The second day began gray and stayed gray. Clouds hung low, smothering the light, and the air carried the sharp tang of ozone, like a storm without rain.
Ash walked with his eyes high, scanning rooftops and overpasses. The ruins thickened here — toppled cars, husks of buildings, a playground rusting in silence. Every shadow felt like it held teeth.
Crow had gone quiet too, his eyes darting more than usual. Even the brahmin seemed uneasy, lowing nervously as they plodded forward.
They came to a stretch of road funneled between crumbling storefronts. The guards shifted, unease settling over the group like a shroud.
That was when the first shot cracked.
The Ambush
The bullet punched through one guard's shoulder, spinning him to the ground.
"Cover!" Crow roared.
The street exploded with chaos. Raiders burst from windows, leaping from the husks of cars. Rusted armor plates clanged, painted faces twisted with hunger and rage. Gunfire rattled down the street, chewing dust from the asphalt.
Ash moved before he thought. His revolvers came free, one in each hand, humming alive. Eight chambers each. Sixteen shots before the recharge.
He didn't fan the triggers. He didn't need to. He squeezed and the world lit with red beams, clean and sharp. Raiders dropped mid-charge, smoking holes burned through armor.
One raider rushed him with a jagged machete, screaming. Ash sidestepped, pressed the muzzle to the man's chest, and fired point-blank. The body dropped smoking.
Another tried to flank the brahmin. Ash pivoted, twin barrels glowing, and fired in rhythm — left, right, left, right. Each shot precise, deliberate, faster than the raider could blink.
The Silence
It ended as quickly as it began. The last raider, seeing his crew torn apart, fled into the ruins, his screams echoing before vanishing into silence.
The street stank of scorched flesh and cordite. The wounded guard groaned as another tried to patch him up with dirty cloth.
Crow stood in the middle of it all, chest heaving, staring at Ash. The boy's revolvers still smoked faintly, his expression calm, almost cold.
Crow let out a rough laugh. "Damn me. You can shoot."
Ash holstered the guns without a word. He looked over the fallen raiders — young, most of them. Desperate. His eyes lingered only a moment before turning away.
Rivet City
They limped into Rivet City by dusk, the great aircraft carrier looming like a steel god over the river. The brahmin lowed in relief, guards slumped with exhaustion, and Crow clapped Ash on the shoulder as they passed into the safety of its gates.
"You're not just a kid anymore," Crow muttered. "You're a gun in the wastes. And guns in the wastes always get noticed."
Ash said nothing, but his eyes drifted toward the horizon — back toward Megaton. Toward home.