Chapter 13 - Here and There
Marilyn awoke feeling nauseous. She cracked open her eyes and had to immediately shut them again, the bright light stinging. But after a few more attempts, she was finally able to keep them open. Glancing around, she could see that night had turned to day. Everything was brighter in hue. And most wonderful of all was the beautiful blue sky! It was dotted with fluffy white clouds, which lazily rolled on by.
Marilyn went to tilt her head up for a better view but was stopped by a pressure against the top of her head. Glancing up, she quickly identified the source of the pressure. Dick was leaning his head against hers, fast asleep. Marilyn blushed at this, and then even more so when she realized his arm was still slung around her shoulders, meaning they had essentially cuddled all night long.
But as her stomach did a somersault, she couldn't think about that anymore. She shoved Dick away, startling him awake, mere moments before she lurched forward and vomited into the grass. She heard him grunt and sit up, but she couldn't do anything more than retch and continue to vomit.
"Sheesh, you still ain't feelin' so hot, huh?" Dick frowned, patting her on the back.
"I… ugh… I need…" Marilyn gasped, pausing to wipe her mouth, "I need… alcohol."
"Aren't you already sick enough?" Dick asked uncertainly, "What good will getting drunk do?"
"Not to drink," Marilyn turned to him, "For antiseptic."
"Oh, I gotcha," Dick nodded quickly before pausing, "Uhh, I didn't bring any."
"That town…" Marilyn looked towards where Dick had previously pointed out, "Think they're friendly?"
"Dunno," Dick followed her gaze, "I never heard any gunshots or anything."
"That sounds like a pretty good sign," Marilyn shrugged, moving to get up.
"You sure you're up for the walk?" Dick asked anxiously, helping her up when she struggled.
"I'm feeling a lot better already," She gave him a reassuring smile, "Way better than last night."
Dick glanced at her uncertainly but eventually relented, nodding.
"Alright, but hold on," Dick paused, going over to his pack.
Marilyn was surprised when he pulled out a pistol, handing it to her.
"Found it inside," He explained, "Figured you must've dropped it."
"Yeah," Marilyn grimaced, staring at the gun.
"I know you don't wanna," Dick sighed, "But it's too dangerous to go without it."
"Yeah," Marilyn repeated, taking it from him and shoving it into the holster.
Dick frowned as he watched her before slipping his backpack on. Marilyn glanced away. She knew what he was thinking. He didn't have to say it. Leaving the Vault was her idea. She chose this. So what right did she have to complain?
"Don't," Dick said quietly, making her flinch.
"Huh?" She blinked at him.
In response, Dick just leaned over and poked between her knitted brows.
"Don't think about it," He said before trying to give her a reassuring smile, "Just stay with me, alright?"
"Alright," Marilyn nodded, trying to smile back.
As she and Dick made their way to the road, Marilyn fiddled with her Pip-Boy, tuning in to that radio signal she'd found before. It was the middle of a song where a high-pitched man was singing about a woman named Sherry. Dick shot her a quizzical glance, to which Marilyn just shrugged. It wasn't that the song was bad, just a bit strange. Though the more she listened, the more she enjoyed it.
After proceeding a short ways down the road, they passed a stone archway with a large wooden sign slung over the apex. It read 'Diamond Beach' carved into the wood. But Marilyn wasn't really looking at the sign. Rather, she was looking at the topless bald man seated at the top of the archway, legs dangling over the top of the sign. He held a hunting rifle in his hands and had a bandolier strapped over his bare chest.
"Well, well!" He called down, pulling the cigarette from his lips, "Lookee what we got here, Ratch!"
"What's that, Mitch?" A tall man with a blond mullet strode up to him from one of the rooftops near the archway.
The taller man, Ratch apparently, was wearing a loose tank top and a pair of denim shorts. Unlike the seated man, Mitch, his rifle was longer and had a scope. A sniper rifle, Marilyn would guess.
"Got us a couple of lovebirds out for a morning stroll on the beach!" Mitch grinned, gesturing towards Marilyn and Dick.
"Gotta love those long walks on the beach, Mitch," Ratch grinned back, "Awful romantic!"
Dick looked between two armed men uneasily as they began to laugh. Marilyn just blushed.
"E-Excuse me," Marilyn called up after their laughter had died down, "Is there a doctor around?"
"Sure, Doc Cherry," Mitch nodded before pointing his thumb beyond his shoulder, "End of the block, in the old grocery store."
"You kids just just mind your P's and Q's while here in Diamond Beach, y'hear?" Ratch sniffed, holding his rifle readily as a silent threat.
"We're not here for any trouble," Dick frowned.
"Well now! Best get a move on then!" Mitch nodded back, "But remember, we'll be watching you, so no funny business!"
Marilyn and Dick nodded back before continuing on. It was a bit surprising to see how a settlement had arisen from the ashes of an old pre-war city. A majority of the old buildings appeared to be inhabited, despite their varying states of decay. Only the ones so structurally damaged that they had collapsed in upon themselves were abandoned. The majority of the rest appeared to be residences, though there were a few corner stores at the end of the block. One of those stores was the grocery store mentioned by the guard.
After stepping inside, Marilyn was surprised to see a heavyset man snoring loudly as he leaned on an old conveyor belt. Realizing he was asleep, Marilyn hesitantly reached out and tapped his bald head.
"Excuse me?" She said as she gave him another poke.
The man leapt up with a start, brandishing a cleaver. Both Marilyn and Dick jumped back. The man blinked for a moment, seemingly realizing he wasn't in danger, and set the knife on the conveyor belt.
"Um, are you Doc Cherry?" Marilyn asked nervously.
"I ain't a doctor, I'm a butcher," Doc Cherry sniffed, "But I'm the closest they got, so yeah, Doc's what they call me. Whaddya want?"
"Can you give me something to treat an infection?" Marilyn asked, "And I need a general antiseptic, too. So I can clean the wound."
Doc Cherry grumbled for a moment, moving over to one of the grocery shelves. He grabbed an unmarked white pill bottle and a tall white liquor bottle, bringing them over to set them on the conveyor belt.
"80 caps," He sniffed, "75 for the antibiotics, 5 for the vodka."
"Caps?" Marilyn blinked cluelessly.
"Yeah, you got a problem with the price?" Doc Cherry perked a brow.
"Um, I'm not sure what… what're caps?" She asked nervously.
"Caps," Doc Cherry looked at her impatiently, "Bottle caps? Money?"
"I don't…" Marilyn shook her head.
"Wait, that's what they're for?" Dick looked up.
"Huh?" Marilyn looked back at him.
"I found this bag of 'em on that, uh… guy," He explained, fishing around in his pack for a dirty plastic baggy full of Nuka-Cola bottle caps, "I thought he was just a collector or something. This what you mean?"
Dick held the bag out towards Doc Cherry, who snatched it from him. Once he'd pulled out his 80 caps, he handed the significantly-less-full bag back.
"You kids ain't gonna last a day out here," Doc Cherry sighed as Dick put the baggy away, "You want some free advice? You should get yourself some real protection."
"We already have weapons," Marilyn answered cautiously.
"Nah, what I mean is, you should hire a merc," Doc Cherry clarified, "Somebody to look out for ya. Because, otherwise, you kids are as good as dead."
Marilyn frowned, recalling that gruff man from before was apparently a gun-for-hire.
"How do we know we could trust a mercenary?" She squinted.
"Well, mercs come in all shades, good and bad," Doc Cherry shrugged, "But, you ask me, the only good merc is the one you're paying."
Marilyn glanced aside uncertainly.
"We'll think about it," Dick answered for her, glancing over.
"You should head up to the Saloon, a few blocks up. Past the Pier. That's where the mercs usually gather," Doc Cherry said as he handed over the antibiotics and vodka, "Not sure if it's Ricardo or the beer they go for, but you might be willing to find somebody willing to stick their neck out for a couple of Vault kids. For the right price."
After they stepped out of the grocery store, Marilyn took a seat on the curb. Dick sat down beside her, handing over the antibiotics and vodka. She took the antibiotics first, popping one of the pills into her mouth. Then she opened the bottle of vodka, taking a swig to wash it down. It didn't quite go as planned. The vodka burned her throat and she coughed, nearly spitting up the pill, but forced herself to swallow it regardless. It felt like swallowing down a stone.
Once the ordeal was over, Marilyn coughed and wiped her mouth excessively. She wished she'd thought to bring something to drink to make the unpleasant taste go away. As if reading her mind, Dick paused to take off his backpack and fish around inside of it. Then he handed her a circular tin of purified water. Marilyn blinked at him curiously as she took it.
"My dad gave me some stuff before I left," He shrugged.
"You told him you were leaving?" Marilyn asked as she opened the container.
"No," Dick shook his head, "But I guess he figured out that I was gonna follow you."
Marilyn paused to take a sip of the water.
"So, what now?" Dick asked, "Are we gonna go to that Saloon?"
Marilyn hummed, thinking about it for a moment before nodding. She had to admit, Doc Cherry had a point. They were as lost as babes in the woods. They didn't know anything about the way the world worked out here. Maybe having someone to guide them along would be useful.
"The Doc said it was a few blocks up, right?" Marilyn said before taking a sip of her water, "So it can't be far. We should at least go check it out."
"Alright, sounds like a plan," Dick nodded, slapping his hands on his knees before standing.
Marilyn took the hand Dick offered to help her up moments later, pleased that she didn't blush when their hands connected. She supposed it would be silly to blush at something like momentarily holding hands, especially after they had more or less cuddled all night.
But then, of course, recalling as much lit her face up like a charm.