Revelations
Jack.
It all came down to Jack. What she was planning. And who she was planning with.
Sarah sat in contemplation as she pushed pieces of tato through the gaps in the fence for Buttercup to eat. Things were slowly improving for her. The other traders were finally treating her like their own again, and the only raiders to lay down beatings these days were the Disciples and the Pack. Sure, the Operators still gave a few digs now and then, but since they'd moved out to their new territories, their mood had softened considerably.
But then there was the problem of Jack. Sarah couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong, at what else was going on. Why was she rubbing shoulders with Nisha, when she'd said she was here to free the slaves? Because aside from herself, who else had actually been freed?
Sarah screwed her eyes shut, shivering. The screams of the murdered man lingered with her, echoing in her head. She couldn't push his face from her mind, contorted in agony. She wondered who he'd been: raider or trader? Or someone else, just picked up from the wastes? Sarah hadn't noticed any collar on him, but then again, she hadn't looked close. The blood and the looseness of his skin had been too much of a distraction.
Sarah glanced at the soft, juicy tato pieces in her hand, and felt a wave of nausea. She shoved the lot through the gaps, retching, and stumbled to her feet.
Nisha's methods were cruelty beyond anything Sarah had ever seen, even amongst the other raiders in Nuka World and the Commonwealth. The bodies lining the walls of Fizztop Mountain. The blood and the rot and the stink. The screams rang loud in her head, louder than ever before, and suddenly the packed heat and babbling people were too much. Sarah pushed past Mr. Corbett, his usual list ready in hand, and rushed for the marketplace door.
The air was a little cooler in the open streets, and after a minute of gulping it down, her stomach settled. It gurgled in protest, and Sarah clamped a hand to it, sighing. Whenever she tried to eat or sleep, she saw the unknown man's twisted face, accompanied by a wet, ripping noise.
How could Jack bear to work with such a woman?
Ask her, said a demanding voice in her head. Sarah straightened up, frowning. Just ask? Just like that? But what if Jack turned on her, tried to kill her? But then again, she'd risked her own life to hold Sarah when she thought her collar malfunctioned. Maybe she'd be willing to talk, to explain a few things to her.
Sarah turned to the gates of Nuka Town, making up her mind. It was time to go see Jack.
Her stomach dropped the moment she entered the brothel. Four heads turned as she crossed the threshold, and three of them belonged to Disciples. A chill passed through her as she looked into those eyeless faces, before her attention snapped towards the sound of Jack's voice.
"Sarah?" Jack edged around the Disciples, hurriedly pasting a smile onto her nervous face. "Get upstairs and help the others clean. Go on." She pointed to a nearby door. Sarah studied her, noting how tense she looked. If she didn't know better, she'd say Jack was trying desperately to get her out of the way.
"Don't know why you're bothering being nice to the fresh meat, Jack," one of the Disciples chuckled.
Jack whirled around to face him and snapped, "I speak with my help how I damn well please. Get the fuck off my back."
The Disciples laughed among themselves, and Jack turned around and gestured for Sarah to follow. Together they walked into the stairwell, shutting the door behind them.
"I don't know why you're here," Jack said in a low voice, "but you either stay out of the way, or leave. Don't let me—or them —catch you hanging around again, because I can't protect you if they decide they want you. Got it?"
Sarah opened her mouth to argue, but Jack shook her head and left without another word. For a moment Sarah considered cutting her losses and just heading back to Nuka Town, but the old urge to seek out trouble reignited within her, building and building, telling her to go upstairs and talk to the others—find out the deal with the Disciples.
Sarah followed her gut, deciding she could worry about the consequences later. Jack had said she could go help clean up after all, so long as she stayed out of sight.
She found Eddie first, the man she'd saved by landing on his would-be attacker when she'd climbed out of Jack's window with a rope made of old bedsheets. Other than his missing tooth, the scar on his lip was all that remained of his injuries, and his nose was now slightly wonky. He grinned broadly when he saw her.
Next to him was Ethel, the older woman with the creaky voice and a slim, curvy figure. The source of her rasp became immediately apparent: a cigar jammed between her teeth. Sarah felt a pang in her chest as Ethel puffed on it, engulfing the spluttering Eddie in clouds of smoke. In the deepest depths of her memory, she remembered her mom, the click of her Zippo lighter with the sword symbol etched into the case, and the way her dad always told her not to smoke inside the house.
The smell was so familiar, Sarah nearly burst into tears. She could almost hear her mom snapping back at her dad, but still going outside anyway. The smoke lingered on her mom's clothes, sharp and strong, and yet comforting and ever-present, always there whenever she held Sarah close. After Sarah became a ghoul, she never smelled it again.
"God, Ethel, put it out. You're upsetting the kid," Eddie choked.
Ethel grumbled, but did as she was asked, stubbing out the cigar and leaving a neat little burn in the peeling wallpaper. She glanced down at Sarah. "What brings you here, kid?"
"Just wondering how things have been," Sarah said, trying to discreetly inhale the smoke and feeling an odd sense of loss as the cloud cleared. "Haven't spoken to you guys in a while."
"Same as ever here, really," Ethel said, holding herself tight and frowning. "Well...I mean except...don't see the boss around here as much no more."
"Mrs. Bossanova?"
"Boss Nova?" Eddie asked, and then before Sarah could voice her confusion, said, "Nah, not seen the Overboss in a long time. No, Eth is talking about Jack. She's been in a funny mood since Gage stopped visiting. Keeps disappearing for a few days, comes back for a bit to make sure we're alright, then goes out again." He folded his arms. "It's damn peculiar."
"What's more, she keeps bringing the Disciples back with her." Ethel shivered. "Don't like them much. Give me the creeps, and some of the stuff they want you to do…"
"Like what?" Sarah asked, regretting the question as soon as it left her lips.
"They enjoy being cut as much as they love cutting," Eddie said darkly. "Let's leave it at that."
"At least they've stopped being so rough. Not too sure why, but Jack's not had to discipline any of them for a long while. Which is a damn good thing. I always worry she won't get here in time when things go bad with them…"
There was a sudden bang and a lot of yelling downstairs. Eddie and Ethel sighed, sharing a weary glance, and both of them pulled guns from their silky dressing gowns.
"Go sneak out back, kid," Ethel rasped, nodding her head to another door at the end of the corridor. "No need to get yourself involved in this."
This time, Sarah did as she was told, and slipped away quietly. As she reached outside, she spotted Jack at the front, winning in an all out brawl with two Operators and a member of the Pack, none of which were the three Disciples she'd seen earlier. Sarah hovered nearby, wondering whether to get involved or not. She still had her knife, and despite Jack's warnings, she didn't want to give up so easily on speaking to Jack about what she'd overheard with Nisha.
One of the Pack—a large, burly man with a shock of green hair—spotted Sarah and took aim. She screamed as she felt the bullet graze her cheek, and Jack whipped around, finally noticing her. With a snarl, Jack unloaded her gun into the Pack member's head, before kneecapping the other two raiders. Jack's crew burst out the front, armed with shovels and steely expressions, leaving Jack to round on Sarah.
"What did I tell you?" she exploded as she reached Sarah. Sarah took a step back, alarmed at the sudden ferocity, and raised her hands to quell Jack.
"I only wanted to ask—"
"I don't care what you wanted to ask!" Jack interrupted, towering over Sarah. "I told you to leave or stay out of sight! It's not safe here! You could have died just now!"
"But I—"
"No." Jack grabbed Sarah bodily, which shocked her so much she forgot to struggle, and carried Sarah along the dirt track leading up to the brothel. Jack threw Sarah down the path, and she landed with a painful bump. Jack glared at her. "Do not come back here, Sarah. I mean it. Whatever you want to ask, it can wait." She turned on her heel and stomped up to the brothel without a backwards glance.
Sarah stared after her, hands and knees stinging where she'd landed on them. She actually felt...fear. She had been afraid of Jack. Angry too at the way she'd just been treated. What on earth had brought on that reaction? Even at her most protective, Jack had never yelled or manhandled her in such a way before.
Part of her still considered going back and trying to get the truth from Jack, but if Jack was really working with Nisha, her response might be extremely explosive. Better to leave it now and try again later.
Sarah picked herself up and wandered off, unsure where she wanted to go. As she walked, she spied Kiddie Kingdom in the distance. The place no longer held the pull it once did so many months ago, and yet she felt a faint spike of joy in her heart at the sight of its towers and turrets, before it was swept away by the knowledge Oswald no longer lived in its halls. Sarah gazed at it for some time, wondering if the ghouls were still there, moping about, or if they'd moved on. She bit her lip, and after a moment of hesitation, decided it was about time she visited again.
Kiddie Kingdom was deserted. Gone were all the ghouls, with no indication what happened to them. There was no blood, but also no radiation misters or traps. And more importantly, no raiders. The place looked ready to go, but Mrs. Bossanova still hadn't given it to any of the factions, even though Mr. Corbett told Sarah only yesterday the Disciples were due to get a piece of the park any day now.
Sarah hoped the ghouls simply left by themselves with no Oswald to guide them—they hadn't exactly been friendly when she'd last been here—but in her heart she knew Mrs. Bossanova and Gage would have dealt with them personally. Sarah didn't know how she felt about this. Sad, yes...but also relieved. Relieved she didn't have to see what she might eventually turn into one day. Ferals were funny in their own strange way, but she didn't want to be one. And the more she saw of the world, the more she appreciated how she could enjoy the nice bits and run away from the bad.
"Good day, miss!"
Sarah screamed, turning around so fast she tripped over her own feet and bit her tongue.
"Oh!" cried the Mr. Handy, bobbing away from her. "I'm so sorry for startling you, miss! My utmost apologies. Are you alright?"
"Yeah," Sarah said shakily, getting to her feet and dusting herself down. This ghost town was making her jumpy. "Just wasn't expecting…"
The Mr. Handy waited for her to finish her sentence. When she didn't, he cleared the throat he didn't have and said, "I remember you, miss. You were the one with Madam Bossanova in the mines! Are you here to inspect the waste disposal progress?"
Sarah blinked. She had no idea what he was talking about, which of course meant she should say, "Yes." Which she did.
"Marvellous! Follow me!"
And off he went.
Sarah shook her head, deciding she'd need to tell Mrs. Bossanova to tighten the security on her robots, and trailed after the Mr. Handy. He took her through Kiddie Kingdom, chattering away about the "blighters in the mine" and how "we showed them, yes we did!" before stopping at a door she'd never noticed before, tucked away behind a wooden gate with a sign next to it reading 'Employees Only.'
The Mr. Handy led the way inside, through twisting metal tunnels and past rooms filled with junk and trash until Sarah began to notice a change in the air. A second later she rounded a corner and saw why.
Green light spilled from a doorway, filling Sarah's body with the warm rush she associated with Oswald's magic. Beyond the door was a vast room, and when she stepped inside onto the high metal walkways, the warmth became almost uncomfortable. But Sarah barely noticed this, staring down below. The room was filled with glowing water, nearly as high as the walkways themselves. Barrels marked with shabby warning labels for radioactive waste were piled high all around, some of them floating in the vast, green lake.
"This water supply was already contaminated with waste," the Mr. Handy said, answering Sarah's unspoken questions. "It was used to give the misters above a robust, radioactive twist! Madam Bossanova has simply been adding to it, intensifying the effect."
"Why?"
The Mr. Handy bobbed up and down in contemplation, before saying brightly, "I believe her words were, "In case I ever want a spa day!""
Sarah blinked, wondering what on earth a spa was, and then turned back to the glowing lake. She stood in silence as it warmed her to her bones.
"I managed to fix the misting system, too!" the Mr. Handy added. "One of the ferals had chewed a hole through some of the wire work, but I patched it right up! Come see!"
Sarah cast one last look at the sea of waste, and then followed the robot back up to the open air. He spun dramatically around to face her with a, "Behold, miss!" —or at least as dramatically as he could manage, considering he could only revolve slowly on the spot—and the misters came on. At once the warm rush came back, far more powerful than it had ever been in Oswald's day, but not as strong as the intense radiation in the tunnels below.
Sarah closed her eyes, enjoying the gentle tickle of the mist, then opened them again. "Where did you activate the misters from?"
"Ah, Madam Bossanova gave me a special remote to test them from anywhere in Nuka World. Made fixing them that much easier, I can assure you."
A sudden thought struck her. Mr. Corbett told her yesterday the Disciples were likely next in line for a piece of the park. "Does anyone else have a remote like yours for the misting system?"
"Just Madam Bossanova, I believe."
Sarah smiled.
Indecision gripped Sarah as she sat in one of her usual haunts—the cliff the disused power plant stood upon, overlooking the brothel. She'd been here many times before, exploring every nook and cranny of the building, before growing bored and moving on. Now she simply sat watching Jack and her people burying bodies at the back of the brothel—the Pack and Operators who'd picked a fight earlier.
Sarah shivered, a heavy sense of foreboding hanging over her. She had intended to go back and speak to Jack about Nisha, like she'd planned to that morning. But the presence of the Disciples inside, the conversation with Eddie and Ethel, and Jack's outburst told Sarah this would be a stupid move. Confronting Jack might mean her own backyard burial.
The worries had returned with a vengeance, running over and over in her head. Jack was a problem. And as bad as Mrs. Bossanova could be, as much as she let the horrors of Nuka World happen, she seemed to be trying to rein them in, or at least get the gangs under control for her own protection. But whatever Mrs. Bossanova was, she didn't peel people alive. That was waiting for the boss if Jack went ahead with whatever she was planning.
Sarah continued this trail of thought as she got to her feet and made the long walk back to town. When she finally passed through the gates, she headed to the marketplace and paced up and down along the stalls, ignoring the orders Mr. Corbett tried to give her and sending him away with one well-placed, filthy look. If she told Mrs. Bossanova about Jack, the slaves wouldn't be freed. But if she let things lie, both the boss and Gage could die deaths so awful they made Sarah want to vomit. As angry as she was with them, she couldn't just stand by and let it happen.
Within the hour, Sarah made up her mind. She wasn't going to tell on Jack, but maybe she could persuade Mrs. Bossanova to go along with releasing the slaves. That way, Jack wouldn't keep helping the Disciples, and everyone would be safe and happy. Well...except maybe Gage. But he was never happy.
Sarah shook her head as she strode across Nuka Town towards the Grille. Mrs. Bossanova could deal with Gage later. Sarah had to try now. Because if anything happened, it would be her fault.
She spied Gage on the other side of the street, apparently too wrapped up in his own thoughts to see her. He hadn't looked good the last time she'd seen him, when he'd taught her how to use a knife, but now he appeared downright ill. His clothes were hanging off his noticeably thinner frame, his face gaunt and pale, with a dark shadow under his visible eye. The other raiders had clearly picked up on it too, because they were watching him with gleeful expressions on their nasty faces, and two Disciples seemed to be trailing not far behind him. With a pang of fear, Sarah realised it was the two she'd seen skinning the unknown man: Molly and Grace. She'd recognise their awful masks anywhere.
For a moment, Sarah considered discreetly approaching Gage and warning him about his stalkers, but as she tried to figure out how she could do this, he stomped off in the direction of the market, making the decision for her.
What could she have said anyway? Gage wouldn't listen to someone like her.
Trying not to worry about him, Sarah set off for the Grille once more, climbing the stairs quickly, praying Mrs. Bossanova would be there. Now she'd made her decision, she wanted this over with quickly, for better or for worse.
Her prayers were answered.
"Sarah?" Mrs. Bossanova smiled as Sarah knocked and came in. "What a pleasant surprise. I made some food a while ago: chowder. It might be a bit cold now, but I could heat it up. Are you hungry?"
"I wanted to talk to you about something," Sarah blurted out, so suddenly Mrs. Bossanova stopped dead, her brow creasing with concern.
"Is everything okay?" Mrs. Bossanova set down a pan, her expression darkening. "Has someone tried to hurt you?"
"No." Sarah started tugging absentmindedly on her collar, the anxiety making her hands tremble. "I just...I need to...I was wondering if you might consider—"
She tugged on her defunct collar again, and it came clean away from her neck, hitting the floor with a deafening clunk.
Sarah froze, her mouth hanging open as she looked down at the collar, lying still at her feet. Terror coursed through her body, her heart battering against her ribs, fighting to get out, while blood pounded through her ears. Sarah could feel the scream stuck in her throat, choking her. Mrs. Bossanova had seen her collar didn't work.
She was going to die.
Wiseman flashed before her eyes, the kind crinkles in his weathered face. Mr. Glass, a hand pressed to his bloody stomach, pushing her through the fence. He'd tried so hard to save her, and for what? She'd screwed it all up. She could have left when Jack offered, made it home, seen them all again. Instead Sarah stayed, and now she was going to end up like Mr. Glass.
Maybe she could run, but where could she go? To get back to the transit station, she'd have to get through Nuka Town, Mrs. Bossanova on her heels, past all of the raiders. And even if she somehow evaded them all, the Gauntlet waited for her, along with the remains of Mr. Glass.
All of these thoughts rushed through Sarah's head at breakneck speed, leaving her punch-drunk. She swayed on the spot as Mrs. Bossanova walked over, her expression unreadable, and suddenly Sarah knew whatever she did, she would never get away. It was over. She'd failed.
Sarah closed her eyes as Mrs. Bossanova knelt down next to her, waiting for the blow. She didn't want to see it coming. She didn't want to be like Oswald.
Something cold and hard touched her throat, and she knew it was the sword. Sarah flinched, but still didn't move. Was Mrs. Bossanova toying with her?
Click.
She opened her eyes. Mrs. Bossanova lowered her arms, smiling sadly at the collar hanging from Sarah's neck. Sarah raised a trembling hand, touching it uncertainly, staring at the old lady. What was going on?
"You need to be more careful," Mrs. Bossanova said gently. "If you're going to stay in Nuka World, mistakes like that can't happen."
Sarah's jaw dropped. "You knew?"
Mrs. Bossanova rolled her eyes. "Of course I knew. It was my idea." She cocked her head to the side, giving it a little shake. "Nothing happens here without my knowledge."
Sarah's expectations collided with reality, sending the world spinning from her grasp. Everything she thought she knew swayed violently around her, so fast and dizzying she couldn't breathe. Mrs. Bossanova knew. No, not only knew, but gave the orders.
Sarah gaped at her, struggling to find the words. In the space of seconds, everything she'd taken for truth had been stripped away, leaving her raw and confused. Once again, she realised how little she understood this woman, just when she thought she finally had the facts.
"But…" Sarah tried valiantly to wrap her head around the situation. "But I was told the slaves were gonna be freed, and you didn't know!" Jack's words came to mind, the malice behind them. The hatred. Had it been a lie? "Jack told me you were trying to make her turn Mr. Corbett into a slaver! That you wanted to bring in more slaves!"
Mrs. Bossanova shook her head. "She wasn't honest with you. I wasn't sure how much you could handle, and I didn't want you to let something slip. Otherwise, the results would have been disastrous. I knew your little habit of finding out things you shouldn't, so I made it clear if you did find out, to keep my involvement a secret. If the other raiders knew, the retribution against myself, Gage, and every trader in this park would be swift and violent. At this stage, there would be no recovery from such a blow."
Sarah glared indignantly at her. "But I stayed quiet! I helped. I've been helping for ages! Why didn't you trust me then? Why didn't you tell me you freed me?"
"Because…" Mrs. Bossanova bit her lip, lowering her gaze for a moment. "Because I hurt you. I took away Oswald. I didn't want to take away your right to hate me, too." Her face darkened, filled with self-loathing. "I want to earn your forgiveness, not buy it with petty gestures."
Sarah stopped, unsure how to respond to this. After everything that had happened, Mrs. Bossanova had not forgotten Oswald, but carried the weight of his death the same way she did. The fact she didn't want to win Sarah over with her freedom touched her too, and amongst the confusing mix of feelings, she felt a stab of pity. But it was quickly buried under more questions, her head spinning. "So when the collar was removed…that was you?"
"I'd asked for it to be removed, yes. But I'd specified only after testing. I hadn't actually expected you to follow her from the marketplace when I'd hit you so hard. Stupid of me." Mrs. Bossanova shook her head. "Let me tell you, when I found out my instructions were ignored in such a reckless manner, I was furious." Her scowl deepened. "I had...sharp words with everyone involved." Her expression cleared. "But what surprised me even more was your choice to stay. You wouldn't believe my shock at your fiery return to the Grille." She smiled. "I wasn't lying when I said you are a rare thing."
Sarah blinked, remembering the moment Mrs. Bossanova dropped the coffee pot. "So you already knew what happened when I came to speak to you about Oswald?" She stopped, massaging her temples. Her head was beginning to hurt. "How? I came straight to you! I didn't stop to speak to anyone!"
"Chip," Mrs. Bossanova replied simply. "He was sent on ahead and had the good sense to take the hint and seek me out immediately. All I had to do was convince you I didn't know, which was simple enough." She gave her an apologetic look. "You were so angry with me at the story about turning Corbett into a slaver. I'm sorry."
"I could have taken that further," Sarah replied, stunned. All of this seemed so risky. "What if I made everyone turn against you?"
"I was certain you wouldn't."
"Why?"
"Because an uprising would be bloody and with no guarantee of success. You already knew the slow removal of collars would safely free everyone, with a low chance of being caught. You're a kind soul, Sarah. You won't hurt people unnecessarily when there are better options."
Sarah wasn't sure whether to be offended at how easily she'd been played, or relieved. She rubbed her face with her hand, trying to take it all in. She'd been certain Jack was working alone—it had all been so convincing. Now she didn't know what to think. Did this mean the meet with Jack and Nisha was garbage too? She was afraid to ask, and besides, she had other questions she needed answering first. Jack could wait. "Do all the traders know you're planning on freeing them?"
"No. Just one or two. I want as little collateral as possible." Mrs. Bossanova paused at the blank look on Sarah's face and grinned. "If something goes wrong, I don't want anyone hurt from knowing too much. Keeping certain people in the dark protects them."
"Like Gage?"
Mrs. Bossanova's face dropped. She hesitated and then said, "Yes, like Gage."
"What's going to happen with him? He won't like this."
"Well, as far as Gage is concerned…" Mrs. Bossanova's voice trailed to nothing, her eyes widening on a fixed point above Sarah's head. She turned around, filled with dread, and felt her stomach clench with terror.
Gage filled the doorway with a wall of silence, staring at Mrs. Bossanova from across the room. How long had he been there? And what had he heard?
His face was blank, devoid of any feeling or thought—it was simply there, its remaining eye boring into the boss with a singular, empty intensity that erased Sarah from existence. He wasn't trying to scare or intimidate, but the absence of his familiar, explosive anger sent chills through Sarah's body. Gage should be furious at Mrs. Bossanova. He should be hollering, the way he always did when something pissed him off.
The fact he wasn't frightened Sarah in a way she couldn't explain.
When Gage took a step forward, both she and Mrs. Bossanova tensed. He ignored this, his gaze still fixed on the old lady. "Left my gun behind." Even his voice sounded odd. Gone was the gruffness, replaced with something smooth and flat.
Mrs. Bossanova straightened up. Her hand twitched, as if about to grab her sword, but thought better of it.
Gage didn't miss it. "Gonna stab me, boss?"
"Only if you give me a reason to." She remained still, and Sarah watched open mouthed, begging in her head for Mrs. Bossanova to do something, anything, as he stalked towards her. Gage would hurt her, and she seemed content to let it happen.
The tension in the room was building, a knife slowly working under the skin, peeling it up from muscle and fat and bone. He was within reach of her now, fists clenched like he was fighting to control them.
"Tell me I heard wrong," Gage said suddenly, his brow creasing as he looked at her, and for a moment he appeared lost, the pleading note in his voice as loud as a scream. "Tell me there's somethin' else. Tell me you ain't releasin' them."
Lie!
Slowly, Mrs. Bossanova shook her head. "I'm releasing them. But I—"
Gage pounced.
There was a bang as they hit the bartop, and Sarah ducked, shielding her face as glasses and bottles scattered and smashed everywhere, narrowly missing her. When Sarah looked up, she saw Gage's hands wrapped around Mrs. Bossanova's neck, pinning her over backwards with his body weight as he pressed his thumbs deep into her throat.
Gage was gone. Something terribly still and quiet had taken his place, and it wore an empty expression as it slowly choked the life out of its prey.