The Cloud

"You've heard of the Sierra Madre Casino. We all have, the legend, the curses. Foolishness about it lying in the middle of the City of the Dead, buried beneath a blood-red cloud. A bright, shining monument luring treasure hunters to their doom. . ."

Part I: The Cloud, the Collar, and the Key

The cloud filled up the tunnel in front of Kiera. A blood red, billowing wall of death. Kiera could smell it. Taste it. A faint hint of sulfur and asphalt mixed with aerosoled copper and lye. It decayed everything it touched, eating through metal, leather, rubber, skin, and exposed flesh all the same. Although no one knew where the cloud had come from, it had hung over the Sierra Madre Casino ever since the Great War.

Another ghost of the Old World that refused to dissipate.

Kiera's explosive collar dug into her neck. Its steel was always cold and a bit too tight on her skin. She swore there must be little teeth on its inner lining, as she couldn't rotate the collar or adjust it. It was a part of her now. A cancer that could kill her at any moment with a single, sickening beep.

The key is. . .the key is. . .

The map of the Sierra Madre the old man had given Kiera was of little help in finding her way around. It depicted the streets as they had been before the war; not the twisted, crumbling mess they were now. Most alleyways had become dead ends, blocked off by mountains of rubble. Concentrated pockets of the noxious cloud filled every courtyard. Unmarked, rickety catwalks linked some of the otherwise inaccessible areas, but they were almost always rigged with bear traps, trip wires, and other booby traps.

And then there were the ghost people. . .

The thought of them made Kiera shudder. She looked up from the map, and eyed the cloud-filled tunnel.

It must be through there.

There was only one key that would open the gate to Salida del Sol, and one of Kiera's unfortunate forerunners had taken it with him down that tunnel before succumbing to the cloud. The old man said his body should still be in the courtyard at the other end. The cloud would have leeched away his clothes and skin, leaving behind a jumbled pile of bleached bones. . .and the key.

Kiera didn't know why the old man wanted the key to Salida del Sol. It was probably just one more thing that needed to be done to open up the Sierra Madre's vault. Kiera didn't know what lay inside of that vault either. The old man hoarded all of that information and didn't let any of it slip out. All she knew was that if she didn't do his bidding, he would detonate her collar, and get another unwary scavenger to pick up where she'd left off.

While the old man, one of his lackeys, or the Sierra Madre itself, had stripped Kiera of all of her gear upon entry, she still had one piece of her past. A silver, heart-shaped locket that hung around her neck. She had found it in Freeside, lying in a gutter, and had kept it as a good luck charm. She kissed it and ran into the tunnel, into the swirling, red cloud of death.

Kiera's footsteps echoed off the tunnel walls. She was holding her breath while running at a jog. The cloud burned her eyes. Tears streamed down from them, blurring her vision. Her skin felt hot - blistery - like she was covered in hot sand.

The tunnel ended in an open courtyard, which was also blanketed by the cloud. In her panic, Kiera thought she heard a ghost person.

Ghost people were horrible, semi-humanoid things in hazmat suits. They had glowing eyes and moved sideways like crabs. You could always tell that they were in the area by the noises they made when they breathed. It sounded like they were choking in their gas masks.

Kiera scanned the courtyard, but didn't see any of the abominations. She could barely see anything but an overwhelming red blur. She ran her fingers along the courtyard's outer wall so she didn't get lost in the cloud. Her breath was running out. Her lungs ached. She took in the shallowest breath possible. The air tingled on her tongue and throat like harsh whiskey. As she was about to turn back, she stepped on something that snapped.

A pile of bones clothed in soiled rags lay at Kiera's feet. She had stepped on a femur, cracking it in half. Without a second thought, she huddled over the remains, tearing through them in search of the key. Her eyes now stung so badly, she had to close them. She felt for the key by hand, and finally found it deep inside of the skeleton's ribcage. She grabbed the key, stood up, and touched the wall behind her, using it as a life line to find her way back.

A ghost person hacked somewhere in the omnipresent red. Kiera was sure she had heard it this time, but she had no time to react. She was about to pass out. She inhaled a lungful of cloud and sprinted back towards the tunnel. Everything felt like it was on fire now; her eyes, her lungs, her skin. She could see nothing but could tell she had entered the tunnel by the echoes of her footsteps. There wasn't enough air in her lungs to make it to the other end. She took one more breath of noxious cloud and emerged from the tunnel, gasping, shaking.

Kiera still couldn't see. She felt dizzy. She collapsed onto the macadam at the end of the tunnel, just past the cloud, and vomited. Over and over again. It felt like she had been poisoned. When she was done throwing up, she turned over onto her back, and began to cough, staring up at the sky.

The stars weren't visible overhead, only the cloud. Kiera couldn't tell if it was day or night. The cloud made them look the same. She madly clawed at her eyes, trying to wipe away the pain so she could see. Her vision began to return, the buildings towering over her slowly took shape. She suppressed her coughing fit and closed her eyes, trying to calm down.

I got it. . .I got it. . .I can go back now. . .

Something grabbed Kiera's left leg. A cold, rubber glove.

Kiera shrieked. Her scream echoed off the buildings and into the tunnel. She could barley see, but knew that a ghost person was standing over her. It tightened its grip on her ankle and began to drag her back into the tunnel. Into the cloud.

"Nooo! Please! Pleease!"

Kiera frantically kicked the ghost person's hand, but the creature seemed immune to pain. Her clothes scraped across the blacktop, and she was enveloped by the cloud once more. Blindly, she reached into her jumpsuit pocket and pulled out a pistol she had salvaged from the Villa beyond. She couldn't see the ghost person. She couldn't see anything but the cloud. She aimed where she thought the creature must be and emptied all six chambers into the swirling red.

The ghost person let go of Kiera. She scrambled back towards the open street on her hands and knees, coughing, crying. Ghost people were hard to kill. Bullets wouldn't do the job. You needed to hack off their limbs. Kiera was sure the creature wasn't dead. She had to escape. She emerged from the cloud and crawled down the street. The pain and dizziness were unbearable. She dry heaved, and more stomach acid dribbled down her lips.

There was a small house about twenty feet down the road. Kiera clawed her way across the black top, over to its front steps. She needed somewhere to hide from the ghost people. Somewhere to rest. Sleep. She knew she was going to pass out at any moment from exposure to the cloud.

The front door was locked. Kiera banged on it frantically and scraped her fingernails across the wood, like a cat trying to escape the rain. The door didn't budge. It felt so stiff it must have been barricaded shut from the other side.

For whatever reason, the utter hopelessness of the situation made Kiera giggle. She laughed for a moment and then whimpered, slowly slipping into unconsciousness on the cold front steps.