She couldn't stay. It hurt too much. Should she feel worry, anger, sadness, or all three? Butch never asked who it was that hadn't returned. But after everything she'd done, for Percy to be so upset by one person? It wasn't her dad; he ruled that out. The only option was that Percy got herself a boyfriend and didn't tell him. In any other circumstances, he would have teased her till she shot him. But right now, it felt like he would get shot if he even brought it up.

The tiredness was gone from her eyes, but there was nothing to replace it. She was committed to getting Butch to Rivet City, but what would there be after that? She could look for Charon, but did he even want to be found? Percy left Butch with Vera Weatherly and five hundred caps.

"That will get you started, and feed you for a few weeks if you stick to simple meals, but after that, you're on your own. Don't eat or drink anything Angela prepares for you, only Gary."

"Where are you gonna go now?" He took the caps, weighing them in his hand.

"Not quite sure. I think I need some new scenery. Might head west, but I doubt there's much between here and the Mojave."

Vera perked up. "There was a traveler hanging around the market selling punga fruit a few days ago. Said something about taking folks up to Point Lookout for two fifty a trip."

Butch gave a low whistle but Percy was intrigued. "Where can I find him now?"

"I think…He said south coast behind the Arlington Library. But he had a funny look. Wouldn't stop smiling, even when Flak told him to fuck off."

"I can handle a little crazy, if the ferry trip isn't too long."

The market was slow, folks were just starting to open up their shops for the day. Hargrave was happy to see her, especially when she sold him some clean vault suits. "These will make great pajamas. Thanks, kid!"

Shrapnel gave her a discount on her ammo. "Just take it and go. You'll put it to better use than most people that swing through here. You might even do a bit of good with it."

"God I hope so." Percy slid the caps over the counter. She paused biting her lip. "You really think I'm one of the good guys?"

Shrapnel leaned over the counter, dropping his voice. "I remember what you did for that little ex-slave. And I heard about GNR. And I'm no idiot, but I'm pretty sure you had a hand in getting rid of those Talon assholes—you or that fella you travelled with for a while. That was a lot of blood, I won't deny it; but it was spilt in the name of justice."

Percy was taken aback. It was one thing to try to convince herself of it, but to hear those words from someone else was…comforting.

Angela avoided eye contact as Percy passed by, rushing to the other side of the marketplace.

She was tempted to swim the channel, just to avoid the walk. But if Percy was going to run away, she might as well do it walking, not paddling.

Because that's what she was doing. There was no illusion in her head about that. Maybe in Point Lookout Percy could set up shop as a repair girl, or maybe hunter and butcher. The prospect of staying in one place for so long wasn't very appealing, but it seemed that moving around as much as she did was no better. Arlington was crawling with Brotherhood members. They weren't so bad, she supposed, but the strictness of their doctrine reminded her too much of the former Overseer. As much as Percy wanted to check the library for books in good condition, she didn't want to get wrapped up in their sacred quest.

A nervous woman was pacing the docks.

"Would you go away already? You're gonna scare away the customers." Tobar scowled from his ship.

"If one woman is keeping everyone else away, maybe I can spend my caps elsewhere." Percy called out, jumping down the rocks and striding towards the dock.

The woman was desperate. "Please you have to help me! My little girl—he took her away on that damned boat!"

Percy looked over at Tobar, eyebrow quirked as the woman clung to the front of her armor.

"She's crazy! I don't let anyone on this boat without a ticket. Business isn't so bad that I have to make people take the ferry!"

She pursed her lips. He didn't look like a bad guy, but this poor lady was getting hysterical.

"Hey, calm down." She lowered her voice and held the woman's shoulders comfortingly. "If I see your little girl, I'll send her your way, ok?"

"Oh, thank you! Thank you! Her name is Nadine. She has red hair and blue eyes. Just give her this note for me please?" She thrust the piece of paper into Percy's hands with shaking fingers.

"Of course." Percy pulled a water out of her backpack. The woman took the bottle eagerly. She watched at the dock while Percy negotiated price with Tobar.

"Two hundred and fifty caps is a little steep for a ride, don't you think?"

He scoffed. "Miss, do you know how much boat fuel costs? It's not exactly lying around these days. Tell you what: two hundred, and throw in three of those waters."

"Deal." They shook on it and after paying her fare, Percy went up to the top deck. Nadine's mother waved from the shore as Tobar started the engine. Percy waved back before looking out at the horizon. This was it, no turning back now. She squinted, looking into the water.

Had nothing but Mirelurks survived the bombs? Something small moved under the surface, causing Percy to jump. She looked closer. It took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to the movements of the water. Fish…so small…how did they survive that small? But there were so many of them. Huge schools moving simultaneously and with purpose. They nearly blended in with the waves, and probably would have if Percy wasn't tracking them so intently. Eventually she found herself down the stairs and leaning over port side as far over the edge as she could. She could see the fish in better detail now. Silver scales reflected sunlight back up to her, much like the waves they hid under. There was something mottled and green near the gills and just under each fin and Percy understood. Everything was affected by the bombs. Everything would eventually be destroyed, or learn to adapt.

She jumped as Tobar rang the bell up in the wheelhouse. She turned as he pointed towards the new shore drawing up behind the fog.

"There's the boardwalk." He called out. "There are a few sights to be seen farther north, but I'd stay away from that there mansion if I were you. Most of the locals tend to avoid it, but then again, I tend to avoid the locals too."

"How will I be able to tell the locals from everyone else?" She shielded her eyes from the sun as the fog began to clear.

"Oh trust me: You'll know."

The marshlands stunk of rot and were so wet that Percy had to cling to the trees and roots; otherwise she'd be swimming in muck. The boardwalk had something similar to a general store, and a few kooky establishments and motel rooms with little more than a hundred caps worth of scrap between them. She hadn't seen much in the way of people beyond the boardwalk however, and with the swamps taking up most of the eastern areas, she was more inclined to wander closer and closer to the mansion Tobar had warned her about. What could be so dangerous about a big old house? And another thing: she hadn't seen much in the way of fellow tourists, much less locals. This entire place was getting to be one big disappointment. There was game, but no tourists to sell to. If there were no tourists, and she couldn't sell to locals, who the hell was she supposed to sell to?

"I bet hardly anyone's touched that place if everyone keeps away…" She mused, looking in the direction of the looming mansion by the seashore. "Could probably find some old world stuff to sell…or not to sell…" Musing turned to longing as she thought of all the clothes, books, and other pre-war baubles she could find in a place like that. Tobar had sold this area so up it was practically through the hypothetical roof, so was anything else he said that trustworthy? Maybe he just wanted to save the scrap for himself.

"Looks fancy. The people who owned it forever ago probably had a wine cellar in the basement."

Back in the vault, she had read about all the preservatives businesses would put in their edibles. Fruit, steak, even eggs would last indefinitely past their natural expiration date. With the nation constantly living in fear of bombs falling, preservation of necessities became a craft well perfected. And the label of necessity quickly extended to spirits as hostilities mounted. Pre-war scientists made it such that the alcohol wouldn't evaporate from the rest of the solvent, and so long as nothing bad got into the bottle, even wine would stay good until it was drunk.

Percy had thoroughly made up her mind, when she heard a loud guttural holler from far behind her.

"Hooooweeee! Brother! I found another one!"

"Hot damn, son! Let's git'em!"

Percy had just enough time to turn before they began shooting at her.

'Shotguns…' Percy dived for cover over a shallow cliff as a bullet whizzed by a foot from her ear. 'And hunting rifles.'

What the hell were they? From a distance they looked deformed, but as they got closer, she was able to make out boils, lumps, and tumors so big and numerous, they made up at least half of one of the fucker's arms.

There were two of them, and the one that wasn't big was fast. And he had the long double barrel. The muck weighing down her pants was also keeping her boots from separating themselves from ground. She wouldn't make it far running. With one well tossed grenade she was able to take out the bigger one—either because he was too slow or because he was too stupid to realize the danger of the explosive that settled at his feet before going off. He melted in a chunky mass of irradiated plasma. The faster one was almost on her. It would take too long to pull out and ready her own rifle, so the ten millimeter sub would have to do. She dashed for the mansion, shooting off rounds at her assailant as he gained on her. Her thighs burned and she very nearly tripped over her boots as she turned to aim for his legs. Her heart thumped in her chest, her shoulders shook and she tried to steady her breathing as she was left with no choice but to let out a shuddering breath and fire.

Her aggressor wailed as his left leg was mangled in a rain of bullets. It barely slowed him down, but it did give her enough time to run for the front porch and more cover. Pulling the rifle off of her back, she rounded one of the support beams and took a knee before steading her gun against the railing of the veranda.

"You have one last chance to back off before I blow your brains out, you hear me?!"

He didn't hear her. Or didn't care. The latter was more likely. He was blinded by rage and bloodlust, not even bothering to reload his gun as he ran for her. His face exploded in a shower of skull and brain as the rest of his body took a few moments to realize there was no head to guide it. Thoroughly freaked out by this, Percy started firing into his chest until a voice rang out through the crackling speakers.

"For fuck's sake, he's dead! Now get in here and help me with these damn invaders if you're so eager to kill."

She jumped, turning to see a camera pointed right at her. "I thought this place was empty!"

"Well it bloody well was before I got here! Now get in here, Killer, and help me!"

The main room was huge, and would have been in pretty good shape if it weren't for all the people trying to kill her. They weren't very good at it but man were they desperate. She was right about the wine cellar, and tried to avoid shooting at the stores as tribals climbed though the walls and dropped from the ceiling. Half the time she couldn't tell where that man who demanded her help was, but he had dogs with almost as large a body count as she.

As the last wave was finally taken care of, Percy collapsed against the stairs, nursing her leg. Her right ankle was twisted from when she fell through a floor, and a few bullets managed to scrape her upper thigh. Wrapping the ankle for later, she numbed her leg and was just starting to sew the skin back together when her host finally made an appearance.

"And here I thought you were bullet proof by the way you kept on mindlessly running into the fray." He growled, looming over her and blocking her light. Despite being a ghoul, he didn't seem to be missing much in the way of hair. He wore thick rimmed glasses, a white striped suit, and a stern expression. Percy wasn't intimidated, but she was annoyed.

"Tough talk for someone who so recently begged me to help him." She muttered, biting off the string before starting on the next laceration. "Move over, I may be good, but even I can't sew in the dark."

"You did not save me, missy. Just because I don't want to waste my own ammo doesn't mean I needed your help." He moved out of her light, but didn't sit down. "Regardless, you and I have a common interest now. Those tribals are trying to kill me and I don't know why. I don't like being ignorant. If you're as good at infiltration as you are at killing, then I think we can help each other with a common enemy."

"I just got here; why would I start off by making enemies?" she shot a stim into her ankle, hissing as it readjusted and healed the muscle. Pushing herself up, Percy left to walk through the library she had seen earlier. But the ghoul wasn't willing to let her go.

"And what makes you think you haven't already? There are quite a few bodies around here that are a testament to the contrary."

About half the books were ruined by unchecked rot, and a fourth were too riddled with bullet holes to be legible. What was left was mostly fiction, plus an extensive encyclopedia and geography book. Closing the latter, she sighed and turned to face him.

"If I do this for you, I expect payment. I have a feeling I hit a dead end coming to this place, and I don't plan sticking around for much longer." Cramming the books into her bag, she turned and made her way to the cellar, but her host grabbed her before she could go.

"Now listen here, you mouthy tart: Whether you like it or not, you are involved. Depending on who or what is behind these attacks, I'm sure we can split whatever they have between us."

Raising an eyebrow, Percy waited for him to continue.

Getting impatient, he spat out, "And you can have whatever's in this damn place for all I care. All I need is the information on the terminals and any notes laying around, anyway."

"Including the wine?"

"A killer and a drunk. I should have known. Funny how often those go hand in hand. Yes, even the booze."

She gave him a searing look before thrusting her hand out. "The name's Percy, and I'm not a drunk. You got a name, or did the bombs destroy that too?"

"Cheeky. Desmond Lockheart, but Lockheart is good enough for your kind."

Percy chose to ignore that comment. "Now how exactly am I supposed to infiltrate these tribals? Can you tell me a little bit more about them?"

"Not much to tell except they seem to be fanatics over some local fruit. As for infiltration, there are a convenient amount of disguises no longer in use just laying around. I'm sure you can find one that fits; just grab it before rigor mortis sets in, will you?" He left her without another word, and Percy was reminded why most people were referred to as little more than assholes out in the wastes.

The faucets worked, but barely. Percy was able to get just enough water to fill a bucket and wash most of the dirt off her body. The hair couldn't be helped, so she wrapped it tight into a bandana to keep it out of her eyes. The dried mud could only be beat off of her armor, but since she would be dressing in what could barely pass for rags, that was a task for another time. Blood wasn't something to avoid, and she might be able to get it to work to her advantage, so when she found a get-up with splatters across the sides, she got dressed and made her way to Desmond's study.

"I'm headed out, Lockheart. Don't touch my things till I get back."

Desmond waved her off without turning as he began rifling through old paperwork with added vigor.

Percy was unused to traveling without her Pip-boy, but she felt the disguise would work better if she didn't stick out so obviously. Running the last lap to the church the tribals based at, Percy began rapping on the front gate, playing up being out of breath.

"Help! Help! Please open the door! Oh God, everyone else is dead! That Mansion is a deathtrap!"

"Who are you?" A voice replied over the intercom after a pause.

"Percy, I'm new."

"I don't remember you."

"I was let in last time!" She whined.

"By who?"

"I dunno, I didn't get their name! Come on, let me in!"

"Look I don't know you, but I do know you haven't been initiated yet. Now go do that unless you never wanna see the inside of this place!"

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Did they not tell you anything? The great and powerful Mother Punga! Deep in the swamps to the east!"

Percy rolled her eyes as the man continued with his spiel.

"There, in the inner sanctum of the swamps, you will find our great mother. Inhale her spores, and you too shall see her wisdom and find yourself!"