Anastasia.
I'm going to be sick. There's no bathroom, no food, no boundaries. The kids on the other side of the fence were all abducted, and they're scared out of their wits. If I get out of here, I'm making sure they all come with me.
Charon.
Charon hurried into the town as soon as he reached the gats, ignoring Lucas calling,
"Where's Ana?" He didn't have time; the trip had already cost him precious hours, the trip back would probably cost more, after he'd gotten all his supplies. He burst into the house to find Wadsworth cheerfully serving Betty Mirelurk cakes.
"We have a visitor, Master Charon!"
Anastasia.
She was talking to the kids through the fence, now. The oldest one, Squirrel he called himself, was trying to take care of the other two, but Sammy, one of the younger two, was the most trusting, slave to slave, although they all feared adults in general.
"I saw a power box over by where they eat. If we could turn that off, then our collars will no longer work."
"Don't worry, kids. My friend Charon is coming to save us; He'll be here soon, I promise." Anastasia sat down, squeezing Sammy's hand through the fence reassuringly, praying that Charon was coming for her, that those forty-eight hours wasn't being spent getting as far away from her as possible.
Charon.
He called Dogmeat at the same time Betty stood up.
"Charon…"
"Here boy, here, Dogmeat!" Dogmeat scrambled down the stairs, and Charon felt around the inside of his collar, fumbling; his fingers were shaking with adrenaline and anger.
"Charon, please, listen to me, I made a mistake!" Betty cried, her silky dress swishing as she took a step toward him. Charon slid the key from the collar and drew his shotgun in one fluid movement.
"This isn't my house, so don't think I'll hesitate to blow you all over it."
Anastasia.
So one of these guys was crazy, one was depressed, but most of the slaves were just waiting, accepting their fate.
"Guys, we're getting out of here, soon, but I'll need your help."
"What's the point? Even If we do get out of here, where would we go? We're dead meat anyway." Depressed guy says. She ignores him.
"I don't have a watch, dear. You could ask somebody else for the time." Crazy guy replies, talking to the wall. She dismisses him as well. The others are in.
"My friend is coming to bail us out. He'll get these gates open, and then I'll sneak over and turn off the power supply to these collars. After that we'll provide cover fire for you, so you can get out of here."
"Hey! No talking, slave meat!" Forty calls through the fence.
Anastasia winks.
Charon.
He moves quickly up the stairs, unlocking the bottom drawer of her file cabinet found a couple of recordings, a recorder, and a huge bag of caps. He stared. Anastasia chose to live in a shithole shack here and she had over twenty thousand caps stashed away.
He lifted it up then saw something at the bottom of the drawer: a torn, raggedy corner of an old piece of paper. The bottom of the drawer was false, and in the hidden compartment contained his contract, his freedom.
"Charon?" Betty was standing in the doorway. He noticed her eying all of Anastasia's belongings, her personal photos, stuff she hardly allowed him to see, much less her. He felt angry.
Standing up and shoving the caps into his bag, he kicked the drawer close, hearing the false bottom into place, sealing him away from his contract. "Charon, please, don't ignore me!"
"Wadsworth! This woman is an intruder!" Charon exclaimed loudly.
"I say!" Wadsworth exclaimed, and Betty screamed, running for the door as her dress got singed, the burst of flame from the robot's flamer only just missing her. Charon spat into the trashcan on his way downstairs.
Good riddance.
Anastasia.
After a few hours, a lot of the male slavers had stopped by, and Anastasia had learned three new cuss words, six new sex positions, and been threatened in thirty-seven ways. She curled up in a corner, and Sammy sat next to her on the other side of the fence.
"You know, I thought all mungos were alike, but I think you'd probably fit in okay at Little Lamplight. When we get out of here, will you come visit us?" He whispered to her; the other two kids were asleep.
"I'll walk you guys home, but I don't think Charon likes kids that much. He's kind of scary looking too. He might frighten some of the little ones."
"But he's still a person, isn't he?"
"Yes, Sammy. I guess we shouldn't judge people like that." Anastasia said, and felt, for the first time since she'd left the vault, that perhaps there was some hope for the future wasteland yet.