User blog:DapperLord123/Fallout: A Whole New Life (Part Three)

Chapter One
Somewhere near Boston, Massachussets, USA

6:32 PM, October 23rd, 2287

The past day had been very hectic for Zentre. He had already managed to survive a nuclear holocaust, be held at gunpoint by a chem addict, and get kidnapped by raiders. Only one of those was a posotive, and even that was debatable. He didn't even know how long he'd been in cryo-sleep for. 10 years? 20 years? 200 years? It was hard to tell. It was even harder to tell where the raiders were taking him, Euan and Leo. They'd just been walking for hours. He didn't dare make a run for it. All of the raiders wielded M1 Garands. Occosionally, they would kill some poor, mutated creature, just to prove that they could kill. After ages, they stopped at an abandoned Vault. Painted on the door, large, yellow letters read "113". The leader of the raiders handed one of his gang members a note.

"What's this for, boss?" Asked the raider.

"It's a ransom," Said the leader, "I've got a Brahmin ready out back. Take it to Diamond City. Tell 'em if they don't give us 1500 caps, we'll kill the prisoners. I'm givin' you a week to get it done."

"Sure thing, boss." Said the raider, running off.

"As for you three," Said the leader of the raiders, turning to Leo, Euan and Zentre, "I have something planned for you."

He pulled out a tire iron, and swung it at Euan, who fell unconcious. Leo attempted to block the iron, but was too slow, and was also left unconcious. The raider swung at Zentre, who took the impact on his prosthetic arm, and kicked the iron out of the raider's hand.

"Not so tough now, are you mate?" Zentre said smugly, putting his fists up.

Before he could say anymore, he heard a loud bang. He looked down at his stomach. The crimson of his blood pured from a large, gaping wound. He felt the cold steel of a bullet embedded in him. The world around him became darker, and darker, until... blackness

Chapter Two
People say that death is painless. If that was true, then Zentre definitely wasn't dead. His stomach felt like hell. He looked around the room. He was layed out on a metal table, with scalpels and stimpacks on the wall behind him. His stomach was stitched up. A flickering naked light bulb was the only source of light.

"Finally awake, are we?" Said a woman's voice.

Zentre turned to look at her. Her shoulder-length, ebony black hair was neatly braided, and contrasted with her pale  skin.

"Where the hell am I?" Zentre asked groggilly.

"Medical bay. Vault 113. We're stuck here until the raiders say otherwise." The woman said, "I'm Serana by the way. You're Zentre, right?"

"Yeah, how'd you know that?"

"Euan told me," said Serana, "Why are you called that, anyway? It's a pretty odd name, isn't it?"

"It's a long story." Said Zentre, embarressed, "Who stitched up my stomach?"

"Oh, that was me," said Serana, "I may not be a doctor, but a few years of medical training teach you a thing or two."

"Cheers." Said Zentre.

He looked over at the table next to him. A bloodied bullet lay on it, wrapped in white tissue paper.

"Is that... the bullet?" He asked.

"Yeah, it is." Said Serana, "I'm surprised you survived a .308 round to the stomach. It's amazing what you can do with a needle and thread, some stimpacks and a bunch of Med-X. Don't try to get up too quickly, though. Or walk. Or even stand up."

"So I'm screwed, then." Said Zentre, grimly.

"Afraid so." Serana said, giving a weak smile.

"Stop worrying him." Said Euan, walking up to the table, "You're over-reacting."

"Where's Leo?" Asked Zentre.

"Down here with us," Said Euan, "And he has something planned. Serana, wheel Zentre over to the drawing board. We're getting out of here."