Maleficent
Jesus, these guys are stupid.
We'd reached Evergreen Mills in the middle of the night, and set up a nice comfy sniper's nest. I'd crept a bit further down the cliffside and scouted out a few more potential perches, just in case we decided to move during our assault – or even if we decided to leave, then come back later to pester 'em a bit more. I hadn't decided whether or not I wanted to go in – there were slaves in there I wanted to free, but I wasn't too keen on dying for them. Glad to get to work, glad to stop thinking about…fuck, just STOP.
"How many you think I can hit before they find out where I am?" I ask Charon. He's a bit more experienced with the realities of sniping. Training, programming, whatever.
"Three. Maybe four."
A bright man, wise to the wastes, would be able to find me after a shot or two. Or, at least, know enough about where I was to find adequate cover. But these were hopped-up junkies we were talking about, more chems in their veins than blood, probably.
The raiders had positioned their base in the middle of a bowl. This is gonna be like shooting fish in a barrel. Stoned fish in an irradiated barrel.
Shortly after dawn, Charon and I were quietly discussing who to shoot first, when we heard an angry bellow. Man, the acoustics of that place…you can hear out on the rim if someone cuts a loud fart.
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN, 'THEY'RE DEAD?'"
A nervous whine. "Razor, we found 'em comin' in. Two of 'em stabbed, and Ripper, well…"
"WELL, WHAT?!"
"It looked like he got in a fight with a lawnmower and lost."
I guess that would be my handiwork.
Charon looked over at me, a smirk on his face.
Well, now, we've found a winner!
I sight in on him. Without dividing my attention, I ask, "Head or gut?"
"Depends on how much fuckin' screaming you want to hear."
It oughta echo nicely. Time to feed the Darkness.
BLAM! The shot was louder than I thought it'd be, but we were out in the open – my ears would recover soon enough.
Through my scope, I watched a bloody flower blossom on Razor's shirt, just above his belly button. He fell, screaming like – well, like he'd been gut-shot.
Everyone not stoned out of their minds grabbed the nearest weapon and started looking around, screaming, making asses of themselves – pretty much what I expected. They were running around in every direction, even accusing one another of shooting him. A few of them bunched together in a tight group.
"Morons." I sighted in, shot some lucky bastard's head off. Lucky – well, relatively. I could've shot him in the gut. Razor was still screaming, albeit a bit more pitifully. It was annoying me, but fuck him. .308s were expensive, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna waste another bullet on that fucker. He'd shut up quick enough.
The other two jumped back, took off in different directions. I waited for them to settle, picked off another standing near the gate to the building's entrance. Then another, trying to creep into a rusty sheet-metal shelter.
I heard the chatter of a sub-machine gun, saw the bullets impact – a lot lower than we were, but in the right direction. "Well, four. Guess I owe you something later."
"Hmph." He gives my ass cheek a squeeze.
"Not the time, nor the place."
Charon
She's learned well. Not a round wasted.
My Angel of Death, smiting sinners from above.
"We've scared them enough. Let's wait a while, pack it in, then we'll hit 'em tonight." Sounds good to me.
Waiting…with nothing to occupy us but our thoughts. We slowly roll onto our backs, stare at the sky. We'll give 'em time to settle. The dumb shits won't even bother coming to look for us. In a little bit, we'll pack up, and get ready for tonight. Maybe take a nap. Maybe I can talk her into…nah, I don't wanna wear her out.
I'd give my right arm to know what she's thinking right now.
Maleficent
We lay and listen to the pandemonium. There's more shooting, but nothing comes close. Maybe they'll all shoot each other and save us the trouble of going down there. Nah – I'm pretty lucky, but I'm not THAT lucky.
I repress the urge to fiddle with my Pip-Boy. Nothing's changed since you looked at it last. Just four rounds lighter.
I'd do anything to not have to think about myself. Who I am. What to do.
I've never been so confused. I want to leave, just walk away from him…but I want to stay more. I'm tired of fighting the Darkness…but I'm intrigued. Who will I become if I fight it? Will I become stronger? Will I find some semblance of peace? Do I really want peace?
I've backed myself into a corner, really. There's no way to go back to the way it was. Nowhere to go but forward.
