Chapter 30: Collapsed in Sunbeams
This hulking mass of metal and pumps only laughed at me. It was a deep, hearty, and threatening boom within his respiratory mask. Lowering his hands upon his waist, he only stared me down, those glowing eyes judging my very existence. "You really have no idea who I am, do you? Has it been that long?"
I only growled at him, "Unfortunately, for you, no. Frank Horrigan? Doesn't ring the slightest bell. You're supposed to be some Wasteland badass, or something?"
He did even reply, charging forward he shook the entire ground with those fruitful stomps. I met his charge, scooping up one of the many landmines that littered this place. I ducked under his massive, swinging form and pressed the landmine right at his chest, holding it there, and stretched my arms out. I held the mine there, in between us both.
Now that I was right upon him, it made me realize how massive and bulky this Frank Horrigan is. He went to grab at me but hesitated. The landmine was pressed right against his chest. His attire was a mixture of Power Armor and Super Mutant. It was a hulking, heavy mass of protection, tubes, and robotic-looking extensions. He scoffed at me, "Do you really think that will work? I can be rebuilt, you cannot. Are you that desperate?"
I only press the mine harder against him, keeping the activation primed. If I release it from his chest it will blow us both, completely. Being a Plasma Mine the lingering effect will destroy us both, or severely damage us together. "Seeing as I lack the opportunity to talk to you, being all ready to murder me, and all. If I die I will take you with me. However, since we are both still alive. How about telling me what you are doing here, why outside the Flea Garage?"
His voice only boomed in his helmet. "Pure coincidence! I heard a pesky rumor that the Enclave had fallen in the Capital Wasteland," he paused, glared at me through the glowing eyehole of his helmet. "Again! While I was getting myself put back together, the Enclave was destroyed. The pathetic branch of government that couldn't accomplish anything, twice!" he paused and leaned down at me, reaching my face. "A pesky Deathclaw was behind that, joining the Brotherhood of Steel. You caused me a lot of trouble, you caused the Enclave a lot of trouble. Before I was "killed" by The Chosen One; I killed your entire species off." He stomped the ground, the entire world shook beneath us. "How are you here!?"
I stepped closer. Meeting his rage-filled glare with my own. "My history doesn't matter, at all. There aren't any of me left. In the end, you fulfilled your goal. I am the last you will ever see!"
He grabbed at my neck in such a quick action I couldn't even react. He could grasp my entire neck in a single hand. "It would be such a shame if I pushed you away, wouldn't it? You didn't think about that fact, did you?"
I could barely manage to speak through his iron grasp. "Yo-you'll be in the radius too. Otherwise, you would have just done it already," I called his bluff.
He only grumbled under that protective helmet, towering above me and keeping his grasp upon my neck a consistent tightness of hatred. If one were capable of projecting their feelings through such an action, his grasp would scream "hate!"
"It appears we are at an impasse…" He admitted with a very begrudgingly filled tone. "Very clever of you. Trapping me and yourself between a landmine."
Keeping an unrelenting grip on the mine itself I used my other arm to loosen the grip he had upon my throat, pushing that arm away. "I don't foresee either of us getting out of this unscathed. Since we are both stuck and essentially screwed. How about you tell me, why?"
Frank only kept his arm up, ready to strike. "Why what? I have nothing to answer for you, or this pitiful Wasteland!"
"That's exactly what I mean though. What are your plans, why are you back? Why such a hate for my species? You surely don't share an intention with the Enclave back in the Capital Wasteland. Wh-"
He wasn't having any of my questions. "It's a return to form! Eradication of everything that wasn't in existence before The Great War. The Enclave is a remnant of the old world! I'm a remnant of the old world. If I let mutation and radiation run rampant, the nation will never return to what it once was!"
"The old world is dead, Frank! That hope of returning to form will never come to be. The issue of radiation and mutations is more widespread than you, or I can comprehend. You're talking about total global change. The nation as you want it to be will never be back to what it once was. Murdering everything that doesn't fit your view will get you nowhere!" I snarled at him, he only grasped at my throat more. My feeble attempts to shake him off were in vain.
"Unnatural creations like yourself are part of the issue." He boomed, looking away from me and checking his surroundings, "You are a product of science unchecked. The same kind of a scientist who made the bombs that completely annihilated the world. You don't understand what you represent. The Deathclaw was made to replace foot soldiers, during the war. You were never meant to gain sentience, free will. You are just wrong!"
"Last I heard the Enclave gave us sentience. Through experiments, with F.E.V." He was silent, almost like he was thinking. "What's wrong Frankie? Trying to clean up loose ends, postmortem?"
Frank only tightened his grip, pulling me closer. "The Enclave no longer matter. They can't accomplish anything! I will have to cleanse this Wasteland myself!"
With a swift curving of my spine, I bent myself in an incredibly unnatural way to release his grip. He un-handed me the moment I twisted his massive form with myself. This whole ordeal caused me to lose the pressure on the Plasma Mine and it fell to the ground.
He just stood there, stared at it, and then at me. I tried to make as much distance as possible. He didn't realize it was disarmed the entire time, until now. He roared out and a blood-curdling screech of rage! He stomped the ground, shaking the entire world beneath us both. This absolute lunatic lunged at me before I could even turn around. He covered such a distance that any sort of spacing I made was completely void.
He grabbed me by the tip of my tail and pulled me in, in a single firm tug. Tightening his grasp he swung me around, lifting me completely off the ground, and slammed me with all the might he could muster into the soil.
The impact landed me on my side and instantly knocked the wind out of me. This hulking behemoth of a mutant only leisurely strolled up to me, placed a foot on my chest, and pressed down.
I dry heaved a bit of air but couldn't get any more. The pressure on my chest only prevented me even further from oxygen.
Frank only moved his foot over, up my chest. Holding that dirt, crusty, metal foot upon my face, rubbing up and down my snout. "Makes you wonder why you all died out. You aren't fit for this world."
Why do they always do this? I swear it's a power trip. I, despite heaving absolutely nothing. Dug my entire clawed grip into his ankle and pulled forward. He fell down in front of me with a thud so loud and earth-quaking it made me stumble when I tried to get up. This brought me just enough time to retrieve the things that got scattered when he brought me to the ground.
Gasping for air, I doubled down on this current vulnerability he had. It seems that he would have to roll over, and then get up. Too many tubes and pipes lined his back, they got stuck on the ground.
He quickly turned himself around and began to stand up! Quickly rushed over to his position, still scrambling for my bags. I began to furiously slash at his backside, cutting multiple tubes and pipes. I don't even know what kind of fluids burst out of these extensions. Probably some kind of life support, saline, or…worse.
With my hands splattered and Frank irritated as all hell. Now would be a good time to bail. There is no way in any sort of reasonable Hell that I would be able to take this fucker down alone. Keeping myself moving, nearly tripping over the body of Styx, goddamn I hadn't even registered that he was killed yet.
I saw it happen, shot right between the eyes. He deserved better. I assume Adam fell into the river, as well as Myles. I can only hope they will meet up, or aren't completely dead.
I'll come back for you, Styx. I won't leave you to rot for the mongrels.
Horrigan charged at me like a Super Mutant on Jet, and with nothing to lose. With a swinging fist, I managed to duck under. Barely avoiding a quick uppercut in succession. Cutting the tubes on his back did absolutely nothing, noted.
When he drew closer I took note of all the bullet markings that Myles put into him. Frank Horrigan was a literal walking tank.
This man, mutant, thing! Was unrelenting. He wasn't tiring one bit and here I was gasping for air still, standing on this plateau like a dumbass. I needed to check my two bags, and make sure I wasn't missing anything. I also concluded that my Bumper Sword would be of little use, if my claws did basically nothing in comparison.
"I am Frank Horrigan, you are a mistake of science. The Secret Service would never allow the likes of you to exist in my world. You are not welcome in my world!" He leaned back, stomping the ground once more. Making me lose whatever balance I had.
Backing myself up to the same edge I pushed Myles down, I didn't even look back and took a full sprint and a leap of faith into the running rapids below.
I didn't hear what Frank had yelled out. I hit the water much faster than I anticipated. The water wasn't strong enough to make me lose control of what I was doing. The splash and chilling cold were refreshing. I took the time to consider that Myles and Adam must have flown downstream. I didn't see a body from either of them. Or the Enclave soldier that Adam fell off with.
Continuing with the flow of water I managed to finally catch my breath and steadied myself. I'll continue down the rapid until I see Myles, Adam, or the Enclave soldier. I think I am safe enough to keep myself relaxed for the moment. It's not every day you see a Deathclaw, swimming in a river.
This stretch of the river seemed to split at this point of elevation. Left and right seemed to stretch equally as far. I took the moment of indecisiveness to rest myself upon a fallen log that was submerged in the dirt of the river. It must have been here for a hundred years or so, just stuck.
Nothing happened while I was resting against this log. I was more than far away enough from Horrigan. I eventually decided that I was sick of being soaked and hoisted myself up onto the edge of the river, split, and stood up.
I'll follow one of the paths from here. I was leaning to the right, that sounds good. Worst comes to worst. I can just trudge the other direction!
I stood myself up on the riverbank and shook myself off. It's almost unreal how much water ended up dripping off me. I was practically soaked to the bone. I made sure to check my surroundings, everything seemed clear as could be. Not a sign of life in sight. The river itself seemed overall, secluded. I couldn't see any sort of settlement or road on the horizon. How far did this go?
Once I was adequately dried enough I decided to check my things, wring out my two bags, and began walking my way up the edge of the riverbed. It was kind of a miracle I got out of that relatively unscathed. My chest hurt from Frank and his excessive pressure but other than that, I feel fine.
Here I thought I was done with the Enclave until I reached the Nevada border. I need to find Myles and Adam first. I can only hope they ended up together.
I wrung out my last satchel and took out one of our Aqua Pura drinks. The purest water in the region, or so they say. I always thought it could never beat the rivers of Nevada, especially not by the Hoover Dam.
Checking everything to be accounted for I took the entire bottle down in a single gulp. It made me realize that I did, in fact, taste this before. On the Prydwen.
Pure water beats irradiated. Even if it wouldn't affect me severely.
The river leads into a large open field. Both sides flowed right into a massive lake, overlooking another valley. That saves me time on checking both ways, at least. This place looked like some kind of park or attraction back in the day. It had a spiral walkway of weathered bricks and broken benches that are hardly recognizable. No road, which is still odd. I could see some kind of building on the complete other ends of the lake.
The roof partially collapsed in on itself. I could use the semblance of shelter to get myself together and figure out my next course of action. The entire area was suspiciously quiet. Usually, this area would have some Ghouls, Bloodbugs, or even a Deathclaw! A place so close to easy water, makes for good living for a wild creature.
I kept myself out of the large opening area and kept along the dead treeline. Granted, I don't blend in with anything but I imagine most wouldn't just pick a fight with a wandering Deathclaw.
I crept my way up to the collapsed building, I was a ways away but was drawing in. It seemed empty. I didn't sense anything, or anyone.
I gave a wide approach. Rather than straight on, I came from the side. The sounds of water and the elevation of the hill would be enough cover to reach the building itself. Plenty of thoughts crossed my mind. What could possibly be in here, raiders, settlers, empty? Why am I even doing this? Myles and Adam could be here too but I highly doubt it. No tracks were found to lead to that, at least not that I saw.
I reached the backside of the building and peered into it. The place looked like a gift shop. I can see some faded-away signs that still stand to this day. The shelves were barren, minus some leaves and dust, rubble. The place is in a bad state of affairs. I did however notice a rather suspicious hatch.
I picked up a long stick from the edge of the building and used it to hoist the hatch open. The handle was rusty as all hell but it was still functional. I would need to finesse myself to be able to fit but I could get the angle.
I didn't even get the entire hatch open before I heard the shot of a gun and a bullet whiz by me from below. It made me literally jump back, nearly tripping on my own tail in the process.
"Goddamn it, Adam! Don't be so fucking trigger-happy!" I heard Myles, scolding Adam, they were safe! "John, is that you? I'm assuming you didn't get hit by mister shoot anything that moves?"
I leaned forward, and pushed the stick into the cracked hatch just to test the waters some more. "You are lucky your shot missed me, Adam. I would have been very unhappy to have come all the way down the river just to be shot like that." I pulled the stick back, tossing it behind me, "Make room, I'm coming down."
I opened the hatch and was met with a rather large-looking bunker. It was all I could describe as spacious. It even had a back-looking room that I could see.
Adam lowered his gun and took a seat in the most durable-looking chair in the room. "I thought I was crazy when I heard you talk, back at the Enclave standoff. It makes so much more sense now, everything. Myles was trying to explain everything to me and said that you would find us, so we stayed put."
"Yeah, we even have an uninvited guest in the back room. We thought you might enjoy taking a look at him."
Interesting, interesting. I got down on all fours and crouched down as low as possible. Much to my own surprise, I can indeed fit! The steps leading down were much longer than I originally anticipated. The spacious room would explain a large amount of echo from the shot that Adam took.
I awkwardly reached the bottom of the steps and stood back up. "Glad you two made it out of that clusterfuck," I turned to face Adam, looking around the room as I moved deeper into this concrete sanctuary, "Adam, I am sorry about Styx. I…don't want you to think we are going to let his sacrifice be in vain."
He took a deep breath and only stared at the wall. "It was no one's fault. He knew what he was getting himself into, we knew the risks. I just don't know what I'm going to tell his daughter now."
"Daughter?" Myles asked, while loading one of the assault rifle mags he found on one of the many shelves.
Adam only sighed. "Yes, Mackerel is the girl we were searching for. That's his daughter. Intel suggests that she was taken as a slave, by The Rose Bloods. Nothing confirmed. That is why we were here in the first place. We are traders, yes. But we are also spies. For who? I won't tell you but just know that we are not an enemy of yours." He paused and turned around to face me, then Myles, "Especially not a Brotherhood of Steel Paladin and a talking Deathclaw."
I gave him a nod and didn't press on the matter. "I understand. You did help us get into the Flea Garage so I have no reason to not trust you specifically," I leaned closer, turned around, and met him eye to eye. "Tell me this. The group that you spy for. Will it make me want to kill you upon figuring it out? I suggest that you tell me now. Because if I find out, on my own and I am not happy with the outcome. I will kill you." I sharpened my claws together just inches away from him, for emphasis.
He pondered for a second and looked at Myles, who I would assume knew as much as me. "I don't think it would make you want to kill me. As far as I'm aware you have had no interaction with us. We aren't widespread or even known on a grand scale. We gather intel and give it to other factions and groups that could use it we-"
"What is your group's name?" I asked him firmly.
Myles butted in, tapping me on the shoulder, and directed me to the doorway. "John, we have bigger issues. The Enclave soldier that Adam fell with. We captured and subdued her. You know, for answers. Figured you would want to get some out of her."
I growled at them both. "Very well, Adam, Myles. I'll go and see if they will answer me. If not, they die. No. Objections."
I gave neither of them time to argue, making my way through to the next room. It was significantly smaller, less lit. It did however have a chair with a pretty bloody-looking person. This lady is in dark fatigues and breathing heavily. Her leg looked broken. Her breaths are unsteady. She was tied very heavily.
"Well you look like shit," I commented.
She slowly looked up at me, a purple eye and coughing blood. "I thought they were blowing out their ass, when they said you would be coming. I already heard you talk, no point in not believing that." She spurt out another clump of blood and yelled. "I ain't talking! You'll never get a peep out of me!"
I simply circled around the room, using the patches of darkness for intimidation. "I dunno, you already spoke. Awfully redundant to not keep going. So, I'm going to give you a single choice, here and now," I ran my index claw along her cheek, not drawing blood but just so she can feel it. "I offer you a chance. Rather than continue to torture you, I will patch you up. Relieve your pain and fix you as well as I can. As long as you tell me what I want. Hell, I'll even let you walk with your life."
She tried to pull away and was way, way too immobilized to do so. "And, if I don't?"
I only snickered at her. "You tell me. I don't need to tell you what unspeakable things will happen to you. As far as I see it. I am giving you an easy out, both ways technically work, yes. I want information, you want your life."
She wheezed and grunted in pain. "You won't do anything worse than Frank Horrigan will do to me! I'll be turned into a mutant or used to fuel his very life!"
I stopped her. "Wait, wait. I know nothing about Frank Horrigan. Tell me everything, I'll even help you with that broken leg and stop the bleeding, as you tell me. How about that?"
"I could just lie to you, you know?"
"Yeah, I could just kill you, you know?" I snapped right back. "Now, fucking talk! I grow tired of wasting time."
"God-Fucking-Damnit, fine! The Frank Horrigan that you met is just an impersonation, not actually the real Frank Horrigan. Yes, he's based on and uses the DNA of the real one from ages ago. He was made in a lab, made to believe he's the real thing. Don't you see? They are testing. Once they iron everything out, they will mass produce him. The Wasteland will royally fucked!"
I begrudgingly pulled out a sewing kit from my satchel and began to examine her leg, gently. "You're telling me that he was once real, isn't now, and is just an imitation of himself but doesn't know it?"
She winced as I began to sew her leg wound back together. "Ahh, yes, yes. He doesn't know that he isn't the real deal. Simply just a test. He was made in a lab to cleanse the Wasteland. Mainly of the Brotherhood of Steel, any creature, and anything that wasn't part of the Pre-War agenda. The thing is, his body deteriorates at such a rapid pace, that he needs others to keep it sustained. Basically, through countless experiments. They found a way to convert people into a sort of 'fuel' for Frank to function on."
I stopped what I was doing. "You don't mean to tell me that…the tube I cut was…people? It splashed all over me!"
Oh my goodness, that's absolutely disgusting!
"I'm afraid so. The tubes are what keep him afloat. If he doesn't have a fuel system he can't function. Mind you, he isn't a robot or a machine. He's as organic as you and me. The problem is, in order to keep him as powerful and as strong as he is, he needs a literal life support. Without a constant supply of organic energy, he will cease to operate, just like a machine without fuel."
That explains the missing people at the Flea Garage. It's not raiders or slavers, it was Enclave! I should have fucking known!
Ignoring my thoughts of wild speculation, there will be plenty of time for that later on. I did however wonder what Myles and Adam were doing. Probably discussing what the plan is or just let me deal with this lady on my own.
I didn't take a moment to take a look at her actual features yet. She had red hair and kept it in a bun, on the back of her head. It looks like it was all tied together intentionally. Her skin was a bit darker, like a tan, and other than that she didn't hold any sort of modifications or piercings. "So, what is your name? How did you get involved with the Enclave? It doesn't seem like it would be a choice of yours, if you could have prevented it," I asked her, finishing up the sewing of her leg wound.
For once she didn't try to squirm, just let it happen. "My name is Shar, like Sharleen. You are right. When they are picking people to be turned into fuel for Frank, they have us all fight it out. Survivors are given a choice and it's join or die. To be converted into his tubes it doesn't matter if you are dead or alive. The higher-ups and superiors watch you suffer and then make you suffer some more. I didn't want to be made a fucking fuel for a walking monster, so I joined. Bought me time until I could do something to either escape or make a move and get myself killed anyway. I remember being captured by some kind of slaver. It was a large camp, somewhere. They moved us all so many times. Back and forth. Like we were a possession. I was sold for 50 caps, 50! That's all I was worth. I could goddamn scavenge more than that in a day." She stopped and spat another batch of blood, "What a fucking joke."
I noticed that her black jumpsuit ended up more red than black at the rate she was spitting. "It appears you are dying. Did Myles or Adam best you up or was it that fall that made you so hurt? Your leg leads me to believe it was the fall."
I crouched down and offered her a towel to help wipe some of the blood. She didn't even acknowledge my previous question. "Why are you helping me anyways? Show me such kindness and patch me up just to kill me anyway," She glared at me. "You won't let me walk out of here with my life."
"From where I'm standing you have already told me quite a bit. If I were going to kill you I would have already. As far as I'm concerned, you are already dead to me, understand? You should forget this Enclave or whatever they want to call themselves now. Move on, away from here."
I swiped at her bindings and got them all in a single swoop. "You are free to rest up, and gather a few supplies in here that will help you survive out there." I grabbed a Stimpack out of my satchel quickly and jammed it into her injured leg before she stood up, she yelped in pain from the impact, "But be aware. Once you leave we will not be here, you will not find us. Don't even try to go back to Frank and tell him where we were. You have a chance to be free. I suggest you take it." Removing the stimpack and tossing it aside I gave a long, audible sniff of her. "And remember, I have your scent. You betray us or do anything stupid. I. Will. Hunt. You. Down."
She leaned back into the seat and rubbed her leg, slowly. "I-I understand you won't see me ever again once I go. Can I roam freely or will you be supervising me?"
I stood myself up and turned around to leave the room. "You are free to look around. I need to take stock of our rations and supplies. I recommend you don't go straight for a gun. We will give you everything you need to get out of here. Come to the entrance when you are well enough."
I left her alone. Fortunately, that room she was in was a dead end; the only other option was back to the entrance where Myles and Adam were. If she wanted to try anything at all she would need to go through where we would be.
I crept around these concrete corners. This place reminded me of a very, very small Vault. Makes me wonder if the hatch itself was uprooted and was meant to not be visible the day the bombs fell. No one made it in, from what I can see. That or whoever did take shelter here moved on.
"What do you think he's doing? This is taking longer than I thought." I heard what I think was Adam speaking.
"Don't worry, my friend. If there is something you need to learn about John is that he's going to find a way to get the information without much hassle. Given how there hasn't been any yelling or sounds of murder. I wouldn't worry."
Peeking the corner I saw them both sitting at a table and drinking beers, of course. "You are correct to not worry." I said, making myself visible, "I will tell you everything once she leaves."
"Once she leaves?!" They both blurted out.
I only gave them a nod, joining them at the table, and taking a seat on the floor. "That's correct. To make a deal for the information, I patched her up and came to the decision that I would let her walk. We are going to uphold that and let her go."
Adam slammed his beer down and it made Myles jump, the look he gave him was kinda scary for that. "How can you be so sure she won't go crawling right back to Frank Horrigan? What if she does? Our chance to kill her here and now, you're letting that slip by us?" Adam said, practically yelling at me.
"I understand your grief, Adam. I understand the risk this is taking. We aren't monsters here. We can be calm, and reasonable. I have her scent. I can track her down if she does anything, at all. I got everything I needed out of her. We, as in the three of us, are letting her walk freely."
"I'm not just going to let her go after being involved in Styx's death!"
I growled at Adam, slamming on the table to stand myself, nearly breaking it. "I wasn't asking for permission! I told her that she was allowed to leave, and she is going to leave. I'm not arguing this anymore. I won't let you hurt her. So get over yourself. We will have plenty of time to avenge Styx."
Myles continued to swig his beer and Adam just leaned back in his chair, avoiding eye contact with us both.
Myles asked. "So, let's take a count of our stocks? I haven't taken a look at all these shelves yet. We can probably also hunker down here for the night."
Adam, seemingly begrudgingly stood himself up, strapping his rifle to his back. He made it very apparent to not make any sort of visual contact with us. Made it across the room to one of the many lines of shelves. Boxes and many containers. I could see cans of food and bottles that were way too old to safely drink water.
Myles only shrugged and went to the line of shelves on the opposite end of Adam. I'm sure that I didn't need to tell them both what to look for. "If either of you finds anything particularly amazing, let me know."
"Sure thing, John. Maybe you should go and check our prisoner? The sooner she leaves us the better."
I couldn't agree more. "You're right. I'm going to give her some basic supplies and send her on her way."
I made sure to close the door behind me and leave Myles and Adam to look through the shelves. I rather not get Adam all worked up. He probably has a lot going through his head. It made me consider what I would do, in his position. Had Frank killed Myles instead, I would kill this woman without a second thought. Then I would hunt down Frank Horrigan.
"Shar? You haven't passed out on me, have you? It's been quite a bit of time, have you gathered yourself enough to leave?" I called down the hallway. I didn't want to sound concerned or anything. To be truthful, I just want her gone so I can sleep.
Silence. Not a sound or a peep. No movement either. Suspicion grew and silence is not a good sign. She's plotting or unconscious, or dead. Whatever happened. I think it's time she leaves.
Quickly reaching the end of the hallway I knocked on the door with my index claw. "Shar? I think it is time you leave. I've given you more than enough time to get your shit together."
I gave a few moments before I barged the door open. I found her, flopped onto the ground. I could tell she was still breathing from here. Must have passed out from blood loss. With a sigh, I picked her up and carried her out of the room. She didn't seem to be bleeding anymore. I did take the chance to squeeze her, make sure she wasn't faking it. Still completely out, didn't even react.
It was kind of eerie how quiet these tunnels were. Not even the Vault was as silent as this. Consistent shifting of metal and leaking pipes were the sounds of the Vault. Concrete may even last longer. Not sure it stops outside radiation though.
Upon reaching the door I leaned back on one of my legs and opened the door with the other, using the largest claw on my foot to grip the handle. "Alright, you two. It seems our patron has passed out from blood loss. This will be the perfect opportunity to give her some things and send her on her way. As in, a gun, some food, water, Radaway. You know, essentials."
Adam just continued to go through the many worn boxes on his shelf. Myles, however, gestured back to a pack on the table. "Seeing as you went back for her. I prepared a bag already. Should be enough to send her on her way. If you want to carry her a good distance away, we can hold the bunker."
I lifted my arm and had Myles strap the bag to my shoulder. "Okay, I'll carry her far away enough where she won't be able to find us easily. I'll make sure to put her up on something so no wandering creature gets her. When she awakes, she will hopefully just leave. If we see her again, she's dead. I'll be back before you know it. Come open the hatch, Myles?"
"Sure thing! These shelves will take absolutely ages to sort, organize and loot them. I don't imagine we will be done by the time you come back." He quickly charged up the steps, unlatched the hatch, and then ran back down the steps, bowing to me with an arm stretched out, up the steps. "And do come back in one piece, Sir Lambert."
I only scoffed at him, going up the steps with Shar still passed the hell out. "Always am, Myles. I'll keep out of trouble. Don't you worry. Just going to leave her somewhere far away enough from here that she can't see it. If she's smart, she will just go the other way."
This was going to be really easy. Just take her as far as necessary. But how far would that really need to be? I'll simply go the opposite way of the flowing river. If she can't follow the river, she can't find the bunker. I couldn't help but notice how absolutely dark it became, so suddenly. This would be the perfect time to lose her. If I could see!
Here I stood, around the edge of the broken-down gift shop. Holding an unconscious lady, outside a building, in the dark. What the absolute fuck am I doing? Is this what my life has come to? I stood there, looking down at her. Good thing her bleeding has stopped. Right, getting her away from here. I didn't care for this lady, quite the contrary. She could die for all I care. I am keeping my word, however. She gave me information. Maybe not everything I wanted to ask but enough, enough to earn her life back. She should be well enough to walk, once she wakes up.
"Please, don't let me ever see you again. Don't be stupid and come back here. That's something that I would do."
I couldn't help but laugh at myself. That was too true. I would be a dumbass to return to somewhere that I should have never returned to. No creatures would wander around at this time of night. Fortunately, for us both. The hill that leads up from the lake is tall, and hard to climb. She would either go all the way back down or walk all the way around with a hurt leg.
The field, however. Is much too open. I couldn't just leave her in the field, no? No…that wouldn't be right. I had to put her up somewhere. Somewhere kinda safe. I could use a toppled-over tree. Hoist her onto it, with the bag and just go on my way. Yeah, yeah. That would be good enough.
I couldn't help but notice how light she was. When I saw her fall I thought she was in Power Armor? I wonder what happened to that. She's lost everything but the jumpsuit on her back. Using some of the overgrown vines. I covered her up to keep her even more hidden. I ran the strap of the bag down the edge of the tree branch, making sure it wouldn't fall off from any inconvenient gust of wind.
That should be good. Ignoring the fact she just flopped onto an uprooted tree. Backing away I could barely tell she was there with all the vines. My conscience is clear, I can leave! Whatever happens from here, isn't my responsibility!
…
I began to walk away and had a nagging feeling. Just telling me to make sure she wakes up, safe. Why, why?! Why should I care? She's the enemy! I've killed people for less. No, no. I'm not turning back. I was already nearly down the hill. This stranger will not be the cause of any peril for me!
I dug a claw into the ground, using the dirt to slide my way down the hillside, and ended up just shy of the gift shop. It was a long way down. Don't need to worry about her making it down promptly. I was kinda surprised I didn't hit anything on the way down.
The darkness grew even more and more. The night was passing quickly. This night was practically without a visible moon, given the lack of natural light. I made sure to not take a dip in the lake, working my way around it. It came to my realization that we should leave here the moment morning hits. Likely go back to the Flea Garage.
This place was in absolute disarray. I managed to find the concrete circle that lined the river. I found myself just leaning on a large fallen tree in the middle of some kind of rest area. Funny, that's what I'm doing now.
It kinda made me sad. Seeing places like this. I can't help but speculate what it was like before the war. Happy families not worrying about surviving day in and day out. Not overgrown by long-dead fauna. It must have been something beautiful.
Is this what Frank wants back? The old nation that once was. Every fantasy I've ever had of how life was before. Were they all true, at least a little? It makes me wonder if people deserve the opportunity to obtain the life that was ruined, again. Like, people had their chance to appreciate the life that once was. Everyone is to blame for the Great War. As far as I am concerned.
Nobody won.
Leaving my little tree of thought. I decided it was time to get back to Myles and Adam. Barely saw the outline of the dilapidated gift shop. I knew my destination at least.
The trip around the lake, in the darkness. Wasn't very exciting. I was kind of amazed I saw absolutely nothing on the trip there and back. This place shouldn't be as vacant as it is. If life, that is. Oh well. Easier travel.
I knocked on the hatch and awaited a response. "Myles? I'm back. The lady has been dealt with. She shouldn't be an issue for the foreseeable future. If she's smart she will keep away."
A faint clapping could be heard from below the hatch frame. "Bravo! Your ability to move unconscious ladies from bunkers is unmatched. No one could have hauled her away as well as you!"
Myles pushed open the door with a long, hunting rifle and gestured me down. "I was getting just a little worried. It was getting dark and you weren't back. Did you take her to Nevada or something?"
I just shook my head, going down the long steps. "No, no. I just took her up the massive mound of a hill, behind the gift shop. Left her on a fallen tree, covered her in vines, and strapped the bag to one of the many protruding sticks."
"I see, that should be fine. Good work. Adam sulked away in the back after slamming down one of the shelf lines. I didn't want to pursue him. He just lost a friend. People like that are dangerous."
Myles pointed to one of the back hallways with a thumb.
I glanced past Myles at the cracked doorway with a sigh, "I should go talk to him. If we are going to offer to help him, we all need to be on the same page. If he's going to be reckless and not a team player I want no part of that. We can just leave him on his way."
"Yeah, yeah. You are right. I can't help but feel bad for the guy though. You are probably right that he would be less likely to lash out at a Deathclaw, huh?"
"Hah, yeah. Most likely. Does this place have a bunk room? I would like to sleep soon."
Myles rubbed his hands together, put his fingers up to speak, and then stopped. "Yes, uh, you see. Adam is in the only room. There is a double bunk we were going to take. I don't know about you. The room is-"
I stopped him. "Yeah, yeah isn't big enough. I got it, I got it. Adam doesn't want to bunk with the talking lizard. Whatever, more power to him. He can have his previous, 200-year-old bunk bed," I left to enter the bunk room.
Myles stopped me though. "Wait, wait. Maybe we should just leave him be? He stormed off for a reason. You have times you want to be left alone too, you know. Let's just give him time to think and consider everything. When morning hits we can go back to the Flea Garage, find Styx, and figure out what to do from there."
I grumbled in defeat. "Look at you, being right. That's a good enough plan for me. We can just follow the river upward and figure out how to go from there. It should be easy. Was there anything particularly good in this bunker? The anticipation has been killing me, the whole time!"
I shook my arms together like an excited child, getting a present.
He paused for a moment, looked around, and shrugged. "Not to disappoint but, um," He looked down, clapped his hands together, and looked back at me. "No! But… it's not all for naught. The shelves mainly consisted of things we can't use. Old glass bottles, pieces of tools, odds, and ends. It seems this was a collection bunker. Like when someone heard the world had ended, they literally gathered things they collected, as a hobby. Like bottles, and things like that. Hobbies don't save you in this Wasteland!"
I leave against the wall by one of the stretches of shelves, pulling out my journal, "Tsk, I know! How dare people have hobbies in this Wasteland! Goodness, the audacity for someone to find something they like doing in this world of things that aren't fun doing," I opened it up, enthusiastically. "Really, such a shame!"
"Ack, at least your writing is a document of your journey. What can these bottles do for-"
"I mean they can hold water?"
Myles only glared at me, then at a shelf absolutely lined with bottles of different sizes and colors. If high pitched sounds are capable of breaking glass, the look Myles was giving those bottles would be a good equivalent. "Are you kidding me? Do you even know how old these are? Cleaning these would take so much damn effort and carrying them? I would get shot, clanging my bag full of dirty water in my rainbow entourage of bottles!"
I only shrugged, giving him a wide grin. "At least you would die in an array of colors other than brown and red!"
He sat at the table, deliberately facing away from the shelf of bottles, defeated. "I was just expecting something more down here. A whole ass bunker. No guns, food or-"
I stopped him, pushing myself off the wall. "Did you ever consider that this place wasn't even a nuclear bunker? Maybe it was just a cellar for the gift shop. Given how completely unstocked it seems to be. We should ditch this place the moment morning comes."
Myles just leaned back in the chair, adjusting his hair, and simultaneously pulled out a bottle of beer from his side pack. "This fucking Wasteland sucks," He didn't even take a second thought and broke the cap of the beer with his teeth.
I closed my journal and set it down at the table, tested one of the chairs for my weight, and took a seat, facing sideways. "That I can agree with, more than anything," I paused and debated for a second. "Hand me a beer. I should be fine in very, very spaced moderation."
Myles just looked at me, completely letting go of his drink, nearly knocking it over, off the table. "A-are you sure? You always make it very, very clear that you can't drink alcohol. Anything. Period."
"Yeah, yeah. Give it to me. I feel like making some mistakes tonight."
He groaned and rifled through his belongings. And stopped when he and I both heard a clunk of glass. "Goddamnit, I was hoping to not have another, so obviously apparent," He pulled it out and handed it to me, hesitantly. "Are you absolutely sure? I'm not responsible for whatever happens to-"
I only swiped the bottle out of his hand and popped the cap off, with my thumb claw, without a word. I hesitated hardcore. Tested the opening of the bottle with my tongue and then pulled the whole bottle back. I gulped down about half of it in a single swig. I nearly dropped the bottle at the sudden rush of taste from the bottle. I broke into a coughing fit, setting it down on the table.
Myles stood up to help me but I held one hand up and used the other to rub at my throat. The bitter, warm taste was disgusting. How does he drink this? "Ack! I'm fine, I'm fine. Mistakes were made tonight, huh?" I looked down at the bottle. Well, I'm not some little bitch. I chugged the rest of it in a single swoop. Wincing at the action and swallowing it in a thick gulp. The second time down was easier than the first. "Ugh, so how much alcohol count is in that beer? I was going to do it in sparring chucks but, fuck it. Mistakes tonight."
"Alcohol count? I mean, it usually takes someone multiple, upon multiple to be affected by such an old, pre-war beer. I don't imagine a single one would affect someone as large as you. Just, you know. Don't go dying on me for this bottle."
I only burst out laughing, "No, no! I won't be dying because of a single beer bottle. Not this one, at least. I feel alright. Not any better than I started. I thought alcohol was supposed to numb these feelings?"
Myles took another swig of his. "Unfortunately, you aren't even buzzed. I imagine your size has something to do with that. No one knows how much alcohol it takes to make a Deathclaw drunk. Let alone one THAT SHOULDN'T BE DRINKING!"
"Oh, hush. I'm fine, see? Definitely not at all feeling it inside or anything. Thanks for the drink, Myles. But, don't worry. I think that beer was so washed down from sitting so long. It won't tear me up as much as expected. I'll be okay."
I stood up and nearly fell over, using the table for support. "I-I think I'm going to go to sleep now."
He only stopped me, pulling an arm out and catching me just as I turned away. "Oh no, you don't! You don't get to just drink a whole beer and then just waltz away from me like that! It's not like you to wish for mistakes, let alone make them on purpose," With a squeeze of my forearm he pulled me back to the table. "What the hell is wrong with you, John?
Goddamn it Myles I don't need this now! I tried to pull away but his grip was unwavering, hell he even pulled with me so my efforts were pretty much in vain. "You're not going to let go, are you?"
"Not until you give me a reasonable explanation."
"Don't suppose telling you in the morning will suffic-"
"No, it won't. Now speak or I will not let you sleep."
With a defeated sigh I asked, "At least unhand me. I can't get you off me without hurting you."
He grinned, let me go, and flopped back onto his seat. "Glad to see we came to a reasonable conclusion, now, talk."
I stood at the opposite end of the table, under a blaring circular light. "Why do I feel like I'm being interrogated?" I asked.
He just crossed his arms at me.
"Alright, Myles I'll tell you. I'm scared, scared for the future. I'm hurt, I'm frustrated. I just feel like a ticking time bomb. That's really lame, I know but it's the best way I can describe it." I stopped, debating if I wanted to continue, "Fuck's sake. I am a fool. A fool, Myles! A fool for thinking that I can make a difference in this Wasteland! Frank Horrigan seems to have killed intelligent deathclaws before. He knew what I was enough to mistake me for someone, for a moment. He wasn't there when my Vault was massacred. Did he kill my ancestors? How am I supposed to take on something that has killed multiple generations of us?!"
He leaned forward on the table and just stayed in that position, thinking. "It seems like he has a personal vendetta. I shot an entire magazine into him, it did nothing. I never thanked you for pushing me off that cliff. I never even thought of using the river. You were quite bold to get him off alone. We'll get him, John. Don't worry."
"We'll get him, huh?" I heard from the doorway. Adam leaned against the opening with his arm up, "I took some time to gather my thoughts and figured out what we are really up against." He avoided eye contact with us and took a seat at the table, on the long side. "Styx would want me to avenge him, not pout in some underground bunker."
He continued, addressing me. "John, he seemed to know you. Almost too well. You are telling me that you don't know who he is, what he's done?"
I leaned down on the table, using my index claw to tap on it. "No, no. He knows my species. Not me personally. I never heard of him or know of what my species was doing before my Vault. I can only assume he killed my ancestors, long, long ago. The name Goris, he said that and that was personal. Thought that I was him."
I remember, my father mentioned Goris. Wanted me to go and find him. Without a direction. They are definitely related, somehow.
Adam only cleared his throat. "I don't know about the name Goris. But Frank Horrigan, that name is somewhat familiar to me. It took me a moment to make the correlation. He's all the way from San Francisco. I'm talking about nearly 70 years ago. He is a Secret Service Mutant. An unstoppable force that bleeds his ideals. US Government. He wants the world that once was. He will do anything to achieve that goal. Even killing innocent people at a moment's notice."
All this information is beginning to line up.
Adam continued, questioning me. "What do you know about your species, John? We had rumored documentation of talking deathclaws but I was always under the impression it was an imitation of human speech. Cases of wild ones can make voices, not full-on sentences, not like you."
"I…know nothing about what Frank mentioned. I never heard the name Goris till then. I always knew we came from somewhere else, before my Vault. Our history was very bleak. I mean, I know nothing about it! I wasn't even hatched at the time you mentioned Horrigan, 70 years ago? I'm only 45, Adam. I was hatched on April 5th, 2262. You need to add a few more years to that equation before you go thinking that I know more than I do."
"But you are the only case of an intelli-"
"It's impossible, Adam! I was told nothing!" I hissed at him. "I'm the last of my kind, Adam. The rest of us were killed. 30 years ago. I was only 15 when it happened. Sorry I wasn't busy thinking. Huh, I wonder if Frank Horrigan was involved in this! Guess what. He wasn't! He wasn't there. It was in Nevada, anyway."
"Okay, Damn. Calm down, John." Myles spoke up, finally.
I only shook my head, pointing my claw at Adam. "No! I'm not calm! I don't appreciate Adam here implying that I know more than I do. Oh, the irony! Mister, secret organization. My species was massacred for what we are, twice! Apparently twice, according to Frank. Do you realize that once Frank kills me there will be nothing left of intelligent deathclaws?" I stopped and slammed the table in Myles' direction, "Don't mention my father, Myles! He doesn't count. He was in captivity, not surviving the Wasteland. He doesn't count because he's old anyway."
"Alright, enough! What did you learn from our prisoner bitch?" He talked under his breath, "We still should have killed her."
"I never denied that we shouldn't have killed her! But we aren't monsters here. This is a short summary but, from what I understand. This Frank isn't the original, he's an imitator. Based entirely on the DNA of the original, this one was made, in a lab. A sort of reincarnation. Not sure how they managed to transfer memories and ideals. Some kind of advanced Enclave technology. So, those tubes and pipes we saw on his back are his life support, literally. He is getting liquefied people pumped into him as a fuel. His body deteriorates at a rapid rate that he needs organic matter to keep it from breaking down entirely. This was one apparently just a test."
I saw Myles react the most to this news. "Oh, that's awful. Are we sure this is true? That seems gross enough to be real and that's just, ugh!"
"Yes, it's funny. He goes on about how I am a mistake of science. I don't imagine he's looked in on himself. Fuck, he isn't even like, real! He was reincarnated in a science lab."
Adam scratched at his thin-forming beard. "Did you ever consider that they are making Synths, of Frank Horrigan? What an idea. A literal weapon of a man, mass-produced to cleanse the wasteland of all things post-war. No one is going to survive this. If this one is just a testing phase, we still have time to stop it! If we don't stop him, everyone, including us will be eradicated."
Myles grumbled. "The Brotherhood of Steel have all too much experience dealing with Synths. This might be our answer to the missing people of the Flea Garage. We should go back there, warn people and then figure out a plan from there."
"Yeah, after we have some kind of rest. I would like to sleep. Then we can head back in the morning. I never asked, Myles, Adam? You two didn't have any wounds from the Frank Encounter?"
They both shook their heads. "No, aside from some minor scrapes from the tumble, we both got out okay."
Tapping on the table to get my attention, Adam asked, "Speaking of getting out okay, how did you get away from Frank, John? Seemed like he wouldn't just let you go easily. You obviously didn't kill him to escape."
"It's simple, really. I used one of the defused mines, from the ground and pressed it between us both. I stalled for enough time till I came up with a plan. He thought I was willing to blow us both up. I spent most of my time trying to avoid his hits and getting thrashed around. Once I made sure I had all my things accounted for I jumped into the river. And found my way here. He never pursued me. Though, when I jumped off the ledge, I heard him yell something. Never did figure out what that was. Raging rapids and all. He's got some real anger issues."
With a wide yawn, Myles stood up and wiped his eyes with one hand. "Sleep sounds wonderful. We can figure out more tomorrow. I don't want to creep up on that place at night, get jumped by a two-legged tank, and turned into a fleshy fuel source."
Adam stood up and left us both with a simple. "I concur."
"Not even a good night? That's cold, Adam," I sighed, looking back at Myles, seeing him stumble to the bunker room. "Goodnight, Myles. We will get moving right in the morning."
"Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, John. I'll keep Adam calm. Maybe even try to talk to him."
That sounds like an awful idea, I couldn't say anything before he left me. Closing the door behind him. Oh well. Too tired to try and pursue that.
I made sure to bend the hatch handles, twisting them together so no one could just open it without much effort. Part of me wants to believe that Shar just woke up and left the area. Another part of me knows how people are and suspect I'll see her again.
I found a nice spot away from all the shelves, laying myself on the cold, concrete floor. I'm sure I'll be able to sleep this alcohol off.
I'm going to make some more mistakes once I see Frank again.
End Chapter: 30
Author's Note:
Hello everyone! I know I took quite a hiatus but I wanted to say that I will be (Hopefully) making an effort to consistently update the story, once again.
I wanted to ask, as a favor for you all. If you have made it this far, I would appreciate a review! I've had so little in terms of feedback for my 3 years of writing Claws of the Wastes. I want to know what people are thinking! If you don't want to leave a review, please, please feel free to message me. I would love to have a chat about my tale! Chapter 30 marks big things to come!
I would also like to give a shout out to "RichardsonSquared" over on Deviant Art! They drew my Deathclaw very wonderfully! Can't share links on Fanfiction, unfortunately. Give them a look if you want to and check out John Lambert in art form!
Deviant Art: RichardsonSquared
