Hello everyone, hope you are doing well.
Today, Damian will be facing something he thought was already behind him.
Please enjoy.
The rain fell heavily on the sheet metal of the huts and walls of Megaton. Stockholm, the sniper who stood guard at the entrance to Megaton, was always sitting on his little metal chair, his sniper rifle on his lap. He had set up a small umbrella over his head, hanging from a metal pole, and had cut out a beige tent canvas to use as a poncho and protection from the rain.
Damian took his eyes off the sniper, wondering if the man was really a human being and not a machine, and turned towards the crater. He had not been back since he had had to deal with the water supply problem and hoped he would not find an angry mob, attacking a Project Purity caravan.
The rain, which had been falling since Damian had left Arlington Library, had turned the crater into a giant slippery slope. Water was turning the land into mud, and small streams were running towards the Bomb.
The city was in turmoil. The inhabitants were busy digging new smaller holes to prevent the crater from being completely flooded and a few settlers were bringing buckets to help remove the water when the level was getting too high. The few visitors watched Cromwell, still wading in the radioactive water next to the Bomb, with a curious or amused eye. The Brass Lantern's outdoor counter was crowded, despite the abysmal weather. Jenny Stahl, the owner, had installed a large tarpaulin to protect her customers from the rain. As she took over the orders, she was looking nervously at the other residents, who were digging furrows and drainage holes for water. Damian noticed a new small billboard where he could read a message from Moira, asking for new "volunteers" for her experiments.
He sighed and walked to Moira's store. The weather had cooled considerably since his return from Pitt and he wanted to find some warmer clothes. The only problem was that Moira owned the only store in Megaton. None of the caravans that usually stopped were there today, and Damian did not feel like going all the way to Rivet City and back in this weather to deal with the unsympathetic clothing salesman on the ship.
Gathering all his courage and praying that Moira had not set a trap for him with a laser gun, he headed for the store, if only to get shelter from the heavy rain that was falling.
Damian entered the hut and wiped his wet face. Moira's store was deserted, except for the owner and the bodyguard who was standing guard. Moira vigorously swept the floor in the back of the room. Hearing the door open and close, she turned around and, seeing Damian, smiled broadly at him.
"My favorite assistant!" she cried.
Damian gave her a faint forced smile. Moira let go of her broom and stood in front of Damian.
"What's up? Did you come back with an injury? Enough to start the next chapter of my book?"
"I... I, uh..."
Moira looked Damian from head to toe.
"I was not injured recently. I did get shot at, two weeks ago, but I, personally did not perform the surgery."
He removed his camouflage poncho and armor chest piece and lifted his t-shirt to show Moira the scar left by Autumns bullet
"It's... Not exactly what I expected," Moira said with a small pout.
"Actually, I came here to do some shopping, but I might as well close this part of the book at the same time," Damian said.
Moira grabbed her notebook and a pen before turning to Damian.
"So, tell me, how does a gunshot wound feel?
"Bad" was the first word Damian wanted to say to her, but he was convinced that Moira would write down exactly what he was going to say. If the book came out, it could help a lot of people, as long as Damian gave the right information.
"It's a pretty... Indescribable pain. It feels like a burn or a tear. The adrenaline helps the pain get a little less intense, as does the fear of dying, I guess. You have to do everything you can to keep your cool and not panic. You have to focus on the essentials. Survival.
Damian was trying to explain as best he could what he had felt when he was injured. Luckily, he had not received any extremely serious injuries since his release from the Vault. He remembered, however, the probes the aliens had placed in his body during his captivity, the excruciating pain he had felt, and his visceral fear of death.
"Survival instinct often takes over," he said, recalling his first big shoot-out at the Super-Duper Mart.
He explained to Moira how to treat an injury with the means at hand, trying to remember all his father's advice on the subject.
Moira looked through her notes while Damian put his armor back. Satisfied, she put the notebook back down and reached into her pockets and pulled out a small bag of caps.
"I have one last question. How do you treat a broken limb?"
"Well... Immobilize the limb and..."
Damian was cut by the store door opening. Three men and a woman with an eyepatch over their right eye entered the store. Their faces and hair were dripping with water. They took a few moments to wipe their faces and removed the ponchos they were wearing.
Damian looked at them from head to toe. Automatic weapons, grey military clothing under black combat armor, an eagle's claw painted white on their chest.
The new arrivals noticed Damian's presence. When they saw him, they froze. Only the sound of rain drumming on the walls and roof of the store could be heard.
The mercenaries of the Talon Company slid their eyes from the Ranger symbol on Damian's armor to his Pip-Boy.
Moira's bodyguard watched the scene in amazement. He watched Damian and the mercenaries staring at each other in silent, motionless.
The woman let go of her poncho she was holding in her hands and grabbed the handle of her rifle. With the same gesture, Damian pushed Moira behind the counter and drew his pistol. He raised his gun and fired. The detonation shook the glassware in the store and resonated throughout the cabin. The bullet went down the woman's throat and she collapsed backwards in an unpleasant gurgling sound, a thick stream of blood gushing out of her throat and mouth.
Damian fired a second shot and hit one of the mercenaries in the chest. The bullet crashed into the armor. He fired again and this time he heard a yelp of pain.
One of the mercenaries turned his submachinegun towards Damian who dove behind the counter next to Moira. The shop-owner was covering her ears and closing her eyes as the 10mm burst swept across the store, wounding Moira's bodyguard who collapsed to the ground.
Damian fired blindly two successive shots, making the mercenary stop shooting and running for cover. Damian straightened up and fired again, hitting two more mercenaries. The last assailant stared at the bodies of his comrades. He fired again with his SMG, while insulting Damian, who flattened back under cover. He turned his head towards Moira who now protected her head with her arms. The objects on the shelves, broken by the storm of bullets.
The mercenary ran out of ammunition and stared at his gun, swearing. Damian took the opportunity to straighten up. He raised his gun. The mercenary threw his gun at Damian's face. Damian bent down to duck. When he got up, he saw the mercenary jump on him with a knife. He stepped over the counter and grabbed Damian by the neck and pushed him against the shelves while Moira crawled away.
Damian and the mercenary were rolling on the floor, trying to get the upper hand on. The man from Talon Company found himself on top of Damian. He raised his knife and stroke down. Damian grabbed the mercenary's wrist and pushed the blade back.
The mercenary had a grin on his face. He put his full weight on his arm. Damian could see the blade of the knife slowly approaching his throat.
The door opened on the fly and Damian heard Sheriff Simms' voice. Moira came up behind the mercenary and hit him on the head with her broom. The man straightened up, holding the back of his head. Damian kicked him away. He fell at Moira's feet and Moira jumped back to avoid him.
The mercenary got up. When he saw Simms, he raised his knife and threw it at him. Damian grabbed his assault rifle and pointed it at the mercenary. The roar of the rifle echoed throughout the hut. The man collapsed on himself in a groan.
"What the hell is happening in here?" Simms exclaimed.
He looked around, looking at the various corpses lying in large pools of blood. Damian took a deep breath and straightened up.
"Why is it that every time there's a mess in this town, you're never far away," Simms sighed, lifting the brim of his hat.
He looked at Damian in exasperation and turned to Moira.
"Are you all right Moira?"
"Uh... Yes... Yes... Yes... I think so..."
Simms leaned over one of the corpses and sighed again.
"Do you know who these people are?" asked the sheriff.
"Yes, mercenaries from Talon Company. This is the second time they've tried to kill me."
"Have you pissed anyone off lately?"
"I think these guys work for a guy named Tenpenny, but I don't know more," Damian said.
Simms got up. He looked over his shoulder. The townspeople were looking out the open door, tense and curious. Simms quickly dispersed them and closed the door.
The guard of Moira's store was dead. Simms approached Damian, leaning over one of the bodies. One of the mercenaries was still alive with a wound in his shoulder.
"Moira," Simms said. "Go get Church, please."
"Uh... Yeah... OK... Maybe I could help him treat this man and see if..."
"Moira," repeated the Sheriff.
She looked at the Sheriff who pointed to the door. She mumbled something in a low voice and left the store.
Damian tapped the mercenary's cheek to get his attention. The man slowly opened his eyes and grimaced. His hand was resting on his shoulder and pressing on the wound.
"I need a doctor," the mercenary moaned.
"First, you're going to tell me if it's really Tenpenny who employs you and why he wants me dead."
"I don't know. All we were told to do was find one of Reilly's guys with a Pip-Boy and kill him."
Damian lifted the mercenary's hand from his wound. He looked the mercenary in the eye and inserted his finger into the wound. The man opened his mouth to scream, but Damian put his hand over his mouth to prevent him from making a sound.
Simms pretended not to see anything. Damian pulled his finger out of the wound and took his saliva-covered hand out of the mercenary's mouth.
"I can go on like this for a long time," he said.
The mercenary shook his head. He swallowed his saliva and, began to speak.
"We got a contract from this guy, Tenpenny. He wanted you dead because you killed one of his associates."
"Who?" Damian asked.
"I don't know, some guy named Brook or Brock or something."
Damian looked up at Simms. The Sheriff gave him a slight nod.
"That wouldn't happen to be Burke, would it?" Simms asked.
"Sounds like it," replied the mercenary.
He looked up at Damian with worried eyes. Damian looked at him for a few seconds before he got up.
"What are you going to do with me?" asked the mercenary.
"I don't know, yet," Simms answered.
The door of the store opened again, and Moira entered, followed by Doc Church. Seeing the many dead bodies in the store, he sighed. The doctor grabbed his satchel and approached the wounded mercenary.
Just before he was taken to Church's clinic, the mercenary was handcuffed and escorted by Simms.
"Don't do anything stupid, kid," he said before leaving the store.
"I'm going to help you clean this up," Damian said.
"Oh no," Moira cut him off. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it myself."
She smiled broadly at Damian and grabbed her broom off the floor and began to gather the broken items and shell casings into a small pile, while a few settlers entered the shop and started to transport the bodies outside.
Damian left the store. Everything had returned to normal, as if nothing had happened.
Damian doubted that the Talon Company would leave him alone until they succeeded in their task. He remembered walking by and old military facility on his way to Vault 87, used by the mercenary group.
Damian headed to the clinic. He found Simms inside, overseeing, Church and the mercenary.
"What do you know about this Tenpenny?" Damian asked the Sheriff.
"Nothing more than everyone here, I'm afraid," Simms answered crossing his arms. "He lives with a few wealthy people in an old high-rise apartment building, Southwest of here, protected by a small army of trigger happy merc and renamed the place 'Tenpenny Tower'. No one goes in there unless their pockets are filled with caps."
"Burke wanted to blow up Megaton with the Bomb. If he ever worked for Tenpenny, he'd probably want to do it again."
"The Bomb's deactivated by you, right?" Simms said. "And if that old rich guy wants to blow up Megaton, we'll know how to get it."
Simms pointed to his trusty old Chinese assault rifle. Damian stared at the blank. He started combing his little beard with his fingers and thinking of a way out of this situation.
"This tower, how far is it from Megaton?"
"I'd say, about one or two hours walk," Simms said after a brief reflection. "What part of 'Nobody goes in unless they have pockets full of capsules' and 'Don't do anything stupid' didn't you understand?" Simms asked.
"I'll find a way," Damian answered. "It's always going to be more achievable than attacking Talon Company on my own."
Simms sighed. He looked at Damian and shook his head.
"You're really crazy," he said.
The sky was still black, but the rain had stopped, leaving behind a soggy, muddy ground and a strong impression of damp air.
Damian had left Megaton about ten minutes ago. Before leaving, he had returned to Moira's house. The young woman had finished collecting the items broken or damaged in the shooting in a large pile and had taken over the inventory of her store, disregarding the smell of gunpowder and blood floating in the air. Damian had then bought her a thick military sweater and some ammo.
Damian climbed up a small rocky hill. Behind him, the town of Megaton, hidden by a hill and the remains of a collapsed highway. At his feet, a small asphalt road cracked and strewn with puddles, bordered by a rusty guardrail. In front of him, a forest of burnt trees, and in the distance, the remains of a highway, behind which, Damian could see a large white tower with a brown roof. He was probably an hour's walk away, maybe less, if he decided to cut through the forest.
This forest, or rather this pile of dead trees, did not inspire him with confidence. He didn't know why, but as he looked at the grove, he had an unpleasant impression. Damian decided to go around the trees.
He walked a dozen meters away from the edge of the forest, always keeping an eye inward, watching for any movement of a wild animal or enemy. Moving across the fields was dangerous, especially when crossing great distances without shelter. The only advantage was that you could see wild animals approaching.
With the grove behind him, Damian continued to walk until he came across a road at the bottom of a hill. A little further on, the remains of wooden houses, blown up during the Great War. Several small tin shacks had been built nearby. The huts were destroyed, and it was impossible to tell whether it was the work of the Bombs, the weather, or a group of looters or Super Mutants. The road, gradually eaten away by sand and earth, was lined with telephone poles, the cables of which swayed slowly in the wind.
Damian heard an increasingly loud roar. Two black dots broke away from the clouds. Two Enclave Vertibird were approaching his position at full speed. Damian looked around him. He ran to the wreckage of a car, slightly raised against the guardrail and slid underneath. He heard the Vertibird approaching. Both devices slowed down. They circled slowly around the ruins, like two hawks looking for prey. After a few seconds, which seemed interminable, the two Vertibird turned and disappeared behind the hills.
Damian crawled out of his shelter. He climbed up and down several hills until he reached the ruins of a collapsed highway. He climbed up or under the collapsed concrete. As he crossed the remains of the highway, he observed the thick reinforced concrete pillars that were still standing. Damian had been impressed to see that most of the buildings were still standing, even after the terrible bombings of the Great War. If the Bombs had, as he thought, exploded just above the cities or strategic military points, then the blast effect would have been tenfold and Washington D.C. would look more like a huge flat piece of land dotted with concrete blocks and car bodies, not this ocean of ruins and torn down buildings. The network of highways that once ran through the area was a collection of small, damaged or collapsed structures, some of which were the only traces of the Old World for miles around.
The Tenpenny Tower did not seem to have suffered much from the Great War. Damian was only a few minutes' walk from his destination. A grove, located between the tower and the destroyed highway, stood in front of him. On the edge of the trees, Damian could see what was left of a small power station. The large steel pylons that carried the cables to the various pre-war cities were still standing and Damian could hear the metal twisting and creaking in the wind.
He moved away from the highway and went down to the power station. Traces of fresh blood lay on the muddy ground. Damian prepared his rifle and listened. There were no bodies, but judging from the heavy bloodstains, several people or creatures had fought here and died.
Right next to the power station was the wreckage of a truck and its trailer. Damian approached cautiously. A strong smell emanated from the trailer whose doors were open. Damian looked inside. The bodies of several men and women, mutilated and partially devoured, were in the trailer. Damian grimaced and stepped back. He heard a twig crack behind him, followed by a growl.
Damian turned his head. Between the trees, a black, slightly hairy mass was staring at him. The creature looked vaguely like a bear. Four large muscular legs, ending in long black claws, a stocky dark body with small tufts of black hair, an elongated snout, small rounded ears and shiny eyes. The animal had numerous scars on its nose and the rest of its body. It opened his mouth, revealing a row of yellow fangs stained with blood, and breathed heavily.
The animal stared at Damian, silently. Only its heavy breathing could be heard. Damian stepped aside. The creature stood on its hind legs and bellowed. The animal was about two meters high. Damian thought of the mutilation marks on the dead bodies in the trailer and glanced at the creature's jaws and claws. Damian stepped back. He was now on the ramp to the trailer.
The animal took a few steps forward, still on its hind legs, and roared again. Damian raised his rifle, but in a split second, the beast fell back on its front legs and ran at him.
Damian dove to the side and narrowly avoided a kick that would have torn him in two. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the creature had just entered the trailer. He rushed to the rail-door and pulled it shut. Just before he closed them and engaged the lock, he could see, among the dead bodies and behind the giant bear, two more of these creatures, much smaller. The bear charged. Damian locked the door and jumped back, just as the creature hit the door. The trailer shook and the animal roared with anger. He hit and scratched the door several times and then growled before silence fell again.
Damian looked around, checking that there were no other such creatures around and leaned forward and put his hands on his thighs. He took a deep breath and sighed and straightened up in a nervous laugh.
He had just met his first Yao Guai. He had already seen specimens of these mutant bears in the cryogenic lab at Raven Rock, but those were much smaller than this one.
The Yao Guai threw itself against the door again, startling Damian. The young man decided to move away quickly before the angry bear smashed the door open.
Damian arrived on a plain, dotted with small shrubs and rocks. On the left, a large parking lot at the foot of a factory building. Sheltered behind a rock, Damian observed the building. The car park was deserted, except for a few cars, eaten away by rust. On one of the facades, several posters, stuck before the Great War, were still visible. The building itself seemed to have suffered more from the effects of time than the bombs. On the roof, several large pumps, or tanks from which large pipes came out and which disappeared inside the building. On the façade, above the entrance, Damian could read the letters "bCO". He looked in his memory to see where he had seen these letters before, and remembered that these were the last three letters of the name RobCO, the pre-war company that had made his Pip-Boy, the Protectrons and almost all the computers in pre-apocalypse America.
It was probably one of the company's factories, and if it was, then the place had probably been looted countless times by scavengers looking for spare parts for their robots.
Damian looked over his shoulder. Tenpenny's tower stood in the middle of the plain, surrounded by a few trees. The building was much more impressive when seen up close. About twenty stories high, the building had seen its base and part of its back façade reinforced by thick steel plates. Most of the windows were barricaded, and only a handful of them projected a weak light, attenuated by dirty curtains. A balcony ran around the center of the middle floor building and Damian noticed what looked like a terrace at the top of the building.
Around the tower, a barricade of reinforced concrete slabs, three or four meters high, had been erected and barbed wire completed this protective wall, both to prevent undesirables from entering, or the inhabitants from fleeing.
Damian walked around the building, keeping his distance and arrived in front of a marble porch lined with columns and a large metal gate. Damian could hear voices on the other side of the wall. He noticed an intercom on the wall near the door.
"Hello?" Damian said, pressing the button and bringing his head closer to the microphone.
He heard someone grumbling through the intercom and the disgruntled voice of a man answered.
"'This is private property here. Get out of the way.'"
"Do you treat all visitors this way?" Damian asked.
"'No, I don't. Just the ones that give me a headache, like you. Now get your ass out of Mr. Tenpenny's house!'"
"I just came to see Tenpenny."
Damian heard the man laughing on the other side of the wall.
"'And what would Mr. Tenpenny, a very busy man, have to do with a sewer rat like you?'"
"I know he's looking for someone and I'm able to provide him with information about that person."
"'Oh, yeah? Who's that?'"
"The Lone Wanderer."
The man on the other side of the wall remained silent. After a few seconds, Damian heard the metal door unlock.
Damian walked through the door. A large inactive fountain of stone and marble stood in front of him. Two rows of columns formed an alley from the gate to the entrance of the tower.
Several men armed with assault rifles and dressed in khaki battle armor stood behind the fountain or on either side of the gate.
"Welcome to Tenpenny Tower. Don't do anything foolish and everything will be all right."
Damian turned his head. A Hispanic man in his forties with short brown hair looked at him, sitting in a chair facing a small radio. He recognized the voice of his interlocutor on the intercom.
"Okay, we're going to start by taking out this nice poncho and handing me all the weapons."
Damian slowly lifted his poncho. Seeing the Pip-Boy on his arm, the guards exchanged stunned glances. The man with whom Damian had spoken drew a gun and pointed it at Damian, quickly imitated by all his men.
"Holy shit," the man smiled.
He approached Damian and raised his poncho completely, revealing the breastplate of his Ranger armor.
"Either you're dumb or you're crazy. I'm leaning towards the first option."
The man took a few steps back. He waved to one of his men who approached Damian and disarmed him.
"Close the door," the man said to his subordinates. "You three, with me. We're going to see Mr Tenpenny. I'm sure he'll be delighted to see you, Lone Wanderer."
Damian just entered the renoun Tenpenny Tower.
How will he deal with the man who wants him dead? Will it be friendly chit-chat, or shotgun-diplomacy?
Until next time.
