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As soon as he found an opening, the man imprisoned inside her Pip-Boy began to speak.
Mr. House poured out information like a torrent - data, dates, names, events - everything far too quickly, as if he had waited centuries for the chance to tell that story. The girl tried to keep up, but the words tripped over one another inside her mind.
And then the name appeared. Cooper Howard. Lucy frowned immediately.
It was impossible not to recognize that name. Cooper Howard had been a familiar face throughout her childhood and adolescence inside the Vault - a heroic cowboy from the old films preserved by Hank, a symbol of the old world. A man who represented courage, humanity… hope.
Why would House be talking about him now? After all, Cooper Howard was part of history. A figure from the distant past. A man who had lived more than two hundred years before the war.
A man who should have been dead.
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Lucy stumbled - not the first time that day, but the hardest. Every step now sent sharp pain from her lower belly up her spine, a dull pulsing ache mocking her attempt to keep pace with Cooper.
He stopped without turning around. Tilted his head slightly, nonexistent nose testing the dry air.
“You’re falling behind, sweetheart.” - His voice sounded like gravel being crushed, and that damn cynical smile was back.
Lucy felt her cheeks burn, desert heat mixed with embarrassment she couldn’t suppress. She pressed her hands to her stomach, painfully aware of the dampness beneath her vault suit.

