Raiders of the Lost Brothel
Sarah settled quickly into life at Jacqueline "Jack" "Call Me By My Surname and I'll Kill You" Paddywack's brothel house, and within a day even knew what a brothel house was. Whenever the noises started up Sarah moved to a different floor, her face burning. She kept away from the customers completely, lurking in the shadows or dipping into empty rooms to avoid another beating. The teetering building was riddled with nooks and crannies, and she scurried through them like a rad rat.
Jack was always one step behind her, her sharp eyes never missing a patch of dirt that needed attention. Sarah became gratefully reacquainted with a dustpan and brush, happy that someone in Nuka World wanted to keep things clean and tidy. It was just a shame she had to do the cleaning and tidying.
The housework wasn't the worst of her situation, though. Being near Jack made Sarah's skin crawl, invisible insects burrowing below the surface, wriggling over every inch of her, feasting on her worries and fears.
Jack knew what it was to suffer as Sarah suffered. To hurt and bleed as Sarah did. She knew, but she served the same fate to others. The idea Sarah could escape only if she became something far worse terrified her.
She didn't want to be a killer.
Oswald played on her mind, becoming more and more than fleeting thought with every passing day. He solidified, a ghost rising from the dead, beckoning her to return. But no, she couldn't go back. Sarah knew he would be furious with her for leaving, would tell her to go away back to the slave camp. Her eyes pricked with tears when she thought of this, remembering Petey and Pansy and all the others. People like her, who lived without being murderers.
Jack seemed to notice her restlessness as the days passed, because she never left her alone, and deliberately locked all the windows and doors in whatever room Sarah was cleaning. By the time Sarah made up her mind, the brothel had become a prison. She was going to see Oswald and beg him to forgive her. She'd do anything he asked, only so long as he let her stay. The risk made her stomach turn, and if she was caught, then Gage might know where the other ghouls were and enslave them too. But she had to go. She couldn't be a raider.
Her chance presented itself on the fifth day. Jack was sitting on the nearby bed polishing her gun while Sarah scrubbed the floor. A sudden bang and a piercing scream made Jack jump to her feet, weapon raised, her face dark.
"Stay here," she said, sprinting out and slamming the door behind her. Sarah obeyed, frozen in her place, listening intently. Somewhere below the screams were getting louder. A few minutes later a new voice joined the fray, bellowing, and then a series of loud bangs cut the disturbance short.
Who won?
Unease crept through Sarah's skin like a feral in the dark. If Jack was dead, things were about to go from bad to worse. If Jack was alive, though, she would be back soon. Sarah glanced around the room. It was time to leave. She scrambled to her feet, ran to the door, and opened it carefully. There were footsteps down below, a lot of people running, and the sounds of more arguing. If she went down that way, she might be caught.
The doors to the other rooms on this floor were all open. Clearly the occupants had gone to see the show, but the sight of the beds inside gave Sarah an idea. She recalled a comic she'd read shortly before she left the Slog, where the Silver Shroud had tied bed sheets together to make his escape. Her knots weren't too bad, as she used to help Wiseman set up some of the equipment around the old settlement. Sarah ran from room to room, collecting sheets and dragging the entire bundle back down the corridor and closing the door carefully behind her.
She set to work, triple tying the knots, trying not to think of what would happen if they came undone. Sickening, crunching sounds played repeatedly inside her head as she secured each knot, and she kept her mouth firmly shut, her stomach churning.
Loud footsteps echoed from the staircase outside.
Sarah suppressed a gasp. It was now or never. She sprinted over to the door, tying her makeshift rope tight around the handle, and pushed a chair under for good measure. Keeping the sheet bundle over her shoulder, she picked up an old cracked statuette from a little bedside table, aimed for the window, and threw it with all her might.
The window broke with a deafening crash, and the footsteps turned into a thundering run. Sarah didn't wait to find out who was approaching. Trembling and trying not to look down, she climbed out onto the sill and dropped the bundle. Then she took hold of the sheets, drew a deep breath, and lowered herself into open air.
Immediately she began to slide. Her little arms couldn't hold her weight and her hands burned as she plummeted, swinging from side to side and screaming as she fell.
"What the fuck?"
A shockwave of pain ripped through her legs as she hit solid ground. Or, more accurately, she hit someone else who was on solid ground. Sarah caught a glimpse of a man clad in black toppling backwards over a railing, and then she was staring up at the sky, sprawled out on a balcony.
"Oh my God," whimpered a voice behind her. Sarah groaned and rolled over to see a man staring at her, half dressed and on his knees. He was sporting a black eye and a bloody lip and was almost crying with relief. He broke into a smile, revealing one of his teeth had recently been knocked out. "I thought he would kill me. Thank you. Thank you."
There was a violent banging outside the man's door—someone was hammering to get through. The man flinched until he heard Jack's voice bellowing from the other side, and he immediately relaxed.
"Eddie, you okay?" Jack roared, beating the door so hard it rattled on its hinges.
"Yeah, boss!" Eddie called back, slowly getting up and walking over to open it. "That kid just saved my bacon though—"
"The kid?"
Sarah had enough time to hear Jack swear before she swung her legs over the railings, grabbed the sheets again, and stepped off the balcony.
This time she was prepared and managed to hold on, turning her fall into a gentle descent. Her hands stung badly, her palms red and raw. She clenched them tight, allowing a hiss to escape between her teeth, and turned to see where Kiddie Kingdom might be. About a foot to her left lay the crumpled body of a raider. He was moaning in agony, but when he saw Sarah, his face twisted in hate.
"You little bitch," he spat, raising the gun in his hand and pointing it at her. "You fucking bitch. You—"
The front door of the brothel burst open behind Sarah and a deafening crack filled the air. The raider fell dead, his right eye a bloody mess.
Trembling from head to foot, Sarah turned around, knowing exactly what she'd see.
Jack was standing in the doorway of her home, panting and sweating, her own smoking weapon pointed at the dead man on the ground. She waited for a few seconds, and when he didn't move, holstered the gun and wiped her forehead. "You alright, kid?"
Sarah's mouth fell open.
Jack frowned. "What?"
Sarah inched back, wondering if she could still make a break for it, but Jack stepped with her, her frown turning into a scowl as she towered over her. "Don't fucking move." She strode forward, grabbed Sarah by the arm, and dragged her back inside the brothel.
As they walked through the gloomy corridors together, Jack's fingers digging hard into her flesh, she saw Jack's...workers picking up raider bodies and dumping them out windows or throwing them carelessly out the front door.
"Won't that scare people off?" Sarah whispered, her eyes fixed to the floor.
"No." Jack's voice was curt and clipped. "We'll dispose of the bodies later, save us getting any shit from the gangs. But if anyone spots them, there's no proof we killed them, and no one will look into it too hard. Everyone wants to get laid, and we're the best. But they do it on our terms, or they die."
Sarah wondered why Jack kept saying 'we' when the place was clearly run by her, but decided not to comment on it. She was wondering if it was her turn to be shot and thrown out of the window.
It was a great surprise when Jack took her back to Eddie's room and sat her on the bed. Eddie was mopping up his bloody face and beamed when he saw them.
"Watch her," Jack said, and left without another word.
Sarah half considered running to the balcony again, but her escape rope had already been taken down and was nowhere in sight. Eddie must have noticed where she was looking, because he chuckled and said, "Boss is on to you, kid. You ain't goin' anywhere tonight."
Sarah swung her aching legs, staring fixedly at her knees. Finally she said, "Will she kill me?" She looked up, searching Eddie's face for the truth.
Eddie blinked blankly at her for a few seconds and then said, "Kill you?"
His surprise threw her, and before she could ask a follow up question, Sarah heard a crowd of people heading up the stairs and towards the room. Seconds later they were all filing inside, sitting on chairs, desks, window sills, and even the floor. Jack brought up the rear of the procession, looking slightly less murderous than before. She waited until everyone settled, then shut the door with a loud snap. Everyone fell silent.
Jack's eyes roamed the room, studying every face before her, lingering on Sarah. Then she directed the congregation at large. "Are we all good? No injuries I need to know about?"
The group shook their heads. Sarah noticed some of them had cuts across their cheeks, busted noses, and marked faces. Whatever had happened, they'd managed to get through with only a few scrapes and bruises.
Jack sighed and smiled. "Good." She turned to Sarah, her expression serious. "Right. You. Why did you try to run?"
The sudden change of tone and topic caught Sarah off guard, and she could only mouth wordlessly, her cheeks burning.
Jack's eyes narrowed. "We've treated you fair. You haven't been hurt, overworked, or starved. You were placed in my care and I've tried my best to keep you safe. So if something has happened, I need to know about it now."
Sarah shut her mouth and swallowed nervously, but Jack's steely gaze didn't falter. She could lie, say the commotion was the cause. But somehow it didn't feel right. Sarah closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Then she opened them and said, "I remember what you said. One day I'd have to kill my way to the top. I don't want to be like that. I don't want to be a raider."
Whatever answer Jack was expecting, it clearly wasn't that. She stared at Sarah for a few seconds and said, "Who said you had to be a raider?"
"You did. When we...when we talked the other day." Sarah wasn't sure if the others knew about Jack's past, and she didn't want to bring it up in front of them.
Jack smiled, noticing her carefully chosen words. "You can talk freely in front of my people. We all share a similar brand of fucked up." Laughter rippled throughout the room and Sarah felt herself relax a little. Jack went on, "It's true you'll probably have to fight for your freedom. But that doesn't mean you have to be a raider. I chose this life."
"But why?" Sarah said, unable to hide her desperation. "Why would you do this to other people?" She looked at the people sat around her. "And why would you let her?"
"Begging your pardon, little miss," said an older woman with a voice like a creaking gate, "but what the fuck are you on about?"
Sarah flinched.
Jack studied her for a while in silence and then said, "They aren't slaves, Sarah."
"But the sign outside—?"
"It's called lying, kid. What the customers don't know won't hurt them. I became a raider so no one could ever control me again. But I started a brothel to drive a wedge in raider-run whore houses, where a good chunk of slaves end up." She waved her hand idly towards the group. "Look at them, Sarah. No slave collars."
Sarah scanned the crowd from face to smiling face. All of their necks were missing the metal collar clamped firmly around hers.
"We work here because we want to," said Eddie, whose lip had finally stopped bleeding. "It's safer than the other brothels. Jack makes sure of it."
This was true. A lot of bodies had been thrown out of the windows earlier.
"And we can leave whenever we want," the creaky-voiced woman added. "Jack would never stop us."
"I don't think I could stop you, Ethel," Jack chipped in with a twinkle in her eye. Ethel cackled, slapping her knee.
"And we get paid!" someone else chirped up from the back.
There was a murmur of agreement.
"And some of us just like sex," drawled a lanky woman sat sprawled on the floor in front of Jack. Jack nudged her playfully with her boot.
"I will never take part in slavery," Jack said, though her face was pale, her eyes flitting around the room, not quite managing to land on Sarah. Then Jack looked her full in the face, her jaw set. "I hated being a slave, but I relished my claim to freedom. I...I can't say whether or not it was worth it." Her eyes dropped momentarily to the floor. "What I can say it gave me the tools to carve out my place in the world, for better or for worse." She shrugged her shoulders. "Just because someone says you're bad doesn't mean you have to be. Take that however you want."
Sarah thought this all sounded like nonsense, but at the very least it settled her. Jack wouldn't hurt her. And maybe if she found a way to escape soon, she wouldn't end up crazy like Jack either.
A loud crash from downstairs made everyone jump.
Jack pulled out her gun. "Everyone to their rooms. We're taking no more clients tonight. I'll ring the bell when I'm done." She marched away without a backwards glance. No one else seemed particularly concerned, and chatter broke out as they all slowly got to their feet and ambled into the corridor.
Sarah followed them, glancing at the stairwell and biting her lip. Despite herself, she wanted to see what was going on. None of them were paying her any attention, and so she slipped away from the crowd and quickly made her way to the ground floor. As she drew towards the entrance parlor she heard raucous laughter and familiar voices. Her suspicions were confirmed a second later.
"Gage, what the hell have you taken?"
Jack's question was answered with a snort. Sarah popped her head around the door to find Gage and Mrs. Bossanova standing with their arms thrown casually around each other's shoulders.
Perhaps standing was too strong a word. They sagged inwards, legs trembling, swaying on the spot, their heads lolling and their unfocused eyes rolling alarmingly in their sockets. Their pasty skin was drenched with sweat and they only seemed capable of giggling. Even from this distance Sarah could see their lips were tinged blue.
"Gage," Jack snarled, grabbing hold of him and giving him a little shake, "what happened?"
"Bottling...Plant…" Gage said weakly, a wide, stupid grin on his face. It didn't suit him. "Swallowed...water…"
"You swallowed the water?" Jack stared incredulously at him. "Wait...you mean the Quantum river?"
"Fell in," gurgled Mrs. Bossanova, staring at a spot a good foot over Jack's head. "Fell…" She sniggered and the pair of them dissolved into wild laughter. Jack sighed. She turned and reached out for a tarnished silver bell hanging on the wall, pulling the cord three times. It clanged loudly, setting Mrs. Bossanova and Gage off again, and a few minutes later Eddie and Ethel appeared.
"Take her to the second floor," Jack said, pointing at Mrs. Bossanova. She suddenly noticed Sarah and motioned to her. "Help me with Gage, kid."
Sarah obeyed, and all four of them managed to peel Gage and Mrs. Bossanova apart. Ethel and Eddie turned off at their stop on the staircase, but Jack and Sarah continued on, all the way to the top of the building. Sarah realised they were in Jack's private quarters. It was very clean, but also very cluttered, all of Jack's worldly possessions scattered about the room as if she couldn't bear to throw anything she owned away.
With some difficulty they managed to dump Gage on the bed. Jack stripped him of his armour, moving the pieces to a corner of the room and fussed over him. She nodded to Sarah. "Thanks for the help. I can manage him from here." She smiled, and Sarah returned it before starting to leave.
However, she stopped as she reached the doorway, tucking herself just out of sight and watching. Jack bent over Gage, pressing a hand to his forehead. He was in a terrible state—still giggling weakly, splayed out on the bed, and Sarah wondered how he'd managed to make it back alive. The whole thing reminded her of her dad after mom left. For the first week or so he'd just stayed in bed, surrounded by empty bottles and funny red inhalers.
This was less scary, but still...weird.
Jack kneeled down, staring into Gage's unfocused eyes, wearing an odd expression. He was mirroring her, his mouth a soft smile, every harsh, hateful line in his weathered face smoothed away. Gage reached out clumsily, resting the palm of his hand gently against her cheek.
"I would do fucking anything for you," he slurred, his head lolling to the side.
Jack didn't reply, but leaned into his hand, closing her eyes. Then she moved forward and kissed him tenderly.
Sarah left them to it, feeling she was intruding. It was extremely uncomfortable to see Gage so placid. The dirty, rude, murdering raider looking at Jack like she was the sweetest Dandy Apple in the box. The way her dad had once looked at her mom.
She had always assumed Gage was nasty to everyone except Mrs. Bossanova because she was his boss. The idea he was just a horrible person made his insults sting less, and yet there he was, being nice to someone else.
Sarah swallowed her misery, trying not to care. Maybe it was just her. Maybe she was just unlikeable.
Sighing, she made her way heavily down the stairs, pausing at Mrs. Bossanova's room. She was lying flat on her back, waving her arms lazily above her head. A snicker escaped Sarah's lips, but the old ghoul lady didn't seem to notice, instead starting to loudly hum to herself.
Sarah had a sudden idea. She edged into the room and sidled over to Mrs. Bossanova, catching her attention. If she could get her to agree—if this worked…
"Hel- looo," slurred Mrs. Bossanova, grinning up lopsidedly at her. "How are you?"
"Fine," Sarah replied. She hesitated, rocking on her feet. "Mrs. Bossanova?"
"Ye-ee-ee-ess?" the older ghoul replied, somehow managing to stretch the word into four syllables.
"You found me near Kiddie Kingdom, right?" She giggled in response. Sarah took this to also mean 'yes.' She pressed on. "Then you must have met Oswald."
Mrs. Bossanova went rigid, her hands dropping heavily to her sides. Her face took a waxen quality and she stared up at Sarah fixedly, apparently hanging on her every word.
Sarah hesitated, confused. Was this the water's fault or something else? She decided to continue. "Well, he's my friend and he was very nice to me. I think you'd like him too. He's a ghoul and he likes other ghouls. You could be his friend too."
Mrs. Bossanova still didn't speak.
"I...I want to go see him." She paused, but no answer came. Sarah started to feel nervous. "Please?"
"No," Mrs. Bossanova said abruptly.
Sarah felt her stomach contract. "Why...why not?"
"Because…" Mrs. Bossanova seemed to struggle with herself before blurting out, "because he's gone." She looked upset now, confusing Sarah even more.
"What do you mean he's gone?"
"Gone," repeated Mrs. Bossanova, who was no longer meeting Sarah's gaze. "Gone gone gone," she continued to mutter, covering her eyes with the crook of her elbow. "Gone gone gone…"
Sarah stepped away, her unease mounting. She'd never seen Mrs. Bossanova like this before. It had to be the 'Quantum' she'd drank, whatever that was. A second later Mrs. Bossanova's face slackened and she let out a rumbling snore.
This all feels wrong, Sarah thought as she left the room and headed back to her own. I just don't know what.
Hopefully Mrs. Bossanova would be better tomorrow. Sarah had lots of questions for her.
A/N: I've completed NaNo and now I can get back to my regularly scheduled bullshit.
Have three chapters, because I'll be away Saturday and unable to update.