Fallout 4: AR

56. Going Dark

I don't know the specifics, but MacCready must've had one hell of a harangue for those two about the Railroad's treatment of us. When we left, we not only had the aforementioned ballistic outfits, but rations, a good selection of chems, plenty of ammunition, and he had traded in my combat shotgun and sniper for a new rifle. It fired 5.56 ammo, the same as my old Army M4, but it had been upgraded by Tom himself with not only a silencer, but a double-feed system that effectively boosted the amount of damage I could do by firing two rounds for every squeeze of the trigger. "I hadn't forgotten the bet we made back in Goodneighbor," he explained when he handed it to me. "One weapon; a 'really good one,' as you requested."

Dabbing at the moisture in my eyes at his thoughtfulness, I gratefully took it and replied, "Thank you, MacCready. Though I already have the best gun in the Commonwealth at my back." He grinned in response, gesturing for me to take the lead.

We were headed to Boston Airport as fast as we could move. I wanted to make sure that we still had the Brotherhood of Steel on our side. Since Danse knew I had been kidnapped, and was certain I was not going to return, I needed to reassure him that I had escaped. He was most likely still on the Prydwen, giving an after-action review to his superiors. Also, the Brotherhood might know of a power source unavailable to the Railroad that could be sufficient to send me home. I felt the obligation to inform Maxson of the latest intelligence we had gathered, to help in their fight against the Institute and maybe, just maybe, sway his opinion on the rogue Synths. It may have been a predictable move to head there first, but if we could get aboard the Prydwen they could transport us away from the center of Boston via vertibird much faster than we could move on foot.

All of these thoughts swirled chaotically in my head as we determinedly crossed north, passing a few blocks away from the still-empty Bunker Hill monument. The battle had left new scars even as far away as our line of travel, burns and fresh craters littering the concrete of the road and the brick walls of the tumbledown buildings. Rather than take the time to examine the rubble as we might have done in the past, we decided to move on through, relying heavily on our disguises to protect us from identification. I followed MacCready's lead, focusing on moving as quickly as possible.

"No, Boss," he murmured out of the corner of his bandanna-wrapped mouth, "you're mincing your steps too much. Walk more like you're about to brain the next thing you see with the butt of your rifle. Get angry."

I adjusted my stride again, trying to follow his directions to appear more like a dangerous raider than a clumsy out-worlder running scared from unseen bogeymen. My footsteps crunchingly echoed from the brick walls on either side of the broken street. Behind the cover of my own bandanna, I gritted my teeth, trying to feel anger instead of fear-laced dread.

"Better," my partner admitted, "but you don't have to stomp. We don't want to make that much noise." He was pacing along with his usual predatory stalk, lithe and dangerous, yet covering ground deceptively fast.

I studied his movements, trying to mimic the controlled swing of his legs and the slight roll of his shoulders into each step, the formidable power lightly controlled, ready to swing into battle at a moment's notice. If nothing else, I'm going to get a great workout trying to move like he does. After a few more blocks, when we skirted around the edge of the waterline to head more directly to our goal, I glanced over for a progress report.

"You look more balanced, at least," he commented lightly. "Dunno about 'dangerous', though. You might be a bit too cute for that." While I couldn't see his grin, MacCready's eyes crinkled up in merriment. He was nearly unrecognizable in his new outfit; patched jeans and a threadbare plaid shirt covered by a waist-length black leather jacket. A battered and squashed fedora completed his transformation. But the lithe movements were the same, and I felt a familiar flutter in my chest watching him step nimbly through the debris.