Evergreen

Crawler awoke to the familiar but still jarring sound of Madame's screeching and the rattling of the jail-cell bars as she slammed her police baton against the cold metal.

"You filthy free-loading fleabag! Get out of there NOW!"

Crawler grinned and jumped to his feet, leaving the whore he had just spent the night with (free of charge, of course. He was handy with a screwdriver and bobby pin) lying on the stained mattress.

She smiled sultrily and winked at him. "Come back soon, baby. It's good to have someone who knows what he's doing,"

"GET OUT! OUT!" Madame screamed, swinging wildly for his head as he darted past her and out into the early morning sunshine. Evergreen Mills' brothel did not hand out freebies.

"You up to the usual then, scumbag?" jeered a voice from his left as Madame's incessant wailing disappeared behind the large metal door.

Crawler swung round and called back, "You fucking know it, Blue."

Blue was his brother in this wicked life. They'd been initiated as Raiders together, about a year and a half ago. That was when they'd earned their names. Blue because of the livid bruises that had welled up as the baseball bats crashed against his flesh, and Crawler because even when the Raiders finished beating them, he had dragged himself through the dust after them, screaming "Is that all you have, faggots?" Aside from a renewed and more vicious beating, this act had earned him a great deal of respect among the raiders.

That, coupled with leading more than a few successful raids, meant he was now held in high regard by Raiders across the Capital Wasteland and his name was spoken in the same fearful tones used when people described Smiling Jack and Grouse from Paradise Falls. His life now sure beat the hell out of his old life- being a citizen in Megaton.

Blue fell into step beside him. His Mohawk had been dyed to match his name. Blue imagined he looked intimidating; hard. Crawler thought he looked ridiculous. He'd let him know, too.

"We're on Behemoth duty today kiddo. Piece of piss."

Crawler ran a hand through his unsettling haircut. Long and wiry, it was a dirty brown colour and rather different to the other raiders. Instead of the face paint and Mohawks that most of his comrades adorned, he retained a fairly normal appearance. And it unnerved people. He was just as dangerous as any crazy here- he'd proven that much. The way he saw it, face-paint didn't kill people. His Combat Knife definitely did.

"Behemoth? Good. The big ugly never gives us any trouble does he? He knows when he is beaten." Crawler said, as he approached the giant red structure where the Super Mutant was encased. "Remember when we caught the bastard?" Blue said, a nostalgic smile on his dark face.

"Yeah I remember Blue. The fucker had me in his mouth! His teeth were about the size of a Mole Rat."

"Not as big as something else though..."

"Is that right? Because Candy in Madame's says different."

"Fuck you, dickhead."

The two raiders laughed as they lit up cigarettes, the giant yellow-skinned monster eyeing them furiously behind the crackling blue field of electricity. Crawler didn't know how smart the uglies were, but he was certain the Behemoth remembered it was Crawler who had slipped a slave collar over the top of one of the tombstone sized teeth and sent an electric shock coursing through the beast.

Super Mutants had attacked them right in their own turf, and they had barely held them off before the Behemoth arrived. Almost the first thing it had done was grab Crawler as the bullets ricocheted off of its hide. The terrifying strength almost crushed him to dust but it tossed him into the gaping black hole that was a mouth.

It had gotten more than it bargained for with Crawler.

After a massive effort involving every raider in Evergreen Mills they had dragged the beast into the giant slave pen and there it had stayed, a symbol of the growing power of the Raiders in the Capital Wasteland.

The day waned on, and the two raiders passed the time with idle banter. Three Dog mentioned their quaint little settlement a couple times on GNR, whose signal had been coming through stronger than usual recently. He hated the smug do-gooder DJ but the music wasn't bad. Better than that shit the Enclave played.

Crawler turned to give Blue some more grief about his hair when out of the corner of his eye he saw a dark blur flash past. He thought it looked like a dog.

"Blue," he murmured, nudging his friend and drawing his Assault Rifle. He nodded toward the overturned train the dog had disappeared behind. "Dog. Flank it."

"Gotcha."

They spread out; each covering a side of the train ensuring that no escape routes were left. Crawler signalled a few more of his raider buddies to be on alert. Rifles were cocked all around. He had his back to the train, and prepared to strike.

Crawler leaped out from his cover and pointed his rifle down at a German Shepherd dog that stood hackles raised, baring it's teeth at him.

He smiled. "Dogmeat for dinner."

At that moment, he noticed something change. It seemed eerily quiet, like something was missing. He looked across to Blue, who was staring in terror at something behind him.

Crawler spun, and realised that what was missing was the hum of electricity. And the Behemoth was beginning to realise that as well, as it screamed triumphantly and set its eyes on one thing- Crawler.

Bullets rang from nowhere, taking his raider friends and comrades down. A gruff voice shouted mingled oaths and sear words and a Chinese Assault Rifle roared in the night, from a man Crawler knew well from his time in Megaton. Jericho stood on a cliff top above Evergreen Mills, firing with deadly accuracy into the crowd of raiders who were scattering as the Behemoth began its rampage towards Crawler. He stood with a man whose face was obscured by the glare of the sun. This man put two fingers in his mouth and whistled

"Cr-cr-awler...!" Blue was lying on the ground, his throat torn out by the dog, which was now pelting back up the hill towards Jericho and the man who had summoned him back. Crawler turned to run towards his best friend who lay dying, but for the second time in his life found himself lifted by the massive hand of a Super Mutant Behemoth.

And this time, as he looked into the eyes of the monster he knew there was no escape. He was dead. And there was nothing he could do about.

Life sucks, then you die.

Got that right.