Evergreen Mills
…
"I don't know what weapons will be used in world war three, but in world war four people will use sticks and stones." - Albert Einstein
………………….
Liam walked along the tracks that were crowded with old, open boxcars. Long ago stripped of anything of obvious value, they stood forlorn and open-mouthed at the walls of the canyon. There were walkways jutting out over the tracks or even crossing over them completely. Telltale torsos hung from the metal framework. A bit further down the line the tracks split in a "Y" as the valley floor opened wide to accommodate several buildings. The main artery split to the left and the right. He noticed some non-descript shacks to the left while on the right there were several fenced pens, possibly for slaves. Above the pens a long, shambling ramp led up to a rocky prominence that overlooked the complex from the northern edge of the installation. A shack sat on top of it. Across the way sat its opposite number, a smaller shack perched on another rocky knob at the southern end of the facility. Past the slave pens were several open, dilapidated buildings and yet another pen, very heavily fortified with electrified razor wire running along the top. Looking more closely he spied two generators with wires running to the fencing. Puzzled, he stepped forward to examine the contents of the enclosure.
There was a rampart running along the top although it was secured by a locked gate. It should be noted that in a world of imperfect creatures, perhaps the most forgivable crimes are those which stem from curiosity. Liam believed that if it was indeed curiosity that killed the cat, then at least the cat had died a noble death. Armored thusly, he proceeded with a blithe disregard for his own safety.
"What the FUCK do you think you're doing?" he heard someone ask from below.
"Ah, hello. Just wondering what could be so valuable as to warrant this kind of protection." Liam responded.
"I see you managed to pick the lock on the gate." It was a woman's voice; her tone was measured and subtly menacing.
"Yes, when you travel as much as I do it helps to have a thief's skill set." he brazenly replied.
"There's nothing more dangerous than a resourceful idiot." she retorted.
She was now in plain sight, having moved to the back of the cage to a point just below Liam. She wore nondescript armor, no spikes or ornamentation and stood with her arms folded across her chest. Grey speckled not only her hair but her entire visage; only her dancing green eyes betraying her mood. A slow look of recognition spread across his face. "Maggie?" he said.
"The people you run into when you don't have a flamer handy." she grated. "Hello, Liam. Have a peek if you like, but don't say I didn't warn you." Menace retreated from her tone and amusement crept into its place.
Liam narrowed his gaze and slowly turned his head toward the interior of the cage, wondering just what she meant when the monster that was standing directly below him moved away from the wall, looked straight up into Liam's eyes and bellowed in rage.
There are three things you don't want to do when you encounter a previously unknown danger in the Wasteland. First, you don't want to wet your armor; two, you don't want to scream like a little girl and three; you should try not to fall flat on your ass. Liam managed two out of three. In his defense, the walkway was poorly constructed and even the most agile raider might have had trouble keeping his balance. Moreover, super mutants are largely unknown as far north as the Pitt. Having traveled to the Capital Wasteland before, however, Liam was not without some first-hand experience of these creatures, but he had never, ever imagined, much less seen, a creature to match the one imprisoned in the cage below him. Regardless of justification or dignity, however, the fact remained that Liam found himself on his backside, moving crablike away from the fencing and reaching for his 45.
There was no mistaking the structure now; it was a cage, meant to keep something in, not to keep others out. That something was the largest living creature he had ever seen; a super mutant Behemoth. The creature stood all of 20 feet tall and was chained at the wrists. This did not stop it from reaching for Liam in the hope of making a meal of him. Once he reached the end of his tether, however, he received a jolt of several thousand volts – enough to halt him in his tracks. He turned in sullen rage back to the center of his sad prison, sat on the ground and began gnawing at the remains of a Brahmin.
Liam blinked, climbed to his feet and made his way back down the steps.
…………….
"Good to see you again, Maggie." Liam said as he worked his way around the fence and toward the woman he hadn't seen in nearly 20 years. He smiled broadly and sent her to the ground with a surprisingly quick jab to the chin.
"That'll be 450 caps, with 20 years interest."
"You always did have a head for figures, Liam, but if I had enough Hubbucks to repay my "loan" do you think I'd be living in this old mill running this sorry bunch of psychos?" she asked, rising unsteadily.
"Running, did you say? Would that be "running" as in being in charge? The boss? Something along those lines?" Liam's brow furrowed and his brain began working overtime with this information. "Oh, and I'd be watching the obscure references, love. 'Hubbucks' might mean nothing to the average psycho, but you might not want to betray your roots to anyone with even a passing familiarity with the geography of what used to pass for a nation."
"There's no one within a hundred miles of here who has ever heard of the Hub, Liam, and even if they did it wouldn't make a difference. You've been in the east as long as I have. Don't tell me you haven't noticed. It's different here. People judge you by your actions; they couldn't care less about your background or your reputation. It's wilder here. It's every man for himself. There's no NCR; nobody cares enough to even try to organize a government. You just latch onto the biggest crew you can find, take whatever you need, and fuck the rest of the human race." Her bitterness was palpable. Perhaps she hadn't found whatever it was she was looking for when she left him all those years ago.
Before he could consider her words, however, she went on "As for the first part of your question, the answer is yes. I'm the boss of this crew. I run Evergreen Mills and don't you dare look surprised. In 20 years there's never been a successful attack on the Mills. We pick our targets carefully. The caravans are off limits so they don't hesitate to stop here. Smiling Jack runs his own shop here; we find it useful to have an in-house trader. We supply slaves to Paradise Falls and run a brothel in the Bazaar that does a booming business. We have customers from all over the wasteland."
Despite himself Liam was impressed. "What's the deal with the Behemoth?" he asked.
"That was a bet. Some of the crew had a disagreement over how much med-x it would take to put a Behemoth down. This big boy had been rampaging through the hills just north of here for a few weeks, so one night when the foundry gang had cooked up a particularly good batch of Jet they raided our medical supplies and went out after him."
"I probably shouldn't ask, but what happened next?" he asked.
"Well, they found the Behemoth about 2 miles from here and started shooting syringes loaded with med-x at him. It's pretty hard to miss a target that size, even when you're out of your mind on chems."
"So, how much med-x did they have to use to bring it down?" Liam asked doubtfully.
"All of it, and a couple of the gang who got too close, and a mole rat who distracted the beast while it was chasing the rest of the gang back to the Mills." she smiled wickedly. It finally passed out after it finished its meal. Then they managed to tie up the creature, drag him back down the tracks and put him in the pen before he woke up. Now we don't know what to do with him. We could just kill him; even a Behemoth wouldn't survive 50 or 60 raiders shooting at him from point-blank range. He eats half a Brahmin every day; enough to feed a small crew. Still, I can't help thinking that it's going to be fun to release him somewhere. Imagine if we could manage to get him onboard Rivet City?"
"Same old Maggie, always yanking my chain." he said. "At least I hope you are."
She paused for a moment, looked at him levelly and asked "So, what are you doing here Liam?"
"Well that's the real question, isn't it?"
Two month ago, or even two weeks, he wouldn't have been able to give her a truthful answer. At the Pitt, Liam lived about a mile from the mill. He found the constant industrial hum too demanding; he could never make his home on the grounds. Consequently, when the shit hit the fan he didn't learn of the coup until Wernher knocked on his door to tell him he was welcome to stay on as the chief engineer.
Liam knew Wernher when the latter was still working for Ashur. They were both important cogs in the machinery of the Pitt. The thing is, he never trusted Wernher; thought he was narcissistic, thin-skinned and way too interested in Ishmael and Sandra's kid. As soon as Wernher left, Liam packed a few necessities and took his leave. He considered going back to the West Coast; he had grown up there, with Maggie, and he had fond memories of his youth. The problem was that the reason he had left in the first place was that the times were changing even then. Power was being accumulated into the hands of the few and the only real way to make a difference was to join the new ruling class. Liam wasn't much of a joiner.
So when faced with a choice between the familiar and comfortable past and the challenge of an unknown future he really had no choice at all. Turning Horace Greely's advice on its head, he went east. The east was where he saw opportunity; the east was where he could shape the future. He had a vision of the future. He raised his chin and smiled at Maggie.
He said "I have a plan."
