Author Note: Thank you to Ragingceliac for their wonderful, encouraging review. I live for such feedback. Also, thanks to all of you that have favorited or followed this story. It's rewarding to know that people are enjoying my work.
Chapter Eight
Northwest Seneca Station was a day's journey from Megaton, a mile or so past the small settlement of Arefu. Lucy West's hometown overlooked the remains of the Potomac river from its precarious perch on a fragment of interstate high above the dusty hills of the Wasteland. When Lyra and Jericho passed near the ramp leading up towards the settlement, they heard a yell. A grenade came flying past them and before she thought about it, Lyra cursed and shoved Jericho out of the way.
"What the fuck, Lyra?" Jericho shouted, but Lyra wasn't behind him anymore. Diving into a nearby ditch, she covered her head with her arms just as the grenade exploded and dirt and rocks flew everywhere.
With the explosion echoing through the hot air, Lyra raised her head, shaking dust from her hair. There was the sound of a gun cocking and Jericho's angry shouting, and Lyra looked over to see her companion stomping up the ramp towards Arefu.
"Goddammit! What the hell d'you think you're fuckin' doing throwing a damn grenade at us? I oughtta shove a grenade up your fuckin' ass, Evan King!"
The man came down to meet the ex-Raider, hand on his own gun. When Lyra got up from her ditch and joined Jericho on the ramp, Evan's hand relaxed on his firearm.
"Sorry 'bout that. I wasn't sure who the hell was coming through. We've had a lot of strange shit goin' on and I ain't takin' no chances. Glad to see it's just y'all though," the old man said.
"I don't give a rat's ass what's goin' on around here, you pull some shit like that again and I'll put you in the ground." Jericho growled, hand still taut on his own piece.
Evan King looked apologetically at Lyra. Lyra nodded at him, a grim smile on her face. She knew him from her days walking from caravan point to caravan point with her family. "You doin' alright, Lyra?"
She nodded. "I'm fine, Evan. What's goin' on that's got you this spooked?"
He shook his head, looking around. "Nothing I care to talk about out here. There's been some deaths, that's all I'll say. Some strange folk's been wandering around these parts. Where y'all headed anyway?"
"None of your business, ol' man." Jericho snarled, no doubt out of sorts about having a grenade thrown at his head. Lyra rolled her eyes.
"We're headin' to Seneca Station, got some business to take care of over there. You got any idea who we might run into?"
Evan sighed, taking off his cap and scratching his gray, balding head. "Watch yourself out that way. Been some raiders hanging out near the old store at Seneca, some ghouls too...but there's no tellin' if the ghouls are brain-eaters or not. I wouldn't trust any of 'em myself."
"Raiders, huh?" Lyra looked over at Jericho. "I think the two of us can handle them well enough. The ghouls...well, we'll see when we get there." She turned back to Evan King. "We need to be on our way, Evan. Sun's getting lower in the sky and we want to make it to the station before dark, especially if these strange folks you're talkin' about are hanging around."
He nodded, brow furrowed. "Well, I suppose you do need to head on then. Feel free to stop by again on your way back...might just have some caps for you, if you want to take care of our...uh, stranger problem."
"Shit no." Jericho spoke up beside her. "I ain't no hero...and if Lyra wants to play one, she can do it on her own fuckin' time."
Lyra pursed her lips, but nodded her head to Evan. Turning on her heel, she started down the ramp. It took her a few feet to realize that Jericho wasn't right behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see Jericho speaking in low, rough tones to the other man. Evan King's face had turned pale beneath his tan and she frowned in spite of herself.
"Fuck, Jericho." She snapped, catching his attention. "You comin' or not? Give Evan a break and move your ass already, before he decides to throw another damn grenade at your head."
The ex-Raider flipped her off, but left Evan alone.
Soon as they were off the ramp and on their way again. Lyra had put the whole incident behind her, but when they were veiled in the great shadow of the highway overpass, a hand grabbed the leather of her jacket and jerked her around. She found Jericho's red face pushed into her own.
"Listen, bitch," he growled. Lyra found a knife at her throat a second later, the edge of the blade kissing the skin under her jaw. "You ever act like that again, I'll cut your fuckin' throat. I don't bow down to you or anyone else, you got me? If I want to put a bullet in King's head, I will and there's not a damn thing your ass can do about it."
Lyra didn't blink. She was used to Jericho's threats, but the bite of the knife was something one took seriously, no matter who was holding it to your throat.
"Sorry, Jericho." She muttered, not feeling sorry in the slightest. "I was just tired of hearing that paranoid old fool's bullshit. And we needed to get on the move again."
"Well, you just remember your place. 'Cause I ain't telling you again."
"Damn, alright. Just chill out."
He let her go after that and stalked forward, leaving her to catch up to him. They walked another hour or so in thick silence. Meanwhile, the sun continued to move across the sky and the shadows around them started to lengthen. When it had just reached the horizon, they crested a hill and looked down on the Northwest Seneca Station. The glow of fire could be seen below, to the left of the stairwell leading down into the station.
Lyra cursed quietly to herself when an human outline, lit from behind by the glowing fire, crossed in front of the stairwell into the shop nearby.
"Raiders." She said, already pulling her rifle from her shoulder.
#####
The sun had disappeared behind the tall metal walls and the interior of the town was growing darker by the minute. If Caleb was surprised at how bright the outside world was, it held no comparison to the darkness he was beginning to experience as the sun set. He hurried along the ramps, only managing to keep his balance by keeping his good hand on the rails as he jogged.
He'd been to the water processing plant to talk to the old man, Walter, and he had needed help with the pipes in town. Caleb was more than willing to help patch a few leaky pipes, as he'd done similar patchwork in the Vault, but when Walter mentioned the impending sunset and that it was best they start the next day, he'd dismissed Caleb promptly and practically shoved him out the door.
Standing there, confused, on the landing outside the plant, Caleb found himself on one of the highest tiers of the town and could see the sun easing itself behind the distant, rocky mountains. It was the first sunset he'd ever seen and the colors filling the sky were magnificent – all burnished orange, fiery red, and gold – and chasing behind those brilliant hues was a depth of shade he only imagined.
The coming of night.
Seeing it, Caleb remembered how Lyra still hadn't returned and he wondered, looking out into the distance revealed by his higher vantage point, where in that great expanse she might've been and what she was doing. And if she would return. It was foolish, he knew, to have grown so attached to a stranger...but to be left here, injured and in pain, in a town so unlike what he was used to, with people he didn't know and wasn't sure he could trust, had proved more frightening than his frantic exodus from the Vault.
Caleb lost his footing and fell hard onto the metal grating of the ramp. His glasses skittered across the ramp. Tears filled his eyes and his injured arm struck the metal and he felt the rush of wet warmth that hinted he might've broken a stitch. Cursing, he tried to get to his knees, struggled to get purchase on the railing so he could haul himself up.
"Hey, are you okay?" The voice was young, feminine, the voice of a girl. He glanced up, squinting without his glasses, and saw a small figure kneeling down beside him. "I think you dropped these."
A hand reached out and he saw she held his glasses. Taking them eagerly, he put them on his face and saw a little girl staring at him. Her straight, black hair brushed her shoulders and around the crown of her head was tied a pink bow.
"Thank you." He said, surprised to see a child. She was the only child he'd seen so far in Megaton, and she looked healthy. "I fell, but I'm okay."
"But you're bleeding."
"Am I?" Caleb looked down and as he'd suspected, the clean bandages encircling his arm were spotted with blood. He grimaced and got to his feet. "Looks like it, huh?"
"Do you need help? I saw you running before...did something scare you?"
Caleb was at a loss. What was a little girl doing out here by herself? Where were her parents?
"It's okay to be scared, you know." The little girl continued. "My new dad said so. His name is Billy. I was going to find him….do you want to come too? Maybe if we walk together, you won't be scared anymore."
"Y-yeah, okay." Caleb said, wincing a little as he rose completely to his feet. He looked down at the little girl, who smiled at him. "Where were you going to find him?"
"Moriarty's place. He always goes there to visit Nova. I don't know really know why, but he seems to like her a lot."
"Then I guess I'll come too. What's your name? Mine's Caleb."
"I'm Maggie. Come on, Caleb. It's not far from here."
So Caleb, in pain and with nothing better to do, followed a small girl through the darkened street, up another ramp, where they stopped at the door of a two story building with a large sign announcing 'Moriarty's Saloon'. His earlier conversation with Lucas Simms came to mind. He wondered if this Moriarty had any more information about his father's whereabouts than Moira did.
Maggie, his small companion, took his hand and smiled at him as she pulled the door of the building open. As they passed through it, the smell of stale beer and loud, raucous laughter met his ears. Even more surprising, he heard static-filled music underneath the general din of the place. Caleb looked around with interest. He wondered which of the people in here was this Moriarty.
"Hey Gob!"
"Hey Maggie," a raspy, damaged voiced greeted. "You lookin' for Billy?"
The little girl at his side dropped his hand and ran forward. He watched her as she jumped with obvious enthusiasm onto one of the bar stools, but when he saw who she was speaking to he felt his stomach drop in horror. The man she was speaking to didn't have a face...or rather, what face he did have was...disfigured. Horribly disfigured. There was only misshapen lumps, raw edges, the outline of cartilage where a nose should've been..and eyes that had filmed over from...blindness? It was hard to say.
"Yeah, is he here?" Little Maggie said brightly, unaffected. "I brought a new a friend, his name is Caleb." Looking over her shoulder, she smiled at him. The man – Gob – looked over at him too.
"I see. You comin' in or not, smoothskin?"
"W-what happened to your face?" Caleb blurted, unable to help himself. Maggie lost her smile.
"Caleb, don't be mean to Gob! He's my friend!"
"Yeah, what's a matter?" Gob asked, expression far more guarded than it had been a moment ago. "You never seen a ghoul before or what?"
"I'd go with 'or what'." Another voice said. Caleb looked over and saw another young woman, probably Moira's age, staring at him. Her long blond hair was pulled back from her face in a ponytail. "You must be new here, judging from that shocked look on your face. Come sit down. I don't think you'll be welcome at the bar now."
"I-I didn't mean-" Caleb stumbled over his words. The woman waved her hand.
"Doesn't matter...just make sure you don't make that face or say anything around Lyra. Her and Gob are closer than people are comfortable with...and she'd just as soon punch you in the face than hear someone say something mean to Gob. I've seen her do it."
"Lyra?" Caleb repeated, walking over to the table where the woman sat. "Are you two friends or-?"
A strained look passed over the woman's face. It took a minute too long for her to answer. "Ha, not really. The way she hangs around with that asshole prick Jericho is enough to make me sick, but I don't...hate her or anything. How do you know her?"
Caleb sat down, wincing as the motion jarred his aching arm. "She helped me. Out there..in the Wastes. She brought me here and got me to Doc Church's."
"Well then, she's better than I give her credit for...still don't trust her too much. Once a raider, always a raider, if you ask me. Turning over a new leaf only lasts so long with some of them."
#####
Both Jericho and Lyra, lying prostrate on the ground, looked down their sights towards the group of raiders below. From what they had observed in the last hour, as the sun left the sky and bathed the land in shadow, there were at least a half dozen raiders and none of them seem particularly well-armed. Not only that, they all looked sickly, malnourished.
"Let's just go in there and fuckin' kill 'em." Jericho whispered, just loud enough for Lyra to hear him. "They all look like they're half-dead anyway. What's the problem?"
"It doesn't feel right. They ain't watchin' hard enough. We know how it is, Jericho. It don't matter if you're swingin' the biggest damn stick in the yard or not, you never let your guard down. You give someone some Jet and send their asses on patrol."
"You're overthinking it. They look like shit and they're weak. They're about to see just how weak when I go down there and crack some fuckin' skulls."
Lyra sighed, a small puff of air from her lips.
"I say we wait and sneak up on 'em when they're asleep. Slit their throats and then take care of the rest."
There was some commotion down below. Lyra and Jericho instinctively pressed themselves down as close to the ground as possible and kept quiet. There was the sound of struggle, some yelling. They both peeked out over their guns. Lyra's eyes widened as she saw two ghouls, their arms bound behind them being forced up the metro station's steps by a trio of much heavier, fitter-looking raiders, then tossed unceremoniously to the ground.
"Shit." She hissed, watching with a twitching trigger finger as the two were dragged back up and shoved in the direction the general store. "That's them."
"Who?"
"The people we're supposed to be doin' business with...contact said two ghouls. They're the ones who can make the chem – the Ultra-jet. Bastards are down there harassin' our cash cows."
"You mean to tell me we're draggin' our asses all the way out here for a couple of fuckin' zombies?" Jericho hissed back.
"They know their stuff, dammit." Lyra fired back. "And they can make us rich, if we play our cards right. But shitload of good it does us if those assholes down there kill 'em. We gotta get down there, but we gotta do this quiet."
"Fuck that." Jericho snapped, jumping up from his place on the hill. "I say we go now." And just like that, Jericho was gone. Racing down the hills, the ex-Raider brought up his combat shotgun and started firing. Lyra had time to curse, then she was aiming down her sights, finger on the trigger.
The raiders down below were taken by surprise. For a couple of seconds, the majority of them froze or ducked down low, looking for the source of the noise and the gunfire. Then one of the ones with the ghouls reached behind them and pulled a hunting rifle from their back. Lyra didn't think, she just aimed and shot.
The raider aiming for Jericho went down, a round of .556 bullets in their torso. The sudden drop of one of their biggest guys motivated the other raiders and then it was on. Jericho finally got within skull-cracking range and blew the leg out from under the closest raider and the woman went down with a spray of dark blood and a howl of agony.
The two ghouls, seeing that their captures were under attack, stumbled sideways, trying to get out of the line of fire. Another two raiders, pulling knives from their armor, went for Jericho again and Lyra fired again, moving her barrel in a steady line – both raiders took a shot apiece, but it merely slowed them down. Cursing again, Lyra jumped up from her place in the dirt and ran down the hill herself, offering another target.
She fired as she went, spraying the ground with bullets and keeping them moving, off balance. Hearing the loud boom of Jericho's shotgun, she saw another scream as he blew a hole through another's chest.
One of the bigger raiders, more armored than the rest and cleverer it seemed, came towards her the moment her rifle chose to jam. Not having the time to fool with the rifle release, Lyra dropped her assault rifle and went for the knife in her boot.
A loud scream cut through the air as the raider lunged towards her, the barest gleam of a blade her only warning as to the danger, she narrowly avoided the high horizontal sweep of the blade and got behind the raider's shoulder. Hand on their arm, she pushed the swing farther, unbalancing her attacker as she brought her own blade up and in between the raiders ribs. Or she would have, if the leather armor he'd worn hadn't had metal behind it. Her blade squealed and slide as it hit the metal, tearing through the leather, but not penetrating the plate.
"Fuck," she cursed and switched tactics. She lifted a foot and brought it down on their knee. It gave with a sickening crack as she broke it.
Another couple of booms as Jericho shot again, but Lyra paid no attention. As soon as the raider in front of her was down, they swung their blade again, catching lower part of her leg. Pain blossomed as it cut into her flesh and she cried out, falling to her knee as her leg buckled.
Another boom and the raider's head exploded, spraying her with blood, bone and brains. Tears filled her eyes and she tried to stand up again, finding it near impossible. She felt her boot slide as blood ran down her leg inside of it.
In the darkness, broken only by the ruddy orange glow of the burning trashcans, she saw the one of the two ghouls descend on another raider while the other cowered in fear. The angry ghoul beat and kicked the raider until he no longer moved, his face a mass of blood and gore. Jericho, in his element and filled with adrenaline, made short work of the remaining two and they joined their other friends bleeding in the dirt. Her ears ringing from the gunfire, her entire left leg on fire from the knee down, Lyra limped and cursed her way towards Jericho and the two ghouls.
"You two brain-eaters is lucky we came along," Jericho was saying, standing in front of the ghouls in question with his shotgun aimed and ready. "If we hadn't been scoping out this place ourselves, you might've been killed. Or worse, sold as fuckin' cattle in Paradise Falls."
"Is that right, smoothskin?" One of the ghouls sneered, the blood of the raider he'd beaten to death spatted on his clothing and on his ravaged face. "What makes you think you're any better than these assholes right here?"
"'Cause we're alive." Lyra supplied. "And they're nothing but radroach food…"
"You don't do something about that leg of yours and you'll be joinin' them soon enough," The second ghoul, dressed in a grimy white shirt, said. He stepped around his friend and looked at her with concern. "You took a blade to the leg. I saw it."
Jericho glanced her way. "You hurt?"
She nodded.
"Shit." He said, turning his head and spitting violently on the ground. "I thought you got that son of a bitch before he got you."
"You thought wrong." Lyra said, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. "You can make it up to me by givin' me that stimpak in your bag and gettin' me my fuckin' Buff-out before I pass out."
She glanced at the ghouls. "And as for you two...I got some business I need to work out with you, if I don't bleed to death."
"We have some medical supplies inside. I'm not a doctor, but I have pretty decent first aid skills." White Shirt said.
"Murphy, don't give that shit to them."
"If we don't, they'll probably just take it anyway Barrett. You," The ghoul, Murphy, addressed Jericho. "You think you can untie us now?"
"You try anythin' funny," Jericho said, walking towards him. "I'm blowin' a hole through your friend first and then you..."
"Understood." He replied, then cast a sideways glance at his friend. "Barrett, not a thing."
"Fine, but if you ask me, these two can kiss my rotten ass."
Lyra, feeling her grip on reality tetter a little, laughed. It sounded crazed...even to her own ears. "You two make the pain stop, I'll kiss both your asses."
