TITLE: It's a Long, Long Road
CHAPTER: 10
Remember: Spoiler Alert
Thanks again readers for all the kinds words and concrit. BTW, less romance novel and more action next time. I promise. And another thank you to the review who gave me the idea for Jake's response to her question.
I'm swaying on my feet, and she's asking philosophical questions. I had no answer for her and, dammit, she's looking at me as if I do. Hadn't she just said she'd waited for me. How do I answer her? There is no answer. Take drugs? Convince yourself what you're doing is right in the name of surviving another day? This is a violent, kill or be killed, tortured, crucified, or be fucking eaten world. My own little world shattered when I learned my father walked out of my life. An event that triggered that horrific day I was forced to fight my way out of the vault the only home I'd ever known.
Learning to survive outside the vault. Teaching myself how to use weapons. The first time I watched a man die at my hands. Ten years out here brought a thousand horrors, and each one left a scar. Small ones, large ones and some I can't even talk about. She's at four months with a genuine life full of real memories behind her. I only knew that world from the burned out refuse of its cities and what I learned in school. A family and children, in a safe environment. What must that be like? I suddenly felt jealous of those memories.
Then I remembered Little Lamplight and the hollowed out eyes of those lost children and blurted out the first thing that came into my head.
"'We fear violence less than our own feelings. Personal, private, solitary pain is more terrifying than what anyone else can inflict.'"
"Who said that?"
"Some guy named Jim Morrison. I think he was some kind of messiah or a god, or maybe a rock star. The only other quote I remember is Lady Macbeth. I'm sor..."
"Wait! I know it." She held her hands up, staring at them as if they didn't belong to her. "'Out, damn'd spot! out, I say!—One; two: why, then 'tis time to do it—Hell is murky—Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our pow'r to accompt?—Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?' Macbeth Act 5, scene 1."
She smiled, obviously proud of herself for remembering the quote. I watched her face change when the smile turned into laughter. Not happy laughing. Lady Macbeth laughing.
Fuck.
"Do you think we're the only two people left who learned anything but how to survive in this world?" Her eyes wide and brimming.
Now what was I supposed to do? Everything in me, including big Jake, told me to take advantage of this opportunity by putting my arms around her. And I wanted to because she was about to cry, and I'm thinking how good she would feel against me. Maybe she won't turn me in after all and I'm not just some dangerous Raider freak from the Wasteland, and I can be that be strong hero she needs like the men in those romance novels Matta used to read. And that I have more to offer than that behemoth out there.
I took a step toward her. She reacted immediately by stepping away from me and crossing her arms over her chest. Yes ma'am, body language loud and clear. Then I saw the wedding band on the third finger of her left hand.
"You're married," I said. Idiot.
"Yes," she replied scrubbing at her face.
"To that Paladin?" That's it, piss her off.
This time, she did laugh and her whole face light up. "Danse? Of course, not! But thank you for making me laugh. Both times. Been awhile."
"You're welcome." She seemed calmer now and that was good. I understood the effect of getting pushed to your own personal edge of sanity too many times. I extended my hand, "Maybe we could start over? I'm Jacob. I grew up in Vault 101. Then things went bad with the Overseer, and I left to find my father. I was eighteen at the time. That was ten years ago. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Thomas Flint."
Oh, hell yeah! She smiled again. Then her right hand is holding my right hand. The mask of control hasn't slipped completely back into place, but it's not far away. Just before it does, I'm looking directly into those blue eyes and she's squeezing my hand.
"My name is Sarah Flint. Sanctuary Falls, lately of Vault 111."
"Why do I get the feeling you didn't grow up in that vault, Sarah Flint?"
"Because I didn't. Four months ago, I was a housewife, with a handsome husband and an infant son. Make that two hundred years and four months."
She's pushing those words out like it's causing her pain. Like they've rolled around in her head for too damn long, and they probably had. You couldn't talk to that Paladin about this. And that's why you found her crying. What had I been through compared to this? She kept talking, and now I wish to be anyplace but here. No, that's not true. Whatever she'd been through she must be an extraordinary woman to have survived this long. I needed to hear her story.
"The bombs started falling. They gathered us up and took us to Vault 111. We thought it was fine. What did we know? They put us in a small chamber and told us to change clothes. My husband was right across from me. I watched them freeze him and our son. I screamed and banged on the glass, but no one would listen. Then it was my turn, and I went to sleep. I-I tried to stay awake by watching Shaun… I tried… he was so cold. I could see him shivering and Tom trying to keep him warm."
I tugged on her hand, and she took that last step into my arms.
"Sarah? This was your house, wasn't it."
She nodded her head, scrubbing her cheek against my shoulder. I'm only just beginning to understand the real depth of her strength when she whispered against my shirt. She isn't finished. There's more. I tightened my hold on her.
"At some point, they woke us up again. I watched them take my son away from Tom. When he tried to fight back, they killed him. They took my son away and put me back to sleep. The next time I woke up, I was alone. That was four months ago."
Was this my second chance? My moment to make up for the deaths of my friends in Megaton? The heavy tread of metal boots echoed off the broken pavement outside. I thought quickly.
"Sarah, I don't know how to wash away that blood. When I do, I'll let you know. I don't know how to bring your family back. But I won't let you take the fall with me, and I won't let you take this on alone. Meet me at the vault when you can. I'll head there and wait for you."
That seemed to make sense to her. She tossed me a bomber jacket, some food and a bag full of fusion ammo. I waited until Danse sounded as if he were right outside the front door and high-tailed it out the side door.
Dogmeat and his twin met me at the bottom of the creek. I started up the other side and pulled up short at the top of the ridge. A mutant stood skylined against the emergings stars. Next to him, two horses and Matthew holding the reins.
"Strong make sure you get away from metal man."
And now I'm about to have a conversation with a creature who symbolized the dangers of Wasteland. Does he know who I am? Does he know I slaughtered hundreds of his brothers in D.C.?
"I can't allow her to come with me. That Paladin is suspicious enough."
"Name is Strong. You can say it. Try. TRY."
"Y-Your name is Strong."
Matthew started laughing at what was no doubt my wide-eyed terror. Strong is grinning. Grinning.
"Knight Sarah come and go all the time. No one will worry. Sometimes she takes Strong. Strong can carry more than humans. Did you know that?"
"I do now. That's good information, Strong. Uh, thanks for letting me know… about Sarah, too."
"Strong thinks you should call her Knight Sarah. Strong not too sure you can take care of her as good as Strong can. Can you?"
"I promise you, I will take care of her, Strong. I promise."
"Human make a promise. Break promise? Strong eat him. Bye, now. Knight Sarah be here soon, with food and weapons. You wait. Come little human named Matthew, Strong have much to teach you."
They headed back down the path leaving me with the horses. Now I'm alone, and it's very dark. At night, with the lights of Sanctuary illuminating the area the vault seemed like a graveyard. The skeletons told me it was true. I shook the visions of those people screaming as they died in fear and confusion away. I found the trailer and the mechanism. Well, shit. I can't very well take the horses down there. Even if they did fit on the elevator pad, I had no idea what lay below. So it's me and two horses trying hard not to freeze to death.
Luckily I found bedrolls attached to the saddles and rolled one out on the floor of the small trailer. With my weapon ready, the dogs happily curled up on either side of me. All five of us fell asleep to the normal night sounds, of gunfire, wild animal and the wind blowing unhindered across the empty landscape.
And when she came to me, I pulled her gently down and held her until she stopped trembling. I was the last person she needed to be afraid of and by morning, she would know it. Know it, in her heart. She tasted… Shit! She hit me! She didn't strike me (Great pun! Handsome, and witty. Right?) as the type to like it rough…
"Strong warned you."
After making a complete fool out of myself nearly falling out of the trailer with the bedroll wrapped around my legs, I blinked the sun out of my eyes. Sarah wasn't looking at me because she was too busy strapping the bedroll down. Strong is glaring at me with his fist wrapped around the handle of his sledgehammer. When she finished, she tossed me a bundle of something metallic. Turned out, it's armor and nice armor too. Nothing like we had in D.C. While I managed to strap it on over my clothes, she mounted one of the horses like she'd been doing it all her life.
"You know how to ride?" Someone just go ahead and carve an L on my forehead.
"Of course, I know how to ride," she stated, still not looking at me, with all the uppity class sound of someone who grew up expecting to have a handsome husband, beautiful son and live in Sanctuary Falls. "I started taking lessons when I was six. I suggest you mount up."
So off we went into the morning sun with the two dogs trotting happily ahead of us. I needed to get my mind of that silent women riding slightly ahead of me. I won't notice how straight and tall she sits in the saddle or how the sun glints off the red-gold streaks in her hair… Shit!
"What's your dog's name?" Seemed like a good neutral question.
"Dogmeat."
"I meant, what's your dog's name?"
"Dogmeat."
"No, my dog…" Shut up, Jake. Just shut up. And just to show my superior manliness, I kicked my horse to a canter and made it to the top of the ridgeline ahead of her. You know, just to make sure there's nothing dangerous waiting for us on the other side. That's all.