Chapter 2

Saviour Machine

"Don't let me stay

Don't let me stay

My logic says burn so send me away

Your minds are too green

I despise all I've seen

You can't stake your lives on a Saviour Machine"

Saviour Machine-David Bowie

Robert Joseph MacCready sat in his usual chair in the back room of The Third Rail. He stared into his empty glass, willing more whiskey to appear. He'd long ago spent the last of the caps that he'd allotted himself for drinks. He briefly contemplated breaking into his savings for another drink.

Just one more won't hurt. What's another few caps?

But he knew he wouldn't. Those caps had a dedicated purpose, which was ultimately more important than getting another fix.

Mac sighed loudly and wondered, not for the first time that night, what the hell he was still doing holed up in that bar. He hadn't had any business in weeks. Day after day, night after night, he'd sat in that bar just waiting for a customer. He knew he was getting nowhere. No new customers would be coming. Out of drinking caps and patience, he decided that he'd head out in the morning. Maybe he'd have better luck out on the road.

Grabbing his bag and rifle and slinging them onto his back, Mac headed out into the night.

Lydia dove behind an abandoned car and heard the spray of gunfire wash above her head.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Lydia cursed herself. She tossed the 10mm aside. It was damn near useless against the green monstrosities, even with the modifications she'd made to it. She quickly unslung the rifle from her back and turned to aim over the hood of the car. Her first shot went wild as her finger slipped from the trigger. Her fingers were slick with the blood that ran down her shoulder from the gun wound one of the Mutants had inflicted on her.

The Super Mutants continued their smack-talk, calling for her to come out of hiding. Lydia hastily wiped her bloody hand on her pants. Taking a deep breath and willing herself to concentrate, Lydia managed to put a bullet through the nearest one's forehead, sending him falling back onto the pavement. The coast was clear, at least momentarily, and Lydia took that chance to run. The entrance to Goodneighbor was just around the corner. She could make it.

Lydia cursed herself again for not being more careful. After successfully sneaking past the ghouls and a couple groups of raiders, she'd gotten overconfident and slipped up. Coming around a corner, she'd failed to notice the hanging blood bags until it was too late. She stepped directly into the line of sight of one of the large mutated dogs, who proceeded to howl and alert the entire gang to her presence.

The door to Goodneighbor came into view and Lydia could have wept with relief. Almost there.

"Stupid human!" came a roar from behind her. Lydia forced herself to sprint faster, ignoring the sweat and blood running down her face and the sting of the open wound on her shoulder.

At the same moment Lydia reached the entrance to Goodneighbor, she heard the crack of a shotgun and felt the multiple stings of buckshot enter her backside. She tumbled through the door and fell hard on the bricks. She'd been shot, again, and the bastard was almost on her.

MacCready laid in the bed of his rented room at The Rexford, staring up at the ceiling. He tried counting the cracks in the plaster, hoping to shut his brain off enough to get some rest.

Some nights were worse than others, but Mac generally had a hard time getting to, and staying, asleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Duncan's or Lucy's face in his mind, and the waves of guilt came crashing down. The wife he let die, and the son he couldn't protect from illness.

After laying there long enough to count the cracks (thirty-seven) twice, Mac sighed in frustration and rolled off the dirty mattress.

He paced the small room for a while, guilt and self-hatred swirling through his head. Finally he could stand the four walls of the dilapidated room no longer. Mac grabbed his belongings from the chair in the corner and fled the hotel.

Mac decided that he might as well get an early start on his journey if his brain wouldn't allow him rest. He was almost at the entrance to the city when he heard the unmistakable howl of a mutant hound, followed by a barrage of gunshots.

Mac removed his rifle from his back and flicked the safety off, aiming in the direction of the door to the city. A few drifters that had been mulling nearby readied their weapons as well. The city wall was well-fortified, but it was always better to be prepared.

Mac crouched down behind one of the half walls near the door, getting into a position that would allow him a direct line of sight to anything that may enter.

He heard a mutant yell, and then the door to the city burst open. A shotgun went off at the same moment and the woman who was charging through the door went down hard onto the bricks.

A mutant with a shotgun appeared in the doorway behind the fallen woman, directly in Mac's cross hairs. Mac pulled the trigger of his trusty rifle and dropped the super mutant with a clean shot to the head.

The gunfire ceased. Daisy, the ghoul who ran the general store across the way, ran over to the door and poked the barrel of her handgun through the opening, scanning the area to make sure the threat was neutralized. After a few moments she stepped back and slammed the door shut.

The drifters who had gathered for the fight began to disperse. Mac stood and slung his rifle across his back. The woman who had tumbled through the door after being shot was lying on the ground where she'd fallen. She was unmoving, but as Mac drew closer he could see that she was breathing.

Daisy holstered her pistol and crouched near the woman, looking her over.

"She's alive," Daisy stated in her raspy voice, "but she definitely needs some medical attention."

Mac leaned over the woman. "No sh-kidding," he agreed. Her right shoulder was a gaping mass of blood and tissue. There was a smattering of small holes punched into her ass and left thigh that were beginning to leak blood.

"She's lost a lot of blood," Daisy said. The ghoul looked up at Mac. "Come on, RJ, let's get her to Doctor Amari."

Mac opened his mouth to protest, this lady was not his problem and he had his own issues to deal with. But one stern look from Daisy and he thought he'd do well to keep his mouth shut and do what the old lady said.

Mac and Daisy gently rolled the woman over onto her undamaged shoulder. The woman was pale and her breathing labored. Mac was momentarily taken aback when he saw her face. Even through the sheen of sweat and grime that covered her face, he could tell that she was gorgeous.

Mac slid an arm under her back and another under her knees and lifted her off the ground. He followed Daisy down the street to the Memory Den where Doctor Amari would be.

Daisy threw open the doors of the establishment and called out for the doctor. The place was nearly empty of patrons, which was no surprise. It was going on 5 am and most of the town's drifters would be passed out in the streets or alleys.

"Amari!" Daisy yelled again. "Come on," she motioned MacCready to follow her down a flight of stairs to the basement where Amari's lab was located.

They descended the stairs to the lab. Daisy pulled a gurney away from the wall into the middle of the room. Mac gently laid the woman down on the old hospital bed.

Doctor Amari stormed into the room, alarm on her face. Her eyes went right to the unconscious woman on the gurney. "Oh my," she said. The doctor went right to the sink on the wall and began washing her hands. "What happened?"

"Mutants chased her into the city," MacCready spoke up. "She's been shot, more than once."

Amari examined the woman for a brief moment before she busied herself running around the room, grabbing up various supplies and chems. Mac watched as Amari picked up a pair of surgical scissors and began cutting the woman's shirt away from the wound on her shoulder.

"I'll need help," the doctor said to no one in particular.

Mac turned to tell Daisy that she could be the one to help, it had been her idea to save the lady in the first place, but Daisy was already gone.

Amari snapped her fingers, bringing Mac's attention back to the pressing situation. "Let's go! Over there," she pointed to the side of the gurney opposite from her.

Mac sighed and did as he was told. He spent the next few hours assisting Amari as she doctored up the woman. It took a while to Stim her shoulder back together. Mac watched in fascination as the medicine knit the muscles and skin together before his eyes. He seen it done numerous times, Lucy had been a medic after all, but it always amazed him to see the meds do their work.

At one point when the doctor jabbed a Stimpack into a particularly deep part of the shoulder wound, the lady woke up screaming and swinging. Amari quickly injected her with a sedative to put her back out, but not before she'd managed to clock Mac square in the jaw.

After the shoulder wound was properly cleaned and Stimmed, Amari had Mac roll the woman over on to her good shoulder. "Hold her there, on her side," she ordered.

The doctor cut the leather pants from the woman and went to work removing the buckshot from her ass. Mac tried to avert his attention, but he couldn't help notice how curvy and soft the woman's body was. He mentally chided himself, this was not the time, but he couldn't help himself completely. The lady's clothes had all been removed in order for the doctor to tend to her wounds, and Mac realized (not for the first time) that he hadn't seen a naked woman in quite a while. Although when he'd imagined himself holding a naked woman, this hadn't been the scenario he'd hoped for.

"All done," Amari finally announced. She helped Mac roll the lady gently onto her back, and covered her with a clean sheet.

Mac went over to the couch on the wall of the lab and flopped down. A few hours earlier, he hadn't been able to sleep at all. Now he could hardly keep his eyes open. He settled back into the cushions and pulled his cap down over his eyes.

"...another few hours before she wakes up," Mac heard Amari say before he gave in and let his exhaustion take him.