A/N: Salutations from the realm of imaginary stories within other imaginary stories. As promised, here is the rest of this month's chapter. This one is light on action, but is necessary to move the story along. I'm trying to make a dynamic between the M/C and Nate that borders on tenuous without being awkward, so let me know what you all think about that their interactions. Things will begin moving into the beginning of the game's story shortly, but after the first few events, it's going to get interesting and, hopefully, go in directions you guys don't expect. Enjoy!

Chapter 5: The Journey Begins (Literally)

After a moment of watching the group indulge in Marcy's grieving I looked to Julian who had his right arm over Alexandra's shoulders. Blood was dripping from the hem of his left leg. It didn't take long to find the wound: a small hole on the outside of his left thigh right over his knee. It was close enough to the edge it could almost be called a graze.

As Alexandra helped her son to the kitchen counter, Preston turned to the remaining two men.

"Can you guys take watch, we'll deal with this."

Dan opened and close his mouth several times, trying to get something out, but no words came. Eventually he took a deep breath and nodded. Sturges gave one more look at Marcy before abruptly whirling toward the door and marched outside without a word.

I followed the engineer into the cooling night. He stopped in the middle of the street, fist tight around his handgun's grip. I couldn't see his face, but it wasn't a stretch to imagine his jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth. Dan stopped beside me, just as stiff. A twinge of empathy teased at the back of my mind, but a much larger part of it told me standing here without having eyes on the perimeter was a great way to get shot.

"I'll take the forest, Dan watch the southeastern bank, Sturges on the bridge."

Both men hesitated. "You can't give us a sec", Sturges asked, still staring at the ground between his feet.

"If we get caught off guard more will die."

Their stiff body language screamed 'argument', but they knew I was right.

Sturges was the first one to relent. "Fine." He never looked toward me before stomping toward the bridge, and a moment later, Dan began trudging to the southeast side of town.

I walked to the path leading into the hills above Sanctuary.

Should I have given them a few minutes?

What happens if more Raiders are around?

Are they going to be useful sentries with the state of mind they're in?

They can still act as early warning. They'll have time to mourn once we're sure the danger is gone.

Maybe…

I spent the rest of the night patrolling Sanctuary's northern perimeter. If Preston's estimation was reasonably accurate, we wouldn't have anything else to worry about, but it paid to be safe. He did underestimate their numbers.

At least it let me marvel at the unobstructed night sky.

It brought back memories of countless hours of torturous training with the rest of Gamma as well as on my own once I was split off.

Mendez and later Katrina both made a point of using 'real life' simulation training which meant multiple days in a maddening variety of environments from frozen hellscapes to burning deserts. The one constant between all of them was the sky: the thin layer of atmosphere that gave way to an unending expanse of space, stars, and galaxies staring back at me every time I looked up into their depths. Even now, it was awe-inspiring.

Now though… now I felt isolated. In my reality, we had colonized countless planets and most of my down time was spent up there, floating among the stars. I couldn't do that now; I was stuck with my feet planted on this dead version of humanity's home world without any way to return. Not one I know of.

No matter what I did, my thoughts always wandered back to that, not how to get back or who might want/need me back, but that I'm here in the first place. It seemed… odd.

I found myself back at the ravine standing over the Raiders I'd killed as the sun broke the east horizon. It dyed everything an appropriately bloody red.

It still didn't make any sense; why would their tactics be so poor? Even someone with rudimentary knowledge of combat would have put up a better fight.

Curiosity got the better of me; the Raiders in Concord had various drugs on them, so if these guys did too, it was possible their cognitive functions were impared. I rummaged through a few of the dead men's satchels. It didn't take long to find more aerosol dispensers and syringes. Even if they weren't inebriated while they were fighting, the amount they had on them leads me to believe they were regular users. With tactics as poor as theirs, Raiders would most likely only pose a threat to smaller settlements like this one.

The all too familiar sensation of being watch tingled at the back of my head. I turned to the slope leading back down to Sanctuary to see Nate walking toward me through the dead forest, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The man looked exhausted.

"Good morning. Get any sleep?" I shook my head. "Is that another one of your superpowers? Don't need to rest?"

More sarcasm? "No."

"Is that no, you don't need to rest, or no it isn't one of your superpowers?" The ex-soldier's eyes were locked on me with a fixation that only came from someone desperately trying to ignore something else. I looked at the group of bodies around me.

"I'll leave that up to you."

A smile split the approaching man's face. "I knew there was at least a little humor in there!" He stopped at the edge of the crowd of dead. The ex-soldier's tenuous grin faltered as he looked at the remnants of the Raider gang. Silence bloomed once again as he studied the results of my one sided fight.

Nate's expression told me he didn't know how to feel about what he was seeing. "This is pretty… terrifying you know? These guys, the ones down in town… that's a lot of people." I shrugged. I've never taken the time to consider what I do from someone else's perspective. "You said this was normal for you?"

"Yes."

He shook his head. "We could have used you." His eyes found my faceplate again. "What was your war like?"

That was a loaded question; what was the Human Covenant war like or what was my war like? Mine carried me far past fighting the Covenant, hell I probably spent as much time fighting other humans as I did aliens before the war ended. My war was covert operations, strategic strikes, and high level assassinations. What ends those operations were moving toward… that wasn't my job to worry about.

"Humanity was fighting against the Covenant, a conglomerate of alien races that decided we were an affront to their religion." Images of the attack on my home flashed through my mind again.

"So… the Covenant were attack-"

"They were exterminating us."

Nate seemed to shrink. "Did you win?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Eventually."

A question found its way onto the man's face, but I could see his internal struggle with it. Once he did begin asking, the words snuck out, as if they were afraid to be heard. "Your family, they died during the war. That's why you didn't answer yesterday, right?"

More images. More shouting, more shooting, running, crying. Staring at the ground between my feet while I ran. Shoes, legs, shorts, shirt, stomach, hands, arms, chest. All covered in blood. Someone came up behind me, grabbed me around the waist and kept running. I didn't know where they were going. I hung there, limp as a doll while they took me somewhere. Anywhere.

"They died when I was young", I managed to bite out.

"Is that why you enlisted?"

You could say that. "Yes."

"I'm so-"

An apology? No. I don't need- I don't want someone feeling sorry for me. My life is what it is; doesn't matter what I or anyone else want or how I feel about it.

"No. I don't need your pity."

He shot me a confused, concerned expression but held up his hands. "Okay, I understand."

No you don't.

The smell of burning flesh and the sound of screams was so strong it was almost tangible.

What happened?

I have to shut this out, pack it back away. This isn't important to the mission.

The ex-soldier decided to change the subject, something I was more than happy to oblige. "You plan on leaving in the next few days?" I nodded. "I'm not asking for a babysitter, but I couldn't have done…" he looked at the Raiders again, "this. I'd like to get to Diamond City in one piece, maybe I can get someone else to help me out there but I think I'll need help getting there if yesterday was anything to go by."

The thoughts and memories continued pounding away at my concentration, but this wasn't the time to deal with them. I continued shoving them as far away as my mind would allow. "What happened to finding another option?"

His expression asked 'do I look stupid?' "I might be able to, eventually, but you're the most readily available and probably the most likely to succeed. I need my son back. He's-" The smaller man's voice broke and he tore his gaze away from mine. It took a moment, Nate looking anywhere except me, the tentative silence that once again blanketed the field of corpses ready to flee at a moment's notice. He took a deep breath and looked back up at me. "He's all I've got left. Everything else is gone. Everything. I know you can relate to that."

And there they were, the history I'd struggle for so long to put away, battering at my conscience once again.

God dammit. Now is not the time for this. Why do you keep bringing my past up? What right do you have to talk about it?

"No. You don't." I allowed irritation to seep into my voice. "Stop talking about it."

A strange mixture of emotions played out across the ex-soldier's face. Fear, confusion, anger, sadness, and several others fought for dominance over his features, none truly succeeding. "Right, sor- I'm not trying to pry. I just want my son back."

"I'll consider it."

Perhaps both sensing I was finished with the conversation as well as wanting to put as much space between himself and an upset SPARTAN as he could, Nate turned without another word and walked back toward Sanctuary. My eyes returned to the collection of dead around me. Being around enemies, regardless of their state, was easier. Conversations were short and generally limited to guns, knives, and blows. I was a master of those languages; I've won most arguments so far. The only constant between 'allies': they ask too many questions.

The early afternoon sun was shrouded by a mass of sickly looking clouds casting a brownish green haze over everything. I was sitting in the safe house's living room with several of the scavenged rifles lying disassembled in front of me. Most weapons the raiders had brought along were the cobbled together 'Pipe' weapons as everyone kept calling them. Those were about as crude as they could be while still working. I guess that fits their owners rather well.

Some were genuine, mass produced firearms; those were the ones I was working with. The group had collected about 15 in total, ranging from 10mm handguns to a 5.56mm assault rifle. I'd stripped each down and checked for damaged components. Most had one or two things that were either degraded too far to be safe or close to it. The worst one had been one of the 7.62mm bolt action rifles that had at some point broken or lost a firing pin. Someone made another with a bundle of wire. It floated freely in the bolt and went from either not contacting the round's primer when fired, to getting caught in the forward position and contacting it as the bolt closed. Accidental discharges were never a good thing.

The last weapon in front of me was the automatic rifle. It was a piston driven, magazine fed select fire rifle with a 450mm barrel, wooden handguard, and full wooden stock. The wood furniture was strange, but it was well maintained and seemed to be in good condition. I memorized where each component went as I slowly reassembled it.

Once I'd stripped each scavenged weapon and reassembled them with functional components, I was left with a a couple Pipe Rifles, three 7.62mm bolt action rifles, one of them with a low power scope, two semi-automatic rifles, two double barrel shotguns, two 10mm handguns, the assault rifle, the high caliber sniper rifle, and enough spare components to keep them running for a while. These guys also came with a massive amount of ammo.

If Sanctuary fell, it wouldn't be for lack of armament.

With the weapons stowed in one of the bedrooms alongside close to 1000 rounds of assorted ammunition, I headed across the street to the carport where Sturges, Alexandra, Julian, Murphy, and Dan were sitting. No conversation passed between them, but the atmosphere around the group had a tinge of relief, maybe even elation. Whatever it was, they didn't have the same somber expressions from the last week, the five of them almost looked happy.

Alexandra was sitting on the far side next to a work bench of some sort. Her head turned toward me the best it could. "Get enough sleep soldier boy?"

I nodded. "The rear bedroom is stocked with what weapons I could salvage from their armament. Should have enough spare parts to last you a while."

"That sounds like the beginning of a goodbye."

"Yes. I'll be leaving tomorrow."

Sturges cleared his throat. "You think we're all set to defend against another attack that large?"

I don't have enough patience to prepare you for that. "No but the risk of that happening again is fairly low, correct?"

His head inclined. "Yeah." A small smile spread across his face. "Sorry, maybe I'm just getting used to having you here. You do tend to make things easier, you know."

That's why ONI kept me around. That's why you kept me around.

"Are you taking Nate with you?" Alexandra wore a similar expression as when I'd left her in Concord.

"Haven't decided."

"Well what's holding you up?"

What he reminds me of. "Added time and risk."

She grunted. "Can I give you some advice?" I shrugged. "You suck with people. Take him or you'll never get anywhere."

Well… not what I expected. A short laugh escaped; never seen anyone outside of other SPARTANs talk to one like that.

Sturges was the first to recover. "We managed to squeeze a laugh out of you after all." The smile he wore could only be described as a 'shit eating grin'.

The youngest of the group decided it was time to add his voice. "Now we just need to get him to take his helmet off."

"Good luck."

Sturges feigned surprise. "Was… was that a joke?"

He and Alexandra shared a glance. "I think it was. He's starting to like us."

A small smile crept across my face. I don't know about 'like' but they aren't bad for civilians.

An idea slowly snuck into my head, like it might be banished from existence if it made itself known. What if they aren't just using me?

What were they offering in return for being saved?

It may be as simple as caring.

Caring? I don't know about that; the world hasn't seemed to care thus far.

Well this isn't the same world.

The thought brought on a strange, warm feeling I couldn't place, but it was… nice.

Some of the levity left and Alexandra fixed me in a more serious gaze once again. "You've probably noticed people around here don't do too well with threats. Doesn't matter how big and scary you are, most will shoot first, and you won't come across many who need saving like we did, especially if they're in Diamond City."

That's something I've already noticed, but coercion is my only tool for handling uncooperative parties. "And if he doesn't agree?"

"You should take him anyway. The guy's looking for his son." She cast a brief glance at Julian. "Don't know if there's anything else that needs to be said. Go talk to him first, he seems to like you for some reason, he'll probably help."

While the concept made sense, it was hard to get by the ex-soldier's constant questioning of my past. And as he asks about it, I can't help but see more and more scenes from the Covenant attack. Aren't I supposed to be able to separate emotions from the mission? I've never had to deal with a situation like this before. My handlers already knew my past, and I rarely had team members to worry about.

What if this turns out to be beneficial?

I stared at the question in my mind for what felt like an eternity. Beneficial? What good would remembering more about my family being killed, my home being destroyed do me? My mind didn't elect to answer the question. Besides, if the only objection is 'it may dredge up nightmares' get over it; he may expedite returning to the UNSC, if that requires an escort, so be it.

Standing here arguing with myself wasn't going to get me anywhere. I haven't spoken to him on the matter anyway so it may be a moot point. "I'll ask."

With little else to do the rest of the day, I occupied myself by cleaning my weapons, and gathering supplies in one of the many satchels I'd pulled from the dead attackers. By mid-afternoon, most of the group was back at work either rigging up more reinforcements or drilling with their new supply of weapons. They'd taken most of what I'd taught them to heart; it was gratifying to see. Last night's attack probably had something to do with it.

I pulled Nate aside after they'd eaten dinner. He was walking out from under the carport that had become the primary communal area as they finished.

"I'd like to talk."

The ex-soldier studied me, his stiff back betraying the apprehension. "About?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow, if you're tagging along we need to come to an understanding."

His eyes widened. "You'll take me?"

I shook my head. "I'm open to the idea, but I'm not doing it for free. You're better with people than me, I'd like your help getting in touch with The Institute or The Brotherhood."

"I don't mean to be rude", he replied through a smile, "but a rock has better people skills than you my friend."

You don't need people skills when you spend most of your time around people you've killed or are about to kill. "They skipped that part in my training. So what's your answer?"

The frown that spread across his face told me the response before he voiced it. "It depends on what that would entail. My primary objective is to get Shaun back; the faster I do that the better." A sheepish expression slowly worked its way onto his face as he paused. "For multiple reasons. If what you said about cryogenics is true, I have no way of knowing how long I was out. I don't think it was too long since my-" he choked on the next word and stopped to take a long, ragged breath, "my wife wasn't decomposed, but who knows anymore?"

"I need someone who knows about The Institute: where they are, what they do, how I can contact them."

"And you expect me to know any of that?" The incredulity in his voice was only matched by his expression.

I shook my head. "Help me find someone who would."

With Diamond City being the 'largest' settlement around here, that would be the best opportunity to find a lead, but his doubt was well founded; even as I said it I knew the odds were slim.

Nate nodded. "Okay. I can't promise I'll get you an answer", he adopted a wry smile, "but I guess that goes both ways." I cocked my head. "Are you going to guarantee I'll get to Diamond City alive?"

"No."

"Then I guess we'll both have to do the best we can."

It may not have been the most conventional, but at least it was an agreement. "We're leaving at 0600 tomorrow. There are weapons in the back bedroom of the safehouse, I'll speak with Preston about supplies." The ex-soldier's face twisted into a strange grimace. "There a problem?"

"That room-" he shook his head. "No, I'll be ready."

I nodded before leaving to find the patrolling Minuteman.

Preston was on his way back across the bridge when I spotted him. The others had cleared the bodies while I'd slept; not much of the fight remained outside of the blood stains. "Nate and I are leaving tomorrow morning, can you spare us any supplies?"

The smaller man stopped and squinted at me. "You're heading out? Just when I was beginning to like you?" I shrugged. He smirked and shook his head. "How much do the two of you need?"

"At least a few days' provisions."

"We have three weeks worth for the group so a few days for two people shouldn't be a problem. I'll get Julian and Mama Murphy to set you two up. I'd guess you'll be taking some guns too?"

I nodded. "The large caliber sniper rifle, the automatic rifle, a handgun, and ammunition. I don't know what Nate is taking."

"Well", the Minuteman glanced over his shoulder at where the bodies had been, "I'm thinking we won't have any issues with weapons." His eyes returned to me, expression sober. "Do you think we'll survive?"

The question caught me off guard. Will they survive? In a climate like this, eventually they'll be killed by something; Raiders, Gunners (the mercenary group who had run them out of Quincy apparently), one of the dangers brought on by the nuclear war like mutated animals or rad storms, or even disease. If they wanted to survive, they'd need more people, supplies, and skills.

"For now. Long term, you need more people and the infrastructure to support them."

Preston nodded sadly. "That's what the Minutemen tried to do: bring people under a common banner to fight for survival." He scoffed. "Now look, I'm the last one and barely holding on at that."

I couldn't relate; until recently, I hadn't had anyone else to rely on, no one else to rely on me. I completed my mission and moved on. But there was one similarity. The look in his eyes was one I'd seen from countless UNSC personnel: the knowledge that there were no more lines to fall back to, no more reinforcements to come bail you out. If you fail, everything you've fought for is gone.

Even without the Covenant humanity is facing the same problems here. "Use Sanctuary as a base to expand. If there are other small settlements, combine efforts and centralize."

"Rebuild the Minutemen?"

I shook my head. "Build your own livable conditions. If that turns into a militia so be it."

"You haven't had to do this before." It wasn't a question, but it wasn't an accusation either.

"I've seen enough smaller communities to know what works and what doesn't."

His expression asked the question even before he gave it voice. "Where?"

"On missions."

"Wha- right." The Minuteman stared at me for a moment, clearly contemplating what version of 'not your business' I'd give him if he asked more. In the end he sighed. "Let's go get some supplies put together."

By evening's end, we had two satchels packed with enough food and water for almost a week. It was an assortment of boxed 'Salisbury Steak', macaroni and cheese, 'Pork 'n Beans', and several cooked items. I smiled while sorting through the contents of our kit; it certainly wasn't MRE's or any semblance of standard supplies. Sturges also gave me a bundle filled with used bottle caps.

"There's 150 caps in that. Don't pay more than 10 for a meal. I doubt you'll need to buy guns, ammo, or anything to repair them with what you're bringing, but if you do make sure you go to a large vendor, they'll have set prices. Might be a bit high compared to what you can barter but I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess you didn't do much of that." I shook my head. He smiled. "You'll be fine."

"And if we run out?"

"There are odd jobs you can do, people who can kill other people while keeping someone else from dying are always high demand." He looked me over. "You could probably charge whatever you wanted. You can sell supplies you scavenge off your… victims if you come across another band of Raiders."

As… unsavory as taking on what would essentially be mercenary work was, I would most likely have to with how little seemed to be known about The Institute. I had no idea how long it might take to make contact, or how long it would take to convince them to help.

"Understood."

The next morning Nate and I were walking across the bridge as the sun rose over the eastern horizon once again. Nate has laid out the general route we would be taking on the bulky 'Pipboy' he had on his wrist; as much as I didn't want to stick to roads, the risks of traveling through what was left of the wilderness were probably worse.

The ex-soldier didn't say anything as he walked beside me. His attention was on our surroundings but, unlike mine, it was most likely on how it had changed since he'd been put on ice. The pockmarked road was lined with rusted hulks that had once been cars, the occasional storefront or house, and a lot of barren wasteland.

Part of me wondered what this place looked like before the war; what he was comparing this brown expanse of post nuclear war desert to. The cognitive dissonance must have been jarring.

I was almost hoping we would encounter one of the more tangible, non-radiation related threats. The Raiders hadn't been a real challenge, but maybe the Gunners or even one of the supposedly dangerous mutated animals that were supposed to roam the area would give me a better fight.

The sun was approaching its peak the first time Nate spoke. He had been struggling for the past hour or so, but I got the sense he wouldn't admit it until he had no other choice.

"I could use five."

The only real cover within a few hundred meters was a dilapidated structure on the right side of the road that had a large cover over it and a portion of the surrounding lot. The rest of our immediate area was more of the same: collapsed buildings, the occasional vegetation, and a lot of dead land. "Okay."

It wasn't likely someone would be occupying such an isolated humdinger, but it was impossible to be sure. I kept myself between Nate and our temporary destination, rifle aimed through the broken front windows. As we neared, something shuffled in the back.

So there is someone here.

I motioned for the ex-soldier to stay close and crept up to the near side of the building. Who or whatever was inside hadn't moved again.

I glanced inside to see a long counter set at the back of an interior too small for the exterior size, so there must have been a back room. The noise hadn't been muffled so it came from behind the counter.

After several seconds of waiting, I silently stole through the blown out windows, carefully avoiding the broken glass.

Still no movement.

Three more paces and I was ready to round the counter's entrance.

I paused at the edge, counted off three heartbeats, and sprung around the divider.

It only took a split second to identify the source of the sound, but my mind took several moments to process it. A… dog was lying in the back corner, head resting on its paws, facing me, eyes closed. It looked strikingly similar to many of the dogs Innies threw at me.

A handful of seconds passed before it's eyes drifted open and as it realized I was standing there it let out a high pitched barking yelp.

The animal sprung to its feet and I slipped my finger onto the rifle's trigger. Oddly, the dog didn't lunge for me; every one of these I'd seen insurrectionists use attacked anyone besides them on sight. This one pressed itself further into the corner, ears flat against its head, fangs bared, and let out a low growl.

Broken glass crunched and I glanced up to see a confused looking Nate picking his way through the front of the building.

"Is that a dog?"

I looked back at the terrified animal and nodded. The smaller man walked around me and knelt at the counter's entrance.

"Hey buddy", he cooed, "what are you doing out here?"

He rustled through his satchel for a moment and pulled out a box labeled 'Salisbury Steak'.

"You hungry?" The ex-soldier peeled the package open and offered it to the dog. The only response he got was another growl.

"Back up some, give it a little space."

I looked down at him and after a moment he returned the gaze. "Oh come on, the poor thing is scared."

Are you trying to pick up strays? Whatever. I backed away from the counter, careful to keep the dog in my sights. Nate places the box on the ground and followed suit.

"There you go bud. We aren't going to hurt you."

The dog's nose twitched as it sniffed at the food, but it kept its fangs bared and didn't budge.

"Can you give me a few minutes?"

"We don't need to bring a dog."

"Could you just give me some time? We're taking a break aren't we?"

"We don't need to bring a dog", I repeated slowly.

The smaller man shot me an exasperated look. "A dog can be helpful, especially if it's survived out here alone; it will be conditioned for threats and might give us early warning." He looked back at the cowering animal. "Plus, it looks like it could use some food."

That's… actually a pretty good argument. There had been several times dogs sniffed me out during operations; they could be incredibly useful.

"I'll clear the area."

A flicker of surprise crossed the smaller man's face. "Really? That was fast."

I shrugged. "It isn't why you want to bring the dog, but it makes sense, as long as you use it like that."

"Okay then…" He went back to looking at the dog and I slipped back out into the lot.

While Nate murmured to his new friend, I cleared the building's back area, and took a moment to eat and drink. 10 minutes later I re-entered the front of the building to see the dog sitting next to Nate, eating another steak from his hand.

"Didn't think I'd see a German Shepard after the apocalypse."

German Shepard? Is that what type of dog that is?

"It's a he, and he looks pretty young and healthy. I think his owner must have died recently, or he got lost."

None of that information was useful. "Are you ready to move?"

The smaller man sighed. "You're an asshole, you know that?"

"You aren't the first person to tell me."

"Just making sure." He turned back to the dog and scratched behind one of its ears. "How about it bud, you want to come with us?" The dog's head cocked to the side as it looked at Nate. "I'll take that as a 'yes'."

The ex-soldier climbed to his feet and the dog followed suit. He took a moment to sniff at me before I turned to leave the building.

Our trek's monotony saw the sun begin its journey downward and we neared the area he'd designated as 'Cambridge' as it started sliding behind the horizon. I wanted to find a way around the relatively dense area, but from what I saw on the map, that would add several kilometers to the journey.

Buildings became less sporadic, and the occasional tree turned into a consistent foliage and brown shrubbery. As the sun disappeared from view we found ourselves at the edge of a small town.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say you don't want to settle in town for the night."

I glanced down at the man who was scratching behind the ears of his new pet. "No."

"Well-" Just as the smaller man began talking, the odd report of a laser rifle sounded somewhere near the center of the small town.

My head snapped back to the collection of buildings in front of us, and I slipped into the shadow of the nearest building. For his part, Nate scrambled for his rifle and followed suit with the dog hurrying behind.

"What about now?"

You won't be sleeping yet.

"We clear that and make sure we have a secure position for the night."

He nodded. "That sounded like it was coming from the center of town; that's where the Cambridge Police Station is. It mostly served the college."

Police station? If it's intact, that would make a good position for the night.

"How do we get there?"

After a moment's thought, Nate glanced at his Pipboy for a moment, then back at me. "We can go four streets straight into town, and the station should be a couple blocks to the left."

I nodded, checked the street for potential enemies, and slipped into the forest of collapsing buildings.

A/N: So I haven't done a post-chapter author's note before, but I'm thinking about providing a short commentary on important parts of each chapter if anyone is interested in reading the thought processes that went into important characters and events during the writing. Let me know if and I'll see you all next time!