Fallout 4: AR

75. Captives

It wasn't difficult to figure out where he had gone. A slew of voices babbled from the center room- the cacophony of relief and emotional overflow. Random phrases briefly soared over the general hubbub. "Thank you! We're free!" "I just want to go home!" "We're saved!" "MacCready! I just knew you'd come for me!"

That last phrase, spoken by a feminine voice, spurred me to quicken my steps. What on Earth? Upon entering the room, I froze in shock and my heart dropped at the sight that greeted me. MacCready was sprawled on the carpet, his arms wrapped around a vaguely familiar young woman still wearing a slave collar, her lips locked against his. The babble of excited voices faded into silence as time froze.

I felt like I had been punched in the gut, like my V.A.T.S. system had invoked on its own to slow time, chiseling the scene irrevocably into my brain. Desperately, I tried to force reason into my emotional reaction, my thoughts racing. It's not what it looks like, I clung to the pithy phrase like a lifeline. You've been together for months now. He's never even looked at another woman in all that time. No. You know him better than that. And yet, my guts churned with heartbroken betrayal at the vision in front of my very own eyes.

Do you trust him, or not? The question echoed in my frantic mind.

I blinked. Yes, I thought firmly, forcing my body to relax. Yes, I do. I trust him with my life, my heart, my very soul.

Like a silent crack of thunder in my head, time resumed its normal flow.

MacCready pushed the young woman off of him, twisting out from underneath her and breaking the embrace. "What the hell, Trudy?!" he yelled, standing up. "What was that all about?" He snatched up his hat that had been knocked onto the floor, glaring at her. My heart returned to its normal place in my chest.

Trudy? She was one of the girls from that, ah, party over the winter, wasn't she? One of the ones Hancock said could never catch MacCready's attention. Not for lack of trying, if I remember correctly. Trudy had been the girl fondling Mac's thigh. Huh.

Trudy was not about to be dissuaded. "I knew it," she gasped, eyes shining. "I knew you'd rescue me as soon as you found out!" She crawled forward on her knees, reaching out to grab his duster.

"You hit your head or somethin'?" MacCready asked irritably, pulling away. "The only reason the boss and I are here at all is because Hancock sent us. Best save your," and his voice took on a tone of distaste, "thanks... for him." He scooped up the remote that had clattered away and handed it to me with a murmured, "Here, just press the green button to release the collar. I'll check the last room. I gotta get out of here." With a quick apologetic squeeze of my shoulder, he left.

"The Boss?" Trudy wiped a few tears away and finally looked up to notice me. She went very still, her face immediately a mask. "Oh," she said in a very quiet voice, barely even glancing in my direction when I unlocked her slave collar. Once free, she moved off to one side, silently staring at the floor, tears rolling unchecked down her face.

Oh dear.

The next person I approached was also familiar, and proved to be Mona, Hancock's other "girl" from the Third Rail. To my relief, she thanked me, then went to keep Trudy company as soon as her own collar was off. I breathed a sigh of thanks and focused on freeing the remaining five victims: one more woman and four men. Like the slaves in the first room, everyone showed signs of rough treatment at the hands of their captors and were in varying degrees of poor shape. One of the men was dealing with a massive wound on his leg, left untreated by the slavers, and I was quick to dig out a Stimpak to his immense gratitude.

By then, MacCready had returned to the doorway. Blatantly ignoring Trudy's adoring gaze, he gestured for me to come with him. "Boss? I need you for a second. The rest of you, stay here." Satisfied that I had done what I could for the time being, I followed.

The last room was partially collapsed. It was also where the slavers had thrown most of the useless junk taken from the victims. MacCready squeezed past the debris, leading me to a tiny corner. A faint red glow lit our movements and I soon laid eyes on a half-conscious boy curled up against the shattered wall. He looked to be no older than twelve and was covered in deep bruises.

"He actually looks better now," MacCready murmured in my ear. "Raiders had left him for dead. Stimpak saved his life."

With shaking hands, I removed his collar and tugged gently on his sleeve to get him to come with us. As soon as we reached the hallway, it became glaringly obvious why the raider-slavers had treated the boy so harshly. Though torn, muddy, and bloodstained, his uniform was that of a Squire in the Brotherhood of Steel- younger recruits raised alongside Brotherhood soldiers and trained to become full-fledged members when they reached adulthood. My eyes widened at the implications of a nearly-dead Squire all alone in a slaver camp.

"Guess that explains the power armor outside," MacCready brooded, helping the boy sit up and take a sip of purified water from our supplies. "This is not good, Boss."

The boy suddenly shook his head, looking about frantically. "Help!" He gazed at me in fright, then with a start of recognition begged, "Sarge! Please, my name is Squire Von. Our patrol... We were," he broke off in a sob. "We were ambushed! They... killed..." The rest of his sentence was lost as he started crying. He turned towards MacCready, clutching tightly.

"You're safe now, Squire Von," I assured the boy, leaning in for a three-way hug to comfort him as he wept. "We're going to get you home."