The Streets of Boston - Chapter 7: Salvation?

  • October 26, 2287

    Everyone is hungry. We lost most of our supplies in Lexington and so far it seems our little mousetrap isn’t well stocked. And let me tell you hungry, traumatized people make for a lot of dispute.

    If it weren’t for my honour as a minutemen, I would have shot Marcy.

    I understand her reticence towards Mama Murphy’s “abilities”, and that she is angry about the loss of her son. But damn that woman is angry, all, the, time. By now it has even started to affect Preston and Sturges.

    This morning she went into a frenzy about how Mama Murphy’s “sight” brought us to our doom. She blamed the gunners on the old junkie as well as the ghouls, the raiders and now even the deathclaw and was ready to start hitting the old madwoman when her husband of all people, I seriously thought he had lost all capacity to reason, jumped in between them and took the side of the old witch. Preston and Sturges quickly jumped in before it got bloody but I was afraid we were going to lose them to infighting.

    After all we went through to get them out of harm’s way I wasn’t going to allow that.

    Even Preston was surprised when I took action. Should’ve shot a blank, at least there wouldn’t have been yet another hole in the ceiling. It’s not like the bloody building could handle any more, not with that goddamn vertibird in the roof. After I brought back the peace, I ordered them all to sit apart, let them stew in their stupidity for a while.

    I brought them back together for dinner, nothing more than the last rations of salisbury steak we nicked from the super duper market in Lexington before everything went to shit. Marcy had proposed we eat the dog, but none of us had accepted. Even in the apocalypse killing dogs was something you would tend to avoid. At least they were all silent. Couldn’t have hoped for anything better.

    The Deathclaw came back a few times. Her eyes peeked through the holes in the door quite a few times. She is inspecting us, waiting for weaknesses, and after today she knew she would just have to wait till we would kill each other. Smart creatures those deathclaws.

    Captain Eric Asher, signing off.

    October 27, 2287

    Well our situation definitively changed, but so far I’m’ not sure if it’s for the better yet. This place was formidable, well stocked, well defended and it came with a vault to boot. But I never trusted people with power who didn’t use it for good. And so far these knights don’t seem to fill in that role. But who knows perhaps I’ll change my opinion once one of them decides to honour me with revealing their bloody faces!

    Earlier today, a collection of hellish noises came from outside the museum, woke us all up in actual fact. Lasers and explosions, someone was fighting the Deathclaw. Once the sounds of battle faded Concord went silent again.

    I won’t lie, I was somewhat relieved when they knocked on the door and the long awaited question ensued: “Anyone alive in here? You’re safe now”.

    I ordered Murphy and the Longs to clear the barricade while the others and me kept watch, the barrels of our guns aimed at the door. For all we knew it were more raiders. Imagine our surprise when we found out it were two heavily armed soldiers clad in blue and yellow power armour, and not just low quality sets like the T45 on the roof but two full sets of T60. These guys were meaning business.

    They asked us to come with them, to safety. They were of few words but at least they had the dignity of answering me when I demanded to know their names. They said they were part of a group called the golden pride.

    They escorted us in a short journey north of town, and we passed the corpse of the deathclaw. It had been scorched. Laserfire. And it’s leg had been blown off when one of the old pre-war cars had exploded. Our “Saviors” remained silent as we climbed the hill towards an abandoned red rocket station.

    Despite the fact that we had adopted our escort’s vow of silence, I saw Sturges’ eyes lit up. He had found himself a new home.

    Later it was my turn to be happily surprised when of all places we passed the old north bridge and the monument to the first minutemen. Preston was positively glowing as well. The first shots of the american revolution had been fired here. And while Preston and I would have loved to revel in the glory of this beautiful location, our guides went on, without a word.

    We eventually crossed through an old neighbourhood, Sanctuary Hills I believe the sign at the entrance said. It was quite a nice position for a fort. And for the space of a moment I lost myself in the possibilities the place had to offer; a narrow bridge being the only perceivable passage over the lake, a pre established main road and lots of houses to break down for scrap…

    But those dreams shattered when Preston, bumped against me and hinted at the grey coloss standing a lonely vigil on a nearby hill. Our destination.

    The walls were grey and sterile, but seemingly new, a mix of concrete and steel. Quite the basic military set up and if not for the blue and golden flag that hung above it I could have mistaken it for a very fancy Gunner’s outpost. But once we were inside, the sight became a lot more welcoming. Several shacks had been set up around a strange blue plaza on top of the hill, closer inspection revealed it to be an elevator into a pre war Vault. And a few modest patches of crops, mostly tatos, gourds and silt beans were scattered about. These people, whoever they were, were doing good for themselves. A suspicion that was only confirmed when I noticed the pipes and the electric lines leading down to the lake: they had purified water, a luxury few in the commonwealth had. I wondered how they had managed to,as far as I knew only a few people in the commonwealth knew how to build a purifier and then again most had been reverse-engineered from designs left behind by the institute after they left the provisional government. These guys had some serious tech between the power armour and the water. What did they plan on doing with it?

    They escorted us to a small metallic shack, it looked like it had been made out of a pre war structure to which they had hastily clad some metal boards to sturdy it up a bit. And then they told us to wait.

    The worst part of this day is that after the vault dweller left I was relieved that at least Mama Murphy couldn’t have been right when she claimed the sight had told her we would be saved by blue and gold…

    Captain Eric Asher, signing off.


11 Comments   |   SpookyBorn2021 likes this.
  • Karver the Lorc
    Karver the Lorc   ·  June 5, 2016
    Huh, Golden Pride. I wonder who these guys are? 111 Dwellers that survived the hybernation? Interesting
  • Teineeva
    Teineeva   ·  April 19, 2016
    And you haven't even met Simon yet...
    Also, revenge is sweet, I had the exact same reaction when I read your last chapter
  • Exuro
    Exuro   ·  April 19, 2016
    Just jumped into the middle of this. Damnit Teineeva! Now I have another story on my queue.
    I was liking the Death Claw, then you killed it, but I'm glad the dog is still alive
  • Teineeva
    Teineeva   ·  April 18, 2016
    Well technically, the power armour is blue and yellow. So guess what paint job it is supposed to be?
    However as soon as their faction grows bigger, I'll definitively have them change it to gold, that would be magnificent!
  • Sindeed
    Sindeed   ·  April 18, 2016
    I totally need a Power Armor Blue & Gold retexture mod now.
  • Sotek
    Sotek   ·  April 18, 2016
    Stew in their stupidity, I like it...
  • Lyall
    Lyall   ·  April 18, 2016
    Yay! I don't comment very much on these, but I really like them. Also, I know that jump for joy. If I ever come back to Mail: 50 New Messages, I'd think I died and went to heaven. (As long as it's not tele-marketers )
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  April 18, 2016
    Woohoo! Very interested to see where this goes. I like Asher. And I like that as of now, they've not killed the dog. 
  • The Wing
    The Wing   ·  April 18, 2016
    The Sight never lies...
  • Teineeva
    Teineeva   ·  April 17, 2016
    As long as I keep having this tiny jump of joy whenever I get a mail about someone commenting or generally apreciating my stuff I'll keep them coming  (even without that, as long as I enjoy writing this story, and have enough ispiration to do so, it will ...  more