Crossfire

by ChronicTrashcan

Ranee's Dad always told her nuclear war isn't a matter of if anymore, it's a matter of when. She didn't take him too seriously at the time. Little did she know he was right. At the ripe age of twenty one, Ranee Mary Willford is thrust into a familiar land ravaged by war. Her baby brother is somewhere in the large expanse of the wasteland, and she'll do anything to bring him home.

2. The Dog, the Minuteman, the Deathclaw

Crossfire

Chapter 2

As I drifted in a state of slight consciousness, I felt warm and cozy. As though I was a babe swaddled in a blanket. I coiled in on myself, wanting to preserve this welcoming feeling. As I laid there, basking in the serenity, birds chirped outside. The gentle scent of morning dew drifted through the windows.

'Was that all just a horrible dream?'

I laid there and sighed in relief. My mom was still alive, and Shaun was surely napping peacefully in his crib. I grinned before fully succumbing to consciousness.

What I awoke to was my room, but not as I remembered it. The once soft cream colored wallpaper was now peeling off in long strips and stained by mud, mold, and what looked to be blood. My white desk in the corner of my room was turned over and chipping. One of the legs was gone. My chair was nowhere to be found along with my terminal. My dresser was missing all of it's drawers, and was on the verge of collapsing. Old posters and photographs were now tarnished beyond recognition. The ceiling was missing tiles, and I was surprised the roof didn't cave in on itself. The state of disrepair I found myself surrounded with forced me to face the harsh reality I was in.

'It was all real, the bombs, my mom, Shaun...'

Shock wore off and soon my vision began to blur. I didn't fight the tears, and as the first began to fall I heaved out a sob, and another. I cradled my legs to my chest and sat there for god-knows how long.

'What about the rest of my family, Richard, Anne, uncle Nick, Codsworth? Surly dead.'

My jagged weeping echoed off the broken walls of my mom and dad's former dream home. In my grief, I didn't hear the familiar sound of a jet making it's way up the stairs.

"Oh Ms. Ranee, are you alright?" I glanced up to see Codsworth.

'He can't actually be there. It's your mind playing tricks on you. Grief can do crazy shit to someone.' I only sobbed harder at the thought.

"Shhhh, everything is going to be alright, why don't you tell me what happened?" Codsworth whispered as he rested a claw on my shoulder. It had weight to it, it felt real.

'Is it really him?' I gripped onto his limb as though it was a lifeline. With that I pulled him towards me and clung to his steel body and tried to contain my relief as I weeped against his cold dome. Codsworth attempted to settle his limbs around my back as to comfort me. Soon enough the tears let up, my throat unclenched, and I could finally speak without whispering.

"Codsworth, what happened up here?" I rasped out

"Well, after you, young Shaun, and Mum left when the bombs fell, everything changed for the worst. Speaking of which, where is Mum by the by?" With that I choked up again. Through gritted teeth, I managed a pitiful response.

"She...she's in a...better place."

"Oh Ms. Ranee these things you're saying, these terrible things. I believe you need a distraction. Yes, something to calm this dire mood. It's been ages since we've had proper family activity, like checkers, or charades, Shaun so does love that game. Eh, is the lad with you?"

"He...was kidnapped, but I'm gonna find him. I'm gonna get my baby brother back."

"It's worse than I thought I'm afraid, mhm, you're suffering from 200 years of hunger-induced paranoia. Not eating for so long will do that to you I'm afraid."

"200 years...that can't be..." I breathed.

"Roughly 210 I'm afraid. That makes you two centuries late for dinner!" He chided, seemingly obvious to the destruction around us.

"Codsworth, you're acting a bit...strange. What's wrong?"

"I...I, oh Ranee, it's just been horrible. 200 years with no one to talk to, no one to serve. I spent the first ten YEARS trying to keep the floors waxed, but nothing keeps out nuclear fallout from vinyl wood, NOTHING! And don't get me started on the futility of dusting a collapsed house. And the CAR, THE CAR, HOW DO YOU POLISH RUST?" The Mr. Handy ranted. Clearly frustrated with the lack of human contact he's had in the past two centuries, and grieving the loss of his former life.

"You gotta focus Codsworth. Do you know anything? Did you see the kidnappers?"

"I'm afraid I don't know anything, Ranee. The bombs came, all of you left in such a hurry that I thought for sure you were...were dead," he sniffed before plucking a holotape out of is chrome dome. "I did find this holotape, I believe Mum was going to present it to you as a present, then...then everything...happened." I gingerly took the tape before stuffing it in my vault suit.

"Thanks Codsworth."

"You're welcome. Now, enough feeling sorry for myself. Why don't we search the neighborhood, young Shaun may turn up yet." I knew this was fruitless, but I let Codsworth believe what he wanted. Maybe it would turn up some clues though.

"Sounds like a good idea. Let me grab some things first." I stated as I hauled myself to my feet and started for the stairs.

"Alright, I will be waiting by the door when you're ready." Codsworth called after me. I took a right and entered the master bedroom. It was in worse shape than even my room. The bed frame was all the remained along with my mom's withering dresser. The roof had actually collapsed in the far corner of the room. The wallpaper was all but gone.

I fell to my knees next to bed and pushed the rotting planks away before coming upon the floor safe. We kept all our valuables in there and some of my dad's old stuff. Entering the code, I quickly unlocked it and raised the hatch. There lie various expensive dresses preserved in plastic and my mother's jewelry box. Old family albums and important documents. Holotapes my dad and I had recorded all our favorite songs on. Along with some of my dad's old gear from the Army and his favorite guns. Just what I was looking for.

I reached in a pulled out his canvas bag, some MREs, a camel-pack, and carefully picked up the guns, making sure to point them at the floor. My dad had three favorites. His Remington revolver, his

.22LR hunting rifle, and his Winchester shotgun. I grabbed whatever ammo was in there and packed it in the bag. I settled all the guns in safely before I reached into the safe to pull out my dad and I's old holotapes. Might as well have something to get my mind off things. Once everything was packed, I strapped the canvas bag to my back, shut the safe, and headed back towards the front door.

"I'm ready. Let's go, Coddy." As we approached the first house, nothing looked off, other than the over-turned furniture and the rotting frame.

"Allow me, Ms. Ranee." Codsworth stated as he entered the house before me. The first thing I noticed upon entering the house was the smell. The searing stench of sewage was so bad it could burn your nose hairs off. I even felt myself tearing up a bit. I heard loud buzzing in the other room. I peeked into the hallway only too spot a fly the size of squirrel zipping out a room and into my line of sight. I flicked the safety off my 10mm before taking the shot. It's insides coated the walls with a sickly looking green. Another came out of, what I presumed to be, the bedroom and before Codsworth could cut it down, the little shit launched a large hunk of slop at me. I stepped to the side as Codsworth made short work of them.

"Dog-sized Cockroaches. Flies the size of squirrels. What's next, lizards as big as trucks?" I grunted in irritation. They weren't hard to kill per-say, but they were a fucking pain to deal with.

"Yes, Bloatflies are wretched creatures, aren't they? Those cockroaches are referred to as radroaches these days."

"Jesus Christ." I sighed.

'Just how much has changed since I was frozen?'

Before taking our leave, I scavenged whatever I could like stimpacks, bobby-pins, and whatever food and drinks I could find. Soon enough, I came upon a stash of...bottle caps?

"Codsworth, what's...all this about?" I asked, vigorously shaking the plastic tub in my hand.

"Oh, yes, forgive for not informing you earlier. Bottle caps are now the currency of the wasteland, quite...creative these bunch are." That was all I needed to know before I stashed them in my bag. Scouting the rest of the houses went uneventfully. Mowing down Bloatflies before snagging whatever I could. Unsurprisingly, we turned up empty handed, no Shaun, and no closer than before to finding him.

Codsworth stilled as I plopped down on the pavement of the roundabout, clearly not anticipating his plan failing. His three eyes pinpointed in noticeable distress.

"They...they aren't here. Shaun really is gone. Oh Ms. Ranee, I'm so sorry." He whimpered. I forced a smile before peering up at him in defeat.

"It's okay, Codsworth. Ya did your best, thanks for trying."

"Now, now, you can't give up yet. What about Concord? I've been down that way before and they only pummeled me with sticks and stones once or twice." I narrowed my eyes, patting one of his mechanical arms.

"They didn't hurt ya too bad, did they?"

"Oh no, a few scuffs and dings, but it's no match for a General Atomics robot like myself!" He cheered heartily, clearly putting up a front.

"Why don't ya come with me, Coddy?"

"I can't, I'm sorry. I must hold down the homefront I'm afraid." He visibly sagged and almost sulked, as though he had actually disappointed me somehow.

"It's fine, really. I'll be back in a couple of hours." I pulled him into a hug one last time before setting out for Concord, thankfully only a fifteen minute walk from Sanctuary Hills. As I trekked towards the collapsing bridge leading to the Red Rocket, I realized something.

'I never asked Codsworth what happened last night and what the fuck those things were.'

I pulled up my Pip-boy and checked the radio stations.

'Diamond City Radio, huh?'

Flicking it on, a shy and rather insecure male voice spoke through the speakers.

"And this is Diamond City Radio-I'm sure you already...knew that though. I'm not saying you're, you know, stupid or anything." He turned away from the mike to chastise himself "Now...up next is Let's Go Sunning. En..." The poor guy cut himself off with an abrupt switch to the song, clearly wanting to be anywhere else but there. I related to him a little too hard.

Happy, giddy music sounded from my Pip-boy. An oxymoron to the crumbling landscape around. Like the fucking corpse of some poor soul in front of me. Next to him was a hairless, boney looking dog with a lead pipe shoved into it's chest cavity. I grimaced as I knelt by the man's side, the body was still stiff, clearly this was pretty fresh. I waded through his pockets, searching for anything of use. At his side was a what looked to be a homemade rifle of sorts. Not trusting the quality, I left that where it was. I pulled out stimpacks, ammo and even some food and a can of purified water.

'You know, he's got a pretty nice coat.'

Gradually, I shrugged the long leather duster off of him. It swallowed me to say the least, but at least I'll be warm. I quickly packed my findings into my bag and said a small prayer for the man. I may not have known him, but he deserved that much, I'm sure.

Walking down the road and past the Minutemen statue, I happened upon the Red Rocket.

'Supplies, I still need more supplies.'

Before I could set foot on the grounds, a German Shepherd burst out of the gas station and peered at me.

'Well, at least it's not attacking me on sight.'

With slow, deliberate steps, I approached the filthy pooch, and held out my hand. With a sniff, it decided I was good people and licked me. It was a male from the looks of it.

"There's a good boy," I cooed lightly. "What's your name, huh?" My hand went for the tag dangling from his collar. I struggled to read the letters hastily scratched into it. "Dogmeat? Let's your hope past owner didn't name you that for more literal reasons, yeah? Ya know what, why don't I up think up new name for ya?" I suggested as I patted his head and waltzed over to the Red Rocket.

I emerged from the building about a pound heavier with useful shit. Dogmeat's ears flattened before crouching and growling at the dirt. Wondering what was wrong, the question didn't even befall my lips before giant ass mole rats sprung from the ground.

"OH FUCK ME!" I raged as I flipped my safety off.

'More freakishly large animals, just what I needed, thanks God.'

With Dogmeat by my side, we made short of them. I panted violently as I trudged back to the road. Seething to myself, and praying to god I wouldn't come a crossed yet another horrifically mutated beast. This is me though, and before long, Dogmeat and I stumbled a crossed a gaggle of mosquitos, easily the size of the German Shepherd next to me, slurping up some poor two-headed cow's innards. I wasted me to time fishing out my dad's shotgun. Hell fuckin' no I wasn't about to deal with this bullshit.

Another group of dead abominations later, we reached Concord. It became apparent a fire fight was taking place, so I ghosted into one of hollowed out buildings and set up shop on the second floor. Men and women dressed in barley there armor that looked to be scrapped together were taking shots at a black man on the balcony looking like he just stepped out of one of those cheesy revolutionary war flicks.

'So I'm traveling backwards in time now, eh?'

I plucked the hunting rifle from my back. Someone had to be the innocent party here, so I went with my gut. Lining up my shot, I froze.

'Killing annoying ass pests is one thing, but these are people.'

I closed my eyes and steeled myself as best as I could.

'A person may cause evil to others not only by his actions but by his inaction.'

Breathe in, breathe out. With that, I peered down the sights once more, awaited the right moment, and pulled the trigger.

My body jolted as though it had been shocked as I watched the brains of some guy taking pops shots from behind a car splatter on the pavement behind him. I kept on though, if I dwelled over this that man up there could die and there would be no one to blame but myself. As I continued raining down well placed bullets on the them, I felt as though I wasn't there. My person going into auto pilot as my mind drifted off to some place different. Some place better. My fluffy quilted blanket, the bitter smell of coffee in the morning, Shaun's sweet laughter, my mother's warm hugs, Richard's playful punches, Anne's constant nurturing, my dad's calming southern drawl. Anywhere was batter than here, but the best place of all was a distant, unreachable memory.

My mind gently floated down from it's dream land, sensation was the first thing to come back me. The splinters of the aged wood jabbing my stomach. My aching elbows, my knuckle-whitening grip on the hunting rifle causing pins and needles. The stench of gun powder, cooper, piss, and shit clung to the air. I saw the corpses of once living human beings, laying inanimate on the ground, some in their own excrement. Heavy silence swept over the the once violence-filled street.

"HELLO, WHO'S OUT THERE?" The man on the balcony called out, shattering the still air. I shakily got my feet before peaking out the window.

"HEY, UP HERE ON THE BALCONY. I GOT A GROUP OF SETTLERS INSIDE. THERE'S STILL MORE RAIDERS IN HERE, AND THEY'RE ALOMST THROUGH THE DOOR. YOU GOTTA HELP US, PLEASE!" He pleaded. He didn't even need to convince me, I was already going to storm in there anyway at the first mention of these so-called raiders.

I nodded to him, not trusting my voice right now, before picking my rifle up off the grimy ground. I gingerly paced down the stairs, and booked it out of the building and towards the doors of the museum, Dogmeat hot on my trail.

I crouched down again, and slipped past the doors as best I could. Once inside, I could see raiders littering the upper levels of the bombed-out building. Profanity and gun fire tore through the air. With all this commotion happening, I easily slipped into one of the exhibits seeing as the gate leading to the main stair case was locked. As I breezed past, pre-recorded shouts and taunts sounded from the weathering colonial mannequins. Before long, I arrived on the other side of metal gate. A raider stood in the basement, typing away at a terminal. I slipped my 10mm from the pocket of my bag and put a round in his head. Without thinking too much, I ghosted up the stairs and happened upon two more raiders in the room next to mine arguing.

"Didn't you hear, there's someone out there shootin's up the place. I don't about you, but I ain't stickin' around to get shot." I began sneaking down the short hallway connecting the rooms. My 10mm ready.

"Fine, run away like a fucking coward. I'm staying thou-" He didn't even finish his sentence as his gray-matter painted the face of the raider in front of him. The other's eye bugged out of his head as he spotted me. Before he smirked.

"Oooh, you're just a little girl, heh? Let's have some fun then." He purred as readied his baseball bat. Of course he would underestimate me. A five-foot-five, 125 pound woman isn't something many would find threatening. Unfortunately for the raider, he had as little brain cells as he did teeth. Does the old saying "Don't bring a knife to a gun fight." ring any bells? It seemed as though that was lost to the ages as well. Just as he went to rush me, I put single bullet in between his eyes.

Unceremoniously, I scavenged their shit before hauling ass as quietly as possible towards a second flight of stairs. On the upper level, I could hear graphic threats from two colorful raiders.

"Let's us in, motherfuckers. We're only going to kill every last one of you!"

'Well aren't ya just a bucket of sunshine.'

As the second of the two drifted down the hall, I took my chance to draw a combat knife I looted from one of the raiders, and waited. As the unwashed man passed me, I covered his mouth before plunging the knife into his windpipe. He died almost instantly.

Just as I dragged the remains behind me, idiot number one seemed to finally notice his partner was gone. The filthy raider trudged down the hall, oblivious to his incoming death. The railing on sides walkways were gone. A lightbulb sprung above my head. Just he came to my position, I leaped out and clutched the sides of the doorway before kicking him off the second story, and into the basement. A horrified scream and a gruesome crack sounded through the open area, I didn't even need to look to know he was dead. Picking myself up, I stumbled up the walkway just as the door opened to reveal the man from earlier.

"Inside, quickly!" He cried which prompted Dogmeat and I haul ass into the room.

"Man, I don't know who you are, but your timing is impeccable. Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen." Preston greeted me with a smile and a sigh of relief.

"It's nice to meet ya, Hun. My name's Ranee, and don't mention it. I was glad I could help." Looking over, I noticed we weren't alone. "Who are these people?"

"Just folks looking for a new home. A fresh start. I've been with them since Quincey. Lexington looked good for a while but the ghouls drove us out of there." Preston paused a moment, glancing at the settlers with despair. "A month ago there were twenty of us, yesterday there were eight, and now there's just five. It's just me, the Longs -Marcy and Jun- over on the couch is ol' mama Murphy. And this here's Sturges." Sturges Great me with drawn out and gruff 'Hey'.

"I'm sorry, but what are ghouls?" I questioned with a cock of my head.

"Man, you really aren't from around here, are you? Ghouls are...irradiated people. Most are just like you and me, they look pretty messed up, and they live pretty long lives, but they're still just people. The one's I'm taking talking absorbed too much radiation, rotted their brains, made them feral. They'll tear you apart just as soon as' look at you. Anyway, we figured Concord would be a good place to settle. Those raiders proved us wrong, but...well we do have one idea."

"Well, let's hear it." I promoted. Anything would be infinitely better than the shit show we're stuck in right now.

"There's a crashed vertibird on the roof, old school. Pre-war. You might have seen it." Sturges casually leaned on the desk before continuing. "Well, one of it's passengers left behind a seriously sweet goodie. We're talking a full suit of cherry T-45 power armor. Military issued."

"I like it." I grinned. I've always wanted to operate a suit of power armor. The engineering that went into crafting those walking tanks was absolutely phenomenal. Maybe I could take it apart when I get back to Sanctuary.

"Heh heh heh, I though you might. Protection with an added bonus. You get the suit, you could rip that mini-gun right off the vertibird, and give those raider a one-way express ticket to hell. "

"A mini-gun, fuck it's gotta be Christmas." I gushed. A suit of military grade power armor and a damn mini-gun. It looks like today is finally turning around.

"I know, right? There's one hitch though, the suit's out of juice, probably has been for a hundred years. We can get it running again, but we're a bit stuck." Sturges trailed off.

"I'll help if I can."

"Well, you'll need a pre-war F.C. a standardized fusion core. Your high grade, long-term nuclear battery. Used by the military and some companies way back when. We know right where to find one." Preston instructed. I would tell him I knew this shit already, but i decided against it.

"But it's locked up tight behind a security gate in the basement. You could give it a shot." Sturges suggested.

"One power core coming right up." I stated before waltzing out of the room, over the walkway, and down the flight of stairs. I avoided looking at the broken body of the raider I pushed off the ledge earlier. I would like to not empty my damn stomach right now.

'Fuck, I haven't eaten today, have I?'

My stomach rumbled as I neared the door, demanding it be filled.

I crouched down, pulled a bobby-pin out of my hair and a tiny screwdriver from the pocket of my coat, and got to work. Irritation spiked as the first bobby-pin broke. Tossing it to the side, I yanked another out of my hair. Rinse and repeat several more times, and the lock finally clicked and the door creaked open. I sauntered in and claimed my prize. Pluking the fusion core from it's socket, the lights flickering over head briefly, with that I rushed back up stairs.

"Got it, now let's get this armor up and running, shall we?" Dogmeat boofed behind me, it then dawned on me that he couldn't come.

"Hey buddy, you're gonna need to stay up here, alright? You can't come where I'm going." The poor boy whined but complied anyway.

"Keep him safe for me, yeah?"

"Don't worry, you're pooch will be in good hands." Sturges reassured with a wink before I was on my way. As I marched past, the elderly lady on the couch, Mama Murphy I believe, piped up.

"What yourself kid, I feel something coming. Something big, and it's angry." Not really knowing what to say, I nodded her way. I chalked the odd behavior up to stress. Another stair case later, I was on the roof. Raiders could be heard gathering on the main street of Concord, waiting to storm the museum.

'I'm gonna show them what a bad idea that it is.'

I inserted the power core into the suit before turning the crank to open it. Gears creaked from old age as the back completely opened it's self up, kind of like a blooming flower, if the flower was made of a ton of steel and could kill someone with a single squat thrust.

Taking a deep breathe to steady myself, I hopped into the armor. The HUD came to life as the back sealed itself shut once again. Walking in this damn thing was fucking weird to say the least. My legs felt, so heavy, and yet so light as the same time. It threw me off as I stumbled towards the mini-gun.

"Hey Boss, we got someone up on the roof!" An underling called as I ripped the mini-gun from it's mount with surprising ease. Pacing toward the ledge, the leader taunted me.

"Come one down here and show us that pretty power armor!" Oh, I did just that. Just like in those superhero movies, I slammed into the ground on one knee, and one fist in the concert. Okay, so I'm a bit of a nerd, what of it?

"It's gonna take a lot more than a mini-gun and a suit of armor to take down me and my boys!" The grimy man shouted, waving his gun in the air.

'Really? He's so fucking cocky to believe that he and his little gang can take on a walking fucking tank that's armed with a mini-gun. His funeral I suppose.'

Steeling myself once more, I let the mini-gun roar to life. I had the urge to close my eyes. Blowing someone's brains out isn't fun, but it's no where near as messy and brutal as literally cutting someone in half with bullets alone. Blood and gore quickly stained the streets. Their bullets barley dented my armor. I stopped firing to let the gun cool for a second.

I spotted their leader ducking behind a car.

'Raiders really aren't that smart, are they?'

I aimed for the vehicle and soon enough an explosion rocked the earth beneath me. I stilled for a second as panic gripped my heart, almost losing myself in a very recent memory before remembering where I was. Funny, I used to love loud noises like thunder and explosions. I gritted my teeth, and continue my rein of hell upon these assholes. No, I don't like killing, but at least I can make myself feel better knowing they deserved it.

A jolt threw me off balance, and judging by the raiders clambering to their feet, it seems I wasn't the only who felt that. Another jolt came, forcing me to widen my stance to balance myself. A resounding roar ripped through the air, and for a second all of us forgot we had been trying to murder each other just moments ago. A steel hatch to a maintenance tunnel was, I shit you not, ripped open like a fucking can opener to a can.

In that moment when the abomination responsible for the temporary cease-fire reared it's ugly head, I knew God had a horrible sense of humor.

It was a fucking lizard the size of a truck with claws as long as my arm. Thanks God.