Chapter Text
The sting of a cold Massachussets winter was expected. The rain, the chill, the bleary skies and calm waters. A dozen times worse, now, though. From the south, the radiation blew in, blanketing the skeleton of Boston. Some hellish perversion of thunder reverberated off over the mountains, lit up the sky in sickly-pale greens and yellows. Couldn’t even be called a sky anymore. The first time she’d seen it, the thought had crossed her mind that, perhaps, she’d wandered beyond the threshold of life into some horrible underworld.
It was normal, now. Expected.
Reed’s geiger counter sprung to life for a moment, like a snake’s thrashing corpse, every time that thunder came, and the lightning split the diseased clouds. She was safe from the fallout-sodden in the corner, under the sagging floor of some long-dead, nameless apartment complex. The iodine in her blood did the rest of the work.
She hoped. These storms were uncomfortably frequent, a foe she couldn’t bring down with bullet or blade, and she awoke at times worrying she’d stand to find her pillow caked in clumps of brown hair and the crusted fluids that marked the creation of a ghoul. Nowhere--not California, not Nevada, not Chicago, not even D.C had been so inhospitable in its very climate as the Commonwealth had proved to be. She’d heard-tell that similar storms were common in the Appalachians, as well. Another destination to cross off her list.
From somewhere outside, she could hear the conversations of those too stupid or too careless to bother taking refuge during a storm like this. Raiders, chattering some inane bullshit at each-other. Drooling complaints or idle discussion of the main event beyond the doors they were guarding. She couldn’t tell, through the deafening din of the rain, but she could have fun making her guesses.
She glimpsed at her Pip-Boy--the old 2000 line. Coming up on an hour since the storm started. It would blow away soon. Now was the time to prepare to move. She tucked the device away into her bag and readied her rifle, checked over the bolt and made sure she had her clips on hand.
Everything was there. Everything was in place, just as it always was.
It was always easy. A handful of years spent surviving, fighting, learning, it all paid off. Built up and up, so high that it was impossible to reach, eventually. Not that it wasn’t dangerous, of course. Even a child with a gun could stray a bullet into her heart completely by accident, if she wasn’t careful. But they always went down fast, never knew how to pay attention right. Never took cover right, never watched out in the first place. A bullet from a roof, a bullet through a wall, one to the knee and one to the head, three dead and one more left too scared to do anything but hide and pray she didn’t find him.
She always did. Always made it quick. No point in sadism, after all. She wasn’t one of them.
The doors were open, now. Even from outside, she could hear the cheers and the jeers and the announcer’s voice piped through the centuries-old speakers. She wasn’t surprised, of course. Raiders were never clever when it came to their names. The place smelled like a dumpster, sounded like a baseball stadium in peak season. It wasn’t hard to slip into the auditorium, up into the ruined seating section. Behind the raider watching up above.
There was a fight raging below, brutal and cutthroat. They meant to kill each-other, there was no doubt, but Reed could already pin the winner. The desperation, the violence, the intensity. The single most brutal raider in the world could never match the fire of an experienced woman, ready to kill. The one with the red hair, she would win.
But Reed wasn’t there to spectate, or to place her bet on a winner.
The raiders were distracted, the lot of them, by the fight. She could count them easily.
Three at the bar, one on the balcony across from her. Two on the floor below them. Three spectating around the ring. One dead at her feet. She heard at least one other through the floor below her, screaming obscenities audible throughout the theatre., but the echo was too severe. She’d never pin him down well enough to shoot through.
The final blow was made in the ring, the woman’s opponent collapsed. Blood trickled out onto the floor, ran through the seams in the planks and dripped down into the backstage area. The crowd erupted, anger and triumph. The announcer said something, but she wasn’t listening.
Reed levelled her rifle on the men across from her, breathed out. And squeezed the trigger.
Her ears were ringing, as they spoke. The ghosts of the gunfire that echoed off the walls had burrowed their way into her head. She’d always meant to get ear protection, but never remembered. Not then, not now. Not ever, she imagined. It impaired her too much, she thought, really. But she’d go deaf eventually.
“I’m not keen on takin’ slaves, good way to get yourself shot when you’re not lookin’.” Her voice was a drawl, a reminder of where she grew up. A long time ago, in a place where everyone spoke like she did. Nobody did now. She’d gone, she’d checked.
“Yeah, Tommy, y’see? She’s not gonna buy me off o’ you.” This woman, Cait. Reed didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to notice her. Didn’t want her along, but she did at the same time. Desperately. Her face was a reminder, but was it a good one? She fought herself, her mind raged. She must have looked terribly rude.
“Hey, c’mon, don’t think of it like that. You’re not my slave, right Cait? It’s a contract, come on, cut me some slack here, you’re making me sound like a real bastard.” The ghoul was indignant, almost upset by the accusation. She couldn’t say she blamed him.
“You are a real bastard, Tommy.”
Her shoulder was bleeding. She could see the trickle down her sleeve’s pale fabric. Only the painkiller that stopped it from burning. Served her right for wearing the old duster instead of real armor. She could see the new hole in the brim of her old slouch hat, too. She’d have to patch it. Didn’t want the sun coming in, shining in her eyes while she walked. Were they talking to her now?
“Listen,” she didn’t care to consider what might have been said to her, “I’ll take her if she wants to come.” She wanted her to come. “Cait, right?” No, she didn’t. “I won’t lie, I get into the shit out there a lot, but judgin’ by what I saw, that’s what you like. And I like what I saw too.” Was it a slip? Did it even mean what she thought it did? “I could use someone talented watchin’ my back out there. Won’t force you to do shit you don’t want to, but there’s a split of the caps in it for you, always treat my partners right.”
“Oh, you’re offerin’ to pay me now, are you?” There was an indignancy there, one she recognized. Sympathized with. Trust had dried up a long time ago. “I don’t need your charity. Look, Tommy, just give me a bit. This place’ll draw in new customers in no time, just wait a bit. You won’t survive without me, I’m your damn headliner for fucksake.” There was a spirit there, a desperation to stay. But, it also seemed wrong. Fake.
“No, little bird. Look, if you don’t want to take her, fine. But she can’t stay here.”
“What?!” It was loud in the echoes of the auditorium walls. Didn’t help with the ringing.
“I’m cutting you loose little bird. So you can either go with her, or you can go out there on your own.”
It was fair, she thought. Firm, but caring. The right way to do things.
There was a silence, then, over the room. They were all alone with their thoughts, piecing them together. Coming to terms with the reality that had been set. This was pivotal, Reed knew. One thing, a lone action, a single decision would change the course of a life forever. The lives of two, or three, dependant on the outcome.
“Fine.” Blazing green eyes bored into Reed’s soul. She couldn’t see the way her heart seized, her soul locked away wept over the pages of a history long past that made their home in that green flame. “You make damn sure that you live up to that promise, though. If you don’t, I’ll make sure I get those caps.” A threat. It was rare she let them slide, but it was impossible not to, here.
“I don’t make guarantees often, miss Cait,” that face soured at the honorific. She couldn’t stand it, “you’ve got my promise. Split of the caps of every job we do, no matter how big or small. I get two, you get one of ‘em.”
“Also, don’t call me that ever again. ‘Miss’.” She was wracked with a mighty shudder.
“Agreed.” A smile, genuine. It was rare, these days, after so long, that she felt an unbidden smile appear. It was far from her favorite feeling in the world, but… it wasn’t the worst, either. “Say your goodbyes, if you want. We’ll head out then.”
“No need.” The words overlapped her own closing. “I’ll see you later, Tommy, you bastard.”
“Stay safe out there, you two. Don’t get her killed.” A grotesque finger levelled at Reed’s face. It pissed her off.
“I don’t intend die, the either one of us.” It was cold. Colder than she’d thought it would be. Her measure was slipping, it was time to go. Recuperate. Process.
They left, not a word between them save the rhythm of their footsteps in tandem. Her heart shuddered.
The butterfly’s wings had shifted. She knew she would never be the same.