Chapter Three: Fading Past

The Capital Wasteland, Megaton, 21st of September, 2277

"You're listening to Galaxy News Radio, bringing you the truth. No matter how bad it hurts," sang the radio from the corner of the store. "It's been two months since our fellas in Power Amour wiped President Eden's little minions from the Capital Wasteland, and saved our butts for the millionth time. So far, our one, our only Lone Wanderer has not only destroyed the Enclave's little headquarters in the mountains, but has also helped the Brotherhood in wiping out anymore stragglers that could be wandering around out there. If you're listening to this, 101, good job and give 'em hell. Lord knows they deserve it."

I bit the inside of my cheek, almost so much that I tasted blood and turned the radio off.

That was all that mad man on the radio talked about. Fighting the 'Good Fight' or so he called such nonsense. His was the only radio station that anyone could listen to. The Enclave's signal had died long ago and there seemed to be no hope for its return.

It seems that I'll have to get used to living in Megaton after all.

Pressure was applied to my shoulder and I jumped back from the touch. Green eyes widened slightly in surprise and the woman crossed her arms over her navy utility jumpsuit.

"Is everything alright, Bethany?" Moira asked. "You look kind of down."

I sighed and looked back at the radio. "I'm fine. I guess I was just out of it for a second there."

"I have moments like that too. It's usually when I get an idea for my experiments."

"Experiments?" I repeated in surprise. "Is that what the smell was before?"

Moira apprehensively rubbed the back of her neck with her free hand. "Well, I guess. I mean it was going to be a success. Maybe I heated it up for too long..." she muttered in short, quiet tones and trailed off.

I held my hand out to get her attention. "What were you trying to make?"

Moira paused and grinned such a grin that it rivaled the look of a Yao Guai that caught sight of a potential meal.

"Have you ever wanted to repel a mole rat, but have no idea how? Well, after a few attempts I think I've managed to finally perfect a repellant stick that overwhelms their senses with a 'bad-feel' sensation. Last time, with the use of my assistant, the stick kind of killed a few of them, but now I'm positive that it'll work!" Moira explained in an almost impossibly fast pace.

I tilted my head to the side as I tried to understand. "I see..."

"Do you want a look?" she asked.

"No," I almost shouted. "No. It's best to keep these things a secret, you know? At least until you know your experiments work."

Moira let out a disappointed sigh and returned to her work. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

I felt a pang of guilt at the sight of her slowly sweeping the floor with a brush. I turned my attention back to the counter, but soon gave in.

"Thank you, by the way," I whispered. "For allowing me to work here."

Moira looked up and smiled."Oh it's no problem," she replied, like the past few seconds of conversation were completely forgotten. "I could do with the company. Working here gets lonely sometimes, even with my bodyguard."

The mercenary rolled his eyes. "I'm here to work, not talk."

"That doesn't mean that you have to be so grumpy all the time," Moira retorted.

As the two of them argued, I looked over my shoulder at the clock on the wall. I had to wonder how she found one that actually worked and told the correct time.

Five o'clock.

After one last look at the radio, I moved away from the counter and left Craterside Supply. It was nearing the end of Alistair's shift at the saloon and I knew that I had to tell him the news from the radio. Whether he would believe me or not was something I wasn't sure of.

As I walked through the narrow passages of the town, I couldn't help but stare at the priests knelt beside the atom bomb in the centre of Megaton. Their hands were stretched out above their heads and they prayed to it like it was a God. I had seen a few strange things, but that had to be the strangest. Even Moira wasn't as strange as that, and within the first few seconds of meeting her I knew she wasn't normal. She was friendly though. Friendlier than most that I had came across.

The radio, sadly still on in the saloon, sang an old pre-war tune that was ignored by almost all of the patrons. The only person who did seem to listen to it was the bartender, Gob.

With no trace of Alistair in sight, I decided to talk to him.

At first, Gob hadn't noticed I was there. His attention was fixed on the glass in his hand and he rubbed the rag inside vigorously, even though there was hardly any dirt there.

I cleared my throat and met his gaze.

"Hey Gob," I smiled.

The ghoul's features lit up and he placed the glass on the table. "Oh, Bethany. It's you. I didn't think I'd see you around here, what with working at Moira's and all."

I shrugged. "It was the end of my shift and she was too busy arguing with her bodyguard to notice."

"So it's going well then?"

"Yes, I think so. It's one of the better jobs that I've had in a long time." I sat on the nearest stool and glanced at the door. "Have you seen Alistair around here?"

"The taller smoothskin? Yeah. Last time I saw, he was taking care of one of the drunks," Gob said.

"Did you see where?"

"No, sorry kid."

"Great," I muttered and leaned forward. "I'll just wait here until he comes back."

I caught a glimpse of Gob's small smile out of the corner of my eye and wondered if he ever had much company. I knew he talked to the town's 'local entertainment', Nova, but that was all.

His voice brought me out of my train of thought. "Did something happen to your arm?"

I followed his line of sight to the bandage that covered the majority of my lower shoulder.

My mouth soon felt dry. "I injured it sometime ago. That's all."

Gob whistled, but it was a low sound that only I could hear. "It must have been one hell of an injury, kid."

Images of purple veins and pale skin flashed through my mind, as did the souring pain I had to endure for many weeks. My fingers lightly traced the line of the scar. The mark where the needle pierced my skin must have still been there.

"Shit happens," I answered and rolled my sleeve further down.

Gob nodded in agreement. "You could say that again."

He was closer than before and my focus caught the dark red colour on the neckline of his otherwise pale shirt. He moved back, which showed more of the wound on his lower neck.

"How did you get that?"

The ghoul tensed. "What?"

"The gash under your shirt. I told you my story. What's the story about yours? Fell down the stairs or something?" I joked.

Gob's bewildered expression vanished. He returned to wiping down the counter and kept his head down.

"Um, Gob?"

"Yeah, I must have slipped or somethin'" the ghoul replied, but it was a quick reply and barely had any meaning behind the words.

I leant over my barstool's front legs to get closer to him. "Did something happen?"

The rag swiftly stopped on the edge of the tabletop. "Look kid, it's not something I want to talk about."

"Which means that something happened," I added. "You can talk to me."

He was conflicted; caught between his feelings and his instinct. That I could tell.

A creak echoed through the room and heavy boots stopped beside the doorway.

My eyes widened at Alistair, who wiped the sweat from his brow and rolled his shoulders back. His leather armour had several holes in it but thankfully neither of them looked serious.

"Beth? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Alistair asked with a frown.

"I finished early." I left the barstool and tapped his shoulder. "There's something I need to tell you."

His frown deepened for a moment before he realised what I meant. "Oh. Let's talk outside."

I nodded and walked out.

Once I was sure we were alone I turned to him. "More Enclave forces are being hunted down, Alistair. There are barely any of us left. We're becoming extinct."

My brother didn't listen. He simply shook his head. "You're overreacting."

"I heard it on the radio myself. That Three Dog character said so. Someone is hunting us down, one by one. Whoever this assassin is has helped the Brotherhood of Steel more times than I can count. Listen to the radio yourself. You'll come to the same conclusion," I argued.

"Even if that's true, this person has no idea who we are. You're worrying about nothing-"

"I'm not worrying," I almost yelled. "I'm telling you that there's no way we can contact the Enclave now. Admit it, Alistair. They've turned their backs on us. They've forgotten us."

We were pawns in a game of chess between two rival groups. Both wanted nothing more than to wipe the other from existence. My brother and I were expendable. If the Enclave really cared about us, if we were really that important, they would have already found us.

Alistair took a step forward. "Beth, you know we can't give up. We can't stay here. You know this."

"Then how do you plan on finding them?"

"I don't know, I don't know!" He threw both hands up in the air. "I don't know but I'll figure something out."

"Alright, alright. I just came to tell you what I found out."

"Well next time tell me when you find something important that may actually help us," he snapped and headed back towards the saloon.

"Alistair-" I said. "This is just hard to come to terms with. I don't mean to be like this. I... I don't know what's happening to me."

My brother stopped and gently touched my wrist, just below my bandages. "You've not been the same since this happened. It might be worth checking it over with a doctor."

"It's not that."

"Yes, it is, but I'm not going to argue about it. Just, promise to get it checked soon, okay?"

I bit my tongue and swatted his hand away. "Only if it gets worse."

Alistair shook his head. "Curse your damn stubbornness."

"Curse your damn stupidity," I barked back.

His brows furrowed and a small smirk appeared. "Hah, that was almost funny. Keep practising your jokes. One day you might make a fine comedian."

I rolled my eyes and pushed him back towards the saloon. "Get in there before that sly bastard finds you."

"Fine, but we're not done discussing this."

As the door closed behind him, I couldn't help but lightly touch my shoulder. My fingers twitched and I bit my tongue. It was getting worse.