The end of the world sucked. You may be thinking, "Well, obviously it sucked, Annie, it's the end of the world." But let me just say, things were approximately seventy percent less awful before I went stumbling across the Commonwealth. Armed with a pistol and my lab coat, I had been forced to escape the Institute with a few of my fellow scientists before it was blown to shit. There were twelve of us when we started, and now it was down to three. We were smart, sure, but trying to figure things out in the world was a lot different when you were actually in it, versus the safety of a lab.
"Annie…" Parkers voice trailed off softly. I rolled my eyes as I turned to him, irritated to find his pupils were once again blown wide. Selling chems to the random settler we came across had paid off well enough for us to get some real gear. My lab coat had been replaced with leather armor fairly quickly the first time I got shot. If I'd realized how painful that was – not even mentioning the pain of using the stimpaks themselves – I would have worked on making an edible healer. The issue with selling chems, however, was that Parker couldn't seem to stop using up most of our supply. Sure, life was hard right now; probably the hardest any of us had ever experienced, but we didn't have time to be foolish like this.
"What, Parker– Fuck!" My exasperated response was cut off when my companions head promptly exploded and I ducked behind cover, not even looking to see where Maddison had taken off to. None of us had really been friends, but after a month of dodging certain death together, we'd formed a comradery I assumed most people in the Wastelands had. We were close to Goodneighbor now; sure, it wasn't an ideal place for a former Institute scientist to hide, but considering the other options were trying to make a run for Diamond City – which was a few miles further than I was sure I could make – or tying to hide in unfamiliar territory, I'd risk it.
"Maddison!" I yelled out for her over the rain of gunfire, eyes scanning the area. It took me all of two seconds and a frightened peek around the car I was hiding behind to realize she had shared the same fate as Parker. Her glossy, dead eyes stared at me in an almost accusing way. This had been my terrible idea. Everyone knew Goodneighbor was full of junkies and we could have made a killing if we had just made it. I could hear the catcalls and laughter that raiders usually did when they killed people. I could never understand taking so much pleasure in killing another person, but their voices sounded distant, which meant that they were probably using a machine gun blindly. Or sniping. But considering the fact bullets were coming down like rain, I was leaning towards the latter.
The moment the street grew quiet I bolted, assuming they had taken time to reload. I was pleased to find I was correct when I heard shouts and various curses before a few shots were fired off. One of them grazed my thigh but I pushed through the initial shock of the pain. I was close enough to Goodneighbor that I could see the glow of the neon sign bouncing off the wall of a nearby building. To say I was startled when a rope wrapped promptly around my neck like a noose would be an understatement. The raider bastard that caught me cackled when I screeched, hoping and praying someone was close enough to hear my strangled cries for help as I was literally pulled across the asphalt. When I was in stomping distance, the rather large man brought his foot down on my stomach, knocking the wind out of me and probably cracking some ribs.
"Stupid bitch." He grumbled as my vision began to tunnel from the lack of oxygen. His grin glared down at me for a moment before I heard a gunshot and suddenly the rope wasn't so tight around my throat. I gasped for air, scrambling to reorient myself as my savior took to shooting people somewhere behind us. I vaguely recognized the cropped black hair and those silver eyes as the man who had thrown me into this predicament smiled pleasantly at me.
"Are you alright?" I wanted to punch him square in his stupid kind face. The Sole Survivor of Vault 111 – the man who killed Father and was kind enough to let a few of us escape before nuking the Institute. Thrusting us into this shitty world and expecting us to survive when we'd never known hunger or violence or illness. Six of us had died from radiation poisoning shortly after our escape!
"No." I breathed, my heart still thundering as adrenaline pumped through my veins. "No, uh, I almost died." I blurted out, and he looked like he was stifling a laugh.
"First near death experience?" His eyebrow rose at my nod, and I realized I'd probably made a critical mistake. He looked me over quickly, searching for something, before I saw a look of understanding cross his face. The kindness he'd shown me previously melted into an impassive mask.
"You're one of the Institute scientists, huh? What are you doing outside of Goodneighbor of all places?" Crossing his arms, he leaned against the brick building behind him, watching me with no expression. It was no surprise he had picked up on it. My companions and I were often mistaken for Vault dwellers for our naivety and lack of survival skills; not even mentioning the vast difference in our appearances versus the others in the Wasteland. I righted my emotional state and tried not to spew anymore about myself than was necessary, brushing a stray strand of red hair behind my ear.
"Trying to survive like everybody else." I muttered, feeling every bit like a child being reprimanded by her dad. There was a pang in my chest at that, and suddenly I really missed my parents. I was only twenty three when everything got blown to shit; my family had been alive and well before Father made the mistake of letting this asshole in on the Institutes secrets.
"And you're alone?" The follow-up question seemed more a surprised statement than a real question, but I found myself answering anyway.
"I wasn't until about five minutes ago." Something akin to pity crossed his features for a moment and I narrowed my eyes slightly. I didn't need anyone's pity, least of all his. An apology for ruining my life? Sure, but not pity. I was doing just fine, all things considered.
"Well, I wouldn't let anyone else know if I were you. Names Nate, by the way. I'll escort you to wherever you're going if you want. Goodneighbor can be a rough town." I wanted to tell him to go to Hell, but the slow-forming bruise on my neck and the throb from where I'd been grazed by a bullet reminded me it probably was safer. I hadn't even thought to pull my pistol on the guy who was strangling me; the weapon was still firmly in its holster on my hip.
"I'm Annabelle. Annie, for short." I took his extended hand and shook it. It was simpler just to pretend I didn't know who he was. Nate walked to the door and pushed it open for me, gesturing me to enter first and I resisted the urge to sneer at him.
"You have the worst timing." I jerked to attention at the low rasp of the man I recognized as Hancock. It took several minutes to process that he was speaking to Nate and not me when the two men clasped hands in greeting, grinning at one another. Goodneighbor wasn't as scary as I had thought it would be, I decided as I looked around. Which could have just been because I was standing next to the two scariest people in it and they seemed friendly enough. I'd heard horror stories about the ghoul who ran this town, but he seemed like he was just like every other person trying to get on out in this Hell.
Up until he turned and promptly stabbed a man in the neck, that is. Nate seemed completely unfazed other than a roll of his eyes, but I went stiff as a board. The older man seemed to notice because he smirked at my surprised expression. I felt like there was definitely some context I must be missing when he sighed wistfully and turned his black eyes on me.
"Welcome to Goodneighbor. Names Hancock." He seemed to be moments from cackling; I could only assume it was due to my expression, so I tried to coach it back to impassive.
"Thanks. I, uh, I'm Annie." I shifted uncomfortably at his smirk, and was grateful when his attention went back to Nate. Hancock had helped in destroying the Institute, but for some reason the anger I felt for Nate didn't extend to his companion. Maybe because Hancock hadn't tricked everyone near and dear to me into thinking they understood the Institutes ideals, then stabbed them all in the back.
"New friend of yours?" The dark-haired man glanced at me from the corner of his eye, shrugging almost sheepishly when I turned my attention elsewhere pointedly. I just wanted to drop off the chems and get out of this town. Guilt prickled in my chest when I realized I'd just left Maddison and Parkers bodies out in the street to rot, but I consoled myself with the fact that it was probably just a bit of survivors guilt. They were dead, after all, what did they care?
"Actually just saved her outside the city from some raiders," Irritation crawled over my skin at the idea he had saved me. Him, of all people. "She's the prickly sort." I gaped at his audacity, and Hancock snorted in laughter.
"If you'll excuse me," I muttered, slipping passed the duo as I caught sight of the man I was meant to be meeting. He waved me over subtly, so I offered my best smile to Hancock, ignoring Nate altogether. "It was nice meeting you." With that I sauntered off, doing my best to seem unbothered by the damage to my body despite my pain. Be cool, be cool. I chanted to myself as I turned a corner, finally relaxing slightly before approaching the man who was ducked into a nearby alley. Flipping the top off my messenger bag, I showed him the goods, watching his eyes sparkle in delight.
"300 caps for the whole bag. I almost got gutted trying to get this here." I said immediately, watching him itch at his arms irritably.
"Parker said 200." I sneered at his soft rebuttal, rolling my eyes. Of course the idiot said two hundred. He was a tool and had no concept of how much it took to actually make a profit off this stuff.
"Well, Parker is dead, and I would be just as happy to walk out of this city and not come back. Take it or leave it." The junkies expression turned grim as he continued scratching at his bare skin. It started to bleed after a moment, but he didn't seem to notice. Finally, he agreed and handed over the caps, and I dumped the pile of drugs into his own bag. I ignored the angry expression on his face and turned to leave, almost jumping out of my skin when I saw Nate waiting just outside the entrance of the alley.
"Dealer, huh?" I rolled my eyes at his curious expression. It wasn't that he sounded particularly condescending or judgmental, but I refused to be anything close to friendly with him.
"Wholesaler." I corrected a little more sharply than I'd intended. "Dopey here is going to make a killing once he gets his fix." The man looked up from his bag, apparently realizing I was talking about him before taking in Nate and scampering off with a quick nod.
"Got anything good left over?" I raised my eyebrows in mild surprise, before unzipping my personal pocket. I didn't use chems, but with Parker trying to use up all the supplies, I did tend to hide some of the good stuff from him.
"How about some Berry Mentats and Psycho Jet?" Holding the items out for him, I almost smirked when he went digging around for some caps. Most people did jump on the opportunity to get some Psycho Jet, seeing as only a select few knew how to make it to begin with.
"It's on me – for helping me out there." I stopped him as he went to hand me the money, shaking my head in refusal. "Have fun." Stepping passed him, I ignored his spluttering refusals and headed for the gate. I needed to get out of here before it got too dark or I'd be in a predicament. Of course, turning the corner I almost lurched out of my skin when I ran head-first into Hancock. Luckily he was aware enough to catch me as I stumbled backwards in alarm, keeping me from busting my ass.
"I'm so sorry." I blurted out in little more than a squeak, telling myself it was deeply inappropriate that I even recognized he smelled nice in the five seconds my face had connected with his shoulder. Who notices that, Annabelle? His laughter was almost infectious as he allowed me escape his grasp; I met his twinkling eyes briefly before bolting around him. Definitely not borderline skipping as I tried to speed out of his city.