Chapter 34 “I’m going home.”

John couldn’t breathe. He felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. Of course Rosie left the Vault, he thought. Now she could be anywhere. She could be dead.

John took as deep a breath as he could, trying to find a reason to cling to hope. The jet black device they both wore had kept him alive, it must have done the same for her. Then why isn’t she here, that was the plan. The plan he’d broken first.

Desperate for air John made for the cave entrance, turning his back on the opened Vault door. “Hey wait!” Dutch yelled. John saw the child he knew in the face of the man.

“It’s ok, it’s safe.” He knew the jet black pipboy on Dutch’s arm made safe a relevant term. John guided his friend towards sunlight for the first time. Dutch staggered and stumbled as John had done, three months and a lifetime ago. “Easy does it. Sit down here.” Dutch sat and John left his hand on his shoulder. “Open your eyes.” Seeing the joy in a face he knew made the morning sun all the more beautiful.

As they sat peering out over the world John felt the tightness in his chest ease. The swirling thoughts of Rosie out there alone, of the elder’s betrayal and what that meant for him, threatened to overwhelm him. Until an idea began to take root.

“Call Rick. I need to talk to him.” John could have done it himself, well with range to connect to Vault network. He didn’t, he had to look Rick in the eye.

John heard the lift and turned. Rick strode forward without hesitation. Something looked different about him, he looked angry.

“Rick, it’s good to see you.” John stood tall as Rick looked him up and down, taking in the under armour and slung rifle. He couldn’t get a sense of what Rick thought. He seemed older, like the last three months in the Vault as the new Overseer had aged him. Finally he shook John’s hand, his grip too tight.

“You should have come to me John, from the beginning.”

“We didn’t know who to trust.” John trusted Rick to watch his back in the caves, Rosie must have felt some level of trust to make him Overseer.

“People died, John. In the riot, suicides. Level one is still in total lockdown.” John stared at his boots, unable to meet Rick's eyes. He reached up and put a hand on John’s shoulder. “It’s not on you.” John saw his old friend, and wanted to believe him

“Not all of it.” John, no longer the rock breaker, now a sworn knight, led Rick towards the air recirc parts he’d recovered. “They’re an exact match, should fit no problem.”

Rick’s well honed eye looked over the parts from the hell John had walked through. “Good, real good John, but people want out. I can’t keep them down there. I won’t.”

“I’ve got an idea. Things out here are complicated.” That felt like an understatement to John. “And dangerous. There are people out here that would kill everyone if they found this place. I need to talk to my friend. I’ll be back in twelve hours, but there’s something I need before I go.”

“Name it.” Rick softened and almost seemed proud of John for a moment.

“Spray paint, blue.” Rick smiled and headed back underground.

John sat next to Dutch still staring out over the old world. He dried his eyes and John bumped him with his shoulder. “Check your radio.” Dutch did and John heard a familiar voice

“Lady Luck is with you children, and so is old blue eyes. I got you children.” A song John knew came through crystal clear, thanks to him.

Dutch sat frozen, slack jawed and wide eyed. As if any sound or movement he made would stop the music. John saw the wonder in Dutch’s face but had to ask about the jet black pipboy, the one like his. As slowly and calmly as he could, John drew his rose carved pistol.

“Do you know what this is?” He realised right away Dutch didn’t. “There’s nothing in the back of your mind, like a whisper?”

“No, what is it? A drill or something?” John breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever the attacks had activated in his own device, in him, hadn’t happened to Dutch. Not yet anyway.

“So what have they had you doing?” John didn’t even know what level Dutch lived on.

“I’m a teacher.” John laughed, remembering Dutch tormenting teachers with his impressions. “It’s not that funny.”

“No, you’re right, I’m sure you’re a great teacher.” John saw Dutch look out over the world denied him. A world that his teaching had denied the existence of to others.

“Do you think they need teachers out there?” Dutch asked with a look of hope. John couldn’t answer, at best he’d be a target because of decisions John made. At worst because his friend would find out that everything he knew would be useless outside.

“I’m sure they do, but right now you’re the only person I trust to do something important.” John didn’t lie, he gave Dutch something to do that would help.

“Here.” Rick came to the edge. Used to the view, but still enthralled by it, as they all were. He handed John the paint, and something in a tightly sealed foil pack.

“Apples. Turns out we grow them here.” Rick looked sickened. John remembered the first apple he tried, the one Rosie stole.

“Thanks. I’ll be back in twelve hours. Keep the door shut.” John felt sick hearing those words. “For now.” John turned to leave.

“Where you going John?” Dutch asked, eager to hear something about the world.

“I’m going home.”

John waited till he heard the Vault door start to move. The metallic screech cutting through the words of his oath.

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He touched down at the Red Rocket and loaded up his gear. No sign of life for miles. He left a message for Rosie painted on the wall, then hid food and water with a decent pistol from his haul.

As the Vertibird crested the trees in the morning sun John got a view of the eight lane blacktop cutting through ruins and red canopy. He recognised the bridge, and The Grand, yet soon found himself above a dense and featureless forest. Home had to be nearby, he knew that, but even from the air he couldn’t make it out. John wondered how he could find one person out here if he couldn’t even find a settlement.

John followed a thin strip of water as low as he dared fly. He could practically hear Val laughing, so he dropped lower and went into a wide bank. The water stretched on, joined other curving lines, and became a river. The forest separated below the trees gave way to a wide gully. Rock walls forced apart by the shifting of the earth, leaving a wedge of flat ground, enclosing a small cascade of water into a pool.

John landed by the pool and the sparse clumps of trees. Instinct took over as he grabbed his light machine gun and perched in the cabin. The engines wound down until nothing but the sound of water remained.

John couldn’t remember the last time he did anything with the pipboy beyond sending a mapping pulse. He’d grown accustomed to ignoring that damn cartoon with its blinking arm pointing at error notifications and just tapping through. Scrolling back months through radio frequencies became frustrating quickly. The Brotherhood channels were all dead now, changed daily, which helped John find what he wanted.

“Robco’s Rest, This is Ro...John, How copy?” Static followed. “It’s John, is anybody there, over?”

“John, that you son?” Robco answered the radio and John threw back his head in relief.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m nearby but I don’t know where, there’s a gully and a small waterfall.”

“I know the place, it’s where I take Rusty for a walk, I’ll bring him.” Robco used the name of the Sentry Bot in the back of his truck as code. As he’d done to warn John about the Brotherhood before.

“We both know that lump of scrap isn’t walking anywhere.” He heard Robco laugh.

“Sit tight son.”

John straightened himself up, brushing down his under armour, trying to order his thoughts. He knew landing out of the way had been the right call, and sent the armour stand in cover. John walked to the edge of the flat ground. Sparse trees faded to give a view of the Greene river winding down, beneath a rusted bridge and off into the distance. From the north a path cut through the rock face, and John saw a figure coming through the pass.

“Well don’t we look sharp!” Robco looked the same as John remembered. Blue overalls, a fine leather coat like the one he’d lent to John, carrying an assault rifle that looked new.

“Hello Robco. It’s good to see you.” John felt his posture relax as he heard Robco’s voice. He wondered how he looked to the man that saved a frightened stranger on the road. John’s hair had grown, gotten thicker, his face less pale. And his eyes had seen much of this world.

“You look tired son. When was the last time you slept?” Robco poured fresh coffee from a flask into clean mugs.

“I don’t know, it’s been a few days.” John shifted uncomfortably, not knowing where to start.

“Spit it out John.” Robco’s flat and even tone cut through the noise in John’s mind.

“I don’t know if I should be here.” John relived the last few hours, the betrayal, the threat against him, and that Rosie had gone.

“If you want me to go, I understand. I’ve got caps and gear.” John wanted to see the home he’d imagined, almost as much as he wanted to see Rosie, but it meant putting them at risk.

“Do you remember what I told you when I saw you last?” Robco asked after a short pause.

“You told me that if I didn’t know what to do I should come home.” That night in Shadowtown seemed like three years ago, not three months.

“And that’s what you did. You got a right to live free John, despite what those tin can fascists think.” John made a note to look up the word Robco used later.

“The first sign of them and I’m in the wind, I promise.” John breathed deep and felt a weight lift.

“This bomb ain’t gonna go off is it?” Robco asked as he worked through the new information.

“No. It’s miles from here, and my friend Sara, she’s getting her uncle to collect it. He might have done it by now.” John saw something spark in Robco’s mind.

“The uncle, this is the ex-Brotherhood fella?” John nodded. “What’s he look like?”

“I never met him.”

“And Rosie, she about this tall, pretty, green eyes,” Robco turned the sleeve of his coat and showed John a recent row of stitching. “Quick with a knife?” John let his hope overtake reason, then reigned it back as Sara taught him, trying to think if he ever told Robco about Rosie’s eyes.

“That could be her. What happened?” John felt his heart start to quicken.

“Shit John, I’m pretty sure I scared her. I saw a girl in the market, and she that look you had, surprised by the everyday. I made a comment about nice weather for winter and she didn’t get it, so I tried to grab her arm, show her that I knew about that thing.”

“She cut you?” John felt frightened for them both.

“No, glanced right off. I left her the junk she wanted, and a note. Then went straight to Betsy, Lady Luck. She said Rosie showed up to do that thing you wanted with that radio stuff, with a man who said he was ex-Brotherhood.”

“Sara, she told me that her uncle had good intel on Vault X. It’s got to be her.” John couldn’t find a reason not to hope. “I need a courier.”

“No, you need rest.” Robco raised a hand to stop the protest. “I let you go running off before. I’m not doing it again. We can make Shadowtown by nightfall.”

“You’re right, but we can go tomorrow.” John let out a deep sigh. “Rosie can handle herself. I want to ask you about this place.”

After talking for a while John led Robco to where he’d landed. “What the hell! Is that a...”

“Vertibird.” John watched Robco inspect the pre-war flying machine. Running his hand along the shining bodywork. Inspecting the twin engines. Leaning into the open cabin and checking the secured miniguns on either side.

“You can fly this thing? Size of a damn truck.” Robco asked, starting to take measurements with retractable tape measure.

“Yeah, a friend taught me.” John tapped the device on his arm. “And you know, this helps.”

“Well now you’ve gotta stay. Wallace is gonna lose his damn mind.”

“Louisa, pick up.” Robco spoke into the radio, trying to reach his daughter by a marriage cut short. “Pick up, Lou.”

“Yeah Pops, you’re up early.” John had missed her voice.

“Listen, get Mike to move the truck, then have your girls sweep the yard.” Girls, John thought, picturing four Assaultrons sweeping. “Then send Junior to the Crag Pass.”

“Anything else?” Louisa had a sarcastic tone.

“Yeah, get breakfast started, and set an extra place.” Robco’s smile carried through the radio.

“How have things been here?” John asked, wanting to change the subject.

“Well, up and down. Ed passed, went in his sleep.” Robco clearly missed his friend of many years.

“I’m sorry.” John had enjoyed meeting the oldest person he’d ever seen.

“Yeah, had a good innings, died with his daughter at his side. We should all be so lucky.” Robco added just a dash of whiskey to their coffees. “Anne, his daughter, she’s really turned a corner. Did you meet her?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You will, but maybe don’t bring it up.” Robco let the advice sink in as he sipped his coffee. “Other than that, we been real busy. Honestly, I’m glad you’re here, I need the help.”

“Pop Pop? You out here?” A voice echoed from the rock walls as the small boy ambled down the Pass. Jeans and a t shirt, pistol holstered under his thin arm and a wolf like dog at his heels. Robco let out a sharp whistle, and the dog led the boy along. John crouched to greet the dog first, who seemed to recognise him, even through gloved hands he could feel the soft dark fur and warm breath.

“What are we—” John stood and turned. “John!” Wallace sprinted forward, throwing his short arms around John’s waist.

“Hello Wallace, it’s so good to see you.” He remembered the kindness the bright boy had shown him in their short time together.

“Oh man, you’re not going to believe what I did with that code!” The boy’s sharp mind had extracted a mere glimpse of the remote override code hidden in the pipboy. “Wait, what are you wearing?” Wallace puzzled over the connecting port on John’s forearm, working the spring loaded circular shape with his finger.

“Push that button.” He turned his arm to Wallace who clicked the button on the pipboy. A trademark whirring stomp sounded as the power armour lurched into view.

“Is that a T-60!” A canvas cloak covered the broad shoulder plates, but did little to disguise the brutal eight foot figure. Wallace ran right over to it, standing in its shadow without fear. John made a hand gesture and the man shaped machine removed its helmet and handed it to Wallace. “It stinks and I can’t see shit!” The small voice echoed from a helmet twice the size of the boy’s head.

“Yeah, sounds about right.” John took the helmet back, turning Wallace as he did. He froze.

“Does it fly?” Wallace whispered, as if noise might scare the Vertibird away.

“Yeah.” John almost said no, but thought it might be cruel. Wallace turned to his grandfather.

“Can we...fly?”

Sorry Valkyrie, John thought, as he prepared to break her rule about wastrel joyrides.