Fallout 4: AR

35. Lessons in Distraction

"Back to Goodneighbor, then?" asked MacCready as soon as we stepped into the early afternoon light. The air was not as frigid as the day before, the sun warming the bricks of the buildings around us. I took a moment to install the Pip-Boy back on my arm, feeling the familiar pulse of accompanying energy. Tom's words still echoed in my head – "kill a Courser." Three words that could change my life, again. I hadn't realized I had spoken aloud until my partner answered me.

"Not the easiest of tasks," he commented. "Both Deacon and Tinker Tom left things out from their oh-so-illuminating discussion. Coursers are the elite hunters of the Institute Synths. They're tough, strong, fast, deadly, and next to impossible to kill. But, you have the best gun in the Commonwealth backing you up. If that's what you need, we'll get that chip." He started walking, giving me a nudge to keep up. "Next lesson: Don't give up hope. Stranger things have happened in the Wasteland."

"I just don't know what to think anymore," I sighed. "At least we know more than we did. I'm so..." I trailed off.

"So...?" MacCready encouraged.

"Confused. Frustrated." I gestured randomly with my shotgun. "Angry at whoever did this to me. I'm nobody, just some random woman living her life, not bothering a soul," I hissed, "why pick me?" My frustration grew and I stalked down the street.

"You're not nobody," he insisted, then thought for a moment before changing tack. "You know what I like to do to let off steam when I'm upset?"

"No?"

"Shoot things. Preferably things that deserve it." A sinister smile creased his face. "Like maybe some ferals? Or even Super-Mutants, if we're very careful. It's a nice distraction from your problems."

"You think that will help?" I checked my ammunition. If we can stock up in Goodneighbor, I should be good. MacCready seems to have a decent handle on how to emotionally survive, "rolling with the punches" as he terms it. Maybe I should try emulating him more. I could use a distraction.

"Can't hurt," he shrugged. "We could use the caps from looting, and we'd be clearing out some of central Boston, making life safer for the common citizen." he finished in a fruity announcer's voice. "Just like the goody two-shoes we're supposed to be."

Gritting my teeth in a grimly determined expression, I challenged my friend. "Show me." If I'm going to be angry, I may as well take it out on something that needs to be eliminated... for the good of the Commonwealth, of course.

MacCready was as good as his word. We stalked the alleyways of downtown Boston between the Old North Church and Goodneighbor, looking for a fight. One small cemetery was home to a group of feral Ghouls, who soon became proper silent unmoving company for the interred inhabitants. A single wandering Super Mutant was more of a challenge, but once I had blown out his knee with my shotgun, it was a simple matter for us to take him out. Both initial fights against the non-human adversaries were almost reassuring to my conscience, knowing I was helping clear out dangers in the Commonwealth.

We also ran into a small squad of roving Gunners, fortunately none of whom recognized MacCready as one of their former members. That fight was the toughest yet, the Gunners being better armed and more alert than either of our previous adversaries, winging both of us before we could take cover. We had to take shelter in a boarded up doorway, exchanging fire. When the last of them were dispatched, we quickly looted the bodies of as much as we could carry. I felt an unconscious twinge of remorse. These were human beings after all, despite being the bottom-feeders of the Commonwealth, taking contracts when they could, raiding and killing when it suited them. MacCready had made the right decision cutting ties with them as soon as he did, since he actually had a conscience and a good heart under his prickly emotional shield. I tried to rationalize our attack, but it still sat uneasily in my mind.