The Water-Beggar
As the gates of Megaton ground shut behind her, Ellen caught sight of a figure slumped against a nearby rock. On her very first day out of the Vault, she'd encountered a man begging for clean water near the city gates. From what she remembered, his name had been Micky. He'd been pretty sick at the time, and she hadn't seen much of him after that, but someone else had eventually taken his place- and someone else after that. She'd never found out what happened to the other water beggars. From the occasional bit of Megaton gossip she'd overheard at Gob's, they'd wound up begging because they were dying of radiation poisoning anyway, and couldn't hold themselves up enough long enough to work for water that wouldn't kill them faster.
Ellen's throat tightened. Water beggars weren't supposed to exist any more. What had her father's purifier been meant for in the first place, if not to save people from a fate like this?
She almost turned back towards the city gates, thinking to grab a bottle of water from her stores (or from Wadsworth if need be). A motion caught her eye, though- a dark-skinned woman in pale Brahmin-skin clothes, approaching the beggar from the direction of Springvale. "Please," Ellen heard the beggar weakly call out to the woman, "water? Do you have any to spare? I'm so thirsty."
"Oh, poor dear," the woman said, and unslung a bag from her shoulder. "Here, I've got some water I can spare."
The beggar's trembling hands clamped around the bottle she offered him; he stared at its contents. "All of this?" he said in a voice barely above a whisper. The woman nodded. "For me? Crystal clear water... oh, bless you, madam, bless you!"
He had some trouble uncapping the bottle, but after a few tries managed to bring it to his lips. Ellen had never seen anyone swallow so much water so quickly. She half expected his stomach to reject it, the way a starving man's stomach might reject too much food. But no; he only paused for a few gasping breaths, and then raised the bottle again, draining it dry before handing it back to the woman. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you so much. I don't think I've ever tasted water this pure."
"No, bless you," the woman said with a warm smile. "I'm glad to help."
"If I can someday-" The beggar's expression changed; his voice trailed off. "Urrrgh."
"What's wrong?" the woman said, alarmed. "Are you all right?"
"Oh,"" the man said, clutching at his stomach. "Oh God-"
He doubled over, shoulders heaving, and convulsively vomited. Ellen broke into a run, but it was too late; by the time she reached him and the woman, the beggar had collapsed. Ellen pressed two fingers against the groove of his neck, but found no pulse.
She bit her bottom lip a moment, then silently closed his eyes with one hand, and started to lay him straight. "What should I do?" the dark woman wailed, wringing her hands. "He- he asked for water! I thought I was helping him, not killing him?"
Be quiet and let me finish praying for this poor man, Ellen thought irritably, but aloud all she said was, "Slow down. What happened, exactly?"
"I just gave him some water I picked up on the way through Springvale," the woman said. "It tasted pure, and it looks clean- how was I supposed to know?"
"Just because it looks clean doesn't mean it's not harboring something," Ellen murmured. "You found the water in Springvale? Where?"
"I didn't find it- the man at the monastery in Springvale gave it to me," the woman said. "It's supposed to be holy water. The man said it was blessed!"
Ellen glanced up from the beggar's corpse. "The man?" she echoed.
"He gave me this pamphlet," the woman said, holding out a piece of tattered paper. Her hand was shaking almost as badly as the beggar's had. "Along with the water. Called himself Brother Gerard. He's on the road through Springvale... I don't know if it'll help but I don't know what else I can do! I never meant to kill him!"
"You can help me bury him, at least," Ellen said. "It won't-"
But the woman wasn't listening, only staring in horror at the corpse. "I can't stay here," she said. "Not after something like that." And before Ellen could say anything else, the woman spun on one heel and ran, the flailing run of someone who had no idea where they were going, only that it was somewhere other than here.
Ellen's throat tightened. Water beggars weren't supposed to exist any more. What had her father's purifier been meant for in the first place, if not to save people from a fate like this?
She almost turned back towards the city gates, thinking to grab a bottle of water from her stores (or from Wadsworth if need be). A motion caught her eye, though- a dark-skinned woman in pale Brahmin-skin clothes, approaching the beggar from the direction of Springvale. "Please," Ellen heard the beggar weakly call out to the woman, "water? Do you have any to spare? I'm so thirsty."
"Oh, poor dear," the woman said, and unslung a bag from her shoulder. "Here, I've got some water I can spare."
The beggar's trembling hands clamped around the bottle she offered him; he stared at its contents. "All of this?" he said in a voice barely above a whisper. The woman nodded. "For me? Crystal clear water... oh, bless you, madam, bless you!"
He had some trouble uncapping the bottle, but after a few tries managed to bring it to his lips. Ellen had never seen anyone swallow so much water so quickly. She half expected his stomach to reject it, the way a starving man's stomach might reject too much food. But no; he only paused for a few gasping breaths, and then raised the bottle again, draining it dry before handing it back to the woman. "Thank you," he said. "Thank you so much. I don't think I've ever tasted water this pure."
"No, bless you," the woman said with a warm smile. "I'm glad to help."
"If I can someday-" The beggar's expression changed; his voice trailed off. "Urrrgh."
"What's wrong?" the woman said, alarmed. "Are you all right?"
"Oh,"" the man said, clutching at his stomach. "Oh God-"
He doubled over, shoulders heaving, and convulsively vomited. Ellen broke into a run, but it was too late; by the time she reached him and the woman, the beggar had collapsed. Ellen pressed two fingers against the groove of his neck, but found no pulse.
She bit her bottom lip a moment, then silently closed his eyes with one hand, and started to lay him straight. "What should I do?" the dark woman wailed, wringing her hands. "He- he asked for water! I thought I was helping him, not killing him?"
Be quiet and let me finish praying for this poor man, Ellen thought irritably, but aloud all she said was, "Slow down. What happened, exactly?"
"I just gave him some water I picked up on the way through Springvale," the woman said. "It tasted pure, and it looks clean- how was I supposed to know?"
"Just because it looks clean doesn't mean it's not harboring something," Ellen murmured. "You found the water in Springvale? Where?"
"I didn't find it- the man at the monastery in Springvale gave it to me," the woman said. "It's supposed to be holy water. The man said it was blessed!"
Ellen glanced up from the beggar's corpse. "The man?" she echoed.
"He gave me this pamphlet," the woman said, holding out a piece of tattered paper. Her hand was shaking almost as badly as the beggar's had. "Along with the water. Called himself Brother Gerard. He's on the road through Springvale... I don't know if it'll help but I don't know what else I can do! I never meant to kill him!"
"You can help me bury him, at least," Ellen said. "It won't-"
But the woman wasn't listening, only staring in horror at the corpse. "I can't stay here," she said. "Not after something like that." And before Ellen could say anything else, the woman spun on one heel and ran, the flailing run of someone who had no idea where they were going, only that it was somewhere other than here.