3
Come the dawn and Patience found Sierra scrubbing the raider's blood from the wall of the shack. Using a brush with few bristles, the woman didn't seem to notice that Patience had awoken, moving the brush around in furious circles.
"Ronald will have a fright if he sees this." She mumbled to herself, blowing her hair from her face from the corner of her mouth. "And then I have to make sure the exhibits are in order. So much to do. So much to do."
Patience pitied the young woman. It was clear that she was no longer in a rational state. Not knowing if it was because of the loss of her friend or from the trauma of the day before, Patience felt in a quandary. If she stayed here alone, she wouldn't last long. The raiders knew she was alone, that was why they had invaded her home. If one set of raiders knew, it was probable that others did too.
"Your friend, Ronald. He's dead. He's not coming back." She crouched beside Sierra, stopping her scrubbing. It was harsh to say it like this, but the woman needed to hear it. "If you don't leave this place, you'll end up dead too."
"Ronald went looking for Nuka-Cola Quantum for me." Distant eyes bored into Patience's own eyes. "He'll be back before long."
"He's dead! Understand? Dead!" She tried to stop herself snapping at the poor woman, but she couldn't help herself.
"It's no use. I've told her so many times." Valrie reentered the shack, closing the door behind her. "Trust me, her head's gone. Maybe she'll snap out of it one day. I hope I can get her to move East. Tried forcing her once, but she just up and ran back here first chance she got."
"We should take her with us. Drag her, tie her, if we have to." She saw Valrie shake her head.
"Bodies are gone. The brahmin's been eaten." Valrie changed the subject and tossed the bag of bottle caps, that Patience had found on the body of the raider, on the table. "You missed these. Must be thirty, forty caps in there."
"I didn't think they were worth anything." It was clear the subject of taking Sierra with them was now closed.
"Not worth anything? Everything's worth something! You can't buy things without caps." Valrie tipped out the contents of the bag and began counting.
"These are what you use for money?" Patience picked up a cap, turning it over, examining the faded symbol printed upon it.
"What else are we going to use?" She lost count, sighing, and started again. "Out west, I heard they use paper. Paper! Hell, I could write on a piece of paper and try to buy things. I'd get laughed out of town, but I could try."
Patience dropped the bottle cap back on the table, much to the consternation of Valrie, who started her count once again. Looping the strap of the rifle over her head and shoulder, she looked at Sierra once more, still scrubbing at blood that she had already cleaned away. Picking up the snub .38, she crouched once more beside the woman lost in her own mind.
"Here. In case you need it. Just pull the hammer back and pull the trigger. It's easy. Shoot first, worry about who you're shooting at later." She took Sierra's hand and pressed the .38 into her palm. Sierra looked at the gun, not seeming to understand what it was. "Just ... just in case. Okay?"
"I could get twenty caps for that and you're just giving it away." The football helmet wobbled as she shook her head.
"She needs it more than we do." Standing, she watched Valrie finish counting the bottle caps, squirrelling the pouch away in one of her myriad pockets. "So, where next?"
"I already radioed ahead to my place." She pointed towards a battered short wave radio, hidden under detritus, in the corner. "Don't worry, it's on the way. I'm not leading you on a wild Bloat Fly chase."
"Didn't say you were." Despite her fresh received new name, she found she didn't hold much patience after all.
There was little she could do about it, though. She was, for now, a stranger in a strange land until such time as her memory returned. Valrie seemed honest enough and she had saved her life. There seemed little point for the woman to betray her. Patience had no belongings of value, other than her pistol and Valrie could have taken that at any time while she was unconscious.
Patience's gut instinct was that she could trust Valrie. At least for the moment. And, as Valrie crouched down beside Sierra, brushing the poor woman's hair from her face and smiling with a hint of sadness, Patience could see a kindness to the woman. The sort of kindness that Patience expected was rare among the dog-eat-dog world she now found herself in.
Valrie kissed Sierra on the forehead and smoothed her hair one more time before standing up.
"I'll be back in a few days, honey. Stay safe, you hear?" Valrie's smile faded as Sierra returned to her scrubbing, saying nothing. Sighing, she turned for the door, only stopping to bend over and grab a bottle of Nuka-Hol from under the counter. She saw Patience's silent question. "She won't mind. And besides, I doubt she'd notice it's gone. Or us, for that matter."
Patience followed Valrie out into the discoloured haze of sunlight. Valrie turned east but, before setting off, she cocked her head to the side and turned back to Patience, lifting the arm with the Pip-Boy on it. Patience watched as the woman scrolled through the options, clicking on 'Radio', scrolling down and selecting a station. Music crackled and scratched from the gadget on Patience's arm.
"Radio works, if nothing else." Adjusting her helmet, rolling her shoulders, Valrie winked as she turned east and started walking.
Patience couldn't help but laugh at the woman. Resting an arm on the assault rifle, slung diagonal across her chest, she followed Valrie, walking in parallel with the broken down freeway, heading towards the sun rising over the horizon. A nauseating yellow, broken and wavering in the filthy air.
The going was difficult, following the direction of the devastated freeway. Crossing broken ground, clambering over pieces of the roadway that appeared to have crashed down revealing the crushed stone concrete and twisted steel rebars that had, at one time, given strength to the construction. Each mile should have taken only twenty minutes, at most, at a steady pace, but now stretched into an hour or more.
Several times, Valrie stopped Patience, indicating they should hide and move with stealth in a short detour. She pointed at creatures, snuffling around in the dirt, digging, almost frantic. Hairless creatures with baggy skin and protruding teeth.
"Mole rats. Tenacious little shits. Killed easy, but why waste bullets?" Valrie explained, grimacing and spitting in the direction of the creatures.
A little further on, Valrie spat out a curse and forced a much wider detour.
"Goddamn Bloat Flies! Nasty fucking things." Ducking, almost crawling from hiding place to hiding place, Valrie led the way past. "Those things'll spit poison all over you, sting you and lay their eggs in you. In that order, if you're lucky."
Patience could feel her heart rate rising and falling at every encounter. She found herself carrying her rifle at the ready all the time now. Eyes in a constant search of their surroundings, checking every crevice, every stack of rocks, every broken and twisted vehicle.
"This place is a fucking nightmare!" She hissed a whisper to Valrie as they leaned against a rock avoiding more Mole Rats. "Is there anything that doesn't want to kill you?"
"Nope. Everything living wants you dead. Everything not living is like to kill you in different ways." Valrie adjusted her helmet and made a fast, furtive glance around the rock. "And this shit ain't the worst. Yao Guai will rip you up and eat you, raiders'll shoot you, rob you and maybe even fuck you. Dead or alive, male or female, don't matter. Super Mutants will beat the shit out of you and try to turn you into one of them. Or just shoot you. And Deathclaws? Those fuckers are the worst of the lot of them."
"Like I said, a fucking nightmare." Patience wished that she hadn't woken up in this world. She considered it might have been better if she'd died before Valrie found her. At least it would have been a merciful death. "How much further to your place?"
"Not far, but I've just seen something interesting." Valrie grabbed Patience, leaning her around the rock and pointing down a slope to south-east. An old truck and trailer sat in the middle of the waste. A vehicle without a road. "That's a raider hideout. Usually always has a spotter on the roof, but there's not been any movement down there at all."
"We can hide from the Mole Rats and Bloat Flies there?" Valrie was right, there wasn't any movement near the truck.
"Hide? No. That's an old military truck." Valrie grinned as she prepared to make run for the truck. "Been wanting to scav that thing for years."
"You damned, crazy old ..." Protests fell on deaf ears as Valrie took one last look and made a desperate run towards the truck. Patience took another look herself and then followed the older woman, chasing the flapping coat and bobbing helmet.
It was, indeed, an old army truck. The skeletal remains of the driver still sat in the cab, bony fingers still attached to the wheel. Valrie bypassed the cab, running to the rear, and made several quick glances around the back. Satisfied, she slipped around the edge, out of sight from Patience.
Patience took a more slow, methodical approach. Hefting her rifle, she used it to point at the places she examined. Sweeping the muzzle around, checking under the truck, their immediate surroundings. Moving around the back of the truck, she four-cornered the whole space, despite Valrie already rummaging inside the trailer. Something in Patience's mind, something trained, told her to check everything herself, no matter what others were doing.
Inside the trailer looked like someone, or several someones, had suffered something terrible. Blood spray patterns covered the sides and the floor. Upon closer inspection, Patience could see numerous bullet holes in the trailer's sides, sunlight coursing in thin bars through them. Whoever had died here had not stayed here. No bodies, not even pieces, anywhere in the trailer.
Valrie tossed something and Patience caught it without thinking. An old military back pack, dust covered but still intact.
"That rifle? 5.56 right?" Noting Patience's nod, Valrie slapped four magazines to the side. She then pointed at Patience's sidearm. "That nine mil'?"
"Yeah. I think." To make sure, she drew the pistol, popped the magazine and looked before returning the mag back in the gun and the gun to the holster. "Yeah, nine mil'."
"Those are yours." Valrie dropped three cartridge boxes and two empty magazines next to the boxes, spreading her fingers above the lot to make her point. "Everything else is mine."
Valrie had found another back pack and started squirrelling away everything she could find into it. More cartridge boxes, magazines, pieces of broken machinery, some kind of inhaler, two or three hand guns. Everything. Even a half-drunk bottle of whiskey got added to the bag, after a quick slug and a wiped mouth. She even stuffed in Patience's jump suit, retrieved from wherever it was that she had managed to place it within her voluminous coat.
Patience, for her part, picked up the magazines, checking their condition and of the bullets inside. She stuffed them into her new pack, alongside the 9mm cartridge boxes and empty mags, and spun the pack onto her back, tightening the straps to keep the pack secure.
"Now, let's get the fuck out of here before someone comes looking for these raiders and thinks we killed them." Valrie slung her pack over one shoulder, stepped to the edge of the trailer and scanned their surroundings before jumping down. "Best hot foot to my place, Wintergreen'll be having kittens if we don't arrive soon."
Patience dropped down from the trailer after Valrie and made another sweep of the area with the muzzle of her rifle. Seeing nothing, she relaxed a little, letting the rifle rest across her body, her finger remaining near the trigger guard. To be safe.
She only hoped they reached Valrie's place soon. This constant feeling, the tense, on-edge feeling she had since waking up with Valrie beside her, was starting to take its toll. She could feel a headache coming on and she got the feeling that it wouldn't get any better until she found somewhere to rest and relax. If such a place existed anymore.
"You're listening to the adventures of me, Herbert "Daring" Dashwood, and my stalwart ghoul manservant, Argyle. Today's episode: There Ain't Nothing Like A Dame."
"Well, Argyle, my most trusted friend, one more brandy before bed?"
"You know I don't drink, boss."
"You don't know what you're missing, old chum."
"Hey, boss, we got company. Phew, and she's a looker!"
"Mister Dashwood and ... friend. My name is Constance Dérobé and I need your help."
"Let it never be said that I, Daring Dashwood, would ignore a damsel in distress. How may we help, madam?"
"My husband, Albert, is a doctor. A nukula scientist. He hasn't returned from his lab in days and I'm worried something terrible has happened. Could you investigate for me. I would be very ... appreciative."
"Nuclear. The word is nuclear."
"Now, now, Argyle. The lady is married to a scientist. I'm sure she knows the correct words."
"Whatever you say, boss."
"Now, madam, we don't normally take cases like this, but we'll make an exception. For you. Where is your husband's lab?"
"Someplace called Old Olney. I'm not sure why he worked there, though."
"Old Olney! That's Deathclaw territory!"
"I'm sure we'll be fine. Better pack the big guns, though, just in case."
"Not ... the Deva-Strafer?"
"The one and only! Worry not, madam, Daring Dashwood and his implacable companion, Argyle are on the case!"
"Jeez. One day a dame'll be the death of us, boss."
"But what a way to go, Argyle. What a way to go."
"Be sure and tune in next time for another exciting adventure of me, Herbert "Daring" Dashwood and my stalwart ghoul manservant Argyle!"
Despite what Valrie said about the building being hers, the sign on the side proclaimed it as "Jocko's Pop and Gas Stop". A squat, square building that had, at one time, sold roadside nik-naks for people veering from the highway, it now had a hasty constructed side building made from various eclectic items. Not least of which appeared to be an advertising hoarding sawed, in a haphazard fashion, through the face of a cheery looking woman popping some kind of pill into her mouth.
"Wintergreen!" Valrie called as she reached the door, before pounding upon it without allowing whoever occupied the building time to answer. "Wintergreen! Open the damned door!"
Silence greeted them and Patience took the opportunity to perform quick glances around the corners of the building. Satisfied, she returned to Valrie as the older woman continued pounding on the door, which remained closed. Stoic and resolute.
"Nobody home?" She smiled as Valrie gave her a stern glance accompanied by a 'tut'.
"No. He's home. He's just too damned old. Losing his hearing." Valrie began repeated kicks against the door. "It's Valrie. Open the god damned door, you piece of god damned shit!"
They soon found themselves greeted by the sound of several locks opening and bolts sliding back and, after a while, the door opened. A crack at first and then wider as a metal eye popped out, whirring and clicking as it looked at them both.
"Why, Miss Valrie, it is so good to see you again." The door opened wide and a Mister Handy robot hovered into view. "Won't you please come in?"
"Of course I'll come in, you god damned rusted piece of shit. It's my fucking place!" Wasting no time, Valrie brushed past the robot, into the building.
"And who is your lovely companion?" Wintergreen, the Mister Handy bot, hovered to the side allowing Patience to enter. "If I had known you would be bringing company, I would have set to places for dinner, Miss Valrie."
"I did tell you! I radioed ahead last night, you dumb bucket of bolts!" Valrie had disappeared into another room, but her voice rang out clear and loud throughout the building. "My 'companion' is called Patience. Don't bother remembering it, we won't be staying long."
Wintergreen spun around and extended a clawed 'hand'.
"Welcome, Miss Patience. Will you be staying long?" Patience grasped the claw with a tentative hand and shook it. "May I take your coat and hat?"
"I don't have a coat or hat." She let the claw go and shimmied aside, navigating herself around the rusted, damaged and many times repaired robot.
"Would you like a coat or hat?" Wintergreen closed the door to the building and started turning the many locks and sliding the many bolts home. Only one of his three 'eyes' remained upon her, unblinking in its scrutiny. "We have refreshments, beverages, snacks and Schedule-1 drugs for your consumption."
Patience ignored the strange robot and made a cursory examination of the room. It appeared to be the front shop area. Shelves, filled with a vast assortment of things, half of which she had no idea what they were. Old chest refrigerators, that might once have held ice cream or other products, filled to overloading with other items. Almost every space had something to fill it.
"What the hell are you waiting out there for?" Valrie's voice echoed from the other room. "Come on in. Leave the damned robot out there. And don't accept any offers of drugs from him!"
Patience took one last glance at the shop and another, wary, glance at the robot and passed through the door to join Valrie. Wintergreen hovered, almost in silence, save for his engine, watching her as she moved.
She found Valrie packing the weapons and ammunition, she had found, into a heavy, metal gun cabinet. Finished, she closed the cabinet door, locking it with several padlocks of various sizes. Stuffing the keys in a pocket, she took a swig from the half-empty bottle of whiskey she had found.
"That's a strange robot you have there." Patience looked over her shoulder to see one of Wintergreen's eyes looking around the door frame. "It seems a little ..."
"Fucked up?" Valrie collapsed into a chair. She rummaged through several pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting two and holding out the other for Patience. "Found him wandering around out in the Wasteland. Moira fixed him up best she could, but he's always been a bit ... wired. You know?"
"Yeah. I know." She took a drag of the cigarette and looked over her shoulder again. The eye no longer watched her.
"Speaking of Moira, I radioed ahead and she's expecting us tomorrow." Valrie flicked ash into a nearby coffee mug. "She's real excited about getting her hands on that Pip-Boy. For research. Moira's a good kid. Never steals nothing from nobody."
"So, we're setting off now?" She found it ironic that the name Valrie called her was 'Patience'. It appeared she had little of that virtue.
"Plenty of time for that. I reckon we should relax for tonight. Get some food inside us and some rest. Wintergreen!" She dropped the half-smoked cigarette into the coffee mug. "God damn it. Wintergreen! Make something to eat! Wintergreen!"
Patience rolled her eyes. From what Valrie had told her, Megaton wasn't that far away but, by the time they arrived there, it would be three days since they set out.
Things seemed to move slow in the Capital Wasteland. Except when they didn't.