"Almost there," Nora said, although she wasn't sure if it was to encourage herself or Deacon.

Deacon said nothing. He'd been quiet since he'd been attacked, and had been utterly silent for the last mile or so. Being on patrol with him while he wasn't running his mouth was surreal, and she wasn't sure she liked it. He was definitely more injured than he was letting on. She suspected that he had refused the stimpak because he was afraid she would need it, but she had 30 of the damned things on her. When they left North Church, she didn't know how long they'd be gone, so she had stocked up on them. She might have to ninja it into him; he'd be pissed, but he'd live.

And he might not live otherwise, she thought grimly. Sure he was up walking around. But that punch he took to the sternum worried her. He was getting out of breath far too easily. She reminded herself that they were almost there. Almost...

A bullet whizzing by her head interrupted her thoughts.

"FUCK."

Deacon pulled her off the path and behind one of the many large dead trees in the area.

"I don't want to make you nervous, but..."

"Yeah, yeah. I suspect you're right. We're not alone." she said. "You hit?"

Deacon shook his head. "You?"

"Did you think you'd get away?" a male voice shouted. "You were too god-damned easy to track."

"Track this!" Deacon shouted, and fired of a couple of rounds from his .44 snubnose before ducking back behind the tree with her.

They heard a scream, so at least one of those bullets hit...well, something living.

"You're going to pay for that, pretty boy!" came the same voice. "That's two of my crew in one day."

"Awww, he thinks I'm pretty. I can't take credit for both, but thank you for thinking so highly of me." Deacon yelled back.

There was silence for a moment, and Nora was wondering how many of them there were.

"Four or five, at least," he said, somehow reading her thoughts. Before she could reply, a rock landed near... no, no, that was a frag grenade.

"Move it!" she shouted, and they ran again, making it just behind a large clump of rocks before a rain of frag debris hit their cover, followed closely by an insane number of bullets.

"Damn it, they've got a minigun!" Nora exclaimed under her breath.

"How much further to this bunker?"

"Not much further."

"Great." Deacon murmured, then looked at her, surprised, as she started looking through her backpack. "Don't tell me you've got something better than your portable death ray in there."

"Well, no. But..."

"A flare gun? You think there are Minutemen around here?"

"Not Minutemen." she said, pulling out a flare. She and Danse had designed a system, and she had altered a few flares for the purpose. "Do you think you can run?"

"Something tells me we're about to find out."

She nodded.

"Hopefully Danse is out in the open where he can see this. Once I fire this, we need to take off. The flare will tell him that we're coming...and we're coming in hot. He'll get the security system ready."

"Sounds like suicide. But, so is staying here. And what the hell. The life expectancy of a Railraod agent is...well, it's not long."

"Well, it's going to extend past today. So get ready. Once this fires, start running. Half a mile in that direction. I'll be right behind you."

He looked at her skeptically. "Promise?"

"Promise."

"Alright, Fixer. Let's see if you can fix this."