October 26th, 2287
5:40 A.M.

The first time Nate and Meathead tried crossing the Charles River, they were nearly blown to pieces.

The signs of danger were present long before they even got close. Nate moved through the city slowly, his heart telling him to treat the city he once could safely walk through, as a war zone.

But, the Tucker Memorial Bridge was covered with petrol and vasoline. Landmines dotted the bridge, along with fishing poles with line rigged as tripwire detonators.

Nate's grin soured as he peered through the binoculars.

"I can't fucking see 'em." He sneered. "I know you fuckers are out there, though. Show your stupid heads." He grits his teeth, like a hunter waiting for a deer to move beyond a tree.

"<They're there. They're hungry.>" Meathead said, head aimed across the river towards the next bridge a half a mile away.

Nate scanned back and forth, going slowly. Eyes crawling over every tree, every building, looking for anything not from nature.

From the Art of War, by Sun Tzu, you'll hear that elements to consider while ruling is Heaven and Earth, the moral law, the commander, Method, and Discipline. Nate considered Earth. He heavily considered Earth before crossing the bridge into Cambridge because the stretch of earth spanning between here and there was too far not to consider hazardous.

"There's a building on the other side of this bridge here, Wattz Electronics. It was always open from 8:00 Am. to 10:00 Pm. Monday through Saturday. That means it was open when the bombs fell. I went in there one time and got to know one of the mechanics, and we started talking about robots and how they're armed, and he mentions the ammo on the third floor that they keep for the securitrons." Nate reasoned, recalling all the home-field advantages. "Plenty of cover, place to duck into, one door in the front, loading bay in the back. That's if you can bore through the garage doors, I assume they're blocked. Manager's office upstairs they could use as a nest for anyone coming in through the front door.

"There." He said.

"<Two.>"

"That's right. I see you, you green motherfucker." He said through his binoculars. "You have no idea I'm even here. Meathead, can you use your magic to throw a grenade right to them?

"<Pretty sure as sure. I could do even one better, and teleport it over.>"

Nate's eyes went up to the sky, and he pulled his binoculars down, leaving two big O rings around his eyes.

"Teleport." He wanted to pose as a question but instead repeated that word. Nate wanted to know more.

The changeling dog nodded, "<It's not that heavy, and it's not going that far. How far away would you say those mutants are? 400 meters?>"

"It's about a half mile from here to the next bridge, I'd say close to half a mile. You can do that?" Nate asked, hands by his sides.
.
"<Yep, Do you have the grenade?> Nate pulled one from his bandolier of grenades and held it out for Meathead to take.

"Send them a Hail Mary, Meathead."

The fragmentation grenade was wrapped an in a green ball of light, pulling downwards into Nate's hand, it disappeared in a flash of green fire, appearing fifteen feet over the super mutant's heads, half a mile away. They heard a 'pop-fizz' like someone opened a can of soda with a pull tab very quickly.

The grenade dropped, bouncing once and exploding by their heads, ripping away the ear closest to the blast. One mutant's face was half gone, blown into the concrete pillar supports to the bridge, killed instantly.

The other mutant yelled and fired over the water, blindly.

All the living creatures with working ears in a mile radius heard the blast and shots.

It was a semi-automatic pipe rifle. The way the sound echoed across the river and through the streets of Cambridge and Boston put people on the alert.

Nate and dropped to the pavement, and stayed low behind concrete cover as Meathead ducked his head behind the barrier and plodded along behind Nate.

Grabbing his binoculars, he observed the windows. Tiny glints of reflecting light told him there were people watching.

Looking to see what was going on in the neighborhood, like neighbors that don't want to be too nosy, and peek through the window curtain.

Nate made Meathead wait silently for an hour, they both laid there, waiting for any noise or signal that it was clear before they moved again.

Nate was very tense from the neck down, but his eyes were always looking for that sniper.

Not that he didn't know if there was one, waiting to pick him off, but darn it, the Chinese were taking pot shots at False Pass side all day and night long. At least, until the front lines started running out of ammo.

Then they tried catapulting rocks and grenades across the pass.

Then people.

Either break an arm or their neck on landing and then try to swim to Unimak Island without getting shot by the 108th Battalion.

Not very effective, but they were trying everything.

So when crossing a bridge, one of the most important points in warfare, especially one that is rigged to blow up trespassers, make sure no one knows you're doing it.

\111/

There would be Chinese scouts across from False Pass that would try to walk far north, or far south and swim across.
If the hypothermia didn't kill them, and they weren't exhausted from carrying potentially a weapon that weighed them down, ammo, food ration, a radio to communicate American activities. Not everyone was equipped equally. Some men went in their uniforms with their boots tied together and slung around their shoulders.

Death also was in front of him, the Chinese soldiers who attempted swimming across usually did so in the night.

Every once and a while, a small 160-foot boat or barge would spot the Chinese trying to swim at them. They killed the crews, and tried boating around to the backside of Morzhovoi, and picking up people, and then go around to the next island.

Only, the artillery cannons mounted atop the peaks all along the Inside Passage and Aleutian islands were very accurate.

They wouldn't let the enemy get halfway before enough artillery came slamming down on their heads to level a city block.

\111/

Crawling to the first landmine, Nate held out his combat knife and a stick. Lifting up the side delicately, he flicked the fuse off.

"You can look like me, right?"

Then Meathead took the explosive and whisked it away to the pocket dimension.

"<Yes>," Meathead replied, Nate kept crawling forward, keeping his head below the cement barriers, and the car window line.

"But no one would be able to tell the difference between us? Have you ever looked like me before?"

"<No one will be able to tell the difference, not from a visual glance anyway. It's all about mannerisms when changelings act like humans. But, yes, I have gone out into Massachusetts looking like you.>"

"When? Why?" Nate asked.

"Because, when Nora put me in the backyard, leave Codsworth on a automatic timer to putter around every few hours, then leave to go to work for six hours, eight hours, I'd get bored. But, you aren't special, I'd transform into anyone or anything while out and about. It was usually easier if I went out as Nora than you, because you've got an intimidating face.>"

"Really? How so?" Nate asked, calling back.

"<Rounded features, but straight along the chin, sides of the face, and forehead. Your ancestors didn't put up with shit from anybody, and were well fed. Stimuli to emotions are passed down genetically, same with fears, it's all just emotions. If you were getting angry about something, chances are your ancestors killed over the same matter.>"

Up onto his feet, there was a section of bridge that was completely exposed on the sides, and they needed to quickly get across it without being spotted.

"Feel anyone?"

"<Five. Two of them want us.>"

"But they don't know where we are?"

"<They know we're here, but they don't know where.>"

They crouched walked along the edge of the bridge, avoiding craters and missing patches. At one point, all there was of the bridge was two steel beams with car doors laying down across it. Quickly moving across the narrow stretch, Nate froze when he heard the scream of a rocket followed by a flare of yellow light and a contrail of smoke.

The rocket arced and crashed onto the bridge. Nate jumped as Meathead transformed and spread his wings, racing after Nate. The gas cans above ignited. The fireballs swelling up from the bridge threw long black smoke clouds into the air, followed by deafening bangs as the explosives went off. This added to the plume of smoke and fire.
Catching him as his legs hit the water, Meathead dragged him up and then was knocked back down by dregs of concrete and rubble crashing down. They slammed into the water.

Semi-automatic fire ripped into the dark green water. Nate's Pip-boy ticked away in the radioactive river, reminding them to get out sooner than later.

Wrapping his arm under Meathead's forelegs, he kicked away from the bridge as long as he could and then broke the surface and tried not to gasp for air.

"Meathead?"

"<Stim-please. My collarbone is broken.>" He said in a high tone, but calm. The pain was excruciating, but he tried to not let the suffering get to him as Nate laid back in the water and dug out a stimpak.

Pressing the needle to his neck and applying pressure, the stimpak hissed.

A flood of relief washed through Meathead, relaxing in Nate's arms as he kicked back through the water, Pip-Boy ticking all the while.

\111/

Stepping up the side of the river bank, they crawled onto the high ground by a large building built into the water, Poseidon Energy.

The large building with two large dome-shaped tanks in the Charles River was an energy turbine plant, the water passing through the tanks would turn massive paddles, connected to rotors which would spin around magnets to create an electric field and create energy. The machines capable of producing energy were sitting five feet under stagnant water. These buildings were designed with the precaution of temporary flooding and could be drained completely with the re-activation of the city's main power, that, unfortunately, sat undisturbed at Massachusetts Energy Building, the main reactor offline.
Secondary generators were running but dispersed through a fractured power grid, most appliances worked, it was the infrastructure that was like damaged circuits, electrical lines providing energy to the house were ripped up from the concrete, or torn out of the houses, or rusting away in the open air.

Nate cradled Meathead in his arms as he trudged up the embankment and into the building. He laid Meathead down and sniffed his nose.

Shaking, there was a small infestation of radioactive bugs, the size of small cats, and they flew at him. Nate grabbed a close bye fire extinguisher and was swinging it around the entrance office space like a club. Smashing the bugs into gore pastes, Nate sighed, letting go of the fire extinguisher with a loud thud.

The vault suit kept his body dry except for his hands and face, but a slight shiver went through his spine. Gripping and wringing his hands out slowly, Nate made sure there weren't any more bugs the size of small rabbits roaming around the lobby.

"Meathead. How are you feeling."

"<Rough.>"

"Is there anyone around us that wants to hurt us?" Nate asked, wiping the dripping hair out of his face,

"<Nope, we're all clear. There are some animals nearby, but they're subdued...focused on something else. Nothing that would indicate they knew we are here.>"

"Well, we rest up. I'm going to scope out the building, then see about crossing the bridge into Cambridge. We should be close to where the two mutants were watching us the day before. I'll check for their bodies too. We're a block closer to Wattz Electronics, and a block closer to BADTFL. both of them would be good candidates for taking a break, and we know from Honest Dan and Amelia that there are people at Bunker Hill."

"<What time is it?>"

"Six in the morning. I'm going to see just what I can find here, then be ready to leave. I want to get a head start on this next day, and find a real place to sleep tonight." Nate directed, nodding. He wanted a warm bed and a hot shower, and he was willing to walk all the way back to Vault 111 if he had to.

"<I want to look at the suburb North of us...> Meathead said quietly.

Nate had his back to Meathead, and he turned around. "Yeah, go ahead. Are you sneaking up there like a dog, do you want me to come along? Or are you going in a different way?" Nate inquired a slew of questions.

"<As a dog. Just a peek. I'll be safe, and teleport back here in a heartbeat if I feel anything coming for me.>"

\111/

Meathead poked his head up and over the ridgeline, passing a crowd of construction vehicles all parked on empty lots with foundations laid, or waiting to be laid, leading up the line of houses with wooden walls, insulation, windows, plumbing, and finally the painted houses showcasing the development site of West Everette Estates. Meathead smelled the air, and the pungent burnt ash of oils turning into carcinogens from being too hot in the fire.

When imagining the enemy, your enemy, the mutants did not bath as regularly as a human would, even in the post-war world. Water always being on everyone's mind, the mutants didn't need to worry about the radioactive qualities to it.

So the smell was definitely telling of their features. In the middle of West Everette Estates was a small playground, now converted into a cooking station for the twelve super mutants. Meathead saw three dogs...hounds...
They looked like dogs but were more ferocious. These mutant hounds looked like dogs who needed extra teeth to take on the Deathclaws, and weren't afraid to bark and howl their heads off at a whole plethora of Mirelurk Queens.

West Everett Estates was a super mutant den, with semi-trailers dragged to block off roads, and the massive piles of junk piled on top of it to keep people from coming in easily. The only ways to assault this place were from long distance, where Nate and Meathead stood across the river the day before, coming up off the river shore, or down the main roads. A path ran through the suburb, running south to north, leading off towards Malden.

Meathead growled and turned away. He couldn't hope to take all these super mutants on as he was right now.

From the ridge he was on, with his eyes he could follow the road into Cambridge across the bridge, and even see Wattz Consumer Electronics, and a small community basketball court next to the BADTFL building. The peak of the Bunker Hill Memorial stood upright, peaking out over the buildings. He could see lights coming from off in the distance, and for a moment his head dropped and his senses went out into the city.

He could feel life. The forces of energy conspiring to change the world and shape it, or preserve it, or control it. All these energies were conflicting, but only one of them was content like a tree in bloom, urging life to grow and rebuild out of this new world. It was Nate.

Ac-cent-uate the positive, folks.
How 'bout it?