Raiders and Minutemen alike yelled and scrambled in the opposite direction of the beast.
Verrah heaved the minigun toward the monster. Only to realize she drew its attention to her. Eyes widening, she stepped back a few paces. Then turned around and ran, taking her hand off the trigger and holding the mini gun close to her.
The drake-like creature flung aside anyone in its way. Stopped in the middle of what had been an intense fire fight and roared.
The Vault dweller took advantage of its brief pause, lugging the rotary machine gun back toward the creature. Sending more rounds into its body. Screeching when it turned to her again. She kept firing this time. Even as she clunked backwards in the heavy power armor.
The beast moved from staggering on its hind legs to galloping on all four. Honed in on what was causing it the most pain. With a piercing roar and reared head, it swiped Verrah off her feet.
She rattled around in her power armor. Eyes closed and teeth gritted. Extremely thankful for the extra protection. She ended up on her back, her grip tightening on the minigun. While she was disoriented, she knew enough to cease fire during the rag-dolling. And to prime the gun again for the shape bearing down on her.
Yelling with determination, she aimed the rotary machine gun on the creature's underbelly. Not giving up for anything. Her heart wanted to pound out of her chest, but she wanted to keep the organ beating. And she did not like being cornered.
The minigun glowed at this point. Smoke rising from the rapidly spinning barrels. But the rounds flew.
The horned monster pushed forward. Slashing at the air, roaring in defiance.
Verrah held the gun steady. Still on her back. Sweating and waiting to be ripped from her power armor in a bloody mess. Waiting to be chewed to bits and digested in the beast's stomach.
The creature threw one last hand full of talons up into the air before collapsing atop the minigun.
She didn't even have the energy to grunt when it fell on her. Not even when the scaly head flopped beside hers. Her own head dropped back, and she released a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Heart rate not decreasing. She breathed deep a few times, doing her best to steady it.
The Minutemen were able to finish off the last of the raiders. Rushed to her aid. Working together, they yanked the drake off her.
Preston Garvey ran out of the museum, followed closely by the German shepherd. "Are you alright?"
Verrah lifted a thumbs up then let her arm fall back to the ground. Still out of breath. "Uh…lemme, lemme get back to you on that." But she soon forced herself to her feet so she could at least get out of the suit of armor.
When she stepped out, she stumbled. Clearly shaken.
Thankfully, Preston caught her. He shook his head. "Man, I don't know who you are, but you sure have impeccable timing. We all would have been dead if it wasn't for you."
She offered a worn-out grin. "Thanks. And, uh, you're welcome, I guess? I'm just glad that thing is dead."
An older woman in a faded teal jacket and unique turban approached. She chuckled. "Back when I was a youth, I once killed these creatures with a single shot. Without the fancy power armor and minigun. But a job well done."
The African-American sighed, making sure the Vault dweller was okay to be released and adjusting his grip on the laser musket. "This is Mama Murphey. She claims to see the future."
Verrah glanced between the two.
Mama Murphey nodded. "It's the chems. Gives me the power for my Sight. I can see the things that were, things that will be, and even some things that are, right now."
The sole survivor gave a slow nod as Preston sent her an apologetic look.
However, the seer continued. "I've seen you, too. You came out of the ground after a long hibernation."
Verrah's ice blue eyes darted to her. "How—?"
Preston cleared his throat. "Verrah, I do have a question for you. If you don't mind."
While her gaze remained on the elderly woman, she spoke to him. "Shoot."
"I was wondering if you would like to become the new general of the Minutemen. One good thing about being the last of the actual Minutemen, is no one can argue with me if I say you're the new general."
Now, her full attention returned to him. "What?"
He shifted his weight. "After what you did today—helping us, taking charge of the armor and gun, killing the beast—you'd be perfect. We need someone brave and strong like you to lead us."
Verrah about choked on her already dry throat. She was neither brave nor strong. She initially ran from the drake-thing. She had no idea what this wasteland was like. Not to mention, she was never really the leader type. She had always done her own thing. But what did she say to an offer like this?
The hopeful look in Preston's brown eyes made her inwardly sigh. They had just met, and he wanted her to lead his group? How desperate were these people? Then again. Exactly how desperate was this new world? It did seem pretty desperate to her.
"I'm not sure," she finally managed. "I don't see myself being a good fit in that kind of role. I've never led anybody or anything."
"I just watched you go toe-to-toe with a twenty foot tail irradiated lizard. You're telling me you can't keep an open mind after that?"
She went to say something but stopped. He did have a point. Glancing over shoulder, she studied the dead body of the irradiated lizard. She didn't know that she would consider what she did going toe-to-toe with it. More like fleeing and finally killing it before it could kill her.
Her gaze flickered back to the African American. "Are you really sure you want me? Isn't there someone else who's more qualified?"
The questions didn't deter his cheery nature. "From where I'm standing, you're the most qualified person. Look, I know it's a lot to ask. From anyone. We have a lot of rebuilding to do, but we'll get rid of those raiders yet."
Verrah rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms. Wanting nothing more to explain that she had just woken up, only to find it was two hundred years later, and she had no idea what to do. She wasn't even sure about finding this Nick Valentine detective.
Preston presented an understanding smile. Placed a hand on her shoulder. He sensed he was overwhelming her, and he wasn't about to drive away the potential he could see she had. "How about this? Until we can settle down more, how about you spread our good name across the Commonwealth? Reassure people that the Minutemen are not a lost cause, as many have come to believe."
The German shepherd finally nosed his way into the group. He whined at Verrah and shoved his head under her hand.
The Vault dweller smiled, petting him.
Mama Murphey appeared to approve. "Mm. I see you have befriended Dogmeat."
The sole survivor rose a brow. "Dogmeat?"
"Yes. That's what he goes by. He's his own man, but I have foreseen him traveling with you. He'll make a fine companion."
Verrah smiled again. Ruffled the dog's ears. "Dogmeat it is, then."
Dogmeat barked his appreciation. Tongue flopping out and tail wagging.
Preston shifted his weight once more, hoping for an answer this time. "Would you do us the honor of becoming our general?"
Four other people, who she had originally assumed were Minutemen, approached. They stood on Preston's side. Looked to him for a moment then turned their stares to the white-haired woman. Now that they were up close, they appeared to be refugees, rather than a trained militia.
She took a deep breath. Even though Preston had said he was the last Minuteman, he still used the collective pronouns. He truly believed in the cause, and it was clear how much it meant to him. She didn't think she could disappoint him. Or the other five people. "If it means all I have to do is spread word, I think I can handle that."
His face lit up, and he grabbed her hand, shaking it vigorously. "This is great! You won't regret this, I promise. We just need a place to call home, and we'll be set. That's what we were trying to do when the raiders caught us held up here."
It took her a moment to understand his words after the hand shaking rattled her brain. "Uh, home? Sure. I mean, we can use Sanctuary for all I care." Her eyes suddenly narrowed. "Just leave my house alone."
When all she received was a blank expression, she lightened. Coming up with something to tell them. "I've been there for a bit and already picked out a house. Finders keepers, you know?"
Preston smiled and nodded. "The unfortunate yet necessary ways of the Commonwealth. I understand. It's not a problem. You're coming with us, right?"
"I actually have a mission of my own. Besides, word needs to be spread, right? You all go ahead. Take the power armor and minigun for extra measure." Secretly, she wanted to hoard it all, but she wasn't about to admit that. "My Mr. Handy is there. His name is Codsworth. Tell him I sent you, and he'll be nice."
He clasped arms with her. "Thanks, Verrah. Here, take this laser musket. It used to belong to the previous general. With how valiantly you defended us today, I'm sure he would want you to have it."
Her eyes widened. "Oh, no. There's no way I—" But the sincerity in his eyes gave her pause. She smiled. "I would be honored. Thank you."
After he handed it over, he motioned for the others to get ready to leave. Seeing that someone grabbed the armor and gun. Gave one final grin. "See you soon. Godspeed…general."
Verrah's lips formed a forced smile as she watched him leave. Looked down at the laser musket in her hands.
What did she just get herself into?
She exhaled hard through her nose. Guess she would have to wait and see. For now, more pressing matters…well, mattered. She patted her leg. "Come on, Dogmeat. We gotta reach Diamond City at some point."
The German shepherd happily trotted alongside her.
Mama Murphey suddenly grabbed her arm. "I need to tell you something."
Verrah stopped and turned. Noting that the woman with "Sight" had already allowed the others to go on slightly ahead. "Sure."
"Two weeks ago, I had a vision of you emerging from a big door with three slashes on the front."
She searched the seer. "Vault 111."
The elder's eyes sparkled. "I know you're searching for something. I had another vision before you emerged. You will find what you're looking for."
Her expression changed, and she leaned forward to better hear the raspy voice. "What? When? How? Where?"
"Ah, I must not reveal too much. Besides, the chems have worn off."
The survivor frowned. Convenient. But she passed it off. "You wouldn't happen to have a pencil or pen, would you?"
Mama Murphey's eyes twinkled once more. "I do have a pencil. You'll need it. It's one of the keys to your discovery for your future."
Verrah's brows furrowed, but she took the pencil. "Thanks…" She made sure the older woman caught up with the rest of the group before deciding to continue. Checked on Dogmeat once more. Then headed southeast, further into the night.