Deuces Are Wild

5

On down the road she played the tape again on a beat up Pip-Boy. It was that rock music. It was jazzy, but blues-y. By the third song MacCready had to ask.

"Who are these guys?" he pointed at the wrist mounted device.

Turning around she walked backwards while she spoke. "I couldn't make out much info. Some 21st century band I think Ah Eh Ro...smith?"

He smiled. "You'd better watch where you're going."

As though on cue she stumbled but regained her balance before heeding his advice and walking correctly. He laughed quietly, his shoulders shaking. "If you hadn't guessed from the direction we're going, we're going to Diamond City. I'm going to ask the DJ there if he knows anything about this tape."

Hurrying his steps he matched her pace, walking side by side rather than a few paces behind. "What tape?"

"The arrow-whatchallit...tape- the music!"

A visit to the largest settlement in the Commonwealth might be a nice change of pace. On the other hand the guards weren't too thrilled to see them. MacCready paid no heed to their reproachful comments to keep his gun away, only scoffing. But the open threats to throw Zelling feet over shoulders into lockup was not lost on them.

"What's their problem?" He muttered to her around an unlit cigarette. "They're not fond of your tin can wearing friends?"

She made no reply but he soon found out. At every store Zelling was to remain with her hands where they could be seen at all times. Pickpocket, eh? Well MacCready couldn't fault someone for that. He had put his small size to use before nicking a few caps here, a box of Blamco Mac and Cheese there. It wasn't a malicious thing. Times just got lean. He didn't resort to it anymore, it was bad for business. Watching a few passersby made him wonder if he even had quick fingers anymore.

How a thief got into the ranks of the prestigious Brotherhood of Steel was a mystery to MacCready. This line of thought dredged up an old memory, a recollection ten years past where he had looked down upon a mungo in a blue jumpsuit. Mungo. That was what the children of Little Lamplight called adults. That mungo would become the famous Vault Dweller, and he'd fought alongside the Brotherhood before disappearing into legend. What madness had made him leave the safety of Vault 101 to try his luck against the wasteland. Then MacCready remembered he'd been looking for his father. What was Zelling looking for, that she would join the Brotherhood of Steel, compromise her morals and sense of self, have orders barked at her all day and have to rise before the sun. Had she not said anything about her affiliation he would have never guessed.

Eventually they made their way to the Dugout Inn. It was a decent place to crash after a long trip and MacCready wanted to drop in on some old friends.
"Welcome!" grinned Vadim Borobov and his eyes went wide as recognition swept his face. "MacCready!" He held out his hands then charged around the bar and before MacCready could protest the other man's arms were around him in a bone crushing hug.

"Hey Vadim!" he managed to croak before Vadim set him down.

"Sorry, my friend. It's been long time. Come, have drink." and here he clapped him on the back so hard MacCready grunted. "On house."

Looking over his head Vadim spotted Zelling. "Who is tiny girl?"

"That's Zelling. I work for her at the moment."

Upon hearing her name, she turned to look at them, eyebrows raised. Raising a hand to chest level she wiggled her fingers at Vadim in greeting.

"Drink for her, too, then." Vadim said, rounding the counter. "Half price." He barked a laugh. "I joke. Also free."

MacCready joined Zelling at the bar watching Vadim set out two shot glasses and topping them off with a liquid that looked like the water in an old toilet and smelled like paint thinner. Zelling wrinkled her nose. "I hope it tastes better than it smells."

"It's Borobov's Best Moonshine. Try! Smooth, with a kick. Put fire in belly." Picking up a rag he gave the counter a quick wipe down. "How long you been in Commonwealth?"

Draping his fingers over the shot glass MacCready braced himself for the shot, psyching himself up as though he were about to have a bullet carved out of his side. Now he was just stalling.
"Not long." He replied vaguely then downed the moonshine.

This brief answer seemed to concern Vadim but he did not press. "Where is Lucy? Out shopping. Eh? I never get tired of her beautiful face. I'll open new wine for her."

The forlorn expression on MacCready's face gave him pause. The smile slipped off.

"She didn't make it, Vadim."

Vadim leaned closer. "Not sure how great big foot fits in mouth. I'm so sorry, MacCready."

"It's alright. You didn't know."

"What happened?"
As though sensing his pal needed some of the good old 'help me forget' juice, Vadim poured MacCready another drink. Folding his arms on the counter MacCready saw Zelling out of the corner of his eye giving him a look of sympathy before casting her eyes downward.
"Ferals." he answered laconically, pouring the liquid fire down his throat.

"If there's anything you need, just say so."Vadim said quietly. MacCready gave him a subtle nod and Vadim turned the cheer right back on. "You stay a while?

They both turned to see Zelling cough violently. Vadim shrugged apologetically. Turning he bellowed
"Yefim. YEFIM."

The more taciturn Borobov appeared. "What now?"

"We have available room?" He gestured to Zelling who by now was sweating profusely.

Yefim frowned. Well frowned more he was almost always frowning anyway. With a brother like Vadim MacCready reasoned he would probably frown a lot too.
"How many has she had?"

"That was her first one." MacCready supplied. The two brothers exchanged a look that MacCready interpreted as 'you thoughtless idiot' and profound apology.

Now people were beginning to stare. Vadim effortlessly scooped up Zelling into his arms and carried her into Room 2 while Yefim set a bucket on the floor beside the bed.

I'm not much of a drinker, she had said. The three men kept a weather eye on the open door to room 2, one of them periodically making sure Zelling was on her side for when the inevitable vomiting came.

MacCready stumbled into the room during one of these checks and judging from the smell at some point she had awakened and quietly vomited into the bucket. Now she was sleeping peacefully curled into a compact ball. In his drunken haze the sight of her brought to mind the image of a kitten sleeping. She was even small and ungainly like a kitten in its awkward all legs and ears phase. He remembered with some satisfaction when she threatened the Raiders, imagining a cat watching its prey with yellow eyes. Sinking deeply into a chair he sighed and glanced over at the sleeping woman again.

She had stripped off most of her clothing apart from an old pair of what appeared to be men's shorts and a ratty stained white tank top in stark contrast to her coppery skin. So many scars, he thought. Where she had been often covered from neck to to feet in protective gear, MacCready saw the extend of her scarring. Not only had she been cursed with perhaps not the prettiest face, cruel hands had scarred that face with its honey colored eyes that lit up at the sight of anything that pleased her.
The image of a stray kitten came to mind again. Cast out, unwanted. Cute, at least. Probably didn't bother or know how to fix herself up. He wasn't exactly all that handsome either no matter what Lucy said.
Zelling would never be any serious competition for Lucy, for Lucy had been singularly stunning. But Lucy of course, was gone. Sometimes he wondered what she saw in him. Every now and then he'd look at her and nearly burst with pride. He hoped Duncan would be exactly like her- smart, funny, kind with her eyes and hair and his... last name.

I should have gone back. What if I had gone back. The questions spun in his head again. Then all of them would have been killed. He would have had to see Lucy mangled and torn, Duncan's scream would be the last sound he ever heard before he himself was overwhelmed.

He did the right thing, he told himself. These hypothetical situations were still too monstrous to think about. Without even thinking he stumbled onto the other side of the bed and laid down his back to Zelling, slipping into an exhausted- and thankfully dreamless- sleep.