...Not in the Commonwealth.

  Tess exited the bunker and stopped to speak with Codsworth. “Hey, I’m heading to Concord, maybe there are still some people there that won’t shoot first and ask questions later.”

  She readjusted the weight of the pack which was already pressing uncomfortably into her shoulders. “I have to find others, I need a place to start, information to help me find Shaun.” She pointed to her left wrist. “Can you sync with this Pip-boy so I can contact you if need be?”

  “Of course, mum! Just pull that connector out and plug it into my interface panel.” he happily replied. “Once synced, you will find my frequency in the list of radio channels in your Pip-boy.”

  She found the panel on the side of his spherical body and opened it. The port was similar to the one on the vault control panel. She made the connection and in less than a minute they were synced. She checked the radio stations and renamed the new frequency “Codsworth,” then smiled at the only family member she had left. “Thanks, Codsworth.”

  Codsworth’s stalks blinked at her, “Mum, do be careful, and be sure to keep that mask on in this dreadful storm!”

  She grinned, marveling at how RobCo had managed to make these robots seem so human. But more than that, in this moment, she was just happy to have anyone, or anything, to speak with. “Will do, Codsworth,” she replied as she turned to leave, but then, looking over her shoulder she added, “Hedges are lookin’ fine, Codsworth.”

  She laughed softly at his reaction. It was as if he were a professional gardener puffing up with pride.

  “Thank you mum!”

  With a grin she pulled the rifle from her shoulder, checked the magazine and headed out of town.

  The storm, and her Pip-boy, crackled on. The strange timpani of the lightning jolted her bones and the green haze over everything was so surreal it was like being flung into a horror movie. Only this was a living, breathing nightmare that she would never wake from. The thought made her shiver. After the roaches she encountered in the vault, she was now hyper alert, not knowing what else might be roaming the world.

  She came to the Minutemen statue just past the end of the bridge out of Sanctuary, surprised that it was still in one piece in comparison to everything else. The centuries of weather cast a sickly, pale green patina over the ever-ready soldier’s body and rifle. Further down the road she could see most of the structure from the Red Rocket was still intact, albeit just a sad relic of a time long forgotten, a time that had been hers only a day ago. Her gut tightened.

  The wind soughed through the brown trees and bushes on either side of the road, swirling up dust and debris as she made her way to the station, eyeing all the rusted and abandoned cars. The contrast of this empty, eerie and rusted world to everything she had ever known was a heady reality to take in. As she got closer, she thought she was seeing things at first. Was that a dog?

  Cautiously she approached, wondering if it would come snarling at her, spewing out tentacles. At this point the realm of possibilities was endless. However, much to her surprise and relief, the mutt spotted her and whined, wagged its tail and then trotted towards her. She crouched down, giving him a good scritch behind one ear.

  “Hey boy, what are you doing out here alone?” And how are dogs even alive? she wondered. He answered with a playful huff, dancing his front legs with happiness. “All right then, you wanna come help me find my son? I could sure use the company, pal.” As though understanding her, he gave a soft bark. “Well, that settles it then.”

  It would be nice to have a real living, breathing being to travel with. Although the conversations would certainly prove lacking. This German Shepherd was relatively young. She guessed no more than two years old. But how? Where did he come from? Just more questions to add to the eternal list of them she was compiling. She smiled, tightened the strap of the rifle around her arm and set off with her new companion.

  Not 30 seconds had passed and the dog stepped in front of her growling. Momentarily confused, she scanned the area, then knelt behind him and looked down sights. “Well, what a good boy you are!”

  As expected, new fun and exciting creepy crawlies. Just ahead were two insects that resembled mosquitoes, even larger than the roaches she encountered, and they were feasting on what looked like the remains of a cow. It was hard to tell as the corpse was so badly decomposed it was practically part of the asphalt. She grimaced with disgust.

  Figuring it would be safer to just exterminate them, she lined up the shot, sighed out her breath and took the first one down. The second rose and immediately started to rush her but the dog raced forward, leapt at it, and with a sickening crunch, snapped it in two. She stood and watched the dog return, an eyebrow raised in surprise.

  “Let’s just say I’m glad you’re on my side.” She ruffled his ears and chuckled at his earnest face, his lolling tongue and his wagging tail. It was like someone knew she would need him and left him there for her. But in reality, she knew his story was probably worse than that. Much worse.

  They made their way to the city limits of Concord and she realized something that hadn’t consciously come to her earlier. Just how damn quiet it was. Nothing but the wind, the creaking of buildings and the caw of crows.

  And just why were there so damn many crows? It didn’t seem there was a lot of carrion to feast on, despite the cow from earlier. No, these birds seemed to flock around everywhere she went. It was almost creepy. Total Alfred Hitchcock vibes. Shaking it off, she cautiously made her way toward town.

  Scratch that. Not quiet.

  She ran for cover as she heard the zing of bullets that were apparently meant for her. “I guess Codsworth was right,” she muttered to herself. Even 50 years later the locals were still hostile.

  Wonderful.

  The dog was growling again and she could see his muscled flanks twitch “No boy, not yet.” He looked at her with disappointment. She surmised that this dog was a little more than just your run-of-the-mill mutt as he seemed preternaturally intelligent. Win for her, she supposed. He moved closer but still in front of her.

  “You are somethin’ else boy, aren’t you.” The bullets had stopped. Did they give up or were they just reloading? Quietly, she and her new best friend went around the first building of the main street that led to The Museum of Freedom at the end of the road. She remembered visiting it while she was still in law school.

  Looking through her scope, she scanned for whoever had rolled out the red carpet. A flicker, something moved. “There you are, you bastard.” Just as she placed her finger on the trigger the dog vaulted off at full tilt. She sighed. “Well, that was a very fulfilling, yet short-lived relationship.”

  Squatting down she realized that the storm had passed and gratefully removed the stifling gas mask, hooking it on her belt. She crouch-stepped quickly around the building to a space between it and the next crumbling structure. Peeking around the corner she heard a male screaming. “Get off me, ahhh!”

  She had to stifle a chuckle. “I’ll be damned,” she whispered. Not knowing if the chew toy had any friends, she did another scan then quickly sprinted to the storefront across from her where she had spotted the guy. The dog came out, muzzle bloody.

  “Can I reiterate how glad I am you’re on my side?” He did a little dance in response. The contrast of his dog smile and the blood dripping from his mouth was bizarrely comical. They entered the store on alert. No one but the dead guy. She checked him. His neck was broken.

  Wow.

  And then all hell broke loose. This time it sounded like an army. Peeking through a corner of the dingy, broken window she saw a group of men and women, about eight or nine of them, rushing into the street right in front of her, whooping and shouting. She ducked quickly under the half wall of the store front. They were headed toward the museum.

  She managed to raise up just enough to peek out unnoticed. They were disheveled, wearing rags and bits of leather with strange metal pieces that she would probably not have called armor, and they were speaking to each other at what she would have calculated to be a fourth grade education.

  She took a closer look through her scope. Their weapons were laughable. They looked like something from a bad NRA science fair project, all wooden and duct taped. How they actually fired, she had no idea. But a bullet to the brain will still kill you, no matter what delivers it.

  From what she could see, they were shooting at some people who were running toward the museum, trying to flee inside, and there was another man on the corner who was apparently shooting at the fourth graders. Huh. Who was this suicidal idiot?

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “Come on, boy,” she whispered to the dog who followed obediently. They slipped out of the store and around to the back, running behind the rest of the derelict buildings until she was at the last one. Peeking around the corner of the structure, she saw a man up on the balcony of the museum and she almost burst out laughing. The guy had on some old costume–like revolutionary war old–complete with hat and cravat, and he was shooting a laser rifle.

  Since the man on the balcony and Mr. Suicide had the cretins’ attention, she clicked her weapon into full auto and came out shooting. The dog immediately went to work. The world was suddenly immersed in a cacophony of bullets and death. And then it was quiet. How she wasn’t shot, she had no idea.

  It’s official. I’ve completely lost my mind.

  Mr. Revolutionary War shouted down, “Hey, up here! We could use some help, there are more of them inside. Please help us!” And then Mr. Suicide came out from behind some sandbags that were apparently left over from before the bombs. He looked incredulously at her as though seeing an alien coming down the ramp of a space ship. She tilted her head at him and decided maybe he wasn’t Mr. Suicide after all, maybe he was Mr. Crazy.

  The dog was coming back toward her but stopped and sniffed Mr. Suicide/Crazy, wagging his tail. Well, shit, if he was good enough for the dog, then fine by her. She raised her hand and waved. Mr. Whatever-He-Was-Now tentatively waved back. She slung her rifle and walked toward him. He was out of breath but never took his eyes off her. “Hi,” she said.

  “Well hello to you! That was incredible! I mean, you just took out that entire pack of raiders!”

  His jaw was still dropped. Okay, maybe he was Mr. I-Want-to-Catch-Flies-in-My-Mouth. She was still mulling the names over.

  “Looked like you could use the help,” she smiled at him.

  “You could say that again!” he agreed. She noticed he was bleeding. He’d caught one in the arm. He offered a slightly shaking hand and she accepted. “Name’s Jake. Jake Evans.”

  “Nice to meet you Jake, I’m Tess Vanderbilt.”

  He had a strange look on his face for a moment. Maybe he had been coming up with names for her. She almost snickered at the thought.

  He was very attractive, 6′2" if he was an inch. His hair was the color of warm chocolate and his hazel eyes glinted in the early morning sun. He was muscular, but in a lean way. Compared to what she had seen so far–including Mr. Revolutionary War–he was dressed much better.

  He wore a button down blue checkered shirt, a brown leather vest, jeans, and an odd red woolen scarf of sorts around his neck. And were those cowboy boots? Huh, fitting since she detected a slight southern drawl. All his items were old and careworn, but she could see he took the time to keep them clean, however that was accomplished in this world. At least he didn’t smell like the one the dog had taken down.

  He nodded with a smile. “Well, darlin’, I’m damn glad you happened by when you did. These damn raiders’ve been gettin’ a lot bolder lately.” They both snapped their heads toward the museum as gunfire broke out inside. “Sounds like those folks could use some help, too,” he added sheepishly.

  Good grief, was she the new law in town now? She took a deep breath. “There better be a shiny new badge for me after this,” she teased.

  Jake snickered at her, “Roger that, Sheriff.”

  “Are you okay?” she asked, gesturing to his arm.

  He looked puzzled for a moment and then answered, “Oh, yeah, no I’m fine, I’ve definitely had worse.”

  Worse than being shot. Dear god what was this world? Not knowing what to say to that she just nodded.

  “Come on boy,” she motioned and the dog immediately trotted off to the museum door.

  Astonishing.

  “Hey,” Jake called, “Come on by after, I’ll be here in this hardware store.”

  Glancing back she said “I’ll take that vote of confidence!”

  He blushed slightly and nodded. “From what I just saw, I don’t think a deathclaw could stop you.”

  Her mouth opened to ask but she decided it could wait. If people really did need help, she’d be no better than the raiders if she didn’t at least try. She just smiled back and headed to the prancing dog and the door to uncertainty.

  It took the better part of an hour to clear the remaining miscreants from the museum. She had been lucky. As she snuck in, she spotted two shooters on an upper level engaged with Mr. Revolutionary War. That gave her the distraction she needed to rapidly take them down. The dog, of course, had already jetted off into the building. He was certainly a puzzle.

  There were three steps up to the main floor of the museum lobby and on the far side was a gate, but it was locked so she took a hallway that wound around into a room full of mannequins. Not creepy at all. Further in she took down a third raider and moved upstairs.

  She heard two of them arguing over something, loudly. Why don't they just blow a bugle? she mused. But before she could get all the way into the room, the dog had already dispatched one and had the other one pinned down. She put him out of his misery.

  Eventually they cleared the place and entered a room where Mr. Revolutionary War was. He told her his name was Preston Garvey and made the introductions to his group, sharing with her how they had escaped some huge massacre in Quincy and used more terminology she wasn’t familiar with (like speaking of ghouls as if they were actual beings, for one).

  Tess noticed that the dog had immediately gone to sit at the feet of the blind looking woman on the couch, Mama Murphy. She found out the old woman knew the dog and said his name was - are you ready? - Dogmeat. Not exactly the moniker she would have given him but, hey, he seemed to like it so, why not.

  And more irony, they were headed to settle somewhere called Sanctuary. Could her first day in this mindfuck of a world get any stranger? She agreed to help them and said she would come back for them but there was something she needed to do first. She was curious what Mr. ... no, Jake wanted to talk to her about. Preston said they needed to rest anyway and had planned to leave in the morning.

  Jake watched Tess and the pooch crouch and quickly enter the museum. Normally he'd never let a woman do something dangerous alone. Not that they weren't capable—especially this one—but it was just his upbringing.

  Jesus, she probably thinks you're a complete coward!

  He frowned. Everything had just happened so fast he didn't really have time to think. But his arm was definitely a mess. He left a trail of blood in the store all the way up to the second floor where he had his med kit. Grimacing, he opened it and pulled out a couple of stimpaks and sat down, leaning against the wall. The first one started working immediately—at least the pain was subsiding—but he could feel that the bullet had nicked bone and that was going to need a second dose. It took a while but the bleeding finally stopped.

  His thoughts wandered back to this new woman and he wondered who she was. She seemed so... clean. And where'd she get a rifle like that? Further, how'd she learn to shoot it that well? He had to admit that for a split second when he saw her, he thought she was a Gunner. But the fatigues she was wearing were different from any he’d seen on them. Now he just wanted to know her story.

  He was just grateful she had been willing to help because he had one look at that group of unarmed folk and knew their story. He'd seen it more times than he could count. They were displaced. They were trying to survive. And seeing those pieces of shit trying to kill them for sport and the items on their backs just hit a nerve, and if he went down protecting them, then so be it.

  But truth be told he was sure glad Tess had come by when she did or he might've bled out. He had not been anticipating a shootout today and mentally vowed to never be without a stim or two on his person from now on.

  It was becoming hard to keep his eyes open. Damn adrenaline crash. She sure was pretty, though. Long copper red hair and green eyes the color of sea foam. Her mouth was... yes, her mouth... he trailed off and fell asleep.

  Tess left the museum and headed to the corner hardware store. She didn’t see Jake, but she did see an alarming swathe of blood along the floor. She immediately pulled her rifle and crouched, heading toward the stairs as quietly as possible. As usual, the dog–excuse me–Dogmeat, took off. Damn it.

  But she didn’t hear shrieks of pain, no bullets flying. What she did hear was someone weakly laughing. She trotted up to the second floor to find Jake sprawled out against a wall being mauled with dog kisses.

  “Okay boy, okay, thanks but mmmmpphh,” he grunted, closing his mouth against the barrage of dog tongue.

  She started laughing. “Seems you’ve made a friend.” She moved over to him, crouching down to look at the wound. “How’s the arm?”

  “It’s fine, nothin’ a couple stimpaks couldn’t handle.” He sounded exhausted.

  She was surprised. Two hundred years later and there were still stimpaks floating around? Regardless, she was going to guard the few she had like they were the crown jewels, just in case.

  ’Hey,” he continued, “I’m sorry I didn’t go in there with you to help, feelin' kinda bad about that, but–”

  She cut him off, “Yeah. Sure. I can always use a partner whose arm is falling off to back me up.” She smirked at him and he started laughing.

  “Glad you understand, just didn’t want you thinkin' I was throwin’ you to the wolves.”

  Tess really liked the way light refracted in his hazel eyes. There was a lot of green in them, surrounded by a ring of brown.

  Her heart suddenly stung as her mind flashed to her husband, frozen in a cryopod. She’d never see him again. Never hold him, smell him... love him. Her entire body began to ache as she realized everything had been thrown at her all at once. She had been tossed into a meat grinder and spit out into a hellish world she no longer recognized.

  In the last 24 hours, she went from planning a picnic on a stunning October day to having a shootout with smelly bandits. From being in her beautiful house to seeing it in tatters in a post apocalyptic wasteland. From looking lovingly into the eyes of her husband, to finding him dead in a vault. And someone had stolen their baby.

  She sat down and felt everything in her body being drained out through her pores, as if she was now nothing, a cosmic spec of dust floating in the air with nothing to tether it. Her life was gone. Her world was gone. She wished she could have just stayed frozen. But she had to find Shaun.

  “Tess?” Jake asked gently. “Are you all right?”

  She fought hard to stave the tears but she could feel her eyes welling up.

  “Hey, hey,” Jake moved next to her. “It’s all right, darlin', you did it, they’re all dead, right? You helped those people?”

  Now she really started to cry. She felt Jake gently place an arm around her.

  “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “It’s just... I, well... shit!” She looked at Jake, his face was contorted with worry. What did she have to lose? She had no road map in this world, no compass, no footing.

  She told him everything.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” he said, his brows knitted tightly. “I know what that’s... I mean, I understand how that can feel. Seen way too much of that kinda heartache in this world. Jesus, this must be beyond culture shock for you, I can’t even imagine.” He held her next to him in silence and let her cry.

  She felt grateful, if for nothing else, to be near another human being, someone that wasn’t trying to shoot her or leave her for dead in a vault. The horrors of the day slowly ebbed into a manageable state and she sniffled, inhaling and exhaling deeply.

  “Well, at least that explains why you’re so clean,” he said out of nowhere.

  The absurdity of it made her start to laugh and she laughed so hard she was gasping for air.

  Jake looked at her curiously with a smirk.

  She wiped her nose with her sleeve and turned to him. “Thank you. I didn’t mean to dump all that–”

  “Don’t apologize. I think after the day you’ve had you deserve to cry, scream, hell, set somethin' on fire if ya need to!”

  She suddenly realized that he must be a rare individual indeed. If the small bit of this world she’d seen so far was any indication, most people were hostile assholes who preyed on the weak and vulnerable. She found Jake thoughtful, caring, and to her embarrassment, intelligent. She leaned into his shoulder and he embraced her.

  “Thank you,” she said meekly.

  “You’re welcome,” he replied softly.

  They sat together in silence.