Chapter 7:
A screw fell to the floor and rolled under the table. Andy hissed a curse under her breath. Funny, that. Since the general collapse of society, people had less and less of a reason to censor themselves every day. Andy found herself cursing much more often and noticing others swearing more. Or maybe there was more to swear about now. She couldn't decide.
Getting down on her knees, she fished underneath the worktable for the errant screw. It rolled away from her fingers several times before she finally caught it and pulled it out. Straightening her back and putting her weight onto, she jumped when she saw someone out of the corner of her eye.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you like that." John had propped himself against the garage wall. She suspected that he had been eyeing her backside while she was on all fours. He chuckled at her, breaking into a smile.
Andy gave him an exasperated look. "Whatever, you know I startle easily," she replied, "And you guys aren't helping." She smiled despite herself.
"It's not my fault that it's that easy," he said, pushing himself off from the wall and inspecting her game trap. "You've got a couple of these set up now," he observed. "Catch anything?"
Andy got to work on putting the screw where it belonged. "Just a few squirrels, that was the bits of fresh meat in the stew the other day, and a cat today."
"No shit?"
"Mmmhmm."
"Where is it? Are we going to eat it?"
"John!" Andy was scandalized. "No! It's a cat!"
John burst into laughter. "You should have seen your face!" Andy was not amused. "Besides, cats aren't good for anything. Might as well eat the little bastards."
She frowned at him. "You're terrible. And no, I'm not eating a cat." She waved the screwdriver at his face. "They're good for plenty of things, eating pests, providing comfort," his eyes followed the screwdriver. "Lot's of things. So, no eating." she concluded.
"Right, right," John said backing away. "Cat lady lives matter, got it." He was still grinning. "How many are you going to adopt? 15? 20?" Andy's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you going to fling them at people whenever they try to attack you?" John started making meowing noises and pantomiming throwing things at Andy.
Andy grinned despite herself. "Get out, you test." John retreated backwards out of the garage, yowling like a cat the whole way.
She turned her attention back to the trap, brushing some stray hair out of her face.
A patrol returned to Sanctuary Hills late that afternoon. They brought with them food and some other supplies with them. On their way back, they had been coming up through Drumlin and stopped by the ruined diner that was still standing. A family had set up a trading station there a few generations back and had been running it ever since. In exchange for clearing out a nearby suspected nest ERPs – ghouls, people called them – and had been rewarded with a good amount of supplies in lieu of caps.
The discovery that bottlecaps – of all things – had replaced money as the currency of the desolate future had struck several people as rather funny. Jonathan and Andy had discussed it over roasted rabbit a few days before. Jonathan was of the opinion that it was the only thing that you could count out multiple singles of, was plentiful, and didn't run the risk of tearing or getting damp and destroyed like paper money. Andy thought he had a point, she just thought it was ridiculous.
After ridding the area of the 'ghouls', the squad had stayed to get some intel on the area. They had found that the main reason that most of the settlers in the surrounding area were so apprehensive of speaking to them was that they had been mistaken for 'Gunners'. Gunners, apparently, were a large group of mercenaries that had set up a few years before. Outfitted with pre-war military equipment and some semblance of training, they had run roughshod over everyone around. Those wealthy enough to employ Gunners enjoyed relative safety, while those who didn't have the money to do the same hoped that they could avoid attracting attention.
The Callahans, who had already started up an intel database on their surroundings, started asking questions to add to their files. Where were they based, did the traders know anything about how one hired them, did they have recruitment, etc.
While they took down their information, Uncle Jeff made an observation to Captain Jeffords. "If we look that much like Gunners, it might be to our advantage to come up with some type of livery or uniform that is different. Vault Dwellers are generally looked at as an easy target and looking like Gunners might attract enemies."
Jeffords nodded before he spat on the ground. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapped one free and lit it up. Once he'd taken a drag and exhaled he said, "I can't see us using the USG colors. For one, the gunners use it, and for two, I don't want us looking anything like that Enclave group." He exhaled, the smoke spiraling lazily back into the sky. He dipped his head, "Let's go talk about this, maybe draft up a few ideas."
Andy, off to the side, watched as her uncle and the captain went into The Garage. She waited around a few minutes more, listening to the conversations around her. The sun was starting to dip closer to the horizon and the burn pits that had been carefully dug out and lined with stones were being loaded up with wood and kindling in preparation to start some fires. Electricity had become a precious commodity and to avoid brownouts in the neighborhood people had started making their evening social lives outdoors around the firepits. Mrs. Heady had brought out a tray full of drinks and a few plates of meat skewers to be grilled. Someone's Mr. Handy, the Brunswick's, she guessed based on the fact that Mrs. Brunswick was giving it directions, was skillfully laying them out on a grate to grill and flipping them when necessary.
She found herself wishing she had put on a hat earlier in the morning now that the temperature was dropping significantly. Someone moving toward Andy made her turn her head in the new direction. Jonathan. "What's up?" She asked.
"Chicken butt," Jonathan replied in their customary greeting. He sighed heavily and leaned against the same wall Andy had found to support herself with. "Everything's different," he said at last, looking at the sky.
Andy followed his line of sight and found the first twinkling light in the sky. "Yeah," she replied simply. Her sleep wasn't the best. Several times she had woken herself up in a panic having nightmares about her friends, what had happened to them. She knew exactly how lucky it was that she had survived but sometimes – sometimes it didn't feel like a blessing.
She didn't know how long they had been there together enjoying twilight's progress without speaking a word before Jonathan's voice cracked the air.
"I miss them," Jonathan said. "A lot. Sometimes it feels like my chest is gonna burst it's so bad. Jackey, Bill, Lloyd, Dickey –" His voice cracked, and it sounded like he had tears in his eyes. Andy didn't look to check, she didn't want him to feel judged by it. "Is it gonna get better?" he asked. "Dad's trying so hard – he's been trying so hard since Mom left – but I don't feel like he has much time for me left. You two talk all the time but he doesn't the same with me. It's like I'm still a little kid to him and I don't know what I can do to make him know that I'm not anymore. That I'm grown up now. I don't know how to make him finally proud, y'know?"
Still not looking at him, Andy grabbed his hand and squeezed tight. She sighed and rolled her head back, looking at the sky. "Jeff's – Jeff isn't an easy man to please. He's proud. Hell, everyone in our family is proud. But he loves you, Jonathan, don't let him make you think differently. He might never say it, I don't know if he's the kind of person that even can say it, but he does. He makes you run all over working for him, right?" Jonathan nodded. "That means he trusts you. Your dad is the type that would ignore you if he didn't love you, if he didn't respect you. He gives you all those tasks because he trusts that you will do it right. He could use a Handy, but he doesn't. Jeff makes you get involved with all the projects with him because he knows you'll do a good job, because he wants your help, Jonathan. Don't ever think that he isn't proud of you, he's just the type that doesn't really know how to say it. He works hard though, to make sure we have enough. That we'll get by. And – I think to people like him – that's the closest, and the biggest 'I love you' that they can give."
She finished saying her piece, and silence reigned. Crickets chirped in the dusk, and voices murmured as people gathered around the firepits, eating and laughing. The smell of woodsmoke filled her nose and she heard the popping and cracking of wood burning. After a while Jonathan nodded, gave his thanks for her listening, and left.
He'd been hanging out with the soldiers a lot, Andy noted. Jeff was so busy with all of the projects necessary to keep Sanctuary running, getting running water and electricity was such a priority, that he had mostly neglected Jonathan beyond work. Jeff had been just as traumatized by the bombs as the rest of them, he just covered it by throwing himself into work. That was always the way he coped, when her parents and his wife had died, he coped by throwing himself into work, and that's what he was doing now. Sure, he'd was there for games and events, but only in body, his spirit was somewhere else. His mind working on figuring out a new equation or some such thing. She'd never called him on it because he was better than most of her friend's parents – they didn't even show up, so what did she really have to complain about? He wasn't even her dad, he was her uncle, but he still managed to show up for those events.
She pushed herself up off the wall she had been leaning on and joined Mrs. Heady and Mrs. Brunswick where they were by a fire.
"Evening," she greeted them. The two shifted further down so that there was room for her to sit with them.
Mrs. Heady cocked her head slightly, her brown eyes trained on Andy. "How is your little brother holding up, dear?"
Andy smiled wryly. "He's, uh, not my brother."
"Oh," Mrs. Heady replied, somewhat put off.
Andy felt as if she had made the situation awkward. "He's my cousin," she explained lamely. "Jeff is my uncle, not my father."
Mrs. Heady nodded her head in reply, satisfied with the explanation. "I see that you've moved into a house of your own. Gertie would be happy that there is someone there making the place feel alive again." She took a sip of the tea in her hand. "She never was the same after her husband left her and her children were always so far away."
"It was a bit much, living again with Jeff and Jonathan on top of all of this. We were having some conflicts that we really shouldn't have, and well, no one was living there. I like Aida well enough, I knew her before the bombs from when I helped Mrs. Whitaker with her hardens. I just hope that we can make the place, the entire neighborhood, really, something to see again." Andy replied. "After all of this," she gestured around with her hand, "something has to come of it. It just can't end like this, in such desolation."
"We will make something of it. The human race is surprisingly persistent," Mrs. Brunswick finally broke her silence. "We've lost everything, but at the same time, not quite." A shadow passed over her face and Andy reminded herself that the Brunswick's little one, Shaun, had been snatched out of the vault by an unknown party.
Sensing the mood, Mrs. Heady changed the subject. "So how did you get your name, Andy?"
This was more comfortable ground. "I know, it's quite masculine of a name. It's actually Andromeda, I just shortened it to Andy – Andromeda is too long. My parents named me after the Andromeda Galaxy. I think that they wanted me to become an astronomer. My mother always said that she wanted to see the day we landed on Mars. If the moon was this close, she would always tell me, then Mars was just the next step. I think that they knew that life here was ultimately doomed. I'm just glad that they didn't have to see this."
"What were you in college studying for?" Mrs. Heady asked.
"I started with biology, like my mother. But I'm not – wasn't – too sure yet. I was taking a lot of classes to do with plants and horticulture. I think that I would have studied to become a Master Gardener. Or maybe look at working with seed banks and stockpiles, or even work to design gardens and outdoor areas. I'm really not sure. There's a lot I could do with it. I was supposed to take a few aptitude placement tests before the bombs happened, but the bombs happened first."
Mrs. Heady nodded and then stood to her feet. "Well, let's get some of that food before it gets cold now, shall we?"
The three women got up to get some of the grilled meat that was being cooked. After dinner, Andy was walking back to her home. She purposefully took the long way around, rather than cut through the backyards, she followed the roads. She tucked her hands in next to her body, arms crossed for warmth. The air in front of her puffed white with her breath. The wind rustled the drying leaves of the trees, leaves that were red and orange before they would finally fall and become skeletal for the winter. She wondered how they would survive the winter. The limited trading they had been doing so far seemed to be working, but for how long? Would they just barely get by or would they ever be able to truly have lives once again?
Andy walked slowly, lost in thought. A few times she passed various soldiers patrolling, or on their way to their own places. When Andy reached her battered door, she lifted her hand up to turn the knob. To the right, leaves rustled in the bushes suddenly, as some thing bounded and jumped once, twice through the leaves, making rustling and crunching noises.
Andy jumped as a small thing landed on the porch at her feet. A harsh yowl cut through the air. Andy put her hand on her chest as she tried to stop her heart from beating so fast and exhaled heavily. Green eyes looked back up at her as the cat sat down, its tail curling around in front of it. The cat yowled again, as if to command her to open the door.
"Madame, what is the matter?" Aida chirped as she opened the door from inside. Taking the first opening, the cat darted inside.
Andy looked in the direction the cat went for a few moments before shaking herself out of a daze. "It seems we have a cat," she said to Aida before entering the house and shutting the door behind her.
