Fallout 4: AR

3. Goodneighbor

Inside the gate, the first thing that struck me was the open courtyard. Some effort had been made to clean up the front entrance, and the concrete was reasonably open and free of debris. Next were the two small shopfronts, neon signs flickering over the open doorways. "Guns Guns Guns," one sign declared. "Daisy's Discounts," announced the other. To the left, a white-clad doorway fronted an historic building, red brick sturdily rising up three stories. A few people lounged about, and I noticed they were staring at me. I took a few tentative steps towards the curving low stone wall in the center of the open area. One of the men lounging in front of the gun shop approached me.

"Hold up there. First time in Goodneighbor?" His voice was low, almost coaxing, the slight grin on his scarred face not entirely friendly, but not outright hostile either. He was wearing an age-darkened leather jacket and thick leather pants. I nodded, not wanting to cause a scene. "Can't go walking around without insurance." At this, he stepped closer, looming. His tone had shifted, becoming less friendly and more threatening. I backed up, wanting to keep some distance. My heart started to pound, and my mouth went dry. No one else moved or even reacted.

"What?" I asked intelligently, my voice cracking a bit.

"Insurance. Personal protection." His grin widened and he casually took a drag from the lit cigarette in his hand. "You hand over everything you got in them pockets, or 'accidents' start happenin' to ya. Big, bloody, 'accidents.'"

I froze. I couldn't help it. This man was taller and stronger, and had just threatened me. For the second time today, I was in danger of my life.

"Whoa whoa. Time out," called a man's raspy voice from farther back. A shorter, slender figure emerged from the shadows between the shops and the historical building. He stalked into the light of the courtyard with a lithe, dangerous grace. I couldn't help but notice the revolutionary period red jacket and black tri-corner hat. "Someone steps through the gate the first time, they're a guest. You lay off that extortion crap."

The leather-clad man tossed away his cigarette and turned to face this new arrival. "What do you care? She ain't one of us," he growled.

"No love for your mayor, Finn? I said, let her go." The rasp in the mayor's voice was steely, uncompromising and commanding. His face, indeed the entirety of his body that I could see was covered in scars, ridges of flesh that looked like he had been horribly burned at some time in the past. I clung to the hope of his words. "Let her go." Please, just let me go.

Finn was not to be dissuaded, apparently. "You're soft, Hancock. You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there'll be a new mayor."

Hancock closed the gap between them. "Come on, man. This is me we're talking about. Let me tell you something."

Before I could even blink, Hancock had whipped out a large knife and stabbed Finn twice in the belly and chest, letting the larger man fall limp to the brick floor. "Now why'd you have to go and say that, huh? Breaking my heart over here," he remarked casually, sarcasm dripping from every word.

The blood drained from my face.

Hancock casually re-sheathed the knife and turned his attention towards me. "You all right, sister?" he asked, sauntering forward a few steps.

I stared at the limp body on the ground, watching the crimson spread of life's blood that slowly painted its way across the lines of mortar. He was dead. This "Finn," this man who had threatened me, had been murdered in cold blood right in front of my eyes. I had never seen anyone die before. My vision tunneled in, sharply focused on the cooling body. Dead. A high pitched ringing sounded in my ears and I felt suddenly dizzy. It was too much. I couldn't breathe. It was all just... too much to take in. My legs gave way as the world grayed out and I staggered to one side.