DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OR ANYONE IN THE FALLOUT UNIVERSE. ONLY MY OCS.
(For the record, because of it's French heritage, some names in Louisiana are NOT said as they are spelled. For Example: Natchitoches is pronounced Nach-i-tah-sh. Chopin is pronounced Show-pan.)
Please let me know if you would like a pronounciation of any difficult to say names or places.
Chapter 9: Hell's Highway
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Date: April 19, 2285
Location: The Overpass
Time: 0925 hours (9:25 A.M.)
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Drew felt the Transport slow to a stop as Emily readied her transit papers for the Overpass guards. One of the men came aboard and then inspected the cargo. The man looked over the cargo and then nodded.
"Alright Ms. Coleson, you are clear for transit. Just for the logs though, what are your destinations?" Emily answered promptly.
"First off, we're going to Flatwoods, then to Chopin, and finally to Boyce where I'll then be scheduling a return trip direct for Natchitoches." The guard nodded and then gazed at Drew and smiled.
"Oh, so YOU'RE one of the new gunners for Ms. Coleson, eh? Well, I'll say this ma'am, you can't do much better." Emily and Macy looked at the man confused and he elaborated.
"This fellow here, when we were attacked a few days ago, picked up one of our heavy machineguns and single-handedly charged the raiders, gun a-blazing. Took not only the raiders by surprise but our own men as well. Took 'em a good bit to get their wits about them and charge over the barricade to help him out." Drew could not notice Macy's astonished glance at him as the guard just smiled on.
"Oh, speakin' of which, your friends Red Eagle and Jaques? They went on a scouting mission in response to reports about raiders near Flatwoods. Just keep an eye out for 'em is all I'm saying."
Emily nodded and the guard waved an 'all-clear' signal to the man in the guardhouse who lifted the barricade and allowed the vehicle to start moving again.
When they were safely on I49, Drew somehow sensed that Macy was looking at him. He turned to see her sitting at her post in the rear gunner's seat with a rather frightening expression.
"So... our little Drew Drew is a HERO now, eh? A big ol' hero who single handedly saved the Overpass from a Raider attack, yet couldn't keep my little brother from getting his head lopped off."
Drew wanted to turn away but felt he couldn't and sighed.
"The fight at the Overpass didn't have to happen you know? Those raiders had said they were only there for ME. The people could have turned me over to them and then continued on their merry way as if nothing had happened. I know the raiders wouldn't have done it but still, the people could have just let them have me and then it would have been Sarge to tell you about Will's death AND mine."
Drew knew it was a rotten thing to say but at the moment he wanted some peace and quiet. All the way from the depot in Natchitoches to the Overpass guardhouse Macy had done nothing but jab at him and everything but outright curse him for Will's death.
Nevertheless, it had the desired effect. Macy's expression changed and she whipped around in her chair and gave her sole focus on the gun in front of her.
The layout of the Transport was rather simple yet effective. Emily, being the driver, sat in a heavily armored 'box' that surrounded her and protected her and which could only be opened from the inside. Next to her box was the engine hatch and the seat for the mechanic and Emily's second who helped her navigate, load and unload cargo, and generally kept the Transport running.
Drew sat in the exact center of the vehicle and, should the Transport be attacked, he would man the machinegun housed in an open turret on the roof.
Behind him was the red-painted locker for large cargo, across from him was the blue painted lockers for small cargo. Then at the rear was the machinegun which Macy manned and next to her was a green colored compartment that held ammo for both machineguns.
Out of boredom, Drew read the loading chart near him to discern the vehicle's capacity.
CLASS 3 TRANSPORT
CARGO CAPACITY: 18 UNITS
FUEL CAPACITY: 23 GALLONS
CARGO LEGEND (LARGE LOCKUP):
FOOD CRATE: 1 UNIT
WEAPON CRATE (SMALL): 1 UNIT
WEAPON CRATE (MEDIUM): 2 UNITS
WEAPON CRATE (LARGE): 3 UNITS
AMMO CRATE (SMALL): 1 UNIT
AMMO CRATE (MEDIUM): 2 UNITS
CARGO LEGEND (SMALL LOCKERS):
SMALL MEDICAL BOX: 1 UNIT
MEDIUM MEDICAL BOX: 2 UNITS
There was a small memorandum under the writing that 'reminded' drivers not to exceed 50 mph unless in case of an emergency. Drew vaguely wondered how often that particular rule was followed.
(Given the conditions on these roads these days, not very likely.)
Either way, the vehicle chugged along at a steady pace and Drew was rather glad for the change of pace. He looked over to Emily's second, a young man by the name of Buford.
"Say Buford, how long have you worked with Emily?" Buford studied the gauges by him for a moment then replied.
"A while. She and I have been thick as thieves since we were gofers. We had the luck of serving in the same team and when we took the GOAT, she had all the skills of an expert driver and I had the makings of an expert mechanic and navigator. Since Emily and I worked well together, Ol' Roy thought it'd be best we work together. Like the old saying for the Bootleggers go: 'Gunners come and go but Navigators and Drivers stay eternal'."
"Did you know the two previous gunners?" Buford shook his head.
"Nope. Didn't care to either. They were both contractors from the Copperheads. Not to speak ill of the dead but those bastards couldn't hit the broad side of a barn." He motioned for Drew to come closer.
"Just between you and me? When we were attacked, those guys seemed a little TOO calm. They at first tried to pass it off as an accident, then when it became clear we were being attacked, they DID open fire but it was sloppy, inaccurate."
"It was only once that one of them fell dead with a hole in his head did the other one straighten up and fly right, but by then it was too late." Drew listened to him curiously.
"Wait a minute. Are you saying what I THINK you're saying?" Buford quickly clammed up and made a 'stop' motion before leaning in.
"All I'm saying is The Copperheads are known for their lax methods. Unlike the other companies that rigorously follow up with their contracts and their members, the Copperheads are divided by offices. Basically the two who failed in their duty to follow through with their contract are held responsible by a regional officer, a lieutenant, and that lieutenant is then accountable to the leader of the Company."
"So these two failed. They're dead. What becomes of the contract?"
"The Lieutenant who assigned the men must pay the company for the lost bounty and must also reimburse the families, if any, of the men killed. It's a 'system' of accountability. The men the Lieutenant hired screwed the pooch and so it is the Lieutenant who must pay the piper."
"It ensures the best men are assigned to the tasks that best compliment their skills. These men obviously were more green than the guy let on and thus were easier to kill than hardened veterans."
Drew nodded understandingly and then returned to his previous thoughts while Buford went back to work.
A moment later, Buford rose and banged on Emily's door. She opened the window and said something Drew couldn't hear. Buford held up a map.
"Emily, we are almost to Flatwoods. Should we prepare for defence?"
...
...
"Right." Buford turned to Drew and also got Macy's attention.
"Man your guns, we're nearing Flatwoods. We've got a surplus of ammo thanks to those previous nitwits who didn't shoot when we were attacked. Don't do us any favors by sparing your shots. You see something funny, you blow the hell out of it." Drew nodded and climbed up onto the turret platform and unlocked the turret.
Unlike the machinegun at the Overpass barricade, this one was permanently bolted to the frame of the turret and also had a much shorter barrel. The one thingDrew was thankful for was that the armoring on the turret completely surrounded him except for a small openng that allowed him to look down the barrel to the piece of welded iron that served as a forward sight.
He gazed around the turret but then halted when, directly behind him, he spotted the only remaining clue that a man had been killed up here. Grimacing, he turned and then chambered a round in the gun and readied himself for the first sign of trouble. Through the gunsight, Drew saw the vehicle turn off the I49 and then proceed down the road a little ways until it stopped at a small depot near a collection of homes. Below, he heard Emily open the window and speak to Buford.
"Okay, for Flatwoods, we offload one medium gun crate, one small gun crate, two medium ammo crates, and two small medical boxes of Stimpacks and Radaway. As soon as that's done, we take on two large gun crates and three food crates and then we're off for Chopin."
Drew panned the turret around and then looked atthe platform before looking past itto the buildings. He couldn't shake it but something felt...off.
"Buford...isn't there usually someone waiting to help you offload their cargo and load the new crates?" Buford gazed out the window below and hummed to himself.
"Yeah... funny thing is, they left the cargo right there on the platform... definately NOT standard operating procedure. Drew, cover me, I'm stepping out."
Drew nodded and fixed the turret on the distance where trees lined the town and fixed his sights on the treeline. Below him, he heard the door open and Buford step out and inspect the crates. Drew shifted his focus to a small building on the outside of the settlement. At that moment, the wind shifted and blew the plywood door to the building open revealing a body stuffed inside what Drew now could see was an outhouse. Drew leveled the gun and then yelled.
"Buford! Get in, NOW!" Buford had just pried the lid off of one of the weapon crates and then, upon noticing it was empty, heard Drew shout, and all but dove back into Transport and slammed the door behind him.
"It's a trap! Drive, Emily! DRIVE!"
At that moment, Drew heard several yells and man and women in orange jumpsuits came running out of the woods, firing guns haphazzardly at the vehicle. Leveling the sights, Drew opened fire and felt the gun recoil in his hands as it let loose.
He was rewarded when his initial burst made the attackers stop for a moment before picking up the attack again, this time though, they made use of whatever cover they could. A moment later, Emily fired up the engine and the Transport tore out of the depot and made a beeline for the onramp. Drew was firing wildly at the attackers as he heard Buford turn on a radio he had noticed earlier.
"Mayday! Mayday! This is Transport One-Six. Under attack by raiders in Flatwoods. Repeat: Flatwoods has fallen!" Drew suddenly heard another motor and turned back to Flatwoods to see several vehicles tear out from the town and try to catch up.
"Buford! They have vehicles and are pursuing us!"
Drew had never figured Buford for a swearing kind of guy but he had to admit, the man could be rather 'colorful' when he wanted to be.
"Transport One-Six here, one of our gunners just said they have vehicles. Requesting a patrol to assist and escort. Does anyone copy?"
The reply was drowned out by Macy firing her machinegun as if the world was on fire. Drew turned the turret to the rear and started firing as well at the fast closing vehicles.
Now Drew had never seen vehicles apart from the burnt out husks he saw along the old roads that no one had ever bothered to clear before. Emily's vehicle was simple in its purpose and design but at least it was pleasing to the eyes. The vehicles these raiders used though...
...Drew was sure they had 'frankensteined' them out of whatever scrap they could find. No two vehicles were alike and all of them was coated thickly in dust, rust, and things best left unmentioned.
Currently the Transport was being assailed by a nasty piece of work. A skeleton frame with three wheels, a driver sitting back almost uncomfortably close to the engine, and two others hefting shotguns was closing and peppering the back with what sounded like double-ought buckshot. He eased the turret around, aimed at the machine and opened fire.
His rounds raked the front of the machine and then peppered the driver and the engine. Apparently these machines were designed worse than Drew thought because a moment later the engine exploded sending the machine into cartwheels which then landed on another machine. Drew smiled and yelled down.
"Got one!" Drew heard Macy's curt reply as she reloaded.
"Whaddya want a medal? A kiss? Get your head back in it and DON'T GET COCKY!"
"Yes, ma'am." Drew coughed and then returned to firing at the groups coming at them.
"Buford! Any idea who's attacking us? I mean, what raider group?"
"What are they wearing?"
"Orange jumpsuits, like Vault suits only these have DOC in faded lettering on them! Mean anything?"
"Yeah. Group of raiders called the 'Chain Yankers'. Descendants of prisoner chain gangs that were out here cleaning up the roads when the bombs fell. Word was they'd been wiped out a while back but for some reason everyone always had their doubts." Drew sensed a bit of worry in Buford's voice and then pushed further.
"Who supposedly ended them?" There was a delay in answering.
"The Copperheads." Drew fired at another runner and then frowned.
(Copperheads again... why am I seeing a pattern here?)
At that moment, the vehicle lurched as Emily made a nearly ninety degree to get onto the onramp and then felt himself momentarily weightless as it then went airborne as it hit the interstate.
It took a moment for Drew to regain his bearings and when he did he was immediately aware that Macy's gun had stopped firing. He swung down, worried.
"Macy! You okay?" Drew went down the path between the lockers and the lockup and saw Macy struggling with the machinegun and growling lowly.
"Drew, not really the best time! This. Damn. Gun. Is. REALLY. Pissing. Me. Off. Gah!" She whipped around to Drew, eyes burning fiercely.
"Swap guns with you. I'll take the turret, you can get THIS particular piece of crap."
It was not so much a request as an order and by the time Drew had the presense of mind to object, Macy was on the turret and he was left in the back with a jammed gun.
(Damn Macy jammed it good. Looks like not only a double feed but also a stovepipe. Heh, one of the reasons Will and I called her Mace. She is built to destroy.)
Drew went about unjamming the gun while Macy kept firing from the turret. Finally, he managed to get the belt feed working properly and pulled the charging handle again and lined the gun up with the nearest raider.
'THUD!'
Drew looked up from the gun gazing around the vehicle as he wondered what in the world that sound was.
'THUD!'
Drew gazed around again before he heard Buford come up from behind him. He was holding a shotgun and was grim. Drew then put two and two together and grimaced.
"They're on the roof?" Buford nodded.
"Yep. Stay on your gun, I'll handle this."
Macy's gun kept firing but it was in shorter bursts and every once in a while she would yell something at the raiders who were trying to pry open the turret. At that moment though, Drew saw a flash of orange and suddenly saw a green and blue painted face smiling in his viewport.
"Hello."
Drew pulled his revolver and fired one round through the viewport, clearing the 'obstruction'. Still, he couldn't help himself.
"Goodbye."
At that moment, a runner came into view behind him and he pulled the trigger on the machinegun.
There is an old military word that describes things that break, fail, or go awry: FUBAR.
The machinegun all but exploded in Drew's hands as the round misfired and everything seemed to go wrong at once. The barrel came loose from the housing and shot forward, impaling the tin 'armor' covering the cab and likely surprising the raider driving the runner, the feed cover blew off the weapon nearly breaking Drew's jaw, and the bolts came loose from the frame dropping the eleven pound machinegun onto his feet, making him wince and bite back a curse.
"Buford! I think we got a problem!" Buford looked at the machinegun and Drew swore he saw his jaw drop in disbelief.
"Oh shit." Thinking quickly, Buford reached to his belt and pulled a set of keys from them.
"Open the locker and get one of the weapons we're hauling! They're decently sized crates so I suspect they are heavy weapons!"
Buford tossed the keyes to Drew who opened the door to the lockup and tore the lid off the first crate he came to. Inside was a MASSIVE machinegun stamped with the word 'Orkelion'.
Though it was larger than the machinegun he'd used on the Overpass, Drew managed to heft the weapon back to his post and lock it in place. He then saw Buford opening an ammo crate and handing the large drum magazines within it to him. Buford eyed the machinegun and smiled.
"This is an Orkelion 25mm heavy machinegun. It was supposed to be delivered to a boat from the Red River Guard but the boat was destroyed near Colfax a few days ago and since then the gun has been moved along I49 until it reaches Alexandria. Word has it the gun was salvaged from a ship in Morgan City. Don't rightly know what that little doo-hicky on the top is but as long as it doesn't interfere with the sights, I'm content to just leave it on there. Well? What are ya waiting for an engraved invitation? Charge the weapon and give these bastards the whole nine yards!"
Needing no further encouragement, Drew gripped the dual handle and pressed the button trigger and felt the recoil of the weapon start shaking his arms, no surprise since each round when unfired was as long as his hand from wrist to the end of his middle finger, and the magazine for this weapon held nearly three-hundred of these rounds. More surprisingly was the difference in damage.
A .30 caliber round from the machinegun would punch a hole through the thinly armored raider vehicles. A 25mm round would all but turn the vehicle inside out.
The first burst struck the engine of one of the larger runners, causing it to splutter, rattle, and finally it went to pieces. The second burst struck a smaller one on the axle, splitting the axle in half and sending the vehicle skidding into another which then exploded in a bright flash. Midway through the third burst, a loud crash got Drew's attention and he gasped as he saw a large, eight-wheeled vehicle bearing down on them.
"Emily? If you're not going full-speed yet, I HIGHLY suggest you put the pedal to the metal!" Buford came back and looked through his window and mouthed something before running back up to the driver's box. Moments later, Drew heard the engine rev up and noticed the raider super-vehicle fall further behind.
For a moment, Drew thought they'd outrun it when from the pipes protruding from either side belched thick black smoke and began gaining again. This, however, didn't frighten him as much as what he saw coming out of a hatch on the front.
A raider... holding a weapon he'd only seen once before...
...a Fat Man Nuke Launcher.
Drew ignored all other targets around him and focused exclusively on the raider holding the launcher. The rounds pinged and panged around the raider and he was also assisted when Macy also focused on the raider vehicle closing slowly within the terminal range of the launcher.
Finally, as the raider was preparing to fire, Drew aimed down the sights and eased onto the trigger but then pushed something else. The raider was highlighted in a green outline and a small percentage was displayed by the right. He eased his crosshairs over the raider and watched the number climb to 89%. Then, almost instinctively, he fired the weapon.
The round left the weapon and flew straight at the raider before striking him center recoil makes the raider jerk back but also with his last breath fire the launcher.
Straight into the air...
...
...
...
...and right back onto the raider vehicle.
Drew only had a brief moment to look away and thought he heard Macy yell something along the same lines as the Mininuke detonated. There was a bright flash and a thundering 'BOOM!' and the Transport shuddered with the force of the explosion. After a moment, Drew risked looking back and was greeted with a sight right out of a nightmare.
The raider vehicles caught in the blast were blown all across the road. The mega-runner was nothing more than a flaming pile of debris that now blocked the majority of the road.
Seeing no more foes, Drew sighed and relaxed his grip on the gun and turned to Buford.
"Enemy vehicles destroyed. They nuked themselves." Buford nodded but was still uneasy.
"I've been with Emily and the Bootleggers for years and I've NEVER seen raiders this well equipped and armed. Plus, of all things, a FAT MAN. Those kinds of weapons you only find in LSM armories or old military installations." Drew thought of something and then switched on his Pipboy. The last few notes of a song faded as the DJ came on.
'Hey hey, Louisiana! It's me, your old friend Danny Boy Rhodes, and I'm here to give you the skinny on what's shaking in the south today.
First up: The Copperhead Mercenary Company has reported that they have caught up with the raiders responsible for the break-in at the Old River Road Armory and have dealt with them. Unfortunately most of the weapons had already been sold to groups affiliated with the raiders and thus a travel advisory has been issued by the Baton Rouge Committee.
Another report issued here, a vehicle transport hauling vehicles bound for the Boneyard has been hijacked by unknown people and has vanished. Anyone travelling along I49 south of Natchitoches and north of the Alexandria is to keep an eye out for any sign of these missing vehicles.
Okay, breaking from the doom and gloom here, we have a bit of good news. An attack on the Overpass by raiders has been thwarted by a force of LSM soldiers, mercenaries, and townsfolk. Witnesses say that during the fight, a man lifted one of the machineguns and, wielding it like a assault rifle, led the charge against the raiders who soon broke ranks and retreated.
Rumors are that this man who showed such courage was none other than Drew Durr, the Lone Survivor of Robeline. If that is the case then Drew my friend, I and all of us here in Natchitoches, salute you for your bravery and all your efforts.
Alright, that's enough out of me for a while, now then, enjoy these wonderful songs we've got coming your way. First up, we have 'Tennessee' Ernie Ford as he loads 'Sixteen Tons'.'
Drew eased back into his seat as the song came on and found himself singing along with it after a while. When he came to the last verse, he heard someone snapping and glanced over to see Macy smiling and snapping her fingers. Drew, emboldened, picked up his voice for the last verse.
'I-f you see me comin' ya better, step aside.
Alotta men didn't, alotta men died.
One fist of iron, the other of steel;
If the right one don't get ya, then the left one will.
You load sixteen tons, whaddya get?
Another day older and deeper in debt,
Saint Peter don't you call me 'cause I can't go.
I owe my soul to the company store.'
As he finished, the Transport was filled with not only Macy's laughter but also Emily's. Buford and Drew joined in and after a moment when Buford calmed down, he looked over to Drew.
"Whew, I don't think I EVER heard Emily laugh like that. Then again, we never had a radio in here. What's so special about that song?" Drew smiled and then looked to Macy who was chatting with Emily.
"Their father used to work at a mill near Robeline. He would take old, salvaged metal materials, melt them down, and then turn them out as brand new. Most of the tin and iron in Robeline was handled by him and was fitted to the town. It's fair to say that thanks to their dad, Robeline was able to settle and be revived. Shelter is no small thing. A roof, even a tin roof that is noisy as all heck in a rain storm, is a welcome relief and is heaven compared to sleeping out in the open." Buford nodded understandingly.
"I lived in a home like that. My parents had a home outside Alexandria that had been deroofed during the war. Can't tell you how many times I had to climb on the rickety plywood roof with my pa to patch a hole or fix a leak. I'd have given anything back then for a few pieces of tin to build a more permanent roof."
Drew nodded and then looked over the machinegun and then to the little machine that was fixed to the top of it.
"Buford, Macy, what do y'all make of this?"
On the casing of the machine was a single word:
'V.A.T.S.'
Macy looked it over and nodded.
"I've seen these before. These little computers are known as V.A.T.S or 'Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting Systems'. These little things are mainly used on heavy weapons and power armor suits but I hear that the Rattlers and the French Guard sometimes fit them onto their weapons. They calculate range, trajectory, wind speed, and even how effective a shot will be based on enemy armor and weapon caliber. Supposedly they're supposed to make even the most inept soldier into a one-man army. Looks like this one was being used by the RRG to assist in their support operations." This got Drew's attention as he turned to her.
"Support operations?" Macy nodded but before she could speak, Buford took control of the conversation.
"The RRG has been tryin' their damndest to secure the Red River as a plausible route for moving goods and troops from one end of the state to the next. Yet time and again they are attacked by raiders along the banks who almost seem to know they are coming. That's why they're paying out hundreds maybe THOUSANDS of caps for high-quality pre-war weapons and ammo. I heard this big bastard here, the Orkelion, was bought for almost 8,000 caps. Rumors are that they're almost ready to go under and give up on their namesake. If that happens, well, Louisiana will be a helluva lot harder to traverse the state overland."
Drew nodded understandingly. He'd seen a map of New Louisiana before and knew that if the Red River was lost, the state, government, and military would be split in half.
A moment later, Buford opened up a box containing some food and passed it to Macy and Drew. Drew and Macy both picked out a brahmin steak and sat there silently eating as Buford picked out his choice of lunch.
"We'll be nearing Chopin soon. I shudder to think what those raiders did to the outside of the Transport but hopefully we'll be able to continue our run without any further problems. I suppose you two can cool your heels and take a rest, seeing as your jobs are over. Rest assured though, we ever start another trip that seems a bit odd, we'll give you a call."
Drew nodded and, despite himself, found himself easing into a chair and falling asleep from exhaustion.