FO4 | Book 1: Bombs on Monday Morning ✔️

Ch 17: He's a Demon, a Devil, a Doll

After spending some time on the artillery with Preston and the other Minutemen, I left the rest of the work to them. I didn't want to waste any more time. The Castle was secure and the others could take it from here while I left for the Glowing Sea.

As MacCready and I got our things together to head out, he spoke to me for the first time since that morning.

"Hey, listen..." He rubbed his neck and looked at the ground beneath his feet. "I'm sorry about last night. It was a mistake."

We walked through the courtyard and toward the hole in the wall, facing the demolished city of Lexington.

"Do you remember everything I said last night?" he then asked.

"I remember some of it. You asked me for a favor. Something about the Gunners."

"I meant what I said. I do trust you. And you've been straight with me so far. I just wanted to know... if you still wanted to go for it."

"I don't know..."

He didn't say anything, but his eyes pleaded to me. I knew I didn't have any money to pay him for everything he has done for me so far, and I owed him a lot at this point. Maybe this was the least I could do for him.

"Okay. I wouldn't mind shooting up some Gunner territory." I gave him a light-hearted smirk, knowing I only gave him a half-truth. Under other circumstances, I wouldn't have minded as much, but I needed to find Shaun.

Just one more loose end to tie up, Shaun. Please be patient...

"Finally, something exciting for a change," MacCready jested, peppier than before. "I'm ready to put this fort behind me."

____________________

The Mass Pike Interchange was a raised traffic bridge high above the ground. It was broken off on some areas, but the parts that were still sturdy and intact were occupied by the dangerous group of mercenaries known as the Gunners.

We had taken a rickety makeshift lift up to the broken highway about sixty feet above our heads. On the Gunners' side was an Assaultron, Mark III turrets, a suit of patchwork Power Armor, and at least ten guys, including Winlock and Barnes.

It didn't matter what they had; we killed them all. My Power Armor soaked up a lot of the damage, and MacCready's sniping skills was on point as he used me for cover. 

On the surface, I knew that pieces of shit like the Gunners deserved to die. They were no different than people like Kellogg, killing for money. It didn't matter if their contract was a man, a woman, a child, an animal, a mutant, a ghoul, or some other Wasteland monster.

But the more I killed, the more tainted I became. I wondered what Shaun would think of me if he knew what I had become, what I had to do to reach him. Would he be scared of me? Would he hate me?

As I stood on the edge of the bridge and looked out at the Wasteland below with my own eyes, not through my high-tech Power Armor helmet, MacCready laid a blood-smeared hand on my shoulder and shook me out of my revere. I attempted to wjipe some of the blood off of my new Minutemen General suit.

"Ready to loot?" he asked, still catching his breath.

"Yeah."

We looted everything worth grabbing. Chems, water, food, ammo, and I bagged some rare scrap for Sturges. MacCready bagged the extra guns to sell. Admittedly, my bag would be easier to carry once I got back into my Power Armor. That tin can was beyond useful.

"Well, that should send the Gunners a message to stay off my back," MacCready taunted at the bodies surrounding us as he dusted off his hands. He took a few steps toward the edge of the bridge and lit a cigarette as it was almost dark.