Survivor's Guilt (Fallout New Vegas Fanfiction)

Chapter Eight

Zack awoke to the sound of pages turning. He slowly opened his eyes, kicking off the last of his blanket. Heat swamped the boy as he raised his head, elbow digging into his torn mattress, and saw Peter reading a book next to the shelf.

Zack rolled over onto his back again and rubbed at his bleary eyes till they cleared up, then stared at the rusty tin ceiling for a while.

He reflected on his and his mom's conversation last night. I wanted to know what happened to Dad so badly, but now that I do, I wish I fucking didn't. That was horrible. He scratched at his cheek. I'm still pissed that we have to live in this shack in the middle of nowhere, but now I understand why. I mean, I always knew the reason was, at least partially, Dad's death, but I had no idea of the true extent of what happened. Goddamn.

A clanging thud came from the roof; a bird must have landed on it.

He sat up and turned around on his mattress. Pete was still reading and Sandra was up on the bed, still asleep.

"Morning," he said quietly. Peter looked up, lacking any startled demeanour; he obviously already knew his brother was awake. "Hi."

"Where's Debbie?" Zack inquired, glancing around the shack.

"I don't know, probably outside playing," the younger boy replied, gaze returning to his book. "I only woke up a few minutes ago."

Zack nodded, stretching and yawning, just as Sandra's eyes blinked open. She sat up quickly, rubbing at her eyes.

"Good morning," she said, the second word becoming near unintelligible as she yawned. When her greeting was returned she rubbed the back of her neck, fluffing out her tangled blonde hair, then walked over to the lockers.

Zack stood up, cramped legs cracking, and approached the door. Upon opening it he was, as always, hit with a blast of boiling sunlight.

He stepped outside, his toughened feet hardly affected by the hot sand. As he looked around he wiped away sweat that was already trickling down his back. The air smelled of dust and dried grass.

He walked around the side of the shack, careful not to touch the blisteringly hot sheets of metal on the exterior walls. For a moment he stared at the spot where he had talked with his mother, then turned back around. He brushed his fringe out of his eyes, hearing only the rustle of leaves in the warm breeze and the patter of bird feet on the roof.

Deborah was nowhere to be seen.

He hurried back inside, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Pete, seriously, have you seen Debbie this morning? Or heard her?" His heart was already pounding.

His brother looked up, brown eyes wide. "No, I told you. Didn't you see her out -"

"Debbie's missing?" Sandra cut into the conversation from where she was sitting on the bed. She was in the middle of tying her hair into a ponytail, and her expression was filled with fear as she finished the job. "When did you last see her? Who woke up first?"

"I woke first, about ten minutes ago. She wasn't inside then," Peter said, his tone anxious now as well. He closed the book he had been reading - The Big Book of Science - and put it on the floor.

"She was here last night when I went to bed," Zack said, his heart pounding faster still. Oh no.

Sandra stood up, hands clenched into fists. A vein was showing on her forehead.

"This isn't another prank, is it Peter?" she snapped, turning to him. He looked surprised, and shook his head. "No."

"Do either of you have any idea where she might be?"