Discovering the pip-boy lets me create daily log entries was nice, but putting the horror of the last few days – well, what feels like a few days – into words makes it even harder to deal with. After yesterday’s entry, I barely found the energy to cook the bloat fly meat I collected with Codsworth. Perhaps that was partially because the idea was so disgusting, but I do have to eat. Thankfully I found enough supplies to create a makeshift stove. It’s crude, but it gets the job done and my stomach is no longer complaining.
After cooking, I decided to move; being in our old home was just too overwhelming. I’ve set up a cozy place across the street, in that big yellow house whose paint job always drove Howard crazy because every other house in Sanctuary Hills is blue. I didn’t take much with me, a few lamps and rugs. Shawn’s crib and the only book left after this long. The mobile Howard worked so hard on is broken again. I still can’t believe they’re gone.
Everything else in my new home I pieced together myself. The tools left behind in the garage can do just about anything I need done, including creating parts. I doubt I’d be able to survive in this wasteland without them and I’ve spent the last two days scrounging for parts I can break down and use to make something more useful. Who knew those days spent tinkering with Dad on those old cars would come in use?
I can’t convince Codsworth I’ve moved, however. The old robot is damaged. I’d say he was insane from being alone for so long, but robots can’t go insane. I’ll keep trying to convince him, but so far without any success. Can’t say I’m really surprised; I found bottle caps in the dryer and no one else could have put them there.
I’ve dismantled the run down house to the east. Found a garden behind my new home with real melons growing out of the dirt. They’re probably irradiated to some extent, but I haven’t had fresh fruit in days. I’ll have to set up a way to get fresh water to keep the plants growing, maybe see if I can create a generator of some sort to get power going. There’s an old television I managed to find that probably still works. I don’t know if there’s anyone broadcasting, but after discovering that radio station I think there’s hope. A real person from someplace called Diamond City plays all the hits from 200 years ago! I’m tempted to see if I can find him, but then I wonder how hostile he’ll be. After what happened to Howard and Shawn, hearing about the people that beat poor Cogsworth with sticks…is it safe?
I know it’s safe here in Sanctuary Hills. I’ve fixed up the fences, walling the whole lot in. If there are people out there and I could trust them it would be a safe place for them, too. I’ve been thinking about trying to manufacture some better gun parts or ammunition, but I need more supplies than that. Cogsworth keeps telling me to take a walk, find some people, but I can’t bring myself to leave. Not yet. This was our home.
Cogsworth and I aren’t alone any more. I finally tore myself away from fixing up this place – it was becoming an obsession – and crossed the footbridge to the south. Boy was I surprised to find the old Red Rocket Station was still there! Even more surprising was the german shepard I found wandering around the fuel tanks. His owner must have died; maybe the man I passed on the way there who lost a fight with what looked like a giant, mutant dog? I named him Dogmeat. It seemed appropriate.
The station turned out to be a font of supplies, having barely been picked over by scavengers. I think those rabid mole rats had something to do with that. After Dogmeat and I killed them all I spent the rest of the day taking supplies back and forth. Tomorrow I’m going to see if I can’t dismantle the cars on the road between here and there, but after that…
I don’t think I’ll ever see him again, but maybe Shawn IS out there. This place is as safe as I can make it. I’ll take care of the cars, set up that generator, but then I’m going to Concord. Whoever took my baby had to have gone through there.