Chapter 23: Brotherhood Caravan
Lucas Simms pulled his brown beaded cowboy hat off of his sweaty hair and squinted into the sunlight, staring southwest of MegaTon. He had made a daily routine of waking up early to visit Stockholm at his post, high above MegaTon's front gate, so he could survey the wasteland and the transients camped out in front of his town for any sign of danger.
Today he was more edgy than usual. As he looked out over MegaTon, past the deep bomb crater, and above the rusting tin roof of Moriarty's Saloon, he could just make out a narrow column of smoke billowing on the horizon. Through the morning haze he could tell it was rising from the outline of TenPenny Tower which was little more than a reddish shadow far off in the distant sands.
Simms furrowed his brow and spit over the wall in front of him; watching the spittle fall for a second or two before it crashed into the dust. He then wiped his dry lips and began to descend from the overlook, walking down the stairs to ground level.
As he went to walk over to his house to wake his son, he ran into Dameon who was making his way towards the front gate.
"Dameon," Simms rubbed some dust from his stubbly cheek and made an annoyed smile, "heading out already?"
Dameon didn't respond. He looked up at the sky for a moment. He was wearing his black cloak. The thin fabric of his now inactive sneak suit was draped over it. He had two rifles slung over his back along with a travel sac that hung down near his side. A bottle of water sloshed around on his waist.
"I'll keep an eye on your things while you're gone," Simms nodded to himself while attempting to walk past him.
"Don't bother," Dameon's voice was grave. He dug down into his side pocket and handed Simms an old, crumpled piece of brown paper.
"What's this?" Simms began to try and unwrinkle the wad of paper while glancing up at Dameon.
"The deed to my house," Dameon nearly whispered.
"Huh," Simms stopped what he was doing and looked up, "why are you giving it to me?"
"Do with my house what you will," Dameon shrugged and then walked away, "I'm leaving," he flexed his shoulders to pull the weapons and cargo draped around them closer into his body before staring up at Stockholm to signal him to open the gate.
"What?" Simms' face went black, he took a few quick steps to catch up to Dameon, "you already made me kick everyone out of there. . your cargo. . .your. . .why?"
As the gate began to creak open Dameon glanced back, "there's nothing left for me here. . .anymore. . .just a memory."
(***********************************************************************)
"Keep moving wastelander."
The Brotherhood sentry tried to shoo away a dirty teenage girl who had stopped to loiter around the edge of the Brotherhood encampment. The sentry was hot and uncomfortable in his heavy plated power armor. He pulled off his helmet revealing a beet red face. Steam seemed to rise up from inside his armor and swirl around his scalp.
Eleven Brotherhood soldiers had set up a row of tents at the edge of the shanty town in front of MegaTon. They had been posted there months ago to protect and keep track of the water caravans that Rivet City ran from the Jefferson Purifier down to MegaTon and the other settlements that dotted the wastes. Recently, they had also begun to monitor the escalating attacks by the Talon Company.
The amount of desperate people that wandered within inches of their tents was unnerving to the Brotherhood soldiers. They constantly had to chase transients and thieves away before they could pilfer their ammo, weapons, or foodstocks. The soldiers were morally weary of being surrounded by so many desperate beggars; people were starving to death within feet of them as they ate breakfast at their mess table.
Keira had settled in with the Brotherhood as she prepared, along with the rest of the soldiers, to make the long trek back into the DC area to resupply. She was busy with picking the scant meat off of an an old iguana leg, sitting next to a long plastic folding table a few feet in front of the green command tent. It was an extremely hot day; her long black hair was matted to her cheeks and neck. As she sweated from the sweltering heat, she sipped on the last mouthful of water left in one of her water bottles. As she tossed the empty bottle aside into the rocky sand, she saw Dameon walk over to the Brotherhood sentry who was guarding the entrance to the command tent.
The sentry nearly backed up all the way into the tent as he saw Dameon approach.
"Who. . .what are you? Some kind of ghoul?"
Dameon was stone, "I'm here to see Commander Colvin,"
The sentry was silent for a second, studying the disfigured, wasting man in front of him, "Is he expecting you? I don't remember him saying-"
"Tell him Dameon Rayes wants to speak with him about the Anchorage Memorial."
The sentry cocked his head to the side and then nodded before disappearing into the command tent.
From her seat a few feet away, Keira dropped her gristly iguana meat and stood up, "you're. . .you're Dameon Rayes?"
Dameon glanced over to her as the sentry and another solider ducked out from the command tent.
The other man was taller than the sentry and older than an ordinary soldier. His graying hair was neatly parted to the right side. He had serious, deep brown eyes and a long scar that bisected his lips.
"I said you're Demon Rayes?" Keira repeated. Her tone was irate. She walked up closer to Dameon, glaring at him with a look that could have turned him to ice.
"Yeah," Dameon answered, slightly confused. He looked back to the two Brotherhood soldiers that had exited the command tent.
"You fucking murderer!" Keira drew a long Bowie knife from the hilt on her side and charged at Dameon before he could react.
Keira went to tackle him to the ground. He stood in place and braced his body. He had become so heavy from his chalky, bony overgrowths that he was an immovable rock; Keira nearly bounced off of him as he pushed her back with both arms. As he did so, Keira slashed her knife across his left arm making a long, narrow cut in his cloak and his chalky skin. A small stream of blood began to soak though Dameon's clothing and drip down to the sand.
As Dameon glanced down at his wound, Keira went to kick him in the crotch. He was able to block the low blow and went to grab Keira's knife wielding arm, but she was too fast. She was able to pivot away from him while he was off balance and stab him under his left arm just above the elbow. She then pushed him forward as hard as she could, so she could drive her knife deep into the top of his back next to his spine.
"Stop her!" the older knight waived for a group of soldiers to break up the fight.
A knight grabbed Keira from behind and put her in a full nelson, immobilizing her arms, while another knight shoved himself between Dameon and Keira to separate them.
Keira cursed at the knights and Dameon red faced, "Fuck you, you cowardly chicken pieces of shit! And you, murderer! I hope you burn in hell!"
The Brotherhood knight began to drag her off, away from the command tent. After he had taken her a few feet back, she jerked out of his grasp and broke free. Instead of renewing her attacks, she shook herself off and spit in Dameon's direction while giving him the finger. She then stormed off until she was lost to the crowds of traders and beggars.
"What the hell was that about?" the older knight walked over to an agitated Dameon.
Dameon examined the cut to his arm and the wound in his side. Neither were particularly deep, "Don't know."
"Well you're certainly a popular man. . . Demon Rayes?"
"Dameon."
The knight nodded, "I'm Commander Colvin," he pointed towards the green command tent, "come inside."
Dameon ducked into the tent after Colvin. It was smaller and more Spartan on the inside then Dameon would have guessed. Inside were two rows of cots and footlockers. A few spare rifles and boxes of stale prewar cereal were scattered around the sandy floor. Near the center was a small card table with an old computer monitor that hummed in the omnipresent heat.
"Command originally sent us here to speak with you. But that was several months ago, where have you been all this time?" Colvin leaned against the computer table.
"Around," Dameon sniffed.
"I see," Colvin paused unamused, "well you came to see me. So just tell me what you know about what happened at the Memorial."
"I want to talk to the generals in the Citadel. I'll tell them what you want to know."
"About the Memorial?" Colvin squinted.
"About the Memorial and the rise of the Talon Company."
Colvin looked at him for a second confused, "you're saying they're related? Well you can tell me, I'll report everything to them once I return. Those were my original orders. Sit down over there and I'll debrief you," Colvin went to slide a chair over to the table.
"No," Dameon coughed into his hard hand. A trickle of blood seeped down his arm, "I'm only going to tell them."
"Why?" Colvin bent over and leaned under the desk. He began to fiddle with a small safe lying on the sand under it, "what do you want, caps? I can pay you right here-"
"I don't want caps. I want to talk to the Brotherhood generals. . .I need to ask them something."
Colvin licked his lips, studying Dameon, "Normally I'd tell you to fuck off, we don't deal this way with outsiders. . .however, the old man was pretty interested in what you had to say. . . at least back when we were deployed," Colvin trailed off and looked up to the pointed ceiling in thought; "the Rivet City mercs and my soldiers are heading out tonight. We're going back to the Citadel en route to Rivet City. . .you have my permission to come along in our caravan. I will escort you to the Citadel and once we're there, they'll decide whether or not they'd like to speak with you. Got it?"
Dameon nodded.
"In the meantime you can help yourself to some of our rations and supplies outside. Be ready to leave by eighteen hundred," he waived Dameon off.
(***********************************************************************)
Dameon's stomach gurgled as he scanned the mess table looking for something to eat. The table was full of food; a few tins of Spam, three skewered iguanas, a wok of squirrel stew, and a large bowl of noodles. All of the seats at the table were taken, save the one next to two raggedy looking Rivet City guards where Keira had been eating before she stormed off.
As Dameon sat down in the empty seat, the guards next to him shot up to their feet disgusted and walked away. The Brotherhood soldiers opposite Dameon and farther down the table likewise leaned back in their seats with looks of revulsion. A few of them got up to leave the moment he sat down.
Dameon tried to ignore them; he reached over the table to a giant metalic bowl of noodles and went to scoop some of them into his cup. As he went to grasp the large ladle a knight pulled the bowl away from him over to herself.
"I was going to eat that," Dameon grumbled.
"It's our food," one of the other knights muttered.
"I was offered it."
"Just let me get some of it first, before you. . .touch it," the female knight seemed to shutter at the thought. She spooned a few helpings of noodles into her bowl and pushed the bowl back in Dameon's direction.
Dameon sneered as he watched her slide the bowl over to him like he was a leper. After the bowl came to a rest in front of him, Dameon began to exaggeratedly cough and hack into his hands, making loud retching noises while wiping his face with his sleeves.
"Euck. . .God," all of the other knights stood up from the table and walked away in disgust.
Dameon stopped coughing once they left. He looked around, and realizing that he was now alone, he smiled and piled a mound of food onto his plate.
Chapter 24: Dukov's Place
Dameon paused to sit down on a small rock pile so he could empty the gravel out of his boot that had been plaguing him since early morning. He slipped off his old boot and turned it upside down and watched as the gravel poured out of it like rain. As he watched the gravel stream slow to a trickle, he looked up and studied the decaying D.C. skyline.
The journey through the desert thus far had been relatively easy, there had been no attacks by raiders, no marauding animals, and the weather had been refreshing as a cloud bank had moved in and obscured the stifling morning sun. The sixteen man strong caravan had glided across the desert with their four pack Brahmin, never straying from the main trade routes. Thus far they hadn't had to fire a shot and they had been making good time towards the Citadel.
Keira had joined the caravan just before they had left MegaTon. She hadn't made eye contact with Dameon since their prior fight, instead she had briefly chatted a few times with other Rivet City guards before taking a position on point, at the head of the caravan.
Dameon still had no idea why Keira had such a grudge against him. He actually found her likeable, unlike most of the other people he had come across in the wastes. She, like him, seemed to be something of loner, and her attitude was as tough as nails. She was attractive too, although Dameon knew that the feeling would never again be mutual.
As Dameon went to put his boot back on, Keria glanced back in his direction. He looked to see if she was looking at him, but she immediately averted her gaze and turned around to continue walking forward.
Dameon had lingered in the rear of caravan near the pack Brahmin for the entire journey, away from Keira, and far back from the Brotherhood soldiers who seemed to be sickened from the sight of him. The only soldiers near him were Colvin, who was not a very good conversationalist, and a Brotherhood medic who was reluctant to accept an outsider along side him.
As Dameon stood back up he caught a strong whiff of Brahmin from the four beasts just ahead of them. They smelled musky and rank, their saliva hung down in long streams of drool from their ceaselessly bobbing heads. Dameon had grown to hate being around the four animals because of their smell and stubbornness. He thought about how delicious they would be grilled with MutFruit.
As Dameon took his place back in the rear of the caravan, one of the Brotherhood soldiers out in point put up his hand in a motion for the others to stop. As they did, Dameon began to walk closer to the front; he was tired of smelling the obnoxious pack animals and wanted to get a better handle on what had brought them to a halt. He ducked down and slowly made his way forward to the mass of soldiers who were huddled together.
"Well?" Colvin whispered up to the point man.
One of the knights in point crept over to him, "I heard something up there. Thought I saw some shadows."
Colvin nodded. He motioned for the caravan to remain still.
Dameon was squatting on the ground, waiting for Brotherhood's next move. In front of the caravan was a curvy stretch of asphalt road, flanked by tall buildings on the right and left sides.
Dameon flexed the muscles in his feet to try and dull the tension, before turning back to the pack animals behind him. They seemed skittish as they hoofed the asphalt and snorted the afternoon air.
Dameon scanned the buildings around him to take his mind off the tension. It wasn't unusual to hear strange noises in the D.C. ruins. Besides the howls of the raiders and mutants the buildings themselves actually made a great deal of noise. Since they hadn't been maintained over the centuries since the war, their decaying frames would often groan loudly as they swayed on rusting skeletons. As the metro tunnels below collapsed from disrepair the ground would shift, sending entire skyscrapers crashing down to the ground in pulverizing waves of dust and debris.
The buildings around them at this moment were rather nondescript. As Dameon tried to pick out a familiar landmark, he noticed that behind him, off a bit to the left of the Brahmin, was a large white, fortified structure that he recognized as Dukov's place. The lecherous old man had lived there up until a few years ago. Dameon had visited him once while he scavenging the D.C. ruins to attempt to trade, but the man was uninterested in anything but insulting him and poon.
"Down!"
Dameon couldn't tell which of the knights had given the order, but all of them ducked for cover. Dameon broke away from the pack and hid behind a column near the portico of an old department store. Keira was a dozen or so feet ahead of him, ducking behind a fallen column next to a burly knight with a chain gun. Several of the other knights took cover behind a rusted out car on the other side of the street. Colvin remained towards the rear, while the knights and Rivet City men on point poked out above the staircases of two half collapsed brownstones.
After the initial shuffle of them scattering subsided, all of the soldiers remained silent, listening for any foreign sound.
All of a sudden, a large mutant darted out of the shell of the crumbling department store, twenty yards in front of Dameon, and mere feet from Keira. It ran hunched over across the street to the left side, right in front of the point soldiers, before disappearing into the maze of buildings.
The knight in point across the street from Keira and Dameon had raised his laser rifle to fire at the hideous creature but Colvin waived him down from the rear.
As the solider lowered his weapon and watched the creature disappear, another mutant began to run across the street, slightly farther up the road, exiting the same structure as the first, followed by a centaur, and then by another wounded mutant that was desperately trying to run on a crippled leg.
Dameon pulled an assault rifle from his back and took aim at the crippled mutant. As it came into focus, a shot rang out and dug into the mutant's skull brining it to the ground before it was able to reach the other side of the street.
The knights all looked right instantly. The shot had come from the department store the mutants were fleeing. As the soldiers turned their attention to that structure, a man wearing sky blue armor hopped down from one of the building's second story windows, deftly slid down a rubble pile, and swept the direction the mutants had fled from with a long rifle, all without making a sound.
Dameon's crosshairs zeroed in on the man.
A fucking Praetorian?
One of the Brotherhood knights of the left side of the road took a pot shot at the Praetorian from behind a granite staircase. The shot missed and the Praetorian spun around, scanning the Brotherhood soldiers for a second before doing a quick roll into cover behind a metro sign on the left side of the street.
"RAPTORS!" one of the knights screamed.
Dameon saw a pair of arms swing out from behind the farthest column of the department store's portico, a bit aways from Keira's post. They moved in a flailing motion like they were heaving softballs. As the shapes disappeared back behind the corner he could hear a series of dull thuds on the concrete.
GRENADES!
A series of grenades detonated next to each of the Brotherhood emplacements as if the Praetorians knew exactly where each one of them was hidden. After the deafening sounds of the explosions died down, a fog of dust began to settle over the street. Several Praetorians began to shoot at the knights from farther up the road, though the fog; they were only visible from the brief flashes of light from their muzzle blasts. Their fire was deadly accurate, cutting down the two well entrenched Rivet City Guards before the knights could collect themselves enough to return fire.
The knight next to Keira started up his chain gun and sent a wave of lead into the building the Praetorians on the right were using as cover, while Keria fired her plasma pistol at the Praetorian behind the metro sign.
Gun fire crackled up and down the road as seven more sky blue armored Praetorians slid down from an embankment next to the department store and began to train their rifles on the dug-in knights while lobbing grenades in their direction.
As Keira ducked from another wave of grenades, Dameon watched as the first Praetorian broke from his cover and stormed the knights out in point on the other side of the street. The Praetorian slammed his rifle down on the shoulder of one of the kneeling knights with one hand and drove a knife in-between the joints of the knight's armor with the other. A knight next to him tried to grab the Praetorian's weapon, but the Praetorian was inhumanly strong, and snapped the knight's armored arm in one twist.
Dameon went to shoot the Praetorian in the back, but heard the thud of a grenade land within a few feet of him. He instantly darted right, into the old department store the Praetorians had emerged from, and took cover.
After the grenade went off, Dameon went back to the entrance to scan the portico. He looked out and watched as a Praetorian with a combat shotgun fired again and again in Colvin's direction, from a second story window, forcing the commander to marine crawl down into a gutter.
As Dameon peered at the scene, a bullet whizzed by his head. He ducked and watched as a Praetorian sniper hit the knight with the chain gun smack between his eyes. The impact sprayed Keria with blood and the heavy knight collapsed onto her. Another knight with an RPG went to help her up when a shot cut his leg off at the knee.
Flif. Fhew.
Two more bullets impacted the wall next to Dameon and he backed up further into the department store.
The interior of the department store was eerie and groaning. Moldy clothes were draped over sagging, rusted clothing racks in a maze of old metal and broken mirrors. Daylight poured in from the front wall of the store, where the old windows had tumbled down into a sea of shattered glass. Bits of concrete and insulation rained down intermittently from the crumbling ceiling onto a semi circle of old jewelry display cases that Dameon had decided to use for cover. At the rear of the department store was a large v shaped staircase with marble banisters.
Dameon swung around wildly from his well covered position behind the jewelry cases next to an open cash register. He could hear the shouts of the knights outside as they traded fire with the Praetorians.
Dameon put his rifle down on the top of the empty display case and trained the scope outside, looking for any good shot. He could see veiled movement a bit above his line of sight so he stood up and tried to get a better vantage. As he did so, he heard footsteps behind him.
Dameon turned around; a Praetorian was walking down the stairs from the second level coming right at him at a slow pace. Dameon was about to raise his rifle and brace himself to be shot when something about the Praetorian's demeanor made him pause.
Although the Praetorian was staring at him intently with his soulless eyes, his posture wasn't threatening. His rifle was only half raised.
The Praetorian slowly walked forward towards Dameon, stepping off the last step of the staircase and doing a quick sweep of the interior of the store before continuing towards the gunfire crackling outside.
He walked up to within three feet of Dameon and paused.
Dameon cocked his head at the Praetorian and stood in silence. It scanned him with its dark doll eyes.
"Whoo-ooop," the Praetorian shot his head up for a second like he had hiccuped. His eyes locked on Dameon, as Dameon stood unnerved. The Praetorian then seemed to completely disregard him like he was a house plant as it stepped forward towards the entrance door.
While staring at the Praetorian, Dameon saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Keria was retreating into the entrance of the department store from the outside, to the right of him, directly where the Praetorian was advancing. She was covering her retreat with a volley from her pistol; her back to Dameon and the blue armored man.
The Praetorian instantly leveled his rifle at her and went to fire.
"Look out!" Dameon screamed. He began to raise his rifle at the Praetorian but had to fire from the hip.
The burst from Dameon's rifle struck the Praetorian in the back just as the man squeezed his trigger to take a shot at Keira. His shot went low and hit her just above the knee. She screamed out in pain and fell down , tumbling back outside and out of view. In a fluid motion the Praetorian swung back around to Dameon and fired a round straight into his neck.
The force of the round made Dameon fall to the ground behind the display cases. His hands shot around his neck. He felt warm blood stream out from his gaping wound.
The Praetorian went to run after Keira. As he got to the entrance door, Keira ripped an RPG off the back of a fallen knight and fired it over her shoulder at the wall next to the Praetorian.
From his spot on the floor, Dameon heard the rocket explode right next to the Praetorian and blow him to pieces that scattered around the room. At that moment, pain began to shoot throughout Dameon's system paralyzing him and drowning out his thoughts. Blood filled his lungs, and each breath was a struggle, like he was breathing through a straw. He tried to call out for help but he couldn't make any noise. He began to writhe on the dusty floor and kick his feet against the display case to try and get someone's attention. The pool of blood around him grew larger and larger.
As he stared at the unstable ceiling, the room began to spin.
As Dameon felt his body go numb, he saw Keria poke her head over the jewelry cases and glance down at him. In his death throws, he locked eyes with her; silently pleading for her to get someone to help him.
She looked at him pitilessly for a moment, still clutching the empty RPG tube while watching him bleed out. Her eyes turned to look outside.
Dameon tried to lift up his arm to show he was still alive but his strength failed him.
Keira brushed back her hair and dropped the empty tube. It clanked on the floor. She went to leave and then paused.
The gunfire outside began to die down as the Praetorians withdrew to the west.
"Fuck," Keira muttered to herself. She bit her lip and paused in thought before limping on her wounded leg back over to the front of the department store.
"We need the medic and some stimpaks in here, right now!"
Images swirled through Dameon's mind. He was a kid again, following in his father's footsteps up a switchback mountain trail, tracking the bloody footprints of a wounded Yao Gaui. He was teenager, fondling a sassy Pitt raider through her spiked armor while she ducked out of guard duty under Veteran's Bridge. He was broken, disfigured older man giving Chloe a twisted shoulder to cry on.
As he pictured her face he saw the medic peering down at him. He was a young man with blond hair. He disappeared from view as he dug around in a medical bag.
"That's it! Try and hold the wound closed," the medic's tone was frantic.
Dameon began to feel extremely cold. His whole body was numb. As the room began to go darker and darker he turned his head to the side. A large chunk of the dead Praetorian's arm was lying on the floor a few feet away from him. Several wires, transformers, and a smattering of electrical components jutted out from the severed limb. As the last few sparks of electricity crackled in the severed arm and hand, the fingers twitched like a dead insect.
The room went pitch black as Dameon lost consciousness.