THE MINUTEMEN
CHAPTER NINE: INTO THE WASTES
[4 months after P4M-523]
In hindsight, maybe packing up and heading out to a Castle on the East coast when they had a nice cushy homestead all setup in Sanctuary might not have been the wisest decision he'd ever made. It was also a notion he wished he'd had a little earlier as he watched the group of pissed off Feral Ghouls they'd just woken up come charging at them. From his vantage point on top of the surprisingly well-preserved bus he had a real good view of them as they clawed their way out of the hidey-holes and lunged for Sam.
"Jesus Christ!" He hissed, and grabbed a hold of her by the back of her tac vest and dragged her bodily up onto the bus. She yelped but didn't protest as she tucked her feet in and away from the things trying to grab a chunk. With Sam safe, Jack's eyes immediately went to Preston searching for him, but he was half way up a fire escape kicking at the bastards following, apparently the man was a sprinter.
Ghouls. He was really starting to hate these bastards. A shudder went through him as he recalled their almost unpleasant ends the last time they'd encountered these evil bastards and he tried to focus and keep his head in the game. They had to survive this round too.
"Zombies Carter... why the fuck don't we call these damn things what they are… Zombies!" He snarled. "I am so not going out like those poor bastards in the woods did, nobody is going to damn well EAT ME!" He bellowed that last bit down at the group of them as they clawed up at him and he kicked one dumb enough to stick its head up through the roof hatch, until his foot went straight through with a squelch and it stopped coming. Sam had her pistol out and with a precision born of a lifetime at a range was picking off head shots whilst he bodily kept the ones too close for comfort off them with his shotgun.
It wasn't like that time in the forest. There they'd been unprepared, surrounded by trees and fog with no clear line of sight, hardly any light and had been facing near enough a horde of the blighters. This time they had the high-ground, a clear view and really pissed off intent. This was payback he realised grimly as he and Sam put bullets in their heads with ruthless efficiency and they went down like the bags of bones they knew all too well they were.
Preston let out a shout and Sam refocused to take out the ones on him whilst Jack downed two in one with an exuberant shout that was more out of adrenalin than any real enjoyment of seeing the shrunken blank eyed monsters up close and personal. The sound of growling and clawing stopped and he felt like he'd gone deaf for a moment as he considered that they may have actually survived. Again.
He glanced at Sam who was crouched down looking pale. "Zombies are generally slow Jack. These things are fast remember?" Sam reminded needlessly, looking a little shell shocked herself from her quick travel up the side of a bus at his hands. But she didn't need to remind him of anything, his knees still remembered all too well how fast they were when they were damn well chasing you. He caught her eye, and she nodded, she was okay. He reached out and squeezed her leg reassuringly.
"Well headshots are still the way to go." He muttered. "Nice to see that classic hasn't been futzed with." He sat back on his heels for a moment, catching his breath and willing his heart rate to calm.
Sam nodded, looking a little pale and her hands had started to shake he noted as she knelt down next to him to catch her breath as he reached out to cover one with his, letting her sag gently against him as they took a moment.
"Show me something a headshot doesn't work on… other than one of Anubis Supersoldiers." She quipped finally and then glanced over at Preston and called out to him to check if he was doing okay. He gave her a shaky thumbs up.
"Nice shooting!" Preston exclaimed, slowly making his way down from his impressive dash up the ladders.
"Nice running." Jack snipped back. The guy had pretty much left them in the dirt back there.
Preston shrugged. "Hey you had the high ground and the sharpshooter, I was looking like a Salisbury steak to those things, hell yes I was running!" He reached the bus and held out a hand to help them down, Carter grasped it dropping down beside him as Jack took a slightly less 'knee jostling' route, sliding down the bonnet.
"So," Jack rubbed his hands together, ignoring the slight tremor in his own, dismissing it as adrenalin. "I vote we avoid swarms of Ghouls. Seriously those things just took about ten years off my life. How the hell do they just pop up like that?" Twice now they'd managed to get the drop on him. He risked a look at Preston and didn't see quite the same level of fear, adrenalin maybe, but more resigned. And he'd thought he was one tough 'SOB', man they bred them tough out here!
"You get used to it." Preston explained. "Or you die and don't much care." He added quietly. "But you've seen them, their relentless, a pack of ghouls like this small group could clear out an entire Supermutant camp, they're like locusts, or a hurricane or something. A force of nature, you just gotta get out of their way." Preston admitted.
Sam toed a body looking faintly queasy. "This isn't a force of nature, there's nothing natural about them." She corrected talking more to herself than them but Jack caught Preston's eye as he slid up behind her and placed his hand gently against her back, offering his support and whatever comfort he could.
"These were people once Jack. The original people from this World and they've been stuck in this living hell for nearly 200 years slowly liquifying inside, resorting to eating everyone else." She turned away and buried her head in Jack's shoulder. He didn't think about it, that was how he dealt, but Sam never did seem to have that luxury.
"Which is why we put them out of their misery." He consoled. She knew as well as he did that there was no curing these ex-people. She nodded resolutely and seemed to give herself a mental shake, holstering her pistol and shouldering the rifle slung over her chest as they carried on up the damn apocalypse brick road, off to see the 'Emerald City'.
Apparently in order to get to this promised Castle of Preston's there was a whole lot of Wasteland to traverse and since they were going that way, a stop off to recruit and refuel in Diamond City was on the cards or the 'Great Green Jewel' of the Commonwealth as Mama Murphy had helpfully supplied. Jack preferred Emerald City, but he'd been outvoted.
Jack suspected a part of this was also Preston's way of making up for having diverted them from Diamond City the first time they'd met. They never had made it back that way again. No time like the present he supposed and he was kind of looking forward to seeing the stadium again which was where this Wasteland City had apparently sprung up.
"You do realise that I'm voluntarily going to the home of the Red Sox… Grandpa O'Neill would spin in his grave."
"I thought it was the Red Stockings?" Preston queried and Jack pulled up short. Sam gave him a look and rolled her eyes, he heard her non-verbal 'if you ruin our backstory over baseball I'll shoot you', loud and clear.
"Sure… much better name for those pretentious bunch of assholes." He grinned delighted by that.
"Take it you weren't from Boston?" Preston chuckled, and came to walk alongside him, apparently he was a baseball fan… who knew.
"Nope Chicago originally, the Windy City. But I grew up in Minnesota. Then spent more years than I'd care in Colorado… mostly underground, which is probably the best place to be in Colorado." He added with a grin as he poked fun at Cheyenne Mountain.
Preston frowned, the historical references mostly going over his head. "So what was your baseball team called?" He pressed as Jack picked up the pace a bit in time with Sam who had stopped and was fiddling with her Pip-Boy on her wrist, spinning it around like she was triangulating something.
"Minnesota Twins." Jack smiled, baseball had always been a fond memory, mostly because it tended to involve Charlie. "Back when I was frozen we were slated to win the Division that year, bummed I missed it to be honest." Jack admitted, technically that was true but on a parallel Earth in 2005, not that Preston would know or be able to check anyway….
"My kid and I used to play… he did Little League." He trailed off, wincing as he
wondered if he'd just opened up a barrage of questions about Charlie he didn't want to answer.
"Bit of a violent game that for a kid isn't it?" Preston looked faintly alarmed, but had tactfully brushed over the 'kid' issue, or simply not registered it as an issue at all compared to his clear issue with the game itself.
Jack gave him a confused look. The one that Preston had quickly realised meant there was some kind of cultural gap.
"Baseball's the one with the bats right, where you bludgeon the other team to
death?" Preston queried looking at him like he was more nuts than he already suspected.
Jack blinked and Sam barked out a laugh and hastily stifled it and turned back to her Pip-Boy as though Preston hadn't just besmirched America's greatest pass time.
"What!?" Jack hissed. "No. It's where you hit a ball around a field shaped like a diamond and try to score points." He gave Preston a thousand-yard stare. "Don't tell me we're going to the home of the Red Sox and no one there has a clue how to actually play baseball." Preston shrugged helplessly.
Jack rounded on Sam looking beseechingly at her. "I'm not playing baseball with you." Sam muttered as he opened his mouth to ask the question. "I'm sure you'll find a bunch of drunken idiots in the city to oblige you in resurrecting a game apparently no one has missed in 200 years." She bit out dripping sarcasm and wearing a shit eating grin.
"Ouch." He pressed his hand over his chest. "That actually hurts. See Baseball is dead. Now I know it's the end of the World." He deadpanned feeling slightly depressed by that idea.
"Golf too if we're really lucky." Sam smiled brightly at him trying to lighten the moment and clearly finding it amusing despite him, but damn that was cold.
"Still got fishing though!" Jack added just as brightly and she rolled her eyes good naturedly. He knew he'd have bought her around to fishing eventually if he'd managed to drag her out there with him. Although if he was honest actual 'fishing' with her in his cabin had been fairly low down on the priority list. Right now it would be rock bottom.
"Don't remind me." Sam muttered with a shudder. "Although I'll admit its slightly more interesting now that the fish really bite." She quipped and he wagged his finger at her in admonishment at her snark. God he loved that smart mouth of hers.
"You two sure you're not married?" Preston cut in suddenly, pausing his internal musing's as to what he was going to do with that smart mouth; clearly the guy had been watching their exchange avidly.
"Yep." Jack replied, "We still like each other too much for that."
Sam buried her smirk as she looked down to fiddle with her Pip-Boy again wisely choosing not to comment when a crackling a sound suddenly cut through the air which he recognised as a radio signal. They'd picked up a few frequencies now and again back in Sanctuary but nothing that she could get a fix on. Until now apparently as what was distinctly a voice… a man's voice, singing a jaunty little number came out of the speakers he hadn't realised were on her fancy arm device.
"Atom bomb baby little atom bomb
I want her in my wigwam.
She's just the way I want her to be
A million times hotter than TNT."
Jack turned and looked at her, whipping off his sunglasses so she got the full glare. "Sam… what the hell is that?" He growled wishing he'd not heard that irritating little ditty of an ear worm as he felt it reverberating around his skull and digging in, in a way he knew meant he'd be humming it for days.
"Diamond City Radio!" Preston exclaimed clapping his hands with a clearly delighted grin. "Best radio station in Boston… possibly the Commonwealth."
The irritating barely pubescent voice broke over the speakers again. "That's Atom Bomb Baby, by the…erm… yeah the Five Stars, right there. And next up we have…erm… one minute."
Jack gave Preston a 1000-yard stare. "That's the best radio station you got out here?" Preston was still grinning. "I'm thinking there wasn't a lot of choice, am I right?" He snarked.
"That's Travis, radio DJ. Last guy was better, but kids okay." Perston laughed at him, "Not your music style General?" He quipped with a lazy grin. "I'd have thought that would be all the rage when you were born, that's like a 1950s classic." He yanked his chain and Jack felt his eyebrows hit his hairline and Sam stifled a laugh which was completely at his expense. Hell actually Preston wasn't that far off on the year, but as far as he knew he and Sam were frozen down in the vault a good Century after that, which meant he'd been going for insulting… punk.
"If that's what you call music son, then shoot me now." He told him with complete sincerity, really embracing his old man grouch.
Sam pointed her gun at him. "You sure? Seems a bit of a waste, but you know if you insist." She gave him a shit eating grin and winked. Her finger on the safety. Safety first of course, even in a Wasteland.
"Cute." He snapped at her and reached out grabbing the gun off her sharply and dragging that same hand into him bodily so he could kiss her soundly. "This smart mouth's going to get you in trouble… Colonel." He rasped, kissing her again and ignoring the way their mouths were curved into matching smiles.
"Oh man you two… seriously, I think I preferred it when there was all that unresolved tension and uncomfortable silences you could cut with a knife." Preston groaned, throwing up his arms in exasperation as Jack dipped her just like he had once before in the Command room and continued to kiss her thoroughly enough to steal the laughter until she was breathing heavily against him and clutching his neck. It was his turn to pull back smirking at the darkened look in her eyes as another song even worse than the last one came on, the voice all smooth and crooning this time. Like some 50's retro-nightmare come to life.
"I don't want to set the world on fire
I just want to start a flame in your heart.
In my heart I have but one desire
And that one is you, no other will do."
Jack rolled his eyes and grabbed her by the waist. "This one maybe… maybe, you can dance to." He muttered swinging her into his arms and doing just that, although at this tempo it was more of a sensual swaying. His hands sliding over as much of her as he could decently manage and still call it dancing. Sam grinned and curled her hands around his waist, taking a handful or two of his ass.
"Really… your gonna do that, right now?" Preston questioned shaking his head and when Sam slid her arms up around his neck and pressed her front to his. "You're doing this to mess with me aren't you." Preston pouted. "This ain't going in the Minutemen's new manual, or maybe it is, as a cautionary tale about how to get shot fast by dancing in the damn road." He griped stalking away to give them his back.
"Don't be a spoilsport Preston." Sam murmured, her lips against his as he swayed them, kissing him softly, they hadn't had much time together since that first time and his hands itched to touch her constantly now he could. But Preston was right of course, it was insane dancing like this, but then the Minuteman had his rifle out covering their damn recklessness, blaring out music in the middle of the day in wide open space. But to hell with misery for a moment. He was going to dance with a beautiful woman, his beautiful woman.
The song faded out and was replaced by the whiny nasal voice of Travis stammering all over the airwaves, thoroughly ruining the mood as Jack regretfully released Sam, sliding his hand over her arms as he went, slow to give up the moment.
She reached up and stroked his face tenderly a look of something close to happiness on her face that he hadn't dared imagine being able to put there… not here and not like that.
"Come on flyboy. We go to keep moving, it'll be dark soon and I'm not camping here."
Jack sighed heavily. "You realise when we get to Diamond City I'm going to feed that guys microphone up his ass."
Sam supressed a smirk and instead tried for diplomacy. "Why don't we play nicely with the folks in the Big City Jack. Stick to teaching them baseball, make friends and influence people and all that." She advised, knowing full well that was so not his strong suit.
"You know… I've heard that before, last time you said something like that to me we ended up in matching orange boiler suits calling ourselves Thera and Jonah as we worked ourselves to the bone." He tutted and she looked faintly startled by the reminder of their former lives for a moment, or perhaps it was just the stark memory of their alternates and the 'almost' that had happened then.
"We danced then too… do you remember?" She asked coyly and he grinned.
"Oh yeah, steam pipes and grime although I think that was more of a jig than a dance, to some very butch singing voices from the workers of Sector 7G." He chuckled. "Line dancing… was their no level of depravity they didn't inflict on those poor sods." He shook his head in actual dismay. He'd not wanted to know he could apparently line dance.
"Don't remind me, especially that hair cut they gave me… wasn't our best look." She laughed; he hadn't minded the hair but he had to agree those outfits looked more like someone had taken some throw pillows and decided to make a bag out of them and call it clothing. Even she hadn't been able to pull them off.
"I thought the rumpled pixie look was cute on you." He admitted quirking his lips at her irritated look, but he distinctly remembered thinking that as both Jonah and Jack.
Preston was staring at them both his rifle over one shoulder his eyes narrowed as he tried to follow what Jack imagined was a clearly non-sensical conversation by anyone's standards.
"You know, if I hadn't seen both of you bleed red, I'd swear you were both from another planet." He gave them both and eyeroll and stalked off and Sam blinked clearly startled by that offhand comment, Jack coughed breaking the moment as he chose to ignore that.
Their moment of light relief past quickly, and they were once again trudging through the dusty roads, hopping over burnt out shells of cars, buses, you name it, it was out here, some in better condition than others. The abandoned dilapidated prams he sometimes saw got him the most… especially if they had a doll or toy in there still.
They passed two more towns that day infested with feral ghouls and by the last town Jack was about ready to demolish something sturdy with his bare hands. It was a procession of death and desperation and feral screaming and heart stopping adrenalin and he was eternally grateful that he'd taken one shining moment in all that misery, to hold Sam. She was his light out here he realised, he just hoped she felt the same about him and he tried to hold onto that happy look and that soft smile as she'd let her blue eyes twinkle up at him. Because right now her eyes looked haunted and tired. There was only so much death and gore a person she be expected to meet out in one day.
"We need to find somewhere to hole up." He admitted finally, Sam looked about ready to drop, not that she would let herself, but she nodded almost gratefully at the idea.
"There's a Red Rocket up ahead." Preston pointed looking through his scope to the truck stop diner. They're usually pretty defensible if you get up on the roof. Sam checked her Pip-Boy, as with this whole area the Geiger meter was spiking, which was probably why it was so infested with Ghouls, the only things left standing.
"You know, I'm starting to rethink this whole traipse across the Wasteland by foot thing." Jack grumbled as they started walking. "Carter... can we make your next project a tank... hell I'd take an open top convertible right about now. Just something with wheels that moves faster than they do."
Preston rolled his eyes. "This what you guys did back then, drive everywhere?"
"No." Jack groused. "Sometimes we flew." he grinned at Preston's look of polite amusement, "Really fast." He sighed, God he missed flying. Even now nearly 10 years being out of a chair. Preston sidled up to him, on alert, scanning the area, but Jack realised that the guy quite liked hearing about the old times. Although Jack didn't quite have the heart to tell him he was remembering a 'different Earth's old times, so most times he kept it vague enough not to draw any pointed questions.
"Or we rode." Sam added and he glanced back at her and she shrugged. "What, I miss my baby."
Preston startled, "You had a baby?"
Sam blinked. "No, its just an expression. I had a motorcycle. People, some people," she clarified at Jack's look, "got attached to their vehicles or other objects of importance, sometimes we named them." She added sheepishly and he smirked. He loved her in her riding leathers, which thankfully seemed to be a look out here.
"Oh." Preston paused. "This is Vera." he pointed to the laser musket with a proud grin. "This is my baby, right here." The two of them shared a look before they started laughing and Jack rolled his eyes, he'd never got the idea of naming inanimate objects. One tool was as good as another.
"Okay, kids, settle down. We've got one more extermination round and then we can settle down around a campfire and tell ghost stories." He snipped, only half joking. But the effect was sobering and he regretted seeing the smile come off Sam's face.
The last two places they'd started staking out targets from a distance, they'd found a pretty decent sniper rifle and Sam had been taking the killing shots, but it was taking a toll on her he could see. This much senseless death shouldn't feel like routine. He took the rifle from her and indicated with a look that she was going down this time, she handed it over wordlessly but he thought he detected relief there. From his vantage spot on top looking down the hill he watched Preston and Sam go. It killed him to do it, but he was better able to protect Carter up here than he was down there, just like she'd been doing for him, granted she was a better shot long range with a rifle, but he wasn't a slouch. But she'd be fine down there she was light on her feet and Preston, well he could take care of himself, which meant she had one less thing to worry about down there, other than her own ass. And his knees were aching something fierce now, slow was dead out here, he'd learnt that lesson the hard way.
They were efficient, almost practiced now, he even managed to spot a couple of sleeping ones before they had a chance to get up and try and take chunks out of them. Although Carter had pointed out the town before, that it was highly unlikely they were sleeping, given as they didn't really have much of a brain left. More likely they were simply dormant between feedings. He liked his idea better. He pretty much thought they'd got them all and he spotted Carter turn and give him the regroup signal.
But he made that fatal flaw that all snipers are taught right from basic training, not to do. He forgot about his own surroundings, of securing his own ass first. There was a sound like a groan and then there was something clawing at his back, his leathers kept its hands at bay but it was strong and he felt it lurch him up, throwing him over so it could get to the meaty bits in front. He batted with his hands and arms, trying to shove the damn thing away as it used that ferocious energy to batter at him relentlessly. He had to tear a hand away he realised or it was all over, as he reached down desperately for his pistol strapped to his thigh holster. The thing bit him causing Jack to let out a roared of pain and fury as he tried beating it to death with his own damn elbow. Fuck he hadn't wanted to die like this, eaten alive by a fucking zombie. Worst way to go, ever. And a fate he'd only just survived the last damn time he'd been ambushed by these bastards.
There was a growl and something brown and furred shot across his chest and barrelled straight into the Ghoul, knocking it clean off him. It took him a moment as he scrambled to his feet, winded and bruised and so full of adrenalin he already had his gun in his hand before he'd realised it. It was a dog, a damn dog, and it had the Ghoul in its jaws, desperately trying to take its head of with its own teeth by the looks of it as it clawed at the poor thing. Jack whipped up his gun and stalked forward, plugging one sound shot straight into the Ghouls head and watching with satisfaction as the thing fell limp.
The dog growled and gave the jaw one last crack before taking the head off and falling back with a 'whuff' that sounded to Jack like he was grading him well on his take down. Then he stopped, sat back on his haunches and just stared at Jack. It was the darndest thing, it wasn't wild, clearly it had been raised by humans, and it wasn't mangy like the rest of the animals he'd seen, in fact it was a big beautiful German Shepherd. Its fur needed a good brush through, but his teeth looked clean and his nose wet and bright and it was obviously strong.
"Hey boy." Jack crouched down, glancing around and making sure nothing else was going to take him out as he extended the back of his hand and waited to the dog. The dog cocked his head and then like it had already decided to like him, padded forward and nudged his hand with its head. Jack grinned, extending his hand and burying it in all that doggy fur, stroking the animal.
"You just saved my life, you know that." He patted the dog, honestly he could say that a lot of people had saved his life before, never a dog. It was oddly refreshing. The dog barked once and he nodded, impressed. Well whoever he used to belong to, he'd clearly been well trained. Jack stood.
"See ya around." he stroked the head one more time, before turning to go. The dog followed. Jack sighed. Sam would kill him if he bought home a dog. A dog they'd have to feed, it was hard enough to feed yourself these days. Although, the animal was clearly well fed, maybe it knew how to hunt.
Jack glanced down at the dog trotting beside him, directly at his heel. Well trained. He could work with that, Sam would come around. She liked big dumb animals, he was case and point. He stopped and stared down at the dog.
"Fine. You can come, but it ain't just me you got to convince. There's a woman up there, yellow hair great legs, go be all... likeable at her. She says you can stay, you can stay." He bent down noticing a collar.
'Dogmeat'. He read. Well someone had a sense of humour at least.
He strolled into the Red Rocket garage and heard a weapon click. Sam had her gun pointed at the dog, only half-cocked but he appreciated her caution all the same. "Hey easy." he waved her down.
"He saved my life. I figure that earns him a pass and a few free meals." Jack sidled up to her, the dog at his heels, intending on kissing her, it had been a trying day and he needed to reassure himself she was fine.
But Sam's eyes were on his chest, her hands shot out, the gun abandoned as she examined his neck. "You've been scratched." she informed him, "It got this close?" her eyes were big and blue and worried and he tugged her in for a kiss anyway, just because he could. And because he'd almost died and because he'd wanted to celebrate being alive by kissing her at least a dozen times before… probably more.
It didn't disappoint. Sam's lips, her mouth and yeah, that was all the celebration he needed.
She allowed it for a few moments before gently pulling back and dropping her forehead to his, her hand trailing his stubbled cheek.
"Nice as that is, let's secure the site shall we." Her eyes scanned him and her hands trailed his arms finding the bite wound on his forearm, her finger traced the bloody ridge of it gently, looking faintly horrified.
"Jack, this looks deep… my God it's a bite." She exclaimed looking mad and scared enough to smack him upside his head.
"It's fine, barely nicked me." He muttered pulling his shirt down to conceal it. "Although… if your willing to give out sympathy kisses?" His eyebrows waggled and she rolled her eyes shoving him away lightly.
"I'm mad at you for being this careless." She glared at him, "And I'm putting some of that weird ointment we used for burns and scrapes on those wounds before you go all Ghoul on me." She instructed brushing over his chest, clearly he hadn't distracted her with that kiss, but she was smiling softly again as he closed his hand over hers on his chest and she sighed concern leeching out of her a little now she could see he was in fact 'fine' enough to be cracking jokes. Which made him feel slightly more pleased than someone almost eaten by a ghoul, probably had a right to be. She pulled out the pot and carefully applied some of the weird odourless grey paste to his forearm and then his chest, her fingers trailing over the skin lightly for a moment, their eyes met.
"If we're talking rub downs and ointment, you know I think it got me just…" She cocked an eyebrow daring him to complete that sentence. He wimped out at the scathing look and ducked his head chuckling. Still slightly terrified of flirting with Carter when she was mad…. yeah, same old. She sauntered away, pocketing the magic ointment and he couldn't help but grin, she'd totally been tempted for like a second he figured. Maybe tonight.
It seemed that Dogmeat understood his earlier instruction just fine, because the previously quiet, controlled dog was suddenly all over her, rubbing against her legs, wagging its tail and hopping up on his hind legs to look intently at her face. Sucking up to the real alpha in the group. Traitor.
Sam was grinning and patting the dog with variations of 'good boy' and he knew she was more of a cat person but clearly a dog would do in a pinch. Especially if it saved his life.
"Fine." She sighed at the dog. "You can stay for a bit, honestly what did that silly General do? Did he forget to check his six... yes he did, yes he did." She teased, rubbing Dogmeats fur roughly, who was clearly becoming as quickly enamoured with her as he was as he butted her with his head, whuffing lightly.
"Oy." Jack exclaimed mildly affronted that she was teasing him via dog. That was sort of underhanded. "Don't make him an accomplice to your snark. Ruuuude."
She rolled her eyes at him. "I'm not calling him Dogmeat." She retorted with an eyeroll, clearly having seen the collar. "Its sick."
"It's what he responds too!" Jack yelled back as she stalked away, the damn dog turned back and he swear he saw him shrug. Even Preston who was watching the exchange with amusement smirked at him and shook his head.
"Yeah. Yeah. I told you she was the boss." he told Dogmeat muttering as he followed after her with the dog beside him and Preston taking up their six.
"Reckon you could get used to Rover?" he posed quite seriously at the dog who gave him what he swore was a smile and head shake and ambled after what he correctly assumed would be his meal ticket.
They walked until they reached a river crossing and a big study stone bridge, across it was what had clearly been a town, but it had been barricaded up behind high metal walls squinting Jack was certain he could see turrets sticking out. Looked like someone was dug in tight. The bridge ahead had concrete blockades across it at the far end closest to the town. There was also evidence of pitched gunfights, explosions… some structural damage, but it was the cleared area in front of him that gave him pause the general level of debris there making the hairs prickle on the back of his neck. He put his hand out across Preston's chest as he wandered forward and shook his head at him as he stared down at the bridge surface.
"Wait… something's up." He told the other man firmly. Sam came to stand where he was and looked at what he was seeing.
"Mines." Sam confirmed with a grimace, saying what he'd suspected from the damage he could see around and the careful cut back of the surroundings. "I'm surprised they haven't bought the whole bridge down like this before now. Idiots." She crouched down and examined a hairline crack in the stone, looking around it to see if it spread to the foundations too with a shake of her head.
Preston glanced through his scope. Then back at the two of them, looking faintly impressed. "Yeah I can see it now, frag mines… maybe pulse mines, hidden in the rubble." He lowered his rifle. "Impressive spot." Jack shrugged, he'd been around enough mine fields to know the signs. Especially active ones.
Preston's head was back in his scope and he withdrew with a dark look.
"We got Gunners. Damn." Preston hissed and took off his hat for a minute, smacking it against his leg and looking around as if expecting to find an alternative route. He turned back to them putting his hat back on and Jack recalled the tale he'd told about the Quincy Massacre around the Campfire. It had been how Preton's little group of misfits had come to be in Sanctuary really, having fled the massacre.
Way Preston told it, one of his old Minutemen pals had lost faith in the cause after the death of their General, and tired of all the political squabbling – Jack could relate, he'd been General about 5minutes back on Earth and he was sick of it. But apparently for this ex-friend the Gunners had seemed like the next best hope of a safer, ordered Commonwealth. Jack personally thought the guy 'Clint' he recalled cause the name had made him think of 'Eastwood', had clearly seen a power vacuum and attempted to seize it. Town of Quincy just got the short end of it, being well-established and so they'd wanted it. Ol' Mama Murphy had seen them coming though with her half-baked visions which had given the folks that wanted to listen some warning, they'd called the Minutemen for help. And they'd come, even arrived in time to beat back a recon force, some Lt Col Hollis leading the charge Preston right there with them. They'd done what they could shored up the place, setup walkways and ramps across the rooftops to give them higher ground and prevent retreat, but they'd known they couldn't stand against the invading Gunner force if they'd committed to the attack so they called for reinforcements. They were outgunned, outnumbered and the Gunners were picking away at their defence's day after day. But then Hollis had made a fatal flaw… he'd thought he was dealing with honourable men. They'd called him out to discuss terms of a surrender and shot him dead.
Preston had told him grimly that it went from bad to worse, they were trapped for days in a siege but the reinforcements never came, his ex-pal Clint and the Gunners had taken advantage of the highway intersection the town had been built around, blowing out the support structures in the dead of night. The crashed road became a ramp over the walls and just like that they were taken by surprise and breached. A whole town except Preston and the twenty people he'd managed to get out were slaughtered. Then the Wasteland in its mercy had picked those survivors down to the handful he and Sam had saved. It had certainly been one of those tales that had flattened the atmosphere in the camp right out. Jack was surprised after that that Preston would believe in the Minutemen so much, but way he saw it, had the Minutemen still been stable, strong, Gunners never would have got a look in.
Jack put his hand on Preston's shoulder and squeezed it supportively. Man had his demons too and today probably wasn't the day to face them. Not with just the three of them. Four he supposed with the Dog – who he was totally counting.
"We'll find another way." Jack told him firmly. "No point starting another turf war for the Minutemen just yet before we've even gotten our first recruits in and our base up and running right?" Preston didn't make eye contact but nodded with clear relief. Jack patted his shoulder and retreated, that was about as much emotional support as he could give standing outside a minefield, which was currently between him and a safe route to this damn Diamond City.
Jack looked over at Sam. "We got another option here?" He pointed out over the area, seemed like they'd blocked off the whole town, including the bridge across the river; he wasn't sure he fancied a detour for miles through rough terrain with god knows what out there in the wilds. Or a swim… he was quite certain 'there be monsters' in there, plus he'd been popping his Rad-X pills regularly but they were starting to run low, they'd need a restock before he thought about dunking his whole body in something that radioactive again. Seemed in this area the whole place was lighting up Sam's 'clicky' counter.
Sam frowned. "I don't want to go further South, there's a huge crater there that I think looks like ground Zero for the nuclear explosion that decimated this entire area." Sam explained and Jack sighed, that explained the increased 'clicking' then. And here he thought taking a stroll suited up through Chenobyl had been brave, this was waaaaay closer to a nuclear fallout site than he ever wanted to be. He doubted his 'fertile balls' would stay that way for long out here.
"The Crater of Atom." Preston shook his head explaining, "Yeah we aren't getting that way, the skin will slough right off your bones before your even half way around." He looked uneasy, "Plus I hear the Children of Atom set up there… any part of us survives the radiation, those whackos will see to it that we're good and dead for encroaching on their 'holy site'."
"Do I even want to know what they are?" Jack pressed and Preston gave him a head shake. "So we need another way across this damn river." Dogmeat brushed up against his leg and gave him a faint whuff and started trotting down the river bank along the road.
Jack followed slowly, Sam rolled her eyes. "We're following the damn dog now?" Jack shrugged.
"Hey he lives here, we're just tourists. Besides I trust his nose over mine." He added and jogged as the dog put a bit of speed on and seemed to be snuffling along looking for something. It turns out apparently the Dog was aware of an alternative route.
"Hell no!" Preston replied staring at what the dog had found.
Sam however was looking at the Pip-Boy again. "Okay, actually that's not the worst idea in the world." She admitted giving the dog his damn due, Jack glanced at Preston who was shaking his head like it really was that bad an idea, as he gripped his rifle tightly. The man wasn't exactly scared of much so Jack gave it due consideration.
"Okay… I'll say this once 'cause I like you both, but no way, no how is the subway a better option." Preston told them frankly, looking more than a little nervous at the prospect.
"Jack it goes for miles," Sam reasoned, "Straight under the river, under the entire town, hell we could travel all the way to Diamond City that way. It would cut down on our time significantly if we don't have to keep going around everything." She reasoned holding out her arm to show him the subway route beneath the outskirts of Boston central, heading in towards Diamond City. It was certainly more direct.
"Yeah… so we avoid nasties up here and what nasties are we looking at down there?" Jack asked looking to Preston for answers.
"Ghouls… rotted ones, maybe even glowing ones. Molerats probably. This close to the crater could even be some Radscorpions burrowed in deep down there… big ones." Preston replied sharply. Clearly it was nuts.
"Your not leaving me a lot of options here Preston." Jack pointed out and Preston closed his eyes slumping in clear defeat. Jack let out a huff.
"Look, we gotta go one way. Subway at least is going to be enclosed, I'm thinking funnels of directed fire in a confined space like that should work well, seems better than the prospect of taking on some organised para-military group with ordinance." He indicated the metal barricades and he was certain he could already hear the tell-tale whirring of turrets. God knows how many they had in there. He was good, but even he had his limits. Maybe if Sam had her Power Armour, but she'd left it in Sanctuary for safe keeping, that and its power requirements were enormous. She'd found a way to get more juice out those power cores they used, but it still took time they didn't have to charge, plus she suspected it was an older model suit, there was only so much she could do to modify it. Also… they'd both considered that maybe it wasn't the best impression to go making on a City full of people they didn't know to parade about in a walking tank when they were trying to re-establish the Minutemen as something more for the Community. After all, Sturgess had made it clear that Power Armour was pretty much affiliated with the Brotherhood of Steel, a bunch of military goons with what sounded a lot to Jack like pseudo-religious beliefs and an isolationist streak. Apparently, they were out to 'purify' the Wastes. Yeah, he wasn't so sure that was the best people to be emulating when trying to make friends and influence people.
"Right, executive decision, I'm the General… we're going in the damn subway."
"Great." Preston muttered and Jack wondered if one of the first things he might have to do with this new Minutemen militia was establish what exactly Chain of Command meant.
Sam came up behind him and slipped her hand along and up the back of his neck, he turned and she stood up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, her lips sliding along his jaw until she could nip at his earlobe.
"Yes Sir." She rasped and it was all kinds of wrong, that despite the fact that he was about to go into an old subway network that promised to be crawling with nasties, that he was half hard at the feel of her teeth on his skin as she rasped her favourite line. Damn it.
The subway at the surface level wasn't as bad as Sam had expected. Possibly because like Preston, most sane people tended to avoid it down here, although the stench of mould and rotting… well everything, combined with an unhealthy level of damp made her wish she didn't have to breathe quite so often. And stepping as she went was fresh hell, she didn't want to know what was underfoot as they made their way down the stairs into the red-lit gloom. Just seeing the abandoned benches, the vending machines, scattered burnt magazines and a dozen other things that reminded her that life had once teemed here.
"It's still got power." She admitted pleased, as she wasn't sure, even though she'd supported this idea, that she'd have held her nerve had it been pitch black down here. Not with molerats burrowing about, she hated those things, a rat was bad enough, but to have it become some giant burrowing disease spreading monstrosity was beyond awful.
"Yep… and that's the only bright side." Jack muttered close by her shoulder. She glanced up at him in the red lit gloom, more than grateful that he was here with her. God she couldn't imagine having to go through this alone… or with anyone else. Teal'c maybe, but the big J'affa would have undoubtedly struggled to provide her with the emotional support she needed to stay sane and motivated to get up in the morning. Daniel… well she was certain he'd have been killed before they even made it to Sanctuary, he'd gotten better with weapons but he didn't have the instinctive skillset and reaction times needed out here.
Then there was Jack… she reached out and found his hand for a moment, just because she could and gave it a squeeze, wanting to feel the solidness of him. He glanced at her questioningly, his 'you good?' in a single eyebrow raise. She nodded, not really feeling it and let go of his hand to hop the turnstile after Preston.
The moment her feet hit the ground the small impact tremor roused the sleeping ghouls, feral and rotted and hungry as hell. Jack landed beside her and as a three, with the Dog herding things into their line of fire they took out the first wave. Jack had been right, contained like this, their backs together, the groups were manageable. Terrifying though, her hand hadn't stopped shaking terror fuelling adrenalin which she was desperately using her training and 8 years on the front line to direct into something approaching battle ready.
They reached the bottom level, the stairways crawling as they made their slow but steady way down into the bowls of old civilisation. She tried not to see the signs that proclaimed about a life that would never be again. The adverts for dishwasher soap, the promotions for Mr Handy robots promising to 'revolutionise your household'. Nor did she want to especially acknowledge that the Dog was helpful, he was like an early warning system, and more than once he'd rebutted a ghoul or two that had gotten too close from all of them. But she didn't want the attachment or the damn responsibility of taking care of an animal out here. She could barely keep herself and Jack alive… his little run-in with the ghoul on the surface telling her as much, that one had gotten way too close, she knew because he'd downplayed it. He'd have bitched and moaned like a princess if it hadn't worried him.
One wave became two, then three. Just like every damn town they'd seemed to stumble across through the 'glowing sea' as Preston called it, ghouls seemed to be the only thing surviving this close to the crater. She wasn't sure which hurt worse, her arms from the strain of the big gun and the constant recoil, or her eyes… from peering through the gloom to find these monstrous things and seeing nothing of the human-beings they once were as they clawed for you.
Finally, they reached the train platform level. It seemed the ghouls had been driven up from this level by a particularly unpleasant mix of albino mole-rats and radroaches. Even Jack looked a little green as they blasted away.
"Hey." Preston called over to her as he wiped green gunk or whatever the radroach had spat at him, off his shirt gingerly with the end of an old newspaper, "Could be worse, could be radscorpions. Those buggers like to burrow deep and they don't mind the radiation."
Sam had the pleasure only once of encountering a radscorpion, back when it was just the two of them in Sanctuary and they still hadn't quite finished adapting to this world, not that she thought she was now, but she had toughened up. If she was honest she might have underestimated the beast, although how it was she'd come to do that she wasn't sure, the thing was an overgrown scorpion the size of a cow, with a stinger longer than her body and pincers that could cut a man clean in half. Fast and aggressive, not the type of thing you wanted to find in the vegetable patch in the middle of the night when you'd gone to take a leak, as Jack called it. Which was of course exactly how she'd found him. Dodging the pincers from the top of his own outhouse… the one time he hadn't taken the gun with him. She'd only got her 10mm, it had been a little bit like firing blanks at its thick exoskeleton; mostly it made a lot of noise and pissed it off. Jack had more success beating any part of it that moved towards him with his baseball bat from his precariously perched position.
Given as he'd looked like he was about to be skewered, she'd made the decision to distract it. She after all was on solid ground and had a lot of options that Jack, pinned to the outhouse, didn't. So, like an idiot, she'd made herself bait. It wasn't hard, she darted in front and shot it in the head. The bullet glanced off and she'd darted back, avoiding the stinger that landed an inch from her foot and sunk into the concrete. She and Jack had shared a look and she'd turned and hightailed it as fast as she could. The thing took the bait, but it was faster on its eight legs than she was on two, apparently as it scuttled after her at impossible speed. Much like escaping a dog, she'd found the big tree in the middle of town and launched herself up it with a kind of speed and agility that she was slightly annoyed no one would see. By that time Jack had retrieved the big Vault cryo gun he'd been saving for special occasions due to limited ammo, and had started taking pot shots trying to distract it from its meal ticket… namely her desperately clinging to the branches of a tree she feared it might actually be able to bring down with its pincer grip. He'd managed to get one clean shot on it eventually and she had to admit it had been fairly cool to see something freeze solid like that. She'd landed practically on the thing shattering it to pieces, it took a freeze ray to kill that last one… so she echoed Preston's sentiment, better some creepy molerats than another radscorpion.
Jack was looking about as unhappy as she was about the situation down here. "So, this place is nice." He groused. "Bit like hell coughed up the parts it didn't like and made a God damn nest!"
"I told you the subway was bad news." Preston grumbled. Jack shot him a look.
"Yeah… 'bad news'" Jack air quoted, "is for when you pranged the car… or ran out of blue raspberry jello." Jack all but growled at him. "This… is a god damn shit show down here!"
Sam rolled her eyes. She thought this might be Jack and Preston's first fight, the two of them had generally gotten on like a house on fire since that first day they met. It helped that they were both quite easy going. But apparently dark tunnels rotting away with monsters bought out the 'tetch' in them both.
"Will you two shut the hell up!" She snapped and glared soundly at them both. "We're down here. And yes it was a bad call. But we're here, my Pip-Boy has us only a few clicks out. I suggest we make a beeline for those damn train cars, climb through and try and make for an exit to the surface at the next station."
She shone the Pip-Boy light over at the train car and sighed as the light reflected back in a dozen or so cloudy eyes. Fuck. She reloaded her rifle.
"Train cars are crawling aren't they." Jack muttered sounding almost morbidly amused by that as he handed her a clip and she pocketed it glancing back at the red dots that even on her damn device looked angry at having been woken up.
"Yeah sure ya' betcha." She sighed, shouldering her rifle.
"Grenades still a bad idea down here?" He questioned his eyes on the sudden movement as rotting bodies started flowing out of the abandoned subway cars, she tracked the top exit whilst Jack had the bottom and Preston watched their rear. The Dog had parked itself at Jack's feet watching the tunnel to their left with a low growl that suggested they might have to deal with two flows of traffic shortly.
"Very bad idea." She replied, "Unless you want to be buried alive down here with those things. That is if the concussive shock doesn't kill us outright."
"Yeah, let's not do that." He replied and took aim. "Seriously though, this world sucks." He muttered and let rip with his semi-automatic rifle, she tried not to notice the way his eyes danced, she wondered if sometimes he enjoyed this world just a little too much. Wondered and worried as she turned and took aim herself, trying to keep it tight, clean and quick, headshot – move on, headshot – move on. Something grabbed at her and the dog tore it off, chest shot – headshot – move on. It was systematic, precise, god help her practiced. She wished she'd been this able that day in the woods. Granted there was no way this was the same situation, but she liked to think that if she were caught out like that again they might be able to save someone, anyone.
They managed to clear the platform and what she hoped was the last of the ones shuffling about down here and made it into the train cars and she rummaged around in suitcases and left behind belongings for anything of use. She found a medpak, some old magazines, a blue lunchbox with a silver spoon in it which she pocketed, but nothing much else of value. She didn't think anyone had been dumb enough to come down here since the bombs fell. A hand slid to her waist and she startled before realising it was Jack as his hand enclosed her gun hand for a moment and he leant in close to her, a kiss to her temple as an apology for surprising her. She assumed he'd meant to move past her, but now that he had her there trapped, she could feel the way his fingers trailed her hip, gripping on.
"Not far now Sam." He told her quietly, the unease in his tone belying how nervous being down here made him. She was almost relieved that he was feeling it too.
"Yeah because the surface will be so much better." She replied darkly.
"Hey, hey…" he spun her and gripped her face in his hands, "look at me." He insisted turning her head as she'd stared at his chest, rather than face his eyes.
"Sam." He urged and drew her head up to press a kiss to her forehead, then trailed a gentle path down to her lips, where he kissed her firmly. It had the desired effect, her blood pounded and her breath caught, they'd not had the chance to be together since that night a few days ago on the roof of Sanctuary. That night had been simultaneously the best and worst of her life, because she finally had Jack… and it had only taken the end of the world.
Leaving Sanctuary was starting to feel like a dumb plan, they'd been happy there for one shining moment, now… now she wasn't happy, she was struggling to feel anything other than despair, or a sweeping numbess. Sam hated the idea that somehow in her head Sanctuary was the closest thing to a feeling of home she suspected they might have out here. That's when it hit her, what this sick, numb feeling was, she was home sick. Not for Sanctuary though, but for their actual home, their world. It had only taken four months to feel that way, but she felt it now. The idea of a place where she didn't have to scavenge the dead, where train cars weren't filled with rotting monsters waiting for you to slip up, to be just that fraction too slow. Where groups of people weren't eaten alive in the woods and you didn't have to live in fear of raiders and… literally everyone else being out to get you.
Then Jack was kissing her again and that numbness pushed away for a moment as she felt whole and safe… home. Because here was the only memory she really had of his lips on hers, the feel of his calloused fingers holding her just that little too tight, as though afraid she'd disappear. He pulled back and stared hard at her, trying to will her to suck it up or something, and she closed her eyes, dropping her gaze to the lunchbox for a moment.
"I don't like it out here." She confessed. "Sanctuary, it wasn't much, but…"
"I know." He soothed, his hand tracing a pattern up her spine and she knew he did understand. "We've not had the easiest ride so far. But I'm thinking that's why this place needs us… you know, 'to be all we can be'." He smiled tightly. "It'll be better in the City."
"You don't know that."
"No. But I have faith." He replied firmly.
"Not hope?" She queried and he frowned, knowing the issues she'd had with regards to 'hope' and how tangled that emotion had gotten.
"There's always room for a little bit of hope Sam." He reminded her. "Snowballs, remember."
Sam smiled and looked away. "Did you ever see us ending up like this… I mean look where we are?" She pointed to the dark dingy subway car, broken, ruined complete with the skeletons of the people that had once had lives, loves, hopes too.
"I know." He replied again, letting out a sigh, but he didn't actually look she noted. Maybe that was how he did it, how he kept his composure, kept his optimism, maybe it was as simple as 'not looking'.
Sam nodded and sniffed, surprised that she was pressing close to the verge of tears. Jack looked a little disconcerted at seeing the tears in her eyes when she lifted her head.
"I knew the Wasteland would be bad Jack… I just, its so bleak. I mean I just want to scream and cry and rage at it all." She admitted, and a few tears fell as she hastily wiped them away. Mama Murphy was right, the world was too hard for tears now and once she broke that dam, she might never stop.
"Sam, you got to believe me, this is why we're here. To put a bit of that snowballs chance back into this world. Its not perfect, but its better than watching it all just rot away." He confessed as he reached out and brushed her cheek with his thumb, his eyes gentle for a moment as he opened his arms and she gratefully accepted the hug for a moment. She half expected Preston to stick his head in the train car and tell them hugging in the crawling subways, was as inappropriate as dancing in the road… but she didn't much care. The Dog was at the doorway, lying down eyes front, ears flat. That was a good enough indication that they were safe for the moment.
"I'll find a way to make it better Sam, I promise, please just keep going yeah. One foot and all that." He asked gently stroking her back and she nodded swallowing down the emotion to some time more appropriate… which was looking like never.
"Take each day as it comes?" She quipped up at him. "How cliché."
"I don't know, maybe cliché's are growing on me." He muttered slinging an arm around her shoulder and moving her away from whatever it was he thought had set her off and back towards the front. They had to get to the surface still yet after all and he wanted her head in the game. She recognised his tactic, distract with humour and self-depreciating, 'stick it to the man' irreverence.
"I think that sentence was a cliché in itself Jack." She sighed, lacing her fingers with his and letting her head rest on his shoulder for just a moment.
"See, told ya." He smiled gently and she returned it, even if she didn't feel it, he was probably feeling as broken about all this as she was, she knew he was just better at hiding it.
Maybe that's how they'd do this – get by, they'd be strong for each other, God knows they'd done it before. She just hoped she had enough strength left not to let him down.