Mutatis Mutandis 4
The Northern wilderness was rough terrain, with sudden valleys, steep hills, and unassailable cliffs which would force constant detours and course corrections. Yet Jason seemed to know where he was, even without having to check his Pipboy. He looked at home there. Far more comfortable than he ever had in the Citadel's laboratories. Sarah let her mind wander, knowing that he would see anything coming before she ever had a chance to react anyway.
They followed the rail line south for a time, past copses of tangled dead trees, and pools of irradiated muck. They were forced to pass under the snaking monolithic structure when it took a sharp turn and veered off southeast. The trip was quiet and uneventful. Reminiscent of their first trip together, albeit that journey had been in a different direction: west towards the Pitt's train tunnel and slaver encampment.
As the sun crawled higher into the sky, Sarah began to notice a marked difference in Jason's stance and bearing. Though the man always traveled in a state of heightened alertness, he began to grip his rifle a little more tightly, and scan the horizon with a worried look. Eventually he came to a dead stop, put away his assault rifle and shrugged off his sniper rifle, using the scope to examine the distant forests to the east and west.
The day was clear, and far off in the western distance, Sarah could see the grey vague silhouettes of the satellite dishes atop the distant Satcom Array pillars. Paradise Falls was somewhere south, slightly closer, but a copse of deadened trees blocked her view. The Wanderer stood for a full two minutes, searching the countryside.
Eventually Sarah could stand the suspense no longer. She tapped him on the shoulder. "Jason, what is it?"
"There's nothing here." He replied quietly, peered through the scope. "I've never traveled this easily through the north. We haven't seen a damned thing. NO radscorpions. No deathclaws. No yao guai. Not even a molerat."
"And you're complaining?" she asked. "Why don't we thank our lucky stars and move on?"
"It's just… odd." He said, lowering the sniper rifle.
"Let's keep moving." Sarah suggested.
He nodded. "I think we should pick up the pace."
They broke out of the mountainous northern wastes at around nine O'clock. The terrain was of a more reasonable variance, and infinitely more negotiable. They paused for a small rest atop a slight hill. Sarah set her hunting rifle beside her and took a seat on a small boulder. She proceeded to open her canteen. Jason sat with his sniper rifle on his knees. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and scanned down it, as absorbed as Sarah had ever seen him. She leaned across the small gap between them, trying to read upside down.
"It's the Mariposa report." He explained absently, his eyes fixed on the page. "Rothchild gave it to me before we set out."
"All of it?" she asked curiously; he was only holding two pages.
"All that matters." He replied. He stared down at it a moment longer, then handed it across to her. Sarah took it and read through the report several times, making sure she hadn't missed anything. Then she looked back up at him.
For once, Jason's shield was down. Of the cold, stoic, inhuman Wanderer, there was no trace. Just a young man, admittedly heavily armed, but she knew she was witnessing his true face. The content of the memoir had disarmed him in a way Sarah hadn't entirely believed was possible. The closest she had ever managed was during an awkward conversation in a train tunnel after they had dealt with The Pitt. Jason had told her his real name, and getting even that much out of him had been a struggle.
She smiled as she reflected on just how much the man had changed over the past few months. Her attitude was somewhat tempered by her very real awareness of her own transformation, which had taken her in almost exactly the opposite direction.
"Albert Cole…" she read.
"I wish I could have met him." Jason told her honestly. "We'd have had a hell of a lot to talk about."
"It is amazing how similar your stories are." She agreed. "I can't imagine what it must feel like, not being the only one anymore."
"I am the only one, though." He replied regretfully. "Look at the timestamp. That was written over a century ago. But he's remembered by name. By the Brotherhood, by his own tribe…"
"You don't think you'll be remembered?" she asked.
Jason laughed. "Until I came back with you from The Pitt, I didn't even think I'd be missed."
At around eleven O'clock, they came upon another set of ruins, quite different from the occasional bombed out residences. These ruins were tightly packed, with enormous piles of grey concrete and twisted rebar. It would not have looked out of place in the least negotiable streets of downtown D.C..
Jason pulled Sarah down behind the nearest crumbled wall. He directed her attention at the building across the street. The rear section had been blown out, and was strewn across the back of the property, leaving a staircase open to the air, and several doors opening onto twelve foot drops.
"That's the Germantown police station." He told her quietly. His silenced assault rifle was out, steadied against some rebar. "It used to be a refugee camp, right after the war. Now it's a Supermutant stronghold."
Sarah stared at the building and surrounding ruins with renewed caution. "Wonderful. What's the plan?"
"Stay here, and-" the Wanderer paused, staring at her. She could tell he was caught in some inner argument. Eventually he shrugged off his sniper rifle and handed it to her, looking as surprised by the action as she felt. "Circle around to the right, and keep an eye out." He said, pointing at the long row of ruined buildings. "I'm going through that back door. The Supermutants use the cells here to store their captives before they ship them off to Vault 87. I'm going to clear the inside. Just take care of anything out front. Unless it's an Overlord. In that case, just sit and wait."
Sarah stared, stunned. "Are you feeling alright, Jason? You're trusting someone else. With a plan. And a weapo-"
"Don't say it like that." He snapped, growing slightly red-faced. "I told your dad I'd learn how to work with eth Brotherhood. Besides, you survived Point Lookout. After that a couple mutants shouldn't be a big problem. Call this a trial run."
"Okay…" Sarah said slowly. "I'll do my best."
"Do your best not to get shot." He replied. "You don't heal like I do. And watch the wasteland behind you. Make sure nothing sneaks up."
"Will do. Good luck." She replied as he rose and crossed the street. He darted up the staircase, keeping low and silent, and made his way to the nearest door. Sarah slipped across the gap between the two ruined buildings and circled around the police station, keeping as close to the center of the ruins as she could, trying to keep hidden from all lines of sight, both from the station, and the surrounding wasteland. At last she found a space on a ruined second floor. She was able to peer easily at the front of the station through an old window, and her frame was hidden from the wasteland by a large concrete pillar. Balancing herself properly was an awkward maneuver, but eventually she managed to attain a comfortable position, and centered the scope's crosshairs on the camp.
The courtyard was empty, as far as she could see. Brown tents and sandbag barricades had been set up around the inner perimeter of the station, up against the wire fences which surrounded the compound. It was an impressively defaceable position, and Sarah recognized the signature angle iron and hanging bags of flesh which signaled that this was Supermutant camp. Yet there were no bulky green shapes moving from tent to tent. She could hear none of the supermutants' guttural laughter or simple speech. The camp looked completely deserted.
After about ten minutes of uneventful waiting, Jason exited the front door of the compound. He searched the buildings for her and found her within three seconds. She watched him shrug helplessly, and sling his silenced rifle over his back.
They met up on the street out front.
"Nothing." He reported, pacing anxiously. "No mutants inside. No prisoners. No supplies. Absolutely nothing."
"So what?" she asked. "Maybe they're out collecting more captives…"
"No." He replied quickly, shaking his head. "No. Even then they'd have guards for the prisoners. But there is no one and nothing in there." His face glazed over. "He made them fall back to D.C.."
"He?" Sarah demanded. "He? What 'He'? You never said anything about a 'He'!"
"Brutus. There's a smart supermutant somewhere in D.C.. He was behind the Purifier sabotage. We're expecting an attack sometime in the near future. It's a long story…" He looked around the abandoned outpost. "I guess it's a little nearer than I thought."
Sarah stared in stunned silence. "…And with all of this on the horizon, you decided to simply run off and relax with me in Oasis?"
"You're important." He replied. She made to cuff him across the head, but he dodged neatly backwards.
"That's no excuse!" she snarled.
"I don't have excuses." He replied. "I have reasons. The Brotherhood is going to need your father's leadership, and your experience. You needed fixing. Besides, they asked me."
Sarah glared at him, ignoring the last addendum. The thought of an intelligent mutant was terrifying to her. The vast majority of the Brotherhood's strategies relied on the mutants being stupid. They would blunder angrily into killzones, ignore cover, and unwittingly do their best to make themselves obvious and easy targets. Higher intelligence was really the only advantage which the Brotherhood of Steel had ever held in the fight.
She thought of Leo, the Supermutant she had met during her first trip with Jason. That particular mutie had been a pacifist, but if even one of the others possessed the same intellect, and lacked the scruples, they could put the overtaxed Brotherhood in a very serious position indeed. Especially if they got the majority of muties to follow them. It was a dangerous and unwelcome prospect.
"I have…resources" The Wanderer explained further. "I've seen and done some… unusual things in my time. You know that better than anyone else, Sarah. I've shared all my stories with your father. Told him all I know. You've been outfitted with my enclave gear, and some special weapons I came across. The Brotherhood knows everything I do, and they have access to all of my resources."
"You didn't think of sharing any of this with me?" she demanded.
"You were at Oasis to recuperate, not participate." He replied evenly. "And let's be honest: three weeks ago, you wouldn't have cared either way."
Sarah relented. He had at least gotten that much right, but she was still feeling somewhat stung by the lack of what she considered to be vital intelligence. There wasn't much she could do about it now, though. And in the capital wasteland, it didn't do to dwell too long in the past.
"Let's just get back." She said. "We'll sort it out at the Citadel."
An extra short chapter, but I've been writing between breaks in studying. Considering how sporadic my muse has been over the past few weeks, I'm just happy I'm getting anything out at all. Chalk this one up to more mood and character building. Not much else to say. Will post whenever I have enough material for the next.