Conquerors

Chapter 10

I awake with a start. My ears pick up on the sound of the dog growling. I sit up and grab my gun, blinking as my eyes adjust. I reach over to grab Gage and wake him, but I find his spot empty. Where did he go?

I slip on my boots and get out of bed. I cautiously tiptoe down the hall, listening hard for any indication of life. I find the front door wide open, the barricade moved. I gasp.

I step outside, looking left to right. No sight of Gage anywhere. Did he change his mind about coming with me? I feel disappointment gnawing at my guts. I close the door behind me, keeping the dog inside, to keep him safe.

I hear the sound of twigs cracking under a boot. I slowly walk around the right side of my house, through the holy awning, and out back.

I whip around the corner, my gun raised. I jump, startled when I find Gage there.

He lets out a startled yell and whips around to face me.

"Jesus! Don't sneak up on me like that! Are you tryin' to get yourself killed?"

"I was just coming to look for you."

"Well, I was just takin' a piss, boss. Ain't gotta worry about me like that."

I nod, feeling sheepish as I go back into the house. I find Codsworth in the kitchen, using a mangled feather duster to clean the cabinet beside the TV.

"Good morning, mum. I have made you a cup of coffee, heated to a perfect 172 degrees Fahrenheit."

I peer over at the dirty mug sitting on the island. I am reminded of the last day I spent in this house before the bombs fell. It seemed like a normal morning. I sipped my coffee standing in this very spot.

I pick up the mug and peer down at the murky liquid floating in the glass. It vaguely smells of coffee, but the mug feels cool to the touch.

"I'm sorry mum. I tried to produce the perfect cup of coffee, but the coffee maker in the corner didn't have any electricity to run it. So I tried to use my flamer to heat the water, but I melted the pot."

"It's alright, Codsworth. We can get a new one." I tell him, touched by his attempt at normalcy.

"Maybe we could rig up a generator. Get some light in this hellhole." Gage says from behind me.

"Do you know where we can find one?" I ask, setting the mug back on the counter.

"Yes. I can patch one up with spare parts. Piece a cake."

"Oh, wonderful. Then I could finally produce a nice meal for you two. Though, it's a shame the hubby won't be here to enjoy it."

I am reminded of my dead husband locked down in the vault. My heart aches. Tears suddenly prick my eyes without any warning.

"I'll be back," I mutter and pass Gage, heading outside as my emotions grow stronger.

"Was it something I said?" I hear Codsworth say from within the house.

"You brought up her dead husband. So yeah, probably." Gage responds sarcastically.

I slowly wander down the street towards the roundabout, my hands in my pockets and my gaze on the ground. I step over the large cracks in the concrete, passing by dead bushes and weeds sticking out from them.

I close my eyes as a breeze picks up, blowing my hair back and out of my face, leaves swirling around at my feet. I sigh deeply. The air is cool. Winter is coming.

I can't help but think of my son. The pain I feel deep inside is met with pure, unbridled rage. I swoop down, grabbing a baseball bat from the ground beside my old neighbour's house. My hands tremble as my lips do. I scream, raising the hunk of wood high above my head. I slam it down against the hood of a rusty blue truck. Hunks of rust fly past me, landing on the street behind me. I continuously slam the bat against it, moving up to the windshield. The glass crumbles, denting inward.

I hear a loud buzz behind me. I turn around, spotting a massive fly heading my way. It shoots balls of goo out of its thorax. They hit my arm. I quickly wipe off the mess of maggots and eggs. I run towards the fly, whipping my baseball bat forward. It connects with the fly, its body erupting into a bloody mess. I keep swinging my bat, mashing its broken body into the pavement. I swing the bat too hard and the old wood snaps in half. I shout and whip the chunks through the air.

Suddenly not having a way to vent my anger leaves me feeling helpless. My arms flop defeatedly at my sides and I begin to cry.

A few moments later I feel a set of hands on my shoulders.

"Come on, boss. We gotta get moving. Let's go get cleaned up."

I don't say anything, just wipe my tears and follow him back to the house. I find Dogmeat on the couch, his head resting on his paws, concern in his eyes. I feel a tinge of guilt.

I sit beside him, the cushion sinking in under my weight. I pet his soft fur, sniffing loudly.

"You excited for a little journey?" I whisper, hoping to excite him and perk him up.

He doesn't lift his head, but his ears perk up.

"Come here, buddy," I say, patting my lap. He climbs to his feet, stepping forward and leaning against my chest, his paws on my thighs, his chin on my shoulder.

I reach around him to stroke his back and kiss his snout. "Let's go. And then maybe we can play fetch."

He whines excitedly and wags his tail.