"Rip the mini-gun right off the vertibird," he said.
"They won't know what hit 'em," he said.
Ya didn't count on a damn wingless-dragon-sewer-monster-from-hell, did ya?!
"Shit, shit, shit, shit! Crap, no, fuck!" is the soundtrack of me running the hell away from that... thing. I turn as I try to continue running backward, and hail a few hundred bullets on it, but it's gaining too fast for me to shoot off more than thirty or so. Time to kite it around some more, and hope that Preston guy is a good enough shot to hit a moving target.
I start a wide loop around the edges of Concord's main road, staying as close to Preston's laser musket as possible. Maybe I can... Oh. Oh yes. I wind up the mini-gun and pepper the truck I'm about to pass with holes, hoping against hope I hit something that'll make it go boom.
Bingo. I get as far outta the way as I can, and turn to watch as the massive fireball engulfs the dragon-thing.
"Woooo! Yeah!" I pump my fist in the air, grinning underneath the helmet of this clunky armor... until I realize that damn thing's still alive…
Shit.
Welp, time to keep running!
I make a wide turn at the end of the town... rectangle, and head back for the Museum, hoping to line up a couple of good shots for Preston's musket.
He doesn't disappoint. Not sure how much damage it actually does, but hey, at least he's trying to help. That counts for a lot, in my books. I keep books, apparently. Good to know.
As I make the turn for another go, I unload into the creature as much as I can, before I'm forced to flat-out run. God, I'm getting worn out here. Maybe I can...
I toss a look to the buildings on the side of the road I'm thundering down, hoping against hope I can find... there! I dive in through what must be a shop's door, and barrel up the stairs as fast as I can, panting all the way. It's only a few steps and a hop to the window, and I'm looking over the street with a decent shot at the monster chasing me. I open fire on it, doing my best to keep the bucking bronco called a mini-gun aiming at the monster instead of dead air, or worse, Preston.
I manage to unload a few dozen shots into the thing before it makes a big enough hole in the side of the building to bust in. I hop out of the window, because no way in hell am I staying in the same building as that thing, even with a floor between us. I get a bit of distance, half-stumbling to the end of the road again before it busts its way out of the store, roars, then charges toward me again.
Oh, lookie, another car. Let's try this again, shall we? I stand, waiting for the fucker to close in on me, timing it as well as I can. If this doesn't work, I'm out of ideas.
Red laser beams streak across the length of the road, some managing to hit the beast, some not. Time seems to slow as I look down at the car beside me, taking aim and pulling the trigger. The wind-up feels like it takes an eternity. Finally, the first bullet leaves a barrel and pierces the car's hood with precision and grace.
Suddenly, time no longer waits, and the lead is pummeling the car's fusion engine, a fire already threatening to blow it sky-high. I glance up, and the creature's almost on me. I give up firing at the car and make a mad dive for space between the car and me.
The explosion tosses me back a bit, but I'm pretty sure I avoid most of the damage. That monster was right on top of it when it blew, though. I scramble to my feet as quickly as I can, though I can tell this ordeal's taken most of the fight out of me, and I'm winded as all hell. The dragon-thing is stumbling, its hide a charred mess, and I can see what is apparently the softer tissue of its stomach—also good to know—has been severely burned and a bit melted. It seems to steel itself and takes a step toward me, at which, I take aim for its stomach, and hold the trigger down.
It doesn't take long before it finally goes down, with barely a whimper.
I set the mini-gun down, and lean over, hands on my knees in the power armor, to catch my breath. Not the most comfortable thing in the world, but at this point, I could almost take a nap right here.
A few dozen deep breaths later, I sling the mini-gun back into my hands, and straighten, then trudge back toward the Museum of Freedom to talk with Preston. He and his group are the first actual people I've seen in this barren world that didn't try to blow my head off, so I'm not going to just walk off without them.
I did find that Codsworth robot earlier, in that place called Sanctuary Hills, but... well. I'm still not sure what to think of that encounter. I don't feel like a mother. I don't even have any stretch marks! I checked! But that robot... well, he was an eye-stalk witness. There's not much I can do to refute his claims, considering the evidence I found in the vault, and on my finger.
I'll... deal with this later. Right now, I've got a group of what amounts to refugees to speak to, and hopefully help figure out what happened to me... and the rest of the world.
"Your energy's tied to this place, kid."
Sure. Great.
This is... well.
I have no idea what to think. Honestly, as helpful as these folks have been with filling me in on anything and everything I've asked about, I'm still no closer to true understanding than I was when I started.
At least I know what happened to the world, now.
Mama Murphy wants me to get her some kind of chem to supposedly fuel her 'sight', but I'm not entirely sure I want to, even if I could get ahold of this... 'jet'. Not sure how good I feel about providing drugs for little old lady addicts, even if there's a supposed reward for it.
Preston certainly seemed against the idea, and he knows her better than I do.
Marcy apparently thinks the 'sight' is a bunch of malarkey— though, she seems to think pretty much everything is, so I'm not sure how much credence to lend her opinion on that. I think she's just overwhelmed by her grief.
Jun certainly seems to be, though he's taken the sullen route with his mourning.
Sturges is very focused on getting us all set up with the basic necessities, and I don't blame him. I'd really like to be able to wash this jumpsuit at some point if I'm going to have to wear it for a while.
I'm sure Codsworth would be willing to do it for me, but I'd rather it not be radioactive when I get it back. He tries, poor thing, but there's only so much you can do without all the pre-war conveniences.
I need to watch Preston. He's taken his losses hard, and he's the type that... well, without support, let's just say I'm worried for him.
Anyway, from what I understand, I'm going to need to be picking up any salvage I can carry while I'm out looking for... well... my baby.
Shaun.
It's not what I expected when I woke up, but... I'm convinced it's the truth, despite my lack of stretch marks. I might not have all those maternal instincts I probably would if I could actually remember him, but that doesn't mean I want him to be alone out there, in a world as harsh as this one.
The gang apparently approves of that sentiment at least, even if they sometimes toss me worried looks when I talk about not being able to remember... well, anything.
Mama Murphy thinks I should head to Diamond City, wherever that is. I'm thinking that's more of a long-term goal. Eager as I am to get out there and see who else survived, I want to make a place to bring that baby... Shaun, back home to.
That'll take time, but for now, I'm going to do whatever I can to help these people get this place to a livable state. I'm no builder of civilizations or anything, but with their help, hopefully, I can make this life a little easier for us all.
