Chapter Five: Initialization
If I was being frank… I don't know what I expected at first. Would I be afraid? Would I be angry? I couldn't tell you in the slightest. Sure, I had fond memories of Pre-War America, but I had long since shifted focus to surviving. After that, the rigors of training had rightfully taken that place.
Still… As I peered out into the expansive void of smoke, it felt as if something precious had been shaken to it's core.
Ulysses had met us with a warm smile, although I could see he was still recovering from the events of today. If he was still feeling any guilt, he hid it well. Instead, he nodded in a gesture to his conference room and assumed his usual no-nonsense demeanor. I had always admired his strength of character, more-so because I knew the sadness that hid behind that iron will. So, as he stoically sat across from us and templed his fingers I could feel my determination to succeed reinvigorate.
Once we were seated, Ulysses gave the ghost of a smile and succinctly powered the projector unit next to him. The result was a dim image of a slide titled Liberty Unit Debrief in a bold, easy to read font. Underneath of the title was a line of photos of each of us that the science team had taken shortly after our release from the cryo-sims and our subsequent unit numbers. The slide also had the "Classified, Overseer Access Only" stamp in the top right corner.
Ulysses wasted no time pressing the button on his wired remote and the next slide rolled into view. This one was a map of our surrounding area. I could see the markers and notations that Battlehorn had made, which pointed out various post-war settlements and zones of conflict. Ulysses cleared his throat quietly and turned his attention to us.
"Denoted here is a map of the surrounding wasteland. We can thank your previous comrades for collecting the various sets of data shown, however they are dated at a year and we have not received any more correspondence to date."
Moving on, the third slide showed a bullet list. I could practically smell Powell's fingers on it, as it was filled with a smattering of less than tasteful buzz-words and unforgiving commands.
"Per regulation, I am required to ensure that each of you are fully informed of the extent of these orders…" Ulysses continued in a dead-pan tone, only pausing for a moment before clicking the slide button once more, "Although I severely doubt the need, considering that there's probably a tattoo in your brains of the exact same directive."
He got a few chuckles out of us, before we turned our attention to the next slide. This one was definitely made by Ulysses. I could immediately recognize his methodical rhetoric behind his carefully crafted tips and directives. It wasn't hard to assume that he had compiled Battlehorn's data to issue warnings, persons-of-interest, and recommendations.
"Now I'm not going to bore you with what you can read, or already know," He said with a knowing nod my way, "So I'll just summarize; your main objective is to initiate contact with the organization previously encountered by Battlehorn. We believe that they may be able to assist us in liberating the others in our charge."
The Overseer proceeded to another of his own slides, which carried even more information gathered by both their scanners and the data-packets.
"I am aware that you cannot ignore the brainwashing that you have suffered, but above all else I beg that you do your best to stay safe…" Ulysses, once again, looked as if he wanted to say more. While he may have desired to continue, we all knew he didn't have to. He had done more than enough to show that he cared deeply for our unit, and his words would only serve to reaffirm old news.
"It may be an exercise in futility, but are there any questions?"
When he was met with polite 'no's he closed his eyes for a moment and struggled to put on a brave smile, "Understood. As of 1315, I declare Liberty unit to be in action… Godspeed."
The moment had finally come, and I knew we were ready. Still, it seemed like Ulysses desired to prolong it for just a few minutes longer. As the others filed out to make the parade through the atrium towards the vault door, the Overseer motioned for me to approach him.
"Audrey, I want you to have something." He announced clearly, despite the finality of the gesture. As Ulysses walked me over to his seat, I could tell that he was doing his best to hide his face. I didn't begrudge him, and waited with a soft smile. He knelt and grabbed a black case before turning to face me.
"Open it, I'm sure you will like it." Ulysses smiled lightly as he handed it to me. It was a hand-gun case, Barretta, a French made unit. I unclasped the case and opened to find a weathered, but perfectly maintained 92X.
"Theodore's service gun… You couldn't tell, but the man had a flare for the dramatic." Ulysses recounted warmly, watching me as I placed the case on the table and tested the gun, "Before he passed, he made the request that you'd receive it if we weren't able to succeed in time."
I'm sure I was probably beaming, because it felt like the side-arm was meant to be in my hands. Ulysses was right, the 92X was mostly a competition pistol, but it seemed that Theodore had made modifications to fortify the handgun for the rigors of combat.
Ulysses's smile widened and added, "I made sure to include the ammunition in your outfitting requisition, as well as a proper cleaning kit. Can't have you out there with no way to shoot the thing."
He surprised me by then enveloping me in a tight embrace, "I will miss your company Audrey, be safe."
I could only nod into his shoulder and suppress the threat of tears falling onto Theodore's gift.
Just like that, my unit was standing at attention in front of the massive steel door that stood between us and the wasteland. Despite our efforts to bid everyone farewell earlier, almost the entire vault had filed into cramped entryway. I suppose it didn't feel too bad for having such a warm send-off. The piercing screech of the door going through it's duty cycle was jarring, but served as an almost poetic punctuation to our time in Vault 009.
It took every fiber of my being to keep my chin high as I listened to the cheers and well-wishes of the adults alongside the crying and sniffling of the younger residents. Unlike our predecessors, our unit had the privilege of getting to know Vault 009 extensively. I couldn't explain why our situation was so different, but the resulting bonds and friendships rang loudly in the echos that followed us throughout the dimly lit passage to the surface.
Even when the abrupt screeching of the vault door cut off their cheers, the fondness of Vault 009 permeated my soul and made the prospect of an irradiated wasteland just that much more bearable. Who knows, maybe the abrupt severing of our connection could work in Ulysses's favor. The wheels of a civilian republic could turn away from this despicable program…
Because, at the end of the day, fifty kids were being sent out to face death and destruction on an ungovernable scale.
The rationalist in me dutifully reminded me that guilt only went so far, but I held onto hope out of spite. It took more than that to break our wills.
I'm unsure if was due to our conditioning or just the endless years that we had to prepare, but our final steps into the big bad wasteland were… horrendously anti-climactic. Of course, the atomic scars of war had yet to fade, and the unnatural miasma that blanketed every facet of our new environment certainly didn't look healthy. Yet, the only thing I could think in this moment was,
Is this really it?
Obviously, as soon as the thought crossed my mind, a sting of explosions and gunfire rang out from our north-east at what seemed to be about eight and a half klicks out.
"Now that's the welcome I expected." I chuckled, realizing I had spoken my thoughts aloud. I got quiet chuckles in return as the others donned their helmets and connected their comms to the short-wave network. We didn't have any plans on separating out more than the few yards our recon formation required, but it was just plain common sense to set things up now.
"Ye' got that right boss!" May guffawed lightly before assuming a more serious tone, "Sounds like a good time fer' orders, what'er we doing?"
I nodded in affirmation and tested my comms unit with my first order topside, "Well, we aren't gonna complete our objective any time soon, so we're going to recon that firefight. If there are any civilians that need help, we're a go for contact. Weapons free, effective immediately."
In an instant, the switch triggered in our little hive-mind and Liberty melded into the lethal killing machine it was forged in blood and fire to become. With little resistance, we set into a steady run due west until we hit what remained of the 390 and changed our heading north. It took about an hour and a half all said and done, mainly due to the rough terrain we had to navigate on the derelict highway. All the while, the firefight seemed to persist. Whatever parties involved seemed to be proficient enough to maintain a stalemate.
When the ruins of Rochester came into view, we slowed our pace to scan the battlefield. The once beautiful city was a far-cry from it's former glory, but it seemed that the bombs were dropped far enough away for it to at least appear habitable. I kept my senses attuned for any more activity, but Damien was the first to clue in on the conflict zone.
"Three o'clock, looks to be an industrial district. The hospital." He spoke in a hushed, steady tone. I could see him rack a round from the corner of my eye, and I quietly reveled in the following string of clicks as the others followed suit. I stepped forward a few paces and turned to face my unit,
"Alright, I figured as much, but it's an urban battle. We'll be taking formation E-2. Dame, Mari, locate an over-watch point. Matt, May, you're on me. May, you're on point."
Everyone nodded succinctly, and preemptively moved into our formation groupings. With nothing left to do but act, we started for the city post-haste. Within minutes, we were four blocks out from the hospital. Damien wordlessly pointed to a long-closed hotel duplex that stood two stories taller than our target. Nodding, I watched he and Mari split off and disappear into the jumble of buildings. Once we were within two blocks of the hospital, I had my team hold and observe the destroyed street from cover.
We didn't find any contacts, but still I maintained the order to wait.
"~ 01, this is over-watch,~" Damien's voice rang clear in my earpieces, "~Sorry about the wait, had some company. 03 let me sit back and enjoy the show…~"
I was glad to see that our first taste of combat didn't override too much to dampen our spirits. While unavoidable as a whole, it was nice to finally parse out the extent of our programming.
"~01, we are in position. Repeat, over-watch is in position. Watch out for falling bandits."
Allowing myself a short chortle at Damien's remark, I raised my fist and gestured a forward for the others to fall into a rolling V formation as we neared the hospital's entryway. Once we were close to the doorway, Matthew and May tightened their spacing to just under a yard off of each of my flanks. Operating the user-interface for my helmet from my PipBoy, I enabled the thermal sensors and peered into the massive reception room. From what my sensors could see, there was a large group of combatants still on the first floor. They were spread out, but a small three-man squad seemed to be looting a mess of bodies that were quickly loosing their thermal signatures. It took me a moment to realize, but I spotted one combatant cleaving a corpses genitals off before stuffing them in the body's mouth and cleaving the head. I could only assume this was some sort of trophy ritual. This was also enough for me to determine that these marauders qualified as a hostile party.
"Alright 02, ring their fucking doorbell…" I intoned softly, watching as May's armor clad form sauntered into the doorway before four rapid dthunks broke the near silence of the hospital. I couldn't see her face, but I knew that May was grinning from ear to ear. Just as quickly as they were despensed, four deafening explosions filled the room. Not even waiting for the smoke to settle, Matthew and I followed May in to sweep the reception hall as our mystery enemies clambered out of the hallways and triage rooms. They were met with eviscerating laser bolts or tight groupings of lead, either way they didn't put up much of a challenge. It didn't help that their disorganized charge led straight through multiple bottle-necks.
Just as Matt placed three concise shots into the skull of an idiot charging him with a flaming sword, I heard the suppressed super-sonic crack of Damien's rifle. It was nice to know that he had found some fun headhunting. After his initial shot, Dame continued with a steady tempo of high grain carnage. He had definitely found his groove early, with the speed of his shots making you feel like he might be favoring lead down range than accuracy. I'm not a betting woman, but I'd confidently wager that we'd find a perfect line of bodies in the wake of his expert trigger finger.
"~01, second floor is clear. The rest of the bandits are located on the fifth and sixth, don't have a good sight line. 03 and 05 relocating to the roof of the hospital, there's a collapsed crane that spans to the neighboring building. Don't be late.~" Damien reported over the comms as his string of firing ceased.
"02, clear the left wing. 04, clear the right. Let's finish up here and get to the top. Can't let those hot-heads have all the fun!" I shouted, bounding up the steps to the second floor to find the nearest stairwell. I didn't have to look to see if the others had broke, as I soon heard the recognizable profiles of their weapons discharging. So far, it had been more like a turkey shoot. Which was fine, knowing that there were much more capable foes out there.
I was able to weed out a few stragglers in the main building as I climbed the floors, before taking refuge in an abandoned conference room that was well suited for me to defend in case May and Matthew took their time. Thankfully, they wasted just as little time as I had, and were on my position within minutes.
"03, 05, group 1 is in position. Sitrep for over-watch?" I radioed the others as I refreshed my ammunition quietly before pulling Theodore's handgun out. Things were gonna get up close and personal from here on out.
"~01, over-watch is in position, found some friendlies ready to give our bandit's hell. A couple took some pot-shots, but we explained the situation well enough. Ready for some minced meat boss?~"
"Affirmative, 02 just confirmed charge placement. The detonation will serve as the signal to serve up our surprise." I shot back, before counting May down from ten. She may have detonated at two, but the result was still just as effective. Storming up the stairwell once more, I only had a breath to dive to the wall as a burst of sub-machine gun fire tore through the space I was just occupying. Reacting on a dime, I sunk two shots directly into my attacker's exposed sternum. Not hearing any hits on May or Matthew, I surged up the stairs and disposed of any would-be attackers to make up for the faux pas.
While the explosive charges certainly thinned the herd, it took longer than I would have liked to clear the fifth floor. I subconsciously noted that the quality of our opponents had gone up just a tick from before. It also seemed like our attack had succeeded in drawing the forces on the sixth floor away from the roof access door. I took a strange pleasure in hearing the cries of alarm as the group on the roof truly got into tightening the vise we had on the last mass of enemies. I had just stormed out of the sixth floor stairwell when Mari shouted over the comms,
"~Trouble! Looks like a bastardized T-series chassis. Be advised, enemy is in possession of a guided missile launcher. Fucker's eating up bullets too!"
Shit, that certainly threw a wrench in the operation. Although I'm glad Mari had forewarned us, because we then had enough time to find cover as a missile javelined into the floor of the main hallway. It tore chunks out of the building and spewed shrapnel haphazardly in every direction. I was about to send an order out when May suddenly shouted,
"05, line up a shot on the access panel. Should be a fusion core smack dab in the middle."
Her advice was sound, but that still left the much more capable group of enemies to deal with. They had enough organization to create flanking positions and were starting to pin both groups down with well-placed covering fire. I looked to the others who were behind cover on the opposite side of the hallway and shouted over the din,
"04, fall back and deal with your flankers! 02, distract that bastard long enough for 05 to make the shot!" I ordered, before mirroring Matt and sprinting back to vault though an already decimated window. It didn't take long for me to hear the impressive sound of May's LMG tearing down the hallway. I didn't have much time to enjoy it before I was back to firing my own side-arm.
Somehow, I could hear May shout over everything, "Go to hell ya motherfuckers!"
It was like she had just conducted the closing note of a grand symphony. With her reckless abandon, she seemed to call fourth an earth shattering explosion that shook the whole building with enough force to knock me sideways into a crumbling gurney. I was back on my feet just in time to see Mariana leap onto the back of a fleeing combatant and sink two karambits into his body. One laterally through his spine, and the other diagonally though his carotid. With a quick scan, I could see the remnants of the enemy force being whittled down to nothing and allowed myself a brief sigh.
Well damn, that's about a good a welcome as we can get…
I let out a dry chuckle and radioed the others to meet up with the lucky survivors of this unfortunate raid. Within minutes, we found ourselves huddled around a newly kindled fire with smiling faces and strange food boiling in a sauce-pan beaten well beyond it's years. As it turned out, we had stumbled into a contract mercenary group that hailed out of the D.C. Metropolitan area. Specifically and expeditionary force under the brand of "Reilly's Rangers." Their combat armor was the base model that ours were designed around. In total, they came to the New York wastes with twelve souls. Now only five sat with us around our little camp fire on the roof of the hospital.
They were drained, battered, and grieving but as I looked at their faces and listened as they shared their exploits I could still feel their strong determination to push forward. As they explained it, the expeditionary force was exclusively voluntary. Due to the high-risk high-reward nature of the operation, a bulk of their bodies were recruits trying to make a name for themselves. They had lost a few veterans, and all but one recruit. It wasn't long after the adrenaline began to fade that we properly introduced ourselves. The leader, burley as an ox and almost just as tall, spoke first
"Ah, since ya saved our bacon, the least we can do is introduce ourselves." The lead Ranger chuckled with a broad, grimy smile, "The name's Emmet, but my call-sign is Lennon. I'm the commanding officer of this fine troupe, and I also double as our engineer."
The ranger next to him spoke in a subdued voice, "I'm Travis, call-sign Harrison. Infiltration and computer specialist…" He mumbled, his wispy, unkempt beard almost submerged in the stew that was apparently dinner. Granted, it looked like he needed it. He was lean to the point that one could categorically call hims scrawny. Still, he had survived out here up to this point so I imagined he was good at his job.
"GAHAHAH! Ye gotta lighten up Trav, no wonder everyone thinks yer so sullen. Ye got a attitude that could drop a brahmin!" The Ranger next in line belly-laughed and heavily slapped Travis on the back. With his helmet off, his bald head glistened with sweat and a bulk of his sizable salt and pepper beard had streams of food flowing freely. He took one more deep swig of stew before continuing, "Ahaha! It's a pleasure to meet y'all, nevermind teh fact ye look like damn deamhans! Anyhoo, Jacob Shay at yer service… Ah! But call me McCartney, if ye don't mind!"
His infectious laughter was quick to catch on, and soon the entire group was sharing in his vast merriment. It seemed that he and May were cut from the same cloth. Once the jokes between the Rangers died down, the recruit took a tentative clearing of her throat and looked to us, "Thank you for stepping in when you did, despite how these numskulls try to play it down you really did save us."
She shook her head and continued, "I'm the newbie, so I don't have a call-sign yet. My name is Alexandria, I—"
Alexandria was cut off by Emmet, who interjected with a loud, "Aww hell no!"
He shook his head emphatically and reached into his travel bag with equal gusto. He pulled out a pair of items and motioned for Alexandria to stand. He marched up to her and slapped the first down onto her chest-plate violently. Once Alexandria had regained her footing, he then presented her with what looked to be a pin that matched her now drying "Reilly's Rangers" crest on her armor.
"You got another thing coming if you think you haven't earned your stripes, ain't no damn way." Emmet bellowed to the sky, practically challenging any other souls in the city to come and get him. For now, it appeared that his challenge went unanswered.
"Welcome to the Rangers, Starr…" Emmet bowed his head, before giving Alexandria a round of applause that was immediately backed by the other Rangers.
"I…Er— Thank you sir." Alexandria said in a more subdued voice.
It was then that I had another revelation today…
"Wait, you've gotta be fucking kidding me…" I trailed off, unable to stop the giggle that began to erupt from my chest, "Seriously? The Beatles?"
"Why of course lassy! Best thing that came out of cesspool of a nation 'fore shit got blown to hell and back!" Jacob guffawed and slapped his knee even more emphatically that even Emmet would've been able to produce. He wiped a sweaty tear from his eye and extended a hand to us, " 'Nuff about us, what about y'all? Never seen kiddos yer age handle yerselves so well. Hell, Starr's got ya beat by six years!"
Now that the attention was turned on us, I barked a short chuckle and shrugged. This led to us giving the Rangers the same treatment they had us. We explained our situation, seeing no reason to hide it. We did forgo including Vault 009's location, but after getting truly into it the Rangers remained quiet with rapt attention. Once I had made it to the events of today, the adults sat for a full minute and studied us. Emmet was the first to speak,
"W-Wow… Alright, I guess that explains… everything."
"Wait, so you mean you've been conscious for over two centuries!?" Travis incredulously questioned, seeming to be unable to control his usually quiet volume.
It was almost annoying, having lived through every year and then some, but I couldn't fault him for doubting the feasibility of anything within our already experienced possibilities. I gave him a short nod and watched as his eyes dart around. They were probably following a multitude of formulas and strings of logic.
"Oh… I think the Lone Wanderer ran into something similar. I heard stories about it leading up to the Purity Project being completed." Alexandria commented, scrunching her brow as she tried to recall the legend. Meanwhile, Jacob jumped in and raised cup with a laugh.
"Well, I think I'll make a toast to the fact that yer decided to back up us and not the other way around!" He cheered, to which the other Rangers parroted, "Sláinte!"
With the brief round of chuckles that snaked through the group, the evening sun was finally starting to set. As did the festivities, which led to the down-time that often preluded a good night's shut-eye. Though, Matthew and Alexandria still had their heads together in a complex discussion that led from topic to topic. Somehow Mariana had convinced the Rangers to sit through a field exam and was dutifully dressing their wounds. May took some time to polish her guns, with care that almost seemed motherly. Damien sat perched on the ledge of the hospital roof, and was using his binoculars to scan the area one last time before nightfall.
I found it in myself to simply watch the stars begin to peek through the dusks fading glow. Emmet ended up joining me, waiting just a few minutes to speak,
"So, I'm thinking we bed up here for the night and part ways come morning." He started, giving a short yawn as an interlude, "It'd be nice to work with you guys, but odds are our paths won't cross for quite a while."
"I find that agreeable, but you're just asking so we can protect your moss green asses for just a few more hours." I nodded, before slipping in a soft jab at the older Ranger. My reception was a genuine laugh as Emmet shook his head in mock dismay,
"Damn, I thought I was being subtle." He shot back with a crooked grin, for which I decided to count my lucky - damn - stars. I always expected combat, and the raiders we ambushed were right in my wheel of expectations. What I didn't expect was to already have forged a worthwhile bond that had lasting implications before we had even been topside for half a day. I also had the sinking feeling that our luck was going to nosedive exponentially.
"We're gonna be heading north up the Last Mile caravan trail," Emmet continued, reaching over to hand me a bag of smoke grenades, "If you're ever in the neighborhood and find that you need just a little more umph, give us a call. Can't guarantee same-day service though."
I was touched by the gesture, and took the bag graciously, "I'll definitely keep that in mind."
With the easy mood, it was startlingly easy to slip into a lax state that ended up allowing me to doze off. I wasn't sure how long I had laid there, but I woke with a start when my brain reminded me that we still needed to set up our bed-rolls. Embarrassed, I realized the others had already done so. It wasn't apparent in the moment, but today had been truly exhausting. I was met with a couple of chuckles and understanding nods, escaping with most of my dignity intact.
Against my better judgment, I felt good about today. On this uncertain road that we traveled, we were able to quickly do some good. Over all of the misfortune that was dealt to us, our deeds today cemented a speck of optimism into the road-map. That particular warm, fuzzy feeling made falling back asleep a forgone conclusion. In a breath, slumber swept me away from the warm summer evening and on to the next day.
Just before 0600, I was roused from my sleep by a gradual morning breeze. It didn't take long to see that I was the first up. I was half surprised that I wasn't entangled in a mess of limbs. Everyone, including me, had forgone any sleeping bags. I picked myself up silently and busied myself with restarting the fire. I figured I could treat Emmet and his Rangers to a proper pick-me-up. Extracting my mess kit as quietly as I could, I started a pot of boiling water. I erred on the side of caution and set up enough for everyone. Even though May, Damien, and Mari didn't partake.
In no time at all, heads began to slowly rise as the aroma of Ulysses's dark roast wafted around the rooftop camp. I did my best to note each reaction. There was; surprise, disbelief, familiarity, and even longing among the faces that wasted no time in lining up for a cup.
"I'll be damned… You're just full of surprises huh?" Emmet half-praised, half-grumbled to me. I just rolled my eyes and poured him a generous cup.
The line was quick to move, as everyone endeavored to respect the sanctity of a morning coffee. To my pleasure, I found that the entire camp was enjoying a cup. Pouring mine last, I let out a deep content sigh and took my first sip.
Never mind the fact that I had a cup just earlier this week, but to me that first sip was euphoric. I was immensely satisfied that my field brew yielded such good results. The only sticking point was the noticeable divot in my bag of ground.
Still, you couldn't ask for a better start to what would ultimately be an exhausting, uncertain day. Staying true to out motto, the only way to go was forward. Thus, we enjoyed our coffee and exchanged handshakes with the Rangers.
"I know you guys are probably made of stern stuff, but I'd recommend taking the crane over to the neighboring building. Those raiders did some fucked up shit to your fallen brothers." I suggested while making an exasperated gesture to the roof entrance.
"You'd be right, but I think we'll do just that… Yesterday was tough, even for a veteran of the wastes." Emmet nodded somberly, before flipping his helmet and stuffing it onto his head with a suave smile, "Stay safe out there. Next time we're in friendlier waters, I've got a round of drinks with your names on it."
I didn't have the heart to tell him that none of us would probably enjoy drinking, let alone that I still subscribed to the disdain for underage consumption. Who knows, maybe the wastes would wear us down enough were a stiff drink could be the remedy. I wasn't holding out for that though.
As for us, I wanted to collect intel on th raiders we ran into. It was a given that we'd have more than just one run in with the group, and in the business of surviving details matter. Emmet informed me over dinner last night that he assumed the raiders we dealt with were a part of the Delaney family. According to the Ranger's reports, three major raider companies coexisted throughout the state. For some asinine reason, they had assumed the mantles' of centuries old crime syndicates. In order of proximity; there was the Delaney family whom resided to the north-east along the shores of Lake Ontario and the border. Down south was the James family, which had expanded it's influence from Lake Erie to the fingers. They were the most troublesome for caravan's traveling from the west. Lastly, there was the Arrenetti family to the east. Their territories extended into Vermont, and they apparently worked closely with the slavers who controlled the area directly south of them.
I had seen Battlehorn's reports on the families, but as far as I could tell nothing was done in the decade between our release dates. I was never one to boast, but with the skill-set that our companies had, it would have been simple in an order of magnitudes. It was an uneasy thought, but we had bigger fish to fry.
With our impromptu objective completed, we would have to sit down to create a more concrete plan. Frankly, I was surprised that our programming had allowed us to ignore our primary mission so readily. With hope, that meant that Powell's control over us was weaker than we had expected. Granted, 'rid the wasteland of malcontents and rebuild America' was fairly fucking vague.
Regarding our personal mission, all we had to work with was a map marker in upper-Manhattan and the brief notes that Battlehorn had taken. Before the Ranger's set out, I asked about the area only to receive a pained look from Emmet.
"Good luck with that. We weren't even able to get close. We came up in through New Jersey, and we were driven out from the bay by a shit-ton of ghouls. Further north we went, the more desolate it became. Then we found the nuke crater."
I sighed, but thanked him anyways. If our predecessors could do it, I guess that meant we could too.
I was going over my equipment when the Ranger's shouted their goodbyes as they ambled across the makeshift bridge between buildings. I silently wished them well one more time before securing my helmet snuggly to my head. Once we had scavenged any surplus medical supplies and ammunition from the hospital, we set out south from Rochester to follow The Final Mile.
We were going to follow the caravan route until we hit the Auburn/Syracuse area before turning south and cutting through the least amount of slaver territory as possible. We'd have time to deal with them once I knew whether this mystery organization were willing to help or not. Either way, we had about five-hundred and sixty klicks to cover according to my PipBoy. Those numbers weren't going to shrink magically, and thus we departed quickly.
I had no doubts that we'd see Rochester again, and as we neared the outskirts of the city I felt the need to give it one more glance. Amusingly, I noticed the "Welcome to Rochester" sign this time. It had affectionately been vandalized by both time and survivors to say, "We_com_ t_ RocheTown."
Yep, RocheTown deserved a second visit once all was said and done.
Keeping a brisk jog, we made it to the caravan trail about seven minutes before 1100. Thankfully, adjacent to transfer from the 390 to the East 90, there was a RedRocket truck-stop. After scoping it out, I motioned for us to halt and set up camp for a brief rest.
Admittedly we could have maintained a decent pace well into the day, but something made me uneasy. Barring our encounter at the hospital, this area of the wastes was uncharacteristically quiet. I wasn't pining for danger, but our expectations were being subverted. Yes, boring was always better… but the wastes weren't supposed to be boring.
While the others busied themselves with securing the pump-station, I ventured further out beyond the perimeter. In a perfect world, the user interface of my PipBoy would highlight the other life-forms of the wastes. In this moment, however, the HUD in my helmet was barren spare the four pips that represented my comrades. As I walked along overpass, I spotted a fairly recent tag on the road-sign delineating the cities along the 90. Older paint read "THE FINAL MILE", but underneath of that stood a foreboding warning.
It stated plainly, "Protected by the Vault Reapers"
Below that, a surprisingly artistic rendition of a quintet of faceless reapers with a ragged scythe crossing the entire background of the tag.
There was really only one plausible conclusion, being that Battlehorn had made a lasting impression on the surrounding tribes. It was a poor explanation however, considering that Battlehorn had a decade of action already and there was no realistic reason for them to operate as caravan guards. Still, it was better than nothing. Returning to the truck-stop, I smiled at the progress the others had made. We weren't staying for long, but that didn't stop my crew from creating an optimal fortification within the gas station.
Matt was the first to wave me over, as he stood watch from inside the garage of the building. He had his helmet off and was looking over a battered terminal by the time I made my way over. He chewed his lip in concentration before sighing.
"Nothing useful, recon shed any light?" He asked, pulling a shop stool over for me to sit on. He hopped onto the desk, his hand still hovering around his rifle while he kept an eye out.
"I think Battlehorn is still exerting sway over this part of the wastes. Hopefully, we can make contact." I replied softly, though I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that we were missing something. There was nothing I could do currently though to remedy that. Matt could read my face, and gave an understanding nod before shrugging his shoulders,
"That'd be nice, but after everything we've been through I can say without a doubt that things won't go as easy as that."
I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes and instead opted for rapping his knee with a knuckle with a small grin, "Well, we can't help that we've always had shitty luck."
"Whatcha mean boss? I always thought we had a pretty good'un all things considered." May jumped into our conversation, looking up from her seat inside a wrecked Cryslus. It's luxurious interior had been reduced to rusted bare metal and the feint wisps of cushioning. She had a shit-eating grin splitting her face, which (like usual), was contagious as the rest of us began to smirk and chuckle along with her.
"Still, I'm sure you guys are picking up on this weird feeling too right?" I continued, casually scanning the horizon while I spoke. I could tell that the others agreed with me simply by the tense gazes on each of their faces. I sighed and checked the clock on my Pipboy. We still had plenty of daylight, so I spoke once again,
"Nothing we can do about it now, so hydrate and prep for departure. We'll be leaving in ten." I announced, pulling my helmet on and resting my laser rifle on my shoulder. We'd have the rest of our, most likely, dismal lives to deal with all the wastes' mysteries…
By the time that dusk was approaching, we were just making our way into what used to be known as Auburn. The fact that our travels had went unperturbed ironically grated on my nerves, and I had to hide my surprise as we neared the city. It was nonsensical, but I was almost startled to find that there were signs of life. The city itself had seen a fair bit of abuse, but within it's lines was a bustling settlement that served as the central hub of The Final Mile.
Steel, mortar, and concrete had been reclaimed to erect a formidable looking barrier that hid most of the settlement from the unforgiving wastes. The tale-tell aura of lights warmly bled into the hazy night sky, and bode a warm welcome.
Our cybernetic enhancements made it easier, but the trek was still arduously long and the prospect of some warm food and relative safety was hard to pass up.
Considering that we were going to be socializing, I made the group de-helmet and hang them on our back-packs. With weapons holstered and keeping well in the line of sight of the sentries, we approached the settlement. Once close enough, we could see a fairly well made sign that designated the town as "The Spine." I suppose it had something to do with the curvature of The Last Mile.
A lone guard, plasma rifle in hand, met us as we finally closed in on the front gates of The Spine. He was a gruff looking man, with gray peppering the deep russet of his beard and hair. He had a deep scar that ran from his jaw to his eye, which gave off the impression that he wasn't one to take shit from others.
Which is why, when he politely greeted us with a congenial, but subdued smile, I had to rush to gain enough poise and smile back.
"Welcome to The Spine, we take in everyone as long as ya got the caps and don't feel like throwing lead for no reason." He started, leaning on his gun with a relaxed stance, "I can assume you mean well 'cause you didn't start our conversation with a trigger."
"I suppose so, but I gotta ask… Why the lax security?" Against my better judgment, I ventured to ask why they felt so comfortable, especially now that night had fallen.
"Heh, I guess you would ask if you were new to the place," The guard gave a dry chuckle before turning to look at the fortifications, "We've had a lotta time to build things up, so whatcha see isn't what you're gonna get." He noted with enough steel in his tone to let us know he was serious.
He continued lightly, "More than that, The Last Mile has the Vault Reapers to serve as a… Wait a second…" The guardsman cut himself off as he took a closer inspection on our gear.
"Holy mother of… You're from the same vault!" He gaped, taking a tentative step forward to get a good look at our faces, "Totally clean, but ya got death written all over ya…"
The guard gave us the "wait one moment" gesture and rushed off into a small guard-house that jutted off the huge wall of The Spine. Within moments, a gaggle of similarly armored guards rushed out right on the heels of the guard that greeted us. I could hear feint whispers and saw nods of affirmation.
"Ain't no doubt about it. They're the genuine article…" The oldest looking guardsman said with a wistful look on his face. He clapped a younger guard on the back and gave a pointed nod to the settlement. This sent the young man into the town without a second glance. If anything, I could appreciate a well oiled organization when I saw it.
The others shot me a few questioning glances, but I simply waited to see what the guards had to say.
"Sorry about the commotion, it's just that we never expected to see another group like the Reapers…" The oldest guard stepped forward, his gray hair proving a testament to how hardy the man was, "We owe a lot to those folks, and I've got half a mind to assume you're good people too."
"Ah… Well thank you for the sentiment. We're new to the wasteland, but we're going to do our best to leave a positive impression." I returned with a slight smile, although I could feel a nagging buzz in the back of my head. I guess Powell didn't like that one.
"Well, as long as Sam finds you agreeable, I can say that you've got the support of our cozy little caravan enterprise." The old guard grins, before having his attention drawn to the gate.
The young guard from before had returned with a sharp-looking woman in tow. With a no-nonsense bob to her aged, yet surprisingly prim black power suit, this woman exuded authority. I was willing to bet she'd even give my mother a run for her money. She studied us with a measured gaze, her dark green eyes boring into each of us critically. Without moving her gaze, she addressed the old guard evenly,
"You've determined that these kids are associated with The Vault Reapers Travis?"
The older guard nodded emphatically, which was more than surreal considering that until five minutes ago we were all strangers. This didn't stop Sam from studying us intently, but her eyes had lost the sharp edge she had begun with. She was clearly testing us, but we had been through hell and then some. Her piercing gaze, while potent, couldn't really stand up to the centuries of experience we had attained. This continued for only half a minute longer before the shadow of a smile crossed the caravan magnate's lips. I suppose we passed her test… Now what that meant was still in the air.
Sam's posture had relaxed, however she still kept a even gaze on me,
"You. You're the leader correct?" She asked pointedly, before extending a hand to me.
I had to give her props for her deductive ability, making a mental note to solidify a good correspondence with this woman. Slipping out of attention, of which I hadn't even realized I had assumed, a nodded lightly before taking her hand. First, I amended my opinion of Sam and then I took notice of the firm calloused grip that grasped mine.
As long as she isn't absolutely heinous, I've got to make damn sure to find some sort of partnership with this woman…
"Yes, my name is Audrey. This is the commando unit Liberty." I said, giving her hand a firm shake before retracting my hand and crossing my wrists behind my back, "I can confirm that we are from the same program as the other vault-dwellers before us."
She gave me a soft nod, before taking a brief look at us, "Ah… Before we formally invite you to The Spine, am I to assume that your departure from the nest was fairly recent?"
I barked a short chuckle and raised my eyebrows questioningly, "What gave it away? Are we so green that we radiate inexperience?"
Sam gave a chortle in return and shook her head, "It's the hair and teeth. Not a lot of time to primp and preen when you've got slavers to the left and Super Mutants to the right."
When you really thought about it, she had a point. Without missing a beat, Sam gestured to us as well as her guard force and led us all into the settlement proper. It may have been our plan, but now it looked like we had no choice but to formally acquaint ourselves with The Spine.
Sam didn't waste any time leading us through the densely populated trading hub, confidently leading us through the gradually snaking path as we traversed from the caravan depot to the residential district of The Spine. Tucked well into the once beautiful Auburn, we arrived in front of what used to be City Hall. Most of the building's super-structure had survived, but patches of steel and wood marred the facade. Still, somehow the subtle majesty of the administrative remnant had been preserved.
"This is where I, and my constituents, waste countless hours hemming and hawing over what feel like asinine topics." Sam announced, the dry sarcasm oozing from her words, "It also doubles as my own domicile. It'd be a pleasure to treat you all as guests."
Sam made a gracious offer, and even pre-war me wouldn't be so rude as to decline. I did however, feel the need to compensate her. As I made to pull the bottle caps we had scavenged from our run-in with the Delaney's, Sam raised a hand and shook her head,
"There'll be no need for that, I'd rather you spend it with one of my traders than on some centuries old Blamco Mac and Cheese and lumpy beds." She stated matter-of-factly, a wry grin hiding behind her eyes, "Besides, the first one is always free. Now if you want to free-load I may change my mind."
Even without her whip-like wit, I could see why Sam had cultivated such a successful business. It seemed like she was able to lay on the charm at will, and I had a sinking suspicion that it'd be annoyingly difficult to catch the woman off-guard.
"Don't think it's worth it boss…" Damien quipped, although he still kept a vigilant eye out on our surroundings. I don't even think he knew he was actively doing so, but it was a good habit to have.
"Yes, you should listen to Blondie, Audrey. He's got a good head under those golden locks." Sam shot back, opening the door for us expectantly. I thought I had a well conditioned will, but it was difficult to keep her waiting. I don't think it'd be a bad idea to learn a few of her tricks.
And so, we were treated to a medley of pre-war food staples alongside strange fresh produce. We had a basic understanding of the mutations that our local flora had taken, but Battlehorn's reports didn't include much outside what would reliably sustain an optimal caloric intake when needed. Thus, most of what we ate was an entirely new experience.
After our very late dinner, Sam invited all of us into the lounge of her suite. Stepping into the room, I could clearly tell that Sam had the same idea that I had previously. The room was congenial enough, but it didn't take a genius to tell that this was where she did most of her business. Without even prompting them to, Matt and Damien took up places to the right and left of the door. Both had enough experience to maintain a non-threatening demeanor, and gave Sam and myself a look that said, "Don't worry, we'll make sure no one interrupts us."
Sam gave a small, dry chuckle and rattled off in her slightly fried tenor, "Geez, you've got those guys trained well. Think you could give my guard captain a few pointers?"
Even as she was joking, I could see Sam's features set into a no-nonsense mask that I'm sure she had decades to perfect. She led us to a tasteful set of couches that surrounded a weathered teakwood coffee table. May decided to lean on the arm of the couch that Sam gestured for me to sit on, facing the door almost expectantly. Mari took a moment to pull her helmet on before posting up in front of the window that posed the biggest security risk to the room. I wanted to call them to at-ease, but the survival sense that I had cultivated after all these years was also subtly ringing bells that I couldn't ignore.
Strangely enough, Sam didn't seem to mind. In fact, I could almost see the inklings of relief hidden behind her steely, serious eyes. I waited for her to continue the conversation, but simply continued to watch the five of us quietly. I couldn't say for sure, but it felt like she was silently attempting to vet us before speaking. It was almost like her razor sharp intuition was cutting through the air to find any holes in our character. I can only say so with certainty because it's exactly what I would be doing in her shoes.
After a few more moments of quiet deliberation, Sam finally spoke,
"There's no use in hiding it I suppose…" She started, her normal confident tone somewhat subdued, "The atmosphere of The Spine is off, no?"
I paused for only a tick before nodding concisely, "I didn't want to say anything right away, but yes… For how generous our welcome has been, I can't help but to feel on edge."
Mariana didn't remove her eyes from the buildings surrounding us while she addressed Sam, "Pardon me, but are you expecting trouble?"
Her question caused Sam to sigh and shake her head, "I apologize for answering with a question, but have you by any chance maintained contact with your predecessors?"
I tabled the sudden sinking feeling that built from her question and shook my head, "No, we have a record of their reports, but they've been quiet for quite a while."
Sam paused for a few seconds before frowning, "I see… I can't sugar coat this then,"
"I am taking a risk even mentioning this, but I fear there is a divide within my ranks. I must first, however, provide context for our situation." Sam spoke in an even, measured cadence, "Twelve years ago, I was first assigned to The Final Mile. I was still a fresh-faced trader on my second contract with the company."
She quietly reached for a pack of cigarettes on the end-table to her right and lit one before leaning back and crossing her legs, "It was a rough assignment, but that's the story no matter where you go. We were constantly dealing with slavers and raiders, and sometimes the unfortunate run-in with the roaming Super Mutant packs… It was hard to break even even on a good day."
Taking a draw, she gazed up to the ceiling with a rueful, bordering on spiteful grin, "Despite that, the route up north was too tantalizing to abandon. I'm sure you understand, but our hand was forced and we soldiered on. We were actually making decent progress until the raider families began warring over territories. Stupidity begets even more stupidity."
"I'm sure you can connect the dots, but our saving grace came in the form of The Vault Reapers. Upon having my bacon saved by them, I petitioned to enter a contract with them. We'd pay them to suppress the families, plus a few other benefits that come from siding with a trading company. Within months, we had completely done a one-eighty. No one messed with us, and we were raking in the caps. Before I even knew it, I was elected president of our chapter and I had a clear road to solidify our position as a truly powerful trading enterprise."
As I listened to her story, Sam's voice gradually became more acrid. She had an impeccable poker-face, but it was obvious that she was deeply irritated,
"Problem is, within the last two years, I've noticed an unsavory trend… Inconsistent ledgers paired with a steep climb in revenue. Don't get me wrong, if it was just the latter I'd feel comfortable with simply issuing an evaluation, but my traders are getting testy about routine audits. The worst part being that my own administrators are bending rules that have been set in stone since the charter was formed…"
I only just glimpsed a small crack in Sam's steely features, knowing full and well how the debilitating weight of leadership can grind away at you.
"I've no concrete evidence, but I believe that parts of my charter are abusing our position, and I think The Reapers are aiding an abetting… It just doesn't sit right with me." Sam finished with a grimace. In this short time, she had drawn her cigarette down to the butt and it now was crushed in the frustrated fist of the caravan magnate.
"You're suggestin' a mutiny, wit' Battlehorn being perpetrators as well?" May questioned, more curious than accusatory. I couldn't say that I didn't feel the same way. We had no way of knowing what the hell Battlehorn had gotten up to while they were topside.
"Precisely. If I can trust you, I feel that you may be the solution to this problem…" Sam continued slowly, her intonation putting the ball in my court.
"We could say the same thing about you, but I can see the benefit in reaching an agreement," I responded, deliberately keeping my tone neutral, "However, I must mention that we do have a prior obligation that will most likely take priority over our agreement."
Sam shook her head to dismiss the pseudo-apology, "I never expect an immediate resolution in scenarios like this. I'm more than capable of maintaining the status quo until you are able to produce a solution on your part."
She continued with a warmer, albeit slightly mischievous, grin, "Of course, if you want to put in some extra effort I wouldn't be against you getting in some undercover work up north."
I found myself returning the gesture, while quietly admiring Sam. It was a surface-level assessment, but it took guts to back an unknown horse. I didn't plan on reneging on our deal, but hopefully her bet was well placed.
The rest of the night passed relatively uneventfully, with only a small firefight outside of The Spine breaking the silence. Apparently a Super Mutant pack had passed through the area heading south and a few stragglers found their way into the sights of the guard sentries.
Contrary to our usual habits, we didn't start preparing to depart until 0930. As we stood at the door of the capital building, Sam bid us farewell with a round of hand-shakes and a knowing look. Things were definitely uncertain, but I maintained a healthy amount of optimism for our future engagements with Sam and her caravan. Once she reached me, Sam gave a short nod and said,
"I'll be sure to keep an ear out for that group you mentioned as well."
Before our talks had reached their end last night, we had discussed Liberty's mission in the wastes, and shared the reports of our mysterious organization at the focus of our efforts. Even as just an information broker, Sam was likely to be an invaluable asset in the near future. I thanked her quietly and extended my hand. She took it with no hesitation and squeezed it lightly before finally sending us on our way.
At 0945, we were finally back out on the road. Staying true to what Sam expressed, I made sure to sink some bottle caps on provisions and to top off our ammunition stores. So far, our luck had held out. That's what set me on edge more than anything.
When it all came crashing down, I was almost relieved. Although, I'd rather attribute that to the fact that I had reacted quickly enough to avoid a bullet to the gut.
We were gradually making our way south towards the old state line, and happened across a diminutive settlement about fifteen klicks north-east of the small city of Ithaca. Signs of confrontation were apparent from afar, and we could hear the occasional discharge of a high-caliber rifle. It was when we neared the settlement that shit began to hit the fan.
I ordered everyone to stop behind a crumbling bus stop, and was just about to set about a plan when I heard the crack of another rifle. Trusting my instincts, I pushed Mariana into the brush that had accumulated around the stop and hit the deck. I didn't even have time to react to the shower of shrapnel of steel and lead before Matthew and Damien began to return fire. I scrambled to my feet and scanned my helmet's HUD, finding that the group that had shot up our asses only numbered to be six combatants. Worse still, my compass began to light with even more enemies from the direction of the settlement. In total we had to face a force of just over twenty bandits, with the other sixteen coming from the settlement. It seemed that they didn't like being snuck up on.
With only an instant to decide, I barked over the comms, "04, 05, deal with those assholes and back us up once you're finished!"
Nodding to May and Mari, I bounded out and signaled for attack formation five. Moving perfectly, May took point while Mariana and I gradually created space to form a very rudimentary pincer. With such a disparity in numbers, I had to trust in the strength of my friends. Although the thought of doubt never even crossed my mind. We'd be able to hold out until the boys got done with their part.
What ever good fortune that somehow did cling to us up until this point shriveled away when we finally made contact with our initial targets. Charging around with a bestial ferocity, a grotesque gaggle of Super Mutants prowled the lightly wooded area of the valley we were in. Any that had a firearm were shooting wildly towards the the firefight that Matthew and Damien were currently caught up in. The other mutants gripped their clubs, sledge hammers, and cobbled together weapons that looked like tetanus incarnate with a little bit of lethal maiming to boot.
I was just about to initiate contact when Matt's breathless voice rang over the radio,
"~01, alert! 01, alert! Our group just sent up a flare. Probable reinforcements inbound!~"
Shit.
Ignoring the clichéd 'when it rains it pours' outlook of our situation, I buckled down and threw myself at the writing mass of problems directly in front of me. The first shot that landed was May's, being a perfectly placed grenade from her MGL. I could hear the explosion and anguished cries of a Super Mutant, but that's about the extent of the situation I could absorb before my own laser rifle was discharging its super-heated projectiles that could cut through bone and sublimate soft tissue.
While May was attracting the brunt of attention from the mutants, I did my best to pick off any of the monsters unlucky enough to cross my path. Meanwhile, I could see that Mari was effectively cutting to the flank of the mass of mutants. We were performing the formation perfectly, but for a lack of a better word, we were utterly ineffective. It took multiple shots, well placed or not, to even take down one of the fuckers. May was the only one who could fell them easily with her heavy munition, but as the fight went on she was slowly being overwhelmed. The boys' comms had gone silent, but I could still hear their firefight. Mariana had successfully flanked the group, but if we were to avoid having May taken out I had to do something now.
Knowing there was no other alternative, I threw down my pack and laser rifle. Pulling out Theodore's handgun and my combat knife, I charged into the fray. As much as the laser rifle packed a punch, it'd be of little use in close quarters.
As much as I hated taking foolish risks, I also couldn't leave Mari and May to shoulder the danger alone.
The Super Mutants were disorganized, but they made up for it with sheer brute force. Lamentably, we had only dispatched of four of the monsters, with Mari slitting the throat of the fifth as I cut across the battlefield to back her up.
On the way, I blasted a hole through a mutant's knee before driving my knife through it's eye socket. As I neared Mari, I could see that she had caught a few rounds, but thankfully it didn't seem like her armor had allowed her to be seriously injured. I nodded to her and ran towards our next target. Not missing a beat, she followed me up as we began to tag team our way through the mutants' ranks.
Things were going well until we had managed to get surrounded by a trio of mutants. Not only did they seem bigger and stronger than the others, but their tactics had taken a steep turn for the smarter. Even with May's threatening presence, they saw the trail of bodies left in our wake.
"WARRHG, PUNY HUMAN, YOU DIE TODAY!" One of the ring-leaders practically spat in my face, raising a makeshift glaive longer than my torso above it's malformed head.
I sent three rounds into it's chest, only to narrowly dive out of the way of his still descending blade. Meanwhile, I could hear the ripping of kevlar and Mari's pained cries. The blade aimed for my skull ended up crossing Mari square in the back. The bleeding was already torrential, but Mari somehow had the grit to unload her magazine into the mutant in front of her. They both fell with a thud as my world began to fade to red. At this point, my body was moving on it's own. I could faintly feel myself kick off one of the mutants and wrap my legs around another's neck. I'm not sure how many times I drove my knife into it's skull, but I do know that I was shot square in the chest before the body had fallen. It didn't matter to me, as the pain only amplified my wrath. I rebounded off of the ground and dove into the other mutant with reckless abandon. I buried my blade deep into it's bowels before ripping as much flesh as I could away from it's body.
I heard another shot ring off, but didn't feel the searing lead so I leveled my handgun with it's neck and pulled the trigger until it could no longer fire. I wanted to collapse to my knees, but I willed my aching body to Mari's side. Pulling the one emergency stimpack we all made sure to carry, I plunged it deep into her back and breathed out a guttural growl.
Without thinking, I bounded up again to exterminate the other mutants. What I found was a battered May, pulling off her helmet and throwing it down. I recoiled when she firmly grabbed my shoulders. I could feel my chest heaving against my armor, and the dull pain from the battle, but I couldn't hear my friend's words. I frantically drove my gaze everywhere until it landed on May's emergency stimpack clasped in her hand. She drove it into my shoulder and suddenly the cold pain of shock rocketed through my body to tell me I was loosing blood. Not only that, but I could feel the bones in my right arm begin to reset.
"Boss! Boss, can you hear me!?" May cried out, a tight grimace on her face.
I could only numbly nod in return as I slumped down to the ground. Once I regained my voice, I looked up to May, "The boys?"
"Still fighting, rest here with Mari… I gottem."
She should have known me well enough to know that I wasn't going to let that fly. Pulling up on a petrified stump, I barked out,
"Grab Mari, we're done here."
I could see that she wanted to protest, but she held herself back and silently pulled her helmet back on. While she checked on Mari, I retrieved my things and started for the top of the valley. I coughed and spoke through the comms,
"01 to 04 and 05… We're on our way."
Storming to the secondary battlefield, despite my body's protests, I found Matthew and Damien pinned behind an old diner. They were holding their ground against a now twelve body force of what looked to be raiders. It didn't matter what family to me. As soon as I could level a lethal shot, I began to place lasers through any fool stupid enough to attack my friends. Mariana had regained enough strength to walk on her own and, disregarding May's protests, began to send lead down range as well. With a huff, May pulled her LMG off of her shoulder and began to mow through the raiders as well.
There was, without a doubt, cause for reflection of my actions… Though right now I just wanted to focus on keeping us whole.
We were able to limp into the settlement shortly after recovering from that absolute shit-show. We were whole, but only just. The boys held their own, but they had been equally banged up when all was said and done. Although our bodies were actively disagreeing with us, we all decided that we would wait to nurse our wounds until we ascertained the status of the inhabitants of the settlement.
At first, I feared all of our effort was for naught. The unassuming shanty-town was more than derelict, but I found slight relief in the fact that there weren't any bodies laying about. There were also signs of life around the encampment, in the form of fire-pits and fresh bins of trash.
I motioned for the others to set their things down and rest, before finding a semi-comfortable patch of dead grass to fall into. As much as I desired to get a sitrep, I knew that without taking the time to fully mend my injuries I'd be ill equipped to do more than shamble around the settlement aimlessly. I was about to take stock of my supplies when Damien tapped my shoulder with his knuckles to bring my attention to the group of civilians crawling out of the woodworks. Within moments, we were surrounded by a mass of people of varying ages. With a quick glance, I noted that each one bore either debilitating trauma, physical deformities, or signs of mental limitation.
From within the group, which had taken to curiously studying us, a young woman emerged who looked to be the leader. She wore tan leather armor that was intentionally cut at her left elbow and left knee to show crude prosthetics that gleamed in the warm afternoon light. From what skin I could see on her neck and face, I could see surgical scars lining her right side. I had to assume she was unlucky enough to survive a land-mine.
As she approached my group, I did my best to stand and face her. Only to fall to my knee once my strength gave out midway. May had enough energy to help me to my feet, and although I probably didn't need it, she also kept a soft grip on my arm in case I decided to take another spill.
Although I could feel the sweat of exertion cover every inch of my body, I gave May a soft smile and straightened to stand on my own. Thinking about it, we must have been quite the sight. Clad in pitch-black armor, with three of us sporting signs of mortal wounds. In our exhaustion, we hadn't spared much of an effort to clean the blood of both the mutants and raiders off. I'm sure we smelled horrendous.
Now that we were face to face, I was able to see more of the woman's face. While abundant and unavoidable, the scars that extended to her face did little to detract from her striking image. She wore a shock of jet-black hair that was parted to the left and shaved on the right, which probably saved her from a more than jagged hair-line. Her lips and right eyebrow had also been marred with scar-tissue, but that only served to heighten the air of authority she carried. I stared evenly into her deep, sapphire like, eyes and managed my best wry grin,
"I apologize for the sorry view, but it seem's like this area is in the clear now."
The scarred woman let out what seemed like an anxious sigh and hastily removed her hand from her side-arm resting in it's holster.
Shit, one rough battle and I loose my edge…
Interrupting my mental faux-pas, the scarred woman barked a command to an older man who's face and body was covered in the obvious scars of a severe burn,
"Oscar, find our medical supplies. If these fine folk are gonna die, it won't be on our watch," She nodded, answering his unspoken question of 'are you sure?' It was a pleasant surprise to hear that her voice was kind, in it's weathered firmness.
Turning back to us, she greeted Liberty with a gracious smile, "Well, I suppose it's only right we introduce ourselves. My name is Ruby, welcome to Safe Haven."
May choked a weak giggle, but even then it was contagious. Feeling the last of my adrenaline fade, I couldn't help but stifle a laugh as well… Which soon devolved into a short fit of giggles as I desperately tried to pull myself back together.
Ruby ended up laughing along with us, shaking her head in mock chagrin, "Yes, I can see the irony there, but seriously… You didn't have to risk your hide to save ours… Thank you."
Damien spoke up first, placing his helmet on top of his backpack, "Don't mention it. ' May sound crazy, but it's what we came here to do."
"You're damn right it's crazy… Still, we can't thank you enough." Ruby shook her head, unable to keep the incredulous tone out of her voice, "I can't deny it though, your passing through is a stroke of luck I don't even want to unpack."
"Never look a gift horse in the mouth, ain't that right?" May offered, stretching her legs as she sat on an old lawn-chair that somehow weathered the wastes.
Oscar had returned with a trauma-bag full of supplies, only to be intercepted by Mariana. She pulled out her own pack and looked to him, "We will graciously accept that, but first I'd like to look at your wounded as well."
I could still hear the strain in her voice, and wished for once that she'd sit down and let someone else play medic. Thankfully, Oscar gave her a stern glare and raised his hand in protest. Whatever doubts he had before were swiftly silenced as I watched the interaction unfold. Using his other hand, Oscar began to use what would be considered ASL during pre-war times,
"I will treat her first, and then their leader," He signed dexterously, glancing at me for a moment, "They've got a good supply as well, suggest a trade?"
I smiled deeply before responding in turn, "Thank you very much. She may be putting on airs, but I was worried about her."
This gave Oscar a start, but then his own scarred face stretched into a smile. I continued, "And by all means, however Mariana," I gestured to her with my head, "will want to be in charge of those discussions."
Ruby had taken a step back, before shaking her head once more, "Jeez, you're just full of surprises aren't ya? Just who the hell are you guys?"
Oscar shook his head at this, signing with both hands now, "Hey, interrogations later. I'm taking them to the clinic."
Motioning for us to follow him, I nodded to the rest of my crew as well. I knew damn well that they'd take the soldier on mentality and, like Oscar, I wasn't having any of that shit. Our engagement in Roche Town was tough, but this was our first major confrontation. I wasn't going to take any chances, even with all the cards that had been stacked in our favor.
If there was one thing that living with a mother like mine taught me, it was to always expect the worst and do everything in your power to prepare for it. If you were wrong, things were going a hell of a lot better than they could have been.
All things considered, Oscar made a phenomenal field medic. He insisted for Mariana and I to allow him to administer two of his precious Stimpacks to spare our own. Well, he actually was pertinent on giving each of us one, but the others insisted that he use his more replenish-able supplies. They were able to get away with a complete work up of burn-salves, healing powders, and luke-warm Nuka-Colas.
We were forced to humor his continued insistence to keep Mari and I for one more check-up to make sure we were, in his words, "tip top shape."
As soon as her wounds were fully mended, Mariana turned on Oscar with a pout and furrowed her brow… If I didn't know that she could fillet a man seven ways till Sunday, I'd even venture to call the scene cute. Oscar certainly thought so, as he gave a toneless laugh that still conveyed his mirth. He signed to me with an amused eye roll, to which I relayed to Mari,
"He says, 'Okay, okay… We can go look at the others now… and thanks to us, there isn't much to do in the first place."
She followed him out with a determined look on her face. I was strong enough to wait until the door had closed to finally let out a laugh, but only just. I was cut off by the door opening once more, but with a wave of relief I found that it was Ruby who had walked in.
"Sheesh, a regular pair of busy-bodies huh?" She chuckled dryly, walking across the small clinic to lean on one of it's many counters. She crossed her arms and leaned into the counter to stretch her back deeply.
"I think that just comes with the territory. Although our case is a little unique." I responded lightly, knowing that she wanted to hear just that. She did well trying to hide it, but the ever-present light in her eyes betrayed her.
"Speaking of, I've been dyin' to know. What's y—"
"What's our story?" I ventured to intercede, raising my eyebrow knowingly. This caused Ruby to sheepishly rub the back of her neck with a nod.
I grinned lightly and waved it off with a shrug, "It's only natural, I'd be more put out if you didn't ask honestly."
I answered her earnest curiosity with an honest retelling of our long, storied history in the vault and then a dramatically shorter addendum of our fresh experiences in the wastes. While I knew that she was genuinely curious, her captivated gaze did threaten to catch me off guard. Even the Rangers had comments and exclamations to share the last time I told this story.
Not Ruby though, as she silently listened through the entire retelling. She even sat in silence for a few minutes after I had finished. Strangely enough, it was a comforting silence. Usually, without the abnormal training I had, I'd be searching for ways to fill the void. Though finally Ruby spoke,
"My… Gosh…" She faltered for a moment, blinking her eyes a few times as she collected her thoughts, "I-I can't believe… that they'd do something so horrible to you."
I was made to pause this time. Ruby's incredulous look was gone, and was replaced by a deep and sincere sympathy. To be honest… I expected her to immediately doubt my story to a degree, or at least to have shown a slight challenge to the tale.
"After all of that, you still wanted to step in and save Safe Haven? You all must be saints…"
I had to shake my head, finally able to respond, "Please, you don't have to say that. We were just doing what was right," I realized what I was saying mid-way and shook my head again, "It's what we were trained to do…"
It was useless, I was useless against the sly smirk that began to cross Ruby's face. I had to look away to regain my poise, but Ruby didn't relent, "Right… You were trained to ride in and save the day like some fairy-tale band of knights? I'm not sure if I'm the ideal example of a damsel in distress…"
For the first time topside, my ears started to burn as she began to nail her teasing remarks home. It was dastardly, how easily I had been put at ease. This attack had blindsided me. It took all the willpower in my bones to evenly return,
"I don't suppose you know where I can find a noble steed, the march was killer on my knees."
Granted, it wasn't the response I wanted, but deflecting her unrelenting wit with banter was better than nothing. I'd give anything to know how she was so efficient at upturning my time-polished sense of decorum. It was as amusing as it was infuriating.
"'Fraid not, but you're welcome to rest your weary bones here in Haven. Once the others warm up to you, I imagine you'll be getting the royal treatment anyways." Ruby returned, finally relenting, "Although I can't vouch for the food…"
I shrugged, "It can't be worse than the nutrition bars we carry around."
Ruby shot me a look that read as if she were sincerely weighing the options, before giving one more soft chuckle, "I guess there's only one way to find out."
Almost as if on cue, the sound of what could only be the dinner-bell cut through the walls of the clinic.
"Ah, looks like lunch is ready," Ruby noted, and began to walk towards the door. She paused before turning the handle and smiled back to me, "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like if you were to sit next to me for lunch. I enjoyed this conversation."
Once again, Ruby left me at a loss for words as she languidly made her way back outside. Without even realizing it, I had watched her walk away while the door was still closing.
What in the nine hells was that Audrey?
True to her word, Ruby had saved me a seat among the haphazard grouping of picnic tables that surrounded the main cooking fire. Now that the threat of imminent death no longer hung over Safe Haven, both it's residents and Liberty were able to enjoy a worthwhile respite from the hell that was the wasteland. The older residents enjoyed the libations at hand, with moderation of course. Meanwhile, the younger residents crowded around the members of Liberty to hear the stories they had to tell.
However, old habits never die… I, as well as the rest of my company, split our focus to keep a vigil on the wastes around us. Ruby had a pair of guards stationed at the entrance, but one could never be too careful.
Once we had finished lunch, which turned out to be brahmin stew. Ruby explained that they had scored a good deal on the dried meat recently, and that their own farm had supplied the raw produce that was mixed in. Once hearing that, I made sure to savor the meal even more. Hearing that their hard work had gone into it made it hard not to.
Allowing myself a few minutes to relax, I paused the small talk to ask,
"So, I think it's fair if I ask about your story as well. I can assume why Safe Haven was founded, but it's the how that's got me curious." I opened, watching Damien bid his table goodbye before taking a pair of bowls to the sentries. I had no doubt that he'd remain up there for a while too, seeing as he had his rifle in tow.
"Oh, that's a sad one too. Are you sure you wanna hear it?" Ruby replied, an earnest look crossing her face.
I watched her for a moment before nodding. It seemed as if she didn't harbor any reservations about her circumstances, or the morose nature of life in the wasteland.
"Whelp, no place to start like the beginning I guess…" She said with a wistful smile, looking around the outdoor canteen with a light behind her eyes, "A lot of us are strays… We either couldn't fit in, or were unable to contribute. Some of us were less fortunate than that, but me? I was a relatively normal kid… Well as normal as you can get being raised out here."
She looked up to the drab sky that was slowly beginning to fill with clouds, before turning her attention back to me, "I grew up in a big settlement called Old Fort Niagara. It was one of the few settlements that had lasted from the old world, from what my history teacher told me. The walls were huge, and there were enough people there to really build the place up."
"Thing is, we always had trouble with the James Family raiders just south of Old Niagara. They were never stupid enough to do more than harass us here and there. That changed when the families started their feud, I'm sure you've heard about it at least once by now. Everybody and their mom has some sorta opinion on it." Ruby huffed, scratching at the wood grain of the table, "Anyways, Old Niagara was caught in the middle of it. My mom and pa got spooked, and suddenly we were pulling away from the fort in the dark of night. Apparently, we weren't the only one's with that idea. A few other families ended up leaving with ours, but one of them wasn't as careful."
Ruby paused, collecting herself while giving me a pensive look, "Er… Someone ended up shooting their gun at the absolute wrong time. All of us were caught up in a fight between the slavers and the James Family." She waved her prosthetics and blew a lock of hair out of her face, "I'm not sure how I ended up surviving, memory's real fuzzy around then."
I solemnly nodded my head, letting Ruby decide if she wanted to continue. She smiled weakly, showing a strength that I hadn't expected.
"I was told that a wandering mercenary had kept me from bleeding out and took back to the fort. Not much else though… Ol' Doc Harrison fixed me up the rest of the way, making sure I didn't actually die, and then commissioned a set like this from our handy-man."
"It was horrible, but I learned how to manage after a while. I even found work when I could, but once I got older I was expected do pull more weigh. I tried, I really did but… It wasn't enough. The feuds were still raging then, and we were losing more and more people. They either jumped ship, or ended up dying as the years went on. We had no choice but to buck up and keep working, but it wasn't enough. I couldn't earn my keep, and I would've starved if I had stayed. So when I found my chance, I left home."
I certainly knew the feeling, despite the differences in our life-paths. If we had met under any other circumstances, I'm not sure that I would have had the will to let her continue. Even recounting this far was truly commendable. I could still feel the iron will that came from overcoming her trials as a leader from Ruby, finding myself in the same captivated trance that she held in the clinic.
"I didn't know where I was going, but I knew that if I stopped moving I wouldn't survive. So I pushed and pushed… I pushed as hard as I could until I ended up at the fingers. I had nothing left to give, and no-one would hire a teen who looked like me. Arm and leg rusted, malnourished, and half manic? Not a very great impression to leave… Just when I was gonna give up, he found me again. The mercenary from all those years ago… He told me of a dream he had, and that if I could just give a little bit more… I'd be in it too…"
Ruby seemed close to tears, but as I reached out to rub her shoulder she turned to me with a sweet smile.
"I know it's lost it's luster over the years, but isn't it beautiful? His dream?" She asked, turning to survey Safe Haven. I could see it for sure, what Safe Haven was to Ruby. Not only was it her home and family, but it was her hope. It was what kept her going, just like Liberty and my vow with Ulysses was to me.
"Y-Yes, it's more than beautiful." Was all I could say.
The people of Safe Haven could only be described as inspiring, even without knowing the storied past of each soul that managed to find sanctuary here. More than that, they were genuinely good people. It wasn't easy to live in a world like this, but each and every one of them had persevered to make it to this point and still had the strength of character to not become jaded. I wanted to believe that Ruby was a large part of that, and from what I could see, that may have been true.
As I spent more time with them, a tight knot of guilt began to build in my throat. For a moment, I resented the fact that come daybreak tomorrow we'd be gone…
In that moment, I wanted to stay. I wanted to support these people. I wished so deeply that I could save the children still trapped in Vault 009 and then dedicate myself to the dream of Safe Haven…
~Bzzzt Bzzzzt~
In that passing instance, my dream faded.
It was replaced by the cold, hard truth that such a life was impossible. Frame it any way you like; it wasn't in the cards, fate had other plans… It wasn't within our programming. In the grand scheme, the lives of these people were insignificant.
They didn't matter at all…
~Bzzzt Bzzzzt~
Ruby was shaking my shoulder as her words began to phase back into perception,
"Audrey… Audrey!"
Almost as if I had been sleeping, I jumped with a start and stared dumbly at Ruby,
"H-Huh?"
I could see worry readily evident on her face, which was only enhanced by the concerned faces of my squad joining hers. I felt shame bleed into my face and stared down into my lap. Ruby had yet to release her grip, which felt like she was attempting to keep me from floating away.
"Can… Can we talk? Bring the others." Ruby spoke slowly, making sure I understood her words. She had adopted her mantle of leader again, and asked Oscar to go grab Damien as well.
I shambled up to my feet, watching the crowd study me with varying emotions. Some were just as concerned as Ruby, while the others hid a creeping fear behind strained small talk. What the hell just happened?
Ruby hushed the crowd with a firm gaze and placed her left arm around me as she led me to the largest building in Safe Haven. It served as the council room for the settlement, which was apparent by the near Socratic arrangement of chairs. Waiting until the others all found a seat, Ruby looked to each of us with the question almost bursting from her lips.
Using a gentle voice however, she asked evenly, "Was that your… programming?"
Even if she was totally willing to believe what I told her, the alien nature of such a topic still tripped her up. I was left glancing at the others to see if Ruby's suspicions were true. I had no recollection of what happened, but the persistent concern on my team's faces drove a spike of anxiety down my spine.
Matthew leaned forward in his seat and placed a gentle hand on my knee, "Do you remember what caused this episode?"
I had trouble finding my words, and more-so the trigger in question. The only thing that came to mind was the faintest whisper of a… Dream…
"A dream… It was a dream…" I managed weakly.
Matthew frowned, but looked to Ruby. He was right to follow that line of reasoning. She looked around for a moment before her eyes widened,
"Haven… We were talking about how Safe Haven came to be. It was a tough story…" She explained, clearing her throat to give the others the condensed version of her history.
"I… I see," Matthew breathed out a deep sigh, "You are likely right Ruby. B- Audrey must have been thinking of something that conflicted with our… Directive."
Damien, staring down nothing in particular, bounded from his seat. He had kicked it back in the process, and had started pacing with fists clenched tight.
Before anyone could speak, we all witnessed the tense frustration fade from his body as he sat down once more.
"Wait… What are we supposed to do?" Ruby asked, an nigh-panicked lilt in her voice.
This time, it was May that spoke. She was struggling to keep her voice level as she said, "There's nothing we can do… Whatever Audrey had rollin' through her mind is gone now. We've had it happen before."
I watched the realization dawn on Ruby as she clenched her jaw, "Nothing…"
I wanted to reach out an apologize to her, for troubling her so deeply, but she spoke again, "Please, rest here tonight… Rely on us as much as you can."
I could feel my frown forming, but I forced myself to nod to her with my own fists clenched.
We silently set up our bed-rolls under a starry night that would have been beautiful even with the sickly haze that always coated the wastes. The wonderful vista did nothing to heighten our spirits though. In fact, it only served to pile on the detritus that was starting to weigh down on our moods.
As we laid down with a quiet chorus of grunts and sighs, I couldn't help but feel that I had done something wrong. Whether I liked it or not, my entire life I had always done things right. Before the bombs fell, that meant meeting my mother's expectations without selling my soul like she did. After? It meant taking care of my new family, leading them confidently and not carelessly. Somewhere along the way, I found the right way to be programmed. I never once bucked up to that dead senator while staying true to my right.
For the first time my life, I had messed up…
I shouldn't even feel guilty about it, but I do.
I know, even having been overwritten, that what I had thought or desired wasn't impure. It wasn't unjust or evil. I know it was something wonderful… I know it…
So, when I heard my own meek, resigned voice air,
"I'm sorry,"
I wasn't sure why I had spoken at all.
A/N: Hiya! It's Moose again, with another overworked and undeniably overly late update!
I was really excited to get Audrey and the gang out into the wastes, so chapter five has a little extra meat on it's bones. If I'm being brutally honest though, I had intended to double the length... But once I wrote that last passage, my foolishly prose-filled, romantic heart wouldn't let me continue.
Joking aside, I hope that you all enjoyed this one! Here's to me taking another four months on chapter six...
Kudos, Moose!