6. Mississippi Mud
What a dance do they do!
Lordy, how I'm tellin' you
They don't need no band
They keep time by clappin' their hand
Just as happy as a cow chewin' on a cud
When the people beat their feet on the Mississippi Mud
For how hot the wasteland was during the day, it got cold at night. Before dawn? Colder than a witch's tit in a brass bra.
B shivered, flipping the collar of Butch's jacket up around her neck. Oh, come on, Nosebleed! She smiled at the protest in her head. The boy drove her crazy but he was nothing if not predictable. Even if right now he was only part of her imagination. She couldn't imagine him being out here too. And then, because she apparently enjoyed torturing herself, she started seeing Leo and Butch side by side in her mind. Two sets of very different blue eyes.
At her side, Dogmeat stopped, nose to the sky and ears cocked.
She didn't notice until he started to growl softly and she froze. His hackles lifted. B pulled her head up, searching. At first, she didn't see anything. Then she saw the glint of metal in the moonlight. A chill went through her body that had absolutely nothing to do with it being night time.
Raider. Probably more than one if recent events had taught her anything. Her ribs ached where she was still healing.
B glanced down at Dogmeat. "Think we'll be able to go around?"
The dog continued to growl.
She didn't know how the dog knew the good guys from the bad guys. Or the sort of decent people from the bad guys. Or the ones who weren't going to immediately shoot her on sight. Or the ones who-
She shook her head away from that line of thought. It was too easy to be afraid of everyone. She didn't want to be afraid of everyone. Especially not that way.
But these guys… If she trusted anyone's judgement out here, she trusted Dogmeat's. If he thought these guys were a threat, then she didn't want them this close to Megaton. Not with Harden and Maggie there.
She crept forward, hoping her ball cap kept her hair from being too bright and using the rocks for cover. When she got closer, she paused. Obviously she could go in with her baseball bat and it would save precious ammunition. But one of the raiders in the Super Duper Mart had had a big rifle and apparently it could do some damage at close range, considering the damage she had done to the shelves and building. B really didn't want to get shot again, not this close to being fully healed, and if one of the raiders had one of those guns, she'd be screwed.
Dogmeat went silent though he was still looking aggressive so she unholstered the 10mm she'd gotten in the Vault. Her hands were shaking and she had to wipe her palms on her jumpsuit so she could actually hold onto the grip. Jericho's gruff voice filled her mind and she carefully aimed down the sight. Inhale. Exhale. Hold. Fire. The gun kicked a little but didn't distract her from the way the raider's throat tore open, blood painted silver as it fountained out. She'd missed what she was aiming at but hadn't missed him. Horrified fascination kept her eyes on the spray even as the other two raiders began shouting. She forced her head down, ducking behind a rock. Her heart rate kicked up and saliva filled her mouth. This wasn't her first kill; that distinction had gone to a raider in the Super-Duper mart. But it was her first kill without being attacked first and her first kill with a gun.
Cold-blooded killer was what she was now. She'd already earned the badge of mass murderer. And now, thoughts skipping like a bad record, she realized that she might well be a serial killer on top of that. Assassin? No. Not assassin. She didn't think. What was the difference?
"Oh, God…" She was going to be sick. Dogmeat, hunkered down beside her, whined softly, pressing his wet nose into her slack, empty hand. The shouting drew closer and that was what made her shift her shoulders back and shove the nausea to the side, praying to whatever listened that she wouldn't lose it in the middle of a fight. "Fine. I'm good. Can't say great. But good." B inhaled roughly, reholstered her gun and pulled her baseball bat from where it had been stuck in her pack. "I can throw up later."
The sun was just starting to glow on the horizon when a bruised and battered B made it to the spot on her map Lucy had marked as Arefu. Dogmeat yipped, bounding forward. Dried blood matted the fur on his muzzle from when he'd torn into one of the raider's legs.
"Dogmeat, what are you- Oh, gross!" Her face contorted as the dog rolled onto his back, pressed against the belly of one of those two-headed brahmin things. Then he rubbed against the torn, rotting body.
That did it. Bile filled her mouth and she dropped to her knees, gagging. Her eyes slammed shut as she tried for control. Waves of heat radiated up her body and she swallowed frantically, breathing through her nose. Of course, it didn't help that while she was exhaling, a broad tongue swiped up her face. With her startled inhale came the rank reek of death and decay wafting over her. She promptly twisted away from the dog tongue and threw up, emptying her stomach of its contents and ribs groaning in protest.
Balancing on three limbs, she pressed a hand over the wound on her abdomen. Between the recovering gunshots and her new bruises, her body ached. The pain nearly made her feel ill again but she shoved herself to her feet, teeth digging into her bottom lip to keep the whimper of pain inside. Regardless, she couldn't stop the harsh exhale through her nostrils. B glared at the dog sitting near her, tongue lolling out as he panted at her. "I may not smell all that great anymore, but you're just gross. Rad-X for the both of us and you are getting a bath."
Dogmeat whined.
B glared at him all the more fiercely.
"'That's what dogs do,' he says. If I'd known they were that ugh, not sure I'd have brought you along, even if you are a pretty good companion."
Dogmeat shook, spraying her with water from the Potomac and flecks of suds. She quickly shut her eyes to avoid getting any of the radioactive water in them and the Geiger counter in her Pip-boy began ticking more insistently.
"Stop that. I didn't dose us both with Rad-X just for you to spray me with water." She glared at the still lathered canine. "And you know what else? I didn't really understand what those old books were talking about when they mentioned the smell of wet dog." B began to scratch his sides more vigorously, bound and determined to get every last trace of dead brahmin from his fur. "Of course, I thought it was an exaggeration. There was no way it could possible smell that bad." She dumped another bucket of water over Dogmeat. "But they've never smelled wet dog and decomposing Brahmin. Not that you only smell like wet dog. I'd rather you did but beggars can't be choosers." She scooped up another bucket of water from the river, feeling the mud of the riverbank sink into her Vault suit a little more as she shifted her weight on her knees. The pain from her various wounds had faded to a constant ache but still she was cautious to not fill the buckets up too far.
The hairs on the back of her neck lifted and Dogmeat began to growl, soapy hackles lifting. B froze and turned slowly to see a giant mutated...thing bearing down on her, claws raised menacingly.
She yelped, throwing herself backwards, bucket falling from her grip. Her palm hit the Potomac with a splash and her Pip-boy started going crazy. The creature lunged at her, claws splashing down harmlessly next to her. Dogmeat turned, snarling, and leaped at it, teeth and claws clacking uselessly against the creature's carapace.
Gun! Gun! Gun! The word shrieked through her mind and she dove for her pack, safe out of the water's reach. A swipe of a claw tore against her bare shoulder. She pulled her 10mm out and rolled awkwardly to keep the gun off the ground but she ended up mixing dirt and sand into the bloody gash. On her stomach, facing the creature that had become distracted by Dogmeat's teeth catching on a chink in the armor, B took a moment to try to settle. Inhale. Exhale. She was sighting through the exhale, even before holding her breath. First shot went wide, disappearing with a puff of dust into the dilapidated shack to her right. She swore softly. Second shot embedded in a claw raised to swipe at a crouching, snarling Dogmeat. The creature turned to her, beady eyes glinting blackly in the sunlight reflecting off the Potomac. There. She forced herself to still, feeling her heart hammering away wilding and feeling as though she were about to faint. For a moment, she heard Jericho in her head, snarling at her to keep her gun steady even though her hands shook. It moved toward her, uninjured claw raised. Her heart catapulted upwards. She emptied the rest of the clip into its face, a high pitched screech breaking free from her throat. Her forearm burned from the effort of squeezing the trigger that rapidly.
It stopped, swayed for a moment, then fell forward. The tip of its raised claw caught her cheek as it swung down, tearing through her skin. She barely registered the sting of the new cut. Her chest heaved, fear and adrenaline and fight burning through her blood as she stared at the creature lying in front of her. Dogmeat whined, licking her face on the uninjured side. There was a thin, shallowly bleeding cut across his nose.
A laugh started deep in her chest, bubbling up into near hysterics. "What the hell was that?" She dropped her forehead into the mud. "I'm alive. I'm alive and I don't know what the hell that was." She started laughing, breathing in the smell of mud and life and she was alive. Still. Against pretty much all odds. "Dogmeat, I'm not finished with your bath. You're still soapy." She lifted her head, grin still on her face and twisted to look up at Arefu. "Wonder if they'll pay any caps for this thing."
Hours later, B stumbled into the Brass Lantern with Dogmeat forever at her side, soaked in sweat and mud and almost perfectly sure that her shoulder was already infected. She could feel the heat of it despite the chills shivering through her body. Even still, the thrum of surviving hadn't left her. Really, it was probably the only thing keeping her on her feet at this point.
"Leo," she croaked, trying to ignore exactly how strong her relief was at seeing him..
His eyes flicked up but he didn't really see her, distracted by the dinner rush. She frowned at her own disappointment and the disappointment for her disappointment. He is working. You can wait. "Just a second. Here's your salisbury steak and your beer, my good man. Let me know if there's anything else ya want." The settler grumbled a thanks and sat down at the bar.
She tried again now that he had started to wipe off the bar. "Leo."
"You just missed the caravan, B. If you run, you can probably catch up with them if you wanted something." He still wasn't looking at her. Is he ignoring me? Her temper spiked a little.
"Leo!" Dogmeat clamped his teeth down on Leo's jeans and tugged him toward B at her shout.
"What?" he finally looked up and blanched. "What the fuck happened to your face?"
Ouch. "Ran into something called a mirelurk, apparently. Not the point, though." Now that he was actually paying attention, she realized how disgusting and exhausted she probably looked. Then started berating herself for being ridiculous. She didn't need his approval. She didn't.
Leo moved around the counter to cup her face in his hands and peer at the disfiguring red gash. B stopped breathing at the proximity, stiffening up. "I've got a stimpack if you-"
"Can't." Her voice cracked and she cleared it, feeling her cheeks heat up. "Have to go and see if my shoulder's infected. You don't need to worry. I'm stitched up and I'm not really bleeding anymore. But Wadsworth is out of purified water and I don't really want to drink that irradiated crap since I ended up in the Potomac earlier. And because I throw up every time I drink it and I've already done that once today."
"What the hell were you doing?" Without asking permission, Leo released her face to pull on Butch's jacket. He was rough only until her yelp and Dogmeat's answering growl. Her face contorted, prompting another flinch. But he gentled, rough fingers brushing against her collarbone.
"All I was trying to do was deliver a letter, I swear. The only surviving recipient is with something called the Family. I was trying to find them." She let him pull Butch's jacket off, barely able to control the impulse to zip it up and desperately trying to ignore the curious onlookers still eating or drinking. Or pretending to in favor of watching the show.
Her Vault suit was tied around her waist, leaving her shoulders bare other than her tank top when he tugged the leather jacket away. B stiffened, fists clenching at her sides. Her left shoulder was bandaged, not well, but the yellowed cloth was bloodstained. Leo winced in sympathy.
"Did you?"
"It was starting to get late. I didn't- I don't want to be caught outside at night again." His eyes lifted and met hers, following the torn gash on her cheek on their way up. She shifted uncomfortably, realizing how close they were. His eyes flicked down to her lips before he took a step back to give her some space, space which relaxed her tense muscles.
"Oh, come on. We're dying of radiation poisoning sitting here watching you two dance around each other. Kiss already!" Other patrons in the bar started laughing at the complaint.
B squeezed her eyes shut, ignoring the way it pulled at her cheek, mortified and grateful that her sunburn hid the violent blushing. Leo whipped his head around to glare at the man who'd spoken, pink blooming on his own cheeks. "Out."
"But-"
"Out."
The man stood, half-full beer in hand, stumbling. "You young kids need to learn to stop taking things so slowly. Damn. Ain't got much time out here."
Leo rubbed the back of his neck, trying to remember what the hell they'd been talking about. "Well, I, uh, I don't blame you."
One eye opened cautiously.
"Not traveling at night. You're still healing up from your gunshot wounds."
Her other eye opened. "I was due for my last stimpack tonight. Guess that's not happening." Her shoulders were tense again. "Leo, I appreciate this and all but I need water. Please. I can pay you the caps in the morning."
"Oh, right. Yeah. Sure." He reached back behind the counter and tossed her a bottle of water, not thinking.
She caught it with her injured shoulder and let out a whimper. "Son of a-" She exhaled roughly, shaking her head. "Thanks. I need to go take a dose of Radaway."
Leo blinked at her. "Why? It's not like you went swimming. You should be fine."
B's shoulders inch further upwards. "I'm not a Wastelander. If you guys have any resistance to radiation, I don't have it. I've already gotten one mutation and I'd prefer not getting another. So I'm going to go take my Radaway and settle in for the night." She looked over at the still amused patrons who wisely weren't saying anything before her head jerked back towards Leo, left hand shaking. She pulled Butch's jacket back on protectively. "I've already got a meal, you don't need to worry about it. Dogmeat!" She whistled sharply and turned on her heel. The dog licked Leo's hand and bounded after B. She was limping, Leo noticed, favoring her left foot.
Disappointed sighs filled the bar as she left.
Then her words registered. "Wait, what mutation?" The door closed before he actually got the words out. A rag hit him in the back of the head.
He whirled around to see Andy turning his back to his older brother. "Quit gawking after the Vaultie and get back to work." Leo threw the rag back, feeling heat creep up his neck again. Work. He had work to do. Right.
AN: Thank you, middle school typing classes because I just bolded, italicized, and underlined without being able to see the keyboard. Go me. Anywho, I'm really enjoying the way this is starting to head.
Let me know what y'all think as always and a shoutout to LivingBiscuit and jojo061 for following and/or favoriting the story. Y'all are the bomb.