Forks Wasteland

(Fuck Stephanie Meyers)

I’ve given quite a lot of thought to how I’d die. I’ve imagined innumerable scenarios in which I would. In some of these imagined situations, it’s by a deathclaw. Or cooked from the inside out by a radstorm, and or liquified by a plasma weapon. Or I’d have my throat cut by a raider. Sometimes I’d imagine dying by my hand if a gang of marauding slavers ever took me. They told us all kinds of messed-up stories in the Vault. 

The last few months haven’t changed that. I stared without breathing across the room, into the dark eyes of the hunter, and she looked pleasantly back at me. 

Surely it was a good way to die, even in the place of someone else, someone that I loved. Noble, even. That ought to count for something. 

I knew that if I had never gone to Forks, I would not be facing death now. But terrified as I was, I couldn’t bring myself to regret the decision. When life gives you lemons and all that, right? I’ve never tasted a lemon. I’d like to have. 

The hunter smiled in a friendly way as he sauntered forward to kill me. 

Edythe takes Bella back to her home.

Edythe and Bella fight some Bloatflies and go down to the irradiated river.

(sorry for the late update, i've been busy)

Edythe and Bella watch a movie when they should be learning biology. I guess everyone is distracted.

Bella Swan confronts Edythe Cullen.

I told Dad that I had some studying to do up in my room. Naturally, I took a few holotapes that I collected and ran them through my Pip-Boy, homie. He told me that he was going to be out late watching the local teams play a game called “brick ball”. The objective of such a game is to get a piece of rubble into a basket that’s mounted on a pole. If your enemy tries to, you’re supposed to sock him in the jaw hard enough to make him cry. Wastelanders are functionally the same as cavemen sometimes.  

I locked my door, placed my gun on my desk, and set about studying. I blasted all the best music the world has to offer: Bing Crosby, Bobby Claws, and of course, Dean Domino. I turned up the volume until my ears hurt. 

The light continued to intrude into my little world. I concentrated very carefully on the music, trying to understand the lyrics and unravel the complicated patterns. Gradually, things deteriorated like always. I was suddenly adrift in a sea of music where everything ceased making sense. 

It was then that the light was siphoned out of my room. I closed my eyes and when I opened them, I was back on Second Beach and the sky was steel grey. I wasn’t alone. I heard voices. I turned and saw Mike and Lauren running past me. 

“You have to run, Bella!” called out Mike. 

I didn’t understand what was happening. I turned and saw Edythe Cullen…Or something that had the same basic shape as Edythe Cullen. She was frighteningly large, naked, and gaunt. Her skin was mottled and so grey that it rivaled the sky above us. From her mouth protruded a mess of fangs like those of a deathclaw, sticking out in all directions, with especially prominent incisors. 

What was this thing? This frightmask of the girl I had a crush on. As she grew closer, I noticed immediately that her eyes were glowing red. It was as though there were fire pits at the center of her ink black eyeballs. 

“Trust me,” she hissed.

I started to take a step forward and tripped. 

I woke up with drool puddling next to my face at my desk. My Pip-Boy flashlight was still on, and I felt something on my leg. On the floor was a radroach, and I screamed and immediately kicked its head in.

“Die motherfucker die!” I screamed. 

---

Afterwards, I went downstairs to the kitchen and began to pore over a few of Dad’s books. He’d said he’d rescued them from an old library somewhere a few towns over. One of them was a water-damaged collection of comic books. Bizarre Tales: A Vampire Story was one that stood out to me. It was a story about a woman being pursued through the woods by a gigantic vampire bat that took on a manish shape before feasting on her neck in gruesome detail. Another was a book called ‘Salem’s Lot. Another vampire novel, of course. It was then that I started to realize that most of Dad’s books were about vampires in one way or another. Had I just seen all of these and they’d dripped into my subconscious? Varney the Vampire, The Vampyre, and the one that interested me the most was a little half-burned novella titled Carmilla.

I looked up the word in an encyclopedia. 

Throughout the vast shadowy world of ghosts and demons, there is no figure so terrible, no figure so abhorred, yet dight with such fearful fascination, as the vampire, who is himself neither ghost nor demon, but yet who partakes in the dark natures and possesses the mysterious and terrible qualities of both. - Reverend-Doctor Buffy Summers. 

I feel as though I have pretty normal hobbies. I sat in my room reciting the third act of Macbeth to myself. I was listening to the gentle roar of Prospero over the rain as he rested outside, tied up to a pole next to the house. 

I wasn’t looking forward to Friday, and it more than lived up to my non-expectations. Jessica seemed to get a kick out of my story. 

“A badass like you from the wastes getting a bit scared over a little blood?” she chittered. “And…You got the attention of Edythe Cullen, eh? What did she want yesterday?” 

“I don’t know,” I said. “She never really got to the point.” 

“You looked kind of mad during lunch,” she fished. 

“Did I?” I kept my expression blank, cool, and collected. I’m like a fun statue made of sterling silver. 

“You know,” she said. “I’ve never seen her sit with anyone but her family before. It was weird seeing her all alone.” 

“Weird,” I agreed. She seemed annoyed, so she tossed her long dark curls impatiently. I guess she was annoyed that I didn’t spill any tea about what had been said. Nothing particularly fun to gab about. 

The worst part about Friday was that I knew she wasn’t going to be there. I had hoped that when I walked into the cafeteria that she’d be there, though. I imagined innumerable things. I imagined a raider attack or perhaps lost super mutants trolling in and wrecking shit. All kinds of horrors danced in my mind, and in not one of them was Edythe Cullen absent. 

I entered that cafeteria and spotted the Cullens all grouped, huddled at their table like a nest of birds. This couldn’t stop the gloom that engulfed me. 

At my usual table, everyone was full of our plans for the weekend. We’d make the hike to the beach and probably have to spend the day fighting with radioactive monsters for a spot on the beach to suntan and cull the water from any of the more aquatic abominations so we could safely swim. The local amateur meteorologist was a chem-addict named Dizzy. Dizzy shot up a bunch of Psycho, and after violently jerking off, he was said to be able to accurately predict the weather. Naturally, Mike consulted him and said that it would be warmer than today. Almost sixty degrees. Maybe the outing wouldn’t be completely miserable. 

I caught a few unfriendly glances from Modern Lauren during lunch, which I didn’t understand until we were all walking out of the room together. I was right behind her, just a foot from her shaved head, and she was aware of that.

“...don’t know why Bella,” she sneered at my name. “Doesn’t just sit with those Cullens.” 

I heard her muttering to Mike. I’d never noticed what an unpleasant and nasally voice she had. It made her sound like radio advertisements featuring everyone’s favorite soda mascot, Cappy. I considered tripping her and laughing at the result, but thought better of it. She carried a big ol’ knife with her. 

“She’s our friend and she’s going with us,” said Mike, loyal like a puppy and territorial. Also like a puppy. I never liked dogs, frankly. 

---

That night, at dinner, I explained to Dad the plan for Saturday. We would make a trip out to Second Beach in the morning. I think he felt a touch guilty about not being home during the weekend. 

“Do you know a place called Goat Rocks or something like that?” I asked. 

“Yeah, why?” 

I shrugged. “I was thinking about maybe going camping there with some people.” 

“It’s not a very good place for camping,” he said. “Too many yao-guai. Folks only head out there if they’re hunting for dangerous game.” 

“Oh,” I said. “I guess I got the name wrong.”

---

The sunlight woke me up the next day. I opened my eyes to see clear yellow light streaming in through my window. I couldn’t believe it. I hurried to the window to check, and fure sure there was the sun. It was as if God himself was casting his rays down upon me and laughing. 

“Hahahaha!” shouted God in my mind. “Fuck you, Bella Swan!”

We gathered supplies and loaded them onto the backs of our respective mounts. I loaded Prospero up with canned goods and boxes of bullets in case things got rough. Bottled water, so I didn’t have to resort to radioactive puddles. Naturally, I also brought a ton of Rad-X and Radaway. I’m not an idiot. I’m not turning into a ghoul on this trip into the wastes. 

Mike rolled up on a hayburner, a sort of mutated horse with a set of useless antlers that he’d decorated with battery-operated Christmas lights. He was joined by Eric, who was astride a slepnir. Jess was flanked by Angela and Lauren, who shared a deathclaw mount like me. Lauren looked out through her policeman’s sunglasses scornfully. 

At least Mike, sweet, stupid Mike, was happy to see me.

“You came!” he called, delighted. “It’s sunny, see how I refuse to fail!” 

“I told you I was coming,” I said. 

“Irrelevant!” he shouted. 

“We’re just waiting for Lee and Samantha….Unless you invited someone,” added Mike. 

“Nope,” I lied, hoping I wouldn’t get caught in a lie. But I had wished that Edythe would materialize. Mike looked satisfied.

---

It was only fifteen miles to the La Push settlement and beach from Forks, with most of the path being made up of dense green forests and the rusted hulks of cars lining the backroads. I was glad to be on the trip.

The water of Second Beach was dark grey, even in the sunlight. White caps heaved into the grey rocky shore. Islands rose out of the steel harbor waters with sheer cliff sides with austere soaring furs. In the distance, I could see the corpses of ancient ships, and along the beach, I could see mirelurks scuttling. 

We got to the edge of a cliff and lined up our respective weapons, and started to open fire on the mirelurks. Shots rained down upon the horrible mutant crabs, sending their shells flying in all directions. 

I must say that it was a delight. I found myself hooting and hollering like a kid as I let the lead fly from my assault rifle. I didn’t stop until the gun clicked dry.

We piled up dried branches into a cone-shaped construction and set it ablaze, and cooked our bullet-riddled enemies. Sure, the food was radioactive, but there’s something kind of primal and wonderful about killing and eating something that wants to kill and eat you.

“You ever had a driftwood fire?” asked Mike. 

I was sitting on the hollowed-out shell of a mirelurk that was half-submerged in the sand. 

“No,” I said.

“The colors are nice, aren’t they?” he said.

“Sure,” I said.

It’s true, the fire was a pretty blue color from all the salt that had been soaked into the branches that we’d found. They crackled up towards the sky in a display of green and blue. 

We would have hiked through the woods, but I spotted a deathclaw, an actual, big monster with claws wandering around, and we decided against it. Lauren gave me shit for it, but I told her to go to hell.

I think I’m pretty rad, in a general sense, not a radioactive sense. Banner wasn’t in the chemistry lab when I saddled up inside. I quickly took my seat, aware that both Mike and Angela were staring at me. Angela looked surprised and slightly resentful. Mike had a placid expression, like that of an ancient statue, cold, unreadable, akin to Christ after a fashion. Eventually, when Banner entered, he was carrying a few boxes of supplies. I should probably mention here that Banner is one of those Super Mutants that I’d heard about from the coasts. Big motherfucker is how I’d describe him, but friendly as can be. He was carrying several wooden crates like they were nothing before placing them down on Mike’s table, telling him to start passing them around the class.

“Alright, folks, I want you all lto take one piece from each box,” he said as he produced a pair of rubber gloves that were probably made somewhere in Cali to fit his humongous mitts.

Everyone else took out a set of gloves that fit normal, human-shaped hands.

“The first thing you pull out should be an indicator card,” he went on, demonstrating by grabbing a white card with four squares marked on it and displaying it. “The second is a four-pronged applicator-” he held up something that looked like a toothless hair pick. “-and the third is a sterile micro-lancet.”

He held up a small blue piece of plastic and split it open. It was dwarfed in his giant hands. The barb was invisible from the distance I was seated at, but my stomach flipped.

“You’re all adults, so just add a droplet of water to prepare your cards, but don’t start so quickly. Ease into it. As you would with a lover. But I wouldn’t know that, on account of being a big green mutant monster,” said Banner, apropos of nothing. “Then when you add the water, prick your fingers with the lancet…” 

He demonstrated this by seizing Mike’s hand and jabbing the little prong into his middle finger. Mike screamed and screamed, and oh, how wonderful that was. 

“Put a small drop of blood on each of the prongs.” Banner demonstrated by squeezing Mike’s finger like a tube of toothpaste until the blood squirted out. I’m a cold motherfucker when it comes to violence, but the clinical drawing of blood makes my stomach turn something fierce. 

“Then apply it to the card,” he finished, holding up the red card for all of us to see. 

“We are holding a blood drive to help those in town and the surrounding areas who need access to healthy blood. So, I thought you all ought to know your blood type. I cannot donate my blood on account of being a Super Mutant, so if you can donate, please do,” continued Banner.

I heard squeals and complaints throughout the room, and when Banner noticed I wasn’t participating, he frowned. “Bella, are you alright?”

“I already know my blood type,” I said. “It was standard practice in the vault.” 

My voice was quiet and weak. 

“Are you feeling faint?” 

“Yes,” I lied, internally kicking myself for not ditching with Edythe when the chance presented itself. We could have been necking in the woods right then.

“Will someone escort Bella to the staff nurse?” he called out.

I already knew that placid Mike was easter to take me, and he’d already done his bloody work. 

“Can you walk?” asked Banner. 

“Yes,” I whispered. I was just eager to leave all this nonsense behind. I thought. I could crawl. Mike seemed just as eager. I cannot imagine why, though. It’s a real mystery, that one. I noticed as he walked me out that his middle finger was the color of a mutfruit. 

He towed me across campus, out of sight of building four and Banner. 

“Whoa, you’re almost as green as Banner,” quipped Mike. 

“Bella?” came a woman’s voice. 

Edythe had entered the scene, looking dazzling as ever. 

“What’s wrong? Is she hurt?” she asked. 

Mike seemed stressed. “I think she’s going to faint.” 

“What happened?” asked Edythe. 

I toppled over. Maybe I could be a fairytale princess for once and be kissed to life by this beautiful, pasty knight. 

“Bella,” repeated Edythe. “Can you hear me.” 

“Piss off,” I groaned. 

She chuckled. 

“I was taking her to the staff nurse,” explained Mike, scared shitless. 

“I’ll take her,” said Edythe, expertly scooping me up and carrying me bridal style. If I wasn’t feeling faint before, I certainly was then. 

“Go back to class,” said Edythe.

“No,” protested Mike. “I’m supposed to do it.” 

“Put me down,” I said, half-heartedly. “

Instead, both Mike and Edythe escorted me to the staff nurse. He was a brutal-looking man who was about six feet tall and was missing an eye. But he had the softest voice, like a castrato. His name was Cope. 

“She fainted in biology,” said Mike. 

“She fainted outside of biology,” said Edythe, correcting him.

“Oh, whatever,” said Mike. 

Cope made a weird little laugh and then said. “There’s always one. Just lay her down and it’ll pass eventually.” 

“Does this happen a lot?” Cope asked me when I regained a bit of consciousness. 

“Sometimes,” I admitted. “I’m not good in…what you might call medical settings.” 

Edythe snickered. I wanted to either kiss her or box her ears. 

“You were right,” I said to Edythe when Cope bustled out of the room.

“Often, but what am I right about at the moment?” asked Edythe.

“Ditching is healthy,” I said. 

“You had me scared for a minute,” she said, after a pause. Her tone made it sound like she was confessing to a humiliating weakness. I should be the one feeling like that. How am I supposed to be the big, tough guard if everyone knows I faint at the sight of a little blood in a non-combat setting? “I thought Newton was dragging your dead body off to feed it to some scavengers in the woods.” 

“That’s specific and frightening,” I said with a laugh.

“Honestly, I’ve seen corpses with better color. I was concerned I might have to avenge your murder, Silver Shroud style,” she said. 

“I am standing right here,” said Mike. 

We ignored him and eventually he left in a huff. 

“He absolutely despises me,” said Edythe. 

“No shit,” I said. 

“How did you see us? I thought you were ditching,” I asked. 

“I was sitting on my deathclaw listening to holotapes when I spotted Newton walking you around.” 

“Listening to anything good?” I asked. 

Before she could answer,  I saw Cope haul in another person. I hopped off the cot for the next fainter. I helped the nurse hold a compress on the boy’s still unconscious head. It was sallow-looking Lee Stephens. 

“Oh no,” said Edythe. “Go out to the office, Bella.” 

I looked up at her, bewildered.

I knew what was up the second she spoke, though. I could smell copper as blood tinged the air. 

As we left, I asked Edythe, “So are you going this weekend?”

“To?” she cocked her head to the side, confused. 

“The beach, the beach trip.” 

I made my way to the English course taught by Mr. Mason in a daze. I was supposed to be the teaching assistant, but I felt more like a student who’d arrived late. Especially when that son of a bit decided to condescend to me. 

“Thank you for joining us, Miss Swan,” he said. “I have things underway right now, have a seat and I’ll let you know if I need anything.” 

It wasn’t until class ended that I realized that Mike wasn’t sitting in his usual seat beside me. I felt this tiny little twinge of guilt. I met with him and Eric after things let out. The weather had taken a positive turn, and the storms were supposed to subside,  so maybe a trip to the beach was possible. We got lucky. No sympathy for the devil. 

The rest of the morning passed by in a blur. It was difficult to believe that I had imagined what Edyth had said. The way she looked and everything had me in a tailspin. I wanted more than anything for it to be fake because I wanted to appeal to her on any level. 

So, naturally, I was impatient and frightened as Jessica and I entered the cafeteria. I wanted to see her face, to see if she’d gone back to the cold and indifferent person I’d known for the last several weeks. Or, if by some miracle, I had hallucinated and she wanted my company.

Disappointment flooded through me as my eyes unerringly focused on her table. The other four were there, but she was absent. Had she gone home? I followed the babbling jackass, Jessica, through the line, crushed. I’d lost my appetite. I bought a bottle of Nuka Cola. I wanted to sit and sulk with my soda, thank you very much.   

“Hey bitch,” said Jessica. Finally breaking through my distraction. “I just wanted to inform you that Edythe Cullen is staring at you again. I wonder why she’s sitting alone today.” 

‘Did you have to call me a bitch?’ should have been my immediate reaction, but instead, my head snapped around, and I followed Jessica’s gaze to see Edythe, smiling crookedly, staring at me from an empty table across the cafeteria where she usually sat. Once she’d caught my eye, she raised one hand and did a fine come-hither motion to me. I stared in disbelief, and she winked. 

Jessica made a polite little laugh. “She’s so down bad for you. Go over there.” 

“She probably needs help with her biology work,” I muttered for her benefit. “I'd better go see what she wants.” 

When I reached the table, I stood behind a chair across from her, unsure. 

“Why don’t you sit with me today?” she asked, smiling. 

Without really thinking, I sat down automatically, but I still watched her with caution. She was still smiling, but it was hard to believe that anyone so beautiful could be real. I was afraid that she might disappear in a puff of smoke, and I would wake up horny and annoyed. 

She seemed to be waiting for me to say something.

“This is different,” I finally managed.

“Well…” she paused, and then the rest of the words came out, like a dam had burst. “I decided as long as I was going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly.” 

She was being cryptic again, and I wanted nothing more than to shut her up with my mouth. 

“You know, that makes absolutely no sense,” I pointed out.

“I know.” She smiled again and changed the subject. “I think your friends are mad at me for stealing you away.” 

“They’ll survive,” I said. 

“I might not give you back, though,” she said with a wicked glint in her eyes.  “I might just keep you forever, Bella Swan.” 

I gulped. I don’t know why I did, frankly, the way she said it sounded unbelievably hot, like you have no idea. The girls back at the vault were hardly that smooth.

She laughed. “You look worried.” 

“No,” I said, but my voice broke. I was thirteen again and talking to Amanda Casdin, my first crush. I coughed and cleared my throat. “I’m surprised, actually. What  brought all this on?”

“I told you,” she said. She stood up and whispered in my ear, and I could hear only her voice and the thudding of my heart. “I got tired of trying to stay away from you, so I’m giving up.” 

“Giving up?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “Giving up trying to be good. I’m just going to do what i want now. Let the chips fall where they may.” 

“Holy shit,” I muttered.

She pulled back, and I spotted that crooked smile again. 

“I said way too much,” she said, combing her hair back with her fingers. 

“Don’t worry,  I didn’t understand any of it,” I said. 

“I’m counting on that,” said Edythe.

“So…are we friends now?” 

“Friends…” she mused, dubious. She grinned. “I guess we can try. But I’m warning you now that I’m not a very good friend for you.” 

“You say that a lot,” I said, trying to quiet the fluttering in my stomach.

“Yes,” she said. “Because you’re not listening to me. I’m waiting for you to believe me. If you’re smart, you’d avoid me.” 

“I’ll have you know I have a solid 7 Intelligence on the standard SPECIAL test,” I said. 

“That test was invented by eugenicists,” said Edythe. 

I frowned. “Well…Still, as long as I’m not being smart, we’ll try to be friends?” 

“Sounds about right.”

I looked down at my hand wrapped in a death grip around the Nuka Cola in its groovy rocket-shaped bottle.  

“What are you thinking about?” she asked me.

“I’m trying to figure out what you are.” 

“Lovely,” said Edythe. “Are you having any Luck?” 

“Not too much,” I said. I scored low on that. 

She chuckled. “What are your theories?” 

I blushed. I wouldn’t admit this to anyone, but I thought she was a character torn straight from a comic book or a radio drama. Like the Mystress of Mystery or the Inspector. There was no way in hell I was going to tell her that. I’m not a fucking nerd, guys. 

“Won’t you tell me?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. 

“Too embarrassing,” I said. 

“Try me,” she said. 

I kept quiet. 

“You know, that’s very frustrating,” she said.

“No,” I disagreed quickly, my eyes narrowing, “I can’t imagine why that would be frustrating at all, but because someone refuses to tell you what they’re thinking, even while they’re making cryptic little quips specifically designed to keep you up at night, wondering. Isn’t that a tad frustrating?” 

“So you’ve been up thinking about me?” she smirked. “You got a bit of a temper on you.” 

“What’s it to you?” 

We stared at each other, unsmiling. She glanced over my shoulder, and then, unexpectedly, she snickered. 

“What?” 

“Your gang there seems to think I’m being unkind to you; they’re debating whether or not they need to beat my ass or not.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said frostily. “But I’m sure you’re wrong, anyway.” 

“I’m not,” she said. “Most people are easy to read.” 

“Except for me?” 

“Yes, except for you…I wonder why that is,” her mood shifted suddenly, her eyes turned brooding.

I had to look away from the intensity of the stare. I dug my thumb under the cap of the Nuka Cola and pried it off. 

(1 Bottle Cap Added)

“Damn, that isn’t a twist off,” she muttered, suddenly shaken out of her brooding. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“No,” I said. I didn’t feel like it with my stomach full of butterflies. “You?” 

“I’m not hungry…at least…not that kind of hungry,” she smirked again, and I felt my face burn. It was simultaneously hot and like I was on the receiving end of a joke only she knew. 

“Can you do me a favor?” I asked after a second of hesitation. 

She was suddenly wary. “That depends on what you want.” 

“It’s not much,” I assured her.

She waited, guarded, but curious. 

“I wondered if you could warn me the next time you decide to ignore me for my own good. Just so im prepared.” 

I took a swig from my bottle of soda. Afterwards, I locked eyes with her while tracing the lip of it with my pinkie finger. 

“That sounds fair.” She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. 

“Thanks.” 

“But I want something in return,” she said.

“What?” 

“Tell me one theory,” she said. 

Shit. “Nope, not that one.” 

“You didn’t qualify, you promised me one thing,” she said. 

“And you’ve broken promises yourself,” I reminded. 

“Just one little theory, I promise I won’t laugh.” She looked at me through her long black lashes, black eyes that felt scorching. 

“What?” I asked in a daze.

“Please tell me one little theory.” 

“Um, well…Are you a superhero?” Was she a hypnotist, too? Or was I just a hopeless pushover?

“That’s not super creative,” she scoffed.

“That’s what I’ve got,” I said, miffed.

“Not even a little close,” she said.

“No super strength?” 

“Meh,” she said.

“No radioactivity?” 

“Completely unbothered by radiation,” she said.

She chuckled. 

“You weren’t supposed to laugh, remember?” 

She struggled to compose her face. 

“I’ll figure it out eventually,” I warned her. 

“I wish you wouldn’t try,” she said, all serious again. 

“Because…?” 

“What if I’m not the superhero? What if I’m the villain?” she smiled playfully, but her eyes were impenetrable.” 

“Oh,” I said as several things she’d hinted at fell into place. “I see.” 

“Do you?” 

“You’re dangerous?” I guess, hoping I was right.

She just looked at me with eyes full of some emotion I couldn’t quite comprehend.

“But not bad,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I don’t believe you’re bad.” 

“You’re wrong to believe that,” she said, her voice almost inaudible. 

The silence was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. 

“I’m not going to class today,” she said. 

“Why not?” 

“It’s healthy to ditch now and then,” she smiled at me, but her eyes were still troubled.

“Well, I’m going,” I said

I’ve only seen a Glowing One once in my life. It was from a distance, but it was impossible to mistake it for anything else. We were marching through Nevada and I saw it on the edge of a cliff, howling. Edythe appeared to me in my dreams looking much the same. Her skin was glowing, though it wasn’t the radioactive green of the ghoul; it was bright like the shimmer of a gemstone. She was walking away from me and no matter how fast I ran, I never seemed to be able to catch her. She never turned to face me. 

The month that followed the accident was uneasy, tense, and at first, embarrassing. 

To my complete dismay, I found that I had become the object of attention for the rest of the week. Chemistry student, Tina Crowley (the owner of the deathclaw) was impossible, following me around, obsessed with trying to make amends with me somehow. I tried to convince her that what I wanted was for her to forget all about it, especially since I was untouched by the monster. She followed me on patrol, to the classes, and even at the lunch table. Mike and Eric were not as friendly towards her as I would have liked, which made me worry that I had gained another unwelcome fan. No one seemed concerned about Edythe. It was as though they’d forgotten that she was even involved. That she was the hero who supposedly pulled me out of the way and kept me from being stomped to death. 

I wondered why nobody else seemed convinced of how weird the situation was, despite it happening in broad daylight. I realized, much to my chagrin, that despite her ethereal beauty, nobody was as aware of Edythe as I was. People avoided her as usual. The Cullens and the Hales sat at the same table as always, not eating, talking only among themselves. None of them, especially Edythe, glanced my way anymore. When she sat next to me in class, it was as far away as the table would permit. 

I decided to be the forceful one and said. “Hello, Edythe.” 

I tried to present myself as a well-behaved subject. She turned her head a fraction towards me without meeting my gaze, nodded once, and then looked the other way. 

And that was the last contact I’d had with her. She was a foot away from me every day. I watched her sometimes, unable to stop myself from staring. I watched her red-rimmed eyes grow perceptibly darker day by day, but she gave no notice of me. The dreams continued. 

The snow washed away for good after that one dangerously icy day. Mike was disappointed that he’d never gotten to stage a snowball fight against the local children, but he was pleased that a trip to the beach would soon be possible (he’d even brewed up a supply of rad-x and radaway so we could go swimming). The rain continued heavily, pounding at the earth like nails in a coffin. 

Jessica made me aware of another event that was looming on the horizon, the Fork’s Festival of the Dead. The custom was wholly foreign and alien to me, but I was fascinated. She said that during the night, everyone would dance and drink and wear animal masks. Kind of like halloween. 

“Are you planning on asking here to the dance?” asked Jessica. 

“No,” I said. “Dancing is far outside of my range of abilities.” 

“It’ll be really fun,” said Jessica. “We can drink corn liquor and get trashed and have a blast. Y’know?” 

“You can have fun with Mike,” I encouraged. 

Later, during lunch, I saw Jessica sitting as far away from Mike as possible, chatting animatedly with Eric. Mike was unusually quiet. Mike would sulk and perform his rounds, but he looked impossibly tired. 

I found out later he was bereaved because Jessica had asked him to the festival instead of me. I told him to piss off. 

Later I found myself once more sitting beside Edythe. 

“Bella?” her voice shouldn’t have been so familiar to me, as if I’d known it all my life rather than just for a few short weeks. I turned slowly, unwillingly. I didn’t want to feel what I would feel when I looked at her too-perfect face. My expression was weary, hers was totally unreadable. 

“What?” I asked. “Are you speaking to me again?’

Her lips twitched, fighting back a smile. “No, not really.”

“What do you want, Edythe?”  I asked, trying to not sound so damned petulant. 

“I’m sorry.” She sounded sincere. “I’m being very rude, I know. But it’s better this way, really.” 

Her face was serious.

“I don’t know what you mean,”  I said in a guarded tone. 

“It’s better if we’re not friends,” she explained. “Trust me.” 

“It’s too bad you didn’t figure that out earlier,” I hissed. “Could have saved yourself all this regret.” 

“Regret?” The word and my tone obviously caught her off guard. “Regret for what?” 

“For not letting that stupid deathclaw squish me.” She was astonished. She stared at me in disbelief.

“Do you think I regret saving your life?”

“I know you do,” I snapped.

“You don’t know anything, arrogant little thing.” She was definitely mad and I was here for it. I turned my head away sharply, clenching my jaw against the wild accusations I wanted to hurl at her. I gathered my shit, then stood and walked out the door. I meant to sweep away dramatically, but instead I caught my foot against the wall and took a tumble, sending my shit flying everywhere. Edythe walked over and helped me gather my stuff. 

“Thank you,” I said icily.

Her eyes narrowed.

“You’re welcome,” she retorted. 

I straightened my back out and walked away. Part of me hoped that she was watching as I trotted off. 

When I woke up, there was no fog veiling my window. The sky was grey and green beams of light passed through the haze of morning and seemed to tint everything around me that horrible, radioactive green. My Pip-Boy’s geiger counter click, click, clicked. But I did not run my ass out of there to a second location; everything was as fine as could be, considering the circumstances. 

I jumped up and looked outside with horror. The ground was dusted with a layer of snow. Naturally, I threw on my coat and began to ready myself for the day ahead. 

Prospero was somehow unbothered by the cold, despite being a gigantic reptile horror. Though all the rain from the previous day had frozen solid, coating the needles of the trees in fine, frozen patterns and making the walkways deadly slick. I had enough trouble not falling down as it was dry.

Charlie left for work, so I spent a solid hour by myself in my room, eating a bag of Frosted Sugar Bombs and hating life, as you do. I was excited to go to the camp, and that scared me. I knew it wasn’t the stimulating learning environment or seeing that group of people who thought of themselves as my friends. I was excited because I would get to see Edythe Cullen. And that was very, very stupid. I should be avoiding her after I behaved like a brainless dolt and embarrassed myself by babbling. And was I suspicious of her and her perfect looks? Perhaps. 

I arrived at the old school, and my mind was still on Edythe as i subconsciously compared her to other girls I’d been close with in the vault…Or that one shy New Canaanite girl who couldn’t stop talking about her pet slepnir back home, named Lucky. 

Prospero blew through snowbanks like a goddamn tank, and I love him for it. 

When I stepped off him and into the parking lot, I wasn’t paying attention. I was being stupid. I hadn’t noticed that another one of the domesticated deathclaws had gotten off his lead and was barrelling towards me. They wouldn’t have eaten me like their carnivorous cousins, but they were dangerous all the same when untrained. 

It was a low growling and reptile grunting that was fast becoming loud. I was between it and the fence. I thought this was it. I was about to be pancaked.

I saw several things simultaneously. Nothing was moving in slow motion like it does in old flicks. Instead, the adrenaline rush seemed to make my brain move faster. I was able to absorb in clear detail several things at once. 

Edythe Cullen was standing a few feet away from me, staring in horror. Her face stood out in a sea of other faces, all frozen in the same mask of shock. But more immediately was the dark blue deathclaw barreling towards me. I didn’t even have time to close my eyes.

Just before I heard the shattering crunch of my bones, I turned and saw something. The beast was held back, just a few feet from me, by Edythe. Its feet slid on the ice as it ran in place, held back by a single hand. Edythe’s free hand rested on my belly, and I felt myself shiver. 

“Bella? Are you alright?” she asked.

“I’m fine,” I said. My voice sounded strange. I stood up straight, and I felt her twirl me around and hold the side of her body against my own. She had an iron grasp. 

“Be careful,” she warned as I didn’t struggle. “I think you hit your head pretty hard.” 

I didn’t think I had, but I became acutely aware of this throbbing ache centered above my left ear. 

“What the hell? How in the…” I trailed off, trying to clear my head and get my bearings. “How did you get over here so fast?”

“I was standing right next to you, Bella,” she said. Her tone serious. 

That couldn’t be right. I looked at her concerned, innocent expression and was disoriented again by her red-rimmed eyes. The deathclaw stopped running, and someone grabbed the creature by the reins and was escorting it away from us. 

I was looked over by Doctor Cullen, and there wasn’t a scratch on me. The deathclaw hadn’t even come close to knocking me over, even pulping my toes. 

I know for a fact Edythe stopped the deathclaw. I saw it happen right before my eyes, even if I cannot prove it. The other people there didn’t get a good look at what happened, but I know what I saw, goddamn it. 

The next day wasn’t much better, if I’m being frank. It wasn’t quite storming just yet, but green glowing clouds were overhead.  It was easier because I knew what to expect from my day. Eric whatshisname approached me yet again and introduced me to a bunch of people I barely remember. Mike, Jessica, and a few others who aren’t nearly as distinct. I began to feel like I was treading water instead of drowning in it. 

I couldn’t sleep the previous night because of these odd dreams. As I slept, I felt as though I could sense this unholy presence just outside my window. Like a black shape had taken up residence just outside, and I could feel its form stretch across and blight the whole room. This feeling of depression was only made worse because Edythe Cullen wasn’t at the camp. All morning, I had been both dreading and hoping to be met by her bizarre glares. Part of me wanted to confront her and demand to know what her problem was. Another part of me wanted to grab a hold of her head and kiss along her jawline. But both are scenarios I imagined far too often in the moments between waking and dreaming. I knew deep down, I wasn’t that brazen. 

I did my rounds, I attended the classes, and yet, Edythe did not materialize. Nothing odd about that, though. Anarchist groups like the Followers are lax about attendance. Mike was talking about some trip to the beach, but I was ignoring him. 

By the time chemistry rolled around, I was thoroughly exhausted and relieved to have the bench to myself. Maybe then I could focus without her here and get some learning done. Though part of me believed myself to be the cause of her absence, as absurd as that might seem. How much of an ego do I need to have to believe myself capable of forcing someone away with a few lingering glances?

---

After the day was over, I made my way to the Forks market, a row of stalls that sold everything from guns to salmon chowder. I even saw one man who was at a noodle stall, claiming that he’d managed to domesticate a gulper from an egg, and he was keeping it on his fishing schooner. 

That’s when I saw them. I spied the Cullens weaving through the stalls, drawing just as many looks from the typical residents as they did from me. 

I ducked behind a wall, not wanting to be seen by them. 

---

When I arrived home, I took up a copy of Wuthering Heights with its battered blue cover that Mister Mason had lent me. That’s when Charlie arrived home and set to cooking. I quickly found that the extent of my father’s gastronomic talents began and ended with smoked brahmin belly and eggs. 

It was our breakfast, and it was going to be our dinner. 

“Bella?” he called out before I emerged from the stairwell. 

“Hey, Dad, welcome home.” 

“Thanks,” he said as he hung up his gun belt and stepped out of his boots as I entered the kitchen with him. He went to a fridge that hadn’t had power since the bombs dropped, and he produced four eggs

“Did you have a good day with the Followers?” he asked. 

“Decent, decent enough,” I said, y’know, like a liar. “I’ve made a few acquaintances. This guy, Mike, and a girl, Jessica. They seem nice…I suppose.” 

“Mike Newton? He seems to be a fine young man, Jessica too, if you’re still…” said Charlie before trailing off. 

“Yeah, neither are exactly my type,” I said. “Do you know the Cullens at all?” 

“I know the doctors Cullen, yeah. They’re fine people, too. The kids, though, they’re a little funny.” 

Charlie surprised me by looking angry.

“God, this town,” he muttered. “The guy, Carlisle, he’s a brilliant surgeon. His wife is something of a therapist. They could work anywhere in the world, and they chose to help out here rather than in the bigger settlements. We’re lucky to have them, and people like to run their mouths.” 

It was the longest speech I’d ever heard him make. He felt strongly about these people, and I could see in his eyes that he’d been somewhat hurt by some things people have said. 

---

I didn’t sleep at night. At least, that’s how it felt. I lay in bed frozen while my head was stuck on my door. All I can recall is a pair of red eyes glowing through the endless night. 

The next day passed as before, still no Edythe. A radstorm kept everyone inside for most of the day. 

The weekend passed without incident, and on Monday, I found myself being approached by Edythe Cullen. I was digging into a mutfruit like a savage beast when she approached my table, looking for all the world like an angel, while I felt like an ape. 

“My name is Edythe Cullen,” she said. “I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Bella Swan.” 

My mind spun with confusion. Had I made everything up? Was this some kind of odd hallucination? I had to speak, I had to swallow the juice-laden fruit in my mouth. I wiped berry juice from my face and smiled a bit. 

“How do you know my name?” I asked. 

She laughed, a soft, enchanting laugh. I was like putty in her hands. 

“Oh, I think everyone knows your name,” she said. “The whole town has been waiting for your arrival. Following your little reports on the radio-o-o.” 

She punctuated the word radio with a sing-song tone. 

I grimaced. I knew it was something like that. 

“No,” I persisted, like a fucking moron. “I meant, why did you call me Bella?”

She seemed confused, “Do you prefer Isabella?” 

“No, I mean…my Dad must have been calling me Isabella behind my back, so that’s what most folks have been calling me.”

I felt like an utter moron. 

“Oh,” she let the point drop awkwardly. 

Thankfully, lunch was concluding soon, and we both parted from one another, but then we ended up in a biology lab together, where we dissected a radroach and we had to identify the edible portions of it. At least, the bits that were less likely to give you radiation poisoning than the others. 

“Get started,” she said in a commanding tone.

“Yes ma’am,” I said, only half aware of the odd submissiveness that I’d allowed to creep into my voice. 

I slit the dead radroach open, along the horizontal of its body, prying it open so we could have a full split section of its juicy meats. I wasn’t overly fond of the meat of the radroach (who is, really?) However, I had expected a reaction from Edythe when it was split open. Either disgust or hunger, but neither was present on her face. 

As I went to return the scalpel, my hand totally and completely unintentionally grazed hers, and I found that her fingers were ice cold, like she’d been sitting in a snowdrift right before class. I jerked my hand away suddenly, like I had been shocked, and it was noticeable enough for everyone in the lab to look at me.

I was in a caravan. Part of a load of others that were coming up through Washington from Utah. The caravan workers were New Caananites, so naturally, I didn’t trust them. They had trained these docile, deathclaw-like beasts to carry their loads and pull their carts. They were herbivorous and sturdy, unlike their large feral cousins. They kept to themselves and took their caps as they brought us into the immense vastness. I’d never seen that many trees in my life. Or trees, period, for that matter. 

I was dressed in a sleeveless shirt with a white eyelet lace. My only carry-on item besides the supplies in my bag was a Brahmin skin coat. 

In the Olimpic Peninsula of the land formerly known as northwest Washington, there exists a small settlement that still uses the name Forks. It exists under a near-constant state of cloud coverage. The rain is nearly constant. I had been to this town once before as a baby, but the memory hardly sticks in my mind. I’m only happy that my dad, Sheriff Charlie, is still around. He’s the closest thing the town has to a mayor or government. He and a handful of deputized citizens. 

It was here that we were both exiles. Exiles from the vault, exiles from Utah. But I was self-exiled, and I took that with great horror. I detested Forks. 

I loved Vault-97, I loved the gleam of the artificial sun lamps. 

“Bella,” my mother had said to me a thousand times before I left. “You don’t have to do this.” 

My mother looks like me, except with short hair and laugh lines. I didn’t want to stay because, since dad had fucked off to Washington, she’d started hooking up with the overseer of the vault, and I felt like that was too uncomfortable a situation for me to be in. So, I left.  I took a gun and a bag with me and radioed Dad my location on the road between us. He always told me there was a place for me in Forks. Mom and Phil could have their fun, but I didn’t want to be anywhere near them and their vaguely cringe-inducing relationship. 

Months passed on the road. I found myself embroiled in gunfights with raiders, various tribes that had sprouted up, and I even executed a feral ghoul that made its way into camp while we were grilling up sausages. The New Caananites were kind of shocked by how quick and callous about it I was. I guess they expected me to be a soft vault-bred pup. 

Charlie was fairly pleased when I arrived outside the walls of Forks. He embraced me with a hug and walked me through the town. Unlike most settlements in the wastes, Forks is relatively well preserved. I guess, bombing the area around Forks wasn’t the first thought on anyone’s mind when things went to hell in October a few centuries ago. Charlie even enrolled me in the local Followers camp that sprouted up in the years that followed. He said that I could get some learning done and act as their guard in case anything went askew. 

“I’m not going to be one of your deputies,” I told him.

He waved me off. “Nobody’s expecting you to, Bells. I’m just saying, they need someone with experience, and things are stretched a might thin up here. But hey, check this out.” 

He walked me outside of the house he lived in and to the stables. There I saw yet another one of these odd domesticated deathclaws. A flat-footed thing with a beaky snout. It looked lazily at me like a brahmin looks at an oncoming train. 

“I was doing some trading with Billy Black,” explained Charlie. “He’s a guy down at the La Push settlement. I got a good deal for this beaut. They started breeding them a couple of years ago, and now there’s a bunch of these fellas.” 

“Does it got a name?” I asked. 

“I was thinking you could handle that,” said Charlie. 

“I think…Prospero,” I said. “He looks vaguely noble.” 

“Good name,” said Charlie. “Think of old Prospero here as a homecoming gift. He’s sturdy, so he’ll keep better than a Slepnir or a hayburner.” 

---

The radiation storm in the distance hissed, and energy crackled in the air. We went inside. It was a small, two-bedroom house that apparently belonged to the previous sheriff. I wanted something with more metal on the walls and a vast sea of tubes and pipes, but instead, I was treated to a pre-war house with faded red paint. My Pip-Boy’s geiger counter clicked and hissed, but we weren’t at dangerous radiation levels just yet. 

There was only one small bathroom at the top of the stairs, which I would have to share with Charlie. Not a big deal, because I shared a bathroom with Mom and Overseer Phil for a time. 

The Followers Camp had a few students. About fifty-eight students and a handful of armed guards are around the place. All the students were locals of Forks who came out of the woodwork to study with the followers for their reasons. I know for a fact that a few of them just want to manufacture chems and become kingpins of the wastes, but that’s their business and not mine.

They expected me to look a certain way, but I defied the expectation of being tanned from a life in the wastelands. I was ivory-skinned and slender, despite vigorous exercise. I wish that I were kind of jacked. Y’know? Not like a buffout addicted freak, I just want to be toned like actors in movies and dense like a piece of rebar. 

I rode Prospero to the camp, and I noticed I wasn’t alone when it came to the beasts. I left my mark on its eye. A red handprint of paint so I could identify it later. They had based their setup out of the old Forks High School. Repurposed the whole thing for their operations. Upstairs held chemical labs, sleeping quarters for homeless or sick people, and things of that nature. 

I approached the head honcho of the place, who was nestled into a tiny office on the first floor and wore a red mohawk that I envied. 

“I’m Isabella Swan,” I informed her. 

There was a sudden awareness in her eyes, and a smile crept across her face, “Of course, the sheriff’s daughter.  Nice. Well, things are kind of covered here. You’ve got your gun, we just need you to do a few rounds around the building, looking out for animals or looters. Then, after that, you have some classes. Nothing flashy, just a few rudimentary first aid courses and chemistry. Unless that isn’t your fancy, we also have a few history scholars with us from The Boneyard.” 

I did as was asked. I walked around the building with my hand on my hip, ready to draw my pistol if anything went wrong. I was approached by another Follower named Mister Mason. He told me that he grew up in a vault in California and was a literature teacher before joining the followers. We shot the shit about the usual set of authors: Poe, Bronte, Chaucer, Faulkner, Shakespeare, etc. I sat in on one of his adult literacy courses where he taught some of the disenfranchised folks of Forks how to read. 

I find wastelanders so unbelievably nauseating in their ignorance. A gangly boy with skin problems that might almost count as a mutation and hair that was slick and oily leaned over to talk to me. 

“You’re the sheriff’s daughter, right?” he asked. 

“Bella, yeah,” I said. 

“Nice, when’s your next class?” he asked. 

“At twelve, chemistry,” I said, skeptically. 

“Nice, nice, I’m Eric,” he said, “That’s in Building four, I can show you the way if you like.” 

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, fella,” I said, taking a step back and unholstering my pistol so he could see it. 

I’m not a bad person; I didn’t shoot him. I just want him to think I would. 

---

Everyone ate lunch in the communal cafeteria, which was the former high school’s cafeteria. There was a collection of people that arrested my attention at a round table near the back of the room. They didn’t look anything alike. They didn’t look like typical wastelanders, either. They were oddly perfect, almost like statues. The kind of people you’d see in pre-war magazines. But there was something vaguely wrong about them. They were flushed and colorless. My eyes were drawn to one of them in particular. A girl with chesnut colored hair and eyes that seemed ringed with red. 

I remember focusing on her and having my tongue run across my teeth as I sized her up from across the room. She wasn’t a typical example of a wastelander. She was devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. I wondered what was up with her eyes, but those thoughts were far away as my own moved along her toned frame as it was sewn into a follower’s labcoat and slacks. 

“Who are they?” I asked Eric. 

Eric, whom I previously scared, spotted them from across the room. 

“That’s Edythe Cullen,” he said. “Doctor Cullens’ daughter.”

“Doctor Cullens plural?” I asked. 

“Yeah,” said Eric. 

“Then that’s her sister, Alice, Jasper, Rosalie, and Emmett,” said Eric. “They’re from California, like the Followers, but only joined recently.” 

They didn’t look anything alike, these Cullens. Other than being hauntingly beautiful, they didn’t look anything like one another. But, I figure that’s because of wasteland orphan reasons. I encountered a lot of orphans displaced by war, famine, and radiation, and I did nothing to help them. However, these Cullens, maybe I could find kinship with them. Maybe that Edythe girl, especially. She looked up as my gaze lingered and shot me some sort of look,  and I immediately tore my eyes away. I bit my lip and giggled a bit. I felt so unreasonably giddy about having gotten her to look my way. 

I didn’t realize that I would be seated next to her in the chemistry labs. 

We were in the midst of some lecture when Edythe Cullen sat next to me, and I got a more proper look at her. She had a bit of a slight overbite, and her red-ringed eyes lacked proper irises. They were entirely black like pools of obsidian. She smelled clean, like strawberry-scented soap. 

The rest of the lecture was kind of a blur as I found myself being lost entirely in the beauty that was Edythe Cullen. That was until she looked towards me at the tail end of the lecture with furrowed brows and eyes full of hate. 

What the fuck had I done to arouse such a reaction? This piercing, hateful expression made me feel like a great weight had suddenly been thrown over my shoulders, and I had been cast into a black pit.