Chapter 15 “You’ll wake the whole damn block!”

Burton practically ran up the last flight of stairs, bursting out into the cool night. He checked his weapon instinctively, and set off.

“These people need our help.” A rasping voice from the shadows made him spin and aim, finger on the trigger. Lit by a small flame he saw Suzette, lighting a cigarette. Except the flame didn’t flicker, it seemed to freeze like an oil painting. Then the darkened ruins lit up, and a targeting lattice appeared on Suzette.

Burton felt his muscles burn, pushing against the system his adrenaline kick started. Off! He screamed in his mind, and thankfully the night darkened again.

“Don’t fucking do that!” He yelled, the sound echoing in the ruins.

“Keep your voice down.” She forced a quiet response, her tone angry. And with good cause.

Debris clattered from an alley across the street. Something crept from the shadow, low and snarling. Fangs set in ragged flesh let out a growling bark as an emaciated hound lurched into a run. Three more at its sinewy heels.

Burton lost his grip on the system and felt it move him. Strafing to cover Suzette while letting rip precise bursts of fire that cut the hounds to shreds. Before he knew it, the magazine clattered to the ground. Replaced and reloaded, the bolt snapped forward. His hands operating with unearned knowledge.

As he watched for any movement, Suzette stepped closer, reaching for the carbine. He spun back, finding the space to aim right at her. “Don’t fucking do that!” He yelled again, his adrenaline surging.

“Quiet!” She glared at him, furious, but knowing better than to make even more noise. “Stay fucking quiet! You’ll wake the whole damn block!” Burton looked back confused, like he’d been asked to turn the music down. Then he understood.

Shuffling and guttural rasps began to spread through the ruined apartment buildings that surrounded them.

The noise seemed to pass like the wind. Until the sound of knocking began to echo from behind them. “We need to deal with that.” Suzette drew a blade, fashioned from a single arm of tailor's scissors. “Quietly. They’re no threat to us.”

The knocking drew them to a run down corner bar. Windows etched to opaque by the dust on the wind. Suzette crept to the door, easing it open. He followed, sweeping the room.

Skeletons in the booths, smashed glass strewn across the floor. A single feral ghoul, trapped behind the bar. “Call him over.” Suzette whispered.

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Burton stood at the end of the bar, knocking on the rotting wood. The wretched creature shuffled toward him. Suzette ducked under the bar hatch and smoothly pierced the base of the twice dead creature’s skull. She half caught the limp corpse as it fell, laying it down gently and kneeling by its head. Burton wondered why she lingered. Something glinted, wrapped around her hand.

“Do you want to say something?” She asked.

“I don’t believe in God.” Burton tried to convince himself, wishing he could’ve said something less callous. Somehow the idea of a vengeful, ruinous, God handing down cruel punishments and smiting cities began to feel sickeningly real.

“I was outside, you know, when the lake got hit.” She stared at him, like she’d stared that day. “I saw it Burton. Me and my husband. By the time we walked here, I’d watched him die. Slowly, in agony. Him and others. So many others.” Her voice broke as she became lost in the horror. She'd fought for her life while Burton drank expensive booze in five star comfort.

“He made me promise to get to the shelter, and when I did it was closed. So I laid down and waited to die. They brought me inside. Kept me alive. When the food ran low we went out. That's why we were chosen.” Suzette had a look of certainty. The look his mother had. “Doesn't matter if you don’t believe in him. He believes in you. Of all the people that he could have saved, he chose us. The engineer that built this place and the man who designed it. And here you are, running away.” She sounded heartbroken, hurt and betrayed.

“I’m not running away. I’m going to do something.” He wanted so desperately to stay, but knew what he had to do.

“What?” She asked, hope in her voice.

“Penance.” He let out a heavy sigh. “We can do something to help these people right now, but it means putting you in danger. It might be a year from now, it might be a century, but they’ll come.” Burton knew that enough information about Vault X survived out there. Sooner or later, powers would rise and seek more power. Then they’d come for him, the Vault, and anyone who knew about it. Never again. Never.

“Are you coming or what?” Suzette called back as she set off. Not knowing where to go, but ready to do whatever she could.

Burton seized every second of the clarity in his mind to think, to plan. He plotted routes and set up drop points with Suzette. Secluded, out of the way spots, with good cover and sight lines. They walked all night, reaching the tunnel to the Vault door just before dawn.

“You should watch the sun come up.” Suzette tried to get him to stay a little longer. You don’t deserve it. The voice in his head answered, and he headed down below.

The next few hours passed in a flurry of activity. Crate after crate of freeze dried food. Medical supplies. Heat exchangers to generate clean water. All of it hauled up by bots and stacked in the tunnel outside the door. It barely made a dent in the Vault supplies. The time had come to close the door and for Suzette to leave. Doing so with a pair of Assaultrons in tow. A stretcher gripped between them, laden with supplies.

“Are you absolutely certain about this?” She asked for the fifth time in the past hour.

“Yes.” He wondered if this was how insanity felt. To be utterly convinced by an idea others thought crazy. “The bots will make drops over the next month, keep these two for security. They’ve got bodyguard and combat protocols.” He ran through a checklist in his mind, there was nothing else. “You should go.” He turned to walk away, trying to make it a quick goodbye.

Burton kept his back to the Vault door as it screeched and rumbled back into place. He waited for things to fall silent. Then he got to work.