Wrong Place, Right Time: A Hero's Story

by DLTA-BOT

The journey of a hero doesn't always start where they expect. It doesn't always happen to those who expect it. Damon was never interested in being what SPARTANs represent: an implacable force for good standing as humanity's shield. Like most other third-generation SPARTANs, the war took everything from him. All he wanted was to return the favor. Sometimes we don't get a choice.

65. Chapter 65: A Sudden Painful Realization

A/N: Salutations from the realm of insanity, might I interest you in a visit? First, apologies for not posting this yesterday (unless, of course, you're reading the chapter sometime in the future, in which case I completely posted this on time). I left my apartment at 6 in the morning and didn't get back until almost midnight. Suffice to say, I had not the energy to do anything but crawl in my bed and die. That's yesterday though, and today we have another chapter. This was a very interesting one to write and a challenge I set for myself. I had every intent of taking this a different direction, but I'm happy I didn't. Aaaaanyway, that's enough rambling, leave a review if you're so inclined and, as always, enjoy!

Chapter 65: A Sudden, Painful, Realization

Nate's boots were pounding on the pavement. His legs burned. His lungs were on fire. He wanted to stop, to catch his breath, to let the world stop spinning.

That was the absolute last thing he was going to do. Not with the sound of Vertibirds approaching.

They'd been running flat out for five minutes. They had to get to Winthrop and off the peninsula before the Brotherhood managed to cordon it off. It wouldn't take them long to figure out where the shot came from. The Prydwen's position over the airfield didn't offer shooters many options. It was a good idea on their part.

Too bad they hadn't counted on a certain supersoldier's willingness to try damn near anything.

And Nate's willingness… to try damn near anything. Too.

And Brenda's willingness to cosign the idea.

They were a little over half a mile away from Winthrop, Damon pacing the two of them. Nate wanted to be irritated the SPARTAN was so effortlessly gliding ahead of-

To hell with that. He wasn't too proud to admit he was irritated. Nate had conditioned himself for decades. Even after he was out, the ex-soldier maintained his PT. It just felt like part of him at that point.

But here Damon was, not only maintaining a 30-foot gap between them, the armored titan looked like he was out for a walk. His rifle was still swinging from building to car to street to the next house. There was no discernible effort in his movements and Nate got the sense he was going slow for him and Brenda.

Of course, it was the wrong time to be thinking something like that, considering the circumstances. That didn't matter. For some absurd reason, thinking about it pissed the infantryman off.

The pounding of rotors was growing louder every second. They still had a quarter mile to get to the chokepoint. Even then, they wouldn't be safe. They wouldn't be safe until they were well into Boston proper. The Brotherhood didn't have the resources to expend hunting a small party down in the large city. If they dedicated the people to it, that would leave them vulnerable elsewhere.

Then again, this was someone taking a shot at their leader. Hopefully killing their leader. It's completely possible they go for broke.

As their route carried them past another dilapidated house, Nate couldn't help but smile. Despite everything, his heart was pounding with a new thrill. Despite the encroaching exhaustion from running full speed with 40 pounds of guns, ammo, and supplies, there was an excited energy in his legs.

This was a high he hadn't felt in a long time. One he didn't think he'd ever feel again.

No… that wasn't quite right. It was the same type of thrill he felt back in Diamond City. He was playing a game of chicken and his life was the bet. It was this kind of excitement that kept him coming back during his endless years in service. He thought it had been replaced with PTSD, that this was gone for good.

It was a thrill that scared him.

He wasn't-

A loud crash came from the half-collapsed house and a shape shot from its front door straight toward Damon.

Another feral ghoul.

The SPARTAN was on the sidewalk, maybe 10 feet from the entrance. One instant he was running, rifle pointed up Revere toward Winthrop, the next there was a crack damn near as loud as a gunshot.

But it wasn't a gunshot.

Damon's would-be attacker was flung to the ground, the side of its head caved in and its neck bent at an extremely unnatural angle. The motion was so fast, there was no way Nate could track it. The only reason he knew the armored titan had met the ghoul's charge with a closed fist to the side of its head was him twisting to maintain his balance. By the next stride, his right hand was back on his gun, and continued up the street.

"Shit", Brenda snapped breathlessly. "What. The. Hell. Was. That?"

"A very dead feral ghoul", the ex-soldier replied, equally out of breath.

She shot him a glance. "Thanks, genius."

A minute later, as the Vertibirds' rotors drew close enough to pound away at Nate's inner ear, they finally reached Winthrop. Now they just had to make it half a mile north and their options would open up.

Another half mile of wanting to drop dead.

Another half mile of adrenaline surging through his body.

Nate glanced to the west-

And his heart dropped.

He saw a formation of five Vertibirds heading east. They were angling so they'd meet Winthrop north of the trio.

That isn't good. He didn't need a notepad to work out the math. Those Vertibirds would intersect their path well before they managed to get off the peninsula. Even if they dropped their gear and sprinted, those VTOLs were less than a minute away from the coast. No way either he or Brenda was covering half a mile in a minute. No regular human could.

Is there another option? The road is the most obvious path, can we do something else? Where else could they go? To their east was the ocean, a no-go. The ex-soldier's eyes dropped from the approaching aircraft to the land below them. To his west was the Belle Isle Marsh. An ocean water marsh. Which meant radioactivity.

Then that left one question: is there enough radiation in the marsh to kill them? Continuing north on Winthrop wouldn't work. They had to make a decision now. There was a small thicket of trees they could use for cover as the Vertibirds flew overhead. If they kept going, that thicket would disappear.

Considering they weren't beating those Vertibirds to the north end of the peninsula, that decision was pretty easy.

"Stop!", Nate wheezed as he slammed on the brakes. "Stop. We aren't making that run." He sucked in the salty air, trying to stave off having to bend over and grab his knees. "The marsh", the ex-soldier pointed to his left. "We have to use the marsh."

His two companions halted.

Brenda turned to him. "What? That's-" she stopped to pant for a few seconds. "That's irradiated."

"They…" he paused to take a breath, "have medicine for that." He stabbed a finger at the approaching Vertibirds. "They don't make medicine for gunshot wounds."

Damon glanced up at the VTOLs. Their rotors were pounding at the air so loudly they were going to have to start yelling to communicate.

After another instant's hesitation, Brenda nodded sharply. "Okay, hold on." She pulled a small pill bottle from a pocket and unscrewed the lid. "This is RadX. Sturges gave it to me. It's supposed to help."

Nate was passingly familiar with RadX. It had been part of his standard kit. Anti-radiation drug that binds radioactive isotopes and then passes out of the body. It isn't perfect, and the person can still get a lethal dose of radiation, but it was something.

They each took one of the large capsules. Brenda gulped a deep breath. "Let's do it."

It wasn't a great idea. She was right: none of them had any idea how bad that radiation would be. It was their only chance to get away without being spotted. The Brotherhood's response had been a lot faster than they anticipated. Sometimes a bad idea is the best idea you have.

The three of them veered off the road and into the cluster of trees to the west.

An added benefit of this new path is it provided the two regular humans a moment to catch their breath.

As they made their way through toward the western edge of the thicket, the Vertibirds roared over the road to the north.

No way we would have made that.

Nate stopped beside a particularly thick tree and sucked in a few more deep breaths.

"Alright", he said. "This sucks. That marsh is definitely irradiated and it's a lot of open ground."

"Waiting isn't an option", Damon responded.

The ex-soldier nodded. "I know. We need to figure out how to get across. Preferably alive and with a survivable dose of radiation." Even with the RadX… that was a lot of hazardous ground to cover.

"That would be a bonus, yeah", Brenda added.

Damon's helmet turned toward the edge of the cluster and the marsh beyond. There was still waist-high grass covering most of it as well as a hundred-and-fifty-foot wide channel just past the last trees. That channel would be trouble. It would be where they were exposed to the heaviest radiation.

"Limited resources and no ground units yet. They'll search likely routes and keep their forces consolidated in case of a secondary attack."

"Okay…" Brenda said. "We already figured that."

"They won't be able to search the marsh thoroughly. It isn't the most likely path a team would take."

Oh. "So you're saying it being open shouldn't be an issue."

The SPARTAN shook his head. "Not until they have ground units to perform a sweep." He began walking toward the edge of the channel. "Tall grass means an aerial search won't turn up much. If the Vertibirds approach, we drop into the grass and wait for them to move on."

There were a lot of assumptions involved in that plan, but Nate couldn't argue they weren't sound.

This was his idea after all.

"If we're gonna poison ourselves, let's get to it", the ex-soldier said.

Brenda grimaced but still nodded in agreement. The unspoken part of the arrangement was they needed to move as fast as possible. Dying from radiation poisoning sounded awful.

With the Vertibird wing still flying a search pattern to the north, the three of them slipped down a small embankment and into the marsh. Back before the bombs fell, the area just beyond the trees had been a shallow pool. Lucky for them, the water had receded. It left a loose, wet bed of clay and dirt.

While that meant whatever dose of radiation they were getting wasn't as bad, it was a pain to walk in. Every step Nate took was slick, his boots threatening to slip out from under him. To make it worse, when one foot sunk into the mud, he had to yank his other boot out. Damon struggled far more than either he or Brenda. The SPARTAN's massive weight drove his armored boots deep into the old riverbed. Every time Damon took a step, he had to practically lift his feet up to knee level. There was one point his left foot slipped as he set it down in the thick mud. He had to catch himself before he dropped into the muck.

It was a little cathartic to see him struggling.

In the few minutes it took them to cross the riverbed, the search party had stayed relatively stationary over the road to the north. Another handful of Vertibirds had flown in and was slowly searching the area north of the airfield. They'd be sending more people out soon. This was preliminary, checking the immediate area while preventing anyone from leaving the peninsula.

The marsh might end up killing them but it was at least the right call at the moment.

Damon was the first to reach the opposite bank and hauled himself up into the grassy field. Once Nate and Brenda joined him, the trio headed toward the west end of the small plane.

They made it maybe 50 feet before two Vertibirds from the original group peeled off from the patrol. As soon as they did, all three of them dropped to their stomachs, disappearing in the waist-high grass.

Did they have a spotter watching the marsh? No one had landed so it would have to be from the airport. Even with the full moon, it would be damn near impossible to see them from that distance.

Laying in the grass, Nate checked his rifle's chamber and safety. If the VTOLs were after them, it wouldn't do much. The check was more out of habit than anything else.

The pounding rotors grew louder and louder, the aircraft nearing their position. The ex-soldier lifted his head, trying to get a view through the grass around him. The best he could make out was the small navigation lights on each of the Vertibird's stubby wings. They were heading straight for them.

Damn… Nate's heart started pounding as he pulled his-

They passed over the marsh and continued toward the airfield.

The infantryman took a deep breath and let his muscles unwind. It was a relief, they weren't in immediate danger-

"They're going back for reinforcements, right?" Brenda whispered.

Rustling came from the grass in front of him as Damon stood. "Correct."

-But their window was closing.

Nate followed suit along with the young woman. All three of them were damp from laying in the marshy grass. That was something Nate and Brenda could deal with later.

Half-jogging through the tall grass, maintaining footing was difficult. The ground was uneven and it was impossible to see what was coming up. There were a few stumbles, but they didn't let it slow them. They couldn't let it slow them. With ground forces coming in to help with the manhunt, the net was about to start closing. If Damon was right, even if they fought their way out, that would put a target on the Minutemen they couldn't get rid of.

With the three Vertibirds still hovering over Winthrop, and the other two flying a grid over the neighborhood to their west, they had a hole. They had to get through that hole before ground forces got there.

Half a mile of marsh to cover… that was going to be close.

Damon seemed to sense that too. When the Vertibirds that had broken off of the search disappeared into the base, the SPARTAN increased his pace. It was uncomfortable keeping up with him, but Nate would rather have a sprained ankle than be tortured. He didn't make it out of Diamond City the day before to end up a POW now.

The houses ahead of them were growing closer… but they weren't doing it fast enough. By the time they got to within a quarter mile of the marsh's edge, the pair of Vertibirds was airborne again. There were still a few minutes between them and the houses. Those troop transports would be back on the peninsula within a minute.

"We aren't heading back to Goodneighbor for a while", Damon said. His helmet was turned toward the approaching aircraft, tracking them through the dark night sky.

"I figured that", the ex-soldier muttered.

Instead of responding, the armored titan turned back to the houses at the edge of the marsh.

The next minute seemed to stretch on into eternity as the Vertibirds got closer. Those two aircraft could be carrying 10 power-armored Brotherhood soldiers. If they were going for quantity, they could fit double that without power armor. If they were actively searching, 20 people wasn't many in an area as large as this. The ex-soldier doubted that's what this first group would be. If Nate was running this show, he'd establish a perimeter before beginning a sweep.

20 people watching for them, with more to come soon after, would be much harder to get past.

This would be another area they would have to rely on the SPARTAN's experience. Nate didn't do much, or any, covert infiltration during his time. Like long-range shooting, he knew the principles. Like long-range shooting, there was a world of difference between knowing the principles and having experience.

It probably wasn't a good thing that happened so much. Yes, Damon was invaluable, but leaning on him for everything was a recipe for becoming reliant on him.

This is his mission. It would make sense we'd be doing something he's good at.

Even so…

Worry about it later.

Nate watched the Vertibirds drop behind the buildings in front of them. It was hard to tell from their position still a few hundred yards from the houses, but it looked like they were several blocks away. That was good. It would give them a little room to maneuver. Hopefully.

As they closed in on the edge of the marsh, Nate felt the net tightening around them. The Brotherhood were cordoning the area and their already limited options were shrinking. He didn't want to become reliant on the armored titan but…

"What's the plan for getting past this?" Nate asked as they finally reached the first row of houses. He didn't feel any different, which was probably a good sign, but who knows with radiation poisoning.

Damon was peering through the house in front of them. The walls were mostly intact so he had to look into the windows to see the street beyond.

"Determine the type of units they deployed and their patrol pattern", he said quietly. "If they're armored units, we can't risk engaging. If they aren't, we can kill some to make a hole."

That was an awfully simple approach.

Keep it simple, stupid.

"No shooting", the SPARTAN finished.

Brenda snorted. "Duh."

Just as they were about to slip past the house into the first street, the pitch of the Vertibirds' rotors changed. They were taking off again. More ground forces.

Damon held up a fist and they all stopped a few feet from the street.

A few seconds later, the aircraft appeared above the houses ahead of them and accelerated toward the airport.

Their net was tightening…

We need to go fast.

With the VTOLs gone, Damon crept to the edge of the house. His muzzle swung from right to left, clearing their exit before he shot across the street. Nate moved after the armored titan, followed by Brenda. They made it one more block before Damon signaled another stop.

The houses around them, like those on the peninsula, were mostly intact. It meant good visual cover from any patrolling Brotherhood. That also meant the patrols would be harder to spot.

"Brotherhood", the supersoldier whispered, pointing at a house across the street. They were at the north edge of the neighborhood. Any further north took them into another field. It looked like there was some sort of track ringing-

Oh yeah. This was a dog track before the war.

That was a completely useless piece of information.

In any case, north of them was more open ground. With Brotherhood in the immediate area, open ground was a bad idea. Every other direction was broken down, crumbling suburb.

As he searched, it took a moment for Nate to see what the SPARTAN was looking at. From what he could tell, at first, the slowly eroding one-story house was dark and empty.

But it wasn't.

After a few seconds of observation, the ex-soldier noticed a silhouette inside that looked distinctly human. It was difficult to spot because the person was half hidden behind… something he couldn't make out. In the gloom, it would have been easy to miss if you weren't looking for it.

It was almost impossible to see anything in the darkness. Without high-end night vision.

Good news was that silhouette was definitely not wearing T60.

"How many more do you see?"

"Four", the SPARTAN answered after a few seconds. "Their distribution says there are more. Not sure how many. No NVS."

No night vision? So this was a team haphazardly thrown together. That means they either don't have a good QRF set up, or that QRF was occupied. The Brotherhood leadership, and specifically Maxson, weren't stupid enough to go without any sort of rapid response teams. That wasn't rule number one in the playbook, but it wasn't far down the list.

"These are custodial teams to form a perimeter", Damon continued.

"Which means we need to be gone before they get people out here with the right equipment."

"I think we should head straight north", Brenda whispered. She was looking across the street at the house Damon had pointed out. "They didn't put anyone there, right? We might be able to get past the Vertibirds without fighting."

It was a hole in their perimeter for now. Not fighting meant not slowing down to fight. It meant less risk of being found and-

"That's where the next force will go", the armored titan replied, still searching the houses. "They'll be better equipped."

The unsaid part of that statement was they wouldn't make it past their perimeter before the next teams were on the ground. "If we take out part of their perimeter guard, we won't have long."

"Affirmative. We'll have more room to maneuver. We'll have to move fast once we break through." Damon's helmet turned back to the two of them. "I'll lead them away, you two will go to the safe house."

Lead them away? "We were supposed to be on the coast when you came up with that. How do you plan on doing that here without them knowing it's you?"

"Carefully." Normally, that would be a sarcastic response. The SPARTAN's voice didn't have a hint of sarcasm. In fact, he sounded irritated again.

Can't have multiple people in charge during combat. That's how people end up dead. Well, the wrong people end up dead.

Nate held his hands up. "Alright, this is your show."

The supersoldier held his gaze for a heartbeat before nodding. "Give me two minutes, I'll signal you to cross."

"Copy that." How he planned on getting across without being spotted… he'd leave that up to the armored titan.

Once the SPARTAN slipped away, Nate motioned Brenda up to him. With the chance Damon might be seen, he didn't want to take his eyes off the street. He checked his Pipboy for the time.

"Stay behind and to my left." The ex-soldier pointed at a long-abandoned car in the middle of the street. "We'll head there first and then to that house." He moved his finger to the one Damon pointed out.

"Okay", the young woman replied. Her voice was wound as tight as Nate's legs.

Her breathing was still calm.

"We're doing good", Nate whispered.

"Yeah? This is good?"

The ex-soldier smiled. "You'd be surprised how bad things go sometimes."

"Crawling through an irradiated swamp isn't bad?"

"It-" Nate paused as the silhouette shifted. It settled again after a few seconds.

"It isn't the worst thing I've done. Have you ever heard the phrase 'a plan only lasts until first contact'?"

He saw Brenda shake her head out of the corner of his eye. "Nope."

"Well… this is normal", he whispered, still smiling.

"Are you trying to reassure me you know what you're doing so I calm down?" Brenda asked, mock accusation in her voice.

"Am I that easy to read?"

"For someone who's gone through a life-and-death negotiation with you."

Nate checked his Pipboy again. 30 seconds. "I'll take that as a compliment."

As if on cue, the shadowed figure disappeared from sight.

He didn't know about the other Brotherhood members Damon spotted, but at least Nate didn't have to worry about that one.

"Get ready to move."

Brenda grunted. "Okay."

Seconds continued ticking by with no further sign of activity. No sounds of alarm, no gunshots, no cries for help. Nate would be lying if he said he wasn't impressed. Fighting was one thing, he'd seen the armored titan do that. The kid was a monster in combat, a wrecking ball crashing through everything in his way. Doing the same thing without being seen? That's an entirely different story and not what he'd seen Damon do to that point. Considering what the SPARTAN has said about his missions, Nate supposed that shouldn't be a surprise.

There was no way to be sure what Damon's signal would be, but it would be obvious. The ex-soldier didn't see any other Brotherhood soldiers on guard. That didn't mean they weren't there. Without night optics, there were countless places for someone to hide. Access to that sort of technology is another thing he missed about the pre-War world.

Nate's heart started to pound a little faster as the Vertibirds drew near once again. He agreed with the supersoldier, these would probably be heading north. The only reason they'd end up somewhere else is if they already know their perimeter had been compromised.

Dammit, Damon. If you're gonna keep doing this alone, you need to hurry up. While Nate was no expert at covert warfare, he was experienced in regular warfare. The ex-soldier could cut him some slack, the SPARTAN isn't used to or comfortable working with other people. He's said as much. Sometimes you have to get comfortable doing things you're uncomfortable with.

Two minutes turned into three and the Brotherhood transports were almost over them. They hadn't begun slowing or descending, which was a good sign. Still, this little mission was on the clock and Damon hadn't signaled their cross yet.

Making a decision to change their established course of action at this point was risky. Damon was expecting they'd be waiting. If they weren't he might assume something's wrong. If Nate made the wrong decision, it could get them caught or killed.

But waiting any longer could be just as bad.

… It wouldn't be the first time he's done something like this. Not that he made it a habit, especially in live combat. That was a good way to get people killed. No, he'd just taken a few liberties from time to time. At least, if he did now, there would be no reprimand from a lieutenant or captain waiting for him.

Only a pissed-off supersoldier.

The Brotherhood soldier on watch directly across from them was dead. His pals didn't know yet because, if they did, alarms would be going off. That means a blind spot in their perimeter.

Nate pointed at the building in question. "If Damon doesn't give us the signal in the next 30 seconds, we're crossing to that house and putting a few blocks of space between us and the Brotherhood. Damon can track us down once he's finished here."

"Uh… are you sure?" Brenda sounded more worried than nervous. "We aren't gonna wait for him?"

The Vertibirds passed almost directly overhead.

"Yes. They didn't field enough people in that first perimeter guard to have much overlapping coverage. We need to get a move on before they do have enough." He shot the young woman a smile. "I've done this sort of thing before. Stay close, keep your head down, and don't stop for anything."

There were enough rusted hulks in the two-lane street to make the relatively short cross well-covered.

Starting the countdown in his head, Nate scanned the neighborhood again. There were plenty of spots he would choose to set up in. He was making a few guesses based on their coverage and the number of people Damon saw but… They could do this.

The Vertibirds had passed overhead and were north of them. Probably dropping forces off north of the race track.

By the time he got to 15, the ex-soldier could feel his legs flush with excited energy.

At 10, he checked down the street, south of them. Nothing obvious.

At 5-

A dim green glow appeared in the house where they'd seen the first guard.

Nate let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He was relieved, but it was tinged with disappointment. The ex-soldier had been excited to take that decision into his own hands.

But now he had to put that away. Back to business.

"Let's move", he whispered.

"Yep", came Brenda's, slightly too eager, reply.

The two of them slipped out from between the two houses and hurried toward the car Nate picked out. His companion moved quickly, staying behind and to the right of him like he'd told her.

They reached the car without incident.

Despite what he'd said earlier, these crosses always made Nate's skin crawl. Exposed when you know enemies could be around. Fighting wasn't just dumb, it wasn't an option. The only thing you can do is keep moving.

So that's what the two of them did.

Once they were past the car, they kept running toward the subtle green light. It was only a hundred feet or so, but it felt like it stretched on and on. Every step was quicksand and every breath seemed to take hours. It was possibly because Nate knew getting shot at wasn't the problem. It was getting seen at all.

But nothing happened.

The street was quiet, no gunshots rang out, and no calls of alarm drew anyone's attention.

That isn't to say no one spotted them and reported it…

Damon was waiting for them just inside the front door. The SPARTAN was holding something else, a small handheld radio. He passed it to Nate once they reached him.

"Brotherhood?" the ex-soldier asked. Damon nodded.

As Nate placed the radio in his satchel, the supersoldier stuffed the glow stick back in his own and turned for the back of the house. They hurried through it as best they could. There were pieces of furniture and fallen plasterboard and drywall everywhere. It felt like every step they took drew a groan from the decrepit wooden floors.

Time was the limiting factor now. As soon as they knew their perimeter had been breached, it would be a race to see if the three of them could get out before being caught.

The back door led them into a small backyard that had what was a fence enclosing it. Before they managed to cross it, the thrum of Vertibirds began approaching. It didn't mean the jig was up, but best not to take any chances.

With Damon leading the way, Nate risked pulling the confiscated Brotherhood radio back out and turning it on low. Assuming the SPARTAN hadn't changed the frequency (which would be unexpected considering how stupid that would be), it would be a good way to figure out if their pursuers were onto them yet.

He held it up to his left ear as they slipped through a wide hole in the fence and into the next house's backyard.

"-ear on the west end of Faywood", a woman said quietly.

"Good", came a hoarse reply. "Anything to the east yet?"

They headed north, slipping between a pair of houses. Apparently, Damon wanted to lead them toward the track.

"Negative", another voice responded. "Bennington is clear too. Any word from Winthrop?"

"They still haven't seen anything. Neighborhood teams, what's your status?"

Uh oh.

"We're about to have a problem", Nate whispered as they stopped. They were behind the last row of houses before they headed into the open again. He could hear the pair of Vertibirds begin their journey back to the Prydwen.

Both of his companions looked at him. The young woman's eyes were wide, but she seemed to understand. Damon nodded.

Nate drew up his mental map of the area. "There's a strip mall… maybe half a mile north of here. Once we get past that, we'll have plenty of room to go north or west. Get us to the strip mall. We can do the rest."

Almost two miles of the suburbs to cover to get to the safe house. They can do that.

With another nod, Damon pushed out into the street and the two of them followed. There were a few hundred yards away from the large silos just west of the race track. Those would provide them the best cover. From there they should be able to get to the strip mall.

Unfortunately, between the houses and those silos wasn't much besides some overgrown foliage and a whole lot of empty space. Unless he pulled the radio back out and listened into the Brotherhood comms, Nate had no way of knowing when they'd be in trouble. That didn't matter anymore, they all knew they'd be found out soon. What mattered was putting as much distance between them and the Brotherhood as possible.

As soon as they were off the street, quick progress became difficult. The opposite side was walled off by trees and undergrowth. Beyond that, the concrete lots had been reclaimed by nature. The bushes turned the trek into one that, no matter how careful they were, was loud and slow.

Maybe 'loud' was the wrong word, but it wasn't anywhere near as quiet as Nate would have-

Before they'd made it halfway to the first silo, the ex-soldier noticed the pounding rotors around them growing louder. Had the two VTOLs they'd been using for transport changed course? Did the ones to the west divert toward them? Either way, it wasn't good. That was their cue to get a move on, the Brotherhood realized their perimeter was breached.

Nothing needed to be said. All three of them picked their pace up. Damon pulled the McMillan from his back as they ran, branches and dry, rough leafs slapping at Nate's legs, arms, and chest.

That didn't matter. What mattered was distance. Time and distance.

They were running out of both.

How would the Brotherhood play this? Would they start at the breach and fan out? Start flying grid-patterns over their position? There were too many ways to search. It was a 'wait and see' game.

Those were always the worst ones.

20 seconds later, after navigating a fence that had almost corroded into nothing, they were at the first silo. It was large, at least a hundred feet around, and whatever color it had been in its former life was now gone. That had long ago been replaced by rust.

Keep moving.

They ran along its east side and-

The sound of rotors started getting louder.

His body didn't need to wait for a command. The instant after that pounding concussion approached them, Nate crammed himself into the side of the silo. The bright, full moon that helped them navigate before was working against them now, and those Vertibirds would have powerful searchlights on them.

Damon and Brenda were right next to him, all hugging the rusted metal. The only thing that might save them from being seen was the overgrown bushes and low trees around them.

"Down", the SPARTAN whispered. They all dropped to the ground, flattening themselves to the gritty soil. A lot of it was probably broken-up concrete.

A few seconds later, three VTOLs buzzed overhead. Their blinding searchlights were sweeping the low-hanging canopy. There weren't many places for the trio to go. They had to move. They had to move now.

"Let's go-"

"Wait", Damon snapped, cutting him off.

"Wait?" Nate asked. "Why?"

"They don't know how far we've gotten."

They- shit. Who cares if they don't know. They know the direction they're going.

The ex-soldier's legs were itching with nervous energy. Sitting there, waiting to be found was stupid. It felt like there was a noose closing around Nate's neck. He could almost feel the eyes on him from above- behind- he didn't know where. The infantryman just knew they were coming for him. And when they found him, they'd torture him, they'd go after Goodneighbor. They'd go after the Minutemen.

Sanctuary. His home.

But this was the SPARTAN's show.

The Vertibirds continued north. Nate could see their searchlights piercing the foliage. They were moving fast. That meant they were probably going to do a grid search. Their ground-forces no doubt following from the south.

Just as the energy in Nate's legs was becoming unbearable, the supersoldier pushed himself into a crouch. "We have a minute or two before their next pass."

And they were up again. The ex-soldier moved as fast as he could through the thick undergrowth. It stung every time a branch whipped him as he went by. His lungs were burning again. His bag was getting heavier.

That was easy to ignore. All that mattered was getting to the strip mall. After that, all that mattered was disappearing into the suburbs beyond. Then all that mattered was getting to the safe house.

They made it about two-thirds of the way through the large collection of silos before the Vertibirds started their return run. The three of them flattened themselves under the overgrown foliage once again. This time, Damon continued to low-crawl through the brush as the VTOLs passed overhead. Both Brenda and Nate were breathing hard again, but crawling was still putting distance between them and their pursuers, so they followed suit.

This time, when the aircraft flew overhead, they were split, one to the east, one to the west. They must have started from the breach and were working their way out.

Damon was up again a few seconds after the flight passed by. "I'm breaking off once we get to the parking lot", he said as the painful run resumed.

The ex-soldier could see the break in the foliage up ahead. They were almost there.

"Got it", he heaved. They'd have to wait for the VTOLs to make one more pass before crossing the large open space. Despite the crawling need to get away from the Brotherhood, that was fine. Nate's legs were starting to grow heavy.

After another 30 seconds of crashing through the sickly-looking plants, they found themselves at that break. The trio stopped a few yards away and settled in for a short break. From the sound of thrumming rotors, Nate guessed they had about a minute before the Vertibirds flew back over them. It would be another minute for the patrolling VTOLs to make their return trip. That would be enough time for the ex-soldier to get his breath back.

He glanced at Damon. The armored titan's gaze was fixed on the parking lot to their north. It was littered with what remained of cars and trucks. Most were rusted into unrecognizable heaps by the salty ocean air. There were no signs of strain from the supersoldier. He wasn't heaving like the two of them, his hands were still, holding the McMillan casually across his chest.

Damn that must be nice… Despite himself, Nate smirked. Even that thought felt labored.

Brenda, on the other hand, was in worse shape than the ex-soldier. She was almost doubled over, panting. Her hands were on her hips, head down, sucking air like she just discovered it for the first time.

"You-" Nate started to whisper before his own breathing cut him off. "You gonna be alright."

The young woman nodded, head still down and offered him a thumbs up. "Better than", she took a breath, "getting shot."

Nate laughed breathlessly. "Too true."

The Vertibirds neared again. The three of them, if somewhat reluctantly on Nate and Brenda's part, dropped to the dirt.

As the aircraft soared over the parking lot, the ex-soldier turned to Damon again. "You sure splitting up here's a good idea?"

"Yes."

When the SPARTAN didn't elaborate, Nate continued pressing. "Even though we have the entire Brotherhood up our asses and the two of us will be on our own. We can't deal with a fireteam in T60."

"With the resources available, they'll find us at some point", Damon replied. "Better to give them something to chase."

"And if they figure out it's you?"

"That's my job to worry about, not yours." If the supersoldier's tone was uninviting before, that had been outright poisonous.

Pushing wasn't going to get this conversation anywhere, Nate knew, but he wasn't comfortable with this idea. It wasn't just because of the risk of Damon being found out. It was the risk of he and Brenda being found.

"That's my job to worry about, not yours."

My job is to make sure that doesn't happen. If it does… he glanced at Brenda. She was watching the two of them, still breathing hard. If it does, we know this city better than the Brotherhood. We'll just have to lose them.

"Alright…" Nate looked back at the VTOLs as they turned south again, fanning further out.

30 seconds.

The ex-soldier wanted to worry about Damon's plan. He wanted to figure out exactly how the SPARTAN was going to lead the Brotherhood away without revealing himself. He wanted to know they weren't going to go after the Minutemen because they found out Damon had just shot Maxson.

It wasn't his job though. His job was to get himself and Brenda to Damon's safe house alive. Hopefully the radiation medication he had stored there worked…

Turning off that side of his brain was something he'd grown accustomed to. It took Nora to switch it back on, to worry about what other people were doing and why they were doing it. He'd be damned if he switched it back off. For now, he'd have to stow it and trust the supersoldier knew what he was doing.

"We'll get it done", the ex-soldier called over the roar as aircraft flew overhead.

No sooner had the Vertibird cleared them than Damon was on his feet and shooting out into the street. Nate and Brenda were a few steps behind. The SPARTAN veered left and raced west, gliding across the broken pavement.

As for the two regular humans, they had a hundred yards to cover before they reached the buildings. Once they reach those…

Once they reach those, they're out of the bottleneck and their options open up again.

They were across the street a few seconds later and into the sea of rusted hulks. Nate wasn't too proud to admit to himself that, without the SPARTAN there, he felt exposed. They didn't have his preternatural ability to sniff out danger, they didn't have his expertise in these types of situations.

Skirting between the vehicle remains quickly was difficult. Most of them had collapsed across one another. More than once, the two of them had to climb over a wrecked husk.

But the ex-soldier did have his own. If he was going to say they couldn't rely on him for everything, he had to do that himself. He had 17 years of experience. It may not be directly applicable to this, but he knew what to do.

As if to prove that, the clock was already ticking in the infantryman's head. Those Vertibirds should be at the south end of their loop and turning north again. That gave them 30 seconds to find somewhere to hide.

About halfway across the parking lot, there were plenty of opportunities. Nate's eyes skimmed across their options. He could feel the rotors pounding away at the air, the VTOLs racing toward them. He wasn't going to tell Damon he couldn't be seen and then get caught himself. The embarrassment would be worse than the torture.

The remains of what looked like a box truck.

It was about 30 feet away, past a row of wrecked cars. Perfect.

"There", Nate heaved, pointing at their goal.

He and Brenda pushed toward the vehicle remains. They'd be there-

"Dammit", the young woman swore.

The ex-soldier turned to see her arm caught on the remains of a car. 15 seconds. They didn't-

She, apparently, wasn't going to let that slow her down. Brenda wrenched her arm forward. The sleeve tore halfway up the forearm but she was moving again.

As they climbed over one more mound of rust, Nate glanced back to see the Vertibirds flying toward them. Both aircraft were sweeping the ground with a powerful searchlight.

Just before those lights reached the south end of the parking lot, the two of them ducked behind the box truck.

The roar of the Vertibirds washed over them. They made their way over the parking lot, brilliant illumination swinging side to side. All that was between them and being discovered was the remains of some sort of delivery truck. If the Vertibirds opened up, anything more powerful than a BB gun would punch straight through the rusted sheet metal. Hell, it felt like it would shake apart from the hammering concussions.

Both of them flattened themselves to the ground, trying to sink into the broken pavement, as the searchlight passed over them. Was it's Nate imagination or did the VTOL pause as it did? Were they spotted? Was the game up? Were they about to land? Was-

The blinding light passed on as the aircraft continued north. Nate didn't let himself take in that relief yet. They still had a return flight to make.

A few seconds later both Vertibirds reached the street to the north and turned-

But they didn't head back south. Both redirected west.

Again, Nate wanted to be worried. He couldn't be. He had to do his job. Damon would take care of his side of things. The ex-soldier had to trust that.

As soon as the aircraft were west of the parking lot, Nate jumped to his feet. "Move."

Brenda shot a worried glance toward the VTOLs but she followed suit and soon both of them were up and running again.

A minute more of weaving between parked cars and they reached the buildings. The largest one was an old department store. Nate wasn't sure the name of it. That didn't matter. They were almost out of the bottleneck.

"Inside", the ex-soldier whispered once they reached the front door. If the Brotherhood were on Damon's tail, they had a minute or two to catch their breath. Doing that out in the open was a bad idea.

Without the light cast by the full moon outside, the store was almost impossible to see in. Both of them had lights on their guns but didn't risk turning them on. Not that close to the entrance.

So they made their way into the building carefully. Nate took the lead, feeling his way forward, rifle held at the ready. It was eerily reminiscent of his and Damon's journey through the tower's basement a few days before. Just like then, the infantryman's imagination began dreaming up all sorts of wonderful things that could be waiting for them.

There was one major difference: they didn't have the SPARTAN's night vision to pave the way for them.

Maybe we should go back outside… Nate cast a glance over his shoulder. The door was still in sight, dimly lit by the moonlight spilling through.

The sounds of Vertibirds buzzing around were still audible that far from the entrance.

No, this was the right decision. Whatever might be hiding in the department store wasn't the Brotherhood. That meant it didn't pose a risk to the Minutemen.

Brenda was behind him. He could almost hear her rifle shaking from the tremble in her ragged breath. He wasn't doing so well himself, but she sounded like she was on the verge of panic.

That was something he could sympathize with.

"Stop here", the ex-soldier whispered. "I'm going to turn my light on, keep yours off."

Cupping his hand over the powerful LED, he switched it on. Even with most of the light blocked, what did make it through his hand provided enough illumination for him to see directly in front of them. The store's interior was even worse than its exterior. Shelves were scattered everywhere, what was left of their contents had been strewn across the floor.

No ferals, no massive insects… nothing that looked like it was going to attack them.

Nate allowed himself a deep breath. "Come on. Let's head for the back."

As they moved further into the store, away from the door, the ex-soldier allowed more illumination to spill out of his flashlight. He still kept most of it covered. Last thing they needed was to attract attention now. Not when Damon was out there drawing the Brotherhood away for them. Regardless of how Nate disagreed sometimes, he always respected the SPARTAN's willingness to risk himself to keep others safe. Supersoldier status be damned, the kid never seemed to worry about himself if it meant he could help.

It reminded him of Cook.

The two of them picked their way to the back of the department store. Under normal circumstances-

Well, under normal circumstances for Nate. Unfortunately, this was this nightmare world's normal.

Under normal circumstances, this would be where excess stock was kept. Now it was just a collection of collapsing steel shelves and countless ruined boxes. As tempting as it was to rifle through them, that wasn't what they were there for. They were-

A flicker of movement caught Nate's eye to his right. His heart beat so hard it hurt.

Right now isn't the time. I need to keep it together. There were two shelves that had fallen across the wide aisle. The product they'd once held was trapped beneath them. The ones on either side of the passage were still upright… that isn't what grabbed his attention though. Just behind them… what was that?

He stole a look back at the swinging door that separated the stocking area from the front of the store. It was closed.

Pulling his hand away from the light, Nate allowed the bright, bluish light to wash over the interior. Brenda clicked her light on at the same time, adding a second beam to the mix.

"You saw that too?" she asked. Her voice was trembling.

Nate nodded, not trusting himself to keep his own voice level. The last thing she needed was to hear him on the verge of another episode.

There was nothing now.

They couldn't stay here. They'd spent- Nate glanced down at his Pipboy- a little over five minutes in the store.

The ex-soldier motioned toward a service door to his right. Once they were out, they had one avenue to cross and then the entire city to hide in. The sooner they got to that, the sooner his nerves could take a break.

Maybe. It depended on if-

Movement again.

Whatever the hell is over there can stay over there. It was minding its own business before we came, it can keep doing that. Nate picked up his pace as they headed toward the door.

No more movement came from their mystery party by the time they reached it. The rusted hinges groaned as the ex-soldier swung the door open. There was nothing he could do about it.

They slipped through and found themselves in a loading dock. It was just as ruined as the rest of the store. Several of the bay doors were still occupied with trailers that were being unloaded when the bomb hit.

Not wanting to test their luck, Nate didn't take the time to search it for more threats. He swept his light over their immediate area, finding an exterior door that had been taken off its hinges at some point. Clear.

He clicked his light back off and, after a few seconds' hesitation Brenda did the same. There was enough moonlight coming from the door to see.

Sounds of Vertibirds drifted through the door as the two approached. They were distant though. It sounded like they were coming from the west. The direction Damon led them.

What the ex-soldier could see from the door was clear. There were a few more trucks and tractor-trailers rusting away. Other than that, the large area was mostly empty. For whatever reason, the sickly-looking plants that had overtaken the areas to the south hadn't gotten here. That was fine by him; with the Brotherhood's attention averted, that just meant fewer places for other things to hide. Nate didn't want to get ahead of himself and say things were looking okay, but the knot that had been tightening in his chest was cutting him some slack.

X

They were on the clock. Nate knew they were on the clock and it was almost painful to go as slowly as they were. This clock wasn't from the Brotherhood. Whatever Damon had done, he'd effectively drawn their pursuers to the west. Whenever they were on a street or between buildings with a view of the Chelsea Creek that split the peninsula from the mainland, he caught a glimpse of the Vertibirds buzzing back and forth.

That was another advantage the SPARTAN had anyone outside of T60 didn't: he could cross the creek without worrying about the radiation. Even the power armor Nate was used to would struggle to do it. Not because of the radiation, those suits were hardened well enough to deal with what was in the water. No, they were too cumbersome. The ex-soldier didn't want to imagine trying to cross the soft, silty riverbed in one.

So no, as he and Brenda continued following the highway northwest, away from the peninsula, the clock they were on wasn't against the Brotherhood. It was against whatever the radiation they'd been exposed to might be doing to them. Damon said he'd stored more anti-radiation drugs there. Hopefully, they weren't affected too badly.

Nate learned the early symptoms of radiation sickness as part of his field training. Dizziness, vertigo, loss of fine motor control, nausea, and vomiting. Neither of them was experiencing any of those. Granted, it had only been an hour or so since they'd trudged through the swamp.

And they still had about a mile to go.

"We should probably get off the main road", Brenda whispered as they stopped for a short break. They weren't running anymore, but the initial sprint had taken something out of the ex-soldier. He wasn't old, but crossing more than three miles of suburb and marsh, a lot of it at a dead run, was… difficult.

Brenda wasn't faring any better. Her breathing had calmed since they left the department store, but she was still sucking air.

"Better chance of us getting found if we stay on here", she continued. "I think we got enough distance between us and them, right?"

The ex-soldier looked back at the ongoing search. He could still see four Vertibirds flying along the creek. Two of them were flying south along the east side, the other two flying north along the west. That was a good sign. If they'd managed to track down or corner Damon, they'd be hovering or circling. That pattern said they hadn't. Yet.

But this entire part of the operation was about risk-management. That's why they were heading to a safe house and not Goodneighbor.

"Good call", Nate replied. He turned north, examining their path forward. Most of the side streets were relatively clear. That was good, it meant they had options. Which one do they choose? Most of the area was covered in grid-patterned streets. They could choose almost any road and find their way to the apartments.

"Let's take a look at that next one." Nate pointed to the west side of the first intersection. They'd been lucky so far, they hadn't come across anyone trying to take shots at them. Not like-

Not like he had with Jess and Grant on their way to the hospital.

The young woman smiled. It was a shaky one, but at least it was a smile. "Sounds good to me."

As they resumed their march, Nate found himself wondering about Brenda's tolerance for this. She'd been thrown into the fire and, while she wasn't skating by, she was handling the mess they were in well.

Nearing the intersection, the ex-soldier motioned for Brenda to stop a few feet short. The street was dark and quiet. The house beside them, as well as the one across the street, were both in relatively good shape. No structurally superfluous holes, besides the windows, someone could shoot them from. No obvious signs of a trap like range markers, there were a few cars in the street but they looked like they'd been there for a long time. There were no bottlenecks to funnel them.

The ex-soldier nodded to himself before slipping around the corner. "Let's keep moving."

Silence greeted the duo as they marched west.

For as hectic as the last few days had been, Brenda was holding herself together phenomenally well. From the negotiations, one of which almost turned into a hostage situation, to this, she hadn't panicked and followed his and Damon's lead.

She went past competent. It was little wonder why Preston wanted her to come along. Same way it was little wonder why Damon liked her so much. Why Damon trusted her.

While they could still hear the Vertibirds' rotors hammering away at the air, at this distance it was more concussion than sound. Nate glanced southwest again and saw them rotate and resume their sweeps.

"He's Damon", Brenda said. "He knows what he's doing."

That was true, the SPARTAN was a skilled fighter and covert operative. But…

"Even the best make mistakes."

She nodded. "You don't trust him like the rest of us. Because your friend."

So she'd been awake for their little conversation that morning. Had it really only been that morning?

No. Well, yes, but there was more to it. Damon wasn't infallible, the supersoldier would be the first person to tell someone that. He's just better at cleaning his mistakes up than most. No, what worried Nate is how much everyone relied on him.

Ah… that wasn't it. It was how much Nate relied on him. Yes, the others count on him for too much, but the ex-soldier was guilty of the same sin. Not only was it dangerous to put that much faith in a single person, it wasn't fair to him. Part of that is because Damon would shoulder that responsibility on his own. He'd run himself into the ground to meet their expectations. Because that's what he thinks is right. An admirable point of view, yes, but one that would never end well.

"It's… more complicated than that. I trust him…" he sighed, eyes returning to their surroundings. "Let's talk about this once we're safe."

The young woman nodded again.

As they continued weaving through the neighborhood they'd found themselves in, Nate felt his body begin to relax. Every house, street, and block they put between themselves and the Brotherhood, the ex-soldier found himself more comfortable. Despite Nate's reservations, the SPARTAN had done what he said he would.

By the time five minutes passed after turning off the highway, most of the tension had drained from his limbs. The nervous energy that had been itching at them for the last 12 hours was almost gone and his breathing was steady. Most importantly, he didn't feel on the verge of another episode.

The dark suburbs around them help. He felt secluded, wrapped in the relative silence of the dead city.

Stopping at another intersection, half a mile from the safehouse, Nate was calm. "Wait here for a sec."

After Brenda agreed, the ex-soldier peered around the house next to him. The street to the south was clear. Same with the one to the north. Both were dark and, aside from a few rusted husks that were once cars and SUVs, empty. There were a dozen times along their path they spotted a feral ghoul, but they made sure to stay quiet and give them a wide berth. If the Vertibirds flying a few miles south of them didn't wake the things, the two of them wouldn't.

"Clear", the ex-soldier whispered and waved his companion forward. They only had a little ways left. Then the creeping worry of radiation poisoning could be dealt with and they'd be somewhere relatively safe.

Relatively.

They continued west for another two blocks before Nate signaled another halt. Another wide intersection to clear. He came to a stop beside a quadplex. The far side had crumbled into the ground some time ago, but the other units were still intact. The door was open, but he couldn't see anything inside.

Turning to the street he studied the two cars that were-

Noise caught his attention from the open door. Before he could turn to it, something hard crashed into the side of his head.

The ex-soldier's vision flashed white, but whatever it was didn't score a direct hit. It glanced off and Nate rolled to his right. The maneuver took him behind the husk of a car as another object flew through the space he'd just occupied.

"The next one'll be a bullet if you try and fight", a voice called from the house.

With his head ringing, it took the infantryman a second to interpret the words. Brenda was still standing on the opposite side of the building, rifle trained on the doorway.

"Back up", he said, waving her away from the door.

"I said not to fight", the person barked.

"We aren't", the ex-soldier responded. "We don't even know who you are?"

"Oh, right, that's rude of me", they said, mockingly. The voice was male, low and gruff with a mildly amused tone. "We're just some folks who came to town for some looting. Now the Brotherhood are all riled up. Since you came from thataway, I'd guess that was your doing."

A sinking feeling settled in Nate's stomach. The speaker's tone was condescending in an… patronizing sort of way.

Then there was his word choice. 'Looting'.

"Yeah?" The ex-soldier began studying the houses around them. There were too many places their new 'friends' could be hiding. If he tried to move from his cover, he'd be an easy target for anyone in the quadplex. He was between a rock and a hard place. His only option was to try and get some information. "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to."

"Didn't mean to what?"

"Piss the Brotherhood off. I'm sure they'll calm down by tomorrow. Why don't you and your people hang out until then?"

The guy barked a laugh. "Sorry, friend, but some of us got better things to do than sit around and wait for those jackasses to stop flying their war-birds around."

"Boston's a big place", Nate said, "you could go downtown."

"And deal with the crazies and Supermutants there? I don't think so."

While he couldn't be sure, that sounded like they had limited numbers. How could he be sure?

His eyes drifted to Brenda. She was hugging the corner of the house, her weapon still aimed at the door. She met his gaze, frowning. After a few heartbeats, the young woman shook her head. So she had a bad feeling about this too.

Nate held up a closed fist. He raised a finger, then two, three, four, then all five before shrugging. Whatever the number was, it was low. He didn't know how low it was.

Understanding flashed across Brenda's face and she nodded. "Ah, okay, you needed to 'loot' this area because it would be relatively safe. If we didn't piss off the Brotherhood."

"Look at the brain on this one", the man groused. "Someone give her a prize. Yeah, sweetheart, it was supposed to be quiet."

"Thanks 'sweetheart', she shot back, "maybe if you bring more people, you'll be able to man up and go into the city next time."

"I'd be careful. We got enough to deal with two people."

It was Brenda's turn to bark a laugh. "So you've got three."

There was a pause before their mystery attacker replied. It was incredibly brief, but it was there.

"We have cover."

Goddamn. They probably had more than three, but not many.

The young woman shot him a smile.

"And hey, we might not get the loot we wanted, but if we bring the two of you back, all will be forgiven.

Brenda's smile vanished even faster than it appeared.

"Raiders", she said- hissed.

"That's such a… mean name, girlie", the man said. His voice- he sounded like he enjoyed the revelation. "But yes. And you're our new 'members'."

Slaves. They wanted to take them back as slaves. That wasn't going to happen. "I'm not much for being a slave", the ex-soldier retorted. "Come out here and get me if you think you can do it without extra holes."

"Oh- you don't want me to come out there, pal. If I come out there, things won't go well for you."

Nate sneered. The jerkoff couldn't see it, but it didn't matter. "I'll take that bet, asshat."

No, no, no. We don't have time to get in a gunfight, we need to get out of here. He glanced at the still visible search party. We can't draw attention.

"We're in a hurry and it sounds like you're having a bad night", the ex-soldier continued. "We'll leave you to do whatever Raiders do." Don't worry, we'll be paying you a visit soon enough anyway. He didn't add that part.

"Not how this goes pal. We put the work in to hunt you down, I'm not someone who likes putting hard work to waste."

Nate blinked. They'd been tracking them? Damn, he was getting rusty.

While the ex-soldier was stuck, Brenda had cover. Could she communicate non-verbally?

One way to find out. He waved for her attention. When she met his gaze, the infantryman pointed to himself, then the ground at his feet. The young woman nodded, that was simple enough to understand. Good. He then pointed at her and back down the street from where they'd come from. Tracing a finger through the air in a circle, he pointed past him to the north.

Brenda gazed at him with a confused frown and cocked eyebrow. Was there another way he could communicate that to her? If-

Understanding drifted across her face and she nodded slowly.

Good. He motioned for her to stay low before putting his finger over his lips.

She nodded again and turned to slip back up the street. He needed to give her a few minutes to get in position. Once she was north of him, the ex-soldier would have some cover fire to move if he needed it.

"You guys from the base up north?" Nate asked.

"Why does that matter?"

"I'm just wondering if you're the same Raiders who let someone break into your base and make off with your prisoners." He chuckled. It wasn't entirely fake. "One of them was a Brotherhood Paladin if you didn't know."

An odd noise, almost a growl, shot from the house. "I asked why it matters."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'. I just needed to know if I should take a threat from you seriously. Turns out there's no need to."

"Oh yeah?" the Raider snarled. "You think you can take us? Just because some freak caught us off guard."

The ex-soldier barked another laugh. "Pfft. Off guard? In your own base?"

"Hey…" suddenly, the guy sounded back in control, "you know the guy who did it? I wasn't there at the time, but I'd like to get a little payback for that one."

"I do", Nate replied, "and while I'd love for the two of you to meet, we don't have the time to arrange a date."

"Oh, but you do."

As soon as Nate realized what he'd just done, the bottom of his stomach dropped out entirely. That was so stupid. How the hell could he make a mistake like that?

I've started relying on him, and his reputation, too much.

Great, now these assholes had a real incentive to capture the two of them. And Nate was the one who gave it to them.

Goddammit. Good job moron.

"If you thought you had us we wouldn't be talking right now", the ex-soldier said, trying to re-establish control over the conversation. "Stop bluffing."

"I'll be straight with you, I didn't know if I wanted to get in a gunfight for a few slaves. That ain't what you are. Nah, you're a ticket, pal. You're a big ticket."

"Yeah", Nate scoffed, "one you probably don't want to redeem." Even he knew that sounded weak. Sure, Damon would turn this guy's head into a canoe, but that didn't matter now. It wouldn't stop him from trying to capture or kill Nate. This wasn't like the encounter in Diamond City. The SPARTAN wasn't an imminent threat hanging over the Raiders' head. That might not stop them anyway.

No, it was up to him and Brenda to get themselves out of this.

Not shooting anyone was probably off the table.

"Whatever bud. Since you seem so confident, I'll let you decide how you wanna do this."

Nate looked down at his rifle. The safety was still on. He checked the chamber and clicked the fire selector into business mode. "Let me put it this way pal, you want me, you'll have to come out that door to get me. You come out that door, I put a .308 between your eyes."

The Raider barked a laugh. "I've heard this one before. It doesn't sound as good as you think."

It isn't like that matters. "Don't care. You asked me how I wanted to do this, I told you."

"Alright then, we'll do it the fun way."

Brenda…

Gunfire poured from the quadplex. It slammed into the rusted husk of a car Nate was using for cover. Cars aren't bulletproof, anything but. There are only a few areas on a car that will stop a bullet. The best bets are the engine and suspension. They're thick and made of metal. The rest of most vehicles are sheet metal at best. 14 gauge steel isn't stopping anything.

The car shuddered under the impacts as Nate crammed himself behind the engine compartment. It didn't seem like they were interested in capturing him. At first.

It only took the ex-soldier a few seconds to notice the gunfire was concentrated on the rear of the car. They'd know he wasn't there.

Simple tactics. That meant they were, one, going to push out of the house, and two, probably don't have multiple positions.

Nate pitched himself sideways. He landed shoulder-first on the broken pavement. It hurt, but his head was just past the front of the car with enough room to bring his rifle around. It was good timing because, an instant later, a dark shape burst from the door.

That figure didn't make it more than two steps from the house before the ex-soldier drew a bead on them. His first shot slammed into their chest.

The person stumbled, crying out in pain, but didn't go down. Nate adjusted his aim and the second round found their head.

By then, a second person was through the door and crossing to the infantryman's right. Out of his line of sight. There was nothing he could do about that.

Before Nate could adjust his aim, a bullet slammed into the ground a few feet from him. It kicked up pieces of asphalt and they peppered his face hard enough he had to throw a hand up to shield his eyes from the onslaught.

He caught a glimpse of something else, small and cylindrical, flying through the door as he did.

Where the hell did they get a flashbang.

Rolling away from the new line of fire, the ex-soldier squeezed his eyes shut and clapped his hands over his ears.

The stun charge went off an instant later and, even through his eyelids, the world lit up in a bright white flash. The bang part of the grenade's namesake did its job too, its sound crashing into Nate hard enough to ring his ears despite his attempts at protecting them.

No time to worry about that. The ex-soldier forced his eyes open to swarming white spots, but he could still see. Barely.

Snatching his rifle as he rolled onto his back, he pointed it toward the rear of the car.

He caught motion to his left.

Nate continued his roll-

And narrowly avoided getting a boot to the side of his head.

Despite that, the Raider still caught him with a glancing blow. A sharp, jabbing pain shot through his skull and the ringing redoubled itself.

It wasn't the first time he'd had his bell rung. This is a fight and if he loses, things go very wrong.

Flipping onto his back, the ex-soldier pulled his rifle back around. The Raider was on top of him again. Nate aimed center mass and pulled the trigger. Then pulled it again. And a third time.

Then they were struggling for the weapon, trying to wrench it from his grasp. The infantryman still had control of it though. He twisted, pulling the barrel back up into his attacker's chest-

Another person dove onto him and a blow to his side, just beneath his ribs, threatened to knock the wind out of him.

Nate breathed through it, still fighting for control of his weapon. In a situation like this, it isn't necessarily about who's stronger, it's about who has more leverage. He still had a firm hold of the pistol grip and his left hand was still wrapped around the forend. The second Raider hit him again, this time the blow connected with his vest's armor plate.

That probably saved him. He didn't have to contend with another breath-stealing strike. The infantryman was able to contort, pulling his knee between himself and the first attacker. With the added leverage, he shoved the Raider far enough away to jam the muzzle of his rifle into their chest. He felt it hit something soft.

Not armor.

He pulled the trigger two more times and was rewarded with a blood spray from the woman's back. The rounds had gone through her thorax, just below her neck.

A furious roar made its way through the ringing in the ex-soldier's head as another strike slammed into his chin. His head rocked backward and bounced off the asphalt below him. That sent his world spinning again.

Come on. Get back in the game. Nate tried forcing himself to focus, but he was struggling. He was already exhausted from the last few hours, his head was already ringing from the flashbang and the first kick, and now he was getting beaten.

He pulled his left hand away from the rifle and shielded his head. Another punch rocketed into his arm hard enough to bounce it into his head.

If I don't get my shit together, they'll take me. They'll take Brenda.

And Damon will come after us.

If what Nate was beginning to suspect about the SPARTAN was true, if that happened… if they did capture him and Brenda, he'd tear the Commonwealth apart to get them- to get her back. That might be good once he finally worked around to going after the Raiders but what happens before that? What happens when he goes after Diamond City because they threatened to do this very thing the day before? What happens when he starts hunting the smaller settlements in Boston proper?

What happens when he goes after the Brotherhood?

It would be a warzone.

Nate couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let Damon do that. He couldn't let himself or Brenda go through that, bear responsibility for that.

Another blow slammed into his stomach just beneath his armor.

The ex-soldier tensed his abdomen and waited for the next strike. It came a heartbeat later. The instant it did, Nate pulled his rifle tight to his chest. His attacker was little more than a hazy outline in his vision. Even so, he could tell they were too close for him to bring his rifle up.

But a rifle can be used for more than shooting someone.

He grabbed the forend again with his left and swept the butt of the rifle upward. The tail of its stock caught his attacker on the underside of their chin and he watched their head snap backward.

That wasn't enough to stop them though. Not that the ex-soldier expected it would be. The Raider roared again. The voice sounded familiar.

It took an instant for his spinning mind to make the connection but, if the guy wasn't on his chest trying to beat his brains in, Nate would have laughed. It was their new 'friend'. This asshole just lost two people trying to capture him.

The ex-soldier slammed the stock of his rifle straight into the Raider's chest. It forced him back-

BOOM!

A gunshot rang out from behind the Raider and the right side of Nate's face was sprayed with something wet and warm.

BOOM!

BOOM!

Two more reports exploded into the night and, after the second blew a section out of the man's head, he collapsed on top of Nate.

"STOP THERE!" a shaky voice screamed. "PUT YOUR GUN DOWN!"

That was Brenda…

The ex-soldier struggled for a few seconds to get his arms free. Once he did, he shoved the body off and looked over to see the young woman standing a dozen feet away. She was aiming her rifle at someone on the other side of the car.

"IF YOU DON'T WANNA DIE TOO-"

"Okay- okay", the Raider pleaded. "Don't shoot. I- I just- they made me come out here." Something clattered to the ground.

The voice sounded young. Very young.

Climbing to his feet, the ex-soldier gently massaged the left side of his head. The two bodies on the ground beside him were both lifeless. The one he shot, a woman probably around Nate's age, the second, their leader looked a little younger. When Nate looked over the rusted hulk of a car, he found himself looking at a kid. He was slim, almost malnourished, trembling hands held over his head. The tears running down his face caught the moonlight and shown like small stars.

He couldn't have been any older than Cass…

"Slow down Brenda", he said quietly. The young woman's arms were shaking almost as bad as the kid's. "He's cooperating."

Her dinner plate-sized eyes turned to him. They were borderline manic.

"It's over."

It took her a few seconds, but she nodded slowly and lowered her rifle.

"Good", Nate said and turned back to the last Raider. "If I think you might try something, I'll put you down too, okay?"

The Raider's eyes were even wider than Brenda's and his mouth was twisted into a horrified grimace.

"Just nod if you understand."

He inhaled sharply, like he just remembered how to breathe, and nodded.

"Great. Now go back in the house and wait there until we're gone."

The kid did.

"Oh", Nate called after him, "I'd recommend not getting caught by the Brotherhood. They'd torture you."

With that, he turned to Brenda. "Thanks for the save."

She was staring at the man she'd killed. He'd rolled face up when the ex-soldier pushed his corpse off. There was a fist-sized chunk missing from where his nose and left cheek should have been.

Nate stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey-"

The young woman flinched so heavily, it was practically a convulsion.

"Hey. It's over. We're-"

As he tried to console her, the ex-soldier felt something wet on the back of his head and it went light. His already weakened legs wobbled under him and the world tilted worryingly. The only thing that stopped him from dropping to the broken asphalt was Brenda. She wrapped her arms under his and helped prop him up.

"I- I got you", she mumbled. Her voice was still strained, but there was some concern too.

Nate reached around and felt the back of his head. His hand came away wet. Blood.

"Uh… I just need a sec." She helped lower him to the ground. "They went after my head pretty hard."

"Uh-huh."

While he probably should have been worried about a possible concussion, the ex-soldier was more concerned with Brenda. Her eyes were almost hollow and her arms were still shaking. She looked shell-shocked.

"You alright?" he asked.

It took a few seconds for understanding to register on her face.

"Yeah- I- uh- I'm not hurt."

That… wasn't what he'd asked, but that might have to wait. They were still in danger, and they still needed to get those radiation treatments.

Nate nodded. "Okay, help me up. We need to keep moving."

"Are you sure?" The note of concern grew to dominate her tone.

"Yeah. I've had my bell rung before. It's temporary. Radiation poisoning's worse."

The young woman blinked slowly. "Oh ye- yeah, you're probably right."

Helping Nate to his feet, the two of them hobbled down the street, him leaning on her. They left the small battleground behind, three dead Raiders on the destroyed asphalt. When the ex-soldier glanced back at the Brotherhood's search party, they hadn't diverged from their original pattern. The only good news of the last 10 minutes.

What about that kid? Right, that Raider kid. He'd been, what, 15? 16? Had they sent him out to get 'experience' on a looting run? What would make a kid that young join the Raiders?

Parents? Maybe he was kidnapped?

Does it really matter? If Brenda hadn't been there… would he have helped kill or capture Nate?

Probably. Also probably not of his own volition. He clearly didn't want to be here.

Only once all of his friends were dead.

The ex-soldier's eyes drifted down to the receding quadplex. It was a dull yellow-white in the moonlight. He could see the first Raider he'd shot, dead on the porch. Had they been just as young as the kid? Their leader- that asshole- had sent them out first, knowing they'd probably die.

Great leader.

As much as he hated sounding like Damon, it didn't really matter at that point. They were still a quarter mile from the safe house. A quarter mile from relative safety. A quarter mile from the radiation drugs.

After a minute or so of using Brenda like a crutch, Nate was able to stand and walk on his own. His head was still swimming, but he had enough balance to continue on his own. Getting caught by another group that wanted to capture or kill them while he was hobbled would be a death sentence.

Despite everything that had happened, the rest of the journey was uneventful. The Brotherhood stayed south, on their grid search pattern, and no one else tried to kill them.

Trudging down the dark, abandoned streets, like always, reminded Nate about what this place used to be. He could see the now rusted cars driving up and down the streets. He could see families in their yards, enjoying the summer warmth. He could smell the scents of delicious food drifting through the air, being made by the many small, family-owned restaurants in the area.

All of it was gone.

The same way Brenda seemed to have just… turned off. Her steps were slow and plodding. She wasn't attentive or aware. If he didn't know better, he'd think she was the one with the head injury.

But nothing happened. 15 minutes after the fight ended, they reached the relatively intact, low-lying apartment Damon had set a safehouse up in. It was a decent spot, right on the edge of another, wetlands to the north. What had it been called…? The Sea Plane Basin? Would it still be called that?

After a few seconds' deliberation, he decided it didn't matter either way. It was surrounded by other small apartments and a few different stores.

Damon's safe house was set up on the second floor, at the back near the service staircase. As usual, the SPARTAN had set several traps along the way. If he hadn't told them about the wired grenades and the cleverly rigged trip-mine (wherever he got that), they would have been blown up three times over.

Once they were inside and the door was securely shut, Nate allowed himself a breath of relief.

They were safe.

For now.

A/N: So. 'What is this realization?' you might ask. Well... it was another double-entendres. There were three. I will decline to describe them, and I will also decline to explain why this chapter was a particular challenge for me. That's for you to find out in the future. That's all we have for this week, I'll see everyone again in March! (Hopefully with less snow…)

Next Chapter: 3/10, Simple, Not Easy