This Chapter is fairly short, but I wanted to wrap up the Super Duper mart and get the gang back to Megaton. Make sure to go to my profile and vote on the poll there, IT WILL DECIDE THE DIRECTION OF THE STORY!
As always, thank you for reading and be sure to review/follow/favorite/etc.
Through the other side of the door the pack could hear the man start up again. "OH FUCK! NO NO NO NO! WE'VE BEEN HIT BOSS!"
A deeper, scratchier voice resounded. "You are fucking me Rog! How many dead?"
"All of them. Fuck even Babygirl! Damn waste of a twat."
All of the werewolves in the room moved towards the doorway.
"What the fuck do we do?!" hissed Jackson.
Derek could clearly hear at least a dozen rapidly thudding heartbeats. And he could even smell some something canine on the other side of the door. It was Jackson who was looking up towards the ceiling, as if puzzling something out.
"Jackson?" Allison asked, concerned for her friend.
Derek looked over to him, then up towards the ceiling. Then back towards Jackson, who finally tore his gaze away from the ceiling looked Derek in the eyes.
The look of comprehension and understanding that flashed between them was a testament to the power of packs.
/*/
Garth was really having a bad day. He had taken half of his surviving crew out on a raid earlier that day, towards Grayditch. The town was overrun with pissed off Fire Ants, so Garth had to cancel the expedition and move everyone back towards the Mart. Now in his four hours of going out, half of his crew was dead, and some soon to be regretful assholes had made off with his stash.
That was what he thought until he realized that nothing had been taken, and a small pile of goods had been formed on a table near the back. The computer monitor was on.
Garth merely smiled at the thought. He motioned for another one of his raiders, a surly looking man wielding a nail board to go investigate the room.
The raider nodded and moved towards the door. As he went to open the door, Garth's dogs began to whimper. All of a sudden this became far too easy. All of a sudden a loud clang echoed from behind him. Or was it above him… Oh shit!
"Wait!-" Garth began to shout before the raider opened the door, only to have a laser melt off his face. A gutteral howl merged from behind him, and both dogs immediately turned on their handler, biting his calves and left hand.
The maintenance Protectron ambled forward, firing lasers off at Raiders left and right. Garth saw a shape roll out behind the robot and before he knew it, bullets were flying towards his raiding party. Several men were attacking his party from- fuck every side!
A large man smashed his way into the group, cracking skulls left and right. Garth whipped out a sawed off shotgun at the man, who had red eyes and fangs, and fired both rounds.
The man didn't even seem fazed by the several dozen buckshot embedded in his chest.
He merely snarled and tore into Garth with razor sharp claws.
Garth fell to the ground, his gaping wounds seeping blood everywhere. Two other similar creatures were making their way through the group, brawling and tearing apart their crew with minimal effort.
The last thing Garth saw was a thin girl emerging from the back room, a small brown bag over her shoulder.
Then he closed his eyes as his men fell around him. It had been a very bad day.
/*/
Danny moved from the back room, having finally gathered the last of the items out of the storage. The gang had almost finished looting this new group of individuals when Derek moved to address Danny.
"You sorted through all of that? That quickly?"
Danny nodded. Despite the overwhelming amount of stuff in the storage room, there had been little of value. Danny had put any working technology in the wooden crates, alongside the booze, ammunition, Nuka-Colas and the Mini-Nuke Boyd had recovered.
"Good work, help us finish scavenging and then we'll get out of this place." He could tell Derek was antsy to leave, and knew that he was worried about Stiles. Danny moved over towards a raider who was slumped against the wall. Hesitantly he began to dig through the man's pockets, seeing if he had any caps or bullets. As his hand enclosed around some loose objects, the raider raised his head. Red flags went off in Danny's head, and before he could move back the man scowled. "F-fuck you kid!" Danny pulled backwards but the raider pressed his gun into Danny's side.
He fired. Danny screamed as his world began to spin.
/*/
Derek turned around the moment he heard the raider speak and moved, but it was too late. Jackson was furious, running down towards the raiders and clawing at his face. Boyd had been out front, keeping an eye out for further raiders, but now he was inside racing towards the back. Derek was holding up Danny, a hand pressed against his side.
"Hold on Danny, we are going to get you out of here. Stay with me."
Allison raced over towards them, digging into the bag filled with medicine.
"Derek, what the fuck do I do?" She was shaking trying to grasp anything.
Derek looked at a loss, but Boyd spoke up. "Get one of the stimpacks out."
Allison dug and grabbed one of the pressure-gage syringes that Derek had seen earlier in Church's clinic.
"Allison, he's losing a lot of blood!" Jackson shouted, his attention now fully on his friend and not on the gory mess behind him.
Allison removed the cap and jabbed the needle into Danny's side. Danny let out a whimper and convulsed.
Derek was still focused on Danny's face when he heard Danny's breathing pick up. He looked down at the wound. His eyes widened.
The gunshot wound was rapidly healing as though Danny were a werewolf. Color returned to his cheeks, and Danny groaned as the wound closed. There would be a scar, but he was otherwise fine.
Danny looked around the room, registering the scene before him.
Derek was standing over him, Jackson and Boyd were standing by him; Allison was sitting beside him, with a gigantic syringe in her hand. He looked over to get a glimpse of the raider that shot him, but all he could see was a gigantic pile of ripped leather and gore. Oh shit.
He turned to Jackson. "So, did you get him?"
Jackson looked embarrassed for a moment. "Yeah, I got him"
"Can you stand up Danny?" Derek asked with clear concern.
"Yeah I think so." Danny moved to sit up. He didn't feel bad, in fact he felt considerably better now that there wasn't a gaping hole in his body. But he did feel off, as though he was coming down from a caffeine high, or a booze high even. He slowly stood up and moved back towards the pile of goods, slowly packaging things up in boxes.
He turned around to the other members of his pack. Allison and Jackson were slightly agape, while Derek and Boyd looked at him with curiosity.
"What?" Danny asked, not realizing how close he had come to death.
Derek simply nodded slowly and motioned for the rest of the group to continue working, all the more wary of every dead man they touched.
I've got some more material loaded up, enough for several shorter chapters. I should be getting into the swing soon, but first I need to overcome my writer's block :(
Thanks for reading!
