Chapter 25

She couldn't avoid Arcade forever as she would have liked. Eventually, Caesar summoned her to personally congratulate her efforts with the Boomers, for securing their loyalty. Little did he know, their loyalty was with her, not the Legion.

Still, thanks were apparently in order. She stood before the Great Caesar and held herself very still before his praises. She saw Arcade with chains around his ankles on the ground by Caesar's side, but she very carefully avoided making eye contact. It didn't stop the glare he burned into her skin.

Caesar's praises were, as to be expected, shortlived for a woman, and he ended his speech to rebuke her for not accomplishing anything with the White Glove Society and the Brotherhood yet. He excused the former failure; the Legion was strong enough without a Strip Family. He pressed upon her the urgency of the later; the Brotherhood must be annihilated.

It was urgent that she left soon; Caesar was impatient and wanted to take the dam as soon as possible. Lanius was close, arriving any day now. The Monster of the East would not wait, so Vulpes warned. She said nothing, reduced to a numb shell barely aware of her surroundings. She didn't leave immediately for her task as Caesar had desired, even despite the prodding of Vulpes.

"You were so willing to jump at any opportunity to leave the Fort. What's changed? Please do not tell me that you are still upset about the enslavement of that Follower doctor."

"And if I am?" she countered impassively, methodically stitching the repairs in her armor.

Vulpes straightened, composing himself from his annoyance. "If you were, I would gently remind you the futility of your concern, supposing your loyalty remains with me and the Legion. Your Follower companion is safest where he is, as I've already pointed out. In either case, as the personal ward of Caesar, little can be done for him now."

She rose from her seat and calmly walked past him. "Perhaps my loyalty does not remain. As I've already suggested, perhaps my loyalty never was."

He gripped her arm before she could leave his presence. His hold was firm but not painful. "Maria—"

She turned her head to look him in those diamond eyes. "I don't know who this Maria is." Despite her calm, she could do nothing to suppress the slight shake in her voice, the hiss of her timbre over his appointed name of her.

He seemed taken aback by her severity. She wasn't sure to believe if that was even an authentic reaction from the ever-calculated Vulpes. "Is this how you've decided to punish me?"

"What would I be punishing you for, my lord husband?" she countered sweetly. The condescending sneer always accompanied the title she mocked.

His eyebrows quirked. She could imagine he was at a loss on how to respond to her ever-changing temperament. "What sin have I committed that garners your punishment?"

She twisted from his grip. "I've no idea."

She started on her path again to leave his presence, but something he said held her back. "You're being dishonest with me."

"Only to the extent that you've been dishonest with me." She paused. "I'll leave and do as Caesar commands, since apparently, I'm the only one in the entire Legion capable."

He dipped his head, angling his face closer to her. She could feel his light breath against her earlobe. "Make no mistake. It's not your capability. It's your dispensability."

She inclined her own head, keeping her sweet smile. "But you don't think I'm dispensable."

She left him then with his confused expression puzzling over her words.

She went alone on Lucullus's raft across the great river. She sat, blinking into the setting sun. If she was being honest with herself, she felt an overwhelming sense of solitude and loneliness. Boone was gone. Carla and Baby Craig gone. Victor was gone. She would see Sarah never again. Never again. She wouldn't visit Goodsprings and risk Doc Mitchell or the Nashes in Primm as she had foolishly risked Arcade. Her husband was left behind, enigmatic as ever, to a fault even.

Heroes were oft lonely, a fate she would have to expect. But she was already so exhausted, so drained of her heroism.

But she would remain stalwart. She would not let the Legion the victory of conquering her.

Red Rock Canyon had been her initial destination but it was a long ways from Cottonwood Cove. She could afford some detours. Novac was her first one. And she went under the cover of night. They could remember her, and she didn't want to be recognized. It was best for them if she remained undetected.

First, she checked on the Boones. Her heart made an odd leap in her chest, it felt like panic almost, at the prospect of the Boones remaining in Novac, being so close. But one look into their room told her it was long abandoned. Boone probably hadn't returned to it since she was first captured.

Hell, that seemed ages ago now.

She had a room herself at the little motel. It had been ages since she visited the inside of it as well. She clearly remembered on their return from REPCONN how she had eagerly awaited her bed, a bed she owned. It wasn't much but it was something in this cruel world.

She slipped inside, wondering what was left of her meager possessions. She didn't have much After the Bullet. Very few personal items of any sentimental value. The only thing was a Vault 112 suit granted to her by Doc Mitchell. She wondered if the denizens of Novac ever rented her room out to anyone else. When she opened the door, she discovered it was left mostly untouched.

But only mostly.

On the bed was a dark mass of fabric, uncharacteristic of the room. When she drew closer to it, she saw a familiar sight. A black, threadbare shawl, bespeckled with white and pink. The sight of it almost made her cry out. She remembered the last time she had seen it—around Carla's neck holding Baby Craig as they slipped away from her forever.

Even more glorious, it came with a note in cramped writing:

"We do not know if you made it out. We do not know if you will ever make it out or if you will die like the countless others bound by the Legion. But what we do know is that we will be eternally grateful for your help and friendship. Baby Craig, as you so affectionately call him, will be raised on the legend of the Courier Reborn who risked everything to protect him and ensure his safety. You will never be forgotten.

We have no other way to repay you or thank you for what you've done. So we've done the only thing we can think of—return this scarf to you, whether or not you are able to come back for it.

We are not staying in Novac. We are going west—towards California. We hope, one day, to see you again.

We love you.

Signed,

Craig, Carla, and "Baby" Craig Boone."

Her hands were shaking, making it difficult to reread their words. It took her entirely too long to realize she was crying.

"We love you," they had said.

Little did they know, the Boones actually saved her from a dark, forsaken path. There was nothing for them to repay.

She took her scarf, her only token to her past humanity, and buried her face into it. She imagined she could smell the sweet fresh scent of Baby Craig. And she wept into it.

After a few minutes, she pushed down and swallowed her emotions. She wrapped the shawl loosely around her neck, climbed onto the bed, and waited.

The sun came with the dawn and passed inexorably across the dirty window. She did not move from her spot. She waited for many hours until the sun dipped low into the sky and became night again.

And then, the door opened as she had suspected it would. She greeted her visitor. "I knew you would show yourself."