there for many minutes trying to figure out what had happened to me. Slowly, my breathing regulated, and my mind settled enough to take stock of my situation.

I was just getting to my feet when a buzzer sounded to my left. There were three more pods in the room. Ignoring my changes and that I was naked, I rushed to the first pod and looked inside. I shrank back at what I saw. Inside was nothing but a desiccated corpse of a woman.

I stepped back and on the front of the pod a flashing yellow banner read containment failure, Eve 13. The other two pods were the same but labelled Eve 14 and Eve 15. All three contained dead women.

I moved back to my pod. It was labelled Mia.

A whoosh of air behind me had me spinning around so fast, my long hair flew out. A large drawer with four Pip-Boys and sets of clothing appeared. One Pip-Boy was labelled Mia. I held up the fashionable dress.

“What happened?” My soft whisper was gentle and feminine.

I didn’t know what had happened, but I wasn’t going to be able to find out while naked. I needed to see if Barbara was all right. I quickly dressed, unaccustomed to the tight-fitting bodice, bra, and puffy dress. I slipped the Pip-Boy on my wrist, and it started up.

As it did, I paused to look in a mirror. I was beautiful with long, albeit stringy blond hair and deep blue eyes. My body was very fit yet also alluring. I shook my head in disbelief.

The Pip-Boy chirped. “Welcome to your new life!” The cartoon character gave a thumbs up sign. “You may have noticed some changes about yourself. Your brain was transferred into a genetically engineered body, capable of withstanding increased amounts of radiation. It is stronger and faster than ever before and completely free of all diseases.

“More can be found in the owner’s manual, but, for now, you need to prepare for your husband. You and your three clone sister wives will repopulate the earth along with the other new families. Your husband should arrive soon, so you should get familiar with your new home and prepare a meal for the family.

“Radiation levels have dropped enough for you to go outside, but this home is established as your base and has enough food and water for several years. There is an armory of weapons in case the outside world is populated with mutant creatures.”

I tapped the Pip-Boy looking for the date. When I found it, I hit it numerous times.

“This can’t be right.”

The Pip-Boy suggested the date was around two hundred years in the future. A quick glance at the pods indicated the seals had dried and cracked. I had lucked out, even if I could not understand how I had become a woman.

The Pip-Boy advised I had a husband, so there must be other pods around. It also spoke about other families. I moved quickly, more to keep myself from thinking about what happened to me, the date, and the dreadful fear that pervaded my thoughts regarding Barbara and her fate.

Around the corner of the living room there was a kitchen and dining room.  I found a bedroom with more clothing for both men and women, a bathroom, and a nursery with four cribs. A single, heavy door was the only door out of the living area. I cautiously opened it and stepped into a long hallway. The door I exited had a label on it. Smith family residence.

I tried to ignore my growing panic and the changes in my body to no avail. Two hundred years had possibly passed. Everything and everyone I had ever known was gone. How could I live as a woman? Was there anything left to live for?

My breasts pressed against the constraining bra as my breathing deepened with my anxiety. Across the hallway was another door that read Johnson Residence. I knocked and waited before realizing my stupidity and opened the door. It was a room identical to the one I had just come from. I found four pods. There was one named Helen, and the others were Eve with numbers. All were dead a long time ago.

I ran from the room and opened door after door. Fifteen of them in all. All with the same results, just different family names. At the end of the hallway, a large steel door opened into a communal area. As I entered, I gasped at the sight. The scene was eerie, with cups, empty bottles, and remnants of paper streamers all over the place. There were dead, desiccated bodies everywhere. Their jumpsuits were tattered and disintegrating, a testament to many years of decay. The floor was stained with their dried decomposed remains.

What happened here? Three doors led from the large room I was in. They were labeled control room, main facilities and exit, and operating. I opened the door to the control room and found a body sitting in a chair. Just like the others, only a skeleton remained with remnants of what the person had been wearing. On a desk, a dark brown glass bottle was tipped on its side.

A computer, encrusted with dust, blinked with a green cursor. I wiped the screen with my hand and touched the keyboard. Text began appearing.

‘June 23, 2282

RobCo Log Entry – July 4, 2079

It’s been over twenty months since the Great War. Our task to secure the families is complete. We managed to get the genetic payload along with copies of our data successfully launched from the facility. Mr. Gentry had told us the vital nature of this component to our duties; however, it was not without loss. The missile cover was blocked, and we had to send two volunteers to unblock it. They never returned.

Today, we celebrated Independence Day. I waited until everyone was drunk before slipping the Dyrehycyne into the punch bowl. It was my responsibility to end their lives. The surface is destroyed, and radiation would kill us. The food reserves are for the chosen families and not us. Better to end the staff lives quickly and painlessly.

I have no idea when the sensors will allow the release of the families. They are our future.’

I reached for the brown bottle and rolled it over. On the stained label was a symbol of the Pip-Boy character lying on the ground with x’s over its eyes. Dyrehycyne was written above the image and below a simple statement:

‘For a quick and painless death to avoid nuclear fallout. Enjoy the brisk taste.’

I shuddered and turned back to the computer. There were hundreds of logs, but, of note, were the ones dated from October 23, 2077.

‘RobCo Log Entry – October 23, 2077

It has finally happened. The Great War has begun. As I type this, the facility is on lockdown and the final preparations to receive and process those selected individuals are underway. The nuclear bombs are coming. God help us all.

RobCo Log Entry – October 24, 2077

Yesterday was a difficult day for all of us. We barely managed to get all thirty residents secured and the facility sealed before the bombs landed. I can only imagine the devastation on the surface. Now, we must prepare the residents for their new bodies. Over the next three months, we will accelerate the growth of the selected ones’ clones. Forty-five additional female clones, named Eve, will supplement childbearing for the families. Each man will have a clone of one of the selected women along with three Eve clones to help repopulate the world.

The process is simple. We remove the brains from the bodies of the chosen. Once their new bodies are formed based upon their genes with genetic scrubbing and enhancements we provide them, we then will insert their brains into their clone bodies. Then we secure the family units in stasis pods.

The system is designed to wait until the radiation is low enough for the families to survive on the surface. Once that occurs, the female pods will open, giving the women time to prepare the home. Hours later, the men’s pods will open, and they will be directed to their new family unit.

RobCo log Entry – January 30, 2078

What a mess! We were about to start the operation to transfer the chosen brains into their new clone bodies when we discovered the glue for their labels had failed. We have no idea which brain belongs to which body. It’s a huge, bloody mess. I made the executive decision to take our thirty chosen brains and place them into the chosen clones knowing that will cause some problems when they wake up. I figure they were chosen for their brains and abilities, hopefully they will be smart enough to adapt and overcome.’

I read more and stepped back. That was why I had been placed into Mia’s clone. It had been a mistake that I had randomly been given Mia’s body. I looked down at my feminine body as realization dawned on me. This was me now. None of the people or systems that made this happen were alive and I doubt I could trust the aged equipment. I was a woman. I may be the only woman left with fifteen men. I might be the only person left in the world.

The fear of isolation and the gnawing feeling of loss almost overwhelmed me. I stepped out of the control room and headed towards operations. I braced myself before opening the door. I took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The space was very large and thankfully there were no dead bodies scattered about. To my right were nearly eighty glass tubes that I assumed were for creating the clones. Some still had fluid in them, but most were cracked and empty.

To my left was what could only be an operating room, sealed off with glass and steel doors.

Straight ahead, were fifteen pods. I slowly walked up to them and tentatively looked inside. As with all the other pods, these too seemed to have failed. The hoses were decayed, the glass portals cracked, and the men inside were dried husks. I paused at the one with my name on it. I swallowed as I looked inside to see what I would have looked like had my brain been transferred into this clone.

Suddenly, a yellow light began flashing. I glanced down the row of pods to find the lights on the last pod flickering. Beeping and alarms sounded.

I rushed over to the pod and was startled to find the face of a man. I shrieked when his eyes fluttered but did not open. I glanced down at myself. A woman. Alone. Who was this man? I sought a weapon but couldn’t find anything. A table leg would have to do. I toppled a table and twisted off one of the legs not paying any attention to the fact it seemed to come away easily.

I held it up as the beeping stopped and the pod slowly opened. Like me, the man fell forward, but he caught himself on all fours. He looked up with a furrowed brow and widened eyes. He scanned the room, then locked his eyes on mine.

“Mia?”

His voice cracked as he spoke. His eyes widened even more as he looked down at himself.

“What? What happened to me?” He stood quickly and stared at his hands.

I held up the table leg as his eyes met mine again.

“Mia? It’s me… Jennifer. I’m a man? Talk to me… What’s going on?”

I was about to say something when a buzzer sounded, and a drawer opened with Pip-Boys and clothing.

“I’m not Mia. I was Charles Miller. You were one of the selected? One of the other women?”

He nodded slowly. “You’re not Mia?”

“I woke up from my pod a few hours ago. As… Mia. I found a computer with some logs that explain what happened. You might want to get changed.”

“My God… The war happened, didn’t it?”

I nodded. He turned to the drawer, looked back at the name on his pod, then moved to James’ stack of clothing and Pip-Boy. He dressed in silence and stared at his Pip-Boy as it turned on.

“June 23, 2282. Is that date real?”

“I think so.”

“My Pip-Boy is telling me my four wives are waiting for me in the Smith residence. What the hell is going on?”

 

***

 

I sat him down and explained all I knew. I even showed him the residences and the computer logs. We were back in the Smith residence where I had woken up. He sat down heavily into a chair in the living room. I sat across from him on the couch.

“I’m a man… James Smith according to my Pip-Boy. I was Jennifer Moore. A surgeon. This is surreal. Who were you?”

“I was Charles Miller. An engineer. I’m married… or maybe not now to my wife, Barbara. She… must have…”

“I’m so sorry, Mia.”

“But I’m not Mia.”

“You have her clone and are younger and prettier than she was, but you still look much like her. Mia… she was my best friend. We were neighbors. Mia Taylor was her name. She was an actress. Can I call you Mia?”

I nodded. “It’s a nice name for a woman, since this is what I am now. And you? James?”

“I’m fine with that.”

“Did you have a family, James?”

“Just my husband. We were getting divorced. He was abusive and disliked that I was earning more than he did. The world is not a place where women can succeed at anything other than being a housewife. We should explore more and make sure the food and water reserves are still safe.”

“You seem so calm, James.”

“I was a woman in a man’s world, Mia. I was abused. Raped by colleagues and my own husband. I’m a man now. I feel so strong and virile. For the first time in my life, I feel safe. I suspect you feel the opposite.”

I nodded. “I think this situation would be frightening enough as a man. I feel weak and more vulnerable.”

“Stand up for me.”

I stood and James came close to me. He grabbed the hem of my dress.

“What are you doing?”

“Relax, Mia.”

I couldn’t relax watching his hand move up the inside of my dress. I closed my eyes and felt a tug and heard ripping fabric.

“That’s better.”

I opened my eyes to see the crinolines in his hand. My dress was intact, but without the puffy fabric, lighter and hugging my hips more. I stared at James.

“Women should never have to wear those puffy things. I know it is the style, but we can’t explore with your dress getting snagged on everything.”

I turned and faced a mirror. The dress looked much sleeker and accentuated my shape better. “Thank you.”

James moved into the kitchen, and I followed him. He quickly found the food and water reserves. I was a bit lost in the kitchen to be honest. Barbara always had food ready for me.

“That’s not good.”

I leaned in close to James and investigated the storage room. Many of the rusted cans of food had exploded and had dripped onto the floor, drying many years ago. I pulled a can of pork and beans that looked intact. The label was all faded and the can was beginning to rust.

James found several usable bottles of water, but many had their caps rusted off and the contents evaporated long ago.

I went over to the kitchen sink and turned on the water. We could easily hear the groaning pipes. Rusty water sputtered and spit into the sink. James reached for the tap to turn it off, but I stopped him with a touch of my hand.

“Wait. Give it time. There must be bulk water storage somewhere in the facility. The system would have been tested and the residual water left in the pipes rusted them. It should clear soon.”

The water pressure was low, but after a few minutes, it began to clear.

James smiled. “Engineer, huh?”

“I designed a lot of systems like this. We still need to find the water tank to confirm how much we have.”

James reached for my hair. “We could both use a shower. I can’t have my wife looking bedraggled.”

“I’m not your wife.”

James laughed. “It says you are Mia Smith on your Pip-Boy.”

“How can you even laugh at that? I’m married, remember?”

“I can show you how to style your hair.”

“Stop it!”

“And makeup. You must always look perfect.”

“It’s not funny!”

“It wasn’t when I was a woman either. Sorry, it must be all the testosterone. It’s interesting to see how you will cope with being a woman.”

“You seem to handle being a man just fine.” I walked over to the coffee table and picked up my table leg. I pointed it at him. “Don’t make me use this.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

I huffed and stamped my foot in a very ladylike manner. James’ eyes softened.

“Mia used to do that. You have her mannerisms. You walk and sit just like her.”

“Let’s hope James Smith wasn’t an assh…”

“A woman shouldn’t swear, Mia.”

“I’m going to find the bulk water system. You can stay here if you want and revel in your manliness.”

“I’ll go with you, Mia. I’m sorry I upset you. May I ask you a question?”

“Since we are probably the last two people alive on Earth, then we better learn to converse.”

“How did you cope with the feeling of superiority and strength?”

I frowned as I looked at him. “I never felt superior, and I was just an average man. There is always someone else stronger than you. I can understand how you might be feeling, but you will get used to it, find your limits, and live within them.”

James reached for a table leg and looked like he was about to rip it off.

“Wait!”

“What?”

“That’s our table. Get one from another residence.”

James blinked at me. “There’s a lot to unpack from those statements. I won’t touch ‘our’ table.” He grinned.

I walked out of the room, across the hall to the Miller’s residence. I pointed to a table. “This is where I would have lived with my four wives. Take that table leg.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

James seemed to take much pleasure in ripping off the table leg. “The Millers will be very upset with us.”

“They will get over it. Let’s check their food and water while we are here.” I found the storage room off the kitchen and looked inside.

James came up behind me and his hand touched my butt as he leaned over me. I jumped at his touch.

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“What? Me?” James tried to look innocent.

I found myself huffing again and dug out a half dozen cans and bottles.

“So much for years of food.”

James held up a can of Spam. “The meat of champions. Is this what we are going to have for dinner, honey?”

I pushed past him and walked quickly into the hallway, then all the way to the common room.

“Mia used to do that. When she was angry, she would give her husband the silent treatment.”

I glared at James before opening the door to the facilities and exit. This area was more industrial with pipes and valves everywhere. To the left was a sign for mechanical. To the right was a sign for barracks, bathrooms, kitchen, and exit.

“Talk to me, Mia.”

I spun to face him. Something strange came over me. I had seen that look in other men’s eyes when they saw a beautiful woman. I felt a smile tug up at the corner of my mouth. My hips moved a little more as I stepped up to him. He took a step back until his back hit the wall.

I leaned close. “You better be nice, husband, or you will be sleeping on the couch.” I couldn’t believe my own mouth, but I saw him squirm. I looked down and saw his pants were rather pronounced. I blushed as I quickly turned away from him.

“What have you done to me, Mia? I can hardly walk.”

“Get used to that feeling.” Even as I said it, I felt warmth in places I never had before.

We moved to the mechanical room, and I stared at the vast array of systems. I pointed up to a water tank. “The good news is it appears the main water tank is in decent shape. The bad news is that it appears a valve must have recently been activated and opened the flow of water most likely around the time our pods opened. Water is dripping from numerous joints.”

“Can you fix the leaks?”

I shook my head. “The pipes look very rusted and thin in places. One turn with a wrench and they might break. With all the dripping, we might only have a week’s worth of water. If we could shut off the valve, we might be able to preserve it.”

“Assuming we have a hundred water bottles in the facility that have survived, we need to find another source of water.”

I placed a bucket under a drip and headed in the opposite direction. We found some more clothing in the barracks. I even found a passable blue jumpsuit and a comb. In the weapons room we found backpacks, traded our table legs for pistols, and we found some hiking boots and jackets that fit us.

The kitchen had a few bottles of alcohol, some more food, and some water, but most were spoiled. We were now standing before the heavy steel seal.

My Pip-Boy buzzed, and I glanced at it. The character on the screen was holding a steaming plate of food. ‘It’s time to make your husband dinner. As the lead wife, it is your responsibility to direct the Eve clones. After dinner, start the breeding process. Your new body has enhanced sexual desire.’ I grimaced.

“What does it say, Mia?”

“Nothing. It must be evening. We should make some dinner and get some rest. Tomorrow might be a better day to go outside.”

“Go ahead and get a start on dinner, and I will see what medical supplies I can find.”

“Me?”

“I keep forgetting you were a man and were practically useless.”

“Did all women think that way?”

“The vast majority.”

“That’s so wrong.”

“Did you ever cook a meal?”

“Twice. When Barbara was sick. My God. I was useless.”

“The good news is you are a woman now and your uselessness will dwindle rapidly. I’m sure you had other skills that paid for your lavish lifestyle.”

“I did well enough. I’ll find a few cans and heat them up.”

“Make sure there is no rust inside the can and smell it first. We can’t afford to get sick.”

“I can’t believe they messed up our brains.”

James grabbed my shoulders. “We’re alive. This may not have been what either of us planned, but we both beat the odds. At my count, out of seventy-five people and clones, we are the only two that survived. We need to be thankful. Have a shower. You will feel better.”

“We shouldn’t waste the water.”

“As a surgeon I can tell you most of the people that died did so from infection. We’ve been in those pods for just over two hundred years. I can’t even imagine what germs and bacteria we have on us. We can waste a little water to make sure we start these new lives of ours clean.”

I nodded. “Grab some backpacks and collect more food and water. If we go up tomorrow, even for a day excursion, we should be fully packed for a week, just in case.”

“I’m on it.”

I watched as James headed towards the operating room. I glanced back at my Pip-Boy and reread the last line about sexual desire. I shook my head to clear away the confusing thoughts that I struggled with. Barbara had to be dead. The world was destroyed. I had been changed into a woman and the only other living soul was a man that used to be a woman.

The world was severely messed up.

I made my way back to the Smith residence. I found a pot, opened a can of pork and beans, and put it on the stove with low heat while I went to take a shower. I did the best I could to not waste water. I would turn it on, get wet, then turn it off while I soaped myself well. I was aroused by the time I finished. I wasn’t certain if all women felt the same sensations I did when they showered, or this was due to the genetic alterations they had made. It took all my resolve and a healthy dose of thoughts about Barbara and my situation to keep me from exploring further.

I stepped out of the shower, dried myself off, got dressed, and combed out my long hair. A glance in the mirror was all it took for me to realize I would never look upon my old face again. The woman looking back at me was incredibly beautiful. Thoughts of suicide were prevalent. Was it worth living as a woman in a post nuclear war world?

I entered the kitchen just as James came back with two fully loaded backpacks. He carried them like they weighed nothing. He tossed two belts and holsters onto the table.

“I packed extra clothing for you, food, water, ammunition, and medical supplies. There should be enough in the packs for a week each if we are careful and ration it.”

I looked up into his eyes. He was taller than me by at least six inches. “Is it worth it?”

James’ eyes roamed over my body. It wasn’t lustful, but appreciative. “Is what worth it?”

“We’ve lost everything. The world is likely destroyed. We may be the last two people on earth. We could find some dyrehycyne and…”

“God no, Mia! Don’t think like that. Maybe you didn’t see it, but the world was a mess before all of this. People were unhappy. They were addicted to drugs. They lived their lives with no love and the only goals were to play the perfect housewife or career husband. It was a patriarchal world, and everyone was covering their pain with masks that suggested everything was perfect. We have a second chance. Maybe life has recovered up there. It might be utopia.

“You make it sound like life was horrible. I had a new car. A great job. I had a wife and a home overlooking the city.”

“Is that what life was all about for you, Mia? A car, job, wife, and home? What about love, spontaneity, doing something you wanted to do because you enjoyed it?”

“I was considered successful.”

“But were you happy?”

I turned away from him. I never thought about happiness. I provided. That was my role. “Dinner is ready. I think.”

 

***

 

We ate overcooked pork and beans that had a slightly metallic taste in silence. James had a shower, and I heard the water going on and off like I had done. He was intelligent and resourceful, and I found that his upbeat attitude helped me.

He came out wearing only boxer shorts and I had to avert my eyes. My body felt flushed in his presence, but my mind rebelled.

“I’m going to try and sleep. I’m not physically tired, but mentally exhausted.”

“I’ll stay up for a bit longer. Before you go, let me measure you.”

James took one of the holster belts and leaned in close to wrap it around my waist. When he pulled the belt, I was snugged closer to him. He smelled wonderful.

He marked the belt and stepped back while I caught my breath.

“That should do it. I’ll adjust it to your size. Good night, Mia.”

“Good night, James.”

I quickly headed into the bedroom. There was only one bed. A large bed. Did the designers imagine five people would sleep in there together? I laid down at the edge of the bed and pulled a musty blanket over me. The bra and corseted dress pinched uncomfortably.

I stayed awake for a long time, tossing and turning. Eventually, I heard snoring in the living room and decided to get up. James had fit his over six-foot frame onto the couch, but it had to be uncomfortable. He would wake up all stiff.

I gently woke him. His hand moved to his neck to massage it.

“Come to bed, James.”

“You need your privacy.”

“The bed is huge. Just keep to your side.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

He followed me into the bedroom. I laid down and sighed as the bra pinched.

“You would be more comfortable if you took off your bra.”

I gave him a look.

“Seriously. Those dresses have enough support you don’t even need one. Wearing a bra and a dress with a corseted chest is uncomfortable. That’s why I used to wear a nightgown for sleeping.”

“I’m not wearing a frilly nightgown.”

“You wore a frilly dress today.”

My bra pinched again. “Fine.”

I found a nightgown and went into the other room to change. I had to admit, it was far more comfortable, yet, at the same time, it was also arousing, especially when I saw myself in the mirror. Barbara would wear something like this for our monthly sex time. I spun slightly and admired the way my butt was barely hidden.

James was asleep again, so I slipped into bed and quickly fell asleep.

 

***

 

I was so comfortable, and a warm arm was wrapped around me. I snuggled back into the warmth. I dozed contentedly for a minute when I felt something hard pressing against my butt. I opened my eyes and saw James’ arm that I had pulled tightly against my chest.

When I realized what was poking me, I shrieked and fell out of the bed. James looked over the edge at me.

“What are you doing on the floor?” He rolled more and grunted. “God. What is with this thing? I can’t even lay on my stomach.”

I covered myself as much as I could. “You were… uhm… spooning me.”

James smiled and rolled onto his back. His boxers pointed to the ceiling. “I had the best dream.”

I stood and quickly got to the door when James’ voice stopped me.

“You’re very sexy in that nightgown. Maybe we could…”

I felt my eyes widen and I rushed out of the room. I grabbed my clothes and headed to the bathroom. The bathroom had no lock, but I felt safer with the door closed. I had to pee, so I pulled down my panties and found them damp. After peeing, I wiped myself dry and a moan escaped my lips. My hand immediately went to my mouth to cover my sound, but it was too late.

“Everything all right in there, Mia?”

“Y… Yes. Just changing.”

I quickly changed into my dress, then opened the door and squeezed past James. I felt heat come to my face as he grinned at me.

He closed the door and through it I could hear the toilet seat being lifted, then the telltale sound of water hitting water, then likely everywhere else. James growled and cursed.

“Damn it!”

I giggled. “Everything all right in there, James?”

“Yes! No! There’s pee everywhere!”

“Be a gentleman and leave the seat down. After you clean up, of course.”

James came out five minutes later. “You know when a firehose has too much water pressure and it just goes everywhere?”

“There’s an easy fix for that.”

“I figured it out halfway through. What’s for breakfast?”

I tossed a Fancy Lads Snack Cake on the table. James stared at it.

“Those are still good after two hundred years?”

“Mmhmm. Still soft too.”

“You had one already?”

“Me? Nooo. I would not eat one without you.”

“Liar! I see the cream on your lips.”

He watched as I licked my lips. It was a flirty move on my part, but there was something about being a woman that enjoyed watching James’ reactions to me.

“Oh… I didn’t eat one to really eat it. I was merely testing it for safety.”

“Don’t bat your eyes at me. You’re messing with my head. I can’t be mad at you when you look so damn cute.”

I leaned forward and opened the other cake. I slid the soft sponge past my lips and took a bite. “Mmmm.”

“Was that the last one?”

“Might be.”

“Give me that!”

I smiled as I shook my head.

“You are an evil woman, Mia! Those are my favorites.”

“Mine too.” I took another bite, and James tackled me onto the couch.

He grabbed the remaining bite and stuffed it into his mouth before spinning me over and giving my butt a light smack. I squealed. We wrestled a bit and were both laughing. Then, as if a switch turned on, James got up and backed away. He spun around and headed to the bedroom.

“Are you all right?” I called after him.

“I’m okay.”

I stepped up to the bedroom door just as James was putting on his shirt. “You sure?”

“You’re married and you’re not Mia.”

“What I am is confused.”

James faced me. “Mia was my lover.”

“What? But that’s…”

“Illegal. I know. It happened more than you know. Husbands were gone for more than ten hours a day. Women got together to commiserate about their lives…”

I had a sudden thought about Barbara. I was never physically abusive to her, but she was never excited about having sex with me. Did she have a lover?

“We were just joking around, James. Nothing is wrong with that. Is there?”

“No… Not at all.”

“Come on. Let me show you something.”

James followed me into the kitchen. I opened a cupboard to show him over a hundred Fancy Lads Snack Cakes.

“You are a conniving girl. You made me believe that was the last one.”

“You assumed that. I also found some Sugar Bombs.”

“All the sugar you need for the day. Explosively delicious.”

I tossed him a cake. “I’m sorry about you losing Mia.”

He caught the cake and opened it. He paused as he brought it to his mouth. “It’s not like that. We were friends and lovers, but not in love. She was a bit ditsy. She could barely remember her lines when acting, but she had the looks, and the movie-goers adored her.”

“I never fathomed that women would have sex with other women.”

“Of course you didn’t. Everyone went around believing the world was perfect. We all had our roles. No one ever spoke about such things, but it happened more than you can imagine. Women were mere objects. Trophies might be a more apt description. A beautiful wife was a sign of success.”

James bit into the cake.

“Why did women put up with it?”

“Most put up with it because of a need to feel secure. An unwed woman was scorned and hounded by her parents and those around her.”

“Are you ready to see the world?”

He nodded, then went to the coffee table. He slipped the belt and holster around my hips. “That’s a good fit.” He put his own on then held out a backpack for me.

When the pack was settled on my shoulders, I found the weight quite light.

“You didn’t have to lighten my load, you know?” I grabbed his pack and held it up but found it light as well.

“I didn’t. These packs must be sixty pounds each.”

After James secured his pack, I found the manual my Pip-Boy had mentioned. In a file called ‘About your new body’, I found some startling information.

“It says here, your genetically altered body is stronger than you realize. Not only can it handle increased radiation levels and impervious to disease, but it is approximately twice as strong as a normal woman your size. It says more…”

James gently grabbed my wrist. “Let me see that.”

I pulled my hand back. “No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“It can’t be that embarrassing.”

I sighed and let him read my Pip-Boy.

“Increased sexual desire… Why does that not surprise me? A bunch of male scientists not getting enough sex at home decide women need to be more sexual. They were morons.”

“It’s a well-known fact that women don’t have a libido.”

“Spoken like the man you once were. I know the human body, Mia. A woman’s body is far more sensitive than a man’s and women have lots of libido. What men don’t realize is that sexual desire is not triggered in women like it is in men.”

“It isn’t?”

“Women respond to close emotional and relational bonds. Acts of kindness. Gentle touches. Loyalty. Caring.”

“When I provided for Barbara, that was caring. I was loyal. I never hit her.”

“Did you kiss her? Did you tell her you loved her? Did you put her above your career?”

“I didn’t have to kiss her or tell her I loved her. She knew that.”

“Did she?”

“We had sex once a month.”

“When you did, did she orgasm?”

“What?”

“Most women are capable of multiple orgasms during sex. Did she orgasm when you had sex?”

“How would I know?”

“Believe me. You would know.”

James pointed to my Pip-Boy. “Listen to this. Since we had the ability to alter genes, we made sure you can stay the perfect wife. You will never have to shave. This way you will always feel smooth to your husband.”

I pulled my hand away. “What about you? What did the scientists give you?”

James looked at me before pulling up his Pip-Boy. “Increased strength and stamina. Same as yours. About twice normal. Increased muscle mass for a more handsome physique. A larger… I think we should get going.”

I nodded. “Let’s check on the water level first.”

We stopped off in the mechanical room. The bucket was overflowing, and the tank was at least a third less than the day before.

“This isn’t good. There must be more leaks in the pipes behind the walls.”

“Can you slow it down?”

“I would need parts. There is too much water pressure if I attempt to fix it now. If I tried to block the water where it enters the valve, we might lose far more water before I could even stop it. That valve, if I do the wrong thing, it might open the water flow more or break altogether.”

“We may be worried for nothing. Let’s get topside and see what we are dealing with.”

I stared at the water tank until James’ fingers guided my eyes to meet his.

“I know you are worried, Mia. Maybe we can find some parts.”

“Okay.”

We moved to the main platform where the giant steel seal blocked access to the elevator platform. Using my Pip-Boy, I connected a wire to it and to the control panel. A button lit up.

James was staring at the seal. I gently touched his arm.

“Get your gun ready. I doubt there will be any immediate threats, but we should be prepared. We don’t know what’s out there.”

He pulled his gun out. “Just like the old west.”

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

I hit the button and drew my pistol. We both kept our aim beyond the steel gear-driven seal. A large motor dropped into place and engaged the drive. The seal groaned ominously as the giant door moved to the side.

A woosh of dusty air hit us. The elevator platform had a lot of debris on it but looked serviceable. We moved to stand on the platform, and I used my Pip-Boy to engage the platform. The platform lurched and bucked but began moving upwards.

“What happens to the seal, Mia?”

“As the platform goes up, the seal should close. In many ways, it feels like we were just on this platform and yet it also feels like a lifetime ago. I wish I had the chance to get to know you before. We were all strangers.”

“I don’t think they were prepared for war to come so soon.”

The light became brighter as we approached the surface. A heavy metal dome covered the platform elevator shaft likely to protect it in the event of a nuclear blast. When the platform stopped, we could see outside through gaping holes that had likely been torn from the dome.

The door we had used to enter the platform was fully blocked. We walked up to one of the openings and stepped outside for the first time in two hundred years.

I fell to my knees as the barren landscape stretched endlessly before me, a vast expanse of crumbling ruins and twisted metal. The oppressive silence weighed heavily upon me, broken only by the distant howl of the wind.

Necropolis, my home city, lay before me like a ghostly scar of its former self, rising from the ashes of the old world, its skeletal skyscrapers loomed ominously against a blood-red sky. The buildings stood in silent witness to the devastation wrought by the Great War, their shattered windows and crumbling facades bore the brunt of nuclear annihilation.

Streets once bustling with life now lay empty and deserted, choked with rubble and debris. The air was thick with the stench of decay, a sickening miasma that clung to every surface like a shroud. A sense of unease washed over me like a cold tide. Necropolis was a place of death and despair, a grim reminder of the world that had been lost to the fires of war.

I felt tears falling down my cheeks and a gentle hand tugging me to my feet. James pulled me into a hug, and I clung tightly to him. We stood together that way for many minutes. He held my shoulders as we finally took a step apart.

“I… I felt the explosions when we were put through the sterilization process. My imagination could not fathom this level of destruction.”

“We can go back if you want, Mia.”

I shook my head. “No. We don’t have the resources. We might be able to scrounge some parts. I say we move to higher ground to get a better view of the surrounding area. We need to plan and going back down won’t help us survive in the long-term. I’ll go back if you want too.”

“I don’t know about you, Mia, but seeing this devastation makes me want to live. It’s like a challenge to find a way when all looks hopeless.”

I pointed to a hillside towards the southeast. “My home was on the hill. Some part of me wants to know if Barbara made it out in time. Let’s see if we can get higher in one of the taller buildings first.”

James reached out and squeezed my hand in silent acknowledgement. With a heavy heart, we took our first tentative steps into the heart of Necropolis. We had not gone far when I stopped in my tracks. Three human skeletons, bleached by the sun, lay partially covered by sand and debris. The empty eye sockets of the skulls reminded me of the lives that were lost.

I sniffed. “I should be stronger.”

“It’s affecting me too, Mia.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly feeling parched, but I continued. On what was left of a street, the charred carcass of a Chryslus Corvega caught my eye. I paused next to it and spun in a slow circle to get my bearings. I ran my hand over the scorched flared fender.

“I think this was my car. It’s close to where I parked it.”

“Do you think it still runs?”

I laughed. “Thank you, James. I needed that.”

“Any time, Mrs. Smith.”

“Careful. There is still a couch for you to sleep on, Mr. Smith.” I pointed to a building a block away. “The structure looks sound enough. Let’s see if we can get a better view.”

The building was nothing more than twisted steel and cement framework, but the stairs were intact. The lowest floors had more debris and even a few walls, but the further we climbed, the walls seemed to have been blown out by the nuclear blasts. We made it up twelve stories until the stairs to the next floor were missing. We edged our way to where the windows used to be and looked out upon the once bustling city.

We could see craters in the distance from the bombs. There were no signs of life or water. We moved around the building looking in different directions. Towards the southeast, homes and buildings looked more intact. To the west, we caught glimmers of the ocean. To the north, skeletal buildings blocked much of what we could see.

“Where did you live, James?”

“Due south of Necropolis. Oceanfront.”

“We should go there. It would be closer than my old home.”

“Not today. I think we need to get back well before dark and get an early start in the morning.”

I nodded. We made our way back down through the building. Not much survived the blast, but we found scraps of paper still in desk drawers. More skeletons. We even found an old cafeteria that still had a few Nuka Cola drinks in a fridge we pried open.

We had just emerged from the building when we saw the first definitive sign of life. Three bugs the size of dogs skittered up to us.

“Cockroaches!”

The creatures chittered madly. One flew straight for me. I dove and rolled to the side. James opened fire, his bullets never coming close. I got back to my feet and drew my gun, took careful aim, and fired. The cockroach that attacked me exploded in yellow guts.

Another one leapt for James, and I got off another shot, killing it. The third one stopped, rushed over to the first one I killed and began eating it.

I grabbed James’ hand, and we ran for the elevator platform. I connected my Pip-Boy and got the platform moving. As we descended into the earth, I carefully checked James over. He was fine. “You’re a horrible shot.”

“I was a woman. I never fired a gun in my life. How did you shoot so well?”

“I frequented the gun club. I took second place in the last handgun and rifle competition.”

“Figures. You were a manly man that conquered the world on a daily basis.”

“You’re more of a man than I ever was, James. I keep thinking about my relationship with Barbara. All the things you said women want and need. I feel those. I’m a day-old woman and I feel the need for them. It’s not like I ever needed the skill of shooting before now. That hobby paid off at least.”

“You have a lot of good traits even though you were a man before, Mia. I appreciate your humility. I see the regret in your eyes.”

“Do you know what the last thing I said to Barbara was?”

“You don’t need to share that with me.”

“I told her you’re an amazing homemaker. I was an idiot. To think I was selected to repopulate the world because I was somehow special. I would have had four wives that every day as I went about solving the post-war world’s problems, I would tell them what great homemakers they were as I left the residence in the morning.”

“We should have dragged one of the cockroaches down here. They used to be edible.”

I laughed. “How would you like your cockroach cooked, husband? Baked, or boiled? How do you know what to say to break me out of my mood?”

“Do you want to know the last thing I said to my husband, Mia?”

I chuckled, “I’m going to repopulate the world, and I will have a bigger penis than you?”

James doubled over with laughter. “That would have been perfect! I said get familiar with your right hand because you will never touch me again. How prophetic was that?”

We stepped into the facility, and I resealed the door. “It’s sad. I’m sorry you were never treated better. Let’s stop by the weapons room. I have some ideas for you.”

We walked down the hallway and turned into the weapons room. I handed James a shotgun. “This might be more your style. We should also take a rifle for shooting things at a distance and with your help, I can make some machetes.”

“Machetes?”

“Long knives. We wasted bullets on cockroaches. With machetes we could have fended them off just as well.”

“Remember going to the movies, Mia?”

“Yes.”

“I hated them. The men were always macho and saving the damsel in distress. Just once I wanted to see a movie with a girl that could kick butt. You would be perfect to star in that. You’re gorgeous and you can handle a gun. I would have paid to watch that in a heartbeat.”

 

***

 

We spent the afternoon creating more weapons. We ate, talked, had quick showers, then went to bed. I woke with James cuddling me again. This time I stayed for a few extra minutes. There was something comforting about having him pressed against me and his arm protectively around me.

I knew he was waking up when I started to get poked in the butt again. My arousal peaked, but I slipped from his arms and out of bed. I went to the bathroom and changed into the jumpsuit.

James whistled when I exited the bathroom. “Our ancestors would be shocked. A woman wearing something other than a dress.”

“I kind of enjoy the feeling of a dress over this, but if we are going to your old house today, a dress is not as practical. You like it?” I spun for him.

“It shows off your… I’ll be right back.” He rushed into the bathroom.

I stepped out because the sounds he was making were enough to make me want to touch myself. I decided to give him privacy and checked on the water tank. At the current rate of leakage, we only had a day left. I found a step ladder, wrench, and some tape and was about to try and close the valve when James found me.

“You left, Mia.”

“I didn’t go far.”

“I was worried about you. I thought I had scared you off.”

“There’s nothing I have seen from you that has been even remotely frightening to me.”

“I can’t control this thing.”

“It’s okay. I would say it’s normal.”

“Waking up with a walking stick between your legs is normal for a man? My husband never…”

“You were a working wife, James. You were up and making breakfast before your husband even got out of bed. Am I right?”

“We slept in different rooms. I wouldn’t even see him until the evening.”

“Did he buy you subscriptions to fashion magazines?”

James’ eyes narrowed. “Yes.”

“I would bet you would find some hidden in his room.”

“What are you saying?”

“Although men did not talk about it directly, they would often mention a particular magazine model. There is a very high likelihood they took care of themselves while viewing the magazines.”

“Did you?”

I blushed. “Regularly. I only had sex with Barbara once a month. It was a set schedule for us. I… had needs.”

“Seems like we are learning a lot about each other’s genders.”

“How often did you two…?”

“Every other week when we were first married. The last few years, I had months in between, but it got much worse as he would come home drunk and rape me. The last time was the night before the Great War. That’s when I told him he would never touch me again.”

“What about with Mia?”

“Weekly. Sometimes more than that.”

I felt hot flushes rush through my body. I could only imagine having sex with another woman, but I was fascinated about James and what that might be like, especially if he was tender and gentle.

“What are you doing, Mia.”

“I’m making an executive decision. With less water in the tank, there is less risk for me playing with things and less water pressure. We have no more than a day left before it is gone. If I can stop the flow through the leaking pipes, we would have several months of water. There is a risk it might break, or we will lose everything.”

“Months just buy us time for longer reconnaissance. We must do something. I trust you. If we lose the water, we move on.”

“Okay. Here goes nothing.” I hit the exit pipe below the valve with the wrench. As I suspected, the pipe broke clean through and lots of water fell to the floor. I then grabbed the power to the valve and pulled it off. Nothing happened. I hammered on the valve with the wrench, and it wouldn’t close. It was jammed open.

“I’m sorry, James. The valve is stuck open. We can find more containers to collect more water, but it will drain out by tomorrow.”

I stepped down from the ladder. I was crying. “I’m sorry I couldn’t fix it.”

“Hey. It’s all right, Mia. You did what you could. We lost nothing. I know it won’t be easy, but we can grab another pack, put more food and water in it and leave this place. First stop, my old home. I’m certain we can find some shelter there. We had our own bomb shelter and so did Mia, next door.”

“You’re sure?”

James wrapped his arms around me, and I sighed in relief.

“Absolutely. We need to leave this place behind.”

 

***

 

Our walk was uneventful even though we periodically saw some movement in the shadows of buildings. The further we got from downtown Necropolis, the less damage there was to the buildings. Signs of death and decay were still everywhere.

Our focus was to get to James’ home, so we didn’t explore any of the other homes. As we walked up to the house, we could see the windows were all shattered. James was quiet and I slipped my hand into his to offer what little comfort I could.

James tugged my hand, and we moved to the far side of the large home. He stopped short and stared with his mouth open. The outside metal doors of a bunker were rusting and open. There was a skeleton posed in a way as if crawling out. The clothes were all rotted away except for a couple tiny pieces.

James moved close and reached for the corpse’s left hand that was partially buried in the sand. He tugged on a gold ring that was barely visible. The hand fell apart, the finger bones trickling down the cement staircase.

“You piece of rotting garbage. I hope you suffered.”

“James… You don’t mean that. I can’t imagine what people on the surface must have gone through. He deserved death for what he did to you, but long and painful suffering?”

James grit his teeth but nodded. “You’re right, Mia. Let’s check the shelter.”

He kicked the skeleton aside and went down the cement stairs. The shelter was several stories below the surface. A sealed steel door was closed.

“The surface doors were mere coverings. Let’s get this door open.”

We turned a large handle and pulled. It took both of us to move it with the rusted hinges. We had just enough light from our Pip-Boy flashlights to see inside. It wasn’t large, the size of a bedroom. Two beds, a couch, a bathroom, and a small kitchen. Cans were littered on the floor.

“He was clearly here for a while. Let’s see if there is anything left in storage.”

James pulled open a door. All that was left was a handful of cans and a bottle of wine.

“I’m surprised he left the wine. He ran out of food and water and decided to see how far he could get.”

I moved to a desk. Several hand-scrawled notes were left. I read a couple, then swept them off the desk and onto the floor as James was coming back from the storage room.

“What was that?”

“What was what?’

“You tossed something onto the floor.”

“Just garbage.”

James stared at me and moved to grab the pages on the floor. I pulled his arm.

“Don’t, James.”

He grabbed my shoulders and walked me back until I had no choice but to sit on the bed. He turned back to the desk.

“James…”

He picked up the pages and read. His jaw tightened before he read a page out loud.

“Day 43. My only hope is that Jennifer doesn’t try to come back and steal my food. That wench deserves to be left out. Maybe radiation will make her more compliant. The only benefit to her coming would be I could use her before ending her wretched life.”

James turned to face me. It was the first time I saw him cry. “You tried to keep this from me. Why?”

“I knew it would hurt you. I’m starting to see why you wanted him to suffer.”

“Thank you. Although it might be safest for us to stay here, we should check the house and Mia’s place next door.”

I nodded and, on a whim, stood and hugged James. I took his hand and led him out of the shelter. With the windows all blasted out, it was easy to enter the house. Thick layers of dirt and dust lay everywhere. Cupboards were open and items scattered everywhere.

“This isn’t a pattern you would expect from a blast. I think it was done after the nuclear bombs.”

“It had to be done before, Mia. That filthy husband of mine likely ransacked the place before the blasts.”

“Assuming that was the case, then these items would be underneath the glass. This is all on top. It had to happen after the blast.”

“You think people survived?”

“Bombs would have been focused on population centers. What if people further out survived. The radiation might have killed them over time, but it’s possible they came to find provisions.”

James shrugged. “It doesn’t make sense. Let’s look through more of the house.”

James led me to a bedroom. He went to a closet that was open, and clothing had been scattered throughout the room. Holes in the ceiling had left everything exposed. There was nothing but bits of fabric and rusted metal left.

“This was my room.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, James.”

“I had few attachments to anything. This was not a home, Mia. It was a prison for me. A place I hid in fear every time the front door opened.”

I turned and went into a larger bedroom. The ceiling was intact, and the room was less deteriorated. I shook my head as I peeled back several layers of magazine pages that had been between the mattress that had rotted away and the bed frame.

“You weren’t wrong, Mia.”

The room suddenly filled with buzzing and a large flying bug hovered menacingly behind us. James jumped back, raised his shotgun, and fired. The bug exploded as James fell back onto the floor from the recoil.

“Woohoo! Got that one! This thing has a real kick.”

“Make sure you are stable when you shoot next time. Good shot though. That thing looked like a giant mosquito.”

“There’s nothing here.” James pumped the shotgun, and a smoking shell popped out of the chamber. “Let’s go to Mia’s.”

Mia’s house was not too far, just a few houses down from James’. It was in a similar state. I was more convinced that the house had been scavenged after the blast. James was not so sure. We headed outside to the fallout shelter. The rusted outside doors were pried open from the outside. The inner door was still sealed but it was clear someone had tried to get in.

“Are you still thinking this was all a result of the blast and no one was around? The explosion would not have pried up the shelter doors.”

“I don’t know, Mia. Wouldn’t we have seen people by now?”

“What if they all died slowly of radiation poisoning?”

“Mia’s shelter was much higher end than ours. This door requires a security code. She gave it to me hoping if anything happened, we could be together.”

I looked into James’ eyes. “She loved you.”

“We were only friends, Mia.”

I bit my lip from saying anything more. James spun four large brass dials with numbers on them before turning the large handle. The door opened easily with a whoosh of stale air. Lights flickered on.

We poked our heads inside. It was pristine and untouched. The shelter was much larger than James’ with a full kitchen, living room, bedroom, bath, an exercise area, and a very large storage room. There was even a fusion incinerator for garbage.

Only a small fraction of food cans had exploded. There was enough food for months. Water appeared to be pulled from a well and filtered.

On the walls were posters of Mia’s movies and there were many books on shelves. The closet contained lots of clothing and, while smelling musty, were in very good shape.

“Everything is untouched. Mia was selected with us, and I would guess her husband was working at the time. The seals preserved everything very well. This must be fusion-core powered.”

“Mia always had the very best.”

“That’s why she chose you.” The comment slipped out before I could shut my mouth.

“Why would you say such a thing, Mia? You don’t even know me. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

“You’re brave, thoughtful, and kind. For how you have been treated, you could have become a vengeful person. I’m very grateful you got James’ body, because anyone else, either having gone through what you have, or another man who knew no better, would have turned me into a plaything by now.”

“I could never hurt you like that, Mia. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, except maybe my husband.”

“Ex. Very ex-husband.”

“Looky what we got here, boys.”

We spun to face three men. They were filthy, wearing ragged clothing, missing teeth, and had feral looks about them. Their faces were hardened by the unforgiving landscape. Behind the leader was a huge man that was partially deformed. He could barely fit through the doorway.

“We’re rich, boys. And peek at that woman. I bet she is a vault-dweller. So clean and purdy. I take her first.”

James stepped in front of me. “You survived the Great War? How many survived?”

The leader chuckled. “Vault-dwellers are always so stupid. Listen, boy. Yer trespasin. This all belongs to us, includin the girl.” He leaned closer. “You got some nice teeth there. We’ll take those too after yer dead.”

A smaller man next to him inched forward. His eyes were staring at my breasts. "We don't take kindly to trespassers," he growled, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. "Although, we would make an exception for one as pretty as you, sweetheart."

James held up his hand. “We’re not looking for any trouble. We would greatly appreciate any information you can give us. We’ll share what we have.”

The leader spat onto the floor. “You’ll share all right. The girl, and everything is ours and you git nothin but teeth in yer gullet. She’s mighty fine. We’ll use her before sellin her. She’ll bring us a thousand caps fer sure.”

I shuddered. “Just let us go. You can have what’s here.”

The massive man grunted and pushed the leader aside. He pointed his grubby finger at me. “Mine.” The leader and the other man’s hands inched towards their crude but effective-looking weapons.

I exchanged a glance with James, a silent communication between us. We knew we had to act fast, before things escalated further. With surprising speed, James raised his shotgun, aiming it at the leader, while I took aim at the giant deformed man beside him. Before they could react, the room erupted in a cacophony of gunfire.

Bullets whizzed through the air, the deafening roar of the shots echoing off the shelter's walls. In the chaos, James and I fought with everything we had, each shot a prayer for survival.

The big man took five bullets in his chest and one in his head before he dropped and when the smoke cleared, the three ruffians lay sprawled on the ground. James and I were physically unharmed, our hearts pounding with adrenaline and relief.

I threw my arms around James, and he wrapped his around me tightly. As I shook in his arms, three things registered. I had just killed a man. There were survivors. I was acting like a frightened girl.

I looked back at the bloody mess. “They were going to kill us… right?”

James shook his head. “They would have killed me and raped you. It sounds like they were planning on selling you.”

I pulled away and started looking for anything useful on the bodies. From the leader’s pocket, I pulled out a handful of rusted bottle caps. I tossed them on a table. I slipped my hand into another pocket and pulled out half a dozen bullets, but these were unlike anything I had seen before.

“Are those…”

I tossed them on the floor and wiped my hand. “Bullets with teeth instead of lead. That’s hideous.”

I found some strange things in one of the bags at their hips. Rad-away and something called a stimpak.

“Let’s get them out of here, Mia. We can move them to my old bunker.”

It took both of us to move the big guy. The other two were easy enough. It was dusk by the time we settled back into the shelter and locked ourselves inside. We sat down and stared at the bloody stains on the floor.

“I don’t understand it, James. Why did we need to kill them?”

“They were clearly desperate. The big guy was likely deformed from radiation. Missing teeth could also be from radiation sickness, unless they used their own teeth to make bullets.”

“It’s hard to believe people survived the Great War. That explains what we saw in your house. People had looted it for anything of value. And there is obviously more of them if they were planning on selling me.”

James pulled me against him. “I would never have let that happen, Mia.” His hand moved to my hair, then he cupped my face and tipped his head down and kissed me.

I was surprised and elated, shocked and dismayed. I pushed back slightly. “James…”

“I’m sorry.”

“No… It’s me. I don’t know what I feel at the moment. And Barbara… I need to know what happened to her.” I looked down at myself. “I know she is dead and even if she wasn’t, she would never want me as I am.”

“It’s all right. I understand.”

“I’m going to get cleaned up and go to bed. I’m not hungry for dinner.”

“I’ll sleep out here.”

“No. Please stay with me in the bed. You must think me strange, a man who is now a woman, acting like a little girl. I just… I want you close. You make me feel safe.”

James smiled. “You’re a much better shot than me. I think I’m the one that feels safe around you. I know you were Charles. It doesn’t bother me at all. You look like Mia. You act like Mia. But you aren’t Mia. You are so much more than she ever was. You’re smart and resourceful.

“I saw the look in your eyes when those men said the things they did, Mia. I saw the fear and recognized it as the same fear I had when I was Jennifer, and my husband came home drunk. There are times I struggle with the new me and I know you are struggling as well, but I am a man now. I can’t do anything about it. I must learn to be a man. Just as you need to accept and learn to be a woman.”

I nodded. “And do that at the same time as coping with mutated bugs, crazed people that survived the war, and the fact we killed three people. When I went to the gun club, the targets were often pictures of communist silhouettes. We all laughed and bragged about shooting pieces of paper. A bunch of useless men feeling superior at killing a piece of paper. Our arrogance was only matched by our utter lack of intelligence.”

“It’s a lot to process. Those same men probably went home to beat and rape their wives.”

“I never did that.”

“Barbara was a lucky woman to have you. I did not meet a woman that had not been raped by her husband.”

I shuddered at the thought of being powerless while some man savagely took me. “Maybe it was a good thing the war happened. We were wretched people not worth saving.”

I turned and headed to the bathroom. I had a lengthy shower and found a nightgown of Mia’s before sliding into bed. James showered and snuggled up to me. I pulled his arm tight against my chest. We fell asleep that way.

 

***

 

The next morning, we carefully left the bunker, making sure it was properly locked before we headed in the general direction of my house. We kept our weapons ready even though we didn’t see signs of life or more people.

About halfway to my house, we spotted a grocery store and decided to check it out. It was clearly ransacked, and we found numerous bodies. Some likely died from the blast, others looked to have been in a fight.

We continued towards my house.

“The death and destruction are overwhelming, James.”

“It’s hard to believe, even harder that somehow, we thought as a human race war was a good thing. It’s been four days now. How are you holding up?”

I glanced at James. “When I don’t think about it, I feel surprisingly comfortable as a woman. If we had fresh air, water, and food, I think I could survive very well, especially with you around.”

James stopped walking to stare at me. “I sense you are a very good person, Mia. I wonder if every man had to live as a woman if this would be the outcome, but I think there is more to it with you. You cared for Barbara in a way I have not seen in other men. I think I could survive very well with you at my side. You’re a good homemaker.”

I slugged him on the arm. “Men!”

We both laughed. It was good to have fun amid the seriousness of our predicament. We stayed upbeat until we got closer to my home. Every destroyed house was a reminder of my neighbors and my life.

“Barbara and I were quite social, having parties every other weekend. Looking back, it was all a façade. We wanted to impress on others our success. I never really had any good friends.”

“Your life was not much different than mine, Mia. We were invited to parties every week or held them ourselves. Life was grand and carefree. We hid our pain and isolation well.”

I glanced away from James and paused. It took a moment to register that what was left of the house before me had been mine.

“Is that your place, Mia?”

I nodded.

James stepped forward and stopped by the edge of the cracked empty shell of the inground pool. He stared out at the devastation of what was left of Necropolis. “Nice view.”

I stared out over the bleak landscape. The valley and city, once lush and green and sparkling with modern glass and steel skyscrapers, had been turned into a brown, dead, dustbowl with bits of steel sticking up into the sky.

I stepped up next to James and felt his hand slide into mine. I nodded. “I would say it adds to the resale value.” I let go of his hand and turned to stare at what remained of the living room.

I stepped over the dirt, decay, and broken glass and ran my fingers over the laminated countertop that separated the living room from the kitchen. A stool I had sat on the morning I was selected was all rusted, bent, and had been thrown partway into the cabinetry near my feet.

As if awakening from sleep, I looked up. James was standing in the hallway peering into rooms on either side. I knew what he was looking for, but I was too afraid to look myself.

“I don’t see anything, Mia. No sign that anyone was here when the bombs went off. It’s safe if you want to look around.”

My gaze drifted from James into the remnants of the kitchen. I absentmindedly wiped a tear falling down my cheek.

“We were hoping to be given spots in one of the Vault-Tec vaults. I barely made enough to cover the expenses of living here and make us look successful. I could never afford our own vault even though all our neighbors had them. Barbara insisted we would be better off in a community vault with more resources.”

“Which room was Barbara’s?”

“On the left, facing Necropolis.”

“Come take a look at this, Mia.”

“Did… did you find…?”

“She’s not in here, Mia. It’s okay.”

It was surreal. It felt like I had only just been there. Everything had been clean, fresh, and modern. Now, the home was in ruins. I stepped into Barbara’s room as James pulled a steel box from under the collapsed frame of the bed.

“What is that?” I asked.

“I caught a glint of it. Looks like there was a hollow space under the floorboards. It’s locked.”

James put the box on the remains of a dresser. “I’m confused. We never had a hidden space. The lock looks simple enough.”

I moved through the house towards the kitchen sink. The cabinet door fell away easily as I tugged on it. A rusty toolbox was still there where I had left it nearly two hundred years before. I grabbed a screwdriver and went back to Barbara’s bedroom. I jammed the screwdriver tip into the lock and twisted hard. The lock metal snapped, and James pried the lid open.

I pulled a letter from the top of a small pile of correspondence.

‘October 16, 2077

Dear Mrs. Barbara Miller,

Per our agreement, Charles will be selected. I don’t see why you forced me into this position, removing someone far more capable just to put your husband on the list. You are the key to our success and time is running out. It feels like blackmail to me, but it is a small price to pay to secure our future and have you by my side.

Remember to be packed and ready to go on October 23. The world is about to change forever.

Winston Gentry

RobCo’

I stared at the letter and reread it several times. I rifled through the other correspondence that talked about cloning and brain transfers. The last letter was as confusing as the first.

‘September 3, 2072

Dear Mrs. Barbara Miller,

We have reviewed your resume and credentials and find them very impressive. Your work in accelerated cloning could pave the way for an immortal future for us all. We are extending an offer for you to join our prestigious collective as a member of our executive team.

Together, we will pave the way to a bright new future. The Enclave awaits you.

Winston Gentry

RobCo’

I frowned. “I don’t understand. None of this makes sense. Barbara was not on any executive team. She was not a scientist. How did she know Winston Gentry? It sounds like they knew… That Barbara was the one that got me selected… That Barbara…”

James took the letter from my hands and sat me on the crumbling bed frame. “Breathe, Mia.”

“She…”

“Did you really know Barbara?”

I looked up to meet James’ eyes. “Of course, I did.”

“That’s not what I was asking. Did you really know her? Winston was the man that greeted us at RobCo. He knew your wife. What did she do while you worked?”

“Nothing! She cleaned the house and made dinner!”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes!”

James frowned. “When you went to work, how long did you work during the day?”

“Usually, twelve hours a day for six days a week. You think Barbara led a secret life as what? A biologist?”

“I don’t mean to make light of this, Mia, but how would you know?”

“It doesn’t make sense, James!”

“Mia, there are no clothes in the closet or drawers. No sign that Barbara was caught here when the bombs went off.”

“Let’s just go back to Mia’s shelter.”

James was about to say something but remained silent as I stood and pushed past him. I glanced at Barbara’s closet to find it empty. Not even the clothes hangers were left. Nothing on the floor with the rest of the debris. Silently I moved to my bedroom. My closet doors had been ripped off the hinges and my rotting clothes were strewn everywhere as if a tornado had hit the room. Rotting suitcases for when we travelled were there, but there had been none in Barbara’s room.

I knew James was behind me as I leaned down and picked up a small trophy. Using my thumb, I brushed off the dirty metal plate to find the name Charles Miller, 2077 handgun and rifle champion, second place. A wave of anger filled me, and I threw it against the wall, breaking the figurine of a man holding a rifle from the wooden trophy stand.

“Mia…”

I held up my hand. “Not now. Let’s get back.”

 

***

 

I didn’t say a word as we walked back to Mia’s shelter. Once sealed back inside, I showered and changed into one of Mia’s dresses before sitting down at the table. James pushed a plate of food towards me.

“Please don’t shut me out, Mia.”

“I feel like I’m dreaming and when I wake up this new reality will just vanish. Barbara wasn’t a scientist. She wasn’t an executive.”

“Did you notice how calm Winston was when he told us about the bombs?” When I didn’t say anything, James continued. “He didn’t have the look of a man that knew he was about to die, and he never joined us on the platform.”

I took a bite of the food and placed my fork back down. “Let’s assume I never knew my own wife and she was a secret scientist preparing for the end of the world. The first letter… It said remember to be packed and ready to go on October 23. Is it a coincidence? How would they know something was going to happen?”

“What if the government knew it was going to happen in advance?”

I pushed my plate away. “You’re suggesting they knew or were a part of the destruction of the world killing millions of people. I can’t believe Barbara would be connected to something like that.”

“The letter suggested she was the one to get you selected. Maybe that was her way of protecting…”

“No! Clearly, I didn’t even know my wife. Why would she go out of her way to make sure I was safe? You know what? It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. Two hundred years have passed. We are living in a post nuclear war world with giant mutated bugs and inbred radiated people. I’ve been turned into a woman with enhanced sexual desire and smooth legs to repopulate the world. It’s just too much, James. It’s too much to process.”

I stood and moved to the storage room. I dug around until I found a bottle of dyrehycyne. I tore the top off and tipped it up towards my mouth. James knocked it out of my hand and the bottle shattered against the wall.

I turned my anger on him and hit him. He just stood there letting me take out all my frustration on him. As my anger depleted, he wrapped me in his arms, and I struggled weakly against him. He brought us to the bed and plopped us both down on it. He held me there until I stopped struggling and fell asleep.

 

***

 

When I woke, I was alone in bed. I found James at the table. He had a black eye and a bruised lip. I swallowed. I didn’t mean to hurt him.

“I’m sorry, James.”

James looked up. I didn’t know what he was thinking. He looked sad, broken, and lost. “It’s okay, Mia.”

“No. It’s not. I’m sorry I hurt you. Sorry I hit you.” I reached out to touch his cheek and he pulled back. I started to cry. Seeing him hurt because of me broke something inside of me. I turned away from him.

I felt his hands on my shoulders gently turning me towards him. I laid my head on his shoulder as he pulled me into a hug.

“Thank you for stopping me, James.” I sniffed. “I… I was being selfish.”

He held me tight without speaking for several minutes. He pulled back slightly and lifted my chin, so I looked into his eyes. His hands cupped my face, and he leaned in and kissed me. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him back. I let my thumb trace his swollen cheekbone as I kissed him again and again whispering that I was sorry in between each kiss.

When we stepped apart, I was worried. I had gone from being standoffish, to wanting to kill myself, to throwing myself into his arms.

“What just happened, Mia?”

“I’m pretty certain you just kissed me.”

“I kissed you before, but this was the first time you kissed me back. The situation is bad enough as it is. I can’t deal with the added turmoil of something more significant between us if one second you are trying to kill yourself, the next pulling away, and now suddenly making me feel like you have feelings for me.”

I paced a bit, avoiding the dried blood stains on the floor before sitting down on the couch. “It’s a lot to process, isn’t it? Last night, I just lost it. It was all too much. Barbara. The letters. Feeling vulnerable as a woman…”

“I get that, Mia. If it isn’t bad enough to wake up after a two-century sleep to find the world destroyed, we discover the bitterness and betrayal of those we used to live with. Let’s set that all aside for a moment and focus on us.”

I met his eyes with my gaze. “You want us to forget that there are post-apocalyptic mosquitos that can suck the life out of you and survivors that have guns loaded with teeth?”

“I do, because, like you, if I include everything else, I can’t focus on how I feel. Let me start by saying I feel better about myself than I have for my entire life. I was a frightened woman almost every day of my life. I feel safe and strong as James and surprisingly comfortable. How are you feeling?”

“If I admit to you that while I feel more intimidated being Mia but that I enjoy being a woman even more than being a man, will you think less of me?”

“No. Why would you imagine I would think less of you?”

“Because I was a man before. I was part of the despised half of the human population. I was a man, now a woman and I am acting emotional, frightened, and…”

“And what, Mia?”

“Feminine.”

James chuckled. “Mia, you are an extremely attractive woman. You move like Mia did, even down to her subtle characteristics. I want to tell you a secret. Even though I was frightened of being abused, I loved being feminine. I think women were designed that way. As a woman I felt sensual and desired to look good.

“As a surgeon, I know a lot about human anatomy and behaviors. It’s entirely possible that to insert our brains, that something was done to properly align the brain to the new body. What I am suggesting, is there should be no way a male brain could be placed into a female body without that body dying unless some kind of integration was done. I don’t see you behaving as a man in a woman’s body, I see a woman when I look at you.”

“You’re not repulsed by me?”

“God no, Mia! I was highly attracted to the old Mia because of her beauty, but I struggled with her lack of intelligence or wit. To me, you are perfect, which is why I am very attracted to you. You kissed me back, Mia. I hope you feel the same way about me.”

“I am attracted to you, James. For days I kept believing it was because of this clone body they supercharged with desires. I feel safe around you. I love it when I wake up with your arms around me.”

“I’m going to say this, Mia, because it is important to know if you reciprocate my feelings. I am in love with you.”

I nodded slowly. “I’m in love with you, James. I just realized it this morning.”

James sat down and I was suddenly shy. He took the initiative and kissed me. I kissed him back.

“We need to establish something, Mia. No matter how bad it gets, we are here for each other. I can’t have you trying to kill yourself. Seeing you with that bottle last night scared me to death that I finally found the perfect woman and she was about to leave me.”

“It won’t happen again. We’re in this together now and I was only thinking of myself.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. What would you like to do today?”

James’ fingers had been playing with my hair and his closeness was intoxicating. I bit my lower lip.

“You know… when you buy a new car, you test drive it, right? I’ve not… and you sort of…”

“Speak no more.” James grabbed me and carried me into the bedroom. He laid me on the bed and began to kiss me.

My breathing became ragged as we pressed against each other. “Gently…” Was all I could whisper.

 

***

 

I smiled as I drank my tea with our breakfast.

“I think I know what you are smiling about, Mia, but for the record, why are you smiling?”

“I think I will buy the car after my test drive. My God… women do have libidos… and orgasms… multiple orgasms.”

We had spent the entire day making love, interspersed with eating, showering, and making love until we finally slept through the night. It had been glorious, wondrous, amazing, and oh so satisfying.

James’ smile was infectious. “Who knew?”

“You did, obviously. That whole thing you did with your tongue… You could hold courses to teach men how to please a woman.”

“I had practice, and I know how Mia’s body responded.”

“It makes me jealous thinking about you with Mia Taylor.”

“James Smith has only made love to you, Mia. Nothing to be jealous of. What are our plans for the day?”

“As nice as it would be to have another day like yesterday, I think we need to continue exploring. South towards Los Angeles makes the most sense. Just a day trip so we are back here by nightfall.”

“I’ll get the packs ready.”

 

***

 

We took our time as we headed south, exploring the nearby homes and buildings for anything useful. By the time we reached the point we should turn around we had already encountered several large bugs and a hideous, savage, mutated dog. We became more adept at recognizing the creatures, where they hid in wait, and how to quickly dispatch them.

James was bragging about how he saved me from the leaping dog and what a good man and protector he was, I had paused and raise my rifle taking aim at a lone woman walking next to a heavily burdened two-headed cow.

James finally noticed the woman and pulled his shotgun out as the woman stopped a hundred yards from us. She raised her hands.

“Hey there, need anything? Mind lowering your weapons?”

I took the lead as James kept an eye out all around us in case it was a trap.

“Who are you? Are there others around?”

“I’m a trader and these lands and all merchants within are under the protection of the Minutemen. If you’re going to shoot me, just get it over with.”

I lowered my rifle a little. “Forgive us, but you are only the fourth person we have met, and the other three were not at all friendly.”

“Raiders, most likely. Listen. I’m a simple merchant. I have weapons, ammo, food, and supplies. I wouldn’t be a good merchant if I attacked my customers now, would I?”

I lowered my rifle completely. “We’re new here. Could you give us some information?”

“Pretty easy to figure that out. You’re all shiny and new like. Fresh from a vault?”

“Sort of. Are there others like us?”

“Down south and west a bit there is a small town named Adytum on the outskirts of Los Angeles. There are quite a few dwellers there.”

James stayed ready as we walked closer to the lady. “How many people survived the Great War?”

“Enough to make life miserable.” The woman narrowed her eyes at me. “Do I know you?”

I shook my head. “I’m Mia. This is James. We recently left a vault, but our vault was different. We were put in stasis just hours before the bombs hit. The systems woke us up a week ago. We were the only survivors.”

“Mia… Mia Taylor. The actress!”

“What… How do you know that name?”

“Some old movies survived. I’ve seen a couple in the Hub. Five caps will let you in. You’re famous and far better looking than in the movies. You were asleep for how long?”

“Since the start of the Great War.”

“From the glory days when all this was not in ruins?”

“It has been a bit of a shock. The men we ran into. Raiders, you called them?”

“Lots of them around. I’ve been told that for many years survivors killed each other to survive. Some raiders formed groups to take what they could from other survivors. Nasty folk, they are. I got to get moving unless you need something. I got stimpacks, RadAway, ammo, even some Jet if you don’t tell anyone where you got it.”

James frowned. “Jet? That’s an addictive drug.”

The woman shrugged. “And?”

I jumped in. “The stimpacks. What are they for?”

“Rapid healing of any injury. For being from before the Great War, I thought you all would be smarter. Before you ask, RadAway removes radiation. Forty caps for each.”

“What’s a cap?”

“Bottle caps, silly. That’s our currency.”

James dug into his pocket. “What can you give us for a gold ring?”

“I’ll give you two RadAways and a stimpack for the ring.”

Before I could argue, James handed her the ring.

“Done.”

As the woman handed James the three items, I asked her more questions.

“You said there was a town of vault dwellers? Adytum?”

“Yes. Just follow the road south for three days, then veer west. I would stay out of Los Angeles if I were you. That’s Raider territory.”

“You said you were protected by the Minutemen?”

“They have a base a day south of here. As long as you abide by their rules, they protect the area and those within it. I must get going. The people in the Hub will love you.”

The woman turned to leave but James stopped her.

“One more question, please? What is the Hub and where is it?”

“Southeast of Los Angeles about a day’s walk from there. It’s the main trading town in the area. Run by a ghoul.”

“What’s a ghoul?”

The woman started walking. “Very dangerous. Very hard to kill. Ghouls were closest to the blasts when the bombs fell. Radiation didn’t kill them for some reason. They mutated. Barely human, but stronger, faster, and without drugs will revert into hideous monsters. Shoot them in the head, but it is best to take their heads clean off. Nasty creatures. They like Super Duper Marts.”

“Wait!” I yelled after her, but the woman just kept walking.

James touched my arm. “We should head back, Mia.”

I stared after the woman with the two-headed cow heading east amongst the lifeless, barren landscape. I shook my head. Could this world be any crazier?

 

***

 

We made it back with only a few bug incidents, relying on our machetes since it appeared that ammo would be hard to find. After we returned to Mia’s shelter, I showered and put on one of her dresses. I stepped back into the main living area as James put some food on the table.

“You look beautiful, Mia.”

“Mia had great taste in clothing. Isn’t it my job to cook us dinner?”

“I had to keep my mind occupied with something. It was too tempting to join you in the shower.”

“You should have.”

James grinned. “I was hoping for an invite.”

“We could be a trend-setting couple if we made love more than once a month.” I sat down on his lap, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him.

James’ hand slid up under my dress. “What happened to women having no libido?”

“I can’t speak for other women, but my libido is exceptional when I am around you.”

A plate of beans and pre-war pork sat between two tin cups. I picked up a fork and speared a piece of the pork from the plate. “You’re letting the beans get cold,” I teased, holding the fork to his mouth.

He took the bite without complaint, then pressed his lips to my neck, just below my ear. “Better cold beans with you here than hot anything without you,” he murmured.

I rolled my eyes, but the way his breath grazed my skin still made something flutter low in my stomach.

We ate like that for a while, easy, quiet, sharing bites from the plate, his hand sometimes trailing along my thigh, sometimes settling firmly at my waist. The kisses came in between, lazy and unhurried at first, but deeper whenever I lingered too long.

It was a strange kind of comfort, sitting there with him. The world outside might have been dead, but here in the vault it felt… alive.

At last, when the plate was clean and the cups nearly empty, I leaned back a little, studying his face. The humor in his eyes had softened into something serious.

“We can stay here,” I said quietly, almost to myself. “For a while. The vault’s got water. Food enough if we ration.”

James’s thumb traced a circle over my knee. “We could. But you know as well as I do, Mia… this isn’t really living. Hiding in a hole.”

“I know,” I admitted, resting my forehead against his.

“We need to know what’s out there. Who’s out there,” he said. “If we’re going to make it, really make it, we’ve got to learn how to survive out there and learn where we can get food.”

I thought of the trader, of the glint in her eyes when she spoke of the Minutemen, of Adytum. A place where other vault dwellers had clawed their way back to some semblance of a life.

“Three days,” I said.

His eyebrows rose. “We would need to travel quickly. Take packs with enough supplies for a week. If we don’t find anything in three days, we come back.”

“Three days south and west. We reach Adytum, see what’s what. If it’s good… we stay for a while. If not, we come back here and figure something else out.”

James nodded slowly, his hands tightening just slightly on my hips. “And we seal the vault before we go. Keep our little home waiting for us. Just in case.”

“Just in case, but just to be clear, my home is wherever you are James Smith,” I echoed.

For a few moments, we sat there without speaking, the silence filled only by the faint hum of the vault’s lights. Then James tilted his head and kissed me again, soft at first, then longer, lingering, his fingers weaving into my hair.

 

***

 

The vault door groaned shut behind us, sealing our little haven with a shudder that vibrated through the soles of my boots. The sound echoed in my chest like a warning.

We set off at a brisk pace, southward, backpacks tight on our shoulders, boots crunching over the cracked earth. Neither of us spoke much. The rhythm of our steps was enough.

We did not bother combing the ruins this time. There would be nothing worth finding, just dust and ghosts and old regrets. We had supplies for a week and nothing to waste them on but distance.

By the time we reached the place where we had met the trader, the sun was beginning to tilt west, the sky shifting from that harsh white glare to something softer, almost copper-colored. We slowed then, instinctively, letting ourselves take in more of the landscape.

The road we walked on became clearer to me as we went, an old highway, its edges broken and blurred where sand and weeds had crept in. The yellow lines were faint but still there, like the memory of a better world refusing to fade.

We passed rusting vehicles that sat at odd angles, their doors half-hinged, tires melted down to the rims. Here and there a building leaned sideways, half-collapsed, windows gaping like empty eyes.

The signs of war were everywhere. Every crack, every ruin screamed it.

By the time evening crept in, the air cooling slightly, shadows stretching long, my legs ached with that good kind of pain, the kind that says you’ve survived another day. James glanced at me as we walked and jerked his chin toward a dark shape ahead.

“Looks defendable,” he murmured.

I nodded. “Better than sleeping out in the open.”

It was an old office building, two stories of shattered glass and crumbling brick. We moved carefully, my pistol drawn, James’ shotgun ready. The silence inside was thick and heavy.

Each room was darker than the last, the light bleeding away too fast now, until the only glow came from the last shards of sunset seeping through broken windows.

James found a corner room that still had most of its walls intact. “Here,” he said, lowering his pack and stretching his arms.

I had just started to set down my own pack when I heard it, a low, wet rasp from deeper in the building.

We both froze.

Then it came again. Closer this time.

A shape lunged from the shadows, all sinew and bone and shriveled flesh, its eyes burning yellow in the gloom. The smell hit me a second later, a wave of rot and ash.

My gun was already in my hand when it slammed into me, claws raking my arm, teeth snapping inches from my throat.

I fired once, twice, the shots echoing, deafening, but the ghoul barely slowed.

“Shit!” James barked, firing wildly, his shotgun blast punching through its chest, but it kept coming, arms flailing.

It slammed me into the wall, my shoulder protesting sharply, and I gritted my teeth, jamming the barrel under its chin and firing again. The head half exploded.

Still, it clawed at me, fingers digging into my clothing, snarling like an animal.

Then… movement at the doorway.

Steel flashed in the fading light, and the ghoul’s head came clean off with a sickening sound, rolling across the floor.

The body crumpled at my feet, twitching.

I stumbled back, chest heaving, and finally looked up.

Three figures stood there wearing dusty long coats and hats shadowing their faces. One held a saber slick with black blood, its tip still dripping.

For a moment, none of us spoke.

Then the one with the saber tilted his head slightly, voice flat but edged with something sharp.

“You’re lucky we came along,” he said.

I kept my gun up anyway.

The man with the saber knelt, wiping the blade on the ghoul’s filthy rags, black ichor streaking the steel. He slid it back into its sheath without taking his eyes off me.

“Put down your guns,” he said evenly. “Or we won’t hesitate to kill you. That’s the most justice you’ll get out here. We’re the Minutemen and you two must be plenty stupid to walk into a building at night.”

I looked at James. His eyes darted from the saber to me, then back again. Slowly, he lowered his shotgun.

I followed suit, my hands trembling as the weapon slipped from my fingers. Fingers that were bloody. My Pip-Boy beeped with a warning, and I glanced at it. A radiation symbol flashed.

Only then did the adrenaline bleed out of me, leaving nothing but pain in its wake, a fire running up my torn arm, the smell of blood and powder thick in my nose. My knees buckled.

I barely felt myself hit the floor.

Darkness swallowed everything.

 

***

 

Voices came before sight.

“Will she be all right?” That was James, his voice close, tight with worry.

Another voice, gruffer but calm. “She should be dead. But she’s healing right up. Ghouls carry enough radiation to cook most folks inside-out. Lucky she’s… whatever she is. The Rad-Away and stimpak seem to have done the trick.”

My eyes fluttered open to the glow of a lantern overhead, the scent of woodsmoke and antiseptic hanging in the air.

“Hey,” I croaked, my voice rough.

James’s face snapped into focus, leaning over me, his eyes wide with relief. “Mia… you’re awake. Don’t move too quickly.”

But of course, I tried anyway, pushing myself up with a groan. My body felt heavy, but the pain was fading, dull now, like a bad memory. My clothing was torn and stained, but the bleeding had stopped.

“Where… where are we?” I managed, glancing around.

We were in a long wooden hall, lit by lanterns strung along the walls. The floors were swept clean, a few bunks lined the sides. Minutemen moved about in the background, men and women in dust-streaked coats, rifles slung over their shoulders, casting us wary looks.

James was already at my side, his hands steadying me as I sat up. “I carried you here,” he said, quiet. “To the Minutemen base. You’re safe now.”

A third voice cut in, cool and skeptical.

“That’s yet to be determined,” said the man with the saber, stepping into view. His hat shadowed his eyes, but I could feel them on me, measuring, suspicious.

I drew in a slow breath, feeling their gazes. My fingers itched to reach for my gun, but it was gone, and I was too weak anyway.

James pressed a tin cup into my hands. Water. It was lukewarm, metallic, but it felt like life sliding down my throat. I drank deep and let my breath steady while the man with the saber finally stepped closer.

“I’m Wyatt,” he said, slipping his hat back on his head and letting the lantern catch the faint scars on his jaw. “Sheriff of the Minutemen in these parts. By the looks of you both… you’re fresh from the vaults.”

His eyes moved between us, sharp and unblinking.

“What are your names,” he said, “and where are you from?”

I set the cup down, straightened a little. My hands still trembled, but I managed to meet his gaze.

“I’m Mia,” I said. My voice sounded stronger than I felt. “And this is James. You’re right… we’re fresh from the vaults. October twenty-third, 2077, we entered the RobCo vault in downtown Necropolis.”

For half a beat, his face stayed neutral. Then Wyatt barked out a short, incredulous laugh, and in the same motion drew his pistol and leveled it at us.

“You wanna try again?” he asked, his voice flat now. “Because if that’s the best story you’ve got, you’re gonna find your stay here real short.”

The barrel glinted as it hovered at chest height, and my breath caught before I could speak.

James moved first, stepping between me and the gun like it was nothing, his hands slightly raised.

“It’s true,” he said quickly. “I know there were other vaults, generations of people underground… I’ve heard of them. But this vault was different. Special. RobCo hand-picked us. Put us in suspended animation, kept us on ice. When the radiation finally dropped low enough, the system woke us up. That was…” He glanced at me. “About a week ago. We… we were the only two that made it out alive. The rest were already dead when we woke.”

I could see the sheriff’s eyes narrow just slightly, the pistol steady.

“You’re saying you’re from before the war?” he said at last, voice low.

James nodded. “Yes. Sir.”

Wyatt tilted his head, studying us, studying me.

“Hmph. Vault folk,” he muttered. “All the others we’ve seen… they’ve been down there generations, never seen daylight till they crawl out scared and half-starved. But you two…”

He trailed off, his eyes locking on mine.

“Mia,” he repeated softly. His gaze sharpened. He took a slow step closer, the gun still in his hand but no longer quite aimed. “Mia… Taylor? The actress?”

I hesitated but then nodded.

His eyes widened just slightly before his expression cracked, and he threw his head back and laughed, a rough, barking sound that filled the hall.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he chuckled, lowering his gun completely. “We’ve got ourselves a famous person, boys and girls!”

Around the room, a few of the Minutemen turned their heads, curious murmurs starting to ripple through them.

James shot me a look over his shoulder, his lips twitching into a faint smile.

Wyatt holstered his gun and gave me a crooked grin. “Don’t worry, Miss Taylor. We don’t get many famous people around here. I’ll tell you what. You share some stories about before the war, and I will give back your gear and see you on your way.”

“That would be very kind of you,” I said.

 

***

 

We sat in a rough circle on crates and chairs around a low fire, five Minutemen leaning in with curiosity etched on their faces. Their coats hung open, rifles resting casually across their knees, but their eyes kept drifting back to me, some amused, some calculating.

James sat close enough that his knee touched mine, his arm draped along the back of my chair like a quiet promise.

“So,” one of them, a wiry man named Briggs, began, grinning, “what was it really like? Before the bombs fell?”

I smiled faintly, the flames throwing shadows across my torn dress. “It was…” I faltered. “Quiet. Orderly. You could walk into a store and buy anything you need. Clothes, meat, cigarettes, all clean and wrapped. Even water came straight out of the tap. Cold or hot. No filters, no barrels.”

They all let out low whistles, shaking their heads like I had just described heaven.

“Water from a tap,” another muttered. “Don’t that beat all.”

“And you drove around in… cars?” asked a younger Minuteman, his eyes wide.

“Yes, I…” I stopped abruptly, feeling my cheeks warm. Damn it. Charles had driven. Not Mia.

I forced a small laugh and corrected myself. “I was… driven. Women didn’t really… drive. Not back then.”

They laughed good-naturedly, but one of them caught my hesitation and raised an eyebrow.

Briggs leaned forward, his grin growing sharper. “We all know what women are good for. We’ve all seen your films, you know. Well, some of ’em anyway. The Homemaker. That kiss with Tony Hudson…” His voice dropped into something more suggestive. “Any chance you’d reenact that scene… with me?”

The group snickered.

I froze, my stomach twisting.

Before I could find the words, James leaned forward, his voice cutting through the laughter.

“She was the best actress of her time,” he said firmly. “That’s why RobCo chose her. Not just anyone got picked for our vault. She’s more than a damn movie scene.”

The humor in the room softened, but the air stayed thick.

I forced my shoulders back. “What about you? Tell me what it’s like now. What do we have to look forward to?”

That finally got them talking.

Briggs jabbed his thumb southward. “Adytum’s your best bet. Two days’ walk, southwest. Old settlement, Vault folk mostly. They’ll take you in if you prove useful. Gotta watch for ghouls, though. And frogs.”

James frowned. “Frogs?”

The men chuckled.

“Oh yeah,” another said. “Mutated bastards. Big as a Brahmin, mouths wide enough to swallow a man whole. Stay clear of wetlands.”

“And raiders,” Briggs added. “Always raiders. You two still smell clean. Look too damn pristine. You’re targets till you dirty up some.”

I nodded slowly, filing it all away. But one of them, a stocky man with a crooked nose, kept staring at me, his grin turning mean.

“You,” he said at last, pointing with his chin. “You and me should have a tumble. Pretty thing like you’s wasted on just one man.”

I stiffened at the suggestion, my breath catching, but before I could speak James was already on his feet, his jaw tight.

“Back off,” he growled.

The man sneered, drawing his pistol and leveling it at James. “She’s fair game,” he said flatly. “And you’ve got no weapons. So, sit down and shut up. Come along, darling.”

The room went cold.

Wyatt’s boots scraped against the floor. “That’s enough,” he said, his tone quiet but dangerous.

The man snorted. “You gonna stop me, Sheriff? Huh? Why waste a prize like her on this vault-boy when she could…”

He never finished the sentence.

Wyatt moved like lightning, his saber flashing in the firelight. There was a sickening sound, a sharp gasp from someone, and then the man collapsed sideways, eyes blank, a dark stain already pooling beneath him.

Wyatt wiped the blade on the man’s coat, sheathed it, and shrugged.

“Minutemen are law-abiding,” he said simply.

The rest of the room stayed silent, eyes downcast.

I stared at the body, my stomach tight, then lifted my gaze to Wyatt. He met my eyes evenly and gave a single, almost imperceptible nod, like he was daring me to object.

I swallowed hard and said nothing.

The fire crackled on, but this world was anything but lawful.

 

***

 

We left the Minutemen at first light, the horizon already shimmering with heat. Their camp faded behind us with every step, until it was nothing but a dark smudge in the dust.

As soon as the sound of their boots and voices fell away completely, I let out a long sigh, the tension draining from my shoulders.

“This place is so…” I started searching for the word.

“Horrible,” James finished for me, his mouth curling into a wry half-smile.

I laughed softly despite myself, shaking my head.

“Yes,” I said. “Horrible.”

“But,” he added, glancing at me sideways as we walked, “we learned a lot. And I have no doubt we’ll be able to survive better now.”

I studied his profile, the ease in his stride, the way the morning sun caught in his hair, and wished I could borrow his certainty.

“Let’s hope the vault dwellers are a little more sane than those Minutemen,” I murmured.

For a while after that, we walked in silence, the only sound our boots crunching over the old highway. The cracked asphalt stretched ahead like a scar through the wasteland, and the ruins of the world loomed quiet and watchful on either side.

Eventually, I said, almost to myself, “Maybe it would be best to go back to Mia’s vault. We could figure out a way to survive there. Maybe grow something. Build something. We wouldn’t have to rely on anyone else.”

James stopped.

I felt his hand close gently around my shoulder, turning me to face him.

He didn’t speak right away, just stared at me with that unflinching steadiness of his, his thumbs brushing lightly along my arms.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but certain.

“If there really is a city of vault dwellers,” he said, “then there has to be a source of food. My fear is…” he hesitated, his eyes searching mine. “…if it’s just the two of us, anything we grow, anything we build the raiders would take it. Burn it. Kill us just to see if they can.”

I swallowed hard, feeling the truth of his words settle over me like dust.

He squeezed my shoulders lightly, leaning closer.

“We might find,” he said softly, “that we need people. For protection. For more than that. We owe it to ourselves to see if there’s still some semblance of civilization out here. Before we go crawling back into a hole.”

I held his gaze, the determination there hard enough to steady me.

I took a breath.

“Okay,” I said at last.

The faintest smile touched his lips, and he gave my shoulders one last reassuring squeeze before letting go.

We turned back to the road, walking southwest into the empty horizon, the wind already carrying the dry scent of heat, dust, and toxic air ahead of us.

 

***

 

Adytum came into view just as the sun began its slow descent.

From this distance it looked like an oasis that sort of looked like a prison. Tall walls of ramshackle parts and upright vehicle carcasses, rooftops patched with tin and canvas, faint curls of smoke rising from somewhere inside. Even from here, I could feel it pulling at me.

I stopped.

James, a step ahead, noticed immediately and turned back. He tilted his head, one eyebrow cocked.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

I let the silence stretch for a moment and then smiled faintly.

“Before we go there,” I said, planting my feet on the cracked road, “we need to do something.”

James straightened, his lips twitching like he already knew he was about to enjoy this.

“Oh?” he said. “And what might that be?”

I lifted my chin.

“We need,” I declared, “to reenact the scene.”

For a beat, his brow furrowed. Then his eyes widened in understanding, and he broke into a slow, wicked grin.

“The scene,” he repeated.

I nodded solemnly.

James chuckled, shaking his head, then spread his arms theatrically.

“Well, if we’re going to do it right,” he said, “I get to play Tony Hudson. No arguments.”

“Fine,” I said, fighting a smile. “But only if you commit to the drama.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he drawled in a terrible imitation of a movie star, “you have no idea what kind of drama you’re in for.”

And with that, he swept toward me, all exaggerated bravado, puffing out his chest and throwing back his shoulders like some tragic romantic hero from a mid-century matinee.

“Mia Taylor!” he bellowed in mock anguish. “Don’t you see? I would cross the very wasteland itself just to lay my heart at your feet! I would fight mutated toads and giant cockroaches to be by your side!”

I clapped the back of my hand to my forehead, gasping as though mortally wounded by love.

“Oh, James!” I cried, staggering back a step, “Don’t speak such dangerous truths! The world… the world isn’t ready for a love like ours!”

James clutched at his chest as though I had shot him, then lunged forward, scooping me up into his arms with surprising ease.

“The world be damned!” he growled, lowering his face to mine.

And then, with the heat of the sunset on our backs and the faint hum of Adytum in the distance, he kissed me.

It was deep, it was silly, it was perfect. His mouth claiming mine with all the cheesy, overblown passion of a pre-war silver screen hero.

When he finally broke the kiss, I tilted my head back, let my hand flutter delicately to my temple, and whispered the line, the closing line, in my most breathless, tragic voice:

“Tomorrow,” I said, “we’ll cook the fatted cockroach.”

James burst out laughing so hard he nearly dropped me, and I laughed right along with him, the sound echoing out over the empty road.

And for just a moment, with his arms still around me and the taste of that ridiculous kiss still on my lips, the wasteland felt a little less empty.

James gave me a playful little bow, his grin still lingering from our theatrics.

“Let’s go and see what Adytum has for us,” he said.

We walked side by side as the last of the sun sank behind the town, casting it in gold-edged shadow. The closer we got, the more real it became. The cracked walls patched with sheet metal and wood, the faint flicker of lanterns behind narrow slits, the silhouettes of guards watching us from above, rifles glinting.

When we were no more than twenty paces from the gate, a bell clanged somewhere inside the wall, harsh and hollow.

A small square of metal near eye level scraped open, revealing a pair of beady eyes peering at us.

“What do you want?” the man barked, suspicion dripping from every syllable.

I forced a smile, or something close to it, and took a cautious step forward.

“We’re… we’re vault dwellers,” I said, my voice a little stronger than I felt. “From Necropolis. We heard we might find…”

But the window slammed shut before I could finish.

We heard shouting from the other side of the wall.

“Marge!? Do you know of any vaults in Necropolis?”

A pause.

“No!” came the reply, distant and sharp. “No vaults there!”

Another pause.

“But they’re clean and shiny… and have all their teeth!”

Longer silence this time, then a woman’s voice, loud, irritated, shouting back:

“Fine! Let them in!”

A series of heavy bolts clunked, and moments later the massive steel door groaned open just wide enough for us to slip through.

“Get in, get in!” someone snapped from inside.

We hurried through, and no sooner had we stepped clear than the door crashed shut behind us, the echo rattling through my chest. A massive steel girder slid into place with a final, definitive clang.

We barely had a chance to take in the dimly lit compound ahead before we were greeted by five rifles leveled squarely at our chests.

I froze, raising my hands slowly, then shot a glance at James and gave him a tiny nudge.

He raised his hands too, muttering under his breath just loud enough for me to hear.

“Friendly place.”

I smiled faintly without taking my eyes off the guns.

“Home sweet home,” I murmured back.

Two people moved fast, quicker than I expected. One snatched my pack right off my shoulders, the other relieved James of his gear with a sharp tug. No words, no apology, just hands that had done this a hundred times before.

Then an older woman stepped forward.

She carried herself like a queen of ruins, her gray hair tied back, her jacket patched but clean, eyes sharp enough to cut glass.

She gave us both a long, assessing look and finally spoke.

“Vaulties,” she said, like it was a diagnosis. “Polite. Respectful. Annoyingly naïve. The vaults are numbered,” She points to her shoulder with a badge that had the number 34 proudly displayed. “What was yours?”

I opened my mouth but before I could answer, someone in the back of the crowd murmured loud enough to hear:

“That’s Mia Taylor. She was on some training videos.”

The woman’s head snapped toward the voice, her glare silencing them. But then she turned back to me and narrowed her eyes.

“You do look like Mia Taylor,” she said slowly. “I’ve seen the RobCo training vids thousands of times. You smile, point at the oven, tell everyone how to turn it on. Hmph.”

Her words hit like little darts.

I took a breath, keeping my voice even. “We… went into the vault before the war,” I began. “RobCo chose thirty of us, men and women, to be frozen, in suspended animation. We were supposed to… repopulate the world when it was safe. That was the plan.”

One of the men off to her right dug into my pack and pulled out a bundle, my jumpsuit, gleaming clean and blue, the Vault-Tec patch bright as the day it was stitched. James’s gear was there too, equally pristine.

He held it up.

“There’s no way they’re from anywhere but a vault, ma’am,” he said. “Look at this. RobCo. Vault-Tec. They’ve got the gear.”

The woman’s gaze drilled into me again, harder now.

“You’re telling me you’re Mia Taylor, the movie star and the woman in our training videos?”

I swallowed. Then nodded.

It wasn’t exactly the truth, not really, but it was who I was now.

“It was part of my contract with RobCo,” I added, letting my tone fall into that calm, confident rhythm James used on me. “If I agreed to do the training films, I was guaranteed a place in a… special vault.”

For a long moment she just studied me, her eyes full of quiet judgment.

Then, finally, she gave a small, humorless laugh.

“Those bloody RobCo executives,” she muttered, “always thinking they were better than everyone else.”

Her hand reached out and brushed the torn sleeve of my top, almost gentle.

“You’ve seen some of the wastelands for sure. There’s a place,” she said then, her voice lower. “Called the Enclave. At least two weeks south of the Hub. Walled city and a dome. Where all the executives saved themselves. One day they will get what’s coming to them.”

Her eyes came back to mine, hard again.

“I run this place. I’m Marge. We have a place for you here too. But everyone’s on probation for the first month. No weapons. You pull your weight, you prove your worth, or you’re out. Clear?”

James’s hand slid into mine, his easy smile disarming even her frost for a second.

“Very clear, ma’am. We’re married,” he said warmly. “I’m James Smith. Doctor. And Mia, for all her good looks and acting skills, is handy with a wrench… and a gun. Very handy.”

Someone in the crowd chuckled and piped up.

“I bet she trained when filming The Last of the Hudsons! That scene when she shot the guy in the foot by accident, still the funniest damn thing I ever saw.”

Heat rose in my cheeks, but I couldn’t help the smallest smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

“Better aim now. I’ve been practicing on roaches,” I said dryly.

The crowd laughed, and for the first time since the door had slammed shut behind us, I felt like maybe, just maybe, we belonged.

 

***

 

Marge gave a sharp whistle, and a young woman emerged from the shadows of the gate, maybe fifteen, sixteen at most, though her shoulders were already squared like she had carried this job for years.

“Nora,” Marge barked. “Show them around. Get them settled. They’re yours for now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Nora chirped, already on the move.

One of the men shoved our packs back at us, lighter now, stripped of weapons. But that was fine. For the first time since stepping into this scorched world, I felt… safe.

Or something close to it.

Nora led us deeper into the compound, her dark braid bouncing against her back as she spoke quickly and confidently.

“This way. The compound was built around a vault entrance, and we still have access to that space. You will have a room to yourselves down there.”

The place was bigger than I expected. Behind the walls, fields of squat green crops stretched out in neat rows, workers bent low with hoes and baskets. There was an open-air sitting area dotted with rough tables and benches, and beyond that a crude stage, a podium and platform cobbled together from old sheet metal and splintered wood.

Shops lined one side of the square, their hand-painted signs swinging gently in the dusk.

And then, just as the last light faded, electric bulbs strung overhead flickered to life, casting the streets in a warm, uneven glow.

I stopped for a moment and stared.

Lights.

After all this time, there were still lights. It was quite the feat of ingenuity.

“How many people live here?” I asked softly.

Nora grinned over her shoulder.

“About a hundred thirty-six, with you two.”

James gave a low whistle beside me, clearly impressed too.

We walked a little further when I noticed Nora sidling up closer to him, her eyes darting toward me but lingering on him.

“Uhmmm,” she began, almost shy but not quite, “if you’re… looking to have kids, I’m sure you’ll find plenty of women here willing. I mean…” Her voice dropped half a pitch. “I’m willing.”

I froze mid-step.

Before she could finish the thought, I reached out and hooked my arm through James’, pulling him close to me until our sides touched.

“Did you not hear?” I said firmly. “We are together. James and me. Together.”

Nora snorted, actually laughed.

“That might’ve been the way two hundred years ago,” she said with a little shrug, “but not anymore. Vault women are expected to have kids. Lots of kids.”

She gave me a sly smile as though this was something I should already know.

“I’ve got two already. Around here somewhere.”

I stopped walking and stared at her, my mouth falling slightly open.

“You’re what, sixteen?”

Nora’s grin widened. “Fifteen.”

I blinked, my stomach dropping.

“You’re fifteen?”

She chuckled at my shock.

“Yes,” she corrected, almost proudly. “We start early. We have to repopulate the world. Old traditions have to go. It’s not like the movies.”

I tightened my grip on James’s arm and glared at her.

“Well,” I said coolly, “James is mine. In case that was unclear.”

Nora just smirked at me, her gaze still trailing over him.

“He’s got new genes,” she said, almost under her breath. “You’ll see.”

I started to say something sharp back, but then I caught sight of them.

All around us women leaning against shop doors, women weaving through the crowd, women sitting at benches… their bellies swollen, their hands resting idly over curved stomachs.

Nearly all of them.

Pregnant.

And suddenly, I did see.

James shifted uncomfortably beside me, no doubt noticing the same thing.

But Nora just kept walking ahead of us, her braid swinging, her laugh soft and knowing.

Nora led us through the settlement with the confidence of someone who owned it or thought she did. Past the outer streets and shops, we stopped in front of a hulking steel door embedded into the rock.

A vault door.

I felt my chest tighten, a strange déjà vu washing over me.

James gave me a faint smile as if he felt it too. “Well,” he murmured, “home sweet cave.”

With a groan of metal on metal, the door rolled open, revealing a familiar airlock chamber beyond.

We followed Nora down into the earth, and with each step the scent of cool, recycled air grew stronger, mingling with the faint tang of soil.

But this was no empty tomb.

Once past the main corridor, the space opened into a vast subterranean chamber, lit by banks of artificial sunlight panels. Crops grew in neat rows across the floor, tomatoes, squash, even corn, their green leaves almost painfully alive in the sterile light.

Nora kept up her brisk pace, leading us through corridors lined with steel doors. Outside each one were patio chairs, little mailboxes, potted plants, like some twisted suburban dream buried in rock and steel.

I caught myself staring and she glanced over her shoulder at us.

“You two are still wearing your Pip-Boys,” she said, her tone neutral. “Good. Makes this easier.”

We stopped at door number 74.

“This room’s vacant,” she announced, kneeling at the panel beside the door. “Let me sync the lock to your Pip-Boys.”

Her fingers flew across the keypad and my wrist buzzed as the link established.

With a heavy thunk, the door released.

“Go ahead,” she said.

James and I stepped inside.

It was like stepping into a memory, or maybe into someone else’s life.

A small living room with a cheerful yellow couch, a little kitchen with spotless appliances, a modest bedroom through an open door, and even a squat, dusty television resting in its alcove.

It looked exactly like the vault room I had woken up in though warmer somehow, lived-in.

Nora leaned against the frame, arms folded, eyes sweeping the place with a little smirk.

“You know how everything works already,” she said, her voice cutting through my thoughts. “After all, you were the trainer for us women. We all grew up watching your smiling face explain how to boil water and open a ration tin.”

Her gaze flicked to James, lingering. “I’m in room fifty-eight,” she added lightly. “Come find me.”

Then she slipped out, the door shutting with a mechanical hiss behind her.

Silence settled.

James let out a low whistle and tossed our packs onto the couch.

I stood at the thick window looking out at the corridor, the steel walls and flickering lights outside making me feel like the air had grown heavier.

With a sigh, I reached up and drew the drapes across the window, cutting off the view of the world beyond.

Then I turned, leaning against the cool glass and letting my eyes roam over the bright little kitchen, the couch, the empty bedroom beyond.

I exhaled slowly and met James’s gaze.

“What,” I murmured, “did we get ourselves into?”

James flopped onto the yellow couch, tossing his jacket over the armrest, and shot me a grin.

“Well,” he said, leaning back, lacing his fingers behind his head, “looks like I’ve got myself a harem.”

I froze mid-step.

The laugh I had meant to force never made it out. Instead, a sudden heat surged behind my eyes, and before I could stop myself, tears spilled down my cheeks.

James shot upright instantly, his grin vanishing.

“Mia… no, no, I was joking,” he said, reaching for me. “I swear. It’s you. Only you. Always you. I have no desire to be with anyone else.”

I crumpled against him, letting his arms wrap around me, the faint smell of dust and wasteland on his shirt comforting in spite of everything.

“Good,” I mumbled into his chest, “because if anyone is having your kids, it’s going to be me.”

The words were out before I even realized I was saying them.

I froze, my breath catching.

I leaned back enough to look up at him, my eyes wide.

“I… I can’t believe I just said that.”

Before either of us could say anything else, a bell sounded in the hallway, loud and sharp, echoing through the steel walls.

We both looked at each other, our eyebrows raised.

The bell rang again.

Then came a knock at the thick window.

I reluctantly pulled the drapes aside and nearly fell backward.

A neat little line of women stood waiting outside, dressed in their finest patched dresses and shawls, each holding something in her hands.

I stared.

James let out a nervous chuckle, then moved past me and opened the door.

The first woman swept in without hesitation, glaring at me as though I had personally insulted her ancestors.

She shoved a bundle of dresses into my arms.

“Marge said you needed proper woman’s clothes from the store,” she snapped.

Then she turned to James, her face softening into something coy.

“I’m in room twenty-one,” she said sweetly. “Seven kids already. They say I’m special.”

I stood frozen, clutching the bundle, as another woman nudged past her with a wobbly plate of green Jell-O.

“Welcome, neighbors!” she chirped, pressing the plate into my hands before I could set the dresses down.

“Uh…” was all I managed before she grabbed James’s hand and started tugging him toward the bedroom.

“Come along, stud,” she cooed.

James yanked his hand back and raised both arms in mock surrender, herding the growing knot of women back toward the door.

“All right, ladies. That’s enough. Out you go. Go on now.”

They whined, pouted, and shouted their room numbers at him as he corralled them outside and shut the door firmly behind them.

The moment the lock clicked, and I drew the drapes again, silence settled like dust in the room.

James leaned his back against the door, letting out a long breath.

I stared at him for a moment, then handed him the plate of Jell-O.

“I’m… not very hungry,” I muttered.

Then I grabbed one of the dresses, hugging it to my chest, and headed for the bathroom without another word.

 

***

 

I woke the next morning sprawled across James, my cheek on his chest, my leg thrown over his. I was touching as much of him as I possibly could, as though I might wake up to find him gone, and I refused to let that happen.

The night before came back to me in pieces.

Crying quietly in the shower, biting my hand so he would not hear. The urge to walk out, to march right back to the wasteland rather than face one more false smile or another leering offer from a stranger.

But also the realization, bitter and cold, that this place was comfortable. Safe, even. And if we truly meant to make it on our own someday, we needed more information before we could survive out there.

I lifted my head and kissed him awake.

His eyes blinked open, still foggy with sleep, and he smiled before pulling me tighter, his hands sliding warmly up my back.

“You’re trouble,” he murmured, his voice rough with morning.

We lingered in those quiet, intimate moments until hunger and the faint hum of the vault’s lights finally coaxed us to rise.

We dressed slowly, savoring the normalcy, the clean water, the real bed, the warmth of knowing nothing out there was trying to kill us right now.

As I tied my hair back, James sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully.

“That woman yesterday… Marge?” he said. “She mentioned the Enclave. That was the name in the letter you found. Barbara’s letter from Winston Gentry.”

I nodded, adjusting the unfamiliar dress. “It has to be connected. RobCo’s executives hiding away somewhere, living like kings while the rest of us…”

He stood and pulled his shirt on, shaking his head.

“I think,” he said, “we play it cool. Keep our ears open. We need to understand this world before we rush anywhere. Where is it safe? What’s dangerous? Who can we trust? Do they even have maps?”

I was about to answer when the bell clanged outside the door, sharp and insistent.

James gave me a resigned look and opened it.

Nora stood there, smug as ever, with a man in tow.

“This is Malcom. Time for you both to show your worth,” she announced briskly.

She gestured to James. “You said you’re a doctor. You’re with me, clinic’s this way.”

James started to follow her but paused long enough to grab me by the waist and kiss me, long and full of love and something hotter that curled low in my stomach.

He pulled back slowly, his eyes lingering on mine, and then he went down the hall after Nora.

I exhaled shakily and finally turned my attention to the man standing there.

Malcom.

He was small, wiry, and wore a perpetually damp-looking shirt, his thinning hair slicked flat against his skull. A battered toolbelt sagged around his hips, full of wrenches and screwdrivers that clinked softly when he moved.

He sniffed, glanced at me up and down like I was another broken fixture he had been ordered to repair, then jerked his chin toward the corridor.

“This way,” he muttered.

I followed him. The hem of my borrowed dress brushing against my calves as we descended deeper into the vault. The air grew cooler and more metallic, and the faint smell of oil and ozone thickened with every step.

By the time we reached the mechanical area, the guts of this place, the hum of generators and the hiss of pipes filled my ears.

Malcom stopped at a junction of tangled conduits and gears, finally giving me a sideways glance.

“Let’s see if you’re worth the pretty face,” he said, and handed me a wrench.

The hours blurred together with clanging pipes, hissing steam, and my hands blackened with oil and grime.

It was obvious within the first hour that Malcom was no real mechanic.

Sure, he could patch a leak or bang on a vent to make it stop rattling. But he moved through the corridors like a rat, with no real understanding of how the maze around him worked. He barked orders anyway, and I humored him, because the alternative was worse.

By late afternoon I was up on a ladder, arms deep inside a valve assembly, my hair stuck to my neck and sweat trickling down my spine.

That was when I felt it.

Malcom’s hand, greasy and bold, sliding up my leg under the hem of my dress.

The shock of it nearly made me lose my balance.

I screamed, a sound that echoed off the steel walls, and swung down hard, smacking his hand away with such force it sent him sprawling flat on his back.

I stood there, breathing hard, the wrench still in my fist, and hissed down at him.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t ever touch me.”

He only grinned through his panting, sprawled there on the grated floor.

“Nicest legs I’ve ever touched,” he wheezed.

And then, incredibly, he started fumbling with his belt, his eyes glinting with something foul.

“Come sit down, darlin’,” he leered.

The fury flared white-hot in my chest. I leaned down, grabbed his belt before he could finish unbuckling it, and with one smooth pull yanked it clean from his pants.

His eyes went wide.

In another breath I looped it around his wrists, tightened the knot until he yelped, and left him hogtied on the floor, staring after me with a mixture of fear and additional lust.

I did not look back.

When I reached the room, I shut the door behind me and leaned against it, letting the work and stress of the day settle into my bones.

Moments later, the door opened again, and James stepped in.

He froze, taking one look at me, covered in dirt, streaked with grease, my dress half torn at the hem, and then he burst out laughing.

“I think,” he said between chuckles, “you need a shower and a new dress.”

I stared at him for a beat, then let the smallest smile creep over my lips.

Stepping close, I kissed him hard, smearing a dark streak of grease across his cheek as I pulled away.

“Now you do too,” I murmured.

His eyes went wide, then narrowed in mock outrage as I tugged him by the shirt collar toward the bathroom.

“You’re coming with me,” I said, my voice low and certain.

And this time, he didn’t laugh. He just smiled.

 

***

 

James’s hands were in my hair, his lips warm against mine when the loudspeaker above us crackled to life.

Mia. James. Please come to the surface for an important meeting.

It was Marge’s voice, sharp and commanding even through the static.

I groaned into his chest, forehead resting there.

“Do we have to?” I muttered.

James chuckled and brushed a lock of hair from my face.

“We should,” he said gently. “Show them we’re… part of the community now.”

I pouted at him, but he only extended his hand with that maddeningly earnest smile.

“Fine,” I said, slipping my fingers through his.

When we emerged into the late evening light, I stopped dead, blinking in surprise.

The whole courtyard was alive with people, more than I would have expected, as if the entire community had shown up. Tables had been set up, covered in colorful cloths and laden with plates of food that smelled warm and spicy. String lights hung between poles, glowing softly. Music, actual music, floated through the air from a scratchy old phonograph.

For half a heartbeat it didn’t feel like the end of the world at all.

It reminded me of one of my parties, two hundred years ago, when we still lived high above Necropolis.

Marge stood at the front, her hands gripping a microphone stand.

“There they are!” she called, her sharp voice cutting through the chatter.

People turned, eyes landing on us, and a smattering of applause rippled through the crowd.

“Please welcome our newest members of the community!” Marge declared. “James… and Mia!”

James leaned down, his breath warm on my ear.

“This is good,” he murmured. “We can learn a lot here tonight, about the world. The land. The people. Where it’s safe. Where it’s not.”

I nodded faintly, though I clung a little tighter to his arm as we moved through the crowd.

For the next hour, I tried to stay close to him, but the citizens of Adytum had other ideas.

Woman after woman pulled him aside, giggling and whispering, telling him how gentle his touch was, how kind his eyes were, how thorough he had been at the clinic. One even suggested she nearly swooned with passion.

One woman, with what had to be her fourth child strapped to her back, actually winked at me and said, “Hope you’re not selfish about sharing, honey.”

Meanwhile, I was busy fighting off men who thought my hips and my aim were up for auction.

At one point I caught James’ sleeve and dragged him toward a quiet corner behind one of the tables.

I planted my hands on my hips and glared up at him.

“What,” I hissed, “are these women talking about?”

He looked at me sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well…” he mumbled. “You know I was at the clinic today.”

“Yes.”

“And uhm… they all needed… physicals.”

I stared at him.

“Physicals,” I repeated flatly.

He shrugged helplessly.

“Great,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Just great. I spend my day in the dungeon with a greasy little mouse named Malcom…”

At that exact moment, Malcom waved at me from across the tables, grinning.

“I’ll tie you up next time!” he called cheerfully.

My jaw actually dropped.

Before I could fire back, Marge’s voice rang out again.

“Let’s eat!” she announced.

The crowd cheered and surged toward the tables.

I just stood there, staring at James.

“Don’t even say a word,” I muttered, grabbing a plate.

The food was good. Too good. I didn’t even care when someone said it was blowfly meat.

There was soft bread, even some kind of fruit preserves. I kept my head down at first, but it quickly became impossible to ignore the way eyes followed me everywhere.

Men would sit next to me just long enough to comment on my legs, asking how I managed to keep them so smooth “after all these years.” Women giggled and brushed against James’s arm, sighing over the way his biceps stretched his sleeves.

We smiled through it. Forced, but polite.

Between all the comments and laughter, though, we learned a few things.

Rumors about the Enclave, mostly, that the RobCo executives made it to their great-walled city before the bombs fell. That they were still living there now, rich and untouched, behind steel and glass domes. One person even suggested that the RobCo CEO, Winston, was still alive in there.

Someone told us the road to the Hub was dangerous, swampy in parts, and crawling with raiders. But if you want information about anything, it could be bought at the Hub. Everything was for sale there.

James even managed to pry some useful details from one of the women, where the guards stored their weapons, what the rotation was like at the gates.

I was starting to feel like this was almost worth enduring, when the stage lights flared back to life.

Marge stepped up to the microphone, her sharp little smile flashing in the warm glow.

“Thank you all for coming,” she began, her voice carrying easily over the din.

“And now…” she continued, her eyes landing squarely on me, “…the real reason you’re here tonight.”

A murmur of excitement rippled through the crowd.

“The auction,” Marge declared. “As you know, this community only continues to thrive if we grow. Vault dwellers are rare, and our genes remain unspoiled by the mutations of the wasteland. Every member of this community serves the community.”

Her smile widened as she gestured toward me.

“Up for auction tonight: Mia Taylor, famous actress from before the war!”

The blood drained from my face.

“What starting bid do we have,” she purred, “for the first impregnation attempt?”

For a second, I couldn’t breathe.

Then, from across the tables, a familiar voice called:

“Three bottle caps!”

Malcom.

He was standing now, his greasy hands pulled from his pockets, holding up three dented caps and grinning like a fox.

“Three caps!” Marge called, clapping her hands in mock delight.

I shot to my feet, my chair screeching back behind me.

“No!” I shouted, my voice cracking. “No, no, no! I am not for sale!”

Marge only laughed, her head tilting back.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, shaking her head. “You think we let you in here to feed you, clothe you, give you a warm bed… for nothing?”

I fumed, my fists curling at my sides as another man, broader, older, stood up and shouted:

“Twenty caps!”

And then the bidding took off, voices rising louder and louder, caps clinking on tables.

James’ chair scraped back behind me, and suddenly he was standing too, tall, furious, his jaw set.

“One thousand caps!” he bellowed, slamming his fist on the table hard enough to rattle the plates.

The whole area fell silent.

Even Marge blinked.

Then slowly, that sharp little smile returned, and she nodded.

“Sold,” she announced smoothly.

Her eyes glinted as she leaned into the microphone.

“Bring your caps up.”

James didn’t move. He just stood there, one hand still flat on the table, his other arm wrapping protectively around my shoulders.

I could hear his heart pounding through his shirt.

I didn’t dare look at him yet.

Because if I did, I might start crying. Because I knew, we had less than a dozen caps between us.

Marge waved James forward, her hand flicking impatiently.

“I need your caps,” she said, her voice syrupy but with steel underneath.

James leaned down, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered.

“Wait for my signal.”

I swallowed hard and nodded, though my knees felt like water.

“What? What are you going to…” I began, but he was already walking away, shoulders squared, up the creaking steps of the stage.

Marge grabbed his arm the moment he reached her, pressing her body close, smiling out at the crowd.

“While he’s here…” she purred into the microphone, “ladies… I know you’re all anxious for the draw.”

The crowd of women erupted in giggles and cheers.

“All eligible, non-pregnant women over the age of thirteen are in the basket,” she continued smugly, nodding to a large wire basket at her feet. “Three of you will be drawn for tonight.”

The cheers got louder, more frenzied.

Marge smirked at James and added, “If I’m being honest, he looks like he could handle five, but rules are rules. Now…” she turned fully toward him. “…you owe me for Mia. Let’s see those caps before we get to the draw.”

James just stood there.

“I… uhm…” he stammered, patting his pockets with exaggerated slowness.

And then… in one swift, terrifying motion… he grabbed Marge by the arm, yanked her tight to his chest, and pressed the point of a fork to her neck.

“Stand back!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the stunned silence. “All of you!”

Gasps rose from the crowd.

I froze, staring at him, my heart thundering.

And then I caught it, the smallest motion of his lips, just for me.

Run.

I blinked at him.

He mouthed it again, harder this time.

Run!

Finally, it sank in.

I shot to my feet and bolted, skirts flying behind me.

“Not that way!” James barked.

I stopped just long enough to see him jerk his chin toward the squat building behind the stage. The guard house.

I ran.

The crowd didn’t even move as I crashed past them, all eyes fixed on James and the woman with the fork at her throat.

The guard house door was locked, but I barely even slowed. One sharp kick and my enhanced legs sent it splintering inward like cheap kindling.

Inside it smelled of oil and gunmetal.

I grabbed two canvas bags hanging on hooks already packed I surmised for scouting missions and slung them over my shoulders. Then I snatched two rifles, a shotgun, and a sidearm from the rack. My fingers shook as I loaded the pistol, but it felt good. Solid. Familiar.

By the time I stormed back out onto the stage, I felt like a soldier.

I stepped up beside James, thrust the shotgun into his free hand.

His eyes flicked to me, and for a split second his mouth quirked into that crooked grin I loved so much.

“Thanks for the hospitality,” he said to Marge, loud enough for everyone to hear. “But no thanks.”

And then he shoved her hard, sending her sprawling into the crowd, which finally erupted in screams and shouts.

James swung the shotgun into his shoulder. I raised my pistol. And together we faced the stunned sea of faces, ready to carve our way out.

Marge’s voice tore through the night like a whip crack.

“Guards!” she shrieked, scrambling back to her feet.

The crowd of vault dwellers just… stood there. Faces pale. Eyes wide. Nobody moved.

The two guards on the wall above the door finally turned, their rifles in hand, but even from here I could see the hesitation in their eyes.

Marge jabbed a finger at us, her face red and twisted.

“Shoot them!” she screamed. “Shoot the newcomers! Just don’t kill them!”

One of the guards shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at her.

“But… they’re vault dwellers,” he called back, his voice cracking.

“They stole from us!” Marge shouted, stomping her foot. “Shoot them or I swear…”

The other guard spoke up, sounding just as unsure.

“We’ve never… shot a vault dweller before.”

That was all the time we needed.

James wrenched the heavy steel lock aside with one hand and shoved the door open.

“Go!” he barked, grabbing my arm.

We bolted into the dark.

Behind us, Marge’s screams blended with the confused murmur of the crowd and the nervous shouts of the guards.

My feet pounded the cracked pavement as I ran, lungs burning, my skirts snagging on every piece of dead brush. James was just ahead of me, his shotgun clutched in one hand, the canvas bag bouncing on his back.

We were nearly to the edge of the lights when the first shots rang out.

The sound cracked through the quiet, but the bullets went wide, far wide, smacking harmlessly into the dust behind us.

I did not dare look back.

We ran until the music, the lights, and even Marge’s furious shrieks faded behind us, swallowed by the night.

And still, we ran.

 

***

 

The morning sun was already cruel, a molten disc rising in the east, washing everything in harsh oranges, reds, and long black shadows.

With it came the realization that we had not run northeast as we thought, but southeast and deeper into unfamiliar territory.

I sank down onto a broken slab of concrete while James dropped the canvas bags between us. We rifled through them in silence.

Caps. About a hundred in all, which felt pitifully small now.

Food. Water. Enough for maybe two, three days if we were very careful.

I stared out at the empty horizon, and my stomach twisted as the map in my mind filled itself in.

James crouched next to the bag, stuffing the last of the water bottles inside. “We could head back to Mia’s vault,” he said, though his tone made it clear he already hated the idea.

I shook my head. “If we turn back, we will run into Marge’s people. Marge will send guards after us. You know she will.”

He snorted softly. “Yeah. And out here, we’re easy prey. All she needs is a couple of warm bodies who can aim straight.”

I glanced southeast, where the faint outline of mountains shimmered in the morning haze. “The Hub is… that way,” I said, pointing.

James followed my finger, his jaw tightening. “The Hub. Sure. Another day’s walk at least. Straight north is maybe five days, and that is through Los Angeles. We were warned to stay clear of L.A.”

“Where the raiders live,” I finished for him.

“Yeah. Them.” He let out a long breath. “So, backtracking is bad. Sitting here waiting to be hunted? Worse.”

I met his gaze. “The Hub’s a gamble,” I admitted.

James straightened, slung the bag over his shoulder, and gave me a wry grin. “Best bad option we’ve got.”

I smiled faintly and nodded. “Then let’s gamble.”

I watched him take two long, determined strides before I reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

“Wait,” I said softly.

He stopped.

I tugged him toward me and kissed him, hard enough that he stumbled.

When I pulled back, his eyes were wide, startled at first, then warm.

“You know,” I said, “you never have to pay for me.”

A small smile tugged at his mouth.

“But a thousand caps…” I added, narrowing my eyes in mock indignation, “…that makes me feel very valuable.”

James chuckled, the sound low and tired but genuine.

“I love you, James Smith.”

His grin widened.

“Do not forget,” he said, tapping his finger to my nose, “I also gave up three women a night.”

I smacked his arm, harder than I meant to.

“You really know how to spoil a moment,” I muttered, though my lips were already curling into a reluctant smile.

“Comes with the territory of being a manly man in the post nuclear wastelands,” he said, adjusting the bag with a wink.

I shook my head and fell into step beside him.

And together we started walking, southeast, toward the Hub and toward whatever waited for us in the dust.

We had walked for hours when the smell hit me first, thick, sour, and wet.

The kind of smell that clung to your clothes, your hair, even your teeth.

James cocked the shotgun with a satisfying cha-chunk, and I could not help but laugh.

“You really look the part when you do that,” I said, already pulling my pistol free.

He grinned. “Well, you know. If we’re about to meet man-eating frogs, best to look professional.”

I snorted. “I am certain those stories are vastly exaggerated. Surely.”

James tilted his head toward me, his expression deadpan. “Right. If two-headed trade cows make it through here, so can we.”

We pressed on, the path growing tighter and tighter as the swamp devoured it. The road was just a memory now, hidden under black mud and tangled reeds. Every step squelched and sucked at our boots.

We walked for hours, weaving around thick trunks and pushing aside walls of brush.

Then…

Something hot and slick and wrong snapped tight around my ankle.

I barely had time to scream before it yanked me off my feet.

“Mia!” James bellowed, charging forward.

I clawed at the reeds as I was dragged through the muck, my pistol almost tumbling from my hand. The world became a blur of green and brown and panic.

When I finally stopped, it was because I was slammed into a clearing, face to face with a creature that should not have existed.

A giant toad.

Bigger than a car, its eyes bulging and black, its skin slick and glistening, its tongue coiled tight around me.

James appeared, shotgun raised.

BOOM!

The blast ripped into the toad’s head, spraying gore across the swamp.

It shrieked, a horrible, guttural sound, and swung violently, tossing me aside like a rag doll.

I landed hard, but the tongue was still around me, until it wasn’t.

I looked up in time to see James nearly dragged into its maw.

“James!”

His arm was trapped in its tongue, inches from its gaping mouth, his shotgun hanging uselessly now.

I stood and fired. Five crisp cracks split the air.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

All right into the toad’s head.

Its eyes rolled back, and its bloated body shuddered before collapsing into the muck.

The tongue went slack, sliding off James’s arm.

I stumbled forward and extended my hand to him.

“Not so much of an exaggeration after all,” I said, breathless, smirking despite my shaking hands.

He clasped my hand and pulled himself up.

“Fine. I admit it. Man-eating toads are real.”

We stepped back warily as the creature convulsed one last time and then…

It belched.

A wet, foul cloud of gas escaped its mouth as it vomited up a pile of half-digested junk, bits of boots, a shattered rifle, what might have once been a hat… and among the mess, a glass jar filled with caps.

James crouched and plucked it out, grimacing as he wiped it clean on a tuft of grass.

“Well,” he said, holding it up, “a gift toad. How thoughtful.”

We were still chuckling when the reeds behind us rustled again.

Two more massive toads slithered into view.

They froze, staring at us for one awful heartbeat, then turned and pounced on the carcass of the dead one, ripping and gnashing at it.

“Time to go,” James muttered.

“Agreed,” I said, already backing away.

We ran, fast and silent, not stopping until the smell of swamp faded behind us and the air felt dry again.

 

***

 

By the time the swamp was a distant stink behind us, the rest of the trip toward the Hub felt almost… tame.

Well. Except for the raiders.

There were four of them. Filthy, shrieking, and firing teeth at us. The one thing about teeth is they are not very aerodynamic and curve badly at a distance.

When the first one’s molar landed ten feet wide and clattered harmlessly on the ground, I actually stopped and blinked.

James ducked behind a boulder and muttered, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I did not bother responding.

My rifle barked twice. Two of them dropped like sacks of wet flour, and the other two turned tail and ran, howling something about “real bullets.”

We scavenged their bodies and found another handful of caps, a few knives, and a pouch of questionable jerky. We left them in the dust with a remarkably casual attitude about the whole event.

By the time the Hub rose on the horizon, we had quite a list of accomplishments between us.

As we walked, James ticked them off on his fingers.

“Let’s see… ghouls. Check. Raiders. Check. Giant cockroaches. Check. Man-eating toads. Check. Baby-factory vault cult. Check. And…” he added with a crooked smile, “the Minutemen. Who are somehow still less civilized than the cockroaches.”

I laughed, though it sounded more tired than amused.

“In just days,” I said, “we’ve gone from completely naive about the post war wasteland… to feeling like we actually have a chance.”

James nodded, his shotgun resting on his shoulder.

“Yeah. We might even live long enough to regret it.”

Then the Hub came into full view, shimmering in the late afternoon sun.

If Adytum had been a patchwork quilt of desperation, the Hub was a full-on wild west carnival.

Wooden stalls, leaning shacks, and tented vendors lined the dusty streets. People hawked everything, weapons, water, clothing, food from whatever scraps they could scrap together. All of it looked somewhat questionable. There were brothels that made me cringe as I took in the tattered, abused, toothless women.

In the distance, though, I could see the core of the city rising up. It was more structured, more permanent, like it actually tried to be something more than just survival.

James tilted his head, studying it.

“Well,” he said. “It may smell like a latrine and look like it’s held together with spit and string… but it sure beats being eaten by a toad.”

I smirked and gave him a sidelong glance. “Let’s see if it beats the cult-vaults before we get too hopeful.”

We adjusted our packs, squared our shoulders, and walked down into the chaos. The deeper we pushed into the Hub, the louder it became, and the stranger.

It was like the wild west had crashed headfirst into a traveling carnival, and no one had told them to stop.

Everywhere I looked, something was being shouted, bartered, or shoved in our faces.

A man with one arm waved a rusty cleaver at James and bellowed about “prime brahmin shanks!” while a woman behind him hissed at me to buy her “miracle teeth polish” even though she had no teeth herself. There were several “dentist” shops offering three caps per tooth. They also sold bullets.

The smell was a blend of dust, sweat, spoiled meat, and what might have been a hint of gun oil. Somehow, it worked for the place.

We stood out. Even dirty from days on the road and still streaked with dried toad guts, we… shone.

Our skin was intact, not flayed, pock marked, or scarred. We still had all our teeth, which, judging by how many people offered to buy them, was apparently something of a commodity.

At least five different hands reached toward me before we even made it to the main thoroughfare, all of them aiming for my pack, my dress, even my hair.

I slapped one of them away on instinct, and the owner of the hand simply grinned at me, showing what few molars he had left.

James suddenly tugged me out of the flow of bodies and pressed me against a wall in the shade.

“We need a place to rest,” he said, his eyes scanning the crowd. “You… need different clothes. That dress is done for.”

I looked down at it, ripped, stained, and clinging in places it never should have, and could not argue.

“Agreed,” I said, brushing another grabby hand away without even looking. “We should also stock up. Provisions.”

He gave me a wry smile. “That’s the spirit.”

We fell back into step, letting the current of the market pull us along. It was madness.

One man was balancing on a crate shouting about radroach kabobs while a fistfight broke out not ten feet away with two men swinging wildly as others cheered them on, wagering caps.

A small girl no older than eight was dragging a gutted rifle almost as big as she was, calling it “the lucky one” and trying to sell it for more than Mad Marge’s vault number.

We passed a stall where a man was literally selling rocks painted gold, and another where someone, dead or pretending to be, lay sprawled on a table, with a sign over his chest reading:

FRESH ORGANS. STIL WORM. BARGIN.

James caught me staring and shook his head. “Don’t even ask,” he muttered.

Finally, the press of people broke, and we stepped into an open square, the core of the Hub.

Here, the air was a little clearer, the stalls sturdier, and the chaos… organized.

Better buildings ringed the square with actual doors instead of curtains, some with glass still intact in the windows. Signs were painted in careful letters: Saloon, Guns & Ammo, Provisions, Clinic, Outfitter.

An old fountain stood in the center, dry and cracked but draped with banners and a few desperate-looking streamers. A pair of guards, professional in comparison to what we had seen so far, leaned against the base, rifles slung casually across their chests as they watched the flow of people.

I turned in a slow circle, taking it all in, the sunlight catching on brass trinkets, the smell of cooking meat mixing with dust and gunpowder, the hum of a hundred deals being struck all at once.

James stepped up beside me and murmured close to my ear.

“Well,” he said, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “Welcome to what passes as post nuclear war civilization.”

We found a place to stay just off the square, if you could call it that.

The sign out front read Rest Stop in flaking paint, and the man behind the counter assured us it was “vermin-free.” Which, given the two-legged kind of vermin I had already met in the Hub, was good enough for me.

The room was little more than four walls and a cot that sagged so low I thought twice about even touching it. Still, it had a door, a bolt that looked like it worked, and the faint promise of privacy.

We dropped our packs and immediately went hunting for something better to wear.

After everything we had been through, the swamp, the raiders, the auction, I was finished pretending that dresses and delicate shoes belonged anywhere in this world.

In the first outfitter we found, I pawed through piles of dusty clothing while James bartered quietly with the shopkeeper for “something less likely to attract frogs and more likely to survive bullets made of teeth.”

What I ended up with was simple, functional, and, to my surprise, flattering: a pair of sturdy pants, soft enough to move in but thick enough to take a beating; a faded work shirt; and boots. Real boots.

I sat on the edge of the cot back in the room, tugging them on, and felt something that was almost relief.

James leaned against the wall, arms crossed, wearing a fresh shirt of his own.

“Boots and pants suit you,” he said with a grin.

“They suit giant toads better than crinolines,” I shot back, lacing them tight.

We even managed to clean ourselves up before collapsing. The “bathroom” down the hall featured water that came out of the tap brown and smelled faintly of swamp rot, but it was wet, and that was enough.

The soap they handed out smelled suspiciously like cockroach innards, but I did not ask, and James did not either.

By the time we dragged ourselves back to the room, changed into our cleaner clothes, and jammed a rusty chair under the door handle for good measure, I felt almost human again.

We split a stale loaf of bread and something vaguely resembling meat that James had found at a stand near the square.

Then we collapsed on the cot, fully dressed, packs within reach, our boots still on.

For the first time in what felt like forever… I slept.

***

 

We sat on the edge of the cot, the rusted chair still wedged under the door. James was tying his boots. He was quiet in a way that told me he was thinking hard.

I broke the silence.

“So… what now?”

He glanced up at me, lips quirking just slightly. “Well, I figure we need to make a list. Food, water, maybe some socks that don’t smell like swamp. Then we go back to Mia’s vault. Maybe build our own little enclave and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist.”

I stared down at my own boots, fingers tracing the laces.

“That… sounds safe,” I admitted. Then I shook my head. “But it also sounds like giving up.”

James paused, then tilted his head. “You’re not wrong.”

“There’s something…” I hesitated. “Something about what we heard. About the Enclave. About Winston maybe still being alive. If anyone has answers about what happened to us, why all of this happened, it would be them.”

James leaned back against the wall, arms crossing.

“Mia…” he began, but I cut him off.

“I just need to know,” I said. “It would be nice to know if Barbara had made it there. I’m sure they are not alive, but maybe they have information. If we get to the Enclave and it’s nothing? Then fine. We turn back. We go back to Mia’s vault and make ourselves comfortable.”

He studied me for a long moment, then sighed through his nose and nodded.

“You’re impossible to say no to, you know that?”

I smiled faintly. “Yes. You sort of married me, remember?”

That earned me a soft chuckle.

“Alright,” he said, standing and stretching his shoulders. “Enclave first, then vault if it’s a bust. But if anyone tries to auction you off again, I’m shooting first this time.”

“That’s the spirit,” I murmured, standing as well.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Alright. We need… enough supplies to get there and back. Clothes we can fight and sleep in. And clean water. Lots of it.”

I nodded, counting off on my fingers. “Food. Water. Maybe something to cook it with, if we’re lucky. Socks.”

“And bullets,” James added, shouldering his pack.

“Lots of bullets,” I agreed.

He grinned at me and offered his hand. “Alright, Mrs. Famous Movie Star. Let’s go shopping.”

I slipped my fingers into his squeezing tight. “Let’s.”

James and I stepped out of the Rest Stop and into the main square of the Hub.

The air was thick with noise and smells, roasting meat, sweat, dust, and everywhere I looked, people were bartering, shouting, fighting, laughing. It was wild, chaotic, alive in a way that made my skin prickle.

James pointed toward a small shop across the square with a crooked sign painted with the faint image of a rifle. “That one looks promising,” he said, starting to steer me toward it.

That was when the voice came.

Hollow. Dry. Echoing over the din.

“Grab her!”

My head snapped toward the sound, but before I even turned my head, two guards lunged from the shadows and seized my arms.

I screamed and fought back, twisting, kicking, my enhanced body sending one sprawling to the ground, but more came. James charged in, fists flying, knocking one back before another clubbed him across the ribs.

“Let me GO!” I shouted, sinking my elbow into one of their stomachs.

But four more appeared, surrounding us, their hands like iron. They forced us forward, up to the base of a wooden ramp.

And then I saw it. On a platform above the square sat… him.

A throne. Or at least a semblance of one, patched together from the chrome bones of old Chryslus Corvegas. And in it lounged the most grotesque figure I had ever seen.

Thin, leathery skin stretched tight over bones. A half-gone face, eyes sunken deep into black hollows. No nose, just cartilage. A battered cowboy hat tilted low over his brow.

He leaned forward, raised a skeletal hand, and slowly tipped the hat back to reveal what remained of his face.

Then he smiled.

“That’s my wife,” he rasped, his voice like wind through a graveyard. “I’d recognize her anywhere.”

I froze, my blood running cold.

Beside me, James stiffened. I heard him whisper, almost to himself:

“That’s… Edward. Edward Taylor. He’s barely recognizable.”

The crowd that had gathered around us murmured, some chuckling, others whispering to each other as the ghoul rose from his throne.

“What?” he called down as he descended the ramp toward me, his boots clanging on the metal. “No words for your long-lost husband, Mia Taylor?”

I struggled against the guards holding me, snarling like a cornered animal, but they kept their grip.

The ghoul, Edward, stopped inches from me. I could smell him now, the faint stench of rot and ash. He raised a hand, bony fingers reaching for my hair.

I jerked my head back and hissed. “Don’t touch me! You are not my husband!”

His hand froze, then slowly lowered.

And then… he laughed. A low, rasping sound that crawled across my skin.

“Oh… but I am,” he said. “I tried to get into our vault when the sirens sounded. I was shocked. Shocked to find the code had been changed! My own wife had locked me out.”

He circled me now, voice dripping with venom and theatrical flair.

“I pounded on that door… I begged. I tried and tried as the first blast hit. Felt my skin peel right off me.”

He stopped in front of me again, raised both his hands in mock grandeur, and sneered.

“But here I am. In all my glory.”

He leaned closer, his hollow eyes burning into mine.

“And you…” his tongue darted out, wetting cracked lips.

“…looking better than the day you left me to die.”

My pulse hammered in my ears as his skeletal fingers clamped around my arm. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and finally found my voice.

“That Mia…” I said through gritted teeth, staring straight into his hollow eyes, “…is long dead.”

For the briefest moment, his grin faltered. Then he threw his head back and let out a dramatic, dry laugh that sent shivers through me.

“Of course she is,” he said, drawing out the words as though savoring them. “Two hundred years changes people. But…” he leaned closer, his breath a scorched whisper against my cheek, “I seem to recall our vows included for better or for worse… ‘til death do us part.”

His grip tightened painfully on my arm. “Well, darling, I am still standing. So, you and I… we’re not quite parted yet.”

He tugged me roughly toward him, his leer growing wider.

“Now come along, sweetheart,” he purred, the sound dry and mocking. “We have some catching up to do. And some…” his cracked lips curled into something grotesque “…consummation. Been a long time for me.”

I wrenched at his hold, planting my feet, but it was useless. The radiation that had warped him had also made him strong, much stronger than even my enhanced body could match. My nails dug into his arm, but his skin didn’t so much as flinch.

Behind me, one of the guards shifted uneasily.

“Sheriff?” he asked. “What do we do with… him?”

He nodded toward James, who was being held back by two guards, his face livid with fury but powerless.

Edward glanced lazily over his shoulder at him, still gripping me tight. He studied James like a man appraising a dog.

“Well,” he said at last, his voice dripping with disdain. “He seems to fancy my wife. And we all know…” he smirked at the guards “…what a stickler I am about upholding the law.”

The guards chuckled darkly, their laughter cutting through the heavy air.

Then Edward turned back to me, his gaze raking over me in a way that made my stomach churn.

“And here I thought,” he added, cocking his head, “you were partial to women. Wasn’t it… Jennifer? Yes, Jennifer. You spent so much time with her, didn’t you?” His lip twitched, like he was trying to remember how to sneer properly.

“My memory isn’t quite what it used to be,” he continued, almost wistful now. “But I do remember our times together, darling. You liked it rough…”

He lowered his face until his cracked lips were nearly at my ear, his voice dropping into a revolting whisper.

“Hope you can wait to tell me all about what’s happened since… after we make love again.”

The way he purred those last two words, make love, made my skin crawl and my hands clench into fists.

The sound of boots on metal echoed through the square before I even saw her. Marge, in all her self-righteous fury, stormed through the crowd with a dozen armed guards at her back. Her voice cut through the murmurs like a blade.

“Those two are mine!”

I froze as every head turned.

Edward tilted his cowboy hat back, grinning. “Yours? I don’t see your name carved on her, sugar. This one is my wife. Which, to spell it out for your twisted blend of inbred DNA, means she’s mine.”

Marge’s lip curled. “Don’t you dare talk to me about claims. They broke Adytum law before they ever came here. I’m due justice! They refused to propagate. They belong to me!”

Edward took a lazy step closer, spreading his bony hands like a showman. “This ain’t Adytum, darlin’. You’ve got no jurisdiction here.”

The two of them squared off in the center of the square like it was high noon, their guards bristling on either side. I could feel James inch closer to me, his hand brushing against mine.

“You hear that?” Edward called to the crowd. “This woman comes into my town, tells me what to do? Not happening.”

Marge snarled something I couldn’t make out, and then it all went to hell.

A single shot rang out.

Then another.

The square erupted in more than normal chaos. Guns roared, people screamed, and dust clouded the air as vendors dove for cover and guards unleashed hell on each other. I ducked instinctively as a bullet whizzed past my ear and shattered a vendor’s lantern. James pulled me down behind an overturned cart, his eyes wide.

“They’re killing each other,’ he muttered.

And in the madness, no one was watching us anymore.

I saw one of Edward’s guards collapse, his rifle sliding into the dirt. Another of Marge’s was already dead, lying in a pool of blood. All around us, people scrambled, vendors abandoned their stalls, and caps spilled into the street.

I met James’s eyes.

“Great time to go shopping on the way out!” I hissed.

We scrambled up, grabbing our packs from where they had been dropped near the platform. James snatched the fallen rifle without hesitation, and I swiped a bag of food from an abandoned vendor’s stand as we ducked through the melee. A man tried to grab me as I passed, I kicked him squarely in the chest, snatched a satchel of real bullets from behind his counter and kept moving.

We ran past carts, overturning one as cover. James grabbed a handful of caps from another stand as the vendor cowered below the counter. The din of gunfire behind us grew louder, mingling with the screams of the wounded.

By the time we reached the edge of the square, neither Marge nor Edward even noticed we were gone.

We didn’t stop running.

Through the maze of alleys, through the gates of the Hub, through the dusty roads beyond, we ran until the shouting faded and the town became nothing more than a silhouette against the horizon.

When we finally stopped, panting and sweating in the late afternoon sun, I turned and watched the distant speck of the Hub shrink further into the wasteland haze.

James put his hands on his knees, catching his breath, then looked at me with a wry grin.

“Well,” he said between gasps. “That… was unpleasant.”

I laughed despite myself, my pulse still hammering. “I’m pretty sure Mia’s vows did not include ‘till death do you part even if your husband becomes an immortal radioactive skeleton,” I said, leaning against him, “I think I should file for divorce.”

James tugged me close for a kiss. “Divorce in post nuclear war wasteland is probably chopping his head off with a rusted chainsaw.”

“I could live with that.”

And together we turned south, away from the smoke and gunfire, toward whatever lay beyond.

 

***

 

We camped that night in what was left of someone’s home, just four walls, no roof, a floor of cracked concrete and drifting sand. The moonlight poured in through what had once been a kitchen window, catching on the jagged remains of cabinets and a bent faucet still clinging to the wall.

We swept the corners like professionals, checking for footprints, nests, droppings, anything alive. But nothing had claimed this shell in a long time. We rolled out our thin blankets on the cleanest patch of floor and sat side by side, our backs against the eastern wall, watching the sky fade from dusk to darkness.

James tilted his head back and sighed. “You know… people out here,” he said, “they might as well have been dropped back into the Dark Ages. Scrambling for scraps, hiding in ruins, burning each other alive over bottle caps.”

I rested my chin on my knees and watched his profile in the moonlight. “It feels that way, doesn’t it?”

“You can’t trust anyone,” he said quietly. “Not a soul. Everyone’s got an angle. Even when they smile, you can see it… the weighing of what you’re worth. What they can take or get from you.”

I was quiet for a long time, my fingers twisting the frayed edge of my blanket. He looked over at me. “I’ll keep first watch,” he added as if that settled things.

Instead, I slid closer and stretched out against him, laying my head on his chest. His heartbeat thudded steadily under my cheek, and it made the silence easier to bear.

“Maybe.” I murmured, half to myself, “Maybe what this world needs is a little trust. A touch of humanity. I know we haven’t seen a lot of violence, but…” I looked up at him. “Maybe we can try not to kill anyone for a few days.”

James chuckled low in his throat and pressed his palm to the back of my head, stroking my hair gently. “We can certainly try,” he said.

And so, we lay there under the moonlight, the ruins rising around us like the walls of a cathedral, two survivors curled up in the dust, daring, just a little, to hope.

 

***

 

We walked for hours the next day, heading south under a cloudless sky. The air was dry but not sharp anymore, the sun warm without being cruel. Ruins still dotted the land around us, lonely husks of buildings, roofs caved, steel twisted, but less often now. Some of them, I thought, might have survived the firestorms, only to crumble slowly and quietly over the centuries.

James walked a step ahead, the shotgun slung loosely across his shoulder, his gaze flicking to every shadow. Eventually, he slowed and glanced back at me.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said.

“Dangerous,” I teased, trying to keep the mood light.

He smirked, but his eyes stayed serious. “What you said last night. About trust. You’re right… the world needs it. Maybe we do too. But…” His jaw flexed as though he hated the word. “We have to be careful. I won’t lose you just because we tried to be nice to someone.”

I nodded and caught up to walk beside him. “I agree. Careful,” I said softly. “But not cruel.”

He made a low sound of assent, his hand brushing mine briefly as we walked.

For a long stretch, we said nothing, the only sounds were our boots crunching on cracked asphalt. The road ahead shimmered in the heat, bending away into land less broken than before.

Then James cleared his throat. “Mia,” he said quietly. “How… how do you feel? About yourself. It’s been almost two weeks now. Two weeks as… you.”

I stopped walking and looked at him fully, surprised by the question.

“It’s funny,” I said after a moment, the corners of my mouth curling into a smile. “I haven’t really thought about it much. I’ve just been… trying to live. Survive. But now that you ask…” I stepped closer, standing on tiptoes to kiss him, slow and deliberate. When I pulled back, my voice was soft but certain. “I wouldn’t want to go back. Not to being Charles or a man. I love being Mia. I love… seeing how your eyes widen when I touch you.”

He swallowed, his thumb grazing my cheek. “You always did know how to make me lose my words,” he murmured.

“And you?” I asked, tilting my head, watching him. “Do you miss being Jennifer?”

James was quiet for a few beats, then shook his head. “No. Not once. The moment I became James, I felt… stronger. Safer. Like myself in a way I had never let myself be before.” His mouth tightened, his gaze falling to the ground. “And seeing Edward again…”

I waited.

“I hated him,” James said finally, his voice rough. “Even before the bombs. I would find the bruises on Mia… on her legs, her arms. Never her face, of course. Not the pretty face that earned him money.” His jaw clenched. “But the rest of her… she was always covering them up. And I…”

He stopped, his chest rising and falling, and for a moment the silence around us was deafening.

I reached for his hand and laced my fingers through his. “That’s over,” I whispered. “He doesn’t get to touch Mia… or me anymore. Not now. Not ever again.”

James looked at me then, and his lips twitched into the faintest smile. “Not while I’m breathing,” he said.

We stood there in the middle of the empty road, clinging to each other, letting the ghosts drift away for a while before we started walking again.

The road ahead shimmered faintly when the trader came into view, a woman walking beside a two-headed cow, its panniers bulging with goods. She did not slow when she spotted us, her eyes sharp but not hostile.

I leaned into James and murmured, “No guns. Keep them ready, but… let’s try something different this time.”

He gave a tiny nod, resting a hand casually on his belt as we continued forward.

When we were within a few feet, the woman smiled. “Well, I’ll be,” she said. “I’m surprised to see you two again. When I passed you northeast of Adytum, you were so green to the wasteland I figured you’d be raider fodder before sunset.”

I smiled back at her. “We’ve had our moments,” I admitted.

Then, on impulse, I added, “Is there anything you need?”

The woman stopped, her eyebrows rising as though I had just spoken another language. “…Nobody’s ever asked me that before,” she said at last.

She studied us for a moment, then shrugged. “Not me, no. But…” She dug into one of the packs slung over the cow’s back, rummaging noisily before pulling something out. She held it toward me.

“Either of you mechanically minded?”

James pointed without hesitation. “She is.”

The woman grinned faintly and handed me a dusty, heavy-looking cylinder. “You know what that is?”

I turned it over in my hands, feeling its weight, and nodded. “Main cylinder for a water pump. Intake side, if I’m not mistaken.”

The woman’s smile widened. “That’s right. I found it yesterday in the remains of an old well. There’s a family down south, if that’s where you’re headed. Their pump’s dead, and they’re barely scraping by. I’d stop myself, but I’ve got to get to the Hub before end of day tomorrow and honestly, I can break things apart but never put them back together. I trade with them sometimes. Thought I’d hang onto this for the next trip.”

She tilted her head, giving us both a considering look. “Maybe… if they don’t shoot you first, you could use it. Fix their pump. Either way, I don’t need it.”

She gave the cow a tug, and the lumbering creature resumed its steady plod northward.

We stood there for a moment, watching her go, the pump cylinder in my hands, feeling oddly lighter somehow, like a small glimmer of something better had just passed between us.

James looked at me, a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.

I smiled back. “Well,” I said softly, “it’s a start. We didn’t kill anyone.”

 

***

 

We spotted the compound a little way off the main road, huddled behind patched-together walls of metal and wood. It was the first sign of people we had seen all day.

“Do you think that’s the family the trader was talking about?” I asked James, slowing my steps.

He studied it for a moment, then nodded. “Time-wise from when we met the trader, it seems about right. How do you want to approach?” he asked me, his voice quiet but wary.

I just shrugged, lifted my hands into the air, and started walking toward the place. There was no point in making it more complicated.

We weren’t even halfway to the wall before a rifle barrel poked out from a narrow hole in the planks and leveled at us.

“Stop right there!” a man barked. “Go away!”

I froze, kept my hands high, and spoke softly, trying to keep my voice calm. “We will, if that’s your wish. We don’t want any trouble. We… we heard you need water. That your well is broken. We can’t promise anything, but we’re willing to try to help fix it.”

“It’s busted good,” the man yelled back. “Now go away.”

James gave me a look, then slowly knelt and set his pack on the ground. “We have some parts for a pump with us,” he called, his movements deliberate. From inside the pack, he pulled out the pump cylinder and held it up for the man to see.

From behind the wall, a woman’s voice cut through the silence. “We need the water, Harry. We’ll die without it in days. What’s the difference if it is now or then?”

The man, Harry, snapped back at us, his rifle steady. “If you make a move toward your weapons, I will shoot you dead!”

For a long moment, nothing happened but the wind scraping through the walls. Then I heard metal sliding, and the door cracked open in front of us.

We stepped into the compound, and the heavy door slammed behind us with a metallic clang that made me flinch. The man, the woman, and two children stood in a loose line, staring at us. Both the man and woman had guns leveled in our direction.

The place was heartbreakingly small, just a single battered house, a mechanical hand pump sitting over a cracked well, and a little patch of garden that looked more dead than alive. My heart ached looking at it.

“You’re safe with us,” I said gently, meeting the man’s hard eyes. “Please. Let me check your water pump. I’m pretty handy.”

“Leave your weapons there,” he ordered, the rifle never wavering. Then he jabbed the barrel slightly toward James. “And he stays close to me.”

James nodded silently and handed me the pump cylinder. I dropped my things at my feet and moved slowly toward the well.

When I put my hand on the pump and worked it once, the sound of metal grinding against itself was loud and sharp. No water came. I winced and turned to them. “Do you have any tools?”

The woman disappeared into the house and returned a moment later, tossing a small bundle toward me, staying well out of reach.

“Thanks,” I murmured and set to work.

It took me the better part of an hour, my hands slick with grime, knees aching from crouching in the dirt, but finally, I stood, wiped the sweat from my brow, and gave the handle multiple slow, deliberate pushes.

Water poured out, clear and cold.

The woman gasped behind me.

When I glanced over my shoulder, Harry’s gun had lowered a fraction, his eyes wide with something that looked almost like disbelief.

I straightened and glanced up at the darkening sky. “It’s getting late,” I said softly, turning to James. “We should go and find a safe place to stay for the night.”

I walked back to where we had dropped our packs, and the door to the compound groaned as someone opened it for us again.

We got no more than ten paces outside when I heard footsteps behind us.

“God bless you both,” the woman called.

I turned. She stood in the doorway, her rifle now hanging loose at her side.

“Come inside,” she said, her voice a little shaky but earnest. “Stay the night. Where it’s safe.”

The woman, she introduced herself as Martha, stepped back to let us in, still holding her rifle but no longer aiming it. “This is Harry,” she said, motioning to the man, who gave a stiff nod, and then to the children, a boy and a girl who peeked out from behind her skirt.

“Mia,” I said quietly, offering a small smile. “And this is James. We’re… travelers.”

Inside, the house was sparse but neat. Two worn mattresses lay on the floor, side by side. A battered table and a couple of mismatched chairs stood to one side, and in the corner, a little wood-fired stove still radiated faint warmth.

The air was tense, of course. It would have been strange if it weren’t. But I could see the suspicion in their eyes starting to soften, just a little.

Martha and I ended up outside for a while, hauling water from the newly working pump and pouring it over the dry soil of their garden. The kids watched me with wide, curious eyes as I worked.

When we finally sat down to eat, it was clear they preferred to stick to their own supplies, and that was fine. James and I pulled out some of our dried meat and hard biscuits, and we all ate quietly. Between bites, we asked them about what lay ahead.

Harry told us there were concentric guard posts as you got closer to the Enclave, old checkpoints still manned by who-knows-what kind of people and machines. “Most folks go miles out of the way to avoid it, however, there are fewer raiders due to the security. They only let in purebloods, whatever that is,” he said, voice low.

We nodded, filing it away.

That night, James and I lay down on the edge of the room, weapons within reach, and slept with one eye open.

By morning, the mood had changed completely. The kids hugged us tightly when we stood to leave. Martha pressed my hands in hers and whispered an apology for how they had treated us at first. Harry even managed to make a faint smile and told us we were welcome anytime.

We stepped out into the morning air feeling tired but… thankful.

As we walked south again, I glanced at James and murmured, “Feels like maybe… just a little… we gave something back to this world.”

He reached over, squeezed my hand, and said, “Yeah. A slice of humanity.”

 

***

 

We walked south through the brittle grass and cracked earth, the sun dropping low and painting the world in copper and rust. My boots crunched over pebbles as I spoke to James, almost dreamily.

“We could live like that, right?” I said. “The way that family did. Sure, it’s rough… but it was the first real family we’ve seen out here. We could build our own little compound with guns, lots of guns, walls around it, maybe even around Mia’s old house and the underground shelter. Have a garden. Maybe…”

I hesitated, glancing sideways at him. “Maybe even some kids someday.”

James opened his mouth to reply, his expression softening, but the wasteland answered him.

The quiet shattered.

A low, vibrating roar grew in the distance and then two Vertibirds came screaming across the sky, their engines howling and their blades chopping the air like a thousand knives.

“Oh no…” James muttered, already dropping his hand toward his rifle. But there was no cover. Nothing but flat ground, dirt, and hopelessness.

The Vertibirds circled above us, huge cannons mounted on their bellies locking on, whirring mechanically as they tracked us. Then a loudspeaker crackled and boomed over the rotor noise:

“Drop your bags and weapons, then step away from them!”

We froze. The demand repeated. James threw me a helpless look. I shrugged my pack off and let it fall to the ground, along with my pistol and rifle. He did the same, and we stepped back, hands slightly raised.

The airships lowered and landed in unison, kicking up a sandstorm that bit at my cheeks and hair. The doors hissed open and four massive figures leapt out, clad in gleaming T-60 power armor, every footstep shaking the ground with a heavy thud. They carried massive rotating machine guns, each one pointed squarely at us.

Behind them, a man in a white lab coat emerged. His face was expressionless, his movements efficient as he advanced on us with a pair of radiation detectors already humming and blinking in his hands.

“What is this?” James called, his voice rough over the roar. “What do you want?”

No answer. Not even a glance in his direction.

The man passed the detector over me, over James, checked the readings, frowned briefly, and then stepped closer. He pulled a small, sleek device from his pocket and in one swift motion, pressed it hard against the side of my neck.

There was a snap, a stabbing jolt of pain, and I cried out despite myself.

He didn’t react. He simply retrieved a tiny glass ampule from the device, slotted it into his Pip-Boy, and tapped a button. The screen lit up green, and Vault Boy gave a jaunty thumbs-up.

The man nodded once, then moved to James and did the same. Snap, sting, green light, thumbs-up.

Finally, the man glanced at the nearest soldier and muttered something I could not hear.

One of the armored giants turned his head toward us, his voice metallic and booming through the helmet’s speaker:

“Subjects acquired. Status: viable. Extraction authorized.”

I swallowed hard and looked at James, his jaw set, his fists clenching and unclenching.

We didn’t fight. What would have been the point?

We were already theirs.

We were shoved, not roughly, but firmly into the belly of the Vertibird. The hatch slammed shut behind us with a metallic clang, and the engines screamed back to life.

I stumbled into the bench, James steadying me before taking the seat beside me. Across from us, one of the T-60s sat like a statue, its glowing visor fixed on nothing in particular.

The craft lurched upward, and the world below fell away.

“Hey!” James shouted over the roar of the rotors, leaning toward one of the soldiers. “Where are you taking us? Who the hell are you?”

Nothing. Not even the courtesy of a glance.

I tried too, but my voice caught in my throat halfway through the question. They would not have answered anyway.

I sat back and gripped the edge of the bench, the vibration rattling through my bones. The brief glimmers of kindness we had found with Martha and Harry, with the children hugging us goodbye, all of it suddenly felt naive. Foolish.

What strange cult had we fallen into now?

I kept my eyes on the ground rushing by beneath us.

It was… startling. No blackened craters or melted skeletons, no jagged remains of skyscrapers. The scars of the old world grew faint as we flew further south. A patchwork of scrubland, scattered destroyed homes, most likely fallen from lack of maintenance rather than bombs, and orderly little outposts passed below.

The outposts grew more frequent the further we went.

Lines of men and women stood at checkpoints, some in dusty uniforms, others clad in hulking T-51 armor, more battered and utilitarian than the polished monster sitting across from me.

“You seeing this?” James murmured, low enough the soldiers probably could not hear.

I only nodded.

Then the sun began to sink toward the horizon, igniting the sky in a blaze of orange and rose.

That was when I saw the Enclave.

At first, it was only a faint glimmer, like sunlight on water. But as we drew closer, it rose into view: a vast dome of shimmering glass and steel, spanning miles across. Inside, green trees swayed gently, dotted with clean white buildings that climbed skyward in sleek angles. Waterfalls caught the dying light, spilling into sparkling lakes.

My breath caught in my chest.

It was beautiful.

But even from here, the edges of the dome bristled with weapons and patrols. You could see the strength of the defenses even through the glass. It was a paradise guarded like a fortress.

We did not land there.

Instead, the Vertibird banked hard, spinning away and descending toward a much more utilitarian structure miles outside the perimeter.

A bunker, low and brutal, of cement and steel.

We were ushered out and through its yawning doors, down stark hallways lit by humming fluorescent tubes, and then onto a massive elevator platform that dropped us into darkness.

I could feel James’ fingers brush against mine, briefly.

The platform slowed, then stopped.

Another door, massive, round, familiar.

Steam hissed from vents as it unlocked with a grinding of gears and a thunderous clunk. The door rolled aside to reveal more steel and light beyond.

I turned to James with a wry smile, though my stomach was twisting.

“This is giving me déjà vu,” I said softly.

His lips quirked just a little, but his eyes stayed fixed on the vault ahead.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Let’s hope it ends better this time.”

Men in white coats waited on the other side of the vault door.

Without a word, they descended on us, waving strange metal wands that hummed and blinked. I flinched when one passed too close to my face.

“What are you scanning for?” I demanded.

No answer.

James tried too, voice firmer than mine. “Where are we? What is this place? Who are you people?”

Nothing.

The one with the clipboard just checked a box and moved on.

Then a woman appeared, tall and rigid in a biocontainment suit that made her look more like a machine than a person. She strode in, pointed at me, and beckoned.

“No,” I said, stepping closer to James. “Not without him.”

But guards flanked me before I could even think to resist, hands on my arms, the cold press of a rifle stock against my ribs.

James’ eyes found mine. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t move.

“Mia,” he murmured.

The woman in the suit didn’t wait. She turned and walked briskly down another corridor, expecting me to follow.

I swallowed hard and obeyed.

The room she led me into was stark white and buzzing faintly with electricity. In the center stood a glass cylinder, half of it open to the room, the other half embedded into the thick wall behind it.

“Strip,” she ordered through the muffling layers of her suit.

“What? Why? Where is James?” I demanded, but she simply pointed to the floor at my feet.

Heat burned in my chest, but my hands moved anyway, pulling off my clothing piece by piece. I felt her gaze on me the entire time.

When I stood bare, shivering, she pointed to the glass cylinder that was halfway embedded into the wall.

I stepped inside, hugging myself.

She moved to a control panel and without a word began pressing buttons.

The glass sealed shut.

A hiss.

Then the gas came.

Yellow, acrid, it filled my lungs, burned my throat and eyes, made me gag and stumble to my knees. My skin prickled and flushed, every pore screaming.

Just when I thought I couldn’t stand it anymore, water, icy, pressurized, blasted from above and below. I cried out at the cold and clawed at the glass, but it held fast.

Then came the air. It was a deafening rush that whipped my hair around my face, dried me in seconds, left me gasping.

Finally, the back of the cylinder slid open into another room.

A woman in a white lab coat waited there, already pulling on gloves. She didn’t look at my face, just pointed to a metal bed.

“Sit.”

Her hands were efficient, clinical. Scraping my fingernails, prodding my mouth, counting my teeth, checking my skin inch by inch. I felt stripped of more than clothing, my dignity flayed and cataloged.

When she was finished, she scribbled something on her clipboard.

“Move into the next room. Get dressed. Make yourself presentable,” she said flatly.

I frowned at her, but she didn’t even glance up.

The next room was… surreal.

A vanity mirror, styling tools neatly laid out, most of which I had never used before. On the bed was a dress of pale blue with stiff crinolines, low-heeled shoes set neatly below it.

I stared at it for a long moment.

It was ridiculous.

And yet…

My reflection stared back at me from the mirror, hollow-eyed but unbroken.

And as I slowly slipped the dress over my head, smoothing it over my hips, I felt a strange, quiet heat in my chest.

Despite everything, the gas, the water, the humiliation… I couldn’t help but notice… I liked what I saw.

I paced the tiny room, back and forth, back and forth, the soft click of my shoes on the polished floor echoing off the walls.

Every few minutes I tried the doors, both were steadfastly locked. Always locked.

I was just about ready to scream when one of them finally hissed open.

I didn’t even hesitate. I stepped through into a much larger space where several guards stood waiting with rifles in hand.

Across the room, another door opened, and there he was.

“James!”

I ignored the guards completely and ran to him. He caught me in his arms, and I buried my face in his chest, kissing him before I could even think.

“Are you all right”" I asked breathlessly.

He nodded, though his mouth twisted into a grimace. “I’ve never been… uh… anally probed before. Would not recommend it.”

I gave a weak laugh, despite myself. “Do you know what’s going on? What this place even is? Did anyone tell you anything?”

“No.” He shook his head. “No one will say a damn thing. Just tests. Scans. More tests.”

“Same here,” I muttered.

Before we could say more, one of the guards stepped forward and jabbed a gloved finger toward a large, glass cylinder lying horizontal on tracks. Inside were rows of padded seats.

“Get in,” he barked.

For a second, I thought about telling him exactly where he could shove his rifle, but James gave me a look that said not now, so I bit my tongue and climbed in.

We settled into the seats and the cylinder hissed shut around us.

It moved at first with a gentle hum, then picked up speed until the walls outside became a blur.

I pressed my hands into my lap and tried to keep breathing steadily.

Minutes passed before it began to slow. When it finally came to a stop, the glass cracked open, and more guards ushered us out.

More scans. A thumbs-up flashing on their Pip-Boys.

Another massive steel door groaned and unsealed ahead of us, leading to more guards, more scans, more thumbs up, and yet another horizontal cylinder on rails.

I was starting to feel like a package being shipped from one inspection point to another.

This one moved differently. We began with a slight incline, and I realized it was climbing.

When at last we emerged, light flooded in from the surface, and I couldn’t help myself. I pressed right up to the window.

My breath caught in my throat.

Outside, the landscape rolled past us, green hills dotted with wildflowers, pristine lakes glinting in the sun, waterfalls spilling from cliffs into clear rivers.

“It’s… beautiful,” I whispered.

James leaned close, staring out with the same mix of awe and disbelief.

It was nothing like the wasteland. It looked like heaven.

The cylinder curved gracefully toward a sprawling, modern building of glass and steel.

We slowed as we entered, the glass walls gleaming with golden light.

When we finally stopped and the door slid open, I stepped out into a luxurious foyer, my shoes sinking slightly into soft carpet.

It smelled faintly of flowers.

And for the first time in weeks, maybe longer, I felt something strange stir in my chest.

Hope.

A woman met us in the foyer, her silver dress flaring like a bell when she turned. She was… immaculate, like everything else here, her hair pinned into a smooth knot, her heels clicking softly on the tile.

“Come this way, please,” she said with a polite smile. “They are waiting for you.”

I frowned, glancing at James, then back to her. “Who is waiting for us?”

She didn’t answer. Just kept walking.

James gave me a look that said don’t push it, so we followed her through a corridor lined with windows that overlooked the lake.

When we stepped into what looked like a massive living room, I stopped dead in my tracks, and not because of the view.

It was her.

Sitting casually on a cream-colored couch, one long leg crossed over the other, a glass of water in her hand.

Barbara.

Behind her stood a tall man, Winston Gentry.

My breath hitched. I felt the blood drain from my face.

“Barbara…” My voice cracked. “How… how is it possible?”

She tilted her head at me, then slowly rose, smoothing the fabric of her dress as she did. Her movements were graceful. Effortless.

“How do you know me, Mia?” she asked, her voice calm and measured. “I’m sure you both remember Winston Gentry.”

James stepped forward but stopped halfway, his hand flexing at his side. He turned slightly, staring at me now.

“You… called her Barbara,” he said slowly. “Barbara Miller?”

I nodded, still staring at her.

Barbara… looked younger than she had the last time I had seen her. Younger, stronger. Like the years, and the bombs, had never touched her.

The last time I saw her was the day I was chosen. The day I left for Necropolis.

October 23, 2077.

Barbara studied me with a faint smile. Then she gracefully gestured toward the couch opposite her.

“Please,” she said. “Sit.”

James and I hesitated but did as we were told.

With another wave of her hand, a woman in a dark uniform appeared, carrying a tray with two crystal glasses of water.

She set them down before us and left without a word.

I stared at the glass in front of me. So clear. So clean it almost glowed.

I picked it up slowly, turning it in my fingers before finally looking up at Barbara.

“You have a lot to answer for,” I said.

She only smiled.

Barbara glanced at James, clearly liking what she saw and acted like this was some polite conversation at a cocktail party.

“We received a signal,” she began smoothly, “from the special vault in Necropolis. The seal had been opened. That vault was designed to open only when radiation levels had fallen enough and only from the inside. It caught us off guard. It took a few days to mobilize and send scouts. When they arrived, they found evidence that only two people had survived.”

Her eyes shifted deliberately to me and James.

“James Smith and Mia Taylor. We’ve been looking for you both ever since.”

I felt James shift beside me but stayed still, watching Barbara as she let the silence hang. Then she tilted her head, studying me.

“You never said,” she continued lightly, “how you know me.”

Something in my chest tightened.

I stood, walking to the window and letting my fingers rest lightly on the cool glass. I stared at the lake outside, the waterfalls gleaming in the sun’s light.

When I finally turned around, Barbara was still watching me with that same mild, unbothered expression. Winston stood silently behind her, his face unreadable.

“Your scouting team didn’t retrieve the computer logs?” I asked, my voice was steadier than I felt.

Winston finally spoke, his voice rumbled low. “Our priority was recovering you both before you became corrupted. We planned to return for the data later. We simply haven’t had the time yet."

I glanced briefly at James, then back at Barbara.

“Then you don’t know,” I said quietly.

Barbara’s brow arched just slightly. Winston tilted his head but said nothing.

I stepped closer, my hands curling at my sides.

“You don’t know that after they… separated our brains from our bodies, after they created the clones of us… the adhesive failed. You don’t know that the labels…  whose brain belonged to whom fell off. You wouldn’t know that when the clones were ready, they randomly put the brains into the clones.”

Barbara’s lips parted faintly, but she didn’t speak.

I took one last step forward, my gaze locked on hers.

“You ask how I know you, Barbara Miller,” I said, my voice like steel now.

“I was Charles.”

The room fell utterly silent, except for the faint hum of some hidden machine in the walls.

Barbara just… stared at me as though the strength had drained right out of her. One trembling hand rose to her mouth, and for the first time since I had seen her, she looked genuinely human.

“Charles…” she whispered through her fingers. “I… I was relieved when I heard it was Mia and James that survived and… Charles did not. I didn’t know… if I could ever face him. Not after… after all the lies.”

I stood there, arms crossed tightly, watching her struggle. My chest felt tight, but my voice was even.

“How are you both still alive after two hundred years?”

Barbara didn’t answer. She just stared at me, her lips pressed into a thin, white line.

It was Winston who spoke, his deep voice filling the silence.

“It was Barbara,” he said quietly, “who developed the cloning and brain transfer technology. We… used it on ourselves. Again, and again. Keeping ourselves alive. Young. She perfected the technique over decades while the rest of the world burned.”

He turned his gaze to James now, something calculating in his eyes.

“But if Mia is Charles… then who might you be?”

James shifted uncomfortably, avoiding both of their eyes. I could see the muscle in his jaw working before he finally spoke.

“I was Jennifer Moore,” he admitted, his voice low.

Winston winced at that, leaning back slightly as though the revelation stung him.

“It must have been quite the shock,” he murmured.

I didn’t look away from Barbara.

“Yes,” I said. “It was. Yet imagine my shock to find the letters that had survived the bombs. At our old home. In a sealed metal box, in a hidden compartment under where the bed once stood.”

Barbara’s head jerked up at that, her eyes wide with a flicker of panic.

“Letters?” she breathed.

I nodded slowly, savoring the way she paled.

“One,” I said, “was your invitation to join the Enclave in 2072. The other was about me. About you forcing Winston’s hand to admit me to the vault, against his better judgment. And about him… warning you to be ready. Ready for October 23, 2077.”

The silence after that was thick enough to choke on.

Barbara’s hand slipped from her mouth, but her fingers still trembled. Winston glanced between us all, his jaw tight.

I took another breath and let it out slowly, then stepped closer to the window, my voice soft but cold.

I glanced between the two of them, my fingers curling against my palms.

“You knew,” I said quietly, my voice trembling but hardening with each word. “You both knew the bombs were coming. That’s why Winston was so calm that day… when they herded us all into the conference room at RobCo, in Necropolis. You already had a way out. Already planned. Didn’t you?”

Barbara’s eyes glistened as she turned slowly to Winston, her face stricken but resolute.

“They should know the truth,” she said, her voice firmer now. “I’ve struggled with that truth for years. They deserve to know it… now that they’re here. You know we need them.”

I opened my mouth to ask what she meant. Need us for what? But Winston cut her off, his expression icy, his words as sharp as a blade.

“We owe them nothing,” he said coolly, each syllable deliberate. “The DNA capsule failed to reach us, and that has already set us back. But we don’t need them, not as they are. We just need their DNA.”

For a moment the room was utterly silent, the words hanging in the air like ash after a fire. My breath hitched in my throat as the meaning settled over me, cold and heavy.

“Just… our DNA?” I repeated, my eyes narrowing.

Winston didn’t flinch.

“That is all that remains of value to the project,” he said.

Barbara turned her gaze to me then, softer, full of something that almost looked like regret. But she didn’t deny it. She studied us silently for a long moment, her arms crossed, her eyes narrowing just slightly as if calculating something. Then she finally turned to Winston.

“If you’re serious about what’s best for the Enclave,” she said, her voice measured but with a faint edge, “then it would be foolish not to add them into the fold properly. Mia is an engineer, clearly resourceful enough to have survived out there. We could use her skills. And I… could collaborate with James on our particular situation.”

The way she said collaborate with James made my stomach knot, though I caught the faintest flicker of defiance in her eyes when she glanced back at me. It was not possessive, it almost felt like she was shielding us.

Barbara pressed on before Winston could object. “If nothing else, give them some time to acclimate. They’ve been surviving like feral animals for weeks, and you expect them to understand the vision overnight? Let them meet the others. Let them see the work we’re doing. Then… then we can all make a more… informed decision.”

Winston considered her words for a long moment, then gave a shallow nod. “Fine. One week. They will remain under your supervision, Barbara. Organize their time wisely. Do not waste it.”

He strode out of the room without looking back.

I turned to James, the questions bursting out of me before I could stop them, but Barbara raised her hand sharply. “Not here,” she hissed, her voice low but firm.

She swept toward the door and gestured for us to follow. We fell in step behind her, passing through wide corridors that gleamed with impossible cleanliness, the scent of flowers clinging faintly to the hyper-clean air.

When we emerged outside, the daylight was softening into early afternoon. The perfectly manicured pathways stretched out ahead of us, curving along the edge of the lake. I caught my reflection on its glassy surface as we walked, this version of me in the strange dress, hair neat and face clean, looking like a stranger.

We passed towering green trees, flowers in neat rows, the faint murmur of water cascading from some hidden fountain. A few people in white uniforms nodded politely as we passed but said nothing.

Barbara finally stopped before a house at the far end of the path.

It took my breath away.

The house was almost familiar. The design was uncannily like the one Barbara and I had once shared, though here it was clearly updated, sleeker, more luxurious. Large windows glinted in the sun. The door was flanked by tall hedges sculpted into perfect cones.

Barbara glanced back at me, her expression difficult to read. “This is yours. For now.”

Barbara gestured for us to sit in a pair of wide, cushioned chairs on the terrace, just steps from the lake. The water shimmered in the fading light, so calm and perfect it looked unreal. I sank down carefully, adjusting the puffy skirt of the dress as though it were second nature now.

When I glanced up, I caught a flicker of something, confusion, maybe even sadness in Barbara’s eyes as she watched me smooth the fabric over my knees.

She sat opposite us, crossed one elegant leg over the other, and let her gaze drift briefly across the water before she spoke.

“I wanted to give you both some time,” she said quietly, “to understand the predicament you’re in and the predicament the Enclave is in.”

She paused, her voice soft but edged with something sharp.

“You cannot imagine what it is like to live here. To share this space with fifty people for over two centuries. You learn everything about them. Their habits. What drives them. Their faults. Every grievance, every secret, every disappointment… becomes part of you, whether you want it to or not.”

Her eyes dropped to where James’s hand had found mine, our fingers lightly tangled in the space between us. She stared at them for a long moment before continuing.

“I suspected you two might have a deeper… relationship.”

I opened my mouth to speak, to explain, or maybe defend, but she held up her hand.

“I’m not here to judge either of you. I cannot even imagine what you’ve endured out there. And for what it is worth…” her voice cracked just faintly here, though her face remained composed, “I’m sorry.”

James tilted his head and frowned at her. His voice was calm but tinged with heat.

“Sorry for what?” he asked. “For lying to Charles? For hiding your work? Did you know…”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening, then finished.

“…did you know that Mia risked her life repeatedly just to find you? To at least confirm you hadn’t… suffered?”

Barbara’s lips parted, but no words came at first. Instead, she simply stared at us, the polished mask she wore every moment here in this paradise finally beginning to slip.

I felt the words bubbling up before I even realized I was speaking. My voice sounded strange to my own ears, steady, but low, carrying all the emotions of my fear and confusion from the past weeks.

“October 23, 2077,” I began. Barbara’s gaze flicked to me, her posture tensing slightly.

“I got the message on my Pip-Boy that morning. I was chosen. I remember that day as if it were just weeks ago… because, for us, that’s what it has been, even if it feels like a lifetime has passed since we woke up.”

I straightened my back, feeling James’s thumb brush lightly against my knuckles as if grounding me.

“I remember my excitement. I thought it meant all my hard work was finally recognized. That I had earned it. That someone saw me.”

Her lips tightened, but I pressed on.

“But it wasn’t that, was it? It was you. I found the letter, Barbara. I know now you arranged my selection. You lied so well… so completely. I never knew you worked. I never knew you were anything other than the perfect homemaker. Did you even love me at all?”

That last question came out sharper than I intended, and for a moment she just stared at me. Her jaw tightened as her fingers gripped the armrest of her chair.

“I did everything for us, Charles…” she said finally, the name tasting bitter on her tongue. Then she corrected herself with a hint of disdain and pain intertwined, “Mia.”

Her tone grew brittle, her words clipped now, as though every syllable was a defense she had rehearsed for decades.

“Everything. I had always been gifted in biological sciences. You…” she gestured vaguely, almost dismissively, “you were good. Kind. Hardworking. But we bought that house on the hill and stretched ourselves thin just to keep up appearances. We played at being the perfect family. Happy. Successful. And I…"

Her voice faltered just a moment before she regained it, “I was miserable. Playing the dutiful housewife. Baking casseroles and hosting neighbors while my mind atrophied. Then an opportunity came. I could work. I could use my mind. At first, it was just extra income… a way to help us keep that house. But when the Enclave saw what I could really do… they adopted me fully into their ranks. And when I learned what was coming…”

Her eyes hardened then, locking on mine, daring me to flinch.

“When we knew the war was imminent, I secured a place for you. I forced them to put you in that vault. I knew I would be safe here, but they refused to take you. You have no idea what these people are like, what they would have done to me if I had pushed harder. But I made sure you were safe.”

She leaned back slightly, as if her confession had drained her.

“It… it was the least I could do. Because, yes, I did love you,” she finished softly.

Her hands were trembling now, though she tried to hide it by folding them in her lap.

James shifted beside me but said nothing. I stared at her, unsure what to feel. Anger, betrayal, grief, gratitude. Maybe all of it at once.

My voice cracked before I even finished my first sentence. I tried to swallow it down, but it only made the words sharper, more jagged, as they spilled out.

“When I went to the meeting that day… when Winston told us about the bombs… when they locked the doors and threatened us to go into the vault…”

I looked down.

“My only thoughts were of you. I kept thinking… were you able to get to safety? Maybe you managed to flee to another vault.”

Barbara lowered her gaze as I spoke, but I couldn’t stop now.

“As we were shoved through the preparation rooms, when the bombs above shook the vault and dust rained down on us… I could only pray you weren’t caught in it. Then… I woke up like this.”

My hand trembled as I gestured to myself, to the dress, the body that was mine but unfamiliar at first.

“As confused as I was, I was still worried for you. But… in that vault… I was the only one alive. There was death all around me. The smell, the silence…”

I bit my lip to keep it from quivering.

“So many times I just wanted to end it. To stop waking up every day to nothing but corpses and echoes. But…” I turned my head slightly, my eyes meeting James’s steady gaze, “it was James who saved me. Time and time again, until I found the courage to live again.”

Barbara nodded slowly, her earlier fire hollowed out now, her hands folded tightly in her lap.

“I knew it was possible… theoretically,” she murmured. Her eyes flitted over me, faint surprise there.

“You seem… comfortable. And if…” she glanced at James, her voice softening, “if you really have become Mia in many ways… are you happy? Are you truly at peace with who you are? I could ask the same of you, James.”

James’s jaw tightened slightly, but he answered, his voice edged with mistrust, but also something deeper, resolve.

“I think the mistake of waking up as James was far easier on me than it was for Mia. I was much like you once, Barbara. I worked. I endured. But I lived with a man who felt threatened by me, who beat me because it made him feel bigger. I never felt better than the day I woke as James, knowing he was dead and gone. Waking up stronger, finally a man in a man’s world? That was a gift.”

I looked down at my hands as they fiddled with the stiff folds of the dress, feeling their gazes on me.

“Happy?” I asked finally, letting the word hang in the air like ash.

I took a breath.

“Happiness is hard to find in the wastelands. But… I did find it. Even just pieces of it.”

My eyes slid back to James, and I gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“I was ashamed of the man I had been. Weak, selfish, blind. But James… he’s not like the men from 2077. And for that… I have grown to love who I am now. Love the life I’ve managed to carve out. And even to love him.”

James gave me the smallest smile at that.

I let go of the dress, my voice steadying at last.

“But waking up to a world devastated by nuclear war? Fighting raiders who shoot bullets made from teeth? Being attacked by giant toads and cockroaches the size of dogs? Being captured and nearly turned into a breeding slave? Having my old self’s husband, now a ghoul, try to… renew relations with me?”

I let out a bitter laugh and shook my head.

“That is not life the way I ever envisioned it. But I have come to accept that life isn’t about the things I once thought were important. Not anymore.”

Barbara just stared at me, her eyes glinting with something, grief, regret, admiration, it was hard to tell.

The silence between us now felt thick, full of everything unspoken.

Barbara nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on the lake, the faint ripple of water reflecting the perfect dome of sky above us.

“I’m happy for you,” she said finally. Her voice was quiet, but it carried. “I’m happy you found each other.”

I swallowed, unsure if it was my place to ask, but the words slipped out anyway. “Does it… bother you? At all?”

Barbara turned her head toward me, her lips curved into something that was not quite a smile. “Unlike you, Mia, I lived two hundred years knowing if I ever saw you again, it could never be the same. I came to terms with that a long time ago.”

She let her hands rest on her knees, fingers loose, unbothered.

“You were a good husband to me. Better than I could have hoped for. But after what happened… after the world ended… I was forced to move on. Not with someone else. Just with the realization that the life we had was gone. That version of me, of us… it died. The Enclave taught me that this isn’t about reinstating the same age-old patterns. There is no normal anymore.”

I nodded faintly, though a knot had formed in my chest.

Barbara straightened her back and faced us fully now, her eyes sharper. “But… before I get into all that, there’s something you both need to know. Why we looked for you specifically.”

James shifted beside me, his hand finding mine again, more out of instinct than anything else.

Barbara took a breath.

“The Enclave was designed to be self-sustaining indefinitely. That was the entire point: to preserve the very best of humanity after the war and rebuild when the world was ready. At first, everything worked flawlessly. The fifty of us here… we underwent the same cloning and brain-transfer process you both did.”

Her hands folded in her lap now, and she stared down at them.

“We believed we had mastered immortality. The first clones lasted a hundred years. They were strong, healthy, and stable. We didn’t even consider reusing our original DNA samples. We thought our improved clones were superior.”

Barbara’s voice darkened, a brittle edge creeping in.

“But when it came time to clone again, we discovered the truth. The original DNA… had begun to decay and was unusable. Our clone DNA was also substandard. Subtle flaws at first, but catastrophic over time. The second-generation clones only lived fifty years before failure. The third… only twenty-five.”

She paused, letting that sink in.

“Combine that with accidents, disease, gluttony, excessive drinking and liver failure, mistakes, madness, and we are now down to thirty-one of the original fifty.”

Her eyes lifted and locked on mine, clear and unflinching.

“We need an influx of new DNA. Yours, and James’.”

I stared at my hand, turning it over slowly.

“Those of us… that went to RobCo that day and into the vault,” I said finally, my voice quiet but steady. “Winston said we were selected. Chosen. But that is not really true, is it? We were what, exactly?”

Barbara hesitated. Her mouth tightened before she spoke.

“Backup,” she admitted. “We ran out of time, and at the last minute decided we needed additional DNA, just in case. We prepared a launch from your facility, your vault, to send all the chosen DNA here. But once the bombs fell… that launch failed. It never made it to us.”

Her eyes softened slightly, though her posture stayed rigid. “If anything had happened to the Enclave, then your vault would have been the ones to repopulate the world.”

James leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, his brow furrowed. “But now… now you need our DNA to preserve you, the people of the Enclave?”

Barbara nodded, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

James let out a bitter laugh. “Why just us? Why not use DNA from people in other vaults? There are thousands of them out there. Surely someone…”

Barbara stood abruptly and began to pace, her heels clicking softly against the polished stone as she stared out over the water. For a long moment she said nothing, and then finally, still not looking at us, she answered.

“They are inferior,” she said, the words clipped and sharp. “The vaults were nothing more than underground survival bubbles for those who could afford it. It was their money that paid for this place to exist.”

She turned then, her eyes meeting mine, unflinching.

“Each vault, capable of housing one hundred and fifty people, became a cesspool of inbreeding after ten generations. Their survival was never the point, not to the people of the Enclave. They were a funding mechanism. Nothing more.”

Barbara’s gaze hardened, her chin lifting. “Yes, we could use their DNA, but the ones that have surfaced did so thirty years ago. They have lived exposed to the radiation for decades. Tainted. Corrupted. No one here would deem themselves worthy of such degradation.”

James’s jaw clenched, his hand tightening around mine, and I felt my pulse quicken under the weight of her words.

I could see it written in her face, the quiet, unquestioning hints of superiority, the belief that they alone deserved to inherit what was left of the world.

For the first time, I wondered if we had not just stumbled into another kind of vault. A prettier cage, but a cage all the same.

My eyes narrowed as Barbara spoke. My chest rose and fell as though every breath was a fight.

“This all sounds so… planned,” I said, my voice low but sharp. “You knew about the war coming. You knew the day. The hour. Everything.”

Barbara stared at me evenly, though her hands fidgeted. “Go ahead,” she said quietly. “Ask the question I know you want to ask.”

I did not hesitate. I rose to my feet, my hands balling into fists at my sides.

“Was it you?” My voice cracked, but I did not care. “Was it the people of the Enclave that…” I bit down on my fury, but the words came anyway. “That destroyed the world?”

Barbara closed her eyes, took a long, heavy breath. And then she opened them, looking straight into mine.

“Yes,” she said simply. “It was the Enclave that launched the bombs. It was us.”

I felt James rise beside me, his arm sliding around my waist instinctively, grounding me. His jaw was tight, his voice trembling with rage.

“It’s unfathomable,” he said, his tone hard as steel. “That you all chose to play God. That you… what? Decided to restart the world in your own image? You erased everything. Entire cities, generations… children. Granted the world was far from perfect, but this…”

I could feel his words falter under the weight of his anger, so I finished for both of us.

“And now you want us,” I hissed, “to help the very people who are the most heinous mass murderers in human history. To save the monsters who killed everyone we ever loved.”

Barbara sat down heavily, her shoulders shaking. For the first time, I saw her break. Her hands covered her face as sobs escaped her.

Between her tears, she spoke, her voice hoarse, cracking.

“No,” she choked out. “No… I don’t want you to help us. I want you to help me destroy the Enclave.”

James and I exchanged a look of disbelief, but also something else.

Barbara dropped her hands, her cheeks wet and her eyes red. She stared at me, then at James, her voice dropping to almost a whisper.

“I knew… a year before the bombs fell… what they were planning. I was weak. Controlled. They never would have let me leave… not alive. You don’t understand what these people are capable of. They’re ruthless. Powerful. Greedy. And I… I didn’t have the strength to stop them.”

Her lips quivered as she looked back out at the perfect lake, the manicured trees beyond it.

“I have lived two hundred years staring out of this prison at the devastation we caused. And I have hated myself. Every. Single. Day.”

For a moment, we were silent, except for the faint sound of water lapping at the shore outside. I stared at her, my chest tight, my mind a blur of rage, grief, and something I could not yet name.

Barbara… the woman I had once loved… was now asking me to help destroy the world she had built.

And for the first time in a long time… I was not sure what my answer would be.

 

***

 

Barbara left us for the night, the faint click of the door echoing in the quiet.

James and I stood just inside the house, staring like we had stumbled into a dream, or maybe a hallucination from bad water. After weeks of rust, radiation, bitter water, and the smell of rot clinging to everything we touched, this seemed… impossible.

The air smelled faintly of lavender and soap. On the table sat fresh fruits and vegetables, gleaming in the soft light. A pitcher of water sat next to a plate of sliced meat that neither wriggled nor stank. When I reached out and touched the fabric of the couch, it felt soft and warm, like something from another world.

We ate in silence, drinking deep from the clear water, chewing slowly on meat that did not crunch like chitin or taste of iron. My mind kept stalling on the thought: What does all this mean?

As the sun slipped behind the dome and painted the lake in streaks of gold and copper, we settled on the couch. James finally spoke, his voice low.

“Do you trust her?”

I swallowed, staring at the untouched bowl of berries between us. “That seems to be the common theme these days,” I said. “I trust you. That’s it.”

James nodded, his gaze distant for a moment before returning to me. “It must be hard,” he said softly. “Seeing Barbara again.”

I leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “I still have feelings for her,” I admitted, my throat tight. “But not love. How can I love someone who did this? Who lied about everything? Part of me is just… thankful she’s alive, and another part wishes I could remember her the way she was before all this. Before the lies.”

I turned to face him. “But the fact is, we never had what you and I have. I didn’t know any better then. And I’m starting to think… neither did she.”

James pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me as we sank into the cushions. His warmth steadied me, and I felt my tension slowly untangle.

“I feel guilty,” he murmured into my hair. “This place is heaven on earth compared to what’s outside the dome.”

I nodded against his chest. “I want to see more of it,” I said. “And meet the rest of the Enclave. See if what Barbara said about them is true. But anyone who could do what they did, who chose to, doesn’t deserve to keep living. We’ll play it safe, for now. But deep down… these people need to be punished. And maybe we’re the ones who can make that happen.”

He kissed my temple and pulled me tighter.

When we finally went to bed, we still smelled faintly of soap, our skin still sparkly clean. The sheets were soft and cool.

As I drifted off, James whispered into the darkness, his breath warm on my ear.

“I love you, Mia Taylor.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I fell asleep smiling.

 

***

 

Morning came early, the faint hum of the dome stirring me awake even before the sun had fully risen. The air smelled clean, too clean, and it left me uneasy. I rolled out of bed to find a row of dresses hanging neatly in the armoire. No trousers, no boots, nothing remotely practical. Just frills and hems and delicate little shoes lined up on the floor beneath them.

I stared at them for a long time before finally choosing the least offensive of the bunch, a dark blue one that allowed me to walk without tripping. The silky fabric still felt strange against my skin after weeks of coarse wasteland clothes.

James met me in the living room, already dressed in sharp slacks and a white shirt that looked freshly pressed. He raised an eyebrow at me but said nothing, just offering me a faint, understanding smirk.

We ate a quiet breakfast, though my appetite was dulled by the sight of fruit piled in a crystal bowl and meat that was neither scorched nor crawling away on tiny legs. Every bite I took reminded me of what lay outside this dome. Every bite tasted like guilt.

Barbara arrived just as I set down my fork. She stepped inside like she owned the air itself, her silver dress shimmering in the morning light. “I hope you both rested well,” she said, her tone light, almost mocking. “You’ve had a trying few weeks.”

I ignored her banter. I was in no mood to play politely. “I’m not sure we can fully trust you,” I said bluntly, my voice steadier than I felt. “You’re asking for our help to destroy the Enclave. Hasn’t enough damage been done? Enough lives lost… or irrevocably altered? Of what good would it be to kill a few more people, even if they deserve the worst of punishments.”

Barbara’s smile faded, and for the first time that morning, I saw the weariness behind her perfect exterior. She lowered her eyes slightly and nodded. “I understand your hesitation,” she said quietly.

She straightened then, hands clasped in front of her, and the steel returned to her voice. “Today I will introduce you to the Enclave members. Some will not be happy you are here. Others…” She gave a small, wry smile. “…will try to convince you to join us. To become part of their vision. Their… legacy.”

James shifted uncomfortably beside me, but I held Barbara’s gaze.

She finally turned toward the door and gestured for us to follow. “We will revisit your questions at the end of the day,” she said over her shoulder. “It’s time for you both to meet who decided the fate of the world.”

I swallowed hard and fell into step behind her, the click of her heels leading us deeper into the belly of the Enclave, and into the company of the people who once imagined themselves gods.

Barbara led us out into the morning light, and I could almost, almost pretend this place was real. The air was sweet, the grass impossibly green, and the lake shimmered like glass as we followed her along the meandering path.

No giant mutant frogs lunged from the water. No gunfire crackled in the distance. Only the faint hum of unseen machines keeping it all alive.

We passed fields where sleek, single-headed cattle grazed lazily, tails swishing. Even James slowed to stare at them. “This…” he muttered, shaking his head. “…looks like the world before the bombs.”

Then he spotted people bent in the fields, picking vegetables and maintaining irrigation lines. Others in jumpsuits polished the walkways and checked panels on the dome’s inner walls.

James stopped walking and asked what I had been thinking. “Who are those people? Surely, they’re not Enclave members.”

Barbara didn’t even slow her pace. She simply nodded. “They’re servants to the Enclave,” she said. “People who were trusted. The Enclave members wanted to keep their servants close, and the servants… well… they were blessed to avoid the fallout of nuclear radiation.”

I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “Why would the Enclave not use their DNA then?” I asked, watching one of the workers glance up at us before quickly lowering his gaze again.

Barbara stopped this time and looked back at me, rolling her eyes as though I had asked the stupidest question in the world. “Please,” she said dryly. “Do you really think the self-proclaimed masters of the universe would deem themselves desperate enough to mix their genes with someone they consider substandard?”

I shook my head slowly. “And yet they want our DNA.”

Barbara’s lips curled into a faint, bitter smile. “You were all specifically chosen,” she replied. “Hand-selected for your intelligence, your skills, your beauty… your potential. You were a backup plan. In many ways, you were all vastly superior to the Enclave members even though they would never admit it.” She paused, her gaze drifting to the distant horizon. “And yes, they’re getting desperate.”

We walked on in silence after that.

Barbara eventually led us into a vast hangar where five enormous Vertibirds gleamed under bright lights. They dwarfed the rusted, battered craft that had carried us here.

“These,” she said, her voice echoing, “are the emergency transportation units. Built larger and more modern than anything else we’ve put into the air. Unlimited range, thanks to fusion drives. Each carries a complete biolibrary of plants and animals, seeds, embryos, DNA samples. Everything needed to begin again. If this facility is ever compromised, these will take the Enclave to a backup site.”

She let that sink in, then stepped closer to me, lowering her voice so James couldn’t hear. “I placed a manual on how to fly these in the nightstand of your bedroom,” she murmured, her breath warm on my ear.

My head snapped toward her, but she was already straightening, her expression neutral again as she glanced at the towering glass of the dome.

“They were designed to be flown by anyone,” she added, her voice louder now. “However…” she met my eyes squarely, “…you can’t just fly them out of here. The dome has to be opened first.”

She turned on her heel then, and we followed her deeper into the hangar, my fingers absently brushing against my Pip-Boy as if it could somehow steady me.

And all I could think about was that manual waiting back in the house.

Barbara led us down another immaculate hallway, this one lined with glittering sconces and soft carpet beneath our feet, until she stopped in front of a pair of polished double doors.

The moment she pushed them open I was assaulted by the sight and the smell of excess.

The room was enormous and pristine, a long, polished table stretching nearly from end to end. The table gleamed with crystal glasses, fine china, and silver cutlery. Servants in crisp uniforms scurried around, adjusting platters laden with fruits, roasted meats, and delicate pastries the people outside of this place hadn’t seen in two centuries.

Around the room mingled at least thirty men and women, each dressed like they had stepped off the cover of some long-forgotten fashion magazine. Bright silks, tailored suits, perfectly coiffed hair.

Barbara motioned for us to follow her further in.

She stopped just beyond the threshold and raised her voice. “Everyone,” she called, her tone commanding but graceful, “may I present to you… Mia Taylor and James Smith.”

All eyes turned on us.

And my breath caught.

I recognized some of them immediately. Winston was there of course, sipping from a glass of wine as though nothing in the world could touch him. But others too, faces I had only ever seen on magazine covers before the war. Doctors whose names echoed in scientific circles, executives from Vault-tec and RobCo, men and women who had once wielded unimaginable power over the world.

It was the elite of the elite.

And they were all staring at us.

They moved in quickly, like wolves circling prey.

Several of the women were on James almost immediately, laughing too loudly at anything he said, brushing their hands along his arm as though they had every right to touch him.

Men circled me in much the same way, leaning close, their eyes lingering where they shouldn’t, asking pointed questions about my “experiences” outside the dome.

I felt my face heat as their flirtations became bolder, their eyes sharp and greedy.

For a moment, just a moment, I wanted to bolt. To shove them all aside and run back into the wasteland where at least the monsters were honest about what they were.

A few of them hung back, sullen, watching us with narrowed eyes and thinly disguised contempt. Others merely looked at us with detached curiosity, as though we were specimens in a zoo.

Barbara’s voice cut through the chatter. “Dinner is served.”

The servants hurried to pull out chairs as the thirty-one Enclave members made their way to the long table, the buzz of conversation swelling again.

I felt a sharp tug at my arm.

One of the women, tall, red-haired, draped in a shimmering gown, tried to pull James away from me, already steering him toward a chair at the opposite end of the table.

Not this time.

I reached out and grabbed his hand hard enough that he startled and turned back toward me.

“Sit with me,” I whispered.

He hesitated for only a moment before giving me a tiny smile and letting me guide him to the nearest pair of seats side by side.

I sat down quickly, still clutching his hand under the table, ignoring the glares and whispers from the woman who had tried to claim him.

I kept my gaze on the gleaming silverware in front of me, trying to calm the hammering of my heart.

This was their world. Glittering, perfect, and suffocating.

And I was already counting down the minutes until we could escape it.

I sat stiffly at the table, my fork motionless in my hand as the room filled with clinking glasses, laughter, and the occasional barked order at one of the servants.

Some of them devoured their food like animals, meat juices running down their fingers, bread torn in chunks, wine spilling onto the pristine linens. Others barely touched their plates, swirling their wine lazily and staring through the walls as though bored beyond reason.

Most, however, occupied themselves with tormenting the servants.

One man demanded his lamb be “less dry” and sent it back three times. A woman clicked her tongue and made a young man polish her glass twice before she took a sip. Every command was sharp, dismissive.

These were the people who had unleashed hell on the world. They had no remorse. No acknowledgment of the cost.

I kept telling myself that as I watched them play at being royalty, because the alternative was to believe they actually believed they deserved all of this.

I felt a foot sliding up my calf under the table.

I froze.

When I looked up, the blonde woman across from me, draped in sequins and diamonds that sparkled even under the soft light, was smiling at me.

“I remember your movies, Mia,” she purred. “Perhaps we can reenact some scenes in my home this evening.”

Before I could respond, a man next to me leaned closer, his breath hot and sour on my cheek.

“Maybe the three of us can get together,” he murmured.

The blonde huffed and rolled her eyes.

“As if I would waste my time with you, Walter,” she shot back.

On my other side, another woman leaned toward James, her fingers trailing down his arm.

“You are as brave as you are handsome,” she murmured. “Tell me more about how you survived out there. It must have been… exhilarating.”

My stomach churned.

I set my fork down a little too hard and looked up, my voice cutting through the hum of the room.

“While we were in stasis for two hundred years,” I asked, “what did we miss? What was it like to be here when the bombs went off?”

For a moment the chatter stilled.

Then one man at the end of the table threw his head back and laughed.

“It was like the best fireworks display ever,” he crowed.

But another man, one I had noticed earlier, sitting sullen and alone with dark, restless eyes, spoke up then.

“Imagine,” he said quietly, his fork still poised above his plate, “being stuck here with the same people for hundreds of years. Watching them all get uglier inside every year that passed. I’ve wanted to go outside for decades. But they won’t let me. They say it’s too dangerous.”

He met my eyes across the table.

“How dangerous is it, really, Mia?”

I opened my mouth, but Barbara’s voice cut through before I could answer.

“Mia. James.”

She was already standing.

“We have more to see.”

I felt every pair of eyes on us as we rose.

“Thank you for your time today, everyone,” Barbara said evenly, though the tightness in her smile didn’t escape me.

James placed a reassuring hand on my back as Barbara led us from the room, her heels clicking against the tile, the heavy double doors closing behind us.

Outside the building, the crisp air hit my face like a blessing.

Barbara said nothing as she walked us back through the manicured pathways toward the little home assigned to us.

And neither did I.

Not yet.

We stepped inside the house, the door clicking shut behind us. I leaned back against it for a moment, trying to catch my breath. The polished floor beneath my feet felt cold even through the heels they had given me.

Barbara turned, her hands clasped neatly in front of her.

“Well?” she asked softly. “Your first impressions?”

James didn’t even hesitate. He started pacing the room in tight circles, his shoulders tense.

“They are horrible,” he spat. “I feel like I need a shower just breathing the same air as them. The way they look at you, Mia… at both of us, like we’re… toys. Tools. Property.”

I nodded, though my chest still burned.

“I couldn’t possibly want to help them,” I added, my voice sharper than I intended. “How could they laugh about what they did? How could they look at us with such… entitlement? After everything?”

Barbara’s eyes dropped to the floor.

“Then,” she said quietly, “I suspect you will not be pleased to hear that they are planning on doing it all over again.”

Her words froze me where I stood. My throat tightened as I glared at her. “What?” I hissed.

She just nodded, her face pale and calm in that infuriating way of hers.

“They were not happy that people survived,” she said. “By now, they expected to be out in the world already. Repopulating it. Reshaping it. But the radiation lasted longer than they had hoped. It caused more mutations than they anticipated. And the people… they’ve become what you saw. Ruthless. Nothing more than savage beasts in their eyes.”

I felt my fists clench at my sides.

“The people out there are ruthless because they have nothing,” I shot back. “Because you took everything from them. The world was set back thousands of years. Everyone out there is just trying to survive.”

Barbara’s eyes flicked up, and for once there was no defense in them. Just quiet agreement.

“I know,” she said softly. “And yet… over the past two hundred years, they have developed new bombs. Better bombs, in their minds. Weapons that kill without leaving radiation behind. This time they believe they will do it right.”

James stopped pacing and stared at her, his face pale.

“When?” he demanded. “When will they do it?”

Barbara closed her eyes for a moment before answering.

“More than a month,” she said. “But two at the most. They plan to return to your vault first, to see if they can salvage any viable DNA there. Then they will raid the other vaults. They will take whatever they deem ‘the best’ DNA they can find. And once they believe they have what they need to survive… they will destroy the world all over again.”

I shook my head slowly, my mind reeling, my pulse roaring in my ears.

“All those people out there,” I whispered. “Children. Mothers. People just trying to scrape by…”

I turned my gaze on her fully then, my voice breaking through the silence like a blade.

“You asked for our help to destroy the Enclave. So, tell me, Barbara.”

I stepped closer, close enough to see the glimmer of fear, or hope, in her eyes.

“What can we do?”

 

***

 

The next morning arrived on silent feet.

Barbara’s words from the day before clung to me all through the long night, it will take all of us to bring down the Enclave. And yet she had told us almost nothing.

James and I stayed in the house, our little gilded cage, pretending to relax while quietly gathering anything that looked useful. There wasn’t much to take. I stashed food into a small satchel, a canteen of clean water, a few changes of clothing. James unearthed a sturdy kitchen knife and slipped it through his belt.

I spent most of the day sitting by the window, pouring over the manual Barbara had hidden in our nightstand. To my relief, and slight horror, the Vertibirds were made idiot-proof. Automatic takeoff and landing. A panel of simple navigation presets. Automated stabilization. Pre-stocked supplies for extended flights. Apparently even the Enclave expected to run for their lives without wanting to know what they were doing.

All I needed, it seemed, was a code to unlock the damn thing. And for the dome to open, something that hadn’t happened in over two centuries.

Barbara arrived late in the afternoon, her usual composure cracking at the edges.

“We can’t wait any longer,” she told us. “We have to act tomorrow, before sunrise.”

James and I exchanged a look, and he asked the question first.

“Why the rush? I thought you said we had time.”

Barbara shook her head.

“I’ve stalled them as long as I can. The others… they’re growing impatient. Winston especially. He doesn’t like how much attention you’ve drawn. The dynamic here has been carefully, ruthlessly, maintained for two hundred years. You two are… disrupting that. Halverson, the one you spoke with at dinner, is demanding to leave. Winston won’t allow it and is pushing the others to… to place you both in stasis. Taking only your DNA as needed while you sleep until you die.”

I shivered and folded my arms over my chest.

“What is the plan?” James asked, voice low and steady.

Barbara straightened, smoothing her skirt as though gathering her courage.

“At six a.m., you both will make your way down to the Vertibird platform. Look for number four. That’s your ticket out of here.”

She pressed a small card into my palm, heavy, metallic, warm from her touch.

“Your code to unlock it,” she said softly.

I stared down at it, then looked up.

“And then?” I asked.

“At precisely six,” she continued, “I will open the dome. You must leave as soon as it opens wide enough for you to slip through. Do not wait. Do not look back. Number four is ready to go. It is stocked and programmed with a route. Follow it until you’re safe.”

I held her gaze.

“What about you?”

Her silence was louder than anything she’d said yet.

“I’m not coming with you,” she said at last.

James took a step towards her. “Barbara…”

“There is more to do,” she interrupted, her voice tight. “Once you’re clear, I have to make sure the rest of the Vertibirds are… decommissioned. Permanently.”

Her eyes met mine, shimmering faintly with unshed tears.

“Promise me,” she whispered, “that you two will look out for each other. Especially you, James. Take care of Mia. You’ve both already lost so much and I don’t want you to lose anything more.”

Her arms went around me suddenly, and I froze for a moment before returning the hug. Then she hugged James, more briefly, before stepping back and wiping her cheeks.

“Be there before six,” she said, pressing my fingers around the code.

Then she turned and walked out into the deepening dusk, her footsteps fading into silence.

 

***

 

We were ready before the sun even thought of rising.

Neither of us had slept, not even a minute. I could feel James’ energy humming beside me in the dark, quiet house. He kept glancing at the clock as though sheer willpower might slow it down.

At five-thirty sharp, we grabbed what little we had and slipped into the dome-moderated temperature of the predawn morning. The compound was silent, unnervingly so, not even the faint drone of the lake pumps or the quiet chatter of servants in the distance.

The path to the Vertibird pad seemed to stretch forever, each footstep echoing in my head.

But then we heard it, a low, mechanical growl. Heavy. Metallic.

James and I froze, ducking off the paved trail into a stand of manicured shrubs. I crouched low, the branches scratching at my arms, and peered out toward the pad.

There it was.

Vertibird number four sat waiting, sleek and black under the pale glow of the dome lights. The hatch door gleamed faintly, the escape route so close I could almost feel it.

But then came the thump… thump… THUMP.

From the shadows on the far side of the pad, a T-60 power armor lumbered into view.

James put a hand on my shoulder and leaned in so close I could feel the warmth of his breath.
 “There weren’t guards here last time,” I murmured.

He fiddled with his Pip-Boy, dimming the screen until it barely glowed. Then he showed me the time. Five minutes to six.

His eyes met mine, full of questions and frustration and fear. “What are we going to do, Mia?”

I stared at the towering suit of power armor. My hands balled into fists at my sides.

Then I yanked at the crinoline beneath my dress, ripping them out with a loud snick of tearing fabric, just like James had done for me the day we woke up. I handed him my satchel and the ruined fabric.

“Give me the knife.”

James’ expression darkened. “You can’t be serious.”

“Now,” I hissed.

Reluctantly, he pulled the knife from his belt and handed it to me, his fingers brushing mine for the briefest second.

I pointed toward the T-60. “The hoses on the back. They are hydraulic lines. If I cut them, he’s paralyzed.”

“Mia…”

But I was already moving.

I slipped from the bushes like a shadow, my bare feet silent against the cold pavement. The world seemed to slow, every breath loud in my ears.

The T-60 shifted slightly, scanning the area, its servos whining. I edged closer, closer. I could see the lines, thick and lightly armored, running down near the neck.

Then it turned.

“Halt!” The mechanical voice boomed through the pad, echoing off the dome.

But I didn’t stop. I dropped low, rolling beneath the sweep of its massive arms and guns. The ground scraped my knees, but I came up behind it, clambering onto its back like a wild animal.

I jammed the knife into the first hose and yanked.

A geyser of hydraulic fluid sprayed across me, warm and slick. The T-60 bucked, trying to shake me loose. I held on, hacking furiously at the second hose.

It lurched to the left, then froze mid-step, its arms locking in place. The hiss of escaping fluid filled the air, acrid and metallic.

I slid off its back just as it toppled to its knees, inert. The man inside screaming futilely. Those lines were the Achilles heel of power armor.

James burst from the bushes, his face pale and wild. He ran to me, scooping me up without a word and half-carrying, half-dragging me toward Vertibird number four.

The hatch opened with a hiss as I punched the code Barbara had given me.

We stumbled into the seats just as the first shouts rose in the distance, footsteps, alarms, the faint whine of more machines powering up.

James turned to me, “You’re out of your damn mind,” he muttered, but there was no mistaking the fierce pride in his eyes.

I allowed myself one breath, just one, before further sinking into the pilot’s chair and gripping the controls.

“All right,” I whispered to myself. “Let’s fly.”

James glanced at his Pip-Boy, the faint green glow lighting his jaw in the dim cabin. “Six o’clock, Mia. It’s time.”

I nodded, gripping the controls tighter. My hands were slick with sweat, but my mind was already racing ahead, through procedures, through every page of that manual Barbara had slipped me.
 But the dome above… it stayed shut.

A low, grinding whine started somewhere deep in the walls, then stopped.

I swallowed hard. “Why isn’t it opening?”

That was when I saw him.

Below, striding into view like the devil himself, came Winston. His smug grin was unmistakable, even in the pale morning light. Beside him lumbered another T-60, dragging Barbara along like a rag doll.

The sight of her twisted in that mechanical grip froze my blood.

Winston stopped just in front of our Vertibird, tilting his head back to stare at me. His voice carried easily, too easily, over the pad. “You thought you could outsmart us? Us?!” He barked a laugh. “You really believed we wouldn’t figure out your little plan?”

Barbara’s scream tore through the air as the T-60 wrenched her off her feet. I could see the pain etched into her face, but still she glared at him, defiant.

Winston’s eyes sparkled with triumph as he raised his hand. “Get out of the Vertibird,” he called. “You don’t even have the right codes. You can’t…”

But he was wrong.

Keeping my movements small, subtle, I flipped the row of switches above me one by one, feeling the console vibrate to life. The HUD blinked on, green runes and diagrams spilling across the glass before me.

Then, with a deafening groan, the dome began to split.

The whole facility shook, dust raining down like snow. Beyond the opening, I caught my first glimpse of the wasteland’s blood-red horizon, jagged and alive.

Winston froze, his bravado draining as he threw an arm up against the incoming air. “You idiots!” he roared, coughing into his sleeve.

Then Barbara screamed something, her voice cutting through the chaos. “GO!”

The T-60 tightened its grip on her, and before I could even react, it tore her apart.

I heard myself cry out, a sound I didn’t even recognize. Rage ignited in my chest. My fingers found the trigger on the console.

The Vertibird’s guns roared to life, their thunderous rattle drowning everything else out. The T-60 staggered under a hail of bullets. Sparks, smoke, metal shrieking as it was ripped open. Then it collapsed in a heap, flames curling around its frame.

“Mia!” James shouted over the din, shaking my shoulder. “We have to go! NOW!”

Tears blurred my vision, but I forced my hand to the launch switch.

The Vertibird’s engines screamed, and we lifted off, racing toward the widening gap in the dome.

Below, Winston was screaming something at the top of his lungs, his voice lost in the roar of engines and wind.

We cleared the dome by inches.

Then, behind us, one after another, the other Vertibirds exploded in a chain of deafening blasts. The pad was a sea of fire and twisted steel.

I sagged back into the seat, James’ arms around me as the Vertibird hurtled west on autopilot. My throat burned, my chest heaved, and still, I couldn’t stop crying.

“She’s gone,” I whispered.

James held me tighter, his jaw rigid. “She gave everything to help us escape. And it still wasn’t enough. They didn’t get what they deserved.”

A shrill whine filled the cabin, lights flashing red. I snapped my head up to see the screens. Blips, fast, closing in.

“We have incoming!” I shouted.

Below, smaller Vertibirds had risen from the wasteland, dark specks against the red sky. Their rotors carved through the morning silence as they climbed higher, chasing us.

I fought the controls, but they didn’t respond. Everything was locked out, the autopilot unyielding.
 “I can’t…” I slammed my fist against the console. “They’re on us. I can’t shake them!”

The pursuing Vertibirds crept closer, their weapons glinting in the faint light.

And then…

A blinding white flash.

I jerked around just in time to see the horizon erupt. A column of fire punched into the sky, too bright to look at.

The mushroom cloud followed, monstrous and alive, climbing higher, devouring the dome beneath it. I shielded my eyes, still catching a glimpse of Winston’s Enclave, his kingdom incinerated in an instant.

A dark wave of dirt and fire raced towards us. The shockwave.

“Brace!” I screamed, clinging to the seat.

The air turned to fists, hammering at our Vertibird as the shockwave overtook us. The whole craft pitched forward violently, tossing us around the cabin like dolls.

James’ arms found me again, holding me steady as the world turned sideways.

Below, the pursuing Vertibirds were caught in the maelstrom, tumbling them like leaves in a hurricane, shredded and flung into nothing.

Our own Vertibird groaned and shuddered but stayed airborne, its engines whining in protest as it raced westward at full throttle.

When the sky finally quieted, when the glow of the explosion was just a shimmer on the far horizon, I buried my face in James’ chest and let the tears come.

Barbara had kept her promise.

We were alive.

But at what cost?

 

***

 

The hum of the Vertibird’s engines had become part of me. The vibration in my bones. The endless wind rushing past the windows.

I sat curled up in the pilot’s seat, staring at nothing, when I finally found my voice.

“James… do you think we will ever land?”

He was slouched behind me, arms crossed, his expression soft but weary. Two days without sleep had carved new lines into his face. “At least we’re together,” he said, reaching forward to touch my shoulder.

I nodded faintly, but the words fell flat between us. We sat in silence after that.

A few hours later the faint green glow of a screen in the cockpit flickered to life.

James and I both leaned in as Barbara’s face appeared.

Her voice was calm but thick, as though even through the recording she carried the enormity of what she was about to say.

"By now you are close to your destination. And if all went according to plan… then the Enclave is no more."

I felt James stiffen beside me.

"I preprogrammed everything years in advance," she continued. "It took me years to gain access to all the areas I needed so that when the time came, I would be ready. All I had to do was activate my code and the timer would begin. I had planned my own escape, but… someone had to sacrifice themselves. It was too risky to trust anyone inside. Too dangerous to speak of it."

Her eyes glistened in the ghostly green light.

"For a time… I had hope," she confessed. "Hope the Necropolis Vault dwellers were safe. Hope we could rebuild with what we saved there. For all I had done…  being part of the worst tragedy mankind ever inflicted… I still… I wanted to live."

James’s hand slid over mine and squeezed it tightly.

Barbara looked away in the video, as though unable to meet my eyes even through time and glass.

"Then we found you. I monitored the medical tests. Hid something very important from everyone in the Enclave. Mia is… pregnant."

I froze.

"If the Enclave had known, they would have harvested the child. But I couldn’t let them do that. Not to you. Not to…" she faltered, swallowed "…not to us."

Her voice cracked.

"When I discovered who you were… Charles… it broke something in me. We never had children, you and me. And seeing how James cared for you… something inside me knew what I had to do. What my role would be."

"I have regrets. Too many to count. But this… This I could do right. I hope you can forgive me… for what I did, and what is still to come."

Barbara exhaled deeply, her shoulders trembling.

"I programmed the Vertibird to take you to the backup facility. An island. Untouched by bombs. Untouched by radiation. There you will find a smaller dome. A place to rebuild. To have the family I always dreamed of… away from destruction, from mutations, from the ruthlessness of the wasteland."

My eyes burned as I stared through the window. The clouds began to part. Below us stretched an endless shimmer of turquoise water, and beyond that, green. Lush, dense, alive.

The island was breathtaking.

Barbara’s voice softened into something like a prayer.

"The Vertibird will be disabled upon your arrival. I know that may seem cruel, that once again I am playing God with your lives, but that child you are carrying, Mia… it’s the future. Build one we can be proud of."

Her lips quivered before the recording faded.

"I have always loved you."

The screen went dark.

I stared down at my hands. Then to my stomach. Slowly, I placed a trembling palm there, feeling nothing yet but the weight of what she had said.

“Mia,” James whispered. His eyes were full of questions and grief and something else… hope and joy.

I just nodded, unable to speak.

Below us, the dome came into view, gleaming like a pearl against the jungle. It split open as we descended.

The Vertibird’s landing skids touched down on the soft grass inside, and the dome sealed shut above us with a muted thrum.

Then there were sparks. A loud pop.

The controls went dead. The screens darkened. The faint smell of burned electronics filled the cabin.

I sat perfectly still for a moment, feeling the silence press in.

James reached over and gently covered my hand with his. “She kept her promise,” he murmured.

I kept my other hand on my stomach, still staring at the door.

“Yes,” I said quietly.

And I allowed myself to imagine what Barbara had truly done for us and what that might mean for our future. Not just for James and me, but for the life that was growing inside of me.

 

***

 

The air smelled of salt and hibiscus as I sat beneath the palm tree, one hand resting on the swell of my stomach. The shade barely cut the heat, but it was enough.

I watched them, Barbara, Robinson, and little Jennifer, their laughter carried on the breeze as they splashed at the water’s edge and dug trenches in the sand.

Barbara, six years old now, already carried herself like someone older, protective of her younger siblings, her long hair was a tangle of salt and sunshine.

Robinson, five, named after the legendary and apropos Robinson Caruso, full of mischief, darting in and out of the waves, chasing crabs.

And Jennifer… my sweet little three-year-old, still clinging to James’ leg whenever the tide crept up too close.

James glanced at me then, his eyes warm and shining, and said softly, “You’re a wonderful mother, Mia.”

I leaned toward him awkwardly, my belly making everything awkward, and kissed his cheek. “As if I had much choice with a lack of protection and a heightened libido.” I smiled. “I wouldn’t change a thing. You turned out to be a wonderful father.”

He grinned at me with that same quiet determination I had grown to love, then rose and began calling the children back from the shore.

I watched James herd them with infinite patience, Jennifer scooped up into his arms as Barbara and Robinson trailed behind, bickering lightly over who had found the biggest shell.

I stood then, brushing sand from my dress, and tilted my gaze upward toward the jagged silhouette of the radio tower high on the mountain ridge. It loomed against the blue sky, waiting. Silent.

Neither of us were eager to climb that path or activate the signal announcing us to the world. We would likely wait until Barbara was old enough to understand the implications of reconnecting with the world, a world that they would be trained for when the time came.

I managed to fix the Vertibird several years earlier. My engineering skills had come in handy, but we had never done more than a brief test flight. We didn’t need to. Not yet.

We were fine here. Building something real. Something special.

We were raising our children to know how to survive, how to rebuild. To be better than what came before them.

And someday… someday, they would climb that mountain and decide if the world was ready to hear from us. But not today.

James caught my eye and nodded. He understood.

We gathered the children, their little hands full of wet sand and gleaming shells and began walking back together. Back toward the dome, toward the protective wall we still hoped we would never need.

Barbara slipped her hand into mine as we followed James’ steady steps.

Her palm was warm and sticky, and it made my chest ache in the best way.

I looked down at her and smiled before I began speaking, my voice gentle but sure, telling her the story I had kept waiting for the right moment to tell.

“Let me tell you about the world, Barbara… about what lies beyond these waters. About what it once was, and what it could still be, if we’re careful. If we’re kind. If we remember.”

And as the children listened and the dome shimmered in the distance, we walked on, together, toward whatever future waited for us as a family.

 

***

***

 

This was a fun story to write. I have not used someone else’s imagination for the world and then put my own story to it. For those of you that enjoy gaming, and maybe have played Fallout, this one was for you.

Please take a moment to leave a comment or private message. I love hearing from you.

 

Avia Conner