Radioactive Grace 8: In The Line of Duty

This is the continuation of a Fallout 3/New Vegas Let’s Play. You can read Part 1 here, or go to the index page.

August 20, 2277

Dear Diary,

Haven’t felt much like writing lately. Not since I got Sheriff Simms killed. Things have quieted down a little, so let me catch you up.

The guy who wanted to talk to me the other night was a man named Burke. He tried to hire me to rig the nuke to explode, on the principle that as a stranger to Megaton I wouldn’t care about murdering so many people. I couldn’t listen, and ran to get Simms.

Simms confronted Burke, and didn’t buy it when the monster tried to play it off like a misunderstanding. Arrested him.

Turned to lead him away, and that dog Burke shot him right in the back.

All at once I felt this white-hot anger ignite in my belly, and before I even knew it I was on Burke, hitting him, kicking him, beating him with my bat. He tried to get his gun on me but I was too fast, too furious. I killed him.

Just when it was all making sense, the world collapses around me again.

The people of Megaton had a funeral for him, consigning his ashes to the wasteland. I hear it was a nice service. I didn’t go. Wouldn’t be right. And, truth be told, I couldn’t bring myself to face his boy Harden. Couldn’t face the family I’d destroyed.

You might ask yourself what I could have done. Burke would have eventually hired some drifter to blow up that bomb. Maybe I saved a lot of people.

Yeah. Well.

Maybe I could have stopped him myself. Maybe I didn’t need to drag Simms into this. That’s the old Grace, the one who grew up in a vault, running to authority when something needs to be done.

That’s Vault talk. This is Outside. And Outside, there’s no Overseer. No ultimate authority. Just a whole lot of folks trying to get by. Some of them good. Some of them bad.

That’s the last time I go running for help. From now on, I handle things myself.

Can’t sleep. Nobody blames me. Nobody needs to.

Went out of the commons and saw the moon glinting off that damn bomb. Only thing Simms ever asked of me was to disarm it if I could.

So I did. Snuck down there around midnight, used my PipBoy, and managed to avoid killing all of us as a… I don’t know. Tribute to Simms. Way of setting things right.

Felt right. Felt like I could sleep. Turn around, going to go back up to the Commons and there’s Harden.

I stare at him and he stares at me and we don’t say anything but we both know I got his daddy killed.

Finally he just speaks. Tells me that his dad had said I was going to disarm the bomb, and that Lucas had set aside the key to one of Megaton’s empty houses if I pulled it off.

I didn’t want it. Didn’t want to stay. But I couldn’t turn it down. Whatever Harden wanted, I couldn’t say no to the kid. I owed him.

When Lucas died, I grabbed his hat off the ground. Didn’t want it stepped on in the Saloon. I offered it to Harden. He told me know, that I should keep it, and just walked away.

Poor kid. Poor all of us.

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