Running that Long Road Home

Chapter 1: New Home

It was an uneventful morning. 'young-man' Duncan got up, slid his overalls over his flannel, brushed his teeth like Uncle Josie always told him to with the whittled tooth-sticks he made. Duncan knew he was old, but did he always have to stay so stuck in his old ways?

The fog had begun to clear. In the past, they would've waited to see the water tower in the distance before moving between buildings. But nobody's seen a raider attack in, years?

"Out of straw for Heffer-Beth, damn."

It was another cold morning and now he'd have to dig out the reserve hay from the rooftop barn. But as his Pa always said, 'you can complain about it for ages, or you can get it over with quick' Sighing loudly, he grabbed his pitchfork, took a breath and climbed up the metal ladder leading to the loft.

"Duncan!" An old geezer's voice came booming through the barn, "Get down here and help your old man!"

"What is it Pa? Is the heating broken again?" Duncan hollered back. Pa had no patience for tech any more advanced than gunpowder or a distiller, but he always called on him whenever Josiah wasn't around to help him get some machine working.

"Just get your eyes and ears down here!"

It seemed like today was gonna be one of those days. Pa in a sour mood, the chores taking up all day, and dinner being another bland reheated packet of blamco mac-and-cheese with some fried eggs.

"What's so important Pa? It's barely 6 am and you're already out of bed. Is the world ending again?"

"What? Don't be thick! I just... might need your brains for something. That's all!"

"Can't it wait Pa? It's freezing and I want to get these animals fed before I start tinkering with the old tractor. It'll mean no more digging in the dirt every season for us!"

"Oh for the love of- not this again..." croaked the greying figure underneath his hunting duster. His face, heavy with lines but still unmistakably defiant. "Look, Duncan, I need your help. There's something I want to do for your Uncle... but... I can't get into his machine."

"You want me to hack into Josie's terminal?"

"If that's how it works, then yes..." The old man sighed, then smiled. He turned and grabbed a short blackboard by the side of the barn. It was covered in such tiny writing, some of it barely readable.

"I just wanted to leave a short message on his terminal to surprise him when he gets back from the market today. A gift for him."

"Awww Pa, why didn't you say so? And here I was thinking you were gonna lecture me about keeping the noise down in the garage again."

The smile on his face fell into a scowl, "You kept me awake for two days with that crap!"

"Watch that mouth Pa! You know Uncle Josie don't swear, so he'll know I picked it up from you." Duncan teased, seeing his father's temper running short.

"Look, can you do it or not son?" Old man MacCready raised his voice. 'He's certainly got that from me' he bitterly thought to himself.

"I'll open the terminal for ya Pa, don't worry. But I'm not about to read your little love poems. You keep that between you and Josie." Duncan mused.

"I plan to. Just get the damn thing ready." he grumbled to himself before turning back to the house, clutching the blackboard with both arms in the cold while Duncan returned to finish feeding Heffer-beth.

Soon the sun came out from behind the hills, dissolving the last of the mist to reveal the wide landscape of their homestead. Though it was modest compared to the vast Mechanofarms the Lyon's order had set up near major settlements, it was still more than enough land to provide for their small family and trade the surplus for scrap. Travel was... long, but being secluded away from New Lexington was Josiah's idea to keep a low-profile. MacCready felt a pang in his heart as he imagined where he would have been if Josiah hadn't stumbled into that bar in goodneighbor all those years ago. He was no stranger to danger, and yet despite all the pain he was dragged through, he knew he would go through it again to be with him.