RATS.

A few hours later I was kicking up the dust, heading away from the Oasis. I was fucking right again, humans in general are just a bunch of ungrateful cunts. They quickly forget about the good and focus on the bad. My throat hurt from swallowing dust and lack of hydration. Dun was nice enough to let me refill my flask, under the watchful eye of the few members of the town council. He was the only thing that stopped me from blasting their fucking heads off.

I only had meagre belongings to my name, that now fitted in the rucksack I carried over my shoulder and an old carabine banging against my leg. The collar of the duster still stunk of last night's vomit, but that wasn't the worst of it. The filtration unit in the Ranger helmet had stopped working, probably from neglect. I could only blame myself for not checking it once in a while, so the mask had to go. I was left with an old bandana wrapped around my neck to catch the radiated dust. Not the first time, I thought, as I checked the bag for RadAway, finding a couple of bags, luckily undamaged, alongside a few Stimpacks and a bottle of Rad-X. Drugs weren't allowed in Oasis, so I had kept them hidden.

This all reminded me of the beginning of another journey a long time ago, ten, maybe twelve years. I was young then, a dumb tribesman with dressed in a Vault jumpsuit and a spear to protect me from mutated scorpions. What a fucking joke. Still somehow, I managed to survive and currently this wasn't such a bad beginning. I almost smiled to myself, nostalgia bringing some sweet memories.

I followed the ridge down into the valley where my hideout was. Soon the valley narrowed into a gorge and it was a much cooler place. One could imagine moss would have grown out of the rock formations if water were present. But the only thing that would be present here would be a family of hungry and dangerous Golden geckos. Usually I would grab few iguana steaks and coerce them out in the open, they would be happy eating the meat while I gained access to my hideout. However, this time there was no sign of them and as I got closer, I smelled burning meat. I quickened my step, pulling the revolver from its holster and cocking it. At the entrance to the cave, I found their charred bodies. Who the hell would grill the geckos? Normally hunters would shoot them from the distance and then skin them for hides.

I cursed my luck and entered the cave. It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but soon I was able to navigate along the wall, revolver trained at the opening were the climbing spot was. I listened, but heard no sounds coming from the top gallery. Satisfied, I dropped the bag and the carabine and proceeded to climb the rock in a few steps, using one hand to support myself. There I could see footprints which didn't belong to me. Finally, I was over the top, where another small cavern opened up. The place was a mess.

'Fuucckkk' I kicked the empty can of pre-war food. The place had been ransacked. The first thing I saw was the RATS graffiti on the back wall where the old flag used to hang.

'What the fuck is RATS?' I fumed.

I went straight for the ammunition box, but it was empty except for loose gunpowder. The guns and lasers were gone, the Gauss rifle also gone. The locks on the lockers where I kept my power armour had been laser cut. I had nothing left, except for one thing. With some effort I managed to move the working bench away from the far wall of the cave. There, behind the wooden planks was hidden the thing that was dearest to me. The Pip-boy wrapped in a Vault-13 jumpsuit.

'Hope the dammed thing still works' I whispered, and then heard someone's heavy breathing coming from the entrance. I spun on my heels ready to fire. Dun's heavy breathing echoed as he struggled to lift himself up onto the ledge.

'Jim, what the heck happened here?' He was dragging behind him what presumably was a rifle wrapped in oiled cloth.

'RATS, apparently.' I pointed at the graffiti as I unwrapped the Pip-boy and placed it on the bench. There was no point in hiding anything from the old sheriff. Then it hit me.

'You didn't rat me out, you old son of a bitch?' I raised my weapon, anger rising up in me.

'No Jim. Would I come here now if I was the one who ratted you out? Don't make sense.'

I though for a moment. He wouldn't risk it. Though he was no coward, he knew I would come after him. Still, some small part of me wanted him to admit it. I was strung up and paranoid. I needed a drink.

'At least you still got the Pip-boy.'

'Indeed.' I unwrapped the fibrous jumpsuit and laid out the Pip-boy on the bench. The device wasn't functioning. Only an experienced doctor could install it without damaging neural pathways.

'Hey Jim.' Dun came up from behind and laid a hand on my shoulder. I held my breath, expecting a knife in the back.

'I am so sorry about the Council's decision. I couldn't do anything, they outvoted me. But I still feel like I betrayed you.'

'That's fine Dun.' I replied, my voice suddenly breaking on the lump inside my throat. I turned from the bench.

We hugged then, truly hugged like friends do. It has been a while since I had had some human connection on that deeper level.

Then he unwrapped the oiled cloth and laid the rifle on the bench.

'I know it isn't much, but it sure is better then that piece of junk you carry around.' It was a scoped hunting rifle, oiled and well looked after. He also produced a few boxes of ammunition and a bottle of whiskey and dumped them on the table.

I went for the bottle, but he stayed my arm.

'You need to get a grip on it, before it kills you.' But he let go in the end and walked up to the graffiti.

'Never heard of RATs, but the Sheriff in the NCR might know something.'

'Yeah, if they operate locally, they are most likely dumping some of the gear at the Bazaar. I wasn't planning to be heading that way, but I'll be dammed if I let those assholes get away with this.' I finally found a way to channel my anger.

'Or you could head to Reno?'

I just looked at the Dun and he bit his tongue straight away.

'Anyhow, I better get going before the Council decides I left with you and start electing a new sheriff.' Dun smiled and turned to walk back to the entrance.

'Thanks Dun. Thanks for everything, it's been a pleasure – mostly.' I said.

'Indeed, mostly.' He chuckled at that and began awkwardly climbing back down.

I was left alone.

The jumpsuit fitted perfectly, offering cool comfort. Despite a few holes here and there, the extraordinary material still held together and provided a great layer of protection. It had to be the most underrated of the pre-war inventions that had survived after so many years. I donned my ranger armour and a duster, packed the Pip-boy into the rucksack and headed back out into the Waste.