Wasted Lands – 17

As Jason approached, he raised his arms. Several Legionaries broke their own lines to meet him. They were followed by a dapper abomination in his white fedora. More and more soldiers arrived as word spread through their ranks: the Lone Wanderer was surrendering.

A dozen Legionaries took up positions around Jason, spears and machetes and hunting rifles at the ready, surrounding him in a ring of death. The dapper man pushed his way to the centre of the circle so that he and Jason were nose to nose.

Jason met his enemy's triumphant gaze and said, "I surrender."

"Yesss…" the abomination smiled widely, "Yes you do, Wanderer. The Good Doctor will be most pleased." He turned to a nearby Decanus and said, "take him away."

"As you wish, Frumentari." The Decanus bowed his head low. "And the town?"

A chill wind blew across the wasteland, and the Geiger counter on the Wanderer's Pip-Boy let out a burst of static.

The dead-eyed Frumentari smiled, cold and venomous, "Decimation!"

It took a split second for the order to register, then Jason let out a cry of fury. The Legion troops surrounding him frantically plunged their spears forward, and he dodged as best he could, though one ran clean through his gut tearing a ragged, bloody hole. A hunting rifle went off, but the bullet whizzed past his ear and hit another legionary. A machete came down towards him, and Jason caught it by the hilt and twisted the man's arm, breaking it as he wrestled the weapon free.

The Legion swarmed around him like angry hornets. He blocked an incoming machete blow and spilled the man's guts out across the sand. Another machete bit deeply into his back, driving him to one knee, even as a second spear entered his side.

Roaring in rage and agony, Jason snapped the first spear which was sticking out of his stomach, and launched himself at the nearest Legion solder, the second spear wrenching free as he drove the broken spear tip up through the man's chin. The Wanderer's momentum carried him forward and he lunged towards the nearest pale, dapper figure.

Maybe it was Krupp. Maybe it was Martin. Jason didn't care. He rushed the pale man at full speed, broken spear in one bloody hand and machete in the other. The pale man was ready for him, and easily dodged, using Jason's own movement against him as he tossed the Wanderer into the dirt. The Frumentari moved in to finish him, but Jason swung wildly, forcing him back.

The other Legionaires made to intervene but the abomination waved them off. "Take the compound, if you please, yessssss."

The other pale figure led the assault on Jason's compound. The wastelanders within, realizing they had been betrayed, poured out, guns blazing to meet the Legion assault. But the hunting rifles cracked, forcing them into cover, and giving the abomination a moment to reach the gate, which the creature easily twisted open, to the horror of those inside. Quinn opened fire with the Xuanlong assault rifle, which bought the survivors time to cross and reposition. Red took the opportunity to retreat, clutching her wailing child to her chest. She disappeared into the largest structure in the compound.

The ghoul also managed to hit the Frumentari in the chest with a string of 5.56mm rounds, and the pale man fell into the dirt, the front of his dapper pinstripe suit darkening with red blood. But Quinn had stayed out of cover a moment too long; a legionary hunting rifle cracked, and he fell from his post, the Xuanlong with him.

Jason tried to rush for the compound gate, which was no more than two-hundred meters away, but he found the other pale figure blocking him. The legion monster gave him a reptilian smile as it shrugged off its suit jacket. Jason stepped back two paces and threw the broken spear past the frumentari, planting it neatly in the back of one of the legionaries who was taking aim at the compound.

The Frumentari flicked his wrist out, unbuttoning his sleeves and daintily rolling them up as he approached the Lone Wanderer. "I admit I am curious, Wanderer: You killed Mister Burke, Yeesssss. But I am an improvement." He took up a fighting stance while behind him, the Legion approached the compound in formation: three men laying down covering fire while three more moved up to the gate, where the other pale figure was rising back to his feet.

Another shot rang out and Timebomb cried out in agony. The sound of baby Gabby wailing in the compound could be heard above the din of battle.

Jason roared and charged forward, swinging the machete in fast, heavy strokes, trying to land a blow across one of the Frumentari's limbs, or his neck. Yet the dapper figure was too quick, dodging and dancing out of reach, waiting for an opening.

Jason thrust forward and his foot slipped on loose gravel. The Frumentari pounced, kicking the Wanderer's knee aside, and slapping the blade away. The pale figure drove his own knee into Jason's face. The force of the blow knocked the Wanderer senseless, and threw him onto his back, his nose completely crushed. His vision swam, and the noise of the battle seemed dim and muffled.

But he could hear the pale figure laughing. "You are not so difficult a challenge, Wanderer. Not in the light of day without all of your… toys."

The blinding, disorienting sunlight was suddenly blocked as his enemy picked him up by the front of his heavy, blood-drenched Brahmin-skin shirt. "The Good Doctor gave my brothers and I the strength of ten men." The pale figure drew his fist back, his expression gleeful. "What did your travels give you, Wanderer?"

His punch barreled toward's Jason's battered face, but the Wanderer brought his own hand up and caught the blow dead. It hit like a truck, though; he felt the bones in his palm break. Tingling pain poured down his arm, but he swung back his other hand and hit the Frumentari with a mighty right hook, knocking him away, and the Wanderer fell back into the dirt.

The Legion was in the compound, moving slowly from building to building. Jason could hear the clatter of machetes against rifles as the surviving wasters engaged in vicious hand-to-hand combat with the more experienced and better trained Legion troops. And the child was still wailing.

Clutching his hand to his side, and breathing heavily, Jason struggled towards the machete which glinted in the dust. The Frumentari came again behind him, snarling in rage. Jason felt spidery fingers grasp at the back of his shirt, he made a desperate leap forward, fingertips brushing the handle of the machete before the abomination's arms wrapped around his neck in a chokehold, pulling him back from the weapon.

Jason gasped for breath, driving his elbow repeatedly into the abomination's side as hard as he could. It made no difference, so he leaned forward, bent his knees, and pushed off the ground, throwing them both backwards. Their landing was heavy and bruising. Jason's opponent huffed, and the grip loosened for a split second. Jason threw his head back, smashing the abomination's nose.

The pale man cried out, and his grip loosened further. Enough for Jason to slip out and dive for the machete. His enemy recovered just as quickly, and threw himself after the Wanderer, landing on Jason's back a second time.

Except this time Jason's fist had closed around the machete. He had no time to turn around, he knew, so he folded it up under his arm and fell forward, planting the base of the machete against the ground, and the tip up to meet the Frumentari, who was throwing himself upon Jason.

The abomination let out a pained grunt as he sank down onto the blade. Jason rolled them both over and pulled the blade out, straddling his opponent. The pale man snarled at him in rage, bringing his arms up to block Jason's downward stroke. Yet the machete passed neatly through both arms, and sliced down across the Frumentari's face, severing his head at the mouth, leaving the lower jaw and the tongue attached while the upper half of the Legion monster's head rolled slowly away.

Jason did not stop to bask in his hard-earned victory. He charged down the hill towards the compound gate, in time to see a dozen Legionaries with assault rifles wash the thin walls of town hall with assault rifle fire. The large building was where the remaining Wastelanders were sheltered, and Jason could hear the cries of pain and fear as his longest, truest friends died. The wails of baby Gabby were cut short in the storm of gunfire, and he could hear Uncle Leo shrieking in pain.

Jason fell upon the Legion lines with fury and madness, all sense of self-preservation neglected. Bullets and blades bit at him, but he hardly noticed. He hacked limbs at random, screaming and bellowing as he bounced down their line, felling soldier after soldier.

The butt of a hunting rifle slammed into the side of his head, knocking him sideways and disorienting him for a moment. A pair of hands gripped his belt and the back of his shirt, and bodily tossed him back through the air to land on the bent and twisted compound gates.

"Ready!" the voice of the second Frumentari called out as her struggled to his feet, his wounds closing as his skin absorbed the bright sunlight. The remaining Legionaries had lined up in a strict formation, two-rows deep and a dozen men long. The front row was kneeling, back row standing tall, giving every man there a clean shot at the Lone Wanderer.

"Aim!" The Frumentari cried from the end of the firing line.

Jason bared his teeth, "Fuck you!"

"Fire!" ordered the man in the pinstripe suit.

The last thing Jason saw was the bright flash of two-dozen muzzles, and a thunderous noise which faded to nothing.

To call the raiders confused would be doing the term a disservice. Kook and Briggs look absolutely stunned. Flummoxed. Bamboozled.

The cook, who had been scampering and dancing around the firepit had come to a sudden and abrupt halt, one knee still up in the air, and jaw agape. He held a pair of blackened tongs high in one hand, and a knife in the other. Briggs the Butcher's face was hidden behind his horrifying blood-spattered gas mask, but the arm he had been dismembering fell from his loose grip and flopped to the floor.

"Boys…" Jessica said, knowing she had seconds at most to take control of the situation. She strode into the centre of the room, mustering as much confidence as she could, and planted one hand on her hip, waggling an imperious finger at them, "boys, I've got to say …I'm disappointed."

Kook glanced at Briggs, his raised fist slowly lowering to his side. In the shadows of her cage, the little girl pressed her pale face to the bars, watching carefully.

"I've come straight from Krong himself. He's very… unsatisfied… with your cooking."

"Who da fuck are you?" Kook asked.

"Krong's new Chef." Jessica shot back. She stepped forward and ripped the tongs from Kook's unresisting grasp. I'm more important than you, and I'm asking the questions here.

Kook once again glanced at Briggs, who shrugged back at him. The butcher's breath hissed beneath his mask.

"Look at this…" Jessica said, staring down at the strange meat which sizzled away on the grill, "Tch, no spices? No veg? You're just feeding scraps to the King?"

"Naw hang on a second-" Kook said, slowly recovering from his initial shock, "I bin cooking for Krong. I'm da cook."

"You call this cooking?" Jessica asked dryly, picking up a strip of meat with her tongs and giving it a derisive stare, "I wouldn't feed this to a wild dog. Where's the imagination? Where's the creativity?" And you call yourself a cook? You philistine! "I've seen mirelurks serve better dishes."

Kook's grip on his knife tightened. Briggs was laughing under his gas mask, but the sound came out in deeply unsettling huffs and wheezes.

"You think you can cook better dan me, Lady?"

"I know I can." Jessica shot back smugly.

"Well…" Kook looked severely offended. He kept looking at Briggs for support, "well maybe I just kill yeh. Then I'm best cook again, eh?"

"Maybe we should have a cook-off. A test." Jessica said, perusing the shelves. She gestured at the giant blood-soaked butcher and said, "Briggs here looks like a reasonable man. He can be the judge. If I win I will…" she scanned the room, "I'll take the kid in the cage."

"That's tomorrow's lunch!" Kook protested. The child whimpered.

"Really? That? You think that would fill Krong's belly?" You'd feed our King a half-sized human? You must not love him very much…

"Naw it ain't just that…" Kook said, "we got more meat."

"We'll have plenty of meat either way." Jessica told him, "If I win, I take the girl and we cook you. If you win. You take the girl and … and cook me. Sound good?" Have you ever heard fairer terms?

"Now 'ang on-"

Jessica crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, "You said you're the best…" Prove it, coward.

Kook's face flushed red with fury and embarrassment, "fine den, bitch. Let's cook."

Jessica flashed Briggs a bright smile, "of course, you'll judge? This is the Lord Krong's meal, afterall…" You're an honest man, right? You wouldn't lie. Not when King Krong's Happiness is at stake.

Briggs gave her a single, short nod. Kook grinned at him.

The butcher cut them each a large slice of meat from the rump of the corpse and the two cooks set to work. Jessica selected a rather deep cast-iron pan and set it aside, rifling through the various boxes for supplies. She found some instamash and a mutfruit in one of the containers, as well as a selection of ancient spices.

Kook immediately cut the meat into strips and laid it sizzling across the grill. He turned to her and watched in bemusement as she poured the instamash into a dented pot and added some irradiated water.

"Here, what're ya doin'?" he demanded, "thought we was cookin."

"I am." Jessica cracked open a few of the spice jars. One still smelled vaguely of garlic, and she sprinkled a generous amount into the pot with her instamash. A small cylinder of dried chopped onions went in next, and she moved on mixing sea salt, pepper and paprika into a dry rub which she poured carefully onto the slice of flesh, working it in with her fingers.

Jessica recalled her first day in Goodsprings, gathering ingredients with Sunny Smiles and capping off their adventure with a wonderful campfire meal. she silently thanked the young woman for introducing her to campside cooking. It was a useful skill for any traveler, but the Courier had never imagined the knowledge would be used like… like this.

What the hell was wrong with the Capital Wasteland? And how many more times would she have to ask that question?

Both the caged child and Briggs were fascinated by the culinary experiment. The Butcher even put down his knives and ripper, and leaned against a nearby pillar to watch them.

Kook rifled through the storage boxes, searching for some additions to his own meal. He kept shooting glares at her across the cooking space. He did not expect to die, that was clear, but he was a prideful man, and was visibly annoyed as he pulled out a box of Blamco Mac'n'Cheese. The raider grabbed a pot of his own and set to work, pouring in far too much water. He squinted at the instructions on the back of the box, grunted in annoyance, and tossed it aside. Jessica wondered if the raider could actually read. Probably not. His loss.

It was time to step things up.

Jessica ran across some rancid, chunky brahmin milk, and managed to keep her face straight as she took a deep sniff. She forced a smile and then caught Kook's watchful eyes. The Courier cleared her throat and turned away, putting her body between both raiders and the pot of instamash. She pretended to pour a generous amount into the pot, and then put the lid back on and set it aside.

The raider snatched it up immediately and poured a few cups into his macaroni and cheese. The horrible scent floated up and filled the space. He stirred furiously, pouring spices in at random as he tried to cover up his mistake. The looks he shot across the fire were positively venomous. Jessica returned them with a pleasant smile as she stirred the instamash and chopped up the punga fruit into bite-sized chunks. The Raider once again followed her lead, doing the same with a punga fruit.

She laid her strange meat across the grill, counting to 180 in her head. The Raider's slices had been sizzling away, and they were starting to blacken. He took them off the grill and laid them down on a platter. When her counting was done, Jessica flipped the steak over and started again, arranging the fresh mutfruit slices in one corner of her own plate. The fruit was lovely and sweet, and would add a fresh, light flavor to the otherwise heavy meal.

Kook's pungafruit was the consistency of undercooked potato, and she couldn't even begin to guess at what it would taste like. She didn't like the look of the punga. It seemed in shape far too close to a human tooth.

Her mashed potato was fluffy and light, and it smelled wonderfully of garlic, onions and pepper. Kook's mac and cheese oozed onto his platter. Jessica laid her steaming steak onto the plate next to the mash and fruit, and presented it for Briggs' inspection. The monstrous raider towered over her as he leaned down to examine the plate, taking a long sniff beneath his gas mask. As he did, Jessica winced at the stench of filth and sweat and coagulated blood.

Yet the judge let out a grunt of approval and pointed at a nearby table, where she set the meal down with fork and knife at the ready.

Kook's platter was next, and the moment Briggs took a sniff, he recoiled, growling; the raider's struggle to mask the rancid milk had not succeeded. Yet Briggs pointed at the table, and Kook laid his platter down.

The two opponents stood at opposite ends of the kitchen, glancing at each other as Briggs turned away from them both, using a puffy, heavy hand to lift his mask and bite into the dishes – the meat specifically.

The raider tasted Kook's first, and seemed to not react at all; it was the same meal he had tasted for only god knew how long… predictable.

Then he tried Jessica's. She cringed as the monstrous figure ignored the fork and knife completely, picking up the steak with his fingers and cramming it into his mouth.

"Mmmm!" The mask came down and Briggs turned towards them, triumphantly raising the steak.

Jessica shot a sly smile across at Kook, who sneered back. She turned to Briggs, "wait till you try the mashed potatoes!"

The Butcher slapped her plate away, spattering potato across the blood-covered floor.

The Courier shrugged carefully, "…or not."

The Butcher raised his mask to take another bite and Jessica caught a glimpse of bare, rotten teeth and gums – a mouth missing lips and two awful black holes where a nose should have been. She felt the blood drain from her face.

Just as quickly as the vision of horror had appeared, it vanished beneath the mask.

Briggs chewed thoughtfully.

"Whaddaya think, pal?" Kook asked.

The Butcher raised his hand and pointed to Jessica.

Kook stared at him. "what da fuck, man? Are yew kidding me?"

The Butcher shrugged helplessly.

"I guess you're the next meal…" Jessica said.

Kook began to laugh, "Briggs is my best friend. You think he'd kill me? Yer foolin yerself, Lady."

Jessica raised an eyebrow and turned to Briggs, who was looking back and forth between them, the courier's steak still clutched tightly in his fist.

"Of course he is…" Jessica replied smoothly, "Would he betray Krong for you?" are you disloyal to the God-King Krong?

Kook's smug grin wilted, and they both looked back to the giant, who slowly lowered Jessica's steak back onto the plate.

"Briggs… buddy… let's kill dis broad, eh?" Kook laughed, but his voice wavered slightly.

"You made a pact." Jessica responded, addressing Briggs directly, if you Betray Krong the Strong, you will suffer the consequences!

"Aww fuck dis!" Kook grabbed his knife and rushed at Jessica. She stumbled back, grabbing for a weapon. He was halfway through her when an enormous fist closed around his throat, stopping him dead in his tracks. Briggs slowly rose, muffled breath loud within his mask. He knocked his chair down as he lifted the spindly raider into the air.

Gagging, Kook scowled and slashed at the butcher, but Briggs' hand closed over Kook's wrist and he rammed the raider's arm into the griddle, where it steamed and spat. Kook tried to scream, but it came out as a wheeze. The knife dropped into the fire.

The giant strode calmly over to his meat hooks and table and hung his fellow raider on the largest meat hook. Kook screamed in pain but was drowned out by the sound of the ripper revving up. The butcher calmly ran the weapon across his best friend's throat, throwing flecks of blood across the kitchen. Kook gurgled, twitched and the body went still, swaying gently back and forth.

"Excellent job." Jessica congratulated, Krong is pleased.

The butcher glanced at her, opened a drawer and tossed her a set of keys. He pointed at the girl's cage and then turned back to Kook's corpse, burying himself nonchalantly in his work.

Jessica caught the keys and approached the cage. The little girl whimpered and scrambled to the far corner, covering her eyes.

"Hey," Jessica said gently and quietly, her voice soothing, "I won't hurt you. I'm here to help." I'm here to save you. Just relax and follow me. "You don't have to be scared anymore."

The child uncurled and climbed into her arms. Jessica got to her feet and carried her away, taking care not to disturb the Butcher, who was engrossed in his work.

Time to plant the evidence, and let off the fireworks.

So this might be the single grossest, most disgusting thing I've ever written. I got halfway through it and had to stop because I was making myself feel sick.

The Capital Wasteland is an ugly place. So are the less civilized parts of the Mojave, but Jessica is a Modern Woman of New Vegas. As Many a True Nerd observed in his fantastic Fallout 3 Is Better Than You Think video, New Vegas is Post Post-Apocalypse. It's about the birth of new civilizations and the conflict of ideals, but The Capital Wasteland is not so far away from that moment of incredible horror and pain, and all of that is still very much at the forefront of how people operate.

For this series, Jessica needs to see where the Wasters (Jason specifically) comes from. The world he excelled in. The place which made The Lone Wanderer, so that she can understand him. The next book in the series, Dam Nation, will do something similar with Jason experiencing the Vegas Strip.

On a much larger level, Fallout as a franchise has never really shied away from the horror of the post-nuclear world. It is true that the deepest horror which the Fallout franchise shows is that Humanity was always ugly, the world was already wrecked. All of civilization was a veneer hiding opportunism, abuse and scandal. Before the bombs fell, the rich ate the poor, the haves ate the have-nots. But the franchise has always gone out of its way to allow that bestiality to show through in more obvious ways. The bombs just made it literal. People like Kook and Briggs have always existed in one form or another. With civilization gone they can freely be what they always were.

Fallout Fanfiction Stories that hide from, or tone down that aspect of the series are not capturing Fallout's true nature. On my most recent playthrough of Fallout 2, I crossed the bridge, exited the starting area and was immediately eaten by cannibals. Immediately. It's simply the way of the fanchise. The bombs just tore the mask off. This is just Humanity and we never learn, so war never changes.