Some Consequences

Ruven Allen's pov

Normally I have a talent for loosing the lips of a woman when I talk to them. Both upper and lower lips in fact, but Amata was one tight cookie. We were exiting out of the sinkhole through a dilapidated house whose basement collapsed into the caves. She didn't say a word until I ripped the chains off the door and sunlight shone down on us.

"So where are you going now?" She asked.

"Diamond City. The biggest settlement in the Commonwealth."

"Care if I tag along?"

"No problem here. I know a place not far from here that I cleared of Raiders some time back."

"Think the Enclave are still after you?"

I shook my head as we headed south east. "No, I think we won't need to worry about them for now. Keep your head on a swivel though." The day was hot but not too bad considering. However, every day is a good day to kill something and if it wasn't for this Amata woman I would have wanted the Enclave after me.

They wrecked my home, killed my people, and I wanted them to pay.

"Don't rely on the hate to drive you."

I glanced in the direction of the voice and my eyes landed on my companion.

"Excuse me?"

"Using hate for fuel all the time will turn you into a pessimistic loner no good to anyone."

"Isn't that what you are doing? Hunting and Enclave with extreme prejudice?"

"No," she sassed, "I'm hunting and killing the Enclave while helping out along the way. Playing it smart as I can as well."

"Dare I ask why the crusade?"

She just gave me a look with an arched brow before sighing.

"Susie Mack. Girl was tough as nails when it came to high school bullies but Enclave have several ways of melting or breaking nails. She was sent out scavenging after we opened our vault. We had just got out of two hundred years of isolationism and it wasn't even two years and the Enclave found us."

"So you and your father escaped?"

She scowled and said, "You're trying to take one piece of a puzzle and make a whole picture, mister."

"Sorry, sorry," I said, "you asked if the Enclave was following me; so is your father's killer following you?"

"After the Lyon Elder's died, yeah."

"The who?"

"The Brotherhood elders that spearheaded Project Purity. My… friend was there. They are err, were esteemed heroes. The Enclave attacked and we radioed for help. What else were we supposed to do? My friend pulled some strings and the Elder came herself with her Pride." She was silent for a while, and added once we walked farther, "The Capital Wasteland was being struck by a plague never seen before at the time. Right when we got Aqua Pura, clean water, even ghouls caught the disease."

"Amata," I interrupted, "you're zoning out."

"Yeah!" She cleared her throat, and added, "Can't get mopey when we gotta pay attention."

"You're not carrying the disease are you?" I play made a cross with my fingers and held it out like a ward against evil.

"Har-har, very funny. Where are we going?"

I pointed.

"That building is Joe Slocum's Corporate HQ. Big coffee and donut chain like *Donuts' Dunkin'."

"Surprised, we haven't been attacked or seen anything."

"Minutemen are keeping an eye on the Super Mutants in the east of Malden."

"Your men seem to be doing well."

"They may have some bulletproof coats."

"Now you're lying."

"But it's a trade secret where we get them from."

Getting closer to the building I couldn't help but feel eyes on me. I usually peer back from time to time but this time I strained my eyes to be sure. I saw a mirage next to a petrified husk of a tree and it didn't seem to move.

Never seen one of those before.

We entered the HQ, the floor was swept, and the building was silent. Glancing back I eyed the mirage as Amata closed the door behind her. Shrugging it off, I kept walking towards the stash of Chem's and supplies I had hidden here.

"Nice little spot to set up."

"They certainly changed the place since the last time I was here."

It was when we reached a small camp with three bedrolls a bluejay called outside. I haven't heard bluejays in a while. The room was lit only with the light on the ceiling.

"Go ahead, make yourself at home." I said, "I need to get something from an office."

I walked over to where my stash was, pushed away a bookcase and revealed a fridge and safe concealed in the mortar. Opening it I got my usual Buffats, Psycho Jets, some regular Jet, Stims and a whiskey. Pressing a button, the pressure equalized in my helmet with a hiss before I removed it.

"There's no food or water over here. Who would make a camp with no food or water nearby? And before you ask, yes; I checked all the possible hiding places."

"Some things, don't need food or water." I bit out, taking a long gulp of my Jack.

"Everything needs food and water."

"Not everything." I added matter-of-factly as I popped a Buffat in my mouth. Putting an empty bottle of Jack down, I walked to a closet and twisted the knob on my radio to an old signal that I checked up on every so often.

Beeping came in reply.

Bones, dust and Minuteman gear laid in the floor of the closet.

I knew it.

Popping my neck, I took the needle of my psychojet and jabbed it into my neck with a grimace. I jammed my helmet back onto my head, pulled out Spray n' Pray and controlled my pace. In a hushed voice I tried to tell Amata to get ready but then the light cut off.

Flicking on the red lights in my XO-1's eyes, I saw Amata on the ground with a crunch. It was in Jet powered slow motion as the silolette threw a punch at me after slamming Amata. Catching the fist, I was pushed back a few inches, my other hand holding the SMG like a pistol and I hip fired into the enemy. I had fought these things before, the most skilled and ruthless enemies in the wastes. They weren't man, nor animal, but pure killing machine.

Sparks and blood from the mini explosions reduced the robot into a twitching husk. I knew better however. Picking it up by the throat I growled, "It's been two bloody centuries since a bluejay cawed."

"I'm surprised," the courser gurgled, his voice staticky but monotonous, a spark erupting from his chest, "you knew we were here all along didn't you?"

"Where are the others?" I spat, it's true that I knew that "mirage" wasn't natural, so I suspected something was up. "Quit stalling."

"Did you seriously think," I squeezed harder, but the robot continued, "that destroying the Institute wouldn't bring consequences?"

There was a blur in my peripheral vision and I twirled, tossing the courser into his ally. They smashed into each other, heat and blue light erupted from my back as I turned and spayed towards the laser targeting my fusion core. I was shot again in the back by the fleeing duo as my bullets tore into their coats and skin with little sign or effect.

It was deathly quiet for a moment and I snorted in disdain. Once sure I was safe, I went into the hall for the breaker; gun in hand. Kicking the power back on I turned off the flashlights in my helmet and took it off again.

My heart raced from the attack, my radio was silent on the coursers' signals so they were long gone. I returned to Amata and assessed the damage. She was unconscious, and coughing blood. Pulling up gently, several splinters were in her from being embedded into the floor. Judging from the dent in her back after I rolled her over, the courser hit her in her kidneys like an ape and slammed her into the floor all in a second. Taking a med-x from my stash, I jabbed it and a Stimpak into the damaged area.

With a start, Amata twitched and vomited blood onto the floor. A sign of internal bleeding and ruptured organs. She screamed through grit teeth and managed, "Did they run?"

"Coursers never run," I answered, "they only tactically retreat." I added professionally, "Expect blood in the urine and stool for a few months. Are you suffering from abdominal pain?"

"What the hell does that mean?!"

"Expect to be pissing and crapping blood to be the new normal for the rest of the year, woman. Now are you suffering from abdominal pain or not?"

She grimaced, "Y-yes." She tilted her body and looked into my face saying, "You know, I think that's the first time I saw your face."

I smirked, combing my sweaty helmet hair to the side with my hand, "We're even."

***