"Who are you? What are you doing?" One of the armed Minutemen asked them. They looked at them sternly but with faint curiosity. His uniform identified him as a Lieutenant.
"Just a couple of prospectors, is all." Erica answered. Without looking, she could feel Charles tensing. He was so used to shooting these people, being this close unarmed was unnerving.
"Scavenging, huh?" One of them said. "Find much?"
"Nope." Erica answered, pretending to sound disappointed.
"You guys won't find much out here. Place was nuked to hell. Still get scary Rads in some spots. Plus Deathclaws wander around here. You two should be careful."
"Keep an eye on these two, Lance Corporal, while we attend to the Delta-Charlie."
Two of the Minutemen turned away from them, walking towards their comrades attending to the Deathclaw carcass. They were using chainsaws to chop up the body into smaller pieces and placed those bits into sealable bags.
"There's not a lot of meat on this. Hardly seems worth it."
"It was fun though."
"Jones, you think shooting anything is fun!"
"Fuck yeah! Shooting anything with a Sprtel Wood Model 95000-BMFG Fuselage-Mounted Gatling Laser Cannon is fun! You tell me you don't get a massive kick from pulling the trigger on that thing? Hey, remember what Sarge Woods used to say? Anyone who runs is Canadian Bacon, anyone who stands still is deep fried Canadian Bacon!"
They broke out in laughs and then into a "U-S-A!" chant.
"Knock it off or I'll be using you for target practice!" The Lieutenant barked, and his words had the desired effect on their productivity.
"Remember, cut above the wrist and we can make more gauntlets."
Erica could feel Charles tensing with anger. He was staring ahead with hard eyes. He wanted nothing more than to gun them down.
"You don't talk much, do you?" The Corporal said to Charles.
Charles said nothing but his staring eyes focused on the young Corporal.
"You got a problem, wastey?"
"Charles, relax." Erica said, almost begging.
Charles said nothing, continuing to stare at the Corporal, his eyes full of hate. The Corporal stared back, no longer bored.
"You got a problem with us killing a Deathclaw? You some kind of pinko commie tree hugger? That's rich. I got news for ya punk, there aren't no trees left to hug. So look away before I give you my M-14 to hug!"
"Charles…"
"Look away!" The Corporal yelled.
Erica felt the situation sliding rapidly out of control, beyond her ability to stop it.
"I said look away you little wastey or imma gonna waste your ass right here!" The Corporal stepped towards Charles, Charles stepped forward, inches separated their wrathful faces.
"Ohh, you think you baddass, huh? Imma gonna frag your ass so bad it's gonna go round the world five times and end up in your throat!"
Charles' fists clenched. Erica had to act now or hell would break loose. She noticed they were drawing the attention of the rest of the platoon.
"Lieutenant!" She yelled.
A good commander must possess a good command voice, a voice that is loud and commands unquestioning and immediate respect and obedience. Luckily, the Lieutenant had one of those voices.
"Lance Corporal Dawson! Stand down!" The Corporal backed away and looked fearfully to his Lieutenant.
"Stand at attention when I'm talking to you!" The Corporal quickly complied.
"Goddammit, Corporal. How many briefings have you been to? How many times have we stressed the need to win hearts and minds to bring back the glory of the Stars and Stripes to these people? You don't win hearts and minds by yelling at civies! Am I clear?" The corporal nodded.
"What? I didn't hear you?"
"Sir, yes sir!"
"What? I thought I heard a parakeet fart."
"SIR, YES SIR!"
"Good! Now turn around and apologize to the man."
The corporal was immobile.
"Do you have a hearing problem!?"
The Corporal weakly turned around. Charles was still staring at him hardly. The Corporal looked away. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" The Lieutenant interjected.
"I'm sorry for…harassing you."
"Apology accepted." Erica interjected. She wanted to punch Charles in the face, but now wasn't the time.
"Lance Corporal. Return to base. I think it's best if you double-time it. You better start now. If you're not back by 0200 hours you're gonna spend the next three weeks on K.P."
The Corporal said nothing and started off.
"Right men, are we done?"
"Just about, sir."
The Lieutenant turned to them.
"On behalf of the government and Army of the United States of America and the Great Midwest Commonwealth, I offer our most sincere apologies. The Corporal has been under a lot of stress lately. Is there anything you require that we can compensate you?"
"Do you have any bedroll kits? We need two." The Lieutenant nodded and went back to the Veribird and fetched them two bedroll kits.
"Thank you." Erica accepted gratefully. She might have to put with him but at least she didn't have to sleep with him anymore. Charles had turned away fuming.
"My… husband's had a rough summer. He had a big accident and lost someone."
The Lieutenant nodded sympathetically. "It's been like that for all of us, regardless of the season. Take care of yourself and your husband ma'am. It's nice to see there's still married people out here in the wastes. Makes me believe there's still hope for us."
"All set L.T.!"
The Vertibird's engines began buzzing. The Lieutenant nodded to Erica and boarded the craft. It rose into the sky, kicking up a blinding storm of dust and debris, and flew off in the distance.
Erica waited before the Vertibird was out of sight before she lunged at Charles. He'd bent over to pick up their weapons. She knocked him over and landed one solid punch on his nose before he grabbed her hands. She struggled to break free of his grasp, to hit him one more time, but his hold was solid. Seeing him bleed offered some small satisfaction.
"You fucking idiot! You almost got us killed!"
They spun around on the ground. Charles found himself a top her. He swung a fist at her but she deflected it, and it bounced off her shoulder. She grabbed his wrists and the struggled continued. From afar, it looked like something entirely different was happening.
"They're fucking yanks, tabernac! They killed my friends and bragged about it!"
"Aren't you supposed to be the disciplined one? What was it you said to me that first night? 'You have to be disciplined to survive.' We have a mission to accomplish! Remember that?"
A strange look passed through his eyes and he stopped struggling. He stood up and offered his hand to her. Erica ignored his outstretched hand and stood on her own.
"Let's go. We're almost there and I can't wait for this fucking mission to be over. I deserve a ten thousand cap bonus just for putting up with you!"
Charles ignored her, but Erica could tell he was genuinely sorry, and her frustration waned. There were times he infuriated her, yet he wasn't without endearing qualities. One minute she liked him, the next she wanted to crush his skull. It was the maddening ambiguity that angered and flustered her the most. How was she supposed to react to him?
Erica felt her broken leg getting heavy. She replaced the battery, noting she was down to a handful of batteries. Enough for two days, three if she was creative. She ran to catch up with him, he hadn't stopped to wait for her. She was adapting to missing her toes and though she would never have full mobility or speed, she was keeping pace with him.
They walked purposefully, with an extra bounce in their stride, similar to what marathon runners feel when the finish line is in sight. They kept their weapons drawn and their eyes alert. They spoke only when necessary. The silence grew less tense as the day went on, the anger gradually dissipating like morning mist. They emerged from the vast, infinite plains of rubble into something clearer, yet nonetheless desolate, by mid afternoon.
"Is this it?" Charles asked, looking at the empty space before him. There was a strange sort of emptiness before him, something that differentiated it from the countless other forms of devastation. There were bare rolling hills and mutilated tree stumps. Before him, in a pool of thick sand, stood a swing set. Hanging from it was but a single swing. The other swings had long ago vanished. It stood as a monument to lost innocence, joy, and life.
"Yep." Erica said with evident relief. She looked away from the swing set, not wanting to contemplate its horrifying implications.
"Where do we go from now?"
"Just a few hundred yards that way."
They walked at a brisk pace. Charles recognized this area from the aerial pictures taken from the drone. He knew well enough not to get too far ahead of himself. There might be creatures about. And no telling how hard the door lock would be to crack.
"There it is!" Erica shouted, almost in joy, upon seeing the steel door. The door was built into the ground, at the bottom of a deep valley; it looked like the entrance to a military bunker.
"Ah merde! Colisse de tabernac!" Charles swore, kicking at the ground.
"What is it?"
"My lock-picking tool. It was in my rucksack back on the island."
For once, Erica wasn't fazed. She fished into her pockets and pulled out some bobbypins and an old Swiss Army Knife. She extended the flat-headed screwdriver from the knife and handed it to Charles.
"You can use these to pick a lock."
"Really?" Charles was taken aback. She'd never seen him with such a puzzled look before.
"Some master lock-picker you are." She teased.
He grinned at her as he took the tools. He knelt down in front of the door. It was a pressure-sealed door, common enough in military and other high level buildings. It completely sealed off the building from outside air, creating a safe and sterile environment. These locks were harder to crack than most, but it could be done with enough skill and patience. It was a good thing he'd read a copy of Tumblers Today before leaving on this mission, they had a good article about these kinds of door locks.
"Oh, I get it!" Charles said, slipping the bobbypin in and using the knife for torque. He felt around cautiously, he didn't want to break any of the bobbypins, Erica had only given him five and there'd probably be more locks to pick.
Their enthusiasm dimmed when they heard the howling of a wolf. A single howl was rapidly answered by many others. They sounded close, less than two hundred yards away. Erica readied rifle and kept her eyes peeled. She flicked the safety to semi-auto.
"Use short bursts!" Charles advised.
"You do your job, I'll do mine!"
Charles fiddled with the bobby pin, changing the angle a few degrees but felt tension whenever he pressured the knife. He swore but continued to try different angles. The wolves howled again and they sounded much closer. Charles tried and different angle and pushed forward, the lock turned and for brief factions of a second felt hope until he felt tension. He pushed the bobbyin further up and tried again, the lock turned more, but he felt it tense when it had made a quarter of a revolution.
"Almost there." He said.
"So are the wolves."
His next try got it a bit further, halfway to the sweet spot. Erica saw the wolves; 10 of them, looking down upon them. Their fur was bleach white and lined with patches of black dark as pitch. They were growling and barring their teeth at them, though they made no approach, pacing menacingly on the ridge above them. Erica aimed her rifle at the biggest wolf, the Alpha Male, and fired a short burst of gunfire. Bullets tore into its mid-side. It knocked the animal back but it remained on its feet, though wounded. It growled vengefully but made no move. Erica panned her rifle around and spotted a wolf trying to sneak down the hill upon them. She opened fire with two short bursts and it killed the animal. The Alpha Male barked. She continued to scan with her rifle; the wolves had split up, each far from the other and at various angles. All they were waiting for was a single command from the Alpha Male and they would leap upon them, and there wasn't much Erica could do to stop them.
"Hurry!" She yelled, her voice laced with panic and worry.
"Just about there." Charles said. He pushed forward with the knife, closing his eyes as the lock turned. Slowly it turned until it made a half revolution and hit the sweet spot.
"Got it!" He shouted. There was a loud click as the door unlocked and began to open. Erica didn't wait for the wolves to react. She fired a burst at one wolf, wounding it, then spun around and fired another burst at another wolf. The wolves began charging. Erica spun around again. The Alpha Male was coming straight for them, his hungry jaws open wide, rapidly closing the distance. Erica fired but the burst did nothing to slow him down.
She felt a violent force grab her and pull her back. She fell briefly before landing hard. She continued to fire as she fell, hitting the wolf with another burst of fire. The wolf staggered but continued its relentless pace. There was a metallic whine and the steel doors rose upward and closed. There was a loud bang as the wolves collided with the closed door. Erica looked up at Charles who extended his hand to her. She grabbed it and he helped her to her feet.
"That was good shooting." He said.
"That was good lock-picking."
They looked at another awkwardly for a few moments before Erica looked away.
"So, we're in."