A few hours later they finally crested the top of the hill. Seatac spread out in the valley below, all shattered buildings and rolling fog, and behind, the black waters of the Sound. Lights peppered the shadows of the valley, and in the distance, lightning crackled from the dark clouds that hung perpetually in the sky. To their right, the Cascades curved out and around, their tops shrouded in mist. To the left and across the Sound, the Olympics mirrored them, standing tall and menacing.
"Wow." Matt breathed.
"Welcome to Seatac, boys and girls." Justin said.
"Where's Columbia?" Silverado asked.
Justin pointed into the tangle of skyscrapers in the valley below. The tops all disappeared into the low, dark clouds, but rumor had it that Columbia was the tallest. No one had ever made it high enough to know for sure.
"See that real dark one over there? With the funky curved side?"
"Yeah. That it?"
"It is indeed."
"That doesn't look far." Silverado said with what might have been hope.
Justin shook his head. "It's not, but it's too far to get there today. Sun's gonna start going down soon, and we don't wanna get caught out. The Choke can move in like that-" He snapped. Then he grimaced as an uncomfortable pang rolled through his lower back. He sniffed the air, looking out over the Sound.
"Storm's coming." He announced.
"What?"
"Smell that?" Justin sniffed again. "That salt on the air? Wind's picking up real strong, that's coming in off the Sound. Pressure's going down, and with all these clouds rolling around up here in the foothills, it-" He cut off, taking a sharp breath as the pain in his back spiked. "Ah, fuck. Yeah, it's gonna be a doozy. We need to find shelter ASAP."
"Will one of those buildings work?" Silverado pointed down the hill. The trees here continued to be sparse, the forest giving way to old subdivisions. That didn't improve visibility much. The roads were windy, and much of the landscape north of them laid hidden behind old buildings and tucked between switchbacks and steep inclines.
"Hopefully. I'd prefer to find a garage, or someplace open enough for us to get a fire going. It's going to get real cold."
Silverado nodded.
"Wait." Hardy spoke up. "How far behind is this gonna put us?"
Justin looked out across the valley, then up at the sky, calculating the time. "At best a couple hours. Depends on how long the storm lasts, sometimes they go for a couple days."
"Days?"
Justin fixed him with a hard stare. "Yeah, days. Got a problem with that?"
Hardy's fists clenched. "Obviously." He turned to Silverado, then pointed out at the skyscrapers puncturing the horizon. "Lets just fucking go. We got a clear shot, we don't need this Scav anymore."
"If you wanna die in a radioactive rainstorm, be my guest." Justin muttered.
"We're gonna do what he says, Hardy. He knows the area better than us." Silverado said. Hardy looked for a moment like he might start swinging, but he took in a few deep breaths and the tension eased from his shoulders.
"Fine." He said through gritted teeth, though he wasn't looking at Silverado. His eyes were on Justin, and they were bright with hatred.
They picked their way down the slopes, sticking to roads where they could. Justin had them move slowly and as quietly as possible - they weren't quite in the area he knew was swarming with feral ghouls, but the way things had been going, he wouldn't be surprised if they ran into the one pack that had made its way this far west. They checked the buildings they passed looking for a good spot to hunker down, but the first few had almost no roofs left to speak of. Justin theorized that the buildings further up in the foothills had suffered more damage from the initial bombs dropping, though he had very little evidence to go off of. No one was quite sure where the impacts had actually been - there was no telling what existed in the thick pockets of Choke. Rumor had it warheads could be found all over, and once every few years some raider boss or other claimed to have an undetonated nuke, though nothing ever came of it.
Finally after about an hour of looking, right when the sky was beginning to really darken and Justin was getting nervous, they came upon a low, flat building with two large garage doors in front. An old mechanic shop, it looked like.
"Perfect." Justin said, observing it's crumbling brick facade. He grabbed one of the bent garage doors and tried to haul it upward. The metal groaned but didn't budge. He tried the other one, and found it had a bit more give, enough to provide room for someone to slip underneath.
"Hey - someone take a peek, make sure we're not walking into a deathtrap." Justin said, holding the door up.
"I'll go." Matt offered, pulling out his gun. Hardy shot out a hand, putting it on his brother's shoulder.
"Not alone you won't." Hardy said.
"I don't care who the fuck goes, this thing ain't light." Justin muttered, readjusting his grip on the metal.
Hardy and Matt both squeezed under the door. Justin held his breath, listening to the sounds of them rummaging about on the other side.
"Looks alright!" Matt called. "Lots of junk in here, we should be able to clear a spot to- shit!" His voice cut off, and Justin heard the zip-crack of laser pistol fire. Between the shots he heard loud buzzing.
"Fuck! Damn bloatfly nest!" Hardy yelled, punctuating his words with laser fire. "Fuck-! You-! Fucking-! Bugs-!"
The wet spittle spray of bloatfly salvos interrupted the gunfire, followed by the splat of larvae colliding. Matt screamed.
"Ah! God! It got me in the face!" The laser fire sped up, and then abruptly stopped.
Justin hoisted at the door again, trying desperately to open it further. Gus, Silverado and Bethany moved in to assist, and slowly they began inching it upward, the metal screeching. On the other side of the door, it had gone quiet.
The garage door screamed it's way open. On the other side, Matt was sitting on an overturned shelf, his hands at his face. Blood dripped through his fingers. Hardy was close by, hand on his shoulder and talking to him. Dead bloatflies littered the floor, and in the far corner next to the inside door sat a filthy, fleshy sac covered in burned holes. On closer inspection Justin realized it was a dead mirelurk that must have been absolutely filled with maggots. His stomach turned and he looked away, feeling lightheaded.
"Hey, Matt, you're alright, you're alright." Hardy's voice wavered slightly, but he spoke with a gentleness Justin wouldn't have expected was even possible from him. "I know it hurts but you gotta let me see it."
Matt was breathing in short, pained sobs, and it looked like he was trying to listen to his brother, but couldn't actually get himself to move. Slowly, in fits and jerks, he managed to raise his head away from his hands. The side of his cheek, from under his eye going back into his hairline, was split and ragged. Hardy's face paled when he saw it, but he swallowed and nodded.
"Alright, that's not too bad." He said, and Justin commended him on his lying skills. "Your eye's okay, and it's not stuck in ya. You'll be fine."
Matt let out a little whimper and nodded.
"We're gonna need to clean that, stitch it up."
"Y-yeah." Matt's voice was shaking. He sounded very young.
Justin set down the Supercomputer, grabbing his medical bag from the side. "Hardy-" He caught the man's eye and tossed it. Hardy snatched it from midair, though his expression never changed from that steely glare. Justin wrung his hands, nervously cracking his knuckles.
"I- I also have Med-X, if that would-"
"Get the fuck outta here, Scav!" Hardy snapped.
Justin slunk away. He looked up at Stock, hovering nearby, and sighed.
While the others took care of Matt, Justin busied himself getting their camp set up. He shoved the shelves out through the open garage, clearing floor space. Then he found an overturned metal barrel, rebar spilled out across the floor in front of it. He made a mental note to come back for the rebar later. He cleared out the rest of the barrel and then rolled it close to the door, keeping it under the roof cover. That would work to contain a fire for the night so they didn't all freeze to death when the rain started coming down.
He glanced back at the others, thinking he should tell one of them he was going out to get firewood, but none of them was paying attention. Justin sighed and whistled for Barrel and Stock to follow, then set off.
The sky was a mess of churning black clouds, and as he walked his back screamed it's discomfort at the movement. "Ahh, shit…" Justin breathed as he made his way down the broken street. He looked over at Stock and shook his head. In the distance, thunder crashed, rolling down the mountains. "It's gonna be bad, girl." He muttered. He was not talking about the storm.
Eventually Justin came across another house, this one mostly splintered wood and rusted metal. He grabbed as many pieces of broken wood as he could fit his arm around, and then pointed to the top of the building, where the roof had caved in. What looked like a support beam was laying across the top, the ends splintered. "Stock, fetch." He ordered.
Stock flew up to the beam, and a clamp lowered from her undercarriage. It snapped around the beam and whirred. Slowly, she lifted the beam and brought it down. It was a little bit over what she should carry, but they weren't going far.
The first few drops of rain began to trickle out of the dark sky as Justin returned to the garage. He threw his pile of wood down next to the barrel, and Stock dropped her beam on top. Justin glanced at the others and saw that Matt's face was bandaged, and he was sitting leaned up against the wall. The skin around his eyes was red and raw, and he looked dead tired. Justin couldn't blame the kid.
Everyone pointedly avoided his gaze, except Hardy. Hardy glared at him from the other side of the garage. Justin didn't look at him for long, and instead tried to busy himself getting a fire going. The rain was steady now, the wind picking up and beginning to send gusts through their shelter. The temperature had already dropped, and it was only going to get worse as night set in.
Justin picked up a bit of splintered wood and braced it against the concrete, stepping onto it with his armor frame until it snapped in two. He threw the pieces into the barrel and moved on to the next one. He could feel Hardy's eyes on the back of his head as he worked. He tried to ignore it, just as he tried to ignore the ever-growing pain in his lower back. The gusto with which he broke each wood beam escalated, his teeth grinding together. Finally he threw the last pieces into the barrel and turned, mouth already open to say something - what exactly, he didn't know, but he wasn't going to spend the rest of the night being silently glared at.
Hardy was already behind him. Justin took a startled step backward, but Hardy grabbed the front of his shirt. Justin was small enough that Hardy could have easily lifted him up, but the armor frame on his legs made that nigh impossible. Justin tried his best to shrink away regardless. The look in Hardy's eyes was wild.
"I should kill you and be done with it." Hardy snarled.
The others were watching now. Bethany had an excited, hungry expression, while Gus shifted anxiously on his feet. Matt sat up off the wall, watching his brother.
"Hardy, don't-" He started, but Hardy cut him off.
"Shut up Matt, this freak got Jacob killed, and almost the rest of us along with him!"
Justin locked eyes with Silverado for a moment, silently pleading for her to do something. Instead she watched Hardy with vague caution, but continued cleaning her gun and remained silent.
"I bet you led us into those other raiders on purpose, huh, trying to get rid of us?" Hardy demanded.
Justin shook his head. "I didn't, I swear, I didn't know they were there-"
"Just like you didn't know about that deathclaw? Or the fucking bug nest?"
"How could I have-"
"You said it yourself; 'no one knows the area better than you!'" His lip curled. "You're a pretty good fucking liar, but I'm goddamn tired of being lied to." He drew his laser pistol and Justin heard the sound of the barrel getting jammed into one of the holes in the power armor frame.
That got Silverado's attention. "Hardy-" She said, her voice carrying the hint of a warning.
"Hardy, stop it!" Matt said.
The laser gun zip-crackled, and Justin flinched. There was no pain, but there wouldn't be either way. Hardy stared at him, watching his face. "I fuckin' knew it. You can't tell if I shot you or not." He spat. "We been bein' led around by a fuckin' cripple."
Justin glared back at him. "Call me a cripple again and I'll let the next deathclaw eat you too."
Hardy shook his head, looking at him as if he hadn't quite seen him properly until now. "You're the fucking Devil is what you are."
"Hardy!" Silverado stood, her hands in fists.
Hardy glared at Justin for another moment, and then released his shirt, shoving him back roughly. He turned to look at Silverado, who pointed at the small door beside her.
"Outside, now." She snapped.
"What, you gonna put me in time-out, mom?" Hardy sneered.
"I'll fuckin put a bullet in your mouth, talk to me like that again."
Hardy stomped away, towards the door. Justin stood there, breathing quickly and fighting the urge to look down at himself. Checking to see if he'd actually gotten shot would be admitting that Hardy was right, and he refused to give him the satisfaction. He clenched his fists.
He was not a cripple. Cripples were useless, sad things that needed to be taken care of. He was fine. He didn't need anyone's help. He certainly didn't need anyone's pity - though he doubted he'd find any in his present company. If anything, they'd just think of him as an even easier target. His shoulders tensed. They could try.
Over the rain, Justin heard the sound of Hardy and Silverado arguing, though he couldn't make out the words. Not that he wanted to hear it. He'd heard everything either of them could say a thousand times over. Through the little doorway he saw Silverado standing, her hands on her hips. Hardy was pacing back and forth, kicking at rocks and debris in his path. He caught sight of Justin watching and his shoulders hunched. He slammed his boot into the corner of an overturned shelf, sending some old car parts tumbling over the edge.
The room exploded. Shrapnel flew, embedding itself into the walls. Metal and debris shot through the small doorway, ripping gouges in the concrete and shredding the wooden doorframe. Justin stumbled back, throwing his arms over his head as the building shuddered around them. In the short, quick moments afterward, he looked up, watching dust swirl through the air and listening to the sounds of settling. Then Matt screamed.
"HARDY!" He bolted toward the remains of the door, now a ragged hole in the wall. Justin sprang and grabbed the back of his collar, planting his feet. Matt tried to fight him off, tears welling in his eyes. "No! Let me go! Hardy!"
"Kid- kid! You can't!" Justin struggled to keep a grip on him, until Bethany showed up to assist. She planted a hand on Matt's other shoulder, and together they were able to keep him in place.
"Matt, listen, he's right. You can't go in there, there might be more."
Justin knew if there had been, the explosion would have most likely set them off. He was more worried about the building's structural integrity, but he wasn't about to argue with her. On top of that, she had come to the same cold realization he had. Hardy and Silverado were gone, and all Matt would accomplish by sorting through the mess was just making it worse. Justin knew that all too well.
Matt kept fighting. Tears were flowing freely down his face now, and he stared at Bethany. "Let me go! Please I- I have to- He might-"
Bethany shook her head. "Matt, he's gone." Her voice was quiet. "You know he is."
"I-" His throat tightened, choking out his words. He shook his head, but the defiance on his face was breaking. "Don't say that! You don't know!" His anger was a desperate thing, holding on by a thread. He tried to swing at her, but Justin caught his arm, holding him back. Matt turned on him.
"Fuck you, Scavver! This is your fucking fault!"
Justin didn't respond. Matt wrenched himself back, and Justin let him go, keeping himself between Matt and the rubble. Bethany moved next to him, blocking the path as well. Matt glared at them, his eyes bright and wild. Outside, thunder cracked and the rain became torrential. Justin could see steam in the air from each of Matt's rough exhales. His skin was pale against the dark cloth bandaging his face.
"Matt…" Justin spoke cautiously. "We can't fight right now."
Matt's shoulders tensed, and for a moment it looked like he was going to start screaming. Then the anger broke. He took in a few sharp breaths, wrapping his arms around himself. He stared at the shattered doorway behind them. His face was blank with shock and hopelessness. He looked more than exhausted - he looked defeated.
Without another word Matt turned away. He tottered over to the shelf he'd been using as a chair earlier and sat down, staring into space. Justin's heart went out to the kid. He was young - too young to be caught up in any of this shit, but the world was unkind.
Justin let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and let the tenseness leave his shoulders. He slouched, exhaustion and pain creeping back into his bones, and his eyes dropped to the concrete below. A scorched laser pistol was lying next to the wall beside him. He wondered if it had been Hardy's, or if it had been lying there for decades while the building rotted around it. His scavver's instincts told him to pick it up. Instead he looked away.
In the silence, Justin busied himself with the fire. The temperature had plummeted, and his hands shook as he set the flint and tinder. He looked out into the darkness, and the rain coming down in sheets. Normally he would worry about the light from the fire attracting unwanted attention, but not even sabirs came out when the weather was this bad. The only threat to them tonight was going to be the cold. Pain lanced through his back and he flinched, letting out a small groan. He put a hand on the wall to brace himself, gritting his teeth and breathing heavily. "It's alright… 's alright, it'll pass, it always does…" He told himself. If he'd learned one thing in his 28 years, it was that everything always passed.
The night dragged on. Justin set up near the garage door, pulling a small table into the firelight. He set Lock on it and opened up her chassis, trying to find what all had broken when she'd fallen earlier. He tried to work quietly as both Gus and Bethany bedded down for the night. Matt never moved, and eventually Justin glanced up to find only himself and the kid awake. Justin paused his work, watching Matt across the fire. In the flickering orange glow his eyes looked like hollows in his skull. Justin sighed and put his tools down.
"Kid… you should get some sleep." He said.
Matt blinked and swallowed, but remained silent.
Justin looked away, chewing on his lip. He tried to tell himself he shouldn't get involved, that he was the last person Matt wanted to talk to right now. But he recognized that look on the kid's face, and no one else was going to step up. He had to at least try. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs, and stared into the fire.
"My brother… was 21 when he died." Justin began, quietly. "It wasn't anyone's fault, just a- a freak accident. I remember… thinking that there was no point in trying to go on, after that. Everyone that I cared about, that cared about me, was just… gone. Just like that. Out of the blue." He let out a small, humorless laugh, shaking his head and staring down at his hands in his lap. "I thought, surely there had been some mistake, that I'd lived and he-" His throat got tight and he had to stop for a moment, regaining control of his voice. "He was so much better than me. He was kind, he was strong, god he was so clever, and I was just… a fuck up. Baggage he carted around because he was too nice to tell me to get lost. Even though he should have."
Justin glanced up. Matt hadn't moved, but he could tell that the kid was listening. The bandages on his face shrouded his expression. Justin shook his head, looking out at the rain.
"I can't tell you it gets easier, kid. It doesn't, not really. Even now… almost four years later, sometimes it just hits me. I'll remember some… fucking stupid thing he said once, or some scheme he had… I'll go back home and see the girl he liked, and wonder if he'd have asked her to marry him by now… I wonder if they'd be happy." A sad smile came over his face. "It never really goes away. But I can tell you it gets bearable. It just becomes another weight you carry. And you do it because you know that's what they'd want."
"You didn't know him." Matt's voice was quiet, the slightest hint of defiance, dregs of anger.
"No, I didn't. But I know what it's like to be a big brother. And I know what it's like to lose family. It hurts. It hurts more than you thought possible. But it ain't the end. You shoulder it, and you keep moving."
"How?" Matt's voice was a whisper, barely audible over the crackling of the fire and the pouring rain.
Justin sighed, shaking his head. He stared into the fire, his eyes distant. "You just keep putting one foot in front of the other. And eventually, you find yourself somewhere new."
They fell silent after that. In the distance, thunder rolled again, shaking the building around them. The rain continued to pour in sheets of black that their firelight couldn't penetrate. It made the night seem claustrophobic, as if the world beyond their little garage ceased to exist. Justin wasn't sure what the morning was going to bring. Silverado was gone, and whatever semblance of leadership they'd had died with her. He didn't care what Bethany or Gus did, but he knew the frightened kid across the fire from him didn't belong at Columbia.
"What was his name?" Matt asked. For the first time in hours he looked up. In the dim firelight his eyes were shiny and tired.
Justin smiled sadly, looking down at his hands. "Caleb."
"How did he die?"
Justin stopped smiling. His back ached. "A landslide." He said. "Out in the mountains."
"Is that what…" Matt swallowed nervously, and his eyes flicked to the power armor frame for a small moment. "...happened to your legs?"
Justin put a hand on the cold metal encasing his legs. "Yeah."
"Oh." Matt looked away.
That was the end of the conversation. They fell into silence, crackling fire and steady rain the only things breaking the stillness. Eventually Matt fell asleep, leaned up against the shelf, leaving Justin alone with his thoughts. He got up and threw more wood into the fire, looking out through the sheets of rain. He'd probably have tried to leave, if not for the storm. Cut east, go back toward home. Or at least, the closest thing to home that existed. The Followers were never happy to see him, though they tried their best not to show it. He'd always been the inconvenience, the one who brought trouble with him wherever he went. They tolerated him, sure. That's the most anyone ever did. No one wanted the Black Cat around. Everyone that had ever loved him was dead and gone.
Justin returned to his work table. Lock was laying on it, parts strewn about. He needed to use this time to work on getting her back up. He didn't want to walk into Seatac proper without his scout, and this was going to be the only rest time they had. The thunder from the storm was fading, the time between flashes of lightning lengthening as the night went on. It wasn't going to last much longer. Come sunrise they would be able to move again.
He didn't know how long he sat there staring at the table before a peal of thunder brought him back to the present. He wiped a hand over his face and yawned. "Nope… no work tonight…" He muttered. "You're busted enough as it is… don't need my tired ass making it worse." He scooped up the loose parts and deposited them into one of his tech bags, slinging it up onto the Supercomputer. He clipped Lock's chassis into place, resigned to carrying her the rest of the way. Stock beeped, and Justin shot her a glare.
"No, I'm not going to carry you too. She's in trouble, this is not a good thing."
Stock beeped again. Next to her, Barrel was partially through a slow spin, his laser rifle pointed awkwardly at the ceiling. Justin sighed.
"And to think, I was disappointed about not having kids. What a fool I was." He shook his head and pulled out his bedroll. He slung it open and dust flew, making him cough. He tried to brush as much dirt off it as he could, wondering how the hell it had managed to get this dirty in one day. After all this he might just head home regardless, if only for a bath and to sleep in a real bed for a change.
He undid the clamps on his power armor frame and pulled himself out, going slowly as the muscles in his back tightened and twitched. He let out some small groans and sharp breaths, easing himself over onto the bedroll, which was only marginally more comfortable than the concrete below it. He lied there, gritting his teeth and waiting for the pain to pass. One of his legs was twitching, not of his own volition. That was something people never really understood about paralysis - it wasn't always a clean, neat cut off. He couldn't move his legs, but at odd times and brief moments, he could almost feel them. The nerves where his back had broken were severed in some places, pinched in others, entirely a mess. Most days were okay. He'd refused to give up and become an infirm, and he'd been smart enough to find a way to exist in the wasteland - not just exist, but to live, and to accomplish things no one thought were possible for someone like him.
Other days, when the weather got bad and cold crept into his bones, those old wounds would reignite and turn his insides to fire.
Justin rubbed his leg that was shaking. It was thin and bony. He sighed, opening his eyes and staring up at the crumbling ceiling. "Just one day." He said, and his breath hitched in pain. "Just one more day, I don't think that's too much to ask."
His last realization before drifting into uneasy sleep was that Hardy hadn't actually shot him. The thought was oddly comforting.