Inspiration: Batman, Fable 2, Fallout 3 wiki: Evergreen Mills, Mad Max: Fury Road, 3 and the Video Game. *Hehehehe*

Shout outs: TheWarden101, Mandalore the Freedom, Shadowolf2001, jukehero461, ExS-DrIfTeRr, Radio Free Death and Alexiej (who has reviewed every single chapter). 7 reviewers after one chapter? I think that's the most I've racked up so far, so thanks to all that reviewed. I appreciate it. :)

A/N: Sorry for the super long wait, guys. I've been feeling a little under the weather lately and couldn't be bothered to write. But I decided to get this chapter done and dusted because of how long it's been. Hope one of my lengthiest chapters thus far will, in some small way, compensate for that.

But seriously though, how many of you thought I was dead or going inactive or something?

Enjoy!

Chapter 10: Dancing with Death

Megaton, Craterside Supply. Two days later…

Moira Brown was a bit of an eccentric, even for wasteland standards but overall meant well… but she didn't always end up doing well. Elias had learned from his few encounters with the woman that her experiments could, at times, go a little too far. Now, for instance, was one of those times.

"You did what?!"

The redhead attempted a sweet smile, tapping the tips of her index fingers together as she thought of a way to break it to him without him freaking out. "… Twisted your DNA like a kitten with a ball of yarn…" It came out more like a suggestion than real answer.

Elias' hands tightened into fists at his head before he pumped them down in frustration, beginning to pace back and forth. He knew drinking from that irradiated pool of water around the atomic bomb was a ludicrous idea. He couldn't believe he trusted Moira to flush the radiation out of his system without any severe side effects. But it wasn't all her fault, he'd agreed to this madness on his own accord.

"What are the ramifications?" he asked once he'd halted his disgruntled pacing to look at her.

The store owner beamed at him. "Well that's the good news!"

There's good news?

"You now heal from radiation!"

His jaw dropped. "… Are you telling me that the radiation I was subjected to and your treatment has given me some sort of… healing property?"

Nodding enthusiastically, Moira said, "It's more like 'properties', but yes! Isn't this amazing?"

Elias stepped back. "Uh, you could say that…" he said before approaching the counter again and resting his hands on the top. "What are these 'properties'?"

Moira glanced down at her clipboard. "When you come in contact with radiation of any form, your natural healing process is accelerated. Regenerating any damaged areas of your body far beyond the capabilities of ordinary humans," she said. "The radiation will also gradually break down bullets and shrapnel and remove it through your excretory system. So you won't have to worry your pretty little head about that either!"

The Wanderer chose to ignore the 'pretty little head' comment. "So… some sort of mutant healing factor?"

"Yes!"

This was a lot to take in. Thoughtful for a moment, Elias mused over the revelation. A healing ability would be convenient. Radiation was literally everywhere in the wastes so this would be sort of like an endless supply of stimpaks.

"I'm going to take some time to think this all through… keep this under wraps, will you? I think it best if this was a secret."

"Okie dokie! Thanks for all your help!" Moira called as he walked out the door.

Once outside, Elias glanced up at the sky. Apparently, he could heal from the UV rays of the sun. Curious to test that theory, he unwrapped the bandages around his hands and held said hands out in the direct sunlight. He gaged at the sight of the paled, charred and leathery look of the flesh. At first, nothing seemed to happen but not long after the rest of the proliferation phase of healing was surged on. The usual time for second degree burns to heal was several weeks, and that was with medical attention, it had been a couple of days so far for him. But now his body was already onto resurfacing his wounds, the… what was it called again? Epithelialisation stage. Yeah, that was it. This was phenomenal. He had to show Charon.

As he excitedly made his way past the saloon and towards his new Megaton house he noticed a girl sitting on the edge of the catwalk alone, looking out at the rest of the settlement, legs oscillating over the side. But what caught the Wanderer's attention was the sullen look on her face. And his short moment of delight whittled away to allow a frown to form on his face.

Interested, he approached. "Hey, what's the matter? You seem upset."

She didn't look at him, instead down at her lap and Elias thought she might start to cry. "Hardon's with his dad learning to shoot and Billy's too busy to play with me…"

"So you're all by yourself," Elias finished for her. No idea who the two she mentioned were.

"Yeah…" she agreed with a sniffle, wiping her nose with her arm.

Lips pursed, Elias thought of a way to cheer her up. He'd feel guilty if he just left her here to sulk. But he didn't know the first thing about how children entertained themselves in the wasteland. When he was a child he spent most of his time reading and learning… or running amok with Amata. He knelt down beside the girl. "Tell you what," he said. "I've got a baseball and glove back at my house, we can play catch if you like."

This time she looked at him, a small grateful smile tugging on the corners of her mouth. "Really?"

"Really," he confirmed. "I'll go get them."

They spent the rest of the day giggling as they messed around like they were both innocent children and the world they lived in hadn't been blown to shit. The girl, who revealed her name to be Maggie, threw the ball so hard that it sailed over Elias' head and down into the crater hitting the raving preacher beside the bomb, knocking him into the pond.

Elias hadn't been able to crack a smile since Lucy's passing but now he found himself unable to breathe as he was convulsed with laughter. He only intended to lift her spirits but it seems she'd done the same for him.

But their elation was short lived because not long after, a man with a head wrap exited the house behind them to collect Maggie. He hoisted her up so that she was piggybacking him.

"Well, who's this? You never introduced me to your friend, Maggie," the man said, his head cocked round to look over his shoulder.

Elias slipped off the baseball glove to shake his hand. "You must be Billy. Elias, but you probably know me as the Lone Wanderer."

"The Lone Wanderer? You're the one that stopped that bombing attempt two weeks ago!" It had been that long? Elias checked his Pip-boy, it was true. "Man, it's a pleasure to meet you," he said, shaking the Wanderer's hand a little too eagerly. "Heard about that other stuff you've been up to on the radio, good on you."

Elias tried to smile but it looked more like a half-cringe. "Uh, thanks…"

"Well I guess it's time for Maggie to head to bed, see you later buddy."

It wasn't hard to tell that the girl was disappointed. "Aw but Billy," she whined.

"C'mon sweetie it's almost nine."

She pointed at Elias. "I want to play with the nice man, he said he'd teach me how to shoot like Hardon."

Billy looked at him.

The Wanderer shrugged. "If it's alright with you of course." He wasn't exactly sure if he'd have the time though.

"I'm always pretty busy and she's been asking me to teach her for a while now. Besides, who better to teach my little girl then the best warrior in the Wastes?"

Elias nodded but he didn't agree. If anything, that title belonged to Charon. He turned to the girl. "Here, how about you keep my ball and glove for next time?" He decided he'd likely never use them again so it was better to pass them on to someone that would. With a second of hesitation he fastened the glove onto her small hand and sat the ball in it.

She beamed. "Thanks mister!" Accepting the gifts.

Billy mouthed the words 'Thank you'.

With that, they went their separate ways. Billy and his adopted daughter to their house and Elias to his.

The Following Morning…

Once again the Wanderer, his ghoul companion and the hound were on the move. Headed west shortly after dawn. Charon had said that this was the direction of a place called 'Evergreen Mills', which his father (in one of his recordings) had explained was nearby the location he left for; Vault 112. The ghoul wasn't sure where the other vault was, however, so Evergreen Mills was their next destination.

It wasn't long before they were upon the other vault. The vault Elias had left behind all those days ago.

"That's it up the hill," Elias said softly, a nod in that direction.

Charon stopped. "Huh?"

"Vault 101."

"Oh…"

With a sigh and one last glance at the wooden door separating the vault from the outside world, the Wanderer pressed onwards. That hole was behind him now and he was never returning.

The rest of the day had been quiet and uneventful, they made it quite a way before anything seemed to spook the ghoul into anxiety. Tense and watchful as they continued down a road towards a small cluster of wrecked buildings on the horizon, Elias noticed on more than one occasion, Charon checking the rear view mirrors of derelict cars on their path. Though he did it with a certain subtleness to it, only his eyes seemed to move. If not close or observant enough, it would be overlooked entirely.

As if able to tell what Elias was thinking, "I need to tell you something," Charon confessed. "And when I do, you mustn't react or turn your head to look behind you. Understand?"

Confused, Elias nodded dumbly. "…Yeah."

"Alright. We are being followed. A man in black combat armour much like your own. There's only one now but who knows how many may be nearby."

Fantastic. Just when I was starting to get comfortable.

Dumbstruck, Elias was quick to the inquiries. "Why? Is it one of Rivet City's security guards? What are they doing out here?"

"Those are good questions, the answers of which I intend to find out," the ghoul growled. After a few days spent with the ghoul, he was able to read Charon a little easier. What Elias recognised as his friend's pensive expression was adopted.

They took a look in a jalopy window. "It seems our shadow has disappeared," said Charon thoughtfully. Glancing back in the direction they came, eyes searching the landscape.

"That's a good thing. Maybe he's lost interest."

Charon disagreed. "No, it's not a good thing. I liked him where I could see him."

"So what do we do?"

"Keep walking. Pretend you are unaware."

So he did.

As they got closer to the pre-war town up the road, Charon spoke up once again, "He's going to try and cut us off around that corner and ambush us. I suggest we take the long way around."

Trusting the ghoul's judgement, Elias followed his lead.

But Charon made a mistake.

That seemed to be exactly what the mysterious figure intended.

Once they had circled the north side of the town, the two made a dash down the main road only to be blocked off by, what Elias recognised to be a black Ford Falcon XB Coupe. Dried mud splashed up the sides, glazing it over in a thick coat of brown. There were small patches of rust here and there but the car was certainly in a better condition than most other vehicles he'd seen so far.

Out of an old diner on their left emerged two figures in black combat armour like Charon had described earlier, they stepped out in front of the car carrying assault rifles.

Before the two could retreat in the other direction, two more men in combat armour flanked them. And another man of the same attire exited the vehicle on the driver side to join his friends.

"Charon," Elias whispered. "You know what I said about not needing a bodyguard? I take it back. Could use about ten right now."

The ghoul gave him a sideways glance. "You only need me." And there was the slightest trace of a smirk playing at his lips.

"Well, well. Would you look at that? 'Seems some strays got lost," the one, Elias assumed to be the leader, said. The man had a thick bushy monobrow that desperately need plucking. "You're the one that has caused Mr Tenpenny a great inconvenience. And when Mr Tenpenny has inconveniences, he comes to us."

Dogmeat bared his canines and barked at the man. The man next to Bushy-Monobrow stepped forward and kicked him away onto the concrete. Dogmeat whimpered and cowered behind Elias.

Gritting his teeth since he could do nothing else, Elias sneered at Dogmeat's abuser before turning to these bastard's leader. "What do you want?" Elias growled.

"You. Dead or alive, it don't matter which," Bushybrow answered. "So hand over your weapons."

Elias and Charon exchanged a glance, nodded and turned back to the man.

Gingerly, Charon withdrew both his machete and combat shotgun and Elias retrieved Lincolns Repeater and A3-21. Both placing their weapons in Monobrow's and Dogmeat's attacker's hands respectively but not letting go.

"All of them," Monobrow enforced with a frustrated look over at the Wanderer.

With a grin, Elias reached to his sides and slipped out Kneecapper and his N99 that he decided to affectionately christen 'Amata'. "How long have they been together?" he asked, looking at Mono.

The leader returned a confused look, his one eyebrow queried at one end. "Who?"

Elias' shit eating grin widened. "Your eyebrows."

Before any of the black adorned men could react; Elias tossed the sawed-off in the air to be caught by Charon with one hand and twisted his machete out of Monobrow's grasp before he drove the blade into the man's torso with his other.

Elias stepped to the side in a blur and hooked one arm around Dogmeat's attacker's neck in a choke and aimed his handgun at the man next to the car.

Charon did the same with the leader. Kneecapper pointed at the pair that had been behind them.

"No sudden moves," Elias warned, slowly backing away towards the metro. Always wanted to say that, he thought. He risked a quick glance behind him to avoid hitting the sign. 'Jury Street Metro Station', it read.

He looked back at the three others. The driver was leaning against the car door with his arms crossed, looking pretty amused with the way the ordeal had turned out. A stupid grin on his face. Like he was the very definition of nonchalance.

The duo that had been behind Elias and Charon both had their eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Sending dumb looks to one another and shrugging.

The man in Elias' grasp elbowed him in the ribs, loosening the Wanderer's grip, the man ducked out of the way of the bullet that fired from Amata. Now crouched on the ground, he dove for Elias' legs and tackled him to the ground.

Charon's POV:

The ghoul and his captive saw this, the leader of whom Charon figured was a Talon Company squad attempted something similar but Charon would have none of it. He whacked Elias' sawed-off across the man's head and shoved him to the ground. Being sure to deliver a few kicks to his abdomen. It wouldn't kill him but it wouldn't tickle either.

Sliding one foot beneath his combat shotgun, Terrible, Charon flicked it up into his hands and shot both men on the other side of the road as they raised their rifles to meet him. They were a second too late.

He then aimed at the mercenary still leaning against the car but that man's inactiveness confused him. Why was he not attacking like the others? Why was he not avenging his teammates? Something wasn't right here. Charon didn't like it. Not one bit. He didn't fire, but that didn't mean he was lowering the weapon or removing his finger from the trigger.

Dogmeat growled at the man and Charon knew he'd attack if the merc tried anything, giving him the opportunity to avert his attention to the struggle beside him. The man Elias was supposed to hold captive was on top of him, pummelling him with punches as the kid strained to keep his hands up protecting his head. They needed to work on his hand to hand fighting because he was clearly inept at this. It was almost embarrassing.

With a grumble, the ghoul kicked the merc off Elias and stomped on his head. Crushing his skull. Swiftly pointing his shotgun at the driver, straight after.

With every other Talon merc either dead or close to death, this one was the last one standing… and doing absolutely nothing.

Once Charon's friend had gotten up, the driver spoke, "Quite an impressive display," he said ironically, his eyes on Elias.

The Wanderer met his gaze with a look of cautious suspicion. "Why aren't you attacking us like your buddies?"

He simply shrugged his shoulders. "Don't want to waste my ammo," he replied. "As for 'my buddies', I only joined these halfwits 'cause I knew they'd be coming to pay you a visit. Wanted to see the 'Lone Wanderer' for myself and as far as I can tell-" His eyes briefly shifted to look at Charon before darting back to Elias, "-you've certainly lived up to that title," he explained, almost sardonically so. A thin smile on his face.

"Well now that you've seen me, you can leave. We promise we won't shoot you in the back."

Charon grunted. "Speak for yourself."

The Talon merc eyed the ghoul in open suspicion as if sure Charon meant it but he didn't address it. "Was hoping I could join you two actually. It looks like you could use the help."

Rolling his eyes, Elias scoffed. "And why would you want to do that?" he questioned in open cynicism, "It's on your bucket list?"

The nameless merc chuckled, but the laugh seemed like it belonged to someone more… feminine. As if realising that, the man cleared his throat. "Yes, it is. I like that your trying to help… we need more people like you in the world."

A Talon Company mercenary with a soft spot? He wasn't buying it. Talon Company were notorious for their cruel, merciless methods and never turning down a contract. No matter how inhumane. But that would explain why he didn't assist his teammates…

The ghoul knew Elias did not see that coming, he sent a look to Charon who returned it - both thinking along similar lines. "Then why wouldn't you assist us to take down the others? They were threatening our lives…"

The merc stood straight. "That would be cheating now, wouldn't it? I needed to see if you were truly as good as they say."

"And why should we let you tag along?"

"I've got a car and I'd bet that neither of you know how to drive," he said with a grin. "We can help each other."

That seemed to win Elias over. "Fine… but don't make me regret this."

With a wink, the merc then said, "You won't."

Elias' POV:

Driving down the same road they'd been on when they were intercepted, they were all off on a steady pace towards Evergreen Mills. According to the unknown presence in the driver seat, they'd reach their destination in a few hours rather than a day if they had been on foot.

He was riding shotgun and Charon and Dogmeat were in the backseat.

Elias turned to the driver. "So… do you have a name?"

Without taking his eyes off the road, he answered the question with a question, "Do you?"

"Elias. Surprised you didn't know."

Grinning, "Yeah, Three-dog won't stop blaring on about you, I know. Thing is, he only refers to you as the 'Lone Wanderer'," he explained.

Figures

"So what do we call you?"

He turned to look at the Wanderer. "Scar," he said. "Call me Scar."

What kind of name is that?

"So… Scar, how did you come to afflict with the Talon Company? Or were you always a member?" Elias asked next. Before they had entered the car, Charon had pulled him aside and warned him about this man. Explaining that he was from Talon Company, another mercenary group except they weren't as amicable as Reilly's Rangers and did anything for the right sum of caps.

Scar smirked smugly. "Slit the throat of the one that looked closest to me then I dragged his stickin' ass behind a rock and took his place."

Elias shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Though, he did take some comfort in the fact that the driver wasn't from Talon Company. "You're wearing a dead man's clothes?"

"No. This isn't Talon armour. Can you see the insignia anywhere?" he inquired, turning his torso to face Elias and pointing at his chest.

"No…" he said but he wasn't even sure what the insignia looked like.

"Exactly right. I had this on me when I was tailing them."

"And why were you tailing them, exactly?"

Scar groaned. "I told ya' back at the metro, they were hired to take you out of the picture." Another thin smile then appeared on his face. "Oh, and they had a car," he pointed out.

Before Elias could respond and ask how the man knew how to drive, Scar spoke again and the car skid to a halt. "That there is Evergreen Mills, hotbed for raiders." Pointing out to what looked like a giant crater with a ravine stretched out as an access point. "Remind me again why you two wanted to come to such a place."

Neither Elias nor Charon answered as they hopped out of the vehicle to get a better look. Scar opened his door to exit as well, binoculars in hand.

The Wanderer was first to speak. "We're going to someplace called 'Vault 112'. It should be directly west of here." He looked out in the direction he spoke of, only to see more rock and sun-baked dirt and sand.

"No idea where that is, sorry."

Charon, who had been squinting at the raider stronghold, turned to the Scar. "Mind if I use these?" he asked, gesturing the long lookers.

The merc shrugged. "Not at all," he said before returning to the conversation with Elias. "This vault place, what's so important about it?" he asked, eyeing the jumpsuit Elias had on. "Is it your vault?"

Elias wasn't sure if he should reveal his quest to the man. Sure he'd been helpful so far but how long would that last till his ulterior motive was manifested? Maybe he was being too cynical but after the incident with Jericho…

Speak of the devil.

Before he could answer, the ghoul nudged him and handed him the binoculars. "Entrance to Evergreen. You need to see this." Was his explanation.

Bemused, Elias obliged, averting his gaze through the lens to the mouth of the gorge where Charon had directed.

A raider party of four were hustling a few wastelanders along and into the outpost. Wastelanders Elias realised were slaves… or they were going to be, at least. Chains and cuffs securing the group together to ensure they wouldn't run off. At the point of said group was none other than Jericho.

Of the band, one raider kicked him into the dirt. Confirming to Elias that he had also been enslaved.

The Wanderer chuckled darkly. "Serves him right," he said in a mutter.

"These slaves, do you plan on getting them out?" Scar questioned from beside him.

Elias lowered the lens from his face and shook his head. "No we're not. It's not our problem."

That was when Charon decided to pipe up. "Was it your problem when you ordered us to rescue Reilly's Rangers? What about when you aided that android? What about when you freed me? Was it your problem?"

"I'm not putting my or others lives at jeopardy for him." He spat the last word out as if it were venom.

Charon didn't back down. "You'd do it for anyone else…"

He had a point but Charon was forgetting one thing.

"'Anyone else' didn't betray me to a bartender and ensure Lucy's death."

In the corner of his eye, Elias saw Scar looking between the two arguing unsurely. He kept his mouth shut though.

Finding that that approach wasn't getting him anywhere, Charon tried another. "If not for Jericho, do it for the other captives."

Elias gave the ghoul a long stubborn look before turning away. "Fine," he conceded.

Jericho's POV:

"Move it old man!" One of his captors said. Shoving him in the back again with the butt of a hunting rifle.

"Respect your elders!" he barked back. Jericho never thought he'd say those words in his life. First time for everything, he supposed.

That earned him a boot in the back, sending him to the ground spluttering obscenities. The nerve of these assholes.

After a short round of laughs, they schlepped him to his feet and jostled him to move along. He did so reluctantly but not after sending dirty scowls their way.

They trekked through the gorge along one line of train tracks. Passing old train cartridges with patrolling guards on top either grinning or glowering at him and the slaves.

Eventually they made it into the heart and Jericho gaped around to take it all in. The place hadn't changed one bit since he'd been here last and that was about five years ago. Except for, of course, the behemoth these idiots managed to imprison. That was new. It was located in the very centre in the arena as if they were showing it off. The fence buzzed and spat electric bolts. They electrocuted the fence? He had to hand it to them, that was pretty smart. He heard about them capturing it but here he could see it with his own eyes.

Jericho and the other prisoners were directed into a fenced off area to join with about seven other wasters already inside.

After the four marched off. Jericho slumped down in the dirt, his hands on his knees. He watched different raiders from different gang's strut about like they owned the place. Some gangs he recognised, some he didn't. "Well, this is a nice change of scenery."

"It's a prison," a man clad in filthy rags retorted. Sitting over in one of the corners with three others huddled against each other. Probably a family.

Jericho sent him an annoyed look. "Ever heard of sarcasm?" he retorted. "Now, what do you losers do for fun in 'ere?" Maybe if they had snuck in some sort of tool he could escape.

No one answered but the sound of approaching raiders. Boots crunching the gravel. Jericho caught a bit of their conversation once they were close enough.

"We got a few of the bastards. Escaped slaves I think," one of them said. "'Dem ones had collars on 'em when we found 'em."

The raider that had spoken was part of the band that had brought Jericho here. He strolled up to fence, accompanied by another that the ex-raider didn't recognise. Well, Jericho didn't honestly think he was a raider, he wore actual clothing rather than rags and scrap metal and from the state of his eyes, didn't look like he regularly injected crap into himself.

"See?" The first said. He was wearing a tire over his shoulder earning him the title of 'Tire-shoulder' to Jericho.

The second nodded in approval. "Very good." He looked over each slave in the pen before his gaze then settled on Jericho. "The one in the middle, what about him?"

"Dunno, he was just… with 'em. Didn't have no collar," said tire-shoulder.

The second stepped up to the fence. "You there, in the leather. Who are you?"

Jericho knew he was speaking to him but looked around for someone else in leather anyway. Just to piss him off. He then pretended to recognise that he was being addressed. "Oh, you're talking to me." He sniggered. "My name's 'Go Fuck Yourself'."

Unamused, the guy crossed his arms. "Your parents must've loved you."

"Dearly."

The man shook his head and gave up asking about his name. "What were you doing with these slaves?"

"Making 'em dinner." That wasn't exactly false. He didn't cook them jack shit but he did let them eat from his food stash.

Jericho had been headed off to his old raider hideout back from the days when he ran with one of the gangs. He hadn't been there in a while and it was as good a place as any to lie low with Elias out and about, Jericho didn't want to cross paths with him or his pet ghoul ever again. He knew the feeling was mutual. He couldn't return to Megaton either, Moriarty'd have his head for failing the task and still getting paid for it.

Once he was there, the ex-raider stumbled upon a bunch of escaped slaves that had been using his old place to hide from slavers. He let them.

It wasn't till he went out to hunt for food that the raiders found them. They must've followed him back because once he finished digging in to his kill they showed up at his door.

And now he was here. In this pit.

Tire-shoulder produced a briefcase that they had stolen off him. "Had this with him," he said, holding it out for the other guy.

The man interrogating Jericho tore his eyes away from the pen and briefly glanced over the case. When he realised what exactly the contents were his eyes narrowed. "Where did you get this?" he questioned forcefully, his gaze still locked on the contents of the briefcase.

"Your mother's bedroom."

Jericho half expected him to be enraged but instead, he merely chuckled before saying, "I wouldn't be surprised if that was true."

Jericho gave him sideways look, one brow raised.

"I don't suppose you have a torture chamber here by any chance?" he asked the raider beside him. If he didn't know the answer to that question, he certainly wasn't from here. Jericho presumed he was one of the occasional emissaries sent over by Eulogy Jones, who was in charge of the largest slave operation in the Capital. The ex-raider was never really sure why they were sent.

The raider, in response, nodded. "That's not what we call it, though."

The man turned on his heel, snatching the case. "Grab the man in leather," he ordered from over his shoulder.

"Great," Jericho muttered as he was hoisted to his feet.

To the torture chamber we go!

Elias' POV:

"So… either of you got a plan? Or are we just going to run in there, guns blazing, shoot up the place and hope we make it out alive?" Scar questioned the both of them.

Elias lowered the binoculars that the three had been sharing. "Sounds like as good a plan as any."

"We're doomed."

"I'm kidding. There's no way we're getting through with a direct approach. We'd be shot down immediately." He kept his gaze on the raider fort, looking for another way in.

"We should strike when fortune favours us," Scar advised.

The Wanderer nodded. "Agreed. Under the cover of darkness would be our best bet." Looks like the scouting lessons Charon had lectured Elias with were paying off. "I'm going to get a closer look."

And without further warning, he tore off his combat armour and rifles till he was just in his vault suit with Amata, Kneecapper and his combat knife. He then took off down the hill they were perched on.

"If I'm not back within an hour, assume the worst!" he called back.

He felt both Charon and Scar's eyes on his back as he raced over to infiltrate the Evergreen Mills, disappearing behind a rocky outcrop.

After what felt like hours but was merely a few minutes of climbing, he heaved himself up onto yet another stone ledge with a grunt. Once at the top of the hill on the right side of the valley he let himself fall flat with a sigh. He was already exhausted.

There, right before him was a narrow dirt path snaking in between the ridge of this hill. He picked himself up and slid down.

There were watchtowers erected on either side of the valley, opposite one another. Excellent vantage points that would allow him a better view of the layout of Evergreen Mills. But also manned with snipers that he could see from his position.

Elias followed along the path towards the base of the tower on his side in a slight crouch to avoid being spotted. Once there, he began his climb.

Don't look down, don't look down, don't fucking look down

The Washington Monument was much higher than this. What was the big deal? He wasn't going to fall to a pathetic and miserable death in some raider outpost like he almost did Vernon Square.

He wished he could believe that.

Once he was just a few rungs from the top, he raised his head so that his eyes were level with the platform. There was one sniper up here, half asleep in a dining chair and facing the opposite direction.

This was his chance. He hesitantly let one hand go of the ladder to reach into his boot for his combat knife. After all, this had to be done stealthily or the entire place would be alerted.

Nice going dumbass, you looked down

Elias shuddered, feeling dizzy as a wave of nausea overcame him and pushed himself up onto the platform. He took two steps before the marksman turned his head. Before the man could stand, Elias grabbed him by the shoulder from behind and slammed the knife into his throat. The chair fell backwards with the raider's lifeless body.

Elias seized the sniper rifle from his lap.

Silenced. Good.

Not trusting his own ability with a sniper, Elias held his breath and used VATS to score a hit in the raider on the other tower's cheek.

Lowering the rifle, Elias exhaled forcefully before bringing the scope to his eye once more and turning towards the rabble that was Evergreen Mills.

Scanning the layout through the scope, he observed the many shack structures circumjacent to the main building - the factory. There was also a slave pen and an arena with a behemoth caged inside. Was that normal?

He zoomed in and could make out the raiders patrolling the area. They seemed to be separated in groups or 'gangs', as Lucy and Jericho used to say. Some had different colours and items of clothing according to their gang and were designated to a certain district. The gang that was the most prominent was one with some sort of black emblem of a skull engulfed in flames that they had painted on their backs. Jericho would know more.

Speaking of Jericho, where was that bastard? His eyes searched the slave pen, there was about ten in there but no Jericho. He looked to the main path, there he was, being shoved along by one of his captors towards the main building.

Elias groaned. This was going to be much harder than he thought.

He looked back to where the car was parked and considered going back to let the ghoul and mercenary know about this. No, that would take too much time and besides, he had a few scores to settle with the ex-raider. Scores that Charon wouldn't approve of.

Elias left the tower and made haste for the crater part of Evergreen Mills. Sniper Rifle in hand.

Somewhat relieved when he spied the sun setting on the horizon, Elias allowed a small smile to form. Sneaking in the dark would be easier than in the light.

Once there, he glanced over the ledge. It was a good three-meter way down, if he slipped he'd break a few bones. There was no doubt about it.

Below was one of the guard shacks he'd spotted through the scope, bush and shrub bordering the sides and back walls. A great hiding spot. He'd crouch in that, sneak into the shack, search for a disguise and head off to find Jericho. The slaves weren't going anywhere.

First things first

When the group of raiders talking a few paces away from the shack he was intending to enter had their backs turned, Elias stumbled down the slope. Losing his footing halfway and ending up slipping onto his ass, dirt and loose gravel sliding underneath him.

One of the raiders must've heard him during his decent since he strode over to investigate. A buddy of his called after him, "Hey, where're ya' goin', Bert?"

'Bert' approached the shrub and scanned it wearily but didn't spot the Wanderer as Elias had snuck behind the shack and out of view. "Thought I heard something," he called back, slinging his machete back into its scabbard.

The raider that had first spoken sent a goofy grin to his friends. "Are you… sher-bert?"

That must've been some sort of inside joke as everyone within earshot except Bert burst into laughter.

Bert turned to scowl at them. "I hate you all."

Elias snorted as he tried to stifle a chuckle of his own.

As soon as Bert and the others had moved off Elias ducked into the shack to find it vacant. The inside of the shack was just as sordid and squalid as the outside. After rifling around through junk and other sundries, he found dirty rags that had to pass as a shirt and pair of pants.

He held them up and winced slightly at the thought of himself wearing it but shook it off and glanced down at the vault jumpsuit he was still in. The jumpsuit was torn and shredded in most places and submerged in filth and grime, fading the vibrant blue and yellow it once adorned. But a disguise would allow to hide in plain sight while searching for the grizzled ex-raider. Waltzing around dressed in a vault jumpsuit was bound to raise a few eyebrows after all.

Elias took a deep breath and stepped out of the clothing. It was a shame, that had been his most favoured suit in the vault.

After a few moments of sliding on old raider clothing and armour he stepped out of the shack.

Dusk.

Now all he had to do was act in character. As he ambled along towards the foundry where he last saw Jericho being taken a few raiders passed by, they didn't spare any second glances to send his way but being such close proximity to them made him nervous. He picked up the pace.

Scar's POV:

Eyes on the largest raider stronghold the Capital Wastes dared to claim, the merc wouldn't admit it aloud but he was starting to get worried. Elias signed his own death warrant walking into that place.

He looked over at Elias' companion sitting on a rock a few paces away, he couldn't read whatever was on the ghoul's mind from his expression but he was certain that the guy was thinking along similar lines.

Poking his head through the window of the car to check the time, his worry only swelled. It had been two hours.

How ironic. As soon as he finds the kid, he goes off and gets himself killed… or possibly captured five seconds later. And he himself certainly wasn't doing any good just waiting around, one of the things the merc hated most was feeling as if he were useless.

"It's been over an hour. Think we should go after him?" the mercenary asked, sliding off the hood of the car. Trying to not let his impatience show.

The ghoul, whose name he was still unaware, didn't spare him so much as a glance. "He's gone after him alone," the ghoul muttered. More to himself that anything else.

Was Elias always this impulsive? "Does he pull this kinda shit often?"

"Yes." Was all he got in reply.

They spent a moment or so longer watching the outpost as if expecting it to erupt in gunfire at any second.

The mercenary sprung into the driver seat and waited a second for the ghoul and to get in. The dog was asleep in the backseat. He put the car in gear and it roared into life, swerving on the spot and kicking up dirt.

He gave the matter some thought, mulling over the various possibilities and that was when he decided to plunge headlong into folly and delve into a raider base to collect two madmen.

Reaching under his seat, he pulled out his black combat armour helm and fastened it on. Taking the hint, Charon did the same.

Without further warning, the Ford sped down the hill and towards Evergreen. Hightailing it through the gorge, swerving to avoid train cartridges.

The ghoul wriggled the top half of his body out the window of the passenger's side and used a repeater the merc had seen Elias with to shoot a raider on a bridge stretched across the gorge above them.

Once he could see the gorge widen to expand out for the main area, he veered to the left and sent the car up a ramp of a train cart that had over time sunk into the ground so that it was on a slope. They were launched into the air off the gradient, gliding a few meters before descending to the ground right in the middle of the yard, spinning around in a half donut to steer clear of the behemoth enclosure so that the front of the vehicle was facing the only exit.

As soon as the door swung open, the mercenary rolled out and popped up turned towards the car, he watched raiders flood in on the ghoul's side. The ghoul had his shotgun pointed squarely at the merc's forehead from over the car and the young man feared he was about to be shot. "Get down," the ghoul growled.

The mercenary complied.

The shell whizzed over his head and pierced the skin of a raider that had tried to get the drop on him.

More and more raiders of different gangs closed in on them, some punching into their hands or cracking their knuckles and others prepping their pipe guns and rifles in anticipation of what was to come.

The ghouls switched into a defensive stance; left foot in front, hands up at the ready with one fisted around a gleaming machete.

The mercenary mirrored the posture and flicked his twin bowie knife's up into his grasp. Using a gun was too risky, he'd only get in a shot or two before the raiders would be upon him.

The first raider to throw himself into the fight swung at the ghoul with a cleaver only to be countered, the ghoul seizing hold of the guy's wrist with his left hand and running him through with the machete in his right, twisting for good measure.

Glancing over at the cluster of shacks on the east side, the merc recognised it, he had been here once before… on business… and that was where they kept the prisoners the sick bastards liked to torture. The animal cages could be seen from where he was standing. This 'Jericho' fellow, the ghoul mentioned wasn't in the slave pen. He'd quickly scanned the coop when literally flying into the mill and no one inside was wearing leather like the ghoul described. And even if by some slim chance he was there, the ghoul would get to him.

Knowing what he needed to do, the mercenary ditched this suicidal battle and took off.

Elias' POV:

Of course the foundry had to be as dark as an uncharted cave and only add to his already high discomfort. There was a dim lantern on the floor in the centre of a trio of raiders but it hardly illuminated anything.

The raiders looked him up and down as they munched on kebabs of unidentified meat.

"Who's he? Never seen him 'fore," one whispered as Elias walked by towards a stairwell.

Another, lying on their side and propped up on one elbow answered, "I dunno. Who cares? Probably just some new meat anyways."

Maybe at some point in the past he would've been offended by the comment by right now, he was glad and thankful that they were shrugging him off. He sent them a timid smile as he gulped and quickened his steps into a power walk. Not feeling as safe without the company and support of a companion.

And he could've sworn, in that moment he felt the earth shake. Though, he dismissed it as;

Probably just the behemoth rattling its cage

Elias wandered around a bit and explored the place, doubting that Jericho was here and wondering why there were such a lack of inhabitants till he came across a room with the floor subsided and collapsed in on itself. A large ruckus could be heard from inside.

Thinking the ex-raider might be down there, Elias ventured forth through the tunnel.

The noise grew louder and louder as the Wanderer stepped closer and closer till he got a look at the place. The cavern gave way to a huge bazaar swarmed with raiders like Elias had just walked in on a human beehive. Raider hotbed alright.

Arranged around a central stone pillar were wooden platforms connected by a series of ramps. There was a small bar upon first entrance to the right with a bartender and group of patrons, over on the other side of the stone pillar was a shop with a stage and two stripper poles, dancers assigned accordingly. A large assembly of raiders with front row seats.

There was no way Jericho was here in this cave complex. This was just some sort of hub of entertainment.

About to leave, something caught his eye.

Underneath the boards joining the platforms together was a narrow passage way to a small storeroom filled to the brink with boxes, crates and barrels. Sure enough, when he scuttled over for a better look what he found were kegs of black powder.

This is for Lucy…

He used his knife to gouge a hole in the bottom of one of them, big enough to fill his hands and create a little trail as he backed out of the storeroom and towards the tunnel. He then grabbed one of the torches used to illumine the cavern and flicked a glowing ember upon the tail of the fuse. Steeling himself for the sizzling sound it made and thanking the raiders for being so noisy they missed it completely.

As the fuse fizzed away, he hoped he hadn't inadvertently broken the trail or trickled it onto something wet or a raider would arrive and catch him in the act…

Of course, one did. The raider noticed the line of fuse and his eyes widened, his mouthed formed an O as he turned to warn everyone within the vicinity.

Elias snatched his combat knife and threw it like held seen Lucy do so many times before.

Hey pal, I think you lost this.

It caught him in the throat just above the collar bone. Not a particularly accurate shot but it did the job well enough. So instead of shouting the alarm he made a muted, strangulated croak and slumped forward with his hands scrabbling away at his neck.

A few other raiders saw him drop dead but it was too late, the fuse was already at the storeroom.

They didn't know what hit them.

Elias turned his back, put his hands over his ears and curled up into a ball as the explosion tore across the stone. Something came crashing to the floor of the cave from behind him and Elias knew it was those dingy platforms. Something soft and wet then hit him in the back and he winced to even imagine what it was.

After the crack of the explosion, the screams and yells of raiders and the rumble of the walls were all he could hear.

He snapped his eyes open, witnessing blown up raiders in various states of mutilation and dismemberment, most dead and others pleading for death. He then watched his surroundings vibrate and shake, knowing this place was going to collapse at any second just like the platforms.

The wanderer scrambled to his feet, collecting his knife. The ceiling showering splinters, rubble, plaster and floating embers caused him to cough and splutter, he waved his hand in front of his face to clear smoke and particles of soot and peered into the fog to search for the tunnel.

And then he saw him.

Jericho's POV:

He'd been tossed unceremoniously into a dingy cell inside one of the shacks and left to rot, the door slamming shut behind him with an ominous clang. The raider that brought him here was on guard outside and the man that had accompanied the raider had left to get 'tools' but hadn't returned yet. Now he was even further away from the exit to this place.

He glanced around his new home, three walls of corrugated iron and one of iron bars enclosing into an empty cell. Empty of everything except him, of course. He looked through the gaps in the bars to see a desk with various equipment from hammers to knifes. A liquid that looked suspiciously like blood splashed on the ends of some. Jericho winced, even as a raider he never agreed with some of the acts other raiders would commit. Torture was one of them.

He sighed and flopped down with his back against the wall, legs out in front of him, one slightly bent at the knee and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe it wasn't worth attempting an escape, he was just going to die out in the wastes anyway. But that had to be better than dying by the hand of people he used to run with. He was screwed.

Jericho perked his head when he heard voices outside. One was certainly the guard's but the other wasn't the other man's… no, it sounded younger and… seductive?

A minute later the door crashed down the raider's body followed by a young man entering the shack adjusting his hair. When his eyes landed on Jericho he smiled but the ex-raider found it almost petrifying, chilling him to the bone. And he was bombarded with crazy thoughts ringing through his head.

Is he here to kill me?

Oh God, who sent him?

It was Moriarty wasn't it?

Fuck!

"You must be Jericho. I'm here to get you out."

Wait, what? Someone came to rescue him? "And you are?"

"A friend. That's all you need to know," he said as the cell door creaked open.

Not daring to move and remaining on the floor, Jericho squinted at him in suspicion. "I don't have any friends," he said wearily.

"You do now." The mysterious young man held out his hand to help him up, Jericho eyed him and hesitantly accepted the offer.

He reclaimed his Chinese Assault Rifle, the Xuanlong, slinging it over his shoulder they both emerged out into the night. "Where are we goin'?" he demanded.

"Follow me."

They walked through the labyrinth of shacks and tents, the whole time he spent it wondering why there wasn't any raiders here and what was making all that racket, till they made it past the last hovel and the behemoth cage was visible out in the courtyard. In front of it was a car and a horde of around thirty raiders, in the centre of which Jericho could make out the ghoul, Charon.

They were here?

His rescuer cursed something under his breath and ran off to join the fray but Jericho didn't move, couldn't move.

He watched the ghoul drop to one knee to narrowly avoid a swipe at his head, slicing the attackers left quadriceps in one swift motion. Body folding in on itself, the raider's back was left exposed – perfect opportunity for Charon to slam his machete wielding fist down upon it. There was no doubt a sickening crack of the bones in the man's spine as he dropped and Charon moved on to his next opponent.

Before the raider could so much as raise his spiked bat, Charon plunged the blade into his gut then he kicked him off the blade to meet the attack of another.

He dodged a thrust of a makeshift short sword and threw his blade from over his shoulder at the woman.

Bullets from raiders attacking him from afar riddled his armour but he shrugged them off as if it were nothing and surged onwards, charging into an unlucky and unarmed raider shoulder first, bulldozing him over.

Charon was incredible, which is why Jericho feared and awed him at the same time. But no matter how good of a fighter he was, there was no way he could keep this up.

As if somehow jinxed by Jericho's negative thoughts, a buff raider with a shield and massive one-sided axe bashed him in the back, catching him off guard. The ghoul stumbled forward and was smashed once again with the shield sending him to the ground.

His fall was avenged by the kid that had freed him, he shot the shield wielding raider from behind a few times. The raider spun around with a snarl and swung the sheet of metal in front of him to block the bullets. Running towards the kid full speed.

Jericho shook himself from his daze as his rescuer rolled to the side to evade the charge, and pulled around his assault rifle, peppering the raiders kicking at Charon.

The ghoul pushed himself up and reached for his weapons, raising his shotgun up to shoot a raider that had jumped onto the hood of the car just as Jericho received incoming fire from raiders that had spotted him.

Cursing, the ex-raider dove for cover and hunkered down.

From his position he could see a raider armed with a missile launcher perched upon the top of a train cart. Jericho knew exactly what she sought to hit: the car. If that exploded, both Charon and whoever the new guy was were dead since they were in range of the blast. And Jericho also knew exactly what he needed to do.

She was busy reloading right now, giving him the chance to make his move. He darted along the rocks, leaping across gaps flawlessly and without so much as a slip till he reached the train. He took a few steps back for a run up, sprinting as fast as his old legs would carry him and pounced.

Jericho tackled her down just as she had her sights locked.

"Sorry about this," he said before he knocked her unconscious.

Claiming the launcher for himself, Jericho took aim and blew apart raiders up on the platforms and sent them crashing to the ground.

That's when he heard the roar. A frighteningly familiar roar that swooped across the valley, drowning out the clap of gunfire and seemed to almost have the rocks shuddering in terror.

The roar of the Behemoth.

A new wave of anxiety washed over him.

The caged behemoth sought to be caged no longer, violently thumping against its restraints and tearing down the walls of its prison. Released and free to wreak havoc upon its tormenting captors.

There were very few things the wasteland had to offer that could make Jericho even remotely fearful. Supermutant Behemoths were certainly on that list, at the top to be exact. When he survived the behemoth attack back at GNR, he could hardly believe it. He was sure he, and everyone else present that day were done for. Supermutant lunch. There was no way he was surviving a second.

Everyone stopped fighting each other and directed their attacks to the monstrous beast as it slammed its fists into the dirt, sending any too close flying and the rest into disarray.

The new guy took the wheel of the car and spun out of the way, zooming off to avoid behemoth number two. "To whoever's responsible for the behemoth, I will murder you!" he yelled from his car a fist raised menacingly out the window.

Jericho chuckled. That would be the latest Top Dog. 'Top Dog's' were raider leaders that ran their own camps. Usually they would have to defeat their predecessor in the arena in order to claim ownership, their gang would become the ruling army and had first say on everything in the outpost.

A guy named 'Maddog', often called 'The strangler' by his crew, was the current leader of Evergreen Mills. He'd extirpated all competition for the position in the arena a few years back just after Jericho retired with a beast of a weapon called 'Chopper', then the barbarian somehow managed to cage a Supermutant Behemoth and now no one, not even a drug induced raider, was foolish enough to contest with him…

Jericho smiled slightly as a thought occurred to him. "Well, maybe the vault kid would," he said aloud.

It was in that moment an explosion rocked the valley, shaking the ground with a monstrous quake, flames surrounded in black smoke shot up through the chimneys of the factory.

The worst of it all? It had nothing to do with the rampaging Behemoth...

Elias' POV:

Amidst the cloud of smoky fog stood the buffest man Elias had ever laid eyes upon. From head to toe, he was muscle bounded to the point where he almost looked unnatural. A nasty scar of three streaks was slashed across his check that resembled the work of a bear claw, except Elias was sure those were extinct. Bald headed. His lips curled in a snarl that bared slightly rotten teeth.

Without consciously realising it, Elias took a cautious step back.

"Congratulations, kid. You have successfully infiltration the largest raider camp in the Capital and destroyed the main supply of powder." His voice transitioned into a growl that sent a chill done Elias' spine. "Now, you pay!"

That was the moment the Wanderer noticed the doubled edged axe stumped in the dirt beside the man who clenched his fist around the grip and hefted it up into both hands. Elias could've sworn a grim smile made a short appearance on his face before he charged forward, no longer blocking the tunnel entrance but now blocking Elias' way forward.

The Lone Wanderer threw himself out of the way, turning around to see Hercules crash into a large boulder that had fallen from the ceiling of the cavern.

Fuck that shit. He wasn't sticking around to be smashed to smithereens. He rose hastily from his semi-recumbent position on the ground and dashed off through the tunnel to the main factory. With a sharp turn, he sprinted down the staircase and beelined for the doors to the outside. Passing a few raiders cowering behind a bar. Saving Jericho was not worth his life.

The sound of Hercules' roar from somewhere behind him egged him to speed up. Elias glided out the foundry and into the courtyard of Evergreen Mills. He expected a raider crowd around the doors to the factory since they no doubt heard the explosion, he did not, however, expect there to be a crowd around a Supermutant Behemoth that had broken loose.

"What the?" he asked the empty space in front of him followed by an out of breath huff.

He watched as the Behemoth chomped the head off a raider in his hand before tossing the body away and stomping on a few other raiders gathered at its feet and stabbing it.

The Ford Falcon was circling the mass of raiders being torn apart by the Supermutant, Scar shooting out his window with a SMG. Charon was making a break for some cover and Jericho was perched upon a train carriage with a missile launcher mounted upon his shoulder.

A rocket zoomed passed the behemoth and smashed two raiders shooting at it's flank.

This was chaos.

Well, at least it's a big target

"You released the Behemoth?! You fool!" the Hercules raider yelled from behind him, stomping up to him.

Elias spun around to face the raider, his hand snaking down to subtly grip Kneecapper. "Wasn't me," he answered.

"You're dead."

"Really? Because I haven't felt so alive."

With an enraged bellow, the man swung his axe towards Elias' neck but today wasn't the day for decapitations as Elias ducked and tackled the man by the waist, popping two shells in Hercules' side.

The raider yelped and shoved Elias away with the axe in both hands, wincing at the pain the motion brought. One hand left the hilt of the axe and down to clamp around the wound, the crimson of blood staining it along with the raider's armour.

Furious now, the beast of a man attempted another swing but it was sluggish and restricted, Elias effortlessly dodged the attack and Hercules staggered as the axe flew out of his grasp and to the ground.

Not going to miss such an opportunity, Elias took aim with the sawed-off.

The shotgun was empty.

Elias cursed as he holstered it and reached for his N99.

Hercules turned to him instead of retrieving the battle-axe. "Oh no you don't," he grunted. His fist smashed into Elias' gut in an uppercut, discharging his breath from his lungs. The Wanderer coughed as his body folded forward and before he had the chance to react, another fist found his cheek. In the blink of an eye, he found himself face down in the dirt.

With a groan, Elias rolled onto his back. His head was swimming, his vision blurred and disoriented. He blinked a few times as if the action would return his focus, that's when he noticed the Hercules raider dragging the axe through the dirt towards him.

Elias patted his thigh where his N99 should've been. When he realised it wasn't there, he glanced over beside him. His pistol had clattered off.

His opponent clenched his teeth as he heaved the double-bladed weapon above his head, preparing to smite down upon Elias' sprawled out form.

The Wanderer didn't need to think to know he needed to move. He rolled away just as the blade hissed past and lodged into the ground Elias had been upon a moment ago.

Clambering to his feet, Elias dashed for the handgun. Sliding feet first and collecting it along the way. He skimmed across the ground till he came to a halt, propping himself up on one knee in a position that resembled an archery stance, he shot Hercules' as many times as his clip would allow.

The buff raider stopped mid stride and took in the sight of his own body riddled with bullets. His face fell slack, his mouth opened to speak but nothing audible escaped his lips, colour drained from his face as he looked back up at the Wanderer wide eyed.

His mouth snapped shut and he gulped before, with more success, he managed to say something. "H… how?" he rasped, dropping to one knee.

Elias slowly stood up as his brow furrowed ever so slightly. "I… don't know…"

Hercules stared at him and for a second, his rage returned, a spark ignited in his eye, he accumulated his battle-axe, swinging it for one last time… but this time, he let go. The weapon gyrated through the air at utmost speed towards Elias who only managed to turn his body to avoid the whirling blade. He was clipped on the shoulder before the axe impaled itself into the back wall of a shack behind him.

"Gah!"

The Wanderer staggered back, cradling his shoulder. A special sneer was sent to the Hercules raider but it faded when he realised that the man had fallen dead.

He was dragged back into reality by Jericho who shouted out for him, "Kid! Get your ass over here and help us!"

Elias turned towards the source. Jericho the ex-raider was waving him over, a blend of frustration and desperation in his expression, still on the train carriage.

Bewildered, Elias remembered the Behemoth when his gaze landed on it as the Supermutant swiped at the bullets whizzing through the air toward it, howling in frustration. It paused when it's eyes met Eli's. The Wanderer froze for a second as he stared from afar, its eyes like windows into hell itself.

Using the moment of distraction to their advantage, Scar drove the car between the mutant's legs from behind and Charon, who was on the currently on the back, lit aflame a petrol container and tossed it up for the beast.

The gas exploded at the apex of the parabola it would've formed had it reached the ground, burning the flesh of the Behemoth's bare stomach. It screamed and stumbled back, tripping backwards over one of the raider barracks and crushing the cluster of shacks behind it as the beast toppled down upon them.

Elias glanced back at the axe transpierced in the wall and ran over, when he couldn't pull it out, he braced one foot on the wall and pushed with it, tugging with his arms. Once free, Elias gave the blade a few test swings, marvelling at how heavy it was and the fact that the Hercules raider could wield it as if it were a small knife.

With a deep breath, the Wanderer sprinted off for the deformed Behemoth, battle-axe clutched tightly against his chest.

The Supermutant Behemoth attempted to push itself back up, failed and dropped back into the pit of flattened raider shack its huge backside must've created.

Scar jumped out of his car along with Charon as Elias whirled past.

The Wanderer leapt upon an inclined wall for a ramp, took two steps and vaulted onto the Behemoth's leg, commando rolled to evade a swipe by the mutant's hand, sprung back up and dashed for the Behemoth's head. Once he was where he deemed close enough, he pulled the axe out into one hand and pounced, axe raised above his head and smashed down onto the Behemoth's with a mighty roar.

If Elias had been at the strength of the Wastelands Hercules, he would've split apart the Supermutant's head and dissected it in two. But he wasn't, the axe only plunged about halfway as the blood splashed up at him.

The Wanderer let go of the hilt and stepped back, onto the Behemoth's chest. Deep, breaths escaping his lips as his mind caught up with his body and he realised what he'd just accomplished.

A shout of relief tore across the courtyard by all that remained of the battle, raiders, slaves and Elias' companions alike.

He turned, alamort, to face the many people gawking up at him on top of a Supermutant Behemoth… a dead Supermutant Behemoth. Some stared in awe, some in astonishment and others in fear.

It was in that moment that Elias muttered the two words ringing through everyone present's mind;

"Holy shit…"

After the caravaners that would escort the slaves back to a safe settlement extorted as much caps as their ravenous hands could possibly carry from Elias, the party of four returned to the car and prepared to set off in search of Vault 112.

"Wait for me!"

Elias, who was about to hop inside, paused.

Oh I'll wait for you, alright

Once Jericho was close enough, Elias delivered a nice punch to the man's face.

The ex-raider reeled away, clutching the lower half of his face. He spat onto the ground and wiped his face with his forearm. "I guess I deserved that," he said.

"That and more," Elias agreed.

Jericho gave him a cautious once over. "I'm coming with you, right?"

Elias folded his arms and pulled his best unimpressed look. "After what you've done?" He snickered. "I don't think so." The Wanderer turned his back on him and opened the car door again. That traitor wasn't inviting himself into the group this time.

"Then why would you come after me?"

"I came for the slaves, not you." The Wanderer looked up into the car, Scar and Charon were both staring blank-faced from the front seats.

"You have to take me with you, kid. I need something to do, something to keep me occupied and away from the alcohol, from the sketchy jobs… I need… purpose. When I was travelling with you and the blond-"

"Lucy," Elias corrected forcibly.

"You and Lucy," he said heedfully. "I had that. I had purpose."

The Wanderer averted around this time. "What? To sell us out to Moriarty?"

"No. To help you. To help you save people… for whatever reason," he added under his breath.

With a scoff, Elias shook his head and turned back to the car. He didn't even know why he was still listening to this malarkey.

"You can't just leave me here to die off in the wastes. You don't have it in you. Please, Elias... I'll do anything…"

For one last time, Elias looked back, over his shoulder. Jericho had his head hung, he turned back and waved dismissively. "You know what? Forget it. Forget I ever asked. Forget I was ever here." And he walked down the hill.

Sighing, "Wait," said Elias. Jericho looked back. "You can come… but on my conditions. You answer to me, stop calling me "kid" and if I so much as suspect any treachery from you, you're out."

The ex-raider stepped up to him, a new spark of hope glinting in his eye, he grabbed a hold of Elias' hand and shook it eagerly numerous times before Elias withdrew his hand. "Thank you, k- I mean, Hawke," he corrected. "I promise you won't regret this."

I better not

"And one other thing… I get to call you 'Jerry'…"

A/N: Haven't really edited this last bit, do tell if it feels a bit drab.

How many Mad Max references could you pick up? There's about ten.

Oh and Scar is an OC of mine. Got a nice backstory planned out for him.

Rate this chapter and my story:

0- you need to go back and rewrite this at least a hundred times.

5- Alright

10- Fabulous

Next chapter will be out in 20 weeks. XD