Fallout 4: AR

56. Going Dark

"Thanks, I think." I said, not quite trusting the turn the discussion was taking. "Um, why do I get the feeling that you're about to drop more bad news on me?"

"Because we are." Deacon sighed in regret, turning to give his attention back to Tinker Tom. Behind me, MacCready grumbled softly under his breath and laid a comforting hand on my shoulder, which I covered with mine.

"Uhh, yeah," Tom shifted his weight nervously. "You see, wiping the Institute's matter transmission data prevented them from knowing where you went or immediately sending anyone after you, but it didn't disable their communication relays. So, while no one in the Institute can currently teleport in or out..."

"The Synths and agents already on the surface are actively searching for you," Deacon finished quietly. "And not even the Railroad knows who all of them are."

I felt the blood drain from my face, reeling from the impact of the news. Feeling faint, I leaned forward to cradle my head in my hands, hopeless tears stinging my eyes. I'm being hunted. The thoughts swirled frantically in my mind. Shit shit shit! What can I do about that? Am I going to get everyone else in danger? How am I supposed to get home while on the run? Above my head, there were random noises of moving cloth and shuffling feet. The sound of a body being shoved floated across the emotional tension just as a pair of muddy boots stepped into my field of vision. MacCready. He crouched down and gripped my upper arms supportively.

"Pull it together, Boss," he whispered firmly. "Right now we're alive, we're safe, and I won't let those bastards lay a finger on you ever again. We can take on the whole world if we stick together, right?"

Taking heart in his steadfast support, I looked deeply into his intense crystal gaze and nodded. "We". I don't know if I deserve that, but I love the sound of it. "Right. Thank you." Standing up, I firmly grasped on to my courage and turned to address the Railroad leaders. "So, what do we need to do?"

-0-

They called it "going dark." MacCready and I were both given new outfits lined with Tom's ballistic weave, as well as different headgear and even a couple of bandannas we were to wear at all times in public. My Pip-Boy was currently stowed in the cargo pocket of my trousers, wrapped in a thin square of lead-lined cloth. While the likelihood of the Institute agents being able to locate me from its signal was low, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility. Since I couldn't turn the darn thing off, removing it and trying to shield the signal was the next best thing. I felt more exposed without its constant background thrum along my nerves than if I were walking around naked. Next to it was a data tape, a compressed version of the latest findings about the Institute. While the Railroad was the first beneficiary of the intelligence stolen during my trip underground, I insisted that the other factions be kept informed. Tom had hesitantly cobbled together a report, forestalling the need to scan my Pip-Boy.

"Stay moving," was the advice from Deacon, when Desdemona gave us the ultimatum: clear out and stay away from the Railroad headquarters until we were contacted again. "Get out of the center of Boston; that's where the message we intercepted was sending the topside agents to look for you. The farther away, the faster, the better. I wish we could hide you here, but we just can't take that chance; you're too much of a liability right now. With MacCready's expertise in Wasteland survival you'll be okay. Don't use your Pip-Boy unless you absolutely have to, but keep an eye on it. We'll contact you as soon as it's safe to do so. And if you can find a way home," he had lowered his sunglasses to give me a rare forthright look. "Take it. You have to stay out of the Institute's hands, for all of our sakes."

Fair enough, as far as it went, though the sudden perfidy from the Railroad's leadership left a bad taste in my mouth. At least they helped gear us up before slamming the door in our faces, I thought a little bitterly. MacCready had not taken the dismissal as well as I had, which wasn't well at all, and he had nearly gone after Desdemona when she laid out the initial ultimatum. I had to order him to stand down in a quiet, commanding hiss, suggesting quite strongly that he use his legendary haggling prowess to get us properly armed and geared up before we stepped out the door. His angry growl had transformed into a predatory grin and he had stalked off to confront both Tinker Tom and Deacon.