The tunnels were ever murky, smelling of mildew and decomposing flesh; pressing a thick odor on the back of the tongue that you couldn't wash off no matter how hard you scrubbed. It was so eerily silent that just the faintest noise would elope on the wings of a butterfly to summon whatever ancient eldritch slumbered in its tomb. She kicked a bottle with her toe, skidding it across the floor for a millisecond (straight for a one-way trip down the escalator), until he quickly caught it under his boot, preventing a near-total repeat of yesterday's incident.
"Sorry," she breathed at his back. "I can't really see what's at my feet with this thing."
He muttered something she only caught snippets of do not understand and still alive.
"You may hold on to me," he relented with a grouse. When she immediately went for his hand, he brusquely redirected her to the strap on his back. "Here."
They slowly descended, her hand clenching his leather strap like a lifeline in choppy waters, her retrofitted eyes taking in everything that dwelled in the abyss. Charon came to a halt. A few lanterns illuminated a sectioned-off portion of the metro, and he grumbled to himself at the nuisance it created. There wasn't a detour worth taking to get around.
"Wait here," he rasped as he removed her hand…or at least tried to. He spun an evil glare around as she refused to release him. "Let go."
"Don't leave me here alone!" she sniveled.
"It is only for-"
"No!"
He grated through clenched teeth, "It is for your safety. I advise you remain-"
"I won't get in the way," she promised as though she was reciting some feverish prayer. "Just don't leave me here. Please."
A drawn-out, I'm too old for this fucking shit sigh gave her the green light. He brought his face uncomfortably close.
"Be quiet."
She nodded, and he started forward with her toddling behind. A mother duck and its duckling (if the mother duck was seven feet tall and the resurrected image of the harbinger of death, and its duckling was a pretty thorn in its feathered behind). Said mother duck craned his head around a piece of propped plywood for a better visual of the area. Said duckling stared at his butt after he was forced to lean forward. Charon jolted a micro-fraction as something touched his ass. He swiveled his head around so quickly it could've spun off as a dreidel.
"What is it?" he snapped.
She gave him a sheepish look. "Nothing…sorry."
With a glower and shake of his head, they stepped swiftly and soundlessly through the raider encampment, his hands and low growls occasionally discouraging her kleptomaniac habit as she tried to loot anything within reach. A few coma-induced Jet junkies were sprawled on sheets of tatty blankets, blissfully unaware of their presence as they crept on by. A single sentry, enjoying a smoke and a thumb of whiskey, failed to notice the giant sneaking up at his back. His awareness of the threat was made much too late after a hand stifled his shouts and a knife cleanly sliced through an artery. He was dead in minutes.
Evelyn did her due diligence and kept as quiet as her overly-loud nature permitted, shadowing the ghoul as he led her through tunnels and down escalators and past doors and up stairs and-
"Where are we going?" she finally hissed, scoping the binoculars around after they came to another halt. She spied more ferals, twitching and snapping at one another, down another service line. Besides the occasional tick of her Geiger counter, they had completely avoided all dangers during their excursion through the subway tunnels.
Charon nabbed the binoculars from her hands, ignoring her questions as he grumbled to himself. A few minutes passed until he gave her her eyes back, and he continued to slink along the tracks with her in close pursuit. They entered a large lobby area of the metro, the faint rays of sunlight drifting through portions of the collapsed ceiling. It cast a spooky glow through the abandoned passageways, and she was only able to see unaided for a moment before he led her down another escalator to the depths farther below.
A partially lit directory by the billboard track that read Metro Central caught her eye. She pointed to it, whispering, "There's-"
"I know where we are," he cut her off, his voice sharp and a tad more annoyed than usual.
They wandered down another tunnel- a few feral dogs greeted them with slobbery jowls and less than innocuous affections. Charon broke his own ground rule and blasted them into stew-sized chunks. A locked service door was kicked down; the janitor's closet led to a dead end.
"Are you sure-?" she questioned as she pilfered what she could before he dragged her out. "Hey!"
Another traverse across the station, another line. A couple of feral ghouls were dismembered by the blast of his shotgun, his initial caution slowly being whittled away with every door they rounded into. She began to flip through the maps of her Pip-Boy but was unable to pinpoint their exact location due to his long stride threatening to leave her behind (even though he wouldn't dare to).
Charon forced them to pause as he reloaded a new drum magazine, his indistinct mutterings becoming snarls and his scowls burning into loathe-filled glares. Evelyn traced a strange, faded symbol on the wall with a fingertip, one of the few that she had noticed during their journey.
"What is-?" She turned her head to him stomping away.
He slammed a hand over an electrical panel beside a large service door, opening it to a waft of damp air that smelled of wet earth. A large cavern. He trudged on forward, and she listened to the sounds of bullet casings hitting the deck. He came back around, his armor misted with blood and his expression ever-so irate.
"Let us continue," he rasped, the underlying rage just barely contained.
She tiptoed around the carnage, up some metal catwalks, and into another subway system. A new billboard- Red Line.
"Charon, are we-?"
He didn't even look back. "We are not lost."
"Just how long has it been since you've been through here?"
He was utterly silent, and she blew out a breath of hot air; forced to follow in the aftermath of his raging storm, listened to the booming thunder as he took his frustration out on anything that moved. Just when she was about to gripe about his construed sense of direction after entering an abandoned car tunnel, he shoved her into the concrete wall with a flattened palm stemming her complaints. The side of his eyes turned her own to a pack of ferals- healthy in number, sluggish, and oblivious of their new guests. One slid out of a busted window within the skeleton of a bus, slinking to the floor with a groan. She nodded, and he slowly released her to press her forward, guiding her steps as they cut straight across until they made it through the other side, finally emerging into open sunshine. With an elated sigh, she closed her eyes to the sun and breathed the open (fresh?) air.
"Thank God." The Pip-Boy was brought up, the screen set to full brightness as she scrolled through the menu. "So. We're-?" An expected glance was given to her companion, who was frowning at the giant billboard plastered on the side of a building. She placed a hand above her eyes, reading, "GNR. Galaxy News?!"
Charon was already pivoting back around just as she began to bound away. He suddenly had a hold of her elbow, sweeping her off her feet with how abruptly he stopped her momentum.
"There are more tunnels," he rasped plainly.
She shrugged him off, pointing with excitement. "No, this is perfect! I've actually been trying to find this place for my…" Her enthusiastic rant tapered off, and she at once became sullen. "…my dad. I heard he came here."
Charon raised a brow muscle but didn't press the topic. Rather, he motioned with the barrel of his gun at the building. "You wish to proceed?" When she eventually nodded, he declared, "Very well. I must inform you that the Brotherhood is not friendly with ghouls."
"The guys in the shiny armor?" He nodded, and she questioned with a genuine, "Why?"
He gave her a look she couldn't describe. "They are not impartial as you are."
It was apparent that was the extent of his heightened vocabulary and conversation, for he then just stood there as his usual stoic self, waiting on her to carry on.
Step by step, she came closer to possibly reuniting with her father. Inch by inch, the looming radio beacon called, broadcasting an inaudible signal that only seemed to play for her- a record, skipping- Goodbye. I love you. Goodbye. I love you. Goodbye. I love you. The building seemed to transform into a living entity, its walls bulging from its heavy breathing, the cracks and dust moaning with every sigh. The wind cried in her ears, the chorus of screaming from the throats of many wailing within its walls, hands pushing at the frames and pounding to be let out- by God, let me out!
Charon nudged her with his elbow.
She had been standing in place, frozen stiff and staring with widened eyes at the once-more plain and crumbling structure, the metallic halls and florescent lights recessed into the far reaches of her mind. She rubbed at her forehead. "Sorry…just a little tired, I guess."
The closer they got, the more her head whipped around for a way inside, the sun-faded billboard taunting her with its inviting message- ha-ha! So close yet so far, sucker!
"How do we get in?" she pouted. A single door was visible on an upper floor, but with no way to possibly reach it. "Can you get me up there?"
He glanced up. "I do not know."
They maneuvered up a few levels over some concrete debris until she was standing directly below it, her hands reaching for the sky and stars above. "Okay, just-whoa!"
Charon had cupped her ass with both palms and lifted her straight up, her fingertips barely skimming the broken platform. When it was obvious she couldn't hoist herself over, he set her back on her feet.
"A little warning next time, thank you," she said curtly.
He shrugged. "You did not mind before."
She waved him off with spoiled cheeks and looked around. "Isn't there more than one way inside?"
He simply pointed up a small path of some rubble, indicating a way around to the front of the building. The ghoul stepped up first, sure-footed and with laughable ease as he then watched her slide back down on her ass, her cheeks hitting every sharp rock on the descent.
"Ow!" she whined, rubbing at the site and discovering a slight tear. With a huff, she tried again, biffing it near the top and only escaping the previous fate as Charon caught her by the arm. She dusted herself off, trying to recover some semblance of dignity. "Thanks," she said.
He nodded, and then simply watched (again) as she slid on some slippery slate (on her first step) all the way down the other side, her body rolling a few feet before knocking into a dumpster. He carefully stepped forward, sliding all the way down with a precarious balance on a mini landslide.
"Yeah, thanks," she bit out after spitting out some rocks.
He nodded. "Are you injured?"
"Are you injured?" she groveled with a horrible mocking impression. The inquiry was left unanswered as she stalked off, tracing a side avenue until they came into an open courtyard. The biting end of a laser rifle was instantly planted in her face.
"State your business, civilian," the mic-filtered voice rudely inquired. The last term was nearly spat out, as though it was something repulsive that had been chewed on.
Before she could even blink (much less reply) the rifle had been snagged from their hands, the butt end of it cracked into the front of their helmet. The Brotherhood soldier staggered back with a pained gasp and was quickly on the other side of their own tactic.
Charon snarled a warning, the rifle held steady and surely in his hands.
Evelyn immediately placed a hand on his arm, the exposed muscles of his bicep taut under her touch. "Charon-!"
"What the hell is going on here?" A second soldier stepped down from behind a fortified defense at the base of the plaza, his gun held down at his side. "Initiate, you mind explaining why a ghoul has a hold of your rifle?"
The initiate snapped to attention, her hands balled at her sides and feet at a perfect forty-five-degree angle with her heels married together. "They surprised me, Sir!"
The other seemed to sigh. "Go take ten, then report to Jackson for field day duty."
The initiate slammed a fist to her chest, then walked off…but not without a slight sulk in her step.
The Brotherhood soldier gave Charon a calculative assessment. "I wouldn't suggest looking for a fight, unless you got the firepower to take on an entire squad." He redirected his helmet to Evelyn. "I'm Knight Hammond, second in command at the GNR outpost…and, you are?"
"Evelyn," she said, and she moved her hand over the rifle that was still pointing downrange at Hammond's head. She gave the ghoul a look. "And this is Charon, we're very friendly."
Charon grumbled something irately that she couldn't transcribe, but he lowered the gun regardless.
"What is a civilian doing this far in the ruins?" He waved a knife hand at her suit, soiled and stained and fraying. "Much less, a vault dweller?"
Her lips parted to speak, and then her weight left the ground. Grenade. The plume of dirt blasted around them, filling her lungs with hot sand. Charon had picked her up, unnaturally quick for a man his size and stature as he sprinted for some cover. Another explosion set off to their right, blinding them in a cloud of dust and sweeping the ghoul off his feet. All sound went out in her ears, leaving behind nothing but a faint ring.
She coughed, squinting past the swimming vertigo that swayed her head. "Ch-Charon?" Her own voice was muted, she could only feel the vibrations in her throat. There was a swirling pattern in the haze before her eyes, and then a nasty green snarl emerged. She screamed, and all the sound in the world came back like a kick in the teeth.
A shout. "Light them up!"
The super mutant reached out with its sausage fingers, its rancid smell like nothing in comparison. The gaping mouth opened, close enough that she could taste the distasteful odor of its breath as it swamped her face like a cloud in a bog. She whipped onto her back and began to scoot away, kicking at its outstretched hand with the heel of her boot.
"No-no!"
The super mutant dipped forward with a violent jerk, grunting as it lost balance and toppled forward to crash just inches from her. The ghoul on its back jammed the muzzle of his gun firmly at its temple, blowing its skull wide open to splatter them with gory confetti. He dismounted and pulled her behind some cover of piled sandbags, grabbing her by the chin to force their eyes to meet.
"Are you hurt?" he rasped, loud and well enough for her to hear.
"No!" she shouted in return, and he seemed satisfied as he then pulled a grenade from his pocket, ripping the pin out with his teeth to lob it into the fray.
She could hear the brutish yelling of super mutants. Her hands shook, her face hot and sweaty, her breathing much too fast. She slowly peeked around and quickly shrunk back. This was insane! She had come so close…her eyes took in her contracted bodyguard, his steady breathing, his calm demeanor, his quick-fire shots. He was risking life and limb for her, forced to.
The battlefield was chaos. She watched a soldier go down, his gun skittering across the pavement and his hands raised in front of his helmet as a super mutant stepped up to them, his entire ribcage being smashed inward under the weight of its stomp. A band of more soldiers appeared from the ruins, rallying their battle cries and spraying the courtyard with lead and lasers. Charon ducked her head back before a stray bullet could kiss her goodnight.
"Stay down!" he barked. He had a laser burn on his left arm, cauterized and sizzling black flesh. He seemed to assess an escape route through the warzone, for he then sat down beside her. "You are to run for the entrance. I will cover you-"
She gaped at him. "I'm not leaving you here!" She shrugged off his hand before he could push her up. "If you stay, I stay!"
The ghoul stared at her. "You will die."
It was stated as a crystal-clear fact, an absolute. It wasn't a matter of what if. It was cold, it was blunt, it was carved in stone- a commandment sent by God.
She bristled, her voice thick, "I haven't yet." With a blink past the angry tears swelling under her eyelids, she waved at the gun on his thigh. "I can do it."
He hesitated, but then the strap to the holster was unbuttoned, a single snapping sound that somehow cut through all the noise at their backs. The pistol was unholstered and held out in the palm of his glove. With great reluctance, she took it, staring at the well-maintained piece of equipment as though it would swallow her whole.
"Stay close," he cautioned.
The ground suddenly shook beneath their feet, the still-standing structures around them threatening to collapse with every groan and shudder rippling through their supports. The earth quaked, it juddered underneath her. Boom boom boom. It was surely splitting in half, ready to send her back down in that pit, to bury her, put her back where she belonged- now, how did you get out, you silly little vaultie?
They looked over, and for the first time in a very long time, she prayed.
A colossal super mutant, towering over them all like a child with dolls, gnashing its teeth and bellowing a roar so loud it disrupted the air around it. It picked up a soldier at its feet that peppered it with lasers like pelted stones, brought them to its mouth, and bit their head clean off their shoulders.
A wild scream. "GET ON THAT FUCKING FATMAN NOW!"
Evelyn turned and puked; the sour stench insignificant compared to that sickly odor of death intoxicating the air. A muffle of words- she didn't hear them. A rush of wind- she didn't feel him leave. She was too busy trying to stay alive, trying to keep her feet on the ground and not fall upwards through the big empty sky, oh God, how big it was, how vast, how did no one trip and get sent away, so blue, so terrifying. There was so much noise- too much gunpowder tarring her lungs and itching her throat. All the smoke was killing her, how it blinded! The air wouldn't stop vibrating, it rattled her bones! God, where were you? Why do you let this happen?!
A seismic blast ripped a scream from the pit of her belly. The Geiger counter on her Pip-Boy went dramatically off-scale, but she didn't hear it, she couldn't see. She was curled in a tight ball, her head in her knees and her eyes screwed shut against the world-
The rickety wooden shack door is at her side, bangs against the trim with the hot wind in its sails.
(bang bang bang)
The sun. The sun, how bright, how bright, she had never seen something so scorching, so painful, something so far, far away it blisters her skin and melts her hair. She could see it, behind her eyes, no matter how hard she presses the heel of her palms against them.
It was quiet. Much too quiet. No thrum of the air recirculation fans, no faint buzz of the sickly-pale lights, no carried whispers down halls or echoed laughter beyond open doors. Just the sigh of the wind, the clacks of the door.
(bang bang bang)
It was too open. There was too much space. It's going to scoop her up, up and away, a brittle leaf carried by the breeze.
It did just that, and she began to scream.
"Stop it!" a voice barked at her.
She opened her eyes. The ghoul seizing her by the wrists and throttling her quite suddenly became the most wonderful thing in the world to hold onto. He could keep her anchored, not let her fly away. Charon stood as she tried to find comfort in his arms, brusquely lifting her to her feet and holding her upright as her knees began to buckle.
"Get up," he rasped harshly. "You are safe."
With a sniffle and wipe at her wet face, she looked down at the discarded pistol at her feet. She had dropped it, too broken and bruised to defend her own skin. He bent down to retrieve it, securing his weaponry with a turn of his back to her. He didn't meet her weepy eyes. She was forced to face the gruesome fallout alone.
A breeze picked up, and it brought along the scents of sweet shit and blooming decay. The once empty courtyard was now the newest textbook addition of wasteland warfare; the Brotherhood were dragging their lifeless to the side, preparing a makeshift grave; the behemoth was sprawled into the side of the ruins, its charred body crumbling into hot ash. Its mouth was wide open, its eyes boiled from their sockets to forever stare up into the empty sky. A goliath, struck down by the hand of a single man- a slingshot at his belt and a nuclear warhead in his pouch.
War never really did change.
She turned to him, as exhausted as he never showed but should have felt, his broad shoulders always so unyielding to the pressure, his stern mouth never wavering for anything less than a reprimand.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly, but it came out more like a croak. "I-I couldn't...I tried-"
His eyes flit up, just once, then back down to his gear. He heard her, as clear as a fucking crystal bell, but chose to say nothing.
A woman stepped forward, blonde flyaway hairs framing her face. "You okay, kid?"
"Y-yeah," Evelyn blubbered. "Sorry, I-"
"Civilians shouldn't be this far inside the ruins. I suggest you go home once the route back is clear," she interjected. She then gave her a full appraisal, and wasn't very impressed.
Evelyn blinked over at Charon, but he kept unusually quiet and made no suggestion.
"I actually came here, for something," she admitted. "I didn't mean to get in the way."
"Look, I'm not telling you how to live your life, I'm just telling you how to keep living it." The woman then turned her head and gave a twirl of her fingers in the air, the mechanical suit whirring with the motion. "Set up a perimeter, check for any more casualties. I want this building secured before nightfall." When the group behind her back disbanded to their duties, she gave Evelyn one last glance. "You got a name, civilian?"
"Evelyn," she said sheepishly, then pointed to the ghoul at her back. "Charon."
"Charon." The woman gave a nod of her head, polite and respectful. "Thanks for the hand." She then left, barking more orders across the courtyard for everyone to hear.
Charon stepped past for the entrance, only stopping to half turn his head and give Evelyn another look, as though he was actually seeing her for the first time, before continuing to walk away.