A/N: Regards gremlins! So, sorry for not posting yesterday. My family has been going through some stuff. That isn't your problem though. We're here with another chapter. These last few chapters have been a lot of fun and very interesting to write. It isn't the balls-to-the-wall action that has made up a lot of this story but, as I've always said, the characters are what drive the narrative. Damon has been our doorway into this world. Even as the writer, seeing the lengths he's gone to grow thus far are... rewarding. Anyway, that's enough of my rambling, leave a review if you're so inclined and, as always, enjoy!
Chapter 73: Subterfuge
If someone asked me a few months ago whether I make mistakes or not, my answer would have been something along the lines of "occasionally". That was when the breadth of my experience had been tactical and low-level strategic planning and execution. Now my answer would be "every day".
As I watched the Raiders retreat from the school, I couldn't help but think what could I have done to prevent this.
Of course, engaging a force of several thousand combatants, even ones as inept as Raiders, would be dumb. Their strength is consolidated to the base and, with those numbers concentrated in one location, it's a question of time before I was overrun. With the heavier weaponry they've brought out, they wouldn't even need to do that anymore.
The Raiders' retreat was calm, organized, and fast. It was only a minute after the conversation stopped that the rear guard was backing out of the parking lot.
Me from a few months ago would have been itching to pull the trigger, to start a fight. But that's because it's what I was used to, it's what I was used for. High Mobility Small Arms Platform.
Things are different now. I've had to change the way I think, the way I respond. I'd be lying if I said there weren't times I wished I could do things the old way. My focus has been more on strategy now. I have to think bigger picture. Because if I don't, and I just respond, people die. I could die.
Silence settled over the school. I increased the gain on my audio again to listen to the receding thud of boots.
And that's where I've been making my mistakes. I'm a phenomenal fighter but, now, seeing the threat the Raiders pose, I have to wonder how I hadn't anticipated this. How I hadn't prepared us for this.
Problem is, I'm not the only one who missed it. Nate, Preston, Dez, Deacon, Sturges, Able… we all did. And now it's a problem.
We need to figure out how to fix this.
That's a problem for later. Right now, I need to make sure the school stays safe. That means making sure this task force leaves the area.
"Head inside", I said quietly. "I'll be back in a few hours."
Nate shifted behind me. "Hold on. I think we should be a little more conventional here."
More conventional? I looked back at the ex-soldier. He was watching me. "What does that mean?"
"Conventional doctrine is to consolidate forces for safety. I know you're used to unconventional tactics, but the Raiders might be expecting something. They know, or they at least suspect, you're here. I say we play a little straight-up defense. Mix things up." He shrugged. "And I think it might be time to start changing how you operate. At least in some circumstances. This isn't small-team, covert warfare anymore."
If I don't follow them… I won't know where they are or what they're doing. We'll be blind.
But then there's the counterargument, the one conventional tactics are designed to combat: a counterattack. If I leave and the Raiders have split their forces, they'll have less to contend with during the assault. We don't have the forces, nor are we in position, to take the fight to the Raiders.
Of course, my default is 'the more information, the better'. That isn't an issue when I'm on my own or with Fourier's squad.
That isn't what's going on here. There's a settlement full of people at risk.
And then there's the other hard part. I'd be admitting Nate is right.
Which is a really stupid thing to get hung up on.
When I didn't answer, Nate continued. "If we stay nearby, everyone involved will be safer. And… we start playing mind games with the Raiders. Part of fighting an unconventional war is making sure your enemy doesn't know what to expect. Sometimes that means doing the conventional thing."
He isn't just right about this being a smarter all-around decision. My MO to this point has always been aggression. Switching it up will make the Raiders doubt. Whether it's my being here or my course of action, it seeds doubt. I need to start thinking about this in terms of deterrence. If they have to worry about a SPARTAN jumping out from behind every tree or rock when they hit a Minutemen settlement, they'll be less likely to do it.
Even so…
I exhaled through my nose and felt my shoulders sag.
"Fine."
Nate snorted. "Don't sound so damn excited."
"Don't pretend you aren't enjoying this", I muttered as I turned back to the parking lot.
"... I'd never."
"Enjoy this?"
The ex-soldier chuckled softly. "No. Pretend I'm not."
"20 minutes", I said before it could go any further, "we check in with the school, then we clear the perimeter."
"Copy that."
You say that but I can still feel you smiling at me.
Those 20 minutes passed in relative silence. Nothing from the school and, once the Raiders' march faded into the morning quiet, no ambient activity. At least nothing nearby.
What had Dogmeat alerted to? Were there Raiders scouting the area? Would this have turned into an attack if Carter didn't handle it the way he had?
Was my potential presence what swung that decision?
There was a lot to unpack. We could do that after we were sure the immediate area was secure.
Pushing myself away from the kitchen counter, I crept back over to Nate. He hadn't budged from his spot, watching the door. "Let's move."
He nodded toward the door, "after you."
I slipped out into the stairwell and down the concrete stairs.
Street beyond was clear. I shouldered my way through the rusty steel gate and, after double-checking for threats, crossed.
Once I made it to the south side of the street, Nate followed with Dogmeat trotting alongside him.
No movement. No sound.
The ex-soldier continued past me and I placed myself between him and the direction the Raiders had retreated.
We stopped as we neared the school's front entrance. Carter had said the entrances were all sealed… but I don't know their protocols in this situation.
As if in response to my question, the double doors swung open and a half-dozen settlers streamed through. They fanned out around us, eyes on the surrounding parking lot. One other guard waved us into the school.
The other settlers followed us in and the door slammed shut a few seconds later.
"This way", the man who waved us inside said. He led the three of us down the corridor their heavy machine gun was covering and into the settlement proper.
Carter was already waiting on the other side. He had his hands clasped behind his back. I had to imagine it was to keep them from shaking. The man's jaw was set hard, his neck and shoulders were straining, and his chest was rising and falling in short, quick breaths.
Like I said, facing down a fight like that takes guts. The fact he was able to hold it together during the 'negotiations' while he was under this much pressure…
What would I do? It's easy to sit on the outside, waiting for a fight. It's what I do. But if I had to make those decisions… trying to talk my way out of a fight? With people I care about at risk?
"That was good, Carter", Nate said. "I didn't know you were gonna go after them that hard."
The settlement leader shrugged. It was stiff. "What can I say? I don't like being put in a corner."
Okay then…
"Point taken."
"Point…" Carter frowned for a quiet moment before his eyes went wide and he laughed. "Oh- no. That wasn't for you." The man took a deep breath. "Sorry. A little on edge. Never had to do that before. No, you guys are fine. We like our independence but we aren't dumb. So what's next? Like I said: first for us."
"We're going to sweep the area, make sure there's no one nearby. It'll take an hour or so. Even if we don't find anything, we should probably stay on lockdown for the rest of the day."
"Agreed", Carter said, nodding. "Do you want anyone to come? Julian and your people are upstairs."
I shook my head. "No, keep everyone here." I didn't need Nate to come with me either but… the bastard would probably bother me about going after the Raiders.
Wait… why don't I leave him here? I've already said I'd play this conventional. He's the one who's been talking about trust. I can get this done faster, and quieter, without him.
"You too", I said to the ex-soldier.
He turned to me, frowning. "This won't be the first time I've done clean-up."
"Great. Then you don't need the practice."
"Uh-huh." His eyes narrowed. "I feel like you're enjoying this."
"Turnabout."
"… is fair play?" Nate finished, uncertain.
"Yes." I nodded. I feel like it was a phrase I heard from Liam at one point. Had something to do with an operation. I couldn't remember exactly what and it wasn't the time to try. "I'll be back in an hour."
I caught the ex-soldier cocking an eyebrow at me as I turned back for the front of the school. Dogmeat padded after me. It's like the German Shepherd was attached to me at this point. Unless Cass was around, he followed me everywhere. Not that I'm complaining, he's extremely smart for a dog, but I had to wonder why.
X
"Are you doing alright?" I asked as I sat on the brickwork that made up the walls of a planter. Brenda was taking a break from her watch duty. I volunteered to man a post but they turned me down.
"We're used to doing things our way", Pat said. "We have our rotations, people know what to do. Just hang out in case we need you, alright?"
So that's what I've been doing for the last seven hours. Hanging out. I don't know if they want to keep their people from growing accustomed to me. They let the others help. It felt… odd not being utilized here. But if that's the way they want to do it, I'm not going to try forcing them. Even I'm not stupid enough to think that's a good idea.
"Yeah, I'm fine", Brenda said. She was sitting on an old, well-worn bench the settlers had left in the courtyard-turned-garden. "It isn't the first time I've been on watch", she shot me a small smile, "remember?"
But the relative peace and quiet didn't stop my wondering. What about this settlement had 'Castle' been willing to risk a mission like that? It's large, yes, one of the largest in the Commonwealth. But it's also vulnerable. The only reason the Brotherhood hadn't taken it yet is because they're, apparently, not trying to coerce them. An issue they don't seem to have with the other settlements.
"You're never letting that go."
She shook her head. "No, but that isn't what I was talking about. I was talking about that night we were on patrol and you kept jumping out at us."
The position isn't great either. The school would provide a decent forward operating base, but it's still 10 klicks north of Boston. The only other tactical value it might have is cover. For a little while, at least, if the Raiders kept things on the down low, they would be able to operate out of the school without the Brotherhood coming down on them. For the same reason, Maxson isn't trying to force his way in. It has to be their influence. Right?
… Maybe. Or maybe I'm missing it altogether.
"That wasn't what I was doing… and it wasn't what I was asking about. I meant your- uh-"
"Our conversation earlier?"
Maybe I'm missing something but, right now… I need to focus on this.
"… Yeah", I said, nodding slowly.
Her smile grew. "I'm fine. Things aren't going to get better as soon as we talk. And I'm still dealing with- with what I did." She took a deep breath. "But like I said: we're okay."
Dealing with what- oh. Right. The Raider.
"I'm not the right person to talk to but Nate might be able to help with that."
"It's okay, Damon. I understand you're trying to help. I've already talked with him. Just- sometimes you just have to give things time."
Give things time, huh? Yeah. This is new for me, right? Didn't I say something about aggression being my MO? I'm not being aggressive, exactly, but I am pushing. That probably doesn't work with this stuff.
"Alright I didn't mean- I'm sorry."
Brenda huffed. "Don't worry about it. It's… nice to see you care enough to try." She reached down and ran a hand along Dogmeat's back. The large Shepherd was lying between the two of us again.
"Wonder what you did to win this guy over. Seems like he's always with you now."
I shrugged. "Don't know. I don't mind. He's helpful."
Dogmeat craned his head around to look at me before flopping back to the ground with a loud grunt. Brenda laughed.
"He's annoyed."
Annoyed? I cocked my head.
"Do you pet him?"
"Pet him?" I've fed him. Given him water. But pet him? "Not really, no."
"Well, there's your problem." She beckoned me over. "Dogs like that sort of thing. I won't say I don't enjoy it too." She frowned at my hands. "Doubt you'll feel much through those."
Is there any harm in petting him?
It was a dumb question and I knew it. I'm trying here, aren't I?
Sliding off the side of the planter, I knelt beside Dogmeat. He looked at me again. He seemed like he was expecting something.
He's been helpful. If he wants me to pet him… it isn't a big deal.
I placed a hand on his side and started rubbing.
Dogmeat's tongue lolled out of his mouth and he started panting.
Huh.
"You speak 'dog'?" I asked.
Brenda laughed again. "No. You can tell a lot by a dog's ears, but that one was pretty obvious."
A set of footsteps were approaching from behind Brenda. I looked up to see Cass walking toward us from the far side of the courtyard.
It was another heartbeat when Dogmeat noticed. As soon as he did, the large German Shepherd climbed to his feet and bounded to her. Unlike at the Farms, he didn't bark. Did he know things were tense?
"Hey bud", Cassandra laughed. "What are you three up to?"
"I'm off watch duty", Brenda said as she stood. "Damon came to check on me."
"Oh. Julian just sent me down to eat. Said to come back in an hour."
Both of them looked at me. Other than being available to respond for help, it isn't like I have anything to do at the moment. As odd as that feels.
"I've already eaten but I don't have anywhere to be."
Brenda nodded. "Right this way." She led us out of the courtyard and to the west side of the school.
Unsurprisingly, the settlers maintained the cafeteria's function. It was large enough to fit everyone who lived in the school and then some with tables and chairs arranged in neat rows. They stored food in industrial-sized coolers in a kitchen that looked… oddly like a kitchen. I doubt the gas stovetops worked, but they did have a collection of hot plates, both manufactured and improvised. It wasn't a bad setup.
The entire school was the same way: well-fortified, well-defended, and had a relatively robust resource base including renewable power generation. In a world like this, that's worth more than just about anything. It isn't a surprise the Raiders (or the Brotherhood) want it, just that they want it bad enough to pull a stunt like this.
"This place is awesome", Cass said once they'd collected their food and chosen a table. "I've never seen a kitchen like this before."
Brenda nodded. "Neither had I. Is this… normal where you're from?"
Are the Brotherhood and Raiders afraid of attacking it? The Raiders don't care about affiliation, they've attacked Minutemen settlements. Did they not want to risk a fight with such a well-prepared settlement this far away? Is that why they wan-
"Damon?"
Brenda was looking up at me. She hadn't asked Cass if this was normal. Of course, it wouldn't be. That had been directed at me.
My mind dragged up the countless forays into cooking while in training or, rarely, during operations. You learn to deal with the taste of unseasoned food. "I've prepared more meals over a fire in the wilderness than I have in a mess hall or kitchen. But yes", I continued before either of them could point out I hadn't answered the question. I know. "This is common."
"Maybe, if you can find a way back, you could take us with you", Brenda said, laughing.
"I'll ask Shaun", I muttered. The Institute, of course, is the only group that has the technology to help. And they won't, so…
"Sha- oh", she said. "Right. Nate's son."
"He told you?"
Brenda nodded. "Yeah." She looked like she was about to say more but she didn't. Instead, she started eating, leaving the conversation in an awkward limbo.
Guess that's my fault for putting it there.
Regardless of what happened today, I don't believe the Raiders would bring a force that large this far from their base of operations and head back with a simple "no". Nate made the right call, making sure the school is secure, but I need to get out there and track them down. A few hundred Raiders could get up to a lot of trouble if left on their own.
"Hey guys." The three of us turned to see Nate walking through the entrance.
How convenient…
The ex-soldier collected his plate of food and sat at the table.
"Is everyone holding up?" he asked. "These situations are always rough, mentally. You're on edge for hours, waiting for an attack that may or may not come. It's draining."
Brenda shrugged. "I don't know… There's so much going on right now, it's hard to process it all. I think I'm doing alright." She looked at Cass.
The teenager had kept up for the last few weeks, but she was starting to show signs of fatigue. A slump in her posture, eyes that didn't focus quite as well as they usually do. They've all had a little time to recuperate, I doubt it's enough though. I realized long ago, one of the reasons ONI pushed us so hard during training was to condition us for these scenarios. It isn't something you're born with and it isn't something that sticks around if you let it erode.
And that stamina isn't endless.
It's remarkable Cass and Brenda have kept it together in the field as long as they have. Especially Brenda with what she's gone through.
Nate too, I guess. He was out for 2 years, then on ice for 200. And besides the 'break' he had during his time at the Institute, he's been going nonstop.
If I thought I was starting to fatigue, I can only imagine how everyone else feels. Speaks to their
I should do this scouting on my own. Give them another day's rest. We still have a long way to go.
"I'm ok-" Cass started.
I shook my head. "You need a break. We all do. The last three weeks have been hard." I looked at Nate. "We have people relying on us. We have to be honest with ourselves."
The ex-soldier nodded. "Maybe be a little more tactful about it next time, but yes. Non-stop action wears you down physically and mentally. One of the first things they taught me in basic was to make sure I was well aware of my limits." He took a bite of bread and stretched. "I don't know if it's because I'm getting old or that I let myself get fat and lazy, but I'm feeling it."
"But we can't stop", Cassandra said. "Not with everything that's happening."
She was right. Stopping now, when there's still so many things we need- I need to do is hard. But I've had the chance to rest over the last three days. It doesn't make up for the time I'll need for R&R when this is all over. A low-level recon mission isn't going to be a whole lot of strain.
"Agreed. We don't know everything that's happening. If nothing happens tonight, I'll leave early in the morning to track that advanced force. I don't think they're going back to the base. They can do a lot of damage if left unchecked."
"You don't need rest?" Brenda asked, eyebrow cocked. "Seems like you've got a lot going on at the moment too."
Well that's a loaded question. "I do. I'm not at 100% but I can keep going for a while." I nodded at Nate. "Like he said: you learn where your limits are. This is the best option we have. Scouting a 100+ strong force is risky. If you get caught, you're probably going to die. I've spent a lot of time not getting caught and even more not dying."
"What about that time with the Brotherhood?"
How do you know about that? "That's time I spent not dying."
A quiet fell over the four of us. Cass had a bite of something in her mouth as she stared at me. Nate and Brenda were both frowning.
And then Cassandra burst into laughter, spitting the half-chewed roll back onto her plate.
An instant later, the other two followed suit.
"Damon", Nate said through his laughter. "I know you meant that literally, but-" he fell into another short fit. "But your timing is perfect."
This is becoming a trend… But I wasn't irritated. On the contrary… they were laughing at me. They could laugh at me. It would have been impossible for me to imagine the three of them doing this again after how they acted around me a few days ago. Brenda barely looked at me, Cass was so quiet and timid it was almost like we were back in the West Everett Estates, and Nate- that's more complicated. I don't know how but… they'd gotten past their fear of me that quickly.
No, I don't think it's that simple. They would still have their reservations, Brenda said as much. Whatever the case, they're working past them. It could be a testament to their resilience. Or maybe it's a testament to the fact I am changing. Maybe it's both. What matters is it feels good.
That's funny. Feeling good being laughed at. Relieved.
"Yes", Cass said as she and the others began settling down. "You're very good at the "not dying" thing." She was smiling ear to ear. "And we're all happy about it."
Brenda rubbed her face. "Man, I have to be tired if that got me that bad." She paused to chuckle again. "Fine. You go do your thing in the morning. I don't mind another day to rest up."
From there, the conversation continued with some of the tension drained. Brenda and Cass talked about the school, Nate pitching in to tell them what school was like before the war. When they asked me- I did go to 'school' but it was a very different version of it.
I didn't pay the conversation too much attention. While I'm glad they can laugh around me again, that couldn't stop me from trying to figure out what the Raiders might be doing. With a force that size, there's almost no end to the possibilities.
They could decide to hit the Farms or Sanctuary. Both settlements would be able to repel an attack, but it would do a lot of damage and leave them vulnerable.
They could start a fight with the Brotherhood. Maybe attack a stronghold or even Cambridge. That would escalate things quickly.
Or maybe they split up, use the forces they sent down to undertake a limited campaign against the smaller settlements in the area. The image of the burn pit flashed through my mind. Cass's horror when she saw it. My revulsion and anger. They'd massacred innocent people to send a message.
Whenever I get the chance, I'm going to hunt Castle down. I doubt he's the person in charge but he'll know who is.
Taking on hit lists isn't something I did with ONI. I understand the principle though. Pretty sure I can figure the rest out on the fly.
I'll need to make sure the rest of the Minutemen are secure first. That's going to be an undertaking, and it will involve a lot of manpower to whittle down the Raider forces. A tactic like I used on the Raiders, and the Institute has used on me, might work. Standing in a cafeteria while the others talk isn't a great place to come up with a plan that complex.
"Damon." Brenda's voice snapped me back to the present.
"Yes?"
"You been in a library before?"
"Yes", I replied with a nod. "The primary training facility had a library in it. I spent a lot of time there. Not much to do once training is over. They gave me a tac-pad, but it didn't have access to anything but ONI's local network."
Both Brenda and Cass looked confused.
"It's like an advanced version of that." I pointed at the bulky Pipboy on Nate's wrist. "Wirelessly connected to tactical command. Provided real-time updates on terrain, weather, enemy movements… it was a personal information center." I tapped the side of my helmet. "I didn't need it after I got my armor."
"... Okay", Brenda said, frowning. "I don't get- it doesn't matter. Not the point." She stood, carrying her plate to the counter. "Come on. This place has a library and I want to show you something."
Nate hummed. "I'll check in with Pat and Carter. See if they need anything specific. Cass-"
"I'll get back with Julian", she interrupted.
The ex-soldier nodded. "Sounds good."
They didn't give us so much as a backward glance.
Brenda laughed as they left. "Wow. I guess they thought we should have some alone time. Come on." She motioned for me to follow.
Back out of the cafeteria, she led me to the south side of the school. We passed a few settlers along the way. They kept their heads down and eyes ahead as they passed. A group of kids, maybe a little older than Thomas, sprinted out of an adjoining hall and narrowly avoided crashing into us. Once they stopped, most of them had expressions that were a mix between horror and amazement.
"HEY!" someone shouted from up the hall they'd emerged from. I turned to see a trio of armed settlers marching toward us. "I told you to go to the gym. There's a lot going on and we don't need you running around the school. Now apologize and get going."
The kids muttered something that sounded like "sorry" before bolting back the way they came.
After offering us a slightly more audible apology, the three of them followed after the kids.
When we reached the library, I didn't know what to expect. With the condition I've seen most buildings and materials in, I thought there might be a few shelves with tattered books shoved onto them.
That isn't what their library was.
It was a library. The room was large. Large enough I couldn't see the back over the shelves. And, while a lot of the books were in rough shape, they packed them.
A man and woman were sitting behind a large desk just ahead of us.
"Hi Brenda", the man said, waving.
"Hey Dan. We're just here to look at The Wizard of Oz."
Dan nodded. "Of course, just…" he looked at me. "Don't ruin anything, okay?"
She smiled. "He'll behave."
His concerns, apparently, assuaged, the librarian waved us through.
The Wizard of Oz… A fantasy book? It's probably too old for me to have read it. If that book was written back in my universe, it would have had to have been written in or before the 21st century. The only books I've read from that long ago are… historical texts. The development of the first airfoil-based aircraft was my favorite to study. Modern humanity, at least my modern humanity, took that technology for granted, opting for turbines or rockets instead.
But I enjoyed imagining, and reading, about how many different people attempted to make the first powered, controlled flight. The Kitty Hawk, the first one, flown by the Wright brothers. In my universe, we have ultra-high-strength alloys and composites. The Wright brothers flew a plane made of wood. Wood, wire, and fabric.
Remembering the time I spent reading about the advancements during the late 19th century made me smile.
"Damon", Brenda said. I looked down a row of shelves. She was waving me over, holding a small, worn book.
I started toward her, looking around at the book-packed shelves. I never got to browse a library like this. There were missions I ended up passing through a library, but the one I had access to were more… spartan.
Ha.
When I stopped beside her, Brenda held the book out to me and said, "Wizard of Oz."
"That doesn't explain why we're looking at it", I responded as I took it. The front was faded almost beyond recognition. It was a faded green with "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" printed in the center in white lettering that had almost worn into nothing.
"Uh… well, Nate was actually the one who showed it to me." She moved to stand beside me. "I'd never read it before. There are four main characters. Dorothy, a living scarecrow, a lion, and a tin man."
I looked from the book to her. "So there's a character in the book that is called the nickname you've started calling me." The next question was pretty obvious. "What about the character reminds you of me?"
Brenda smiled. "He's heartless."
When she didn't continue, I looked from her to the book, and back.
"… Okay." She was giving me a hard time but how long would it take for the other end of this? "And?"
"You said you like reading, right?"
What? "This book is, what, 300 pages? I don't have time to read it and I doubt they'd let me take it."
"Oh?" Brenda glanced toward the front before leaning in until her head was almost over the book. "Is the big bad supersoldier afraid of some people who take care of books?"
She was looking up at me with what I could only describe as 'a shit-eating grin'.
While I may not be the quip artist she is, two can play that game.
"Didn't you say your father likes books?"
"Yes." Her smile broadened. "If you're going to ask if I'd take-"
"No", I interrupted, "I was wondering why someone who appreciates books wouldn't consider other people caring for them too. I thought I'm the one who's supposed to lack empathy."
"I-" Brenda froze, mouth open. I could see her mind working overtime. Was she trying to come up with a response? Or was she trying to process the fact I'd just played her game?
The quiet continued for several seconds.
As amusing as it was to see her struggling with the change-up, patience still isn't my strength.
"So the tin man in this book is heartless. Is that why you think of me when you read it?"
She blinked slowly. "No… no." The young woman frowned and stepped back. "No. No. You don't get to do that."
"Do… what?"
"You don't get to have a good comeback on purpose", Brenda said. "You don't get to do more things well. That isn't fair." She almost sounded indignant.
Ah. So it was that she didn't like that I had something to respond with.
"Sorry."
"No, you aren't."
I nodded. "You're right."
Her frown deepened. "You're enjoying this too much. The Tin Man reminds me of you because he's heartless and he's trying to find one."
Heartless and trying to find one… I looked back down at the book. A lot of questions came to mind: was he the same as me? Or, since this book was written half a millennium before I was born, am I the same as him? Why was he heartless? What did he do? What was his role in the story?
There was one that stood out.
"Did he do it?"
"Find a heart?" Brenda asked.
"Yeah."
She smiled. "I guess you'll have to read it and find out."
I cocked my head. "Does this pertain to me somehow, or are you doing this to mess with me?"
Brenda didn't respond. Instead, she pulled the book from my hands and started leafing through the pages. She wasn't reading, she was turning the pages too quickly, but there was something in her expression… This isn't a book she happened across.
"You've read that book before."
"...Yeah", she said quietly, voice thick. "When I was little." She stopped on a page and huffed. "I stole it from my dad's collection. The story he told me was he found it when he was living on his own. He found a library and spent a few weeks there. It's one of the books he took with him when he left." She turned another page and started tracing a finger along the lines. "He caught me reading it. It's just an old book but… sometimes I'd imagine being taken away to this incredible fantasy world. Away from all of this. The idea's been with me since then."
A fantasy world, huh? Funny thing is, that's sort of where I ended up. Not that I'd call this hellscape rendition of humanity's homeworld a fantasy, but I didn't even know alternate universes existed until I was literally dropped into one.
"Nate came down here the day you and Cass left and found this. Seeing it reminded me…" Brenda looked back up to meet my eyes. "Thank you for trying to find your heart. I think you'll understand if you read it."
She offered me the book back.
Whatever she's trying to tell me, it must be hard for her to put it into words. Or maybe she thinks the book does a better job of it. Whatever the case, reading this book is important to her. It's a memory she shares with her dad.
That memory of riding on my father's shoulders through a crowded market, laughing. I don't have many of those. The most, maybe only, vivid memory I have is of him fighting during the Covenant attack. Even so, I can understand why this memory would be so important to her. Hell, I think because the most vivid memory I have of my dad is him protecting me, I can appreciate what this means to her.
"Okay", I said as I took the book. "I'll make time."
Brenda smiled. "Thanks."
X
The night was quiet.
Aside from the now-constant sound of Vertibirds in the distance.
No shooting. For now.
It was hard to be on standby with a large Raider force out there doing… whatever the hell they're doing. But I understand this approach. "Hold what you got" as the saying goes. Would the school be able to repel an assault from them without my help? Probably. It's a much more sure thing, with a lot fewer dead people on our side, if I'm here.
That understanding doesn't make me any more comfortable not knowing what they're up to.
Adding to my unease was not being on watch.
So instead of being "on watch", once I was assured by Reese it wouldn't collapse, I spent my time pacing the roof. I stayed clear of their watch positions; most of them were well-camouflaged. The parking lot, the buildings to the north and east, the fields to the south, all of it was calm and quiet.
I hated it.
One doesn't need to be raised for war to feel the mounting tension of a fight. Everyone in this settlement looked like they sensed it. The Raiders weren't going to leave this place alone. So what was their play?
An hour into my not-watch rotation, Nate joined me on the roof. Which was ominous. It seems every time he comes to find me, he wants to talk about something.
To the ex-soldier's credit, he didn't. At least, not for a while. He walked with the comfort and confidence of someone who'd done this before. A lot. I might have more training and physical advantages, but the way the man casually scanned our surroundings as he walked would fool someone who wasn't paying him any attention. It didn't fool me. He knows how to do this. Better than I do.
We were nearing the roof access for the third time when he finally spoke.
"So it went well?" Nate asked quietly.
Like you don't already know… "You haven't talked to Brenda?"
"Nope." The ex-soldier stopped beside the steel door that led back down into the school. "I already know what she thinks. We had plenty of time to talk while you were gone."
I turned to face him. "She's happy I've changed. And that I'm continuing to try. But… she's still uncomfortable with what I do." I shrugged. "That's probably a normal reaction."
"Yes. That's a very normal reaction, especially with civilians." He looked down at the rifle he was holding across his chest. "Even with Nora, it took us a few years to come to terms with it. I was… my mentality wasn't far off yours when I first signed up."
The same mentality as me? "How? Why?"
"I was distant. Numb. Unsympathetic. Same as you when we first met. Maybe a little less violent. My… childhood isn't what you'd call healthy. Crappy dad. Abusive household. I joined to get away." The smaller man turned toward the fields to our south. "I met Nora a few months after I got out of basic. Took a lot of time and effort on her part to break through my thick skull." He smiled. It wasn't happy, more wistful. "When I'd ask her why she did, she never gave me a straight answer. Nora was just… more stubborn than me, I guess."
"When did you realize you changed?"
"That… huh." Nate paused and turned his head up to look at the night sky. He stayed quiet, staring at the stars above. The sky was clear and "It was probably around the time I got back from my second deployment. Nothing major happened but… coming home to see Nora was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me. And the most terrifying. When I was walking off the tarmac, I remember getting this huge knot in my stomach. That never happened before. I think that's when I realized I cared what Nora thought about what I did." He shrugged. "From there, it spread to everyone else. She was the one who broke through." The ex-soldier finally looked at me again. "Thank you for bringing her back. I never did say that."
My mind stopped. Gratitude wasn't what I expected. From him or anyone. At least not today. Not with the issues at hand. What was I supposed to say to that? He'd been distraught at the time. Even if the memory is tainted by what came next, I can understand why. His son was 60 years old, his wife dead, and his world long gone.
Now… he's still supposed to be upset with me over the man I killed at the hospital, Grant. And I can't say the sour taste from his role in the Institute's ambush is gone either.
The way he tried to force my hand at the church, that had nothing to do with them.
But I couldn't find the anger. It's something I've known for a while now. Hell, I've started trusting him too. I'd ask "what the hell is wrong with me?" if I didn't already know the answer…
"And I'm sorry for how I reacted. That was inexcusable", he said once the silence had stretched to almost a minute.
I exhaled slowly and turned away. It wasn't that I didn't want to accept the gratitude or the apology. I don't know how. How am I supposed to take that when everyone just started getting comfortable around me again? How am I supposed to take that when I'm still figuring out how to feel about what I do myself?
How did I feel about her? This isn't about 'what I do'. He's thanking me for what I did.
Would it make sense to talk about that?
If I can't accept his gratitude or apology, maybe the next best thing is to explain why I did it.
How would that help?
I don't know! I don't know how to do any of this.
Okay, so how did I feel about bringing Nora back? Nate talked about her as fondly then as he does now. I can only imagine what she means to him.
"She wasn't "just another body"", I said, voice barely above a whisper. And it was true. Nora was important. I did it because I thought he needed something to help. The ex-soldier was so distraught and I didn't- couldn't- do anything else. All I know how to do is fight. So I went to get her body back so, maybe, it would help. It didn't seem to at the time. "Did you have that funeral?"
"Yeah. We did." Nate stepped beside me. I watched him looking up at me out of my periphery. "And I know she wasn't. I know you did that because you thought it was the right thing to do. You were just trying to help." He took a sharp, deep breath and pushed it out of his nose. "We can't stay mad at each other. Not if we're going to win this. I may not be you, but I am experienced."
I met his gaze. "I don't think I'm 'mad' anymore." I shrugged. "I've never been betrayed before. I'm still figuring out what I want to do."
The ex-soldier set his jaw. "And I've never been friends with someone who killed a squadmate of mine, yet here we are."
"Here we are…" I echoed. How is it the first person in 15 years I've decided to call a 'friend' is a monumental pain in the ass? And has been from day one.
Am I thinking of him as a 'friend' again? Do I… want to?
Might as well. It isn't like our paths are going to split any time soon. And holding a grudge isn't going to help anyone, myself included.
… Yeah.
Besides… as difficult as this guy can be… it isn't like I'm any better. I huffed.
"We've got problems."
Nate snorted. "Understatement."
I turned to face the ex-soldier. "What you did at the church hurt. I… don't know how to put it into words. Shooting me and dropping a building on my head wasn't the part that pissed me off. It was trying to make me attack the Railroad."
"It was the Railroad who dropped the building on you-" I cocked my head at him "- but you know that." He nodded slowly. "I understand."
"Good." I held my right hand out. "We'll figure our problems with each other out as we go."
"Agreed", the ex-soldier said and grasped my hand to shake.
After he left go, Nate started laughing. "I wake up after being frozen for two-hundred years to a nuclear hellscape and my best friend is a borderline-sociopathic supersoldier from another dimension. Whoever came up with this is a crazy person."
"Probably."
A few heartbeats of quiet later, the moment passed. Things aren't fixed, hell, I wouldn't even say they're good, but we're figuring it out.
I'm starting to realize "fixed" is a difficult thing to achieve with people.
"So", Nate said. "Raiders. You don't think they're going to attack the school?"
"No." I shook my head. "At least not now."
When I didn't continue, he cocked an eyebrow at me. "… Care to explain why?"
My eyes narrowed. "You already have an opinion."
"I do, but I want to know what yours is."
Uh-huh… "It doesn't make sense, to try coercing cooperation when they've been assaulting other settlements outright, then to turn around and attack? If they thought they could win that fight, they wouldn't have tried talking. And the Brotherhood is too close."
"Do you think they'll turn around and attack if they realize you're following them instead of defending the school?"
"How would they do that?" I asked. "They wouldn't beat me back here. Unless they brought a lot more people down than we think, they wouldn't have a large enough force to split it like that."
At least, that's my assumption… How bad do the Raiders want this place?
Nate nodded. "... Yeah. Something about this just feels… wrong."
"Agreed."
The ex-soldier looked back at the door. "Where's Dogmeat? Seems like he's attached to you now."
"In the room with Cass." That was the last time I saw him, anyway.
"Ah", he nodded. "She's the only person I see him with who isn't you anymore."
I shrugged. It was true. "He's helpful. And everyone seems to like him."
"Do you?"
Do I like Dogmeat? He's dependable, intelligent, and friendly.
"Yeah." I nodded. "I do."
"You should get some sleep", he said, smiling. "I think we're all gonna have a long few days. Pat has a stand-to scheduled for sun-up. It might be a good idea to stick around for that."
If I wasn't already considering my long-term fatigue, I might have disregarded the advice. But I have been and I've been thinking about sleeping as it is.
And he's right: things are about to get difficult. Difficult means less sleep. Less sleep means more mistakes.
"She told me. Wake me up if anything happens."
"Understood."
With that, I turned to the door and ducked inside.
Yeah. Something's going on. I don't like not knowing what those bastards are planning. We need to figure it out before they make their move. There are multiple ways to do that. I need one that's fast.
As I walked back through the school, the dream I'd had the other night came to mind. These halls were the same as they had been but… different. Very different. It felt like an entirely different world.
I stopped as I got to the door of our temporary accommodations. I could see inside. It was a strange observation for me to make but… the blackness had been so… disconcerting.
Turning the handle, I swung the steel door open. It was dark inside, but a normal kind of dark. A dark I could see into.
What had any of that meant? I ducked through and shut it behind me. Cass was inside, sleeping on one of the cots. Dogmeat was on the floor beside her. The others must have still been out on watch.
Careful to avoid waking them, I settled against the wall opposite the door.
If this had been a few months ago, I would probably have been able to disregard whatever that dream had been as an anomaly and move on with my life.
Now… it stuck in my mind, and not knowing was almost painful.
I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.
Knowing myself, I'm going to be thinking about the dream until I figure it out now. Which is annoying.
X
With a day's head start, the Raiders had a lot of ground on me. Taking the time to check the school's perimeter again slowed me down another hour but… I'm not letting carelessness lead to mistakes. Not against Raiders. I've discovered enough things can go wrong even if, from my perspective, I do everything right. No need to add more risk to the situation.
As had become custom, Dogmeat was trotting beside me as I tracked the task force. It was impossible to hide the signs of that many people. Disturbed rubble, tracks in the dust and dirt, hell, those idiots threw food wrappers and empty drug dispensers on the road as they walked.
Following them wasn't an issue. Catching up to them without being spotted might be.
That being said, I didn't find any signs of additional recon around the school. From what I could tell, the Raiders withdrew all at once. Maybe they didn't feel the need to leave a rear guard. Or maybe I spooked them that much.
While I like to think those assholes are scared of me, I'm not putting people's lives on my ego.
And I'm not letting other people's egos do it either. Cass hadn't been happy about being left behind. This isn't the time or place for training. On top of that, I don't know if she could have maintained the pace to catch them. Dogmeat and I had been almost constantly jogging for the better part of two hours. The only breaks were when we came across a particularly risky-looking intersection, and the dozen times I've checked for tails.
Then the thought of what could happen crossed my mind. If the Raiders caught us, for whatever reason.
Can I beat a force of a hundred-plus Raiders armed with powerful enough weapons to threaten the Brotherhood?
Maybe. They're better than they used to be, but they're still Raiders. That is a razor-thin margin to work with. If I can pick them apart while staying mobile, they'd be in trouble. If it turns into a static fight where I have to outshoot a company, that's a losing proposition.
If Cass was with me, it would be a static fight. That's a risk to myself and her I can't take.
Nate knew that. The man was intelligent and experienced which is why he stepped in to affirm my reasoning.
I knew we were getting close when, at the edge of a small park, the boot prints had sharp edges and clear tread imprints.
It wasn't 10 more minutes before I could hear the din of conversation.
And then we found them set up in a strip mall.
Yeah, it was more than a hundred. Easily. This was a large force. The worrying part is, even with a force this size, it was probably less than 5% of their fighting strength.
A problem for another time. For now, it was about finding out everything I can. Information saves lives.
It can take others but that's a different conversation.
So Dogmeat followed me through a few alleys to keep out of sight. We ducked into a house across the street and north 100 meters from the strip mall. There were good lines of sight to the group of drug-addicted mass murderers.
That was a rich insult, coming from me. But there were two distinctions: I'm not an addict, and I don't kill random people.
Well… I don't do that anymore. And I never intended to do it in the first place.
They still looked like they were rousing themselves for the day. It was amusing considering it was almost 1000. Did they honestly think no one would threaten them?
While I might not be a threat at present, the Brotherhood is still in the area.
As for their temporary haven of choice, they had set up rudimentary fortifications: dragging pieces of rubble and even a few burnt-out cars into a semicircle around the mall's front entrance. No doubt there were defenses inside the buildings too. It wasn't enough to call anything permanent, but it was a lot of effort to make something they were only going to occupy for a night.
Which led me to believe this wasn't 'just for a night'.
The two of us waited, watching.
It was another two hours before I noticed a detachment leaving. 15 Raiders split from the main group and began heading north. My first thought was a team to report to the base.
Then another platoon-size force left. And a third.
Were these raiding parties?
No. There weren't any settlements in the area a force that small could overrun.
Recon. These were recon teams.
But that still didn't sit right. You don't deploy a force like this to do recon, even as a secondary function.
This felt like something they were doing to pass the time productively.
The question, then, is whether they're waiting for new orders, or their waiting to carry out orders they've already received.
An interrogation would be the fastest way to figure that out. It's been a while since the last time I did one of those. While not the most reliable source of information, they're generally effective with people who aren't trained to resist or good enough liars.
Yes, an interrogation might work but they're sending out groups that are too large to deal with quietly.
Another recon team left.
It dawned on me, a lot of these Raiders looked younger. As I watched, the 12-man team started north toward my position, I counted at least 7 that couldn't be any older than Brenda. Two of them might have been my age. The others, if I had to guess, were late-20s, maybe early-30s. It was a similar story when I looked back at the main force.
This was an interesting composition for a task force trying to capture one of the largest settlements outside of Boston. You'd want your best personnel for that. Was it a deliberate decision or a strategic error?
I turned my attention back to the nearing Raiders. 12 Raiders. I don't need all 12 for an interrogation. Two or three would suffice. So how do I get those two or three? A fight would be loud which means it's out of the question. Capturing them is likewise unworkable since detaining that many people alone would be difficult and time-consuming. Trying to separate a couple from the group… maybe. Very maybe.
But… does this have to be quiet?
If they're far enough away the sounds of combat don't get back here, I wouldn't need to be quiet.
Or, on the other hand, if I can lure the main force into a trap using-
No. I don't have the resources to fight a force this large effectively. I need to stick to the plan.
Right.
So how do I do this? They were maintaining good enough spacing a melee would be out of the question. Separating them might work… but it could backfire and lead to a fight if I don't do it perfectly. Adding to my problems is my lack of knowledge. I don't know anything about the immediate area.
Scenario after scenario played out as I watched them near my position. 12 people, peeling two or three off without making noise… the only solution I could come up with was drawing them into a bottleneck. The problem with that is, if they suspect I'm in the area, they'd report anything suspicious back to the main force.
There aren't many options. With three teams, and a total of 42 people outside the main force, I doubt they'll be sending out many more detachments.
Figuring out what the hell they're doing is critical. I can't rush this.
So I stayed put as the team of Raiders marched past me.
Whatever I choose to hit, it needs to be workable. No, more than that, it needs to be certain. There's no room for chance here.
Clouds rolled in from the ocean, intermittently blocking the sun as they traveled overhead.
Five more minutes passed. Then Ten. 20.
Dogmeat never moved from his spot laying beside me, ears forward and alert.
Again, who trained this German Shepherd? And what happened to them? I couldn't imagine whoever put as much time into him as they had would abandon him. And considering Dogmeat was playful with people he knew when not in the field, I think his prior owner took good care of him too.
How the hell had he wound up alone at that gas station?
15 more minutes ticked off the clock when movement caught my eye.
More Raiders were leaving the group, heading north.
But not the full complement.
There were three and they were moving fast. That's interesting…
Dogmeat stood as I moved toward the back of the house and followed.
We need to get a little distance from the group but they just made the mistake I was hoping for.
X
The garage was large. It could have fit four cars in it with room left over. As it was, only one of the bays was occupied by a vehicle. There was a lift behind it, and then a few toolboxes that were more rust than steel.
In the empty bay, beside the relatively well-preserved car, sat my three targets. I'd dragged three of the sturdiest looking chairs I could find out into the garage, found a few bed sheets I cut into ribbons, and tied them to the chairs. Enough was left over for gags and a few makeshift tourniquets.
All three men were staring at me. The two older Raiders looked pissed. The younger one was wide-eyed and afraid. He would be the easiest mark but, considering his age, I don't know if he'd have the same information the other two do.
I don't know if any of them have information that will help.
Saving him for second might be the best option.
I sat on the car's quarter panel in front of the Raider on the left. He didn't look quite as old as the one on the right. That might have been down to his clean-shaven face. Who knows if age is even a sign of seniority here. I'm guessing. It isn't as though I have a whole lot of time to work with. It won't be long before the main group starts looking for me.
"You have three chances", I said. "You lie to me once", I kicked his right shin, the armored point of my boot connecting with a dull thud. The Raider leaned to his right as far as the restraints around his arms would let him and groaned through the gag. "I cut your thigh open." I slipped my knife from its sheath and pointed it at his left arm. "Second time is your upper arm. The third time, I cut into your trachea and let you drown.
This guy probably wouldn't answer but, even if he doesn't, it's a lot harder to maintain your composure when you see and hear what's coming.
"Let's get the first lie out of the way", I said as I reached to pull his gag out. "What are you doing here?"
Just as the gag cleared his mouth, he made the distinctive sound of gathering saliva and mucus at the back of his throat. My hand had already been coming back around to clamp over his mouth, pre-empting a potential scream. Instead, a wad of spit smacked into the palm of my gauntlet. I didn't see a need to change my hand's path so, instead of the spit flying into my visor, I smeared it onto his face. He recoiled, trying to pull his head away from my hand but there was nowhere for him to go.
"That wasn't an answer. You do that again, I add a 'chance' to the count." I pulled my hand away and wiped what was left of the spit on his worn cargo pants.
"I ain't tellin-"
"Stop", I interrupted. "Don't waste one of your answers on a played-out response. If I don't get this information from you or", I nodded toward his two companions, "them, I'll go find more. I'll keep going until I do get the information I'm looking for."
"HA! What, you think they're just gonna sit back and wait around? They already know we got taken." His voice was so scratchy it sounded like someone had taken sandpaper to his throat. Or he'd spent most of his life smoking. A lot.
"No", I shook my head. "I'll worry about that."
"Don't kid yourself, you giant metal dick. You don't wanna fight our crew, that's why you came after us instead. You know that's a fight you wouldn't win."
I shrugged. "Maybe. I've fought enough of you to know how you work. That isn't my concern at the moment. Right now-"
"You wanna know what we're doin'." He barked another laugh. "Well you can go fuck yourself."
… Okay.
"I'll count that as one."
The younger Raider beside him leaned away, eyes going even wider, and he whimpered through the rag in his mouth.
For all his bravado, the Raider clenched as I leaned forward, face twisting into a grimace. I clasped my hand back over his mouth and drove my knife a few centimeters into the outside of his left thigh. He threw his head back and howled in pain. Even though it was muffled, it still reverberated through the garage.
The cry continued for a few seconds before I started pulling the knife back toward me. It redoubled as soon as I did.
Centimeter after agonizing centimeter, I cut through the muscle in his thigh. Edge weapons aren't meant to be fine-slicing implements. Their blades aren't as sharp as something like a carving or cooking knife. They're meant to survive impacts with armor and bone. Anything honed to a fine edge would chip immediately.
So, as I pulled the knife back, it was doing more tearing than cutting, leaving a long, jagged wound in the meat of his leg.
It was more painful too. I've been cut by both combat knives and sharper, honed ones. The sharper the blade, the less painful the wound is.
The Raider was damn near convulsing in his chair.
Blood was pouring from the gash.
Once I neared his knee, I pulled the knife out and shoved the gag back in his mouth. I took another strip of fabric and looped it around his thigh just above the wound. He paused for a breath and I yanked the makeshift tourniquet tight.
The howling resumed. And continued. My other prisoners were much the same as before: the younger one was staring at his compatriot, terror in his eyes, and the older one was glaring daggers at me. He could sit there angry all he wants. At the end of the day, it doesn't mean anything. Not yet. It's all about how he reacts if I get to him.
Despite the ticking clock, I stayed where I was, sitting on the car's fender in front of the now-wounded Raider. I might be in a hurry, and they might know I'm in a hurry, but the last thing I need to do is come across looking desperate. On top of that, it might help wear down the nerves of the other two.
So I waited.
My lack of emotional response wasn't lost on me. It was a stark juxtaposition from how I felt about Dawn. Ending her life had been… I don't know if 'agonizing' is the right word, but it wasn't easy. Not like this. I don't know if I could say this felt good. It sure as hell didn't bother me.
Their burn pile at Vinny's came to mind. The charred bodies. The settlers they'd massacred for no reason other than to scare everyone else. This wasn't justice though.
But that didn't mean I couldn't take some penance for them.
After a minute, the screaming began to tail off. The man's chest was heaving up and down and his skin and shirt were drenched in sweat.
The agony in his eyes was mixed in with hatred.
"Second try." I pulled the gag from his mouth.
One of the other Raiders, the older one, tried to shout something through his gag. I doubt it was the answer to my question.
"I'm going to get the answer. You can save yourself and your buddies a lot of pain."
It looked like he wanted to spit at me, but he didn't have the strength. The Raider was slumped in the chair, chin touching his heaving chest. But his eyes were still locked on me.
"You-" he swallowed. "You're a dumbass. These boys aren't gonna sit around waiting. Even if you could get the answers, it wouldn't matter by the time you got 'em." He shot me a weak smile. "Your Minutemen are a flash in the pan asshole. We'll snuff 'em out like the Gunners did last time."
I blinked. He'd just told me they are planning something. And it probably has something to do with the Minutemen. I don't want him to tighten up so… how do I ask without hinting he did that?
Ask the same question.
"What are you doing here?"
He smiled again and nodded toward his left arm.
Oh no. You don't get off that easy.
"No", I said. I leaned forward and grabbed his wounded leg, digging my thumb into the gash.
"You son of a bitch", he hissed through clenched teeth as he convulsed against his restraints.
"What are you doing here?"
"Ahhhh…" The sound was more of a groan than response. "Killing. You. Mother. Fuckers." His jaw was so tight I thought he might break his teeth.
So yes. They're planning an attack on the Minutemen. When and which settlement?
"That isn't an answer."
"Then. Cut. Me. Ass. Hole."
I jammed the gag back in his mouth and cut his upper arm open.
The Raider's howls weren't as agonizing as the first round. Whether he was getting used to the pain, or it didn't hurt as much, I don't know.
When I glanced at the younger man to my left, he had tears streaming down his face. He was one wrong answer away from his turn.
This time, the screaming took a lot less time to die down.
"Last chance", I said as I freed his mouth one more time.
The man was breathing hard. His chest was rising and falling so violently it seemed like he might hurt himself.
"Good", he managed. "Do it."
"This isn't going to be a painless death." I touched the knife to his neck. "You'll still be able to breathe for a while. I'm not going to cut into any arteries so you won't bleed to death. You're going to drown as you inhale blood, but it's going to be slow."
"We ain't. Gettin out. Of this garage. Alive." He tried to spit again but it didn't make it past his chin. "I got. Nothin. Else. To say."
He wasn't giving anything else up. I know they're planning an attack on the Minutemen. I just need to know where and when now.
"Your call." I grabbed the back of his neck and jammed the knife into the front of his throat.
Contrary to popular belief, a cut across the front of someone's neck is a relatively survivable wound. Even rupturing the trachea doesn't guarantee someone's death. It's why "slitting their throat" is a misnomer. The way I was taught is to stab into the meat of the target's neck just in front of the spin, blade facing forward. After that, you can either leverage it to one side or, if you're strong enough, rip it straight out the front of the neck. This severs everything. There is no surviving a wound like that.
That isn't what I did. Instead, I cut a channel wide enough to allow the blood that was boiling from the wound to cascade into the Raider's lungs. It produced a strange, continuous gurgle as he tried to breathe past the structurally superfluous hole and its new obstruction.
The young Raider started shouting through his gag.
My first mark tried, for an instant, to maintain his gaze. It didn't last. His life was draining into his lungs. I don't care who you are, you panic when that happens.
The man started writhing against his restraints, trying to grasp for his ruined throat. His increased heart rate and attempts at breathing would only make things worse.
It would be a minute before he died. I'm not sure what would be more effective, waiting for him or moving forward with the next interrogation, but I don't have time to sit around.
I stood and stepped in front of the younger Raider. He recoiled, head turning to the side and leaning back so far the chair started tumbling over backward.
Grabbing his knee, I rocked him back forward and the front legs hit the concrete floor with a clack.
His bulging eyes were locked on the knife in my hand. It sounded like he was trying to say something through the gag.
"You're up", I said and pulled the rag from his mouth.
"Please! PLEASE- I- I don't-"
"Want to die. Yes. That's your decision."
"Bu- but you'll me. Even if I tell you."
"No." I jerked my head at the slowly suffocating Raider. "Your buddy assumed that, I never said it. Now", I continued before he could protest, "same three chances." I pressed the flat of my knife against his thigh. "Same wounds."
He shook his head. "Please…" his breath hitched and he let out a hard sob. "Please. If-"
"Don't tell me they'll kill you", I interrupted. "I'll kill you a lot sooner than them if you don't."
The older man to his right tried to shout something through his gag. My mark started turning to him but I grabbed his head. "His turn is next. It's you and me. What Minuteman settlement are you attacking? When are you attacking it?"
Silence, or the lack of an answer, I guess, greeted the question. He started crying again, tears tracing tracks in the sweat and grime on his face.
"This isn't fair", he mumbled through his sobs. "I didn't do anything."
…
… What?
"You didn't do anything? What the fuck do you mean 'you didn't do anything'?" The Raider cringed, shrinking away from me the best he could, bound to a chair and with my hand holding his head in place. "You're a Raider. Your people massacre towns for optics and you say you didn't do anything!? Three days ago, I found a Minuteman settlement where you bastards burned everyone. That group attacked another settlement I was at that night. And how many have you hit further north? "I didn't do anything"."
Calm down. I need to answer my question. I need to stop this from happening again.
Didn't do anything…
Taking a deep breath, I pulled as much anger as I could out of my voice. "What settlement are you supposed to attack?"
"I- I don't-"
"Do you want to waste your first answer on a stupid lie?" I asked and turned my knife so the point was jabbing him in the leg. He tried to turn to look at his companion but I twisted his head to my right instead. The first Raider was barely moving anymore, head leaned back, blood streaming down his neck and chest. Air bubbles were slowly seeping from the wound.
"Answer."
The young man choked out another sob and squeezed his eyes shut. His nose was running, mixing in with the stream of tears and caked-on sweat. It looked pathetic.
I didn't do anything.
I didn't ask again, I clamped my hand over the Raider's mouth and plunged the knife into his leg. He screamed.
The other Raider wrenched at his bindings. He was trying to shout something too. His eyes were narrowed to slits, full of fire and hatred. He hadn't had this reaction to the first guy.
"WAUGH!" I turned back to the Raider who had my knife buried in his leg. He was trying to shake his head.
"Come again", I said as I pulled my hand away.
"Farms!" he shouted, agony clear as day. "Your farms to the west!"
Huh… That was a good target. They're the Minutemen's primary internal source of food. Take that out and you cripple our resources. But that settlement is well defended. With the number of people there now, this force wouldn't be enough to take it.
"Are you waiting on reinforcements?"
The man to my right started shrieking through the rag in his mouth. My current mark started turning toward him.
Distractions aren't a good thing. I need him focused on me
I kicked the man in the side hard enough to send his chair tumbling over and him crashing to the ground.
"Reinforcements", I repeated.
"I don't know", he said, weeping. "I don't know."
My knife was still buried in his thigh. I hadn't started cutting.
"You sure?" I tugged on the knife.
"All I know-" his voice broke and his breath hitched in his chest. "-is we're supposed to wait here until tomorrow."
That probably means reinforcements. Which then means they most likely hadn't intended to assault the Farms originally. Whether that decision was made because the school turned them down or they learned I was around I don't know. It doesn't matter either. Both ways, the Farms are in danger.
It felt like a good answer but I need to check my work.
"Alright", I said and pulled another length of cloth out. I wrapped it around his leg and tied it down. "Let's make sure you aren't lying to me."
Clamping my hand over his mouth again, the Raider screamed as I pulled the knife from his leg. Once he settled enough, I stepped back and allowed him to sag in his chair.
I pulled the third Raider back up and set the chair down on its legs. His eyes were glassy and unfocused. He must have hit his head against the concrete floor. I doubt it was hard enough to concuss him. It was probably just vertigo and disorientation. That's fine, I don't need him to do anything.
"What settlement are you attacking?"
The younger Raider coughed and turned to me. "I-"
"Slow down." I placed my knife over the last Raider's leg. "Make sure you give me the right answer."
"Wha-" realization dawned on his face. "N- no. No no no. No, I told you. I told you. The farms! That's all I know! The farms!"
My current target flinched as I pressed the knife against his leg.
"You're sure?" I asked.
"YES!" the young Raider shouted. "Yes, we're supposed to leave tomorrow afternoon!"
Tomorrow afternoon. It would be a few hours' march for a group as large as theirs. So that means I have a little over 24 hours to get the settlement prepared. Well, more prepared. The more they know about an attack, the less they'll lose during the fighting.
But I had to wonder… that's an odd target to select on a whim. The Farms are the closest thing to a hard target aside from Sanctuary, the Brotherhood's strongholds, and the Institute the Commonwealth has to offer.
Was this just a power play by the Raiders? It seemed like it but…
I don't know.
A/N: So, a little bit of everything in this chapter. Something I've been trying to do is show Damon isn't the only one going through changes. Brenda, Cass, and Nate are, obviously, the ones we see taking the largest strides, but that's because they're the ones we've been spending time with. Choosing to join the Minutemen was a major step for the folks at the school. That's without talking about the changes to other parts of the Minutemen. There are a lot of exciting things coming up, this character development isn't for nothing. I will not be spoiling anything though so you'll have to wait. I'll see everyone next time!
Next Chapter: 7/14, The Approaching Storm