'These guys were serious fucking business.' Barry thought as he raced past his dying comrades.

He and his gang had been relaxing after a successful raid on some farm run by some dumbshit waste landers. Those pricks were always trying to start something out here, raising Brahmin or Mole Rats or whatever the fuck you raised out in the wastes.

At least they stocked up on food and shit, and they didn't put up much of a fight. This one even had daughters, so that counted for something. They had been back in their camp for about an hour or so, minding their own fucking business when a motherfucking missile slammed into one of their shacks, killing whichever bums had been inside.

Barry's gang was pretty damn big, with more than fifty raiders working under him and Screed, his lieutenant. They took down whichever assholes got in their way, and they had rarely been challenged by any sentient creatures in the wasteland.

So to have them be assaulted by a dozen or so attackers out of the fucking blue was a little much for Barry to handle. Barry's first reaction was another Regulator raid. Typical.

They thought themselves to be keepers of the "peace" or whatever the fuck that meant in the Wasteland. Barry thought they were inconsiderate douchebags. Every man had a right to eat, right?

All Horde raiders knew that the Regulator fuckwads were dangerous. They were a bunch of Law Bringers who wielded tough guns and preyed on raiders frequently. They only attacked in small groups though, all guerilla warfare and that shit. Barry had never seen more than six or so Regulators attacking in a group.

So why the fuck were they under attack from nearly twenty of the bastards! Barry had an answer:

These kids were not the fucking regulators!

At first Barry thought that it was Talon Company. But these kids were too young to be with those assholes. Most weren't even covered in armor.

They were too clean cut to be raiders, too vicious to be Brotherhood, too tactical to be Outcasts.

They were something entirely different. Barry wasn't afraid of no kids with guns.

At least until they mowed through his camp like a pack of Deathclaws, gunning and slashing at anything that moved. These fuckers would give those snot nosed brats from lamplight a run for their money.

There was some invisible sniper taking potshots along the rock outcropping that helped serve as a natural barrier to pests and enemies. Great help that thing was right now.

The invisible sniper was trumped in assholery by the invisible Missile Launcher, casually firing hot death into the camp every time his gang tried to regroup and form a barricade.

That was better than the gigantic man wielding a sledgehammer as if it were a toy, breaking bones with singular, one handed strikes.

Which was more merciful than the man with the killer sentry bots, whose bots both cut down raiders and ended the lives of any raider still breathing. The kid in the dress was assisting his robots in putting down any surviving raiders trying to flee the battle.

Another girl with an antique revolver was proving to be a real pain, firing off rounds faster than he could count them.

Meanwhile another girl, wielding an iron fist had an uppercut that was so strong it knocked the head off of Screed outright.

All the while a gaunt man in a business suit calmly fired off rounds from his gigantic magnum at anything still putting up a fight.

These kids meant fucking business, and Barry was going to live to fight another day against them. Avenge his gang, even. As soon as he escaped of course. Barry pushed past two raiders who were running towards the sounds of combat. Barry himself had made it to the edge of his camp, where he only had to make his way through several passages of rocks in order to escape.

He turned a corner and ran straight into the sharp end of a switchblade.

"Whoops! My bad, you raider piece of shit!" spoke his assailant who was…

A small girl with a pony tail and a baseball cap, garbed in very revealing Merc gear. The fuck?! Did this little bitch just jump him?

The girl twisted the blade, which further opened the tear in Barry's left lung. It became hard to breath after that.

With her other hand she unholstered a silenced pistol and pressed it to his temple.

"Fugggh you-"

Bang.

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