- II -

Trenton Makes, the World Takes

Charon's grip on the handle above the door tightened as soon as Jalen changed gears—grinding the clutch in the process—and sped the sports car down the freeway. His body slammed back against the leather seat at the rough acceleration, and he checked his seatbelt for the fifth time to confirm that it was fastened and secure. Vaguely, he wondered if he had walked into a trap after all, and the powers-that-be had fated him to die at the hands of the worst driver in the history of any reality.

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," Jalen whined when he glimpsed the other man's stone-like posture. "No need to clamp onto the 'oh shit' handle like that. In the 2100s, these things drive themselves. I'm still getting the hang of it."

Charon's only reply was an irate grunt. Although he wore a poker face like a champ, his stomach twisted at the very real likelihood that their precarious, high-speed weaving around the other vehicles would result in a fatal (and possibly deserved) collision. He'd never been inside a working automobile before this, and thanks to Jalen's horrendous demonstration, he had zero desire to ever enter one again. He'd sooner go through the ghoulification process all over again than subject himself to a repeat experience of this nightmare. The freeway lights roved over the crystal clear windows in quick succession, and Charon prepared himself for death with every vehicle they flew past in the surrounding lanes.

"Damn, you're scared shitless, aren't you?" Jalen dared to ask.

"No. Fear is something I don't feel," Charon rumbled, eyes still glued to the road. "This is just me hoping to survive long enough to step out of this car and vomit. Won't miss these things when I return to the Wasteland."

"Well, I hate to tell you this, but they're pretty necessary here, and they only get worse in quality with every previous decade."

"Oh, joy."

Jalen grinned at him. "Sarcastic type, huh? We're gonna get along great."

"Says you."

"All right, how about I take your mind off my driving? Wait, hang on." Jalen paused to veer a hard left, a maneuver that both spared them from crashing into a semi and had Charon gnashing his teeth together.

"I feel like nothing good can come out of answering that question."

An irritating peal of deep laughter emanated from the driver's seat. "Just humor me here. You mentioned looking for your employer. What do you do for a living?"

Charon's brows drew together as he drafted a way to describe his profession without actually disclosing it. "Bodyguard."

"Cool, no wonder you're a badass. What's your employer like? She pretty?"

"Nineteen-year-old girl from a Vault. That's all you need to know," Charon declared, the inflection of his voice sharpening.

"Okay, okay, I was just asking. Moving on. Your accent sounds like it blends in with everyone else's in this city," Jalen noted, slowing down to a more merciful speed. "You from this part of New Jersey? Our version of it, I mean?"

Charon lowered his gaze to the glowing display of the dashboard. "Yes."

"Really? From Trenton?"

"Great Lanta. Post-War Atlantic City."

Jalen scratched his head. "Where's that?"

Charon exhaled. "Seventy-four miles away."

"So you're from the New Jersey Wasteland. I'm guessing you know it pretty well."

"Like the back of my hand."

"Wow. Must be weird seeing it like this, huh? All these things that never existed," Jalen remarked as he belatedly remembered to turn on the headlights. "Hey, think we could head to Atlantic City and find the location of your house? See how different it is—"

"I don't live in Great Lanta anymore."

"Oh, gotcha. When was the last time you were there?"

"A hundred years ago," Charon replied shortly, hoping Jalen took the hint and ceased with the inquiries.

He didn't. Grin fading, Jalen peered at him from the corner of his eye. "That reminds me. Back there, outside the alley. You called me 'smoothskin.'" He eased up on the gas pedal even more as the atmosphere shifted, grew heavy, and descended over the interior of the car. "Are you really a ghoul?"

Charon kept his sight trained ahead. The mirror on the sun visor reflected his grim expression, reminding him of what had been lost and subsequently returned. But even though he walked in the skin of a human once again, this body no longer belonged to him in his time. He sought no comfort in this borrowed form, not foolish enough to allow the illusion to blind him. As much as he wished this was his to keep, the lessons of his past had taught him life knew no clemency. He reached up and flipped the visor closed, figuring the action was answer enough.

"Hey, I know how it is. I'm not a ghoul, but I can relate to what you must be feeling," Jalen told him, pulling up the dashboard settings to activate the radio. "This place tempts you, gives you something you otherwise can't have. I just wish I knew the reason behind it all."

"And what did this place give you?" Charon stopped and frowned at his own question, surprised he'd been interested enough to ask it.

Jalen spared him a brief, indecipherable look before facing back to the front. "Completion."

An ambiguous answer if Charon ever heard one. They rode in silence for a long while, both staring out the windshield as they retreated to their own thoughts. The pulsing tunes of an instrumental song filled the space, erratic in its rhythm, lilting in its composition. Charon watched the steady traffic as he contemplated Jalen's words. He concurred with the need to know their purpose here, but he still held reservations about the other man's role in all this. Their meeting seemed too convenient, too contrived, especially with Jalen's promise to further fill him in on the business of taking out the targets.

He scrutinized him now, noting Jalen's cool demeanor and fluent command of the surrounding tech. Granted, he'd been here much longer than Charon had, but whether he was friend or foe remained to be seen. In circumstances like this, the careless endowment of trust often proved disastrous.

"You seem laidback in spite of everything," Charon commented over the thrumming music.

Jalen chuckled. "Like I mentioned before, I've been at this for quite a while. Might as well keep calm and try to work through it. And hey, some of the sights aren't bad, either."

Charon released the handle to examine his palms in his lap. "What if there isn't a way out of this?"

"Well… we can't really afford to think like that, can we?"

True.

He accepted that for the time being as Jalen swerved across two lanes to reach an exit that looped down into eastern Trenton. This section of the city offered a quieter environment, a glaring contrast to the lively downtown area. They passed several neighborhoods as the dashboard map indicated their approaching destination, and Charon fixed his line of sight on the towering condominiums in the distance. Belladonna's Place, the flashing sign read. The building reached at least fifty stories in height, its white exterior illuminated by the roving searchlights at its base. Decorative trees lined the road winding toward it, striking Charon again with the luxury of it all.

Jalen stopped at the closed gate and rolled down his window to swipe his Pip-Boy across a scanning contraption. It granted them access, and the sports car jolted through under Jalen's clumsy operation. Charon continued staring at the condominiums while they came to a crooked stop in a parking spot, and his brows knitted as he took in its extravagance.

"How have you been able to afford living here?" he demanded as Jalen switched off the ignition. "I woke up in a hotel room with nothing but this Pip-Boy and these clothes."

"Let's wait till we get up to my condo to talk about this. Anyone could be listening in," Jalen replied, leaning over to show him how to slide the door open. "But the first thing you need to know is that this society follows rules of civilization that our world hasn't bothered with since before the Great War."

That explained the clear absence of carried weapons. Charon stepped out of the car unsteadily, glad to be back on unmoving ground. He waited as Jalen grabbed some things from the trunk, his eyes lingering on the body of the vehicle. Aesthetically, the shape and shiny red paint made for an impressive sight, and under the right driving skills, it could possibly have been a marvel. As little as he knew about his employer, he remembered her knack for mechanical work, and he was certain she would have killed to switch places with him at this moment.

Jalen finished locking up the vehicle and cocked his head toward the building. Charon followed him across the parking lot, studying the bulky duffel bag in his hand. His caution kicked up into high gear as he anticipated his entry into the other man's territory. Any number of possibilities could occur, and he readied himself for the worst, willing to fight an ambush or surprise attack if need be.

Their boots thudded on shiny linoleum when they entered through the front doors. A sweet scent similar to the one in the lobby of the Marriott saturated the air, clinging to their clothing as they made their way to the glass elevators on the left. Only a few people passed them by, and Charon did a double take when he realized one individual with glossy gray skin and motorized joints was, in fact, some sort of android.

"Synthetic intelligence at its early stages," Jalen muttered to him as the elevator doors slid open. "Looks crude and inferior now, but in its prime in the 2130s, blows our version right out of the water."

Charon stared after it while joining Jalen in the elevator. He shook his head to himself, still not quite convinced any of this was real. However, he couldn't deny the startling sensation of the elevator as it shot upwards, leaving his stomach down below in the unexpected burst of speed. He clamped onto the metal rails and scowled over at Jalen, who was rifling through his pockets without much difficulty. The stop came as suddenly as the initial surge, and Charon's knees nearly buckled out from under him at the abrupt halt in motion.

Jalen led the way out of the elevator and down the corridor to the right. Charon adjusted his jacket and trailed after him, now more pissed off than wary. Digital wall sconces lit the black and white interior in hues of blue and green, interrupted by the occasional violet floor vase situated along the doors of the condos on either side. A fixed black carpet lined the floor down this hall, and Charon blinked when he saw how the dirt from his soles seemed to seep into the dark material.

They reached a door on the left side of the corridor, and Jalen waved the physical screen of his Pip-Boy over the access node. A soft chime rang out as the door slid open vertically, and the ceiling lights flickered on as he entered. Charon swept his gaze around before stepping inside, preparing to either defend himself or make a hasty escape.

"Sheesh, I can practically feel your tension knocking me on the back of the head. Relax," Jalen drawled as he strode through the living room and dropped his duffel bag next to the glass coffee table. Pinning Charon with a hard look, he added, "Even if you don't trust me, at least know I'm not stupid enough to take on someone like you."

Charon remained in the foyer regardless, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes wandered around the lavish space. "We're here. Start talking. How did you get the funds for all this?"

Jalen sighed and removed his jacket, the maroon shirt underneath still ripped at the front. "I racked up cash during my time here through methods I'm not exactly proud of—stealing, selling myself to wealthy people, what have you."

"You… sold yourself? As someone under a contract?" Charon inquired. Bound under one himself, he wondered how Jalen had been released long enough to pursue the targets.

"As a male escort," Jalen replied bluntly. "In the twenty-second century, after a lot of socioeconomic strife, the elite class and AIs dominate the country. I made a few friends up the social ladder starting out, and the arrangement just happened."

…Oh.

"So yeah. If I had to do it over, I wouldn't go that route, but it did get me a lot of useful stuff. For instance, this blade rig," Jalen went on, sliding out the glowing red blade, "and partial cybernetic implants." He tore the rest of his shirt open and discarded it, turning to show Charon the synthetic black construction attached to his spine through the skin. "The cybernetics are how I jumped from the top of that building in the alley and landed without a scratch."

Charon hid a grimace at the large, spider-like structure digging into the other man's back. "That is… abnormal."

Jalen shrugged and headed into another room, emerging a few seconds later with a new shirt. "The catch is that they degrade to their previous versions with every time skip. When I got this blade, it was actually embedded inside a synthetic epidermal section of my arm, and I could draw it at will. The cybernetics were full implants, completely in sync with my central nervous system. Almost made me invincible. I used to have a cerebral chip that heightened my senses, sped up my cognitive ability, and gave me night vision, but this year, in 2077, it hasn't even been developed yet."

Charon took an involuntary step forward at this information, finding it difficult to wrap his head around the idea of such advanced tech. "You just subjected yourself to these enhancements?"

"Hey, if they helped me track down and take out the targets, I was willing to do anything."

"And how did you know what to do with each target?" Charon demanded. "My first instinct was to interrogate, not kill."

Jalen shot him a sharp glance as he bent down to unload the duffel bag. "That was my initial instinct, too, okay? I woke up in some fancy bed and breakfast in 2153 and thought I'd lost my mind. When I found my first target, I barely got one question out before he whipped out a plasma pistol and tried to sear my head off."

Charon watched as he produced what looked like parts of a metal exoskeleton from the bag.

"I'd stolen this thing before that encounter and wasn't any match for the target physically, but in my line of work back in the Wasteland, I learned to be fast on my feet," Jalen declared. "With this attached to my arms and legs, I managed to run in close enough to strike and fracture his skull." He tossed the pieces to Charon, who caught them in one smooth movement. "Turns out that's military grade battle dress gear, phased into the Army in 2050, so it hasn't disappeared yet."

The material was lighter than Charon had thought, and the parts, made to clamp over his forearms and calves, still seemed sturdy.

"You can have it. Not that you need it. This is why I said I'm not stupid enough to take you on," Jalen told him, gesturing to Charon's entire frame. "I have cybernetics in, but you still stomped me out there without the help of any kind of physical enhancement. If anything, you're the dangerous one, not me."

Some things, regardless of the setting, simply didn't change. Danger described Charon everywhere he went, no matter what he did. It had been drilled into his character from a young age, made to give him value to whoever held his contract. Coupled with competence and skill, it turned him into a prized asset at the cost of his freedom. Even so, he wore the label with indifference.

"What happened after you eliminated that first target?" he questioned, setting the gear aside. "You said that a hint to getting out of here is given after each target is dealt with. Where do these hints come from?"

Jalen took a seat in the plush vermillion sofa, brushing his fingers through his sleek brown hair. "Even if I told you, you probably wouldn't believe me. Not until you see for yourself."

Charon glowered at him. "Have you seen where we are? At this point, I would probably believe you if you told me humans were living in space." At Jalen's hesitant expression, he muttered, "…Really?"

"Plans for the construction of a space station over Earth will begin in 2148," the other man stated wearily. "But if you're gonna talk about belief, do you believe yet that I'm a victim in all this just like you are?"

A long silence followed. Charon pressed his lips together and peered somewhere at the other end of the vast area. He still stood at the edge of the room, struggling to take everything in while staying on high alert.

Jalen laughed at his stubborn wariness. "Okay, I can understand. I guess I'd be suspicious, too, but I'm offering to let you stay here while we track down Mabel." He rose and padded over to some sort of liquor tap near the bar area. "As for the hints themselves, I've figured out that it's almost like a chess game."

Charon listened with interest at that, declining the glass of scotch Jalen held out to him.

"It's a constant back and forth. Targets move, we move, and when we get them, we progress on the board," Jalen remarked, downing the scotch in one gulp.

"And how did you determine all this?"

Jalen opened his mouth to answer, but froze when his eyes locked onto something across the room. "Holy shit… speaking of where the hints come from…"

Charon followed his gaze to the glass balcony doors, meeting a sight that startled even him. On the dark balcony outside, an eerie figure stood silhouetted against the moonlight. Straight long hair fluttered along with the hem of a lengthy trench coat, and a gloved hand rose to press against the glass. The figure remained shrouded in black, but the face that leaned forward and came into view sent an uneasy feeling creeping through his abdomen. The eyes were hidden behind a glowing visor, and the lips were so red that he couldn't tell whether the color stemmed from lipstick or blood.

A sneer revealed ghostly white teeth, and in the blink of an eye, the figure vanished.

Jalen took a few steps toward the doors before faltering, a visible shiver crawling up his spine. "That's a first. She doesn't usually show up like this out of the blue. And she gets freaking creepier each time I see her."

Charon forced the anxiety from his psyche. "Who the hell was that?"

"The one who gives out the hints after each target."

He was about to request an elaboration, but the one he received only left him more bewildered.

"So, Charon, do you believe in the devil?" Jalen asked with apprehension, still facing the balcony. "Because in this reality, the devil toys with the pawns while wearing a scarlet smile."

x-x-x-x-x

A/N: With Fallout 4 on the horizon, I'll be tweaking a few details on Charon and Jalen's backstories. Although this is AU, those of you who have read my other work know how much I love linking canon elements in my fics. Next chapter coming soon!