In spite of what he'd expected, Decks couldn't help but be surprised by the kick of the anti-material rifle in his hand. He was even more surprised though, when the deathclaw mother got back up. The bullet had punched clean through her, leaving a bloody red hole in her chest the size of a baseball.
And now she was back up, and she was charging him. So Decks did what any trained professional would do, he dropped the rifle and bolted. He practically flew up the rock face, finally scrambling over a ledge and rolling onto his back where he lay, panting. Could deathclaws climb? He hadn't seen them climb before, and they looked too big and cumbersome to make their way up to him.
On the other hand, they'd also looked too big and cumbersome to move as fast as they did. So Decks risked a cautious peek over the side of the ledge, and almost laughed with relief. She wasn't following him; instead she was pacing around below in a rage.
"Boone, any assistance you could provide would be very nice." He calmly spoke into his pip-boy's radio.
"One sec." Came the gravely reply. A second later, a trio of shots rang out. The deathclaw jerked in rage as three of .308 rounds hit her smack-dab in the back. She whipped around and charged at Boone, near the other side of the quarry. Decks wasted no time in sliding down the rock face and picking up his fifty.
Raising the big gun to his eye, he leaned back and rested the gun on his knee to stabilize it. He squinted down the sight, lined the crosshair right on the back of the retreating monster, and fired.
The recoil shoved him back into the cliff but he worked the bolt and fired again, and then again. The huge creature buckled and staggered forward, collapsing into the ground with a bone-rattling roar of pain.
Decks leaped from his perch and ran towards the deathclaw. It was face down on the ground, moaning but not moving.
"Musta shot clean through the spine." Decks observed, kicking the deathclaw's leg. No response except for another grow came from the creature. This prompted a grin from the courier, who cheerfully patted it on the haunch before looking up to see Boone, who was already on his was over there.
"Wipe that idiotic grin off your face, this is your fault and you know it."
"Aw chill off Boone, I mentioned there might be a few deathclaws here before we started this."
"You call that a few?"
"Well, depending on your point of view, this could technically classify as a few." Decks tried explain. Boone just stared into him. "Ok, fine. It's my fault, happy now?"
"No I'm not. We got attacked by an ass-load of deathclaws and I must have shot off a hundred caps worth of bullets, and I'll be damned if I'm going to pay for them, Decks." The courier gave up and slid out his .44 with a sigh.
"Look, if it'll make you any happier, you can shoot it." He pointed the butt toward Boone, who snatched it away and marched toward the moaning monster, and shot it twice in the eye. It expired without another sound, the gunshots echoing through the quarry.
They both just stood there for a while, fixated on the dead creature. Then, Boone came back and gave Decks back the pistol. The courier reloaded and holstered it, then gave the corpse a pondering look. He stepped back, framing the head with his hands. "Ya know, this would look really good mounted back at the Lucky 38. All I need is a volunteer to carry it back-hey Boone? Boone come back here!" It was useless, the sniper was stalking off and no amount of pleading was going to get him back.
Decks gave him a despairing look as he walked away, then sighed and took off after him.