Survivor's Guilt (Fallout New Vegas Fanfiction)

Chapter Four

Sandra awoke to the chatter of birds - and also children - outside the shack. She slowly sat up on the single bed, pushing sweat-dampened hair off her neck and rubbing at her bleary eyes.

Last night she had gone to sleep later than usual, having stayed up thinking about her past after telling hers and Archer's story to her kids for the umpteenth time. She patted the mattress of the bed, feeling every string that poked out. The bed was ripped, stained and sour-smelling but she preferred it to the hard floor of the shack she lived in.

Originally she had vowed never to use this bed, that she would refrain for the sake of her children's comfort, but a concerned Zack had eventually convinced her to take it in turns with the rest of them. She smiled to herself; despite how angry and rude he often acted, her son was growing into a good man.

Sandra slid off the bed, feeling her stomach churn as soon as she stood up. Damn mole rat. Always moves around in your stomach like that, but it's the easiest meat to hunt around here.

She ventured over to the rusty metal lockers at the wall and found a box of Sugar Bombs cereal. The box was very light, and when shaken only produced a small noise. She sighed.

Guess we'll have to go buy some more. Goddammit.

She poured the last of the cereal into a cracked bowl that might have once been white and creaked open the door.

As expected she was hit with bright, hot sunshine, and instinctively narrowed her eyes. Once her vision cleared she saw Deborah and Peter playing with the makeshift obstacle course down the slope, while Zack read a book in the shade of their shack. Sandra joined him, popping a Sugar Bomb in her mouth.

"Whatcha reading?" she asked, sitting down on the sun-baked ground. Her gingham shirt was already sticking to her with sweat. She scratched her foot in the dirt and breathed in, smelling only metal, dust and grass.

"Building a Nation by Arnold Jones," Zack replied, setting the book on his knees and brushing his side-swept fringe out of his eyes. "It's about the common strategies a lot of countries have used to create successful societies over time. Pretty interesting."

Sandra smiled. Her son had always only liked fighting; she never expected him to take interest in something as complex as the strategies of social structure. Gosh, he's smart. Just like his dad.

"S'pose there's nothing in there about how societies collapse after nuclear apocalypse," the woman chuckled, scratching an itch on her freckled throat. Zack grinned. "Nah. But societies have been rebuilt quite a bit since the war, haven't they? At least America has been."

Sandra considered this for a moment, watching Peter loop around a broken lawn chair with a laughing Deborah in hot pursuit.

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, I don't really know any more than you do about what life was like before the war. That was a bit before my time." They both laughed.

"I mean, we have towns and shops and military factions, so quite a few people can still have luxurious lives. But most don't. They're like us, they live in run-down houses ruined by the bombs or that they built themselves, and they have to work hard every day just to survive. There are huge gangs running wild everywhere, not to mention dangerous animals mutated by the radiation. There's no justice system anymore, so criminals just get killed - or at least chased away forever - no matter the severity of their crime. I've read books about Old World laws and court trials and prisons and stuff - it was all very complicated. But that's not really possible now." She scratched the back of her head, feeling a tangle of filthy, sweaty hair. "So yeah, I suppose wouldn't call American society collapsed, but it's certainly not what it used to be."