Be Excellent To Each Other

Hello! To celebrate the release of Fallout 3, I'm going to post one of my Fallout-based fanfictions every five days to help get you into the post-nuclear mood. These were all written years ago and are copyright me, obviously. Enjoy!

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'Batter up!,' yelled Billy.
The team looked down the bench. Johnny stood up. It was his turn. Picking up his bat, he strode up to the plate. He was quite good at baseball. He pretended to knock the dirt from his shoes, even though his trainers didn't have any spikes. He spat weakly, and glared at the pitcher. The pitcher wound up, and threw. With a resounding crack the ball sailed up into the air, across the vacant lot, over the fence, and, predictably, into Old Mrs Flanagan's bedroom window. All the kids turned and stared at Johnny, who was still standing on home plate, a mixture of pride and horror on his face. Regaining his composure, Johnny, ran around the bases. As he rounded third, someone called out to him.
'Here comes Mrs. Flanagan!'
Johnny ran across home plate, and continued to the loose plank that afforded them access to the vacant lot. He waved his hat triumphantly at the rest of the team before racing off for home.

He slowly pulled open the screen door, and tried to slink through the kitchen unnoticed by his mother, who was busy dropping potatoes into boiling water. Typical of a parent, she ignored him until he had nearly succeeded in sneaking past.
'Good game, Jonathan?,' she asked.
'Yes, mom,' he replied.
Mother cocked her head. 'Oh really? Did you forget to bring your bat and glove?'
'Erm... I let Hank borrow them...,' lied Johnny.
Wiping her hands on her apron, Mother reached into a cupboard under the sink and produced his bat and glove, which he had dropped during his hasty exit from the game.
'Wow,' said Johnny, trying to act surprised. 'He sure returned them quickly!'
'Jonathan, it was Mrs. Flanagan who returned them.'
'Oh.'
'You broke another of her windows, didn't you?'
'Sort of?'
'Fixing windows isn't cheap, Jonathan. We're going to have to punish you.'
'Oh,' said Johnny unhappily.
'No television or dessert, tonight... and you can have these back...,' she sad, waving the glove and bat, 'when you promise to be more careful!'
'Sorry, mom. I can't help it if I'm good!'
Mother smiled at him. 'I know you're good at baseball, Johnny. But you have to try not to break any windows until you're playing for the Dodgers and making a lot of money!'
'I can break windows then?,' asked Johnny expectantly.
'Yes, but not before then!'
'Wow! Thanks, mom!,' said Johnny, and he ran upstairs to his room.

Later, an car engine outside announced his father's arrival home from work. Johnny peered out his bedroom window to see his father's blue Jupiter Motors Galaxy pull into the driveway. Johnny ran downstairs to greet him.
'Daddy daddy my daddy's home!,' he shouted, as his father struggled through the door, and hung up his coat and hat. Father put down his briefcase and knelt down.
'What did you break this time?,' he asked.
'Mrs. Flanagan's window... with a baseball,' said Mother emerging from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her frilly apron. Father looked gravely at Johnny.
'Is this true Johnny? Did you hit a baseball through her window all the way from the vacant lot?'
Johnny simply looked away and wished he was somewhere else.
'Jonathan...,' said Father firmly.
'Yes, dad...,' replied Jonathan at last.
Father straightened up and beamed.
'What did I tell you, Alice, this kid's got a special gift!'
Mother gaped. Johnny grinned broadly.
Father continued, saying, 'He's gonna be a big star one day. If he can do that when he's nine, imagine him in twelve years or so!'
'William!,' said Mother, still shocked, 'I know parents should encourage their children, but, Mrs. Flanagan is very upset!'
'Oh, boo to Mrs. Flanagan,' said Father, lighting his pipe and winking at Johnny. 'I'll pay for her stupid window. Just tell the old fuddy duddy to leave my son alone!'
And with that, he walked into the living room, picked up the newspaper, and sat down to read. Johnny grinned happily at Mother, who gave him a worried look before returning to the kitchen.

Dinner was meatloaf, and although it was Mother's specialty, Father poked disinterestedly at it like it was a plate of manure.
'Is something the matter, dear?,' Mother asked, noting Johnny was quite contentedly wolfing it down.
'Oh, it's just all this war business,' said Father. 'Business has been dropping recently, and today J.D. fired a bunch of people from the mailroom, to cover our losses.'
Mother looked over at Johnny, who just smiled a mouthful of half-chewed meatloaf at her. Shuddering, she turned back to Father.
'So, what is the problem?'
Father sighed. 'I'm worried,' he said. 'Not just for the safety of my job, but for the safety of my family. The Commies are getting desperate with some of the victories our boys have had recently...'
'Oh William...,' said Mother, 'Must you always bring the Communists into this?'
'Well, we ARE at war with them!,' replied Father.
Johnny had finished his plate of meatloaf, and said to Father, 'Why are they bad?'

Mother rolled her eyes. Father was always willing to discuss the evils of Communism with his son.
'Well son, you have your toys, don't you?,' he asked.
'Yeah'
'And you like them, right?,'
'Yeah!'
'But do you like sharing them?,' asked Father.
'Not really,' said Johnny, who always found they had something broken when they were returned.
'Well, Communists make everyone share everything with everyone else. They wouldn't be your toys. So any of the kids could come in and take them whenever they wanted.'
'Even Fatty Roger?,'
'ESPECIALLY Fatty Roger,' said Father, using Johnny's dislike of Roger to reinforce his point. Mother gathered the plates and took them to the dishwasher, eager to get away from the conversation.

Later that evening, Father called Johnny down to watch television. Mother disapproved.
'I said he couldn't watch any because of Mrs. Flanagan's window!'
'Come on dear, you can't let the kid grow up without entertainment. He'll be a robot!'
Johnny came in, and caught the tail end of the discussion.
'Really?,' he asked, 'What kind of robot? One of those cool sentry robots?'
'No,' said Father, 'more like a Robobrain. You'll spend your life sweeping up hospitals.'
Johnny frowned and sat in front of the television. It was a common Radiation King model, black and white. Colour television tubes were a relatively new invention, and were very expensive. He reached forward and twisted the knob. The picture faded in.
'And now,' said the announcer, 'Cassell's, makers of Cheese Bitz, presents Commander Rocket!'
Johnny bounced up and down with delight as the heroic Commander Rocket music began to play. Mother looked on disinterestedly and worked on her sewing. Father sat buried behind his newspaper, pipe puffing away.
'When we last left Commander Rocket, he was about to rescue the President's daughter from evil Russian spies!'
'Booooo!,' said Johnny to the television. Father nodded to himself.

PRESIDENT'S DAUGHTER: Let me go, you dastardly spies!
FIRST SPY: Ve vill not be letting you go, until your father tells us vere ze secret jet fuel formula is kept!
SECOND SPY: Zis is your last chance vill you talk?
PRESIDENT'S DAUGHTER: Never! Do your worst!
COMMANDER ROCKET: (crashing through the ceiling) Aha!
SECOND SPY: Oh no! It's that Commander Rocket!
PRESIDENT'S DAUGHTER: Oh! Commander Rocket! Help me!
COMMANDER ROCKET: You fiends, trying to take over the United States! Your evil plans won't succeed! Haha! Feel the power of my atomic stun gun!
FIRST SPY: (being zapped) Agh! I... can't... move!
SECOND SPY: (firing gun) Feel the power of my machine gun!
COMMANDER ROCKET: (deflecting bullets with his bulletproof arm) Aha! Your time... is up! Take this!
SECOND SPY: (punched in the head) Oof!
PRESIDENT'S DAUGHTER: (being untied) Thank you Commander Rocket!
COMMANDER ROCKET: There's no time to lose, Miss! We have to warn your father about the submarine in the harbour! (he grabs the President's daughter and, igniting his rocket pack, soars out through the hole in the ceiling)

'Yay Commander Rocket!,' cheered Johnny, delighted.


The next day at school, Johnny was outside with his friends Billy and Tommy during recess when Sally came running up.
'I... heard the teacher...,' she panted, 'saying... there's going... to be a test... after recess!'
Johnny and his friends looked at each other. It wasn't fair! A test? On what? The bell rang, and, unhappy, they walked slowly back into the school.
Everyone sat down at their desks, and Mrs. Deford, the teacher, looked a bit anxious.
'Mrs. Deford?,' said Billy, raising his hand, 'Is there going to be a test?'
'Yes, Billy,' answered Mrs. Deford, and everyone groaned. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Mrs. Deford opened it, and in stepped a man in a suit.
'Hello, children,' he said. 'My name is Mr. Elliot, and I'm here to talk to you about safety.'
The class looked at one another, confused.
'Now,' said Mr. Elliot, walking up to sit on Mrs. Deford's desk, 'who can give me an example of a safety rule?'
'Look both ways before you cross the street!,' called someone.
'Very good!,' said Mr. Elliot.
'Never go anywhere with a stranger!,' said someone else.
'Right!,' said Mr. Elliot.
'Don't pick your nose, or it'll bleed!,' said Fatty Roger. Everyone laughed.
'Okaaay...,' said Mr. Elliot. 'You all are very smart. I'm here to make you smarter. Does anyone know what this is?'. He picked up a piece of chalk and drew a large mushroom cloud on the blackboard. Every hand in the class shot up. Mr. Elliot pointed at Billy.
'A mushroom cloud, Mr. Elliot!,' he said.
'Correct,' replied Mr. Elliot.
'KABOOM!,' shouted someone, and everyone laughed, until Mrs. Deford shushed them.
'Now,' resumed Mr. Elliot, 'who can tell me a safety rule about an atomic bomb?'
No hands were raised, so Mr. Elliot continued.
'Ah. Well, I'm going to teach you some,' he said. 'Could everyone see if they can fit under their desks?,' he asked. Much shuffling of chairs began, and soon the children were hiding under their desks.
'Very good!,' said Mr. Elliot. 'Okay, everyone back up. Now, can anyone tell me what happens when an atomic bomb explodes?'
'Everyone dies!,' called someone, and the class erupted into laughter again, until a sharp glare from Mrs. Deford restored order.
'Not if you do what I teach you,' said Mr. Elliot. 'Anyone else?'
Eventually Amanda raised her hand.
'Yes?,' asked Mr. Elliot.
'A bright flash?,' ventured Amanda.
'Very good! She's right, a bright flash is seen. If you see the flash, crawl under your desks like you just did, and cover your head with your hands, or a blanket or newspaper, if you have one.'
Mrs. Deford came forward with a movie reel case.
'Now, I've got a special friend who's going to tell you more about protecting yourself. Mrs. Deford, please start the movie!'
Mr. Elliot switched off the lights and pulled down the movie screen in front of the blackboard. Mrs. Deford started the projector, and 'Copyright United States War Department, 2075' appeared. Happy, yet tinny music began to play.
'Diddle dum dum,' sang the music, 'diddle dum dum... there once was a turtle by the name of Bert,' and an image of a cartoon turtle wearing a helmet appeared, walking through a forest.

That evening, Father came home as usual.
'How was work, honey?,' called Mother from the kitchen. Father hung up his coat and hat and walked into the kitchen. Johnny was sitting at the table, attacking a toy tank with a Commander Rocket action figure. Father sat down at the table across from Johnny.
'H-how was school, son?,' asked Father, sounding a bit disturbed.
'Fine, daddy,' replied Johnny, as Commander Rocket continued to assault the tank, which had a bright red star painted on it.
'Erm.... learn anything new?,' continued Father, and the tone of his voice caused Mother to turn around from washing the carrots to listen.
'Oh yes!,' said Johnny brightly. 'We learned to duck and cover in case of an atomic bomb!'
Johnny dived under the table.
'When you see the flash, duck and cover!,' he called from under the table.
'I see,' said Father.
'There once was a turtle by the name of Bert!,' Johnny sang loudly.
Mother came over. 'Dear, is anything the matter?
'...when danger threatened him he never got hurt! He knew just what to do! Duck and cover!,' sang Johnny from under the table.
Father looked at her, and then called down to Johnny to come back up.
'Now Johnny,' he said, 'how would you feel about moving?'
'Oh boy!,' shouted Johnny, before he realizing the true meaning of Father's words. 'Ummm, where?'
'Moving!?!,' exclaimed Mother. Father reached into his pocket and pulled out a brochure, and handed it to Mother. Johnny looked at it over her shoulder.
'Vault-Tec, American's Final Word in Homes,' read Mother.
'What's a Vault?,' asked Johnny.
'Congratulations on your purchase of quarters inside newly completed Vault 15, a short drive from Scenic downtown Fresno!,' read Mother. She looked at Father with a mixture of bemusement and confusion.
'You bought us a place in a bomb shelter?,' she asked quizzically.
'It's no ordinary bomb shelter!,' exclaimed Father, and pointed at a paragraph in the brochure.
'Vault-Tec has designed the Vault to provide a comfortable living environment. All modern amenities are provided, including medical and recreational facilities,' said Mother, reading the paragraph out loud. Above it was a picture of the standard living quarters, which boasted its own dining/sitting area, two beds, a small ensuite bathroom, and more. 'Wow! Dad, would we have our own computer like that one there?,' asked Johnny excitedly.
'That's right son. Now, why don't you go upstairs and pick the toys you want to bring, and leave your mother and me to talk about this.'
Johnny was upstairs in a flash. As soon as he was gone, Mother spoke frankly to her husband.
'William, are you sure about this?'
'Of course... J.D. recommended the employees move to safe locations. He is a shareholder in Vault-Tec, after all...'
'Oh I see,' said Mother.
'No, no, no! He wants his employees to be safe... just in case!,'
'But... what about our furniture? And selling the house?'
'He's taken care of that,' replied Father. 'All the furniture we want to keep will be put into storage, and the rest will be sold. J.D. has also arranged for a real estate company for the house.
'Your boss is a swell guy,' said Mother, with a touch of irony.
'Plus,' Father said, driving that point home, 'he says if this whole war scare blows over, he'll make sure we get a nice house when we move out of the Vault!'
'So when would we move?,' asked Mother.
'Tomorrow!,' said Father. In response to her shocked look, he handed her a roll of adhesive labels.
'Stick these on everything you want packed into storage,' he said. 'And get out all the luggage, and pack all the clothes and things you want to take.'

The next day Johnny said goodbye to his classmates. They were sad to see him go, but were pleasantly surprised when the teacher had them all make him goodbye cards, instead of work.
Johnny sat at his desk, the pile of cards on his desk, a group of classmates standing around. He picked up one shaped like a mountain.
'That's mine,' said Billy.
Johnny opened it. A stick figure labeled 'YOU' stood, grinning, inside a box, while outside there were people on fire next to a mushroom cloud. There were labeled 'EVERYONE ELSE'. Johnny grinned.
The next card was shaped like a cloud. Inside it read 'I hope they don't drop it until I'm 16, because I'm too young to SMOKE! -Tommy'. Johnny laughed. Sally came up.
'Here's mine!,' she said. It was fairly nodescript. Johnny opened it. 'Look up!' was all it said inside. Confused, Johnny looked up, and Sally kissed him on the cheek.
'Ewwwwww!,' cried Johnny, repulsed yet suddenly feeling a tingling down his spine.
'They won't let you in the Vault now,' laughed Billy, 'you've got cootie contamination!'
Johnny wadded the cards together and stuck them into his backpack.
'I got my bat and glove back!,' he said. 'Who wants a last game!'

The sun was shining brightly on the dusty vacant lot, and Johnny pulled his cap down to shield his eyes. He looked around the bases. Charlotte on third, Andy on second, and Tommy on third. He looked behind him at Fatty Rogers, who was always catcher, and tried unsuccessfully to spit onto the plate. Brian, the pitcher, wound up and threw the ball. Johnny realized this was probably his last time at bat for a long time, so he lifted one foot off the ground to put his weight into the swing, and swung as hard as he could. With a resounding crack, the bat made contact and sent the ball soaring out over the fence, and into Mrs. Flanagan's living room window. Everyone cheered! Mrs. Flanagan stuck her head out the window.
'Why you little brat!,' she screamed.
A horn honked, and Johnny turned to see Father's blue Galaxy pulling up. Time to go. He stuck his tongue out, much to Mrs. Flanagan's horror, and waved farewell to his friends, before running to get in the car.

Outside the house, the movers had nearly finished filling the truck with the furniture and boxes filled with the possessions Mother had labeled. A brand new 'For Sale' sign stood on the lawn. Father pulled into the driveway, and got out to give the movers a tip. They gave him the address of the storage warehouse. The luggage was already in the back of the car, so as soon as Mother had gotten in, they were ready to go. The October sun was already setting in the sky as they backed out of the driveway, and headed off towards the highway.

They spent the night at a motel near Bakersfield. As they were leaving the next morning, Johnny spotted a billboard next to the road.
'Newly opened... Vault... 12?,' he read aloud.
'That's right,' said Father, 'they're building them all over the place. There's one back in Los Angeles, but it's full so we have to go to the one up north.'
Soon another billboard came up on the side of the road.
'Hmm... Lost Hills military installation... next right,' said Father, and he glanced down at the map he held over the steering wheel. 'That means... we're here. About 120 miles to Fresno, then.'
Soon they were approaching Fresno. Father pulled the car into a rest area. Another Vault-Tec billboard was nearby. He and Johnny walked up to read it.
'Vault 13... exit 85 west... Vault 15, exit 87 east...,' muttered Father to himself.
'How much further, dad?,' asked Johnny.
'About an hour and a half,' replied Father.

It was about two o'clock in the afternoon when they spotted a large sign pointing off the highway to Vault 15. A long, freshly paved road lead towards a large, low building in the distance. Soon they slowed down to a large wire mesh gate, which blocked entrance to the building.
'Good afternoon,' said the guard, 'May I see your registration papers?,'
Father obliged, and the gate opened.
'Drive through to the reception area,' the guard said, pointing. 'There you'll get your parking space assignments, and be taken down to the Vault.'
Father drove through into the large covered car park, and headed around towards the reception entrance at the far end. It was cool and shady underneath the large roof, which shielded the vast car park from the California sun. Arriving at the reception, Father went through the automatic glass doors and spoke to the woman behind the desk. He soon returned, and drove them to their assigned parking space, not far from the entrance. This was fortunate, as the car park was still fairly empty. Pulling out all their baggage, the family struggled their way back to the entrance.
Once inside, the receptionist led them to a large elevator, which carried them down to the Vault entrance.
'How deep is this thing?,' asked Mother.
'It IS under a mountain!,' replied Father.
'Neat!,' said Johnny.
The elevator stopped, and they emerged into a somewhat dim cave. A smoothed out walkway led to a large gear-shaped blast door, which was open. A man in a blue and yellow uniform was waiting for them.
'Welcome to Vault 15,' he said, 'I'm head of security Cameron. May I see your papers? Ah, room 116. Here, ma'am, let me take that heavy case. I'll show you to your new home.'
Mr. Cameron led them down a corridor, to a large security door. Mr. Cameron punched in a code, and red lights above the door flashed as it slowly opened. They walked through, and up to another lift. It arrived, and carried them down several floors.
'Living Quarters level 2,' said a charming computer voice. The doors slid apart, and Mr. Cameron led them down a series of hallways to a large metal door. It had a 116 written on it.
'Use your keycard on that, sir,' said Cameron. Father did so, and the door slid open to reveal an impossibly clean room, just like the one in the brochure.
'Information is contained in the book on the table,' said Cameron. 'This is your food dispenser, telephone, television, computer, lockers... your bathroom is through that doorway there. I'll leave you to get settled in. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call upon us.'
He left, and the door slid shut behind them. Mother, Father, and Johnny all stood, looking at the metal box under the ground that was their new home.

They all spent a restless night, unaccustomed to the enclosed spaces and constant hum of machinery inside the Vault. When they awoke the next morning, they found a message flashing on the computer's screen. 'WELCOME TO VAULT 15. For you convenience, please wear the VaultSuit contained in your closet.'
Father opened the closet, and inside hung several blue and yellow jumpsuits, much like those Cameron had been wearing the day before. There was a pair for himself, one for Mother, and one for Father. Handing them out, he slipped into his. It was a bit tight, he decided. Mother looked a bit embarassed by the tightness of the fit.
'These are like pajamas!,' said Johnny. 'Can I have some breakfast?'. Mother walked over to the food dispenser. There was a large button next to it, and, deciding it was probably connected to the dispenser, she pressed it. The dispener's door suddenly slid open, and a tray rolled out containing three breakfasts. Toast, and some dried fruit. Three glasses of milk lowered down onto the tray. Johnny ran up, snatched his food, and ran back to the table.

That morning an announcement was made that all new residents were to proceed to the meeting area for orientation. The meeting room was a fairly large area, filled with tables and chairs. A group of important looking people, all in VaultSuits, sat at chairs facing the residents. A clean-shaven man with greying hair walk forward and faced the crowd, clearly unhappy there was no podium.
He introduced himself as the Vault Overseer, proceeded to welcome everyone to the Vault, then stepped down to allow the others to describe safety, food, and other tedious regulations.
After far too long, it was all over, leaving Mother and Father sitting utterly drained. It was a whole new lifestyle. Johnny, however, didn't care, since he'd made a new friend, Harry. As the adults began to file out of the room, Johnny and Harry ran off down the corridor to the elevators.
'Don't forget what room we're in!,' called Mother after him.

'I might be leaving!,' said Harry.
'Why?,' asked Johnny.
'Because my mom and dad are friends with these other people, and they have a kid named Richie who's a bit older than me but he's still cool. And they wanted to be in the same Vault, but they don't know if there's a place here in Vault 15 for them.'
'Oh,' said Johnny. He was disappointed to have made a friend only to discover the possibility of losing him already.
'Hey lookee what I've got,' said Harry, and pulled out a box from under his bed.
'Wow!,' Johnny exclaimed, see the box contained two Commander Rocket Atomic Stunguns. Harry opened the box and handed him one.
'Come on let's go play Commander Rocket and Communists!,' he shouted.

The blast door guard waved cheerfully at them as they ran to the elevator to the surface. They entered the carpark, which was a bit more full than when Johnny had arrived. Harry ran behind a group of parked cars.
'Okay!,' he called over the bonnet of a shiny red Whirlwind, 'This is my base, and those cars over there is Commander Rocket's base, and you have to come and capture my base!'
Johnny ran to his 'base', and peered towards Harry, who ducked out of sight. Johnny stood up and tried to catch sight of him. Scanning the area, he caught sight of Harry advancing along a row of cars to the right. Johnny grinned and raised the gun.
'Kapow!,' he shouted, and Harry dived to the ground.
'Missed me!'
'I won't miss again!,' called Johnny and he jumped up and ran towards Harry. When he reached the row of cars, Harry ran the other way, and managed to make it to Johnny's base.
'I win!,' taunted Harry.
'Noyadint!,' Johnny shouted, 'Commies will never win!'

Several weeks later, Mother and Father sat at the small metal table in the sleeping quarters, when the door hissed open and Johnny ran in, out of breath.
'You won't believe it, you won't believe it!,' he shouted, out of breath.
'Calm down son, and tell us what we won't believe!,' said Father.
Johnny took several deep breaths, then resumed shouting as excitedly as before.
'Some new kids have arrived!,' he said, 'and they've brought baseballs and bats and gloves with them!,'. It was true, the Vault population had been steadily rising recently.
'Well good,' said Mother, 'at least you won't have any windows to break around here.'
The doorbell buzzed, and Father went and opened it. The new edition of the Los Angeles Tribune sat on the doorstep. Newspaper subscriptions to Vault dwellers could be maintained, for a small extra delivery fee. Father picked up the paper and eyed it with unhappiness. The huge headline read 'ALLIES TO LAUNCH NEW OFFENSIVE', but a smaller story described how American forces had been losing ground to the enemy recently. He walked back to the table, and as he put the paper down, the date caused a light to go on in his head.
'By the way, Johnny,' he said, 'Hallowe'en is only a week away. Have you decided what you want to go as to the Vault party?'
'I wanna go as a nuclear mutant!,' said Johnny, and grinned.
Mother clucked her tongue, and said, 'Johnny, honestly, why not go as something nice? Like that Commander Pocket or whatever his name is?'
'But I don't wanna go as Commander Rocket!,' Johnny whined, 'EVERYONE is gonna go as him! I wanna go as something cool.'
'The way the war is going, you might not need a costume,' muttered Father. Mother and Johnny stared at him, and he buried his face back in the newspaper.
'So, erm, Johnny,' ventured Mother, 'why don't you go see if you can arrange some kind of baseball game with those new children?'
'Kay!,' yelled Johnny, and he scampered out of the room.

The next day a large group of children came up to the carpark. The receptionist noticed they were carrying bats and balls.
'Hey, please don't play in here...,' she said. 'You'll damage someone's car. Go outside in the sunshine, if you don't mind!'
The children grudgingly obeyed, and emerged from under the giant roof into the sunshine, which was almost blinding after being in the Vault. Soon they had set up a rudimentary diamond on the access road.
'Okay!,' yelled Johnny, 'Plaaaaaaaay ball!'
He stepped up to bat. Harry pitched, and Johnny swung. He connected hard and sure. The time off hadn't affected his skills at all. In fact, he hit the ball so hard it soared high into the air and landed with a metallic thunk on the roof of the giant carpark. The sound echoed throughout the interior.
'Ohhh great,' said one kid. But suddenly there came another noise, as the ball began to roll down the sloped roof. It reached the edge, and fell. A kid ran and managed to catch it.
'Does that count as an out?,' asked Johnny.
'No!,' replied Harry, 'so RUN!'
Johnny took off running. The boy with the ball took a few seconds to realize he still had to throw it in. He began running back towards the diamond, and threw it as hard as he could at the backcatcher. She hadn't played much before, and when the ball came at her she just squealed and covered her head with her hands. The ball flew past her and rolled off down the road.
'Get it Get it!,' called some of the children, as Johnny touched home.
Sheepishly, the girl uncovered herself and jogged off down the road after the ball.

Father reached and tore off a page of the calendar. October 28th. Johnny sat at the kitchen table, and picked at his toast and jam.
'Please eat it,' said Mother.
Johnny shook his head. Harry had left, and he was depressed. The other kids were great but Harry was a good baseball player and the team wasn't as good without him.
'Ummm, I've started your nuclear mutant costume,' Mother said, and held up a square of green fabric.
'Great,' said Johnny flatly. He pushed himself out from the table and walked dejectedly out of the room. As the door hissed shut, Father turned to Mother.
'Do you think moving here was a bad idea?,' he asked.
'Oh he's just unhappy. He'll get over it.'
'But I think maybe moving here was a mistake. I'll call J.D. and see about moving back into our house.'

The elevator doors opened, and Johnny walked slowly out. He trudged across the carpark, and out into the hot sun. Squinting, he looked up at the sun. He kicked at the dirt and rocks, and paced back and forth around the road. In the distance he heard the telephone in the reception ringing. Soon the receptionist came running up.
'I think you'd better come inside, kid,' she said. Johnny shrugged her off and kicked at a rock. As he did, the earth suddenly trembled. Not expecting it, Johnny fell backwards and was caught by the receptionist. Looking at the sky, he caught sight of several objects flying along.
'Lookit that!,' he said, pointing, and craned his neck around to look at the receptionist. She was staring down towards the main highway. Johnny looked too, and saw a convoy of cars approaching, and turning to head towards them at high speed.
'What's going on?,' he asked, but the receptionist didn't answer.
'Oh no, oh no,...' she kept repeating. Johnny tugged at her shirt, which snapped her out of it.
'Whats going on lady?,' Johnny repeated.
'There were enemy planes sighted over the coast,' she said. As she opened her mouth to speak again, the first of the cars reached them, and roared past in a cloud of dust. Both Johnny and the receptionist covered their faces, coughing in the dust. Johnny opened his eyes again and looked for the specks. They were passing near where Fresno was. A smaller speck began to drop from one of the objects.
'Hey, lookit!,' said Johnny.
'Oh no!!!!!,' shouted the receptionist, as the speck fell. 'Don't look she called, and twisted Johnny away. They shut their eyes. Johnny suddenly noticed an intense brightness, even through his closed eyelids. The receptionist released him, and Johnny straighted and looked towards the horizon, trying to brush the dust from the passing cars out of his face. Fresno was enveloped in a burning cloud. A strong wind was whipping up the desert sand into a wall of dust. The wall was getting closer. As it came closer, a distant explosion was heard. The dust cloud blew violently over them. There was a crash as some of the cars, blinded, collided. Johnny suddenly felt very weak. Everything seemed to be very heavy.
'Help!,' he called, confused.
'Come on!,' said the receptionist, and she grabbed his hand and led him back into the carpark. In the distance, more objects were approaching.

Clutching the receptionist's hand, Johnny hurried along through the carpark, which was in chaos. Families crawled all over each other trying to get to the Vault entrance. Johnny and the receptionist struggled through the crowd, and, luckily unencumbered by baggage, managed to get into an elevator down to the Vault blast door. Several men in Vault uniforms with torches were guiding the panicking crowds into the Vault. Mr. Cameron came running up.
'Planes headed this way!,' he called, 'better close the door now!'
Johnny and the receptionist were pushed hurriedly through the blast door, which was beginning to close. Safely inside, Johnny turned and saw the elevator doors at the far end open again. A crowd of terrified people ran futilely at the closing door, which sealed shut. He shut his eyes as he heard the frantic pounding and scrabbling against it. Mr. Cameron put his hand on Johnny's shoulder.
'Don't worry son, you're safe.'

Mother and Father came running up. Mother threw her arms around Johnny, and wiped tears from her eyes.
'Oh Jonathan,' she cried, 'when they sounded the alert we thought you'd be trapped outside! Thank heavens you're safe!'
'We can't thank you enough!,' said Father to the receptionist, who managed to smile sweetly before collapsing into a nearby chair. Outside, distant rumbling could be heard.

Several weeks later, Johnny sat in one of the corridors throwing a rubber ball repeatedly against the wall. Mr. Cameron and several men rounded the corner, carrying guns.
'Where are ya going, Mr. Cameron?,' asked Johnny.
'Outside, Johnny, to check to see if we got bombed or not,' replied Mr. Cameron.

The next morning, a meeting was called by the Overseer to inform the people of the outside world, or what was left of it.
'The carpark is amazingly mostly untouched. However, the roof of the surface structure is damaged, and will eventually collapse, so we'll allow groups of people up to collect any valuables they may have left in their cars. Mr. Cameron also reported catching sight of a few people, but they were heavily armed and appeared dangerous.'
'Is it possible they could be a gang?,' asked someone.
Mr. Cameron stepped forward. 'That would be correct, since I noticed through my binoculars that each wore a logo on their jackets.'
'Is there a chance we could be attacked, then?,' Mother asked.
'Oh nonsense,' said the Overseer. 'They'd have to both the blast and security doors open first, which would require heavy machinery, then they would have to fight through our security team. Don't worry about that.'
'When can we get out?,' asked another man.
'When we've established communication with the outside world. If we can't we have supplies to last 10 years in here. By that time it should be safe to come out, and any of those gangs will likely have settled down and raised families by then.'

That evening, the Overseer walked into the command centre. He went over to the communications officer, who was fiddling with a large shortwave radio.
'Any luck yet?,' asked the Overseer.
'Nothing, sir,' replied the officer, and offered a pair of headphones hissing with static.
'Keep trying,' said the Overseer, 'there must be someone out there.'
'Yes, sir,' the officer said, and continued to vainly search the frequencies for a signal.