This is the second part of the ongoing Vault Dweller's Diary series. If you haven't already, click Vault Dweller's Diary on the right-hand side of the page to find your way to the list of stories and read the introduction or the first part (Monday, August 20th, 2277). Otherwise, click below to read!
Found Megaton yesterday. I didn’t have time to write about it, with all the excitement. There are a lot of weirdos in this town. The first thing I noticed about this town was the fact that it was completely walled in, by what looks like corrugated tin or aluminum or something. A real rust heap, really. Then, I noticed the Robco Protectron standing outside, a goofy cowboy hat worn jauntily on its orb and a big name tag hung around its neck that read “Deputy Weld.” It kept telling me to “Have a nice day, pardner.” Whoever put that thing outside has a really sick sense of humor.
As soon as I walked in the door, I was practically tackled by some tall guy wearing a duster. Called himself the sherriff and mayor of Megaton (with that rifle on his back, I’m guessing most people let him call himself that). His name’s Lucas Simms. He pointed me toward the doctor, so I could get myself treated for dehydration (I gave up on drinking the surface water after my last diary entry. Couldn’t keep it down anymore) and this radiation sickness (that’s what my Pip-Boy says is making me nauseous). He warned me that the doc only helped people that could “fork over the caps.” I wasn’t at all sure what he was talking about, so I excused myself and moved on.
On my way to the doctor’s, I found out why they call the town Megaton. I have to be very careful not to overstate this.
THEY BUILT THE TOWN AROUND A GOD DAMNED BOMB.
These people are nuts, they have to be. That’s a fucking nuke, sitting in the center of town, and they’re all walking around like they don’t see it. Hell, one guy was standing in the water in front of it and praying to it! I stumbled into the doc’s place and asked him what the hell was going on. The doc (a real asshole named Doc Church) just shrugged it off and told me to stop wasting his time. I asked him for help, and he refused unless I could pay him 50 “caps.” Apparently, bottle caps are money up here! I wish I’d known that before I left, I could’ve been rich. He pointed me toward Craterside Supply, told me to talk to Moira about getting some caps. So I did just that.
Moira’s nuts. Right off her fucking rocker. And that’s compared to the other people in town, so you get what I’m saying when I put it like that. I traded with her a bit, and she asked me to help her with the foreword of some Wasteland Survival Guide she’s writing. I told her a little about life in the vault, and to thank me she gave me a Vault 101 suit covered in armor! She said she’d made it for someone who escaped from the vault about 5 years ago and never came back for it. I’m not sure whether or not I should believe her. The best part of this is, she asked for my help in writing this book of hers; she wants me to go scavenging for food and medicine, that seems fine. But the next two concern me somewhat. She wants me to walk through a god damn minefield and bring her back a mine, and she wants me to get radiation sickness! Advanced radiation sickness, like, hand-growing-out-of-your-stomach radiation sickness! She’s flipped, but I agreed to it to shut her up. Besides, she promised me plenty of caps and weaponry.
Finally, I asked her about my dad, and she pointed me to this place called Moriarty’s. It’s a bar or a saloon or something. So, first things first, I go down and pay that sleazeball doc to fix me up, and as I’m walking out Simms pounces on me again. I ask him about the bomb, and he tells me all about the bizarre apathy these people have toward it. I figure most of them don’t give a fuck at this point if they get blown up, and why should they? Their lives suck. ‘Course, Simms cares, and he wants me to disarm it. Me! What the hell do I know about disarming nukes? I couldn’t handle anymore that day, so I stumbled off to the “common house,” found the least disgusting mattress I could, and laid down for some well-earned rest.
Today, I woke up to find some skeavy asshole standing over me. He just kept muttering about the Church of Atom (the crazies I saw praying in front of the bomb). I slipped past, and thankfully he didn’t engage me further. Being hungry, I headed down to the food shop I’d seen the night before, a place called the Brass Lantern. The woman outside was pretty cute; she introduced herself as Jenny. She seems like one of the most normal people in this god-forsaken dustbowl. She just wanted to sell me some food, maybe make some idle chit-chat. No suicidal jobs, no leaping down my throat. She was just pleasant.
Then some pirate-looking asshole sits down on the stool to my left. He seemed pleasant enough, I guess. Calls himself Billy Creel, he apparently used to be a caravan runner who settled down here after adopting some girl he’d found. I don’t know if I trust him yet; I wonder if he didn’t pick up that little girl for some other, more sinister reason.
Not much more to tell, really. I spent most of today in the back of Moira’s shop, digging through half-destroyed old books to see what I could find out about disarming bombs. I’ve made some headway, I think, and maybe I’ll figure out some way to do this (I can only hope). I’m off to Moriarty’s for now, more later.
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