Beyond the lop-sided bridge, between Sanctuary Hills and the Red Rocket gas station, Betty came across the bodies of a man and a mange-ridden dog. She'd seen pictures of death and destruction from Nate's time in the Army, in the courtroom, and on television, but never in person. The closest she came to seeing carnage of any sort before the bombs fell was when she ran over a raccoon by accident coming home from work one evening. Looking over the bodies from a couple feet away wasn't as horrific as she'd thought, though the smell she could do without. Of all things, however, it was the clothes this man wore that garnered Betty's attention.
He wore a faded leather jacket and pants, and when she compared it to her own vault suit, Betty realized how foolish it was to wear such bright colors against the drab grays and browns of the ravaged suburbs. The only clothes left back at Sanctuary Hills were pre-war; nothing that would give her any sort of adequate protection. The dead man's clothes would have to suffice. Betty reached down and turned the him over, falling back with a gasp. At least now she knew it wasn't his clothing that ended his life. His throat had been ripped out, most likely by the dead mongrel beside him. His death may have been recent, but rigor mortis had begun and Betty was forced to wrestle the jacket and pants free from the corpse. She also found another handgun, this one home-made using small pipes. Even she had to admit that it was clever on his part.
Betty debated on whether or not to return home to change into the more subdued clothes but could only snort with amusement at the thought. No one was out here, she was alone, and running out of fucks to give. Truth be told, she was never much of a thrill-seeker. Not that she didn't want to be, but opportunities like standing naked outside your neighborhood and stealing clothes from a dead body, those things didn't happen to her. Nate was the one all the adventures revolved around. For her, law school was the only adventure-esque sort of experience she ever had before waking up to this current insanity.
The leathers were a little too large for her and stank to high heaven, but they did the job. Betty could only imagine what happened to women who traveled alone in the wastes, so it worked out to discover men's clothes. As she pulled her boots back on, the German Shepard dog she saw moments ago down the road now trotted toward her, with a wagging tail and his tongue hanging from the side of his mouth. Betty always thought of herself as an avid animal lover, but reached for her 10mm pistol just the same, lest she meet the same fate as the man who's clothes she wore.
"Hey boy, what're you doing out here all by yourself?" she asked as the dog barked and jumped up to slather her cheek with drool before he sat and wagged his tail.
"You wanna come with me, pal?"He whined and pushed his snout into her hand. Such a simple action was enough to warm the tiniest sliver of her cold, angry heart. Animals, especially dogs, were a soft spot for Betty.
"Okay then, let's stick together. I hope you're ready to fight, because I don't really know what I'm doing."
The dog gave a short bark and began to sniff about ahead of Betty as she walked down the road to Concord. All the stress began to pile onto her shoulders, and dread crept into her mind, rearing its ugly head. Betty gave a low, soft whistle and the dog's head perked right up at the sound. "Find me some cigarettes, pup, would you? If there was ever a time to start up again, I'm pretty sure it's now."
He barked twice before taking off through the bushes and back towards the gas station. A few minutes later, after the sounds of metal clattering about settled back to silence, the dog ran over to Betty with a carton of cigarettes in his mouth, still sealed from the elements and a bit of dog drool. He dropped it at Betty's feet and she stared at him in shock, her mouth agape. No way a dog, or any animal for that matter, could be so intelligent.
"Know any tricks, boy?" she asked as she picked the carton up from the cracked tarmac. The dog barked twice more and was silent.
"Up?" Betty asked, and the dog sat upright on his back legs.
"Shake?" A paw offered to her.
"Play dead." He flopped onto his side and lay very still. She even nudged him with her foot and still, no response. Betty couldn't help but laugh aloud, and the dog bounded up to lick her face several times, whining with happiness. "That's a good boy! Good dog! C'mon, let's finish our walk."
Concord was about a half-hour walk from Sanctuary Hills, more than enough time for Betty to tear open the carton of cigarettes and inhale the scent of tobacco, something she hadn't smelled or touched since she finished law school. She stuffed the carton into the knapsack Codsworth gave her and made a mental note to look for some matches or a lighter of sorts. At this point, a blow torch would've sufficed.
Gunfire erupted ahead of Betty and her new-found pup as they arrived in Concord. The heavy shots pierced the humble, quiet morning and the Sole Survivor, wanting to keep that title a bit longer, rushed into what she hoped was an empty house and tried to drag the dog along by the scruff. He wanted to fight, and fought against Betty every step that brought them closer towards the collapsed home. "C'mon! If you go out there, you won't be a dog anymore, just dog meat!"
Betty gasped as the dog broke free of her hold and ran around the corner, barking madly. It was then it dawned on her, the perfect name for that crazy hound. The gun shots grew louder and closer together. There was no way she'd make it out here in the wasteland. Not by a long shot and not without help. She pulled out her 10mm and gave it a once over before she let out a heavy sigh. It was all she had since the gun she found on the corpse was empty and she could've sworn she heard automatic fire for a moment. Betty considered abandoning a fight she hadn't even witnessed until she heard the dog cry out with pain. No time to be afraid now, not when her new friend needed her. She ran around the corner and saw Dogmeat laying in street, panting, with a scrawny, nasty looking man wearing a metal cage around his head about to bring down a cedar baseball bat right onto the pup's head.
"Dogmeat!" Betty shouted. It was enough to rip the attention away from her dog and cast it upon her instead. The man ran towards Betty, screaming his head off as he raised the bat above his head once more. She took aim with uncontrollable, shaky hands and squeezed the trigger. The bullet flew and struck the crazed man in the chest and he fell back, clutching his wound with a scream.
Betty whistled and Dogmeat staggered to his feet with a whine and hobbled over to her. "Don't worry boy, I'll have something," she said as she looked through the knapsack. She found a stimpak and jabbed the thin needle into Dogmeat's shoulder. Within seconds, Dogmeat took off at full speed towards the Museum of Freedom down the street, where the firefight was much more intense.
"Damn it, what are you doing?" she shouted, taking chase after him.
Betty passed the first man she had ever shot in her life and glanced down at his wound. One of his lungs must have been punctured, as his breath was sharp and haggard, but there was no sympathy on Betty's part. It was obvious that a man who had no qualms with bashing a dog's head in, or hers, was not worthy of the precious air he tried in vain to breathe. And so, Betty aimed at his head with a grim face and closed her eyes when she pulled the trigger. It was done. Not even a day in this shithole world and she killed someone.
There wasn't much time to think about her guilt and she pressed on. A man stood on the balcony of the museum and he seemed astonished to see Betty as he picked off the allies of the bastard Betty killed. "Hey! Up here on the balcony!" he shouted. "I've got a group of settlers inside and the raiders are about to reach us! Grab another gun and help us, please!"
Something about the desperation in his voice stirred something in Betty. He didn't know her and it was obvious she wasn't great with a pistol but he called on her for help regardless. Maybe if she helped them, they could help her find Shaun, or at least point her in the right direction. Dogmeat barked and pulled on Betty's arm toward the museum. "All right boy, let's do our best in there. Lead the way."
Dogmeat lunged for the raider closest to the doors while another slammed a pool cue onto his back. Dogmeat shook his head violently and tore the arm off the raider with the gun. Betty ran over and slammed the butt of her 10mm pistol into the back of the last raider's head and knocked him out cold. Again, as she did before, Betty closed her eyes when she delivered the final shot to end his life.
"This can't be happening," Betty said to herself as she bashed the door of the museum in with her shoulder. It was a bit unnerving for her, that such behavior came with ease. She didn't have any more room for thoughts such as those, when a bullet pierced her upper arm. The pistol fell from her hands as she reached to put pressure on the wound and ducked behind an overturned desk for cover. "Dogmeat, I need you!"
The German Shepard knocked over another raider in his haste to reach his new owner and licked Betty's cheek with a whimper. She expected to wound to be more painful but figured she was too worked up with fear and adrenaline to feel much of anything.
"Where'd that little bitch go?" a raider shouted. "Make sure we kill that fuckin' dog, too!"
Betty grabbed onto Dogmeat's scruff and he dragged her into a room a few feet away that she didn't notice during the fight. She found a somewhat clean rag on the floor of this room filled with mannequins and tied off her arm enough to stop any bleeding. Betty scratched Dogmeat behind his ears and asked, "I dropped my gun out there, could you get it for me?"
The Sole Survivor couldn't help but chuckle a bit when her dog returned to her, dragging a decrepit combat rifle by the strap. The stairs leading to the second floor of the museum had partially collapsed into the basement. Dogmeat trotted up to a barred door beside a computer terminal and whined.
"Something important in there?" Betty asked him. She pulled on the door handle but it was locked. She looked over at the terminal and wondered if she'd be able to hack it. Her experience with computers was a bit more than most, even in a pre-war sense, but she never hacked into a system before. Several bobby pins sat atop of the terminal and Betty smiled before she began twisting one of the pins into the lock, a habit from her wilder days of youth. The door swung open and she took what appeared to be a fuse from a generator and put it in her pack. Maybe she could trade it somewhere, if it was worth anything.
With Dogmeat's help, Betty managed to get to the top floor of the museum, the bodies of three more raiders in their wake. A door creaked open and Betty lifted the rifle to her shoulder, expecting yet another fight. Instead, she was greeted by the warm smile of the man from the balcony who asked for her aid.
"I don't know who the hell you are, but your timing's impeccable. Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen," said the man from the balcony. He and Betty shook hands before he beckoned her into the small room. A couple about Betty's age huddled together in a corner of the room, the man sobbing quietly into the woman's shoulder. A blue-collar sort typed away on a computer, smoking a cigarette. An old woman sat on a chair beside the desk, her eyes closed.
"Glad to help. I'm Elizabeth Parker, but everyone calls me Betty."
Preston handed Betty a bottle of water and a stimpak before saying, "Well if that's true, we could use some more good will. As you can see, we're in a bit of a mess here."
"The world's changed so much," she answered, injecting the medicine into her arm. "None of this makes sense. Is it always this insane out here?"
Preston raised his eyebrow and looked her over for any injuries he may not have noticed. "You all right? Listen, we need your help and then maybe we can help you, huh? What brought you out here?"
"My baby Shaun's been kidnapped. He's not even a year old."
"That's messed up, I'm sorry. I know how this world could be. A month ago, there were twenty of us. Yesterday, there were eight. Now we're five. First it was the feral ghouls in Lexington and now this mess."
"Ghouls? What are ghouls?" Betty asked.
"Wow, you really aren't from around here, aren't you? Ghouls are...irradiated people. Most are just like you and me. They look pretty messed up, but they're still just people. They're not favored in the Commonwealth, but the ones I'm talking about are different. The radiation rotted their brains and made them feral. They'll rip you apart just as soon as look at you. Anyway, we figured Concord would be a safe place to settle, but those raiders proved us wrong. But, well, we do have one idea," explained Preston.
"One good idea can make all the difference," said Betty with a pat on Dogmeat's head. "Like Dogmeat, here."
Preston smiled and said, "Sturges? Tell her."
The man at the computer turned around to face Betty and they shook hands before he gave his explanation. "All right friend, there's a crashed vertibird up on the roof. Pre-war, you might've seen it. Looks like one of its passengers left behind a real goody. We're talking a full suit of cherry T-45 power armor, military issue."
Betty shook her head and said in a low voice, "This is crazy."
Sturgis laughed and added, "Oh, I ain't done yet. You get the suit and rip a minigun right off the vertibird. Do that and the raiders get an express ticket to hell, ya dig?"
"That's a suicide mission. What makes you think I can do this? I haven't even been out here a day...I...I never even killed anyone until just now!" Betty said.
Preston looked at his boots and said, "I'm the only one who can fight but I can't leave my people alone. If it's true that you've never killed anyone before, well, I'm sorry to say that you're going to have to get used it. This is how it is out here. If you don't shoot first, you're dead. I can provide cover fire for you from the balcony."
Betty was about to answer when Sturgis snapped, "Look new gal, don't know what cave you're from, don't care. But you need to shake off the cobwebs and smell the cordite or we're all dead anyway. You'll need a fusion core to get the suit going again-"
She pulled the cylinder she found downstairs from her pack and held it out to Sturgis before she answered, "Is that what this is?"
"Well all right!", Preston said with a smile as he clapped a hand on Betty's good shoulder. "Looks like our luck is finally turning around. Those raiders are going to find out they picked the wrong fight. Good luck."
Turning to leave, her heart pounding wildly out of control, Betty told Dogmeat to stay behind and made her way towards the room Preston pointed out. Was she really doing this? She kept asking herself that over and over. It was almost as if she were watching someone else who looked just like her live out an action movie. She was a lawyer, not a soldier. Out here in the Commonwealth, however, lawyers weren't needed because justice was dealt by the people themselves with swift violence. What she needed to be from now on was a soldier. A soldier of fortune, a soldier of war, whatever it took. To live in this world, avenge her husband, and find her beloved child, Betty had to grow a backbone. One made out of steel, preferably.
Betty opened the door to the museum roof and there sat the ruined vertibird, teetering precariously on the roof's edge, along with the suit of power armor Sturges mentioned. Gunfire began and that was her cue to get going.
"God help me, I might die out there," Betty whispered. Her nerves overwhelmed her body and she sank to the cracked floor, leaning against what was left of a wall, shivering. "I can't do this..I can't, what the hell am I thinking? I'm not a soldier! I'm not Nate!"
"Betty, let's go!" she heard Preston shout above the noise.
She stood up and with nervous hands, pushed the fusion core into the back of the power armor. She turned a circular, metal wheel and the suit opened with a hiss. She jumped back, falling over a few cardboard boxes. "All righty, didn't expect that," she said to herself. "Wasn't sure what I expected, but it wasn't-
"-C'mon Betty, get out there!" Preston shouted again in a more fearful voice.
Betty held her breath and climbed into the power armor and exhaled loudly as it closed around her. The helmet's glass display lit up and showed Betty her vitals along with a compass. Just ahead of her, the display highlighted the minigun on the other side of the vertibird and Betty took a tentative step onto the bird itself. The aircraft shook with each step and she reached down, wondering how the hell anyone expected her to literally tear a minigun off its platform. She wrapped her hands around the gun and pulled anyway, the gun ripping from its platform with ease.
"Huh, didn't expect that, either," she muttered.
"BETTY!" Preston screamed at full-force. "We're not gonna make it!"
A raider perked up at the sound of Preston's voice from the roof across the street and whooped while he shot at the lumbering idiot in that broken power armor he'd seen earlier. Betty had enough of being shot at her first day in this new Commonwealth and took aim at the raider, the display highlighting the outline of his figure, before unleashing all hell with a roaring spray of bullets from the minigun. The raider was obliterated in seconds, but so was the ledge Betty chose to stand on. It broke out from beneath her and there was no time for fear or any thoughts at all as she tumbled toward the ground and crashed into the tarmac with a loud bang. She sat up, adrenaline fueling her rage, and picked up the minigun off the sidewalk before marching into the fight.
Betty squeezed the trigger and let the minigun do its work as she swept the street clean of the remaining raiders. There was no denying it; this felt fucking incredible. It must've been what Nate felt when he walked the battlefield, and she hoped he would be proud of her at this very moment. Several raiders faced her wrath when the loudest roar Betty ever heard emanated from below the street. About twenty feet ahead of her, the ground crumbled and a massive, clawed hand reached out.
She took a step back and nearly fainted when a gargantuan creature lifted itself straight from the depths of Hell and roared at the blue sky. Two gnarled, curled horns grew out from the top of the creature's head, the scales on its lizard-like body the size of Betty's hands. The creature stood upright and a raider Betty had missed, ran out from behind a building screaming, giving the monster every thing he had with his shotgun. The shells did little to faze this creature and it swatted the raider away without effort, tearing his body into several pieces. And here she thought taking the bar exam was the scariest thing she ever experienced.
"GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE! RUN!" Betty heard Preston scream.
It was too late; the creature fixed its eyes on Betty and charged as she screamed, pulling the trigger of her minigun. The beast reached down mid-run and grabbed a handful of rocks and dirt, throwing them in Betty's direction. She ducked and took aim again. The beast slammed into her, sending them both to the ground and the minigun was kicked out of reach. It grabbed Betty's helmet and roared in her face; she could count every single razor sharp tooth in its mouth. She kicked as hard as she could and her armored foot found the creature's soft belly. It reared back with a howl of pain and Betty scrambled away from underneath it. Just as she got her hands on the minigun again, the beast grabbed her ankle and tossed her across the street with little effort. Betty slammed into the building, pieces of the power armor strewn about. In a daze, she managed to drag the minigun into her lap and shoot at the beast's legs as it turned to attack her again. The bullets did their job and crippled the monster enough to slow it down. Clip empty, she stood up and staggered towards her foe, who lashed out at her with a clawed hand.
"Fuck..you..." she said before crushing the beast's head in with the minigun.
Betty looked up at the balcony and saw the five settlers and Dogmeat, who watched the scene below them unfold with awe. Preston and the others cheered, raising their fists in victory. She had to smile and she did, waving to the settlers before she collapsed, exhausted and unresponsive.