Chapter 31 “We don’t do this because it’s easy.”

John staggered from the Velo, still unsteady and nauseous thanks to the anti radiation iv bag strapped to his arm. Paul and Charlie waited for him. They walked either side of him, keeping a slow pace through the lush fields that surrounded Farmborough.

They made it to Beverley’s large, earthen walled home as the sun set. He knocked on the door, greeted by a face he knew. “You look like shit, Brother.” Crixus, John’s teammate, opened the door to the home he shared with his wife.

“Crix, good to see you Brother.” John hadn’t expected to see him, it came as a most welcome surprise.

Crixus helped him to the rooftop, the rain pattering on a tarpaulin raised on posts. John stretched out on a simple canvas bed. “Get some sleep, on your side.” Charlie checked his pupils again with a small torch, then hung a fresh iv bag. “Hard part’s over kiddo, this time tomorrow you’ll feel better.”

“Thanks.” John managed to force a smile that became a wince as he felt the cuts on his face pull tight.

“Don’t worry they’re clean cuts, should heal without a scar.” Charlie sat in a chair opposite him, took off her boots, and got comfortable.

John woke to the afternoon sun and the clack of wood hitting wood. “Better. Again.” He heard Crixus, instructing someone in the garden. He got to his feet and peered over the wall. Rosie unleashed rapid, flourishing strikes with her wooden sword. All rebuffed by Crixus. “It’s not about looking pretty.”

“It’s about getting the job done.” John called down, remembering the lesson well.

“Exactly right Brother.” Crixus called back. “How you feeling?”

“Hungry.” John’s answer brought a laugh he hadn’t heard in quite a while.

“Go on down, we’ll be in as soon as this one learns to plant her feet.” Crixus took up his stance again. Rosie smiled up at him. John could see her relief. He glanced to his left so she could see, knowing how Crixus punished a distracted student.

John hobbled down the wooden stairs set in the wall, taking stock of his injuries. The cuts on his arm and chest hurt. The ones down the side of his face itched. His skin felt chafed and raw.

A smell hit him as he stepped into the kitchen, sharp and unpleasant. Beverly stood with her back to him, doing something at the sink. She turned as he came in. “Staying in bed till gone noon.” She shook her head as if disappointed. “What would Sara say.”

“Please don’t tell her.” He half joked as he sat on the long table. “Thanks for putting us up, sorry for the trouble.”

“Oh it’s no trouble.” She walked over and put a bowl of green mush in front of him, the source of the foul odour. “Place is too big for just me and Frank.”

“You don’t have any…” John tried to find the right word for freed people who had need for a safe place. “Guests?”

“Nope.” Beverly’s face lit up, pleased to have helped others.

“That's good because I need your help.” John looked her in the eye, so much depended on her answer.

“This first.” She pushed the foul smelling mush in front him. John took a deep breath and lifted a spoonful to his mouth. To his relief, Beverly stopped him. “It’s a poultice for your cuts, tilt your head back.”

John sat with his head back as Beverly spooned the foul paste along his face. The paste stuck a mesh of leaves to his cheek, which Beverly then pressed on till he yelped.

Crixus and Rosie came in, unwrapping their hand straps, knuckles bloodied. John found himself jealous of the workout. Rosie sniffed at the empty bowl, before Crixus took it and spread the remnants on his cuts. Rosie did the same.

“Now,” Beverly sat next to her husband. “You said you needed my help?”

“The people in the Vault…” John trailed off, giving Rosie a chance to leave. She didn’t, although he saw how even the word made her uncomfortable. “Some of them want to leave. I’m going to help get them out a few at a time. I’ve found a spot where I can build a place for them. Teach them, ease them into this world.” John felt Rosie take his hand. Her own introduction to this world but anything but easy.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“The only way this works is if we can keep people moving. Lady Luck and her contacts are going to help find places for some of them. I’m hoping you can do the same.” John waited for her answer.

“How many people are we talking about?” Beverly asked, her tone unsure.

“Over a thousand.” John didn’t shy away from the reality of the task ahead. “I figure ten a week for the next two years.” John tried to get a read on Beverly but couldn’t. Crixus however beamed with pride in his friend and student. All four round the table knew how it felt to be enslaved, one way or another. And each knew that true freedom had to be taken.

“They’re tough people, hard workers. If I can give them a chance I know they’ll make it work.” John knew all they needed was a hand.

“We don’t do this because it’s easy.” Beverly looked to her husband.

“We do it because someone did it for us.” Crixus looked pained. The man that freed him, that made him the soldier he’d become, was that same man that betrayed John.

“Where do we start?” Beverly smiled, briefly.

“I’m going to work through the winter, start bringing them out in the spring.” John knew giving everyone time to prepare would help. “In the meantime, do you want to visit?” He had to ask Beverly for her help first, before she saw for herself.

John spent the next few days resting. He met with a dozen of Beverly’s contacts. Traders, farmers, builders, barkeeps. Anyone who had need of workers. And would treat them right. He began to lay the foundation of the cover story. Keeping things vague, at Rosie’s suggestion.

A settlement beyond the Red Valley had begun to collapse, not a difficult lie to sell. John had done business with them from time to time and was helping for a fee. That’d had been Rosie’s suggestion too, another lie easily sold. He threw in whatever he could to help. Water pumps, ploughs, weapons, and favours to be named later.

While John rested, Rosie trained. Nearly every minute of daylight passed to the sound of carved wooden swords clacking. Interspersed with the occasional outburst of cursing from Rosie.

Back in their civilian clothes, John and Rosie said goodbye and set off into the night. They walked out of sight of the town, following the trodden paths, until Rosie cut into a field. She found a clearing and sat. John did the same, lying back and staring up at the stars.

“Velo’s on the way.” Rosie lay down by him, the Velo on auto pilot. “You can fly us back if you want.”

“Maybe next time.” John didn’t feel like waking the new features unlocked on the pipboy.

“I really enjoyed our trip.” Rosie said, bringing laughter from John. “I mean, apart from...” She looked at his cuts.

“I’m fine.” John felt well enough, the cuts on his face were healing already.

“I know.” Rosie gently touched his face, checking the cuts to reassure herself.

A quick flight brought them south of home. Rosie landed in the craggy pass, Janey dropping from the Velo first. John couldn’t resist taking a look around. There was a lot to do, still he knew it could be done.

They waved to Anne in the watchtower above the gate, entering Robco’s Rest. Lights were on in all the houses but theirs. “I am detecting five of my sister units.” The light in the centre of the robot head blinked rapidly. “And a mark two Sentry bot at fifty eight percent combat efficiency.”

“We’ll get into it later Janey.” Rosie opened the door and dumped the gear bags. Keeping the blanket wrapped swords slung over her shoulder. “Can you light the fire please?”

“Of course.” Janey stepped inside, firing a thin, near invisible beam into the fireplace. The logs caught light almost immediately, starting to drive out the cold.

Music and voices came from next door. John and Rosie found Robco sat by his firepit. Louisa, his daughter by marriage, across from him. Her son Wallace tinkering at his bench.

“The wanderers return.” Robco’s voice instantly made John smile. “And they’ve brought a lovely lady with them.”

“Good evening. My designation is Janey, I’m a real bitch.” Janey’s greeting brought amusement from round the fire.

“Ain’t she a pistol!” Robco shook his head and threw back his drink.

“Is this the Dominator class?” Wallace asked, transfixed with the upgraded model.

“You must be Wallace.” Janey tilted her head down. “Admin Rosie informs me that you are highly skilled.” Wallace looked very pleased with that.

“What do you make of this Janey?” Rosie took a piece of wallpaper from the boy’s bench. The plain side covered with code, laser etched by another Assaultron.

“A highly efficient process.” Janey scanned the paper.

“That means she likes it.” Rosie half whispered to Wallace as Janey ripped a piece from the roll on the bench. Faint traces of smoke came off the paper as Janey held it. She turned the paper round to reveal a picture of a stag, created with line after perfectly plotted line.

“She likes stags too.” Rosie handed Wallace the picture, and he pinned it next to his own drawings.

“Did anything else happen on your trip?” Louisa asked with a knowing grin. Both her and Robco not drawing attention to John’s face.

“John asked me to marry him.” Rosie twisted the silver ring round to show the green gem. “And I said yes.”

Louisa’s eyes filled with tears. Robco nearly leapt from his seat, despite his bandaged leg. “I’m so happy for you both.” Louisa hugged her tight.

“We can have the wedding here, do it up right!” Robco started planning immediately. “What am I thinking, Junior run and get the good whisky."

Wallace returned with the good whisky, handing out the cups as Robco filled them. He held the tin cup high. “To John and Rosie, may your troubles be few and your years together be many. Cheers!” They all toasted, enjoying the warmth of good whisky and better friends.