Chapter two: Fluorescent Adolescent
Atomic kisses laced the earth. Again the rising morning sun swirled the place in a blue grasp. I was outside the Museum of American History. Sitting on the steps. My gas mask was taken off. Breathing in some cold air and enjoyed what little peace there was. Cold washed over my face and flooded around my body. I leaned back on my elbows and laid my head on the step.
Before returning back to HQ we decided to stay in The Underworld. Get some rest and eat. The Underworld was a place of ghouls. Humans, exposed to massive amounts of radiation. Causing their skin to flake and peal off. They were generally nice to us. Considering we were foreign soldiers with intimidation written all over us. We were from another planet but I don't think they really knew that. They never did ask many questions. The Ninth Circle was a dingy bar inside the Underworld. Everyone drank and talked and had a good time. The first time in a long time I got to know some of the people I've been working with. All very nice but he was right. I am a freak compared to them.
Who I grew up to know as my brothers and sisters were all stronger than me. Mentally and physically. I never opened my mouth about the second thoughts I had. Just listened to their conversations. Deserters were to be shot – I knew that. But this was too much. Anything would be better than fighting with these people. I did not belong here fighting for something that only drove me insane. I've been doing fine without my mask. My lungs have not been hurting since I've taken it off. Which was last night. It gave me some thoughts about certain things but I didn't want to believe them. Didn't want to think about it.
"So long."
To leave was to never come back. I had to abandon all that they poured into the minds of millions. Helghan is an evil force. I don't want to be a part of it anymore.
"Where do you think you're going, girl?"
LaMante's voice was gentle but had an underlying tone of 'You're in trouble.' He was the teacher and I was the small child who had drawn on the walls in marker. I couldn't speak and only hoped he was either heavily intoxicated or just didn't care. My feet kept walking. Kept making that scuffing noise of dreary steps.
"You can go Molyneux. But you bet your sorry ass if we find you, you're dead! Dead as this god forsaken hell!"
The heavy door to the Museum slammed with a thud, and I was free. Free to leave all this behind. I did not need these clone clothes or this personality nullifying gas mask. What I needed was to be untrained. All the tight knit cloths that enveloped my mind torn apart piece by piece and knitted back together. I left my gas mask and most of my gear. It was time to start new and begin a life that I've so longed for. Even though I was tired. I had to go. Just walk. I began with a map that I swiped from one those ghoul types. Needed to take the metro tunnels to get into The Wasteland.
The tunnels were, like everything else, destroyed. Fought a-many malformed irradiated creatures. Insane gang members. I even ran into a few walls because it was so dark. Without my gas mask and goggles to illuminate my vision, I was sort of lost. None the less my new found senses of sight and smell were beginning to turn like gears. Rusty gears they may be. But I didn't die and only came out of it with a few scrapes and bruises. The Wasteland I assumed was like a very hot chessboard. My skin simply would burn to a crisp if I didn't have my cape. Which I kept my hood up over my face. I could only assume what I looked like. I needed a mirror. I needed a home. I needed somewhere to recollect myself.
Megaton was a scrap city. With a big metal scrap gate that opened up to let me in. A robot greeted me at the outside entrance. I was right about The Wasteland; bright, hot, sweaty. The middle of the day sprayed the whole place with a sense of hopelessness. Dust kicked up around me every time I took a step. My clothes in general had a sort of thick layer of grime. Though I was protected from the sun's rays and that's all I wanted.
Megaton had many people. It was almost surprising. I began to survey the place when I noticed the little voice inside my head hadn't said anything in a while. If I thought about it too long I'm sure he would show up soon enough. The rifle slung around on my back was starting to get noticeably heavy and I desperately needed a bed. Not a floor like I had to fall asleep on back at Helghan's makeshift outpost. Sleeping on the cold hard cement made my muscles ache. Curled up against someone else helped only a little but it was still a horrible situation. I needed a real bed. It didn't even have to be good. Just as long as it was in fact a bed.
"You don't look like you belong here – but it ain't none a my business. I'm Lucas Simms. The Sheriff and Mayor of this here Megaton."
Lucas Simms. A cowboy hat. Various clothes adorned him. A heavy jacket made of tough material to top it all off. Tough skin and a few gray strands of hair in his beard. That he seemed to trim every once and a while.
"Mr. Simms. Let me please introduce myself." My eloquent voice smoothed its way into the air. I always seemed to have a knack for talking. One of the teachers at the Academy told me I had the voice of a leader. The voice to sooth a thousand souls. I was taught to be polite and considerate to those who have authority. I was a slave to the power of
the higher. It was programmed in me. Like a robot. Mr. Simms seemed to be taken aback by my politeness. His eyes stared straight into mine. Another thing that was programmed into me was the ability to look someone square in the eye. Unwavering.
"My name is Molyneux."
"Your business is none of mine. You come off as a decent enough person, with all that fancy gear," He gestured to my rifle and clothes. "you seem to be doin' just fine. If ya need anythin' just holler."
"Thank you. I have a need to ask where I could rest?"
"Well, there's Moriarty's Saloon. On the top of that hill. You have caps don't ya?"
The confusion consumed my face.
I figured you would be like an alien." He sighed. Reached into his pocket and pulled out a considerable amount of caps. "I don't know why I like ya girl but take this. Should be enough to get you some food and a bed for the night."
To say I was insulted would be an understatement. I was never to be pitied. Never given sympathy. This man was treating me like some sort of feral baby that needed it's mother.
This was just Helghan talking. Needing help is what most Wastelanders were like. I didn't have any caps and that was the currency, so with shaky hands I took them. The only thing I couldn't do was pay Mr. Simms back. For something to be taken something in equal exchange had to be restored. It just wouldn't be right for me to take these rusty bottle caps. Though I would have to respect him enough to thank him.
"I appreciate the charity. I truly do. But I do not have any way of paying you back.
"Come see me tomorrow. I'll find you some work or someone you can help 'round town. Now go get some sleep. Have you looked in the mirror recently? You look more awful than the average Wastelander."
"Thank you for letting me off so easy. It's not usually something that happens to me."
Mr. Simms nodded and let me be on my way. I had a feeling this would be the only kind soul I would meet.
But it was just a feeling.
Moriarty's had the most eerie sense of quietness when I walked in. The place reeked of alcohol and some sort of smoky smell. The ghoul bartender greeted me. Radio static stung my ears. I desperately wanted to turn it off but thought of it rude. "What can I get ya?" I looked around the room before sitting. An awkward silence between me and the bartender thickened. Before my drowsiness could let me speak I noticed what that smoky smell was. Someone had a white stick like inhalant. It was small like a pen. Though much shorter. It burned my lungs and stung my senses. Either lung burn from not wearing my mask had set in or that death stick that man was breathing just generally hurt my sensitive lungs.
I had to get away from it.
"Hey, smoothskin."
Snapped back. I jerked my heads towards the ghoul.
"What can I get ya?"
"A bed to sleep in."
He chuckled out a "That's very direct. A hundred caps. You want anything to drink before you go to bed?"
"No, thank you."
I tossed him the caps and had a little leftover for when I wake up to have something to eat. Because I had stupidly left most of my gear and such back in D.C.
"Head on up to the very last door. Here's the key."
I jogged up the stairs by two. In a hurry to sleep. In a hurry to forget about my troubles for only a little bit. When I got into the small room I took off my shoes. Pulled off my cape along with the rest of my clothes. Only left in my very clean white undershirt that draped off my frame and underwear. I flopped down on the bed. I could care less that the blanket was almost like cardboard. Could care less that the bed was just as bad as sleeping on the floor. I was in a bed and for a moment it felt like I was back on Helghan in the soft clean beds in the air conditioned rooms. The spotless marble floors. All of it coming together to make a rather pleasurably life style for a few years.
I fell asleep thinking of the good times.
Because I say so.
Huh.
Beecauseee I sssssay so.
You?
No.. Dear..
Darkness clouded around my room when I woke up. I felt rested. Ready. Alive. And for some reason I felt like I had to move. A certain homesick feeling ran through my mind. My mind was slow and I was thinking backwards. I put my pants on and opened the door to the main room of Moriarty's. The same quietness. But this time no one was up except a gray haired sun tanned middle aged man. He was leaning over the bar reading a letter of some sort. Quiet almost non existent barefoot steps never stirred his silent reading. Only the small movements from his lips as he scoured the words.
He took a double take at me as I stood a few feet away from the bar. For some reason this man made me hesitant to even say a thing. He didn't break the locked stare. And for once someone made my eyes turn away just for a few seconds. Like someone does when they're lying. My arms at my side in a limp fashion. Body standing in a cornered response. The man turned to his letter and his voice softened a "Come sit."
I did as I was told like a trained dog.
"What's your name lass?"
"Molyneux."
"How old are you?"
A tough question to answer since I didn't know. I figured I was maybe in my early twenties. Maybe nineteen. I was the second youngest in my squad and the youngest looked about the same age as me.
"Twenty one."
His face turned sour. "No need to be lyin'."
I'm not just going to out right and say where I was from and try to explain that my society didn't allow for such pointless things as birthdays. I think the best thing to do was just be quiet. Because when you don't say anything people usually assume the worse – right now I didn't need to say too much. Just hope that this man would have maybe a little bit of understanding in him. He didn't look like it.
But he decided to take the silent route also.
I adjusted in the stool and ran my hands over my head. I had hair. I refused to notice it yesterday because of lack of sleep and just plain exhaustion of the mind. It was short and felt greasy. I kept running my fingers through it until the man started to speak up.
"Molly? You want anything to eat while I'm up?"
"What do you have?"
"How many caps do you got?"
The little caps I did have I dropped on the messy counter. He took them without question and began to prepare me something.
"You never did tell me your name." I piped up. Gaining just enough courage.
"Well, lass, I own this here place you're sittin' in."
"Mr. Moriarty.."
"Colin Moriarty. But please, call me whatever you wish."
Colin. What a lovely name. Clank and clicks of dishes bounded. Colin put a yellow substance in a bowl in front of me. "Eat up." He cheerfully exclaimed. Putting my finicky self behind, I took a bite. After all – food was food.
It didn't taste that bad. Earth food that is. It was actually quite tasty! I looked up to see Mr. Moriarty again reading the letters. I wanted to know what was so interesting about them. A distant lover maybe? A friend who needed something?
"What are you reading?"
"You're nosy."
Again, I backed down to him.
I finished whatever was in the bowl and yawned. Outstretching my hands and releasing the aches. Pops cackled from my joints and I felt good for the first time since I got here. Mr. Moriarty was still reading those letters. Was he rereading them or just a slow reader? The more I looked at him the more infatuated I became. The more I wanted to know. A weird feeling of wanting to be protected by him flooded my mind. It wasn't in my nature and it scared me. He was mean and that was good. He didn't like my company and he shouldn't. He was there to take my caps and that was it. Nothing more.
I pattered back off to my room as quietly as I left. Mr. Moriarty didn't say a word.
The same room greeted my eyes. The small pile of clothes on the floor. My rifle leaned up against a wall. My pistol sat upon the nightstand. I curled back up under my blanket and thought about Colin.
I've felt this feeling for Captain Marlowe but didn't think about it much. I've always thought of it as an admiration rather than affection. More like an infatuation rather than a wanting. Marlowe only showed any interest in me one time – when we were at the Academy. I was sitting at the top of some stairs when he passed by. He told me that I did good today. He had the most amazing eyes when he was relaxed. They were probably filled with rage when he heard about me being a deserter. I didn't even want to think about what I had done. The shame would over take me if I let it.
I'm not a Helghast. This air does not hurt my lungs. What happened? I'm so confused.
Back to Colin. Colin. Colin. Colin. I can't wait to see him tomorrow.
I'm sitting on the edge of a cliff in a hot desert.
And even though I'm going to fall.. everything is going to be okay.
"You're from a vault?"
"Yeah. I already explained it to you."
"I know, I know. It's just fascinating to learn about this planet's history."
"This planet? What do you mean?"
This is why I don't like to let my guard down. This is why the training of my leaders and officers are forced. Because it keeps you from being stupid. It keeps you alive. Had to think. Had to lie.
Tell the truth.
"I-It's hard to explain."
"Don't be stupid, I told you all about my fucked up life. I think it's your turn."
I lowered my voice. "The Brotherhood of Steel have made it oh so evident that there's a new threat to The Wasteland. The Helghasts."
"You mean-"
"It's rude to interrupt someone while they're talking."
"You're with them?"
"I said it was rude to unterru-"
"Shut up, I don't give a fuck where you're from. As long as you don't try to kill me."
The woman I was talking to was in a blue jumpsuit that had a big '101' plastered on the back in yellow numbers. She had red hair that clung to her face. Freckles on her nose. Big green eyes. A very sharp face but she wasn't ugly. She was very pleasant to look upon. Her wiry hands grasped her alcohol filled glass and she drunk it through out our conversation. She said her name was Sylvia Neeson. I told her mine and she just stuck to calling me Molly – like Colin had done the night before.
Oh, back to him. I saw him this morning when he left. Still didn't have enough courage to say anything. I should just forget about him. Just forget that stupid feeling. It's just an infatuation. It's just an interest. I shouldn't follow anymore into it.
Sylvia was looking for her father. She seemed resistant to it. Like she didn't actually want to but it was like someone was forcing her. Maybe it was just curiosity. It was like that – it was someone sticking a gun to your head and telling you to do something you don't really want to. I listened to her as she formed words with her mouth. Talking about her father, life in the vault, and other personal affiliations. She seemed to open right up – but maybe the alcohol had something to do with it. I seemed to draw in these kinds of people. The ones that will just spill their life story out to you. I liked it. I liked listening. I didn't like to talk very much. Just stay in my own mind while the others talked and commanded me around.
No questions asked.
"I'm leaving tomorrow for Rivet City. I don't have anyone to come with me."
She left the bait out but my personality didn't take it.
"You could come along if you want – you seem like a lost cause to me." She continued to explain more.
True. I didn't know what I was doing. All my life I've lived for someone else's needs. It was still killing to get somewhere but taking a life was like second nature to me. It was instinct. It was what I was raised to be. Just a predator on a leash.
"I won't be like none of them stinky strict army types that you're used to. You can do whatever you want."
She did more convincing.
I'm not sure I will be the best fighter. I was good in hand to hand combat. My mask and goggles helped a lot with my senses and without it I'm afraid I would be useless with my sniper rifle. I decided to jump in and suck it up.
"I have nothing to lose."
"Fantastic!" She charismatically jumped from her seat. "Meet me here tomorrow, and we'll be on our way!"
She was almost in a skip out the door. Whistling. I giggled at her dramatics. Sylvia, to me at least, was truly an amazing person. I was excited to leave with her. Even though I didn't know what what a Rivet City was.
Colin walked through the door. Just at that moment. Colin of all people. More thinking for me to do. I instantly went into a secluded stature. If I didn't pay any attention maybe he would just go away.
"Molly, my dear girl, if you're not going to stay another night. You best be getting your shit from my room or pay up some more caps."
There's a word for this kind of feeling. I couldn't name it at the moment.
"Mr. Moriarty. Please excuse my carelessness."
"Oh lighten up!"
His touch on my shoulder sent lightning bolts through my body. His hands were rough with dirt and calluses but it all fit him perfectly.
"It's just business!"
I wish I knew the name of that word to describe this sort of emotion.