Conquerors

Chapter 9

I take Gage inside my house. I find my old camera lying on the floor. It looks just as I remember it, but grimy and the glass in the viewfinder is cracked. I pop open the back and pull out the roll of film. Pipboys have a little slot to put film negatives in and they'll read them and display an image of what it looks like. I'm hoping it'll work on old prewar films.

I carefully slide the film into the slot. The pipboy takes over, pulling the film in and showing the images on the screen. I peer down at the dim image. The first picture is of myself in the bathroom mirror. I let Gage look, too.

"Everything looks so clean." He observes, fascinated.

"That's how things were. All the shrubs were perfectly manicured and the floors were waxed. It was nice."

I go to the next image, and it's of myself and Nate, smiling, at the park. That was the day I got pregnant.

"This your husband?" Gage asks.

"Yes, that's Nate."

"Real classy fella, eh? All shaved up."

"Yeah, he was in the military. He liked to keep his appearance fresh."

The next image is of me, now pregnant. I was only a couple of months along at this point. I was wearing a rose-coloured linen dress and a straw sun hat.

"We were going to the beach. It was a month or so after I found out I was pregnant."

The next picture is of me, very pregnant this time. And I'm holding onto my stomach.

"This was the night I gave birth. I was in labour and Nate thought that was the best time to take a picture."

"Yeah, you're fucking huge."

"You haven't seen a pregnant woman before?"

"I have. They're usually skinny and on chems so they don't get very big. They have pretty sickly babies, too. It's a vicious cycle."

The next picture is of me the next day, holding onto Shaun.

"This your boy? The one that's missing?"

"Yeah, that's my baby," I say. I touch the screen above his face. I feel an ache in my chest. I swallow hard.

"We'll get your baby back," Gage says softly, giving me a firm pat on the back. He then clears his throat, quickly changing the subject. "Are we staying here for the night?"

"Yeah. Codsworth doesn't sleep so if we have any trouble he'll wake us up."

"Sounds good. I'll go find something to block out the windows." He says before he darts out of the door.

I wander around the house, picking up random objects off the floor and then I make my way to the bedroom. The bed is broken, lying on the floor. The mattress is brown, and full of holes. I sigh deeply.

I use all my strength to lift the mattress and I flip it over. A cloud of dust erupts out of the fabric and floats through the air, the little motes dancing around in the setting sun. I huff, waving them out of my face. At least this side isn't as dirty.

I look through the cabinets, searching for blankets. I find one, an old quilt my mother made me, and I lay it over the mattress.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, setting my backpack on the floor beside me. I open the top and pull out my pistol. I set it beside me.

Gage returns a few minutes later. He's holding onto scrap pieces of wood, a hammer, and nails. He sets to work, holding the wood up and nailing it against the open gaps that used to be my bedroom windows. He lifts a larger piece of wood, but it's too big to hold and nail on at the same time. Without him asking I get up and walk over. I slide in between him and the board and hold it up.

"Thanks, boss." He says, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.

He nails it up before taking a step back to admire his work.

"Not bad." He sighs, dragging a hand across his sweaty forehead.

"Ready for bed?" I ask him.

"Yeah. It's been a long day." He responds.

"Is it safe for us to sleep in separate rooms? My first night in this new world was spent hiding under a bed with my dog."

"Hiding? Why?"

"We heard something loud. It didn't sound human but it spoke...
Broken English."

"It sounded stupid and had a deep voice?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Yes."

"Ah. Those are super mutants. Used to be human a long time ago. Now they have more muscles than brains. Dangerous idiots."

"So... avoid them?"

"They aren't too hard to pick off if there's just one and you have a sturdy weapon. But they are usually in groups. So avoid 'em. Especially the suiciders. They come armed with mini-nukes and you will not live to tell the tale of those fuckers."

"I'll keep that in mind," I respond, swallowing hard.

"You got your dog. You'll be fine. But seeing as there's no other bed and I don't want to sleep on the floor, I'm bunking with you."

"Alright. I guess I can make room." I joke.

"Are you joking with me?" He asks, his face straight.

My eyes widen. Did I do something wrong? "Is that... a bad thing?"

"No. It's just good to see you not look so scared for once. A good overboss doesn't show worry."

"Ah. Gotcha."

"Alright. Let's get some sleep, now." Gage says, pulling off his armour. He throws the pieces on the broken chair beside my bed. He also strips off his pants, sleeping in a muscle shirt and grey boxers.

"Good night, Gage," I tell him, pulling the musty blanket over me.

"Night, boss." He responds.

I peer down at the dog, who is sitting on the floor. I tap the mattress and it hops up, curling up against my chest. It rests its head on its paws. I gently stroke his head, grateful to have found safety in this world.

I let my eyes slip closed. I drift off, thinking about the last night I spent in this room before the war.