Chapter 7: The End of the World – Skeeter Davis
POV: Harry
His belly happily full with warm stew and more than a few beers, Harry ambled along sedately with Barney Rook, enjoying the clear skies and warm weather as he surveyed how the settlement was getting along. People everywhere were energized and smiled at him, stopping their work for a moment to share a few words with the wizard. Overall, despite the threat looming over them, Harry was pleased at how Salem was prospering. Daphne joined him a short time later, her easy smile lifting his spirits even further.
Nearing the gate, Harry spotted several men and women in Minutemen livery loading their brahmin for the return trip back to one their settlements. He walked over and spoke with the provisioners for a time, exchanging pleasantries until a shout from the walls drew his attention. The massive steel doors swung open easily to reveal a wistfully smiling Luna and an ever scowling Soleil.
"Luna! Welcome back. It's good to see you."
"Hello Harry, Hello Barney. It's nice to be back. It's like coming home."
"Um, this is home Luna."
"That's nice."
Soleil rolled her eyes dramatically, though Harry could see that despite her show of irritation at Luna's ephemeral ways, her body language toward the slight witch showed that she was fond of her. It was an interesting match to say the least, the towering dark skinned amazon-like woman with the willowy Luna, their personalities as opposite as one could imagine. Still, they seemed to get on and complemented each other quite well during their forays out into the Commonwealth.
"We're not staying long." Soleil added tersely.
"Oh?" Harry asked, directing his question to Luna.
"Just came to clean up and say hello to friends. I want to visit some of the other settlements too, such interesting people around. Like that soldier, Roger." Luna's smile widened as she directed that last bit to Soleil, who arched an eyebrow at the less than subtle hint.
"He was… nice." Soleil muttered.
"You did giggle an awful while you were with him. I almost checked in on you to make sure you weren't being attacked by nargles." Luna murmured, leaning in conspiratorially.
"Giggle? Really?" Harry asked, astounded at the mental picture.
Finally unsettled, the dark woman blushed furiously, "He found my tickle spot. That's it."
"He must have found it several times during the night." Luna lowered her voice to Harry, "It kept me up all night."
"Don't we have something we need to be doing?" Soleil broke in, her embarrassment having reached its apex.
"Not really." Harry and Luna said together, to Barney's ever growing chuckles.
"Well, find something." Soleil growled through gritted teeth.
Wiping his eyes surreptitiously, "You know, Susan and Vincent are heading to Starlight. If you haven't been there yet, maybe you can tag along?" Harry offered diplomatically.
"Oh, that would be nice. Let's do that." Luna remarked, moving to leave. "See you later Harry, Barney."
Soleil didn't farewell them; instead directing meaningful glares at the two and nodding respectfully at Daphne, who had had the sense to keep her mouth shut.
As soon as the two left hearing range, Daphne broke out in barely controlled giggles, her eyes tearing up as she unleashed the pent up hilarity.
"Good for Roger." Harry murmured with a smile, remembering the lone Minuteman fondly.
Harry grinned foppishly at Daphne's struggle to control her laughter as Barney excused himself, telling them that he wants to detail some Salem militia to escort Susan and Luna on their trip. Harry waved him on and led a still shaking Daphne back to his apartment. He knew that George would be busy all day with Will working on their idea to transform the fishing trolleys and tugs into flying ships like the Constitution. That meant that they would have the room all to themselves, and he had less than honorable intentions for his lady.
An hour later, the pair were relaxing in a tub of almost scalding water, the room filled with swirling steam as they lounged together. Harry sighed happily, the pent up passion he had been husbanding for the past several days finally sated for the time being.
He had barely locked the door before Daphne was on him, and they had made love with an unrestrained, frenetic energy that could have very well ended in injury. Harry had had the presence of mind to cast a quick charm to shield the room against the sound of their 'activities' from escaping and potentially disturbing any of the other men who lived in the building. A good thing too, for Daphne was not shy about voicing her pleasure and as it turned out, neither was he.
The glow of post-coital bliss surrounded them both, Harry gently tracing the contours of her languorously dangling leg with a soft washcloth.
"How about we just stay here forever." Daphne murmured, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the attention Harry was paying to her wet and naked body.
"Aside from getting very pruny, eventually the water will get cold." Harry remarked with a grin.
"That's what wands are for." Daphne laughed.
"No, THIS is what wands are for." Harry splashed water everywhere as he pulled Daphne closer to him, her wet body sliding against his and driving him nearly mad with need.
"Yep, you're right, this is definitely what wands are for." She murmured lustfully as she felt his ardor growing between her legs. "Is that a wand in your pocket or are you happy to see me?"
Harry showed her his answer, the water from their tub splashing all over the floor as he demonstrated just how happy he was.
POV: Jeremiah
His daughter Ivey was strung up with barbed wire over his scrying pool, the dark liquid seemingly roiling with awareness at the agony playing out above it. He stalked around his errant progeny, his mood dark at the sobs escaping from the young woman, each one punctuated with fresh pain as the barbs dug into her flesh.
"I really wish you'd be quiet, normally I would enjoy the crying but I AM trying to think."
He sighed profoundly, as one of the few magically gifted children he had managed to father, he had no interest in killing her, though he had to be firm with his children and let them know when he was less than pleased. Still, she had provided a wealth of valuable information regarding the wizard he had scryed at the General Atomics Factory.
He was powerful, and a skilled duelist to so easily overpower Ivey. And her mention of not one but two attractive young witches that accompanied him nearly made him forgive her failure. Nearly. She had lost one of his facilities in the Commonwealth, the forces and material within representing a fair amount of his strength.
"Gustav! Get in here."
The doors to his private sanctum screeched open and the man, still leashed within the penitent engine, howled in fresh pain as the barbs tugged at his flesh whenever the chassis moved. The powerful suit marched and stood obediently before the dark wizard, Gustav breathing heavily with the exertion.
"I have good news for you!" Jeremiah announced happily, "Ivey here will be taking your place for a time.
Jeremiah winced as he was interrupted by a fresh deluge of sobbing cries from the girl, his mouth drawing tight in irritation.
"Try not to fret my dear, I won't keep you in there long. Just long enough to remember that failure has a price. It's character building!"
Oh no, he wouldn't keep her in there long at all. She was young and healthy, and with the crop of fresh slaves from the Vault, he intended to breed her as quickly as possible now that she had proven to be ineffective out in the world as his agent.
He turned back to Gustav and was about to speak again when a chorus of moaning cries interrupted him yet again. He tried to restrain his anger, as he turned to find a Rust Devil entering the sanctum, the echoes announcing his arrival tapering off as the man came to stand nervously before him.
"You have something for me child?"
The Rust Devil nodded, clearing his throat before speaking, "Yes my lord. The Gunners have sent word. They have accepted the contract and will begin right away."
"Oh good! That's very good! Thank you very much. You may go." He declared magnanimously, pleased at how well the young man obeyed as he literally sprinted from the room.
His spirits were lifting, the Gunners had agreed and for a relatively low price too. Three captured muggles from the vault and a few hundred caps were little to him but apparently represented a fair price to the Gunners, who would now venture out and endeavor to capture the ones who had thus far evaded his reach. Even if they failed, they efforts would weaken them, and make subsequent attempts all the easier.
He hummed happily to himself as he flourished his wand in Gustav's direction, the man releasing an overly profound breath of relief as the penitent engine withdrew its hooks from his flesh and allowed him to flop onto the floor unceremoniously. He simply lay there breathing, the tiny wounds in his flesh oozing blood onto the living carpet.
With another wave, the hooks shot out from the torture device and impaled Ivey, whose screams renewed as they burrowed into her flesh. They tugged at her, ripping muscle and skin as they attempted to draw her in. He paid little attention, smiling down at Gustav as the man drooled on the floor. A wet rip was accompanied by an exquisite shriek from his daughter, he looked up to find that the engine had torn a flap of skin from her stomach as it continued to try to pull her away from the barbed wire still suspending her above the scrying pool.
"Oh silly me!" he remarked, "I forgot all about those. My apologies dear."
He released the barbed bonds suspending her, allowing the engine free reign to draw her in, the clawed cage drawing closed around her. The device was designed to hold someone who had been divested of their limbs, so she was splayed awkwardly within as her limbs contorted inside the metal carriage.
"Heh, you look ridiculous dear." Jeremiah chuckled, "You'd laugh too if you could see yourself."
He waved his new guardian away, who tromped back to the gate with Ivey's fresh howls accompanying the trembling footfalls of the massive dreadnought. He turned his attention back to Gustav, who had drawn himself into a fetal position, as much as the stumps of his arms and legs would allow.
"I'm going to offer you a chance to redeem yourself, Gustav."
The man looked up at him with bleary eyes and licked his lips in anticipation. Jeremiah smiled down kindly on the failed usurper and knelt at his side.
"There is a settlement to the north. Some enterprising individuals eking out a rough but satisfying life for themselves. A patrol has been observing them for some time and even report that their seekers react, meaning that there is at least one magical living there."
Jeremiah sighed, as if in regret, "Unfortunately, these people are abominations. I can't have them continuing to pollute the new world we're trying to build. I need you to go there, capture whatever magicals are there so I can study them. Murder the rest."
Gustav panted in excitement at the opportunity, the sadist within him writhing with pleasure at the thought of inflicting pain on others for a change. The relief of being free from the penitent engine, even for a short time, made him nearly cry with joy.
Jeremiah patted Gustav's head, pleased with the honest rehabilitation his engine had secured on the formerly recalcitrant Rust Devil.
"Succeed, and I will allow you to die in peace." Jeremiah announced.
Gustav nodded vigorously.
"I knew you would agree! Now about your limbs… you can't very well be my hand without any hands!"
Jeremiah leviosa'd the stumpy torso and pulled him along gently to his lab, a well-appointed room adjacent to his throne room. He laid him gently on a table and summoned his nurses, four mechanically augmented women whose eyes were sewn shut. They staggered to the table in a grotesque mimicry of life, their half-naked bodies on display beneath their elaborately naughty nurse outfits. They whispered sibilantly, the nonsensical words interspersed with soft moans as they jerked and twitched.
Gustav eyed the women hungrily, as the pain from his confinement eased, he felt his appetites for other sensations returning.
Noting the look in his eyes, Jeremiah decided to be generous, "Once we've put you back together, you can have some fun with them." He gestured to the nurses.
He didn't bother anesthetizing the man as the woman excised the healed flesh on his stumps to prepare them for transplants. He hummed to himself as Gustav screamed, examining the robotic limbs that his minions had prepared for him. He eyed them critically and compared them to the writhing body on the table, discarding one after another until he found the two arms and two legs he needed.
The procedure went well, and soon Gustave stood again on robotic limbs designed to rend and tear. Jeremiah walked around him, admiring the work and nodding in satisfaction. Gustav stood still, his tears drying on his cheeks as he awaited his master's pleasure.
"Yes. This will do nicely" He waved a wand over the man and healed the rending surgical wounds so that the limbs would stay attached rather than rip themselves free as soon as his agent tried to move.
Gustav shuddered as he took his first (relatively) pain free breath.
"I'll give you an hour with them." Jeremiah indicated the nurses, "I need to get your assistants ready anyway. Just be ready to leave once your time is up. I want this done soon."
Gustav nodded enthusiastically, his trousers already beginning to bulge as he eyed the twitching coterie of female flesh. At Jeremiah's nod, they moved forward and moaned as they ran their hands over his flesh, hot mouths pressing themselves and tasting his body as the man shivered with delight. The wizard glided from the lab to the wet slurping sounds as the nurses pleasured his servant, his thoughts already moving to the hunter killer robots awaiting him in storage. He hadn't had the chance to unleash his latest creations yet and he was excited to try out his emulation of the cursed Mechanists robo-brains.
He slippered feet whispered on the cold metal floor of the storage space, his breath misting before him as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkened interior. Chiding himself, he casted a dim 'lumos' and navigated between the robotic bodies dangling from chains hanging from the ceiling. The chains tinkled as the bodies swayed with his passage, his eyes peering ahead at the four golems he had recently finished.
He ran a hand over one of them, breathing in sharply as he cut himself on its barbed skin. His eyes gleamed with delight as he smeared his blood over the automatron, the eyes of the tortured settler who now composed the creature's face following his movements. They stood at 7 feet in height and were built much like the succubus model assaultron that Ivey had used as her personal guard. They had bladed crests rising out from their backs and were covered in rusty barbs. Because Jeremiah found it amusing, he had kept the faces attached to the settlers he had harvested to provide brains for the devices, pleased that his research in the dark arts enabled him to bypass the difficulty of integrating the biological matter with his machinery.
Bereft of all personality with the generous use of 'obliviate' charms (he couldn't very well have any lingering morality conflict with his orders) they stood slack jawed and frozen, awaiting his commands.
He smeared more of his blood on the others, chanting all the while, infusing them with a measure of his dark power. Merely being in their presence would inspire fear in all who beheld them, not that their appearance wasn't frightening enough. He considered other methods of further augmenting them, but decided against it, as his work had already nearly consumed the hour he had promised Gustav.
Commanding his hunter-killers to follow, he returned to the lab, waiting patiently while Gustav finished. The man shuddered as he spent his release into the nurse he grasped by the hips, the moaning desecration of female flesh writhing beneath him.
"Ah, just in time." Jeremiah announced happily.
Gustav turned to him, releasing his hold on the slave and standing straight in front of his master. The dark wizard chuckled as he saw the gleam in the man's eye, sure that Gustav would do his utmost to see his will done.
"These will be your helpers." Jeremiah swept his arms wide, indicating the four golems, "Go forth and do the work. Please me, and perhaps I will let you take the nurses one more time before your eternal rest."
Gustav's face contorted with hunger and hurried from the chamber, heedless of his nudity as he gathered up the robots in his wake to unleash his brand of sadistic terror on the settlement to the north.
POV: Susan Bones
The new day glowed brightly through her window, birdsong rousing her from her pleasant sleep and putting her in the right state of mind for the start of her journey. Travelling to a nearby settlement to trade for building materials was not much of an adventure compared to the harrowing tales that Harry often told, but it suited her just fine.
Bathing and dressing quickly, she pulled her lengthening hair into a ponytail as she walked out of the women's apartments, blinking as she ran into Vincent who was calmly waiting for her.
"Good morning, Susan." He called out brightly.
"Hello Vincent." She answered with a smile.
"Luna and Soleil are going to meet us at the diner for a quick breakfast before we head out."
"Oh that's nice of them."
Vincent paused for a moment, "Luna said they were coming with us. They didn't tell you?"
"No, but the more the merrier. I pretty much just stayed in my room after the meeting yesterday, thought to get plenty of rest before the trip."
"Good thinking, some of the boys and I stayed up playing darts after my shift ended. I left early to get some rest too… had nothing at all to do with losing 30 caps to Barney on the last game."
"I hope you didn't spend all your money, I hear that Starlight is the biggest trading hub in the Northwest Commonwealth. Maybe you can pick some new clothes are something."
"Maybe… if you help me pick something." Vincent replied, his tone carrying a little more weight than the innocent statement implied.
Susan blushed slightly, "I'd be happy to. Ready to get going?"
They walked in companionable silence to the diner, the bulk of the day's traffic having already eaten their breakfast and headed out to get on with their day. They made their way to the booth where Luna and Soleil were already seated, tucking into a breakfast of beans, eggs and leftover sausage that had been grilled.
The matron waddled over and set down two plates for them, smiling at their thanks as she poured coffee for Vincent and tea for Susan.
They chatted while they ate, or rather Susan, Vincent and Luna chatted while Soleil sat in stony silence. Finishing their plates, they made their way to the gate where Barney had told them he'd have men waiting to escort them.
Adjusting her pack, Susan shielded her eyes as the small caravan exited the settlement, a shiver taking her as she passed beneath the shadow of the wall. The gates boomed shut behind them, and Susan had to gulp to repress the mild sense of dread she felt at the sound. Luna skipped ahead while Soleil growled along behind her, her longer legs swiftly catching up to the light witch and moving ahead to take point. The three Salem militia spread out on either side, watching the surrounding area carefully even though they were still in sight of Salem's walls.
They stopped to rest late into midday, climbing up the bluff that surrounded Tenpines on three sides. The Minutemen on guard waved cheerfully at the troupe, Luna skipping up the guard tower to talk to the man, much to his surprise. Susan chuckled at the man's discomfort as Luna asked him deeply personal questions for no apparent reason as the rest of them walked past the original shack (which now served as the Minutemen's office) and into the settlement proper.
Tenpines was built right on the edge of the cliffs to the east; aside from the shack that the original brother and sister had lived in, there were three new buildings. A long three story building was built on the edge of the cliff, the bottom floor allowing access the guard posts that overlook the cliffs as well as a well-tended bar, soft music wafting out from the old-world jukebox within. The top two floors were long hallways that had the bulk of the living space for the residents, each settler allowed the luxury of personal space, like tiny single room apartments.
The central building was more of a wide wooden pavilion with a few stands for entrepreneurs to hawk their wares and a recreational area with a pool table and plenty of comfortable seats for the settlers to relax. Built above it, more family oriented rooms were located.
The last building looked like a burnt out shell of the lone house that had stood here when the bombs fell over 200 years ago. The walls had been patched and a new roof added on but the southern-most wall was left off to allow ventilation. The building housed the settlement's generator and workbenches, even now the hammer and clang of industry issued forth as men and women repaired tools or broke down salvage.
The group walked up the wooden steps to the restaurant/bar, Susan gasping in relief as she pulled her heavy backpack off of her tired shoulders. Vincent sidled up to the bar where a weary looking ghoul idly wiped down the already clean surface. He perked up a little at the new customers and greeted them with a gravelly voice.
The group relaxed and ate lunch there, parting with a few caps to preserve their supplies. They left shortly after noon, heading south along the train tracks that eventually passed fairly close to Starlight. Thankfully, the Minutemen had cleared Bedford station and a small crew had stayed on guard while shirtless men labored to load massive stone blocks onto railcars for delivery to Starlight.
Luna and Susan stopped long enough to lend their magical aid to the men's work, who were thrilled at the magical display and appreciative of the pretty young witches' relieving them of much of the work they had in store. They moved on to more than a few whistles and catcalls, to which Susan blushed furiously, Luna smiled ignorantly and Vincent's growled jealously. Soleil took it in her stride and shook her head at the dark expression on Vincent's face. She shoulder checked him as she walked by, shaking him from his black mood and forcing him to hurry to catch up.
Vincent's mood lightened considerably when Susan looked up and smiled at him, the simple gesture putting a bounce back into his step as they approached the entrance to Starlight. Despite the things that Susan had seen, she was awestruck by what the muggles had accomplished here. The old drive in was almost fully restored though it served a very different purpose than it had in its heyday.
The main entrance to the settlement were two roads that passed under the 'wings' of the pre-war building that once served movie snacks. These days, the wings are enclosed and reinforced with guard stations and turrets mounted on top. The minutemen on guard waved the group through as they approached, recognizing the outfits worn by the Salem militia.
The eastern side of the theatre was dominated by a series of four story apartment buildings of fairly good construction (considering that they used scrap wood and steel to put them together.) Further east, the land had been tilled in preparation for crops to be planted, with marker flags further out still to delineate where the stone for the walls should go.
The old movie screen was still intact and served as a massive curtain wall protecting the west side of the settlement. Susan could see the tiny figures of men and women walking along the top. The formerly empty space in between the buildings, where pre-war movie goers once parked to enjoy the theater, was a riot of colors and noises, as people from all over this part of the Commonwealth, laughed, argued and traded with one another.
"Shouldn't be too hard at all to find the goods we need!" Vincent had to shout to be heard over the clamor.
"It might take all day though." Susan shouted back, noting the barely controlled chaos and seeming lack of any kind of rhyme or rhythm to the numerous stalls and vendors.
The group decided to split up, the three militiamen securing lodging for them while Susan and Vincent went in search of a junk trader. Luna and Soleil had inexplicably disappeared at some point during their planning, but Susan wasn't concerned at their absence. Luna was often distracted by something and there were plenty of things to be distracted by here.
Susan stayed close to Vincent as they pushed their way through the noisy throng, eyes peering in every direction searching for the vendors they needed. Susan had been told to find a fellow named Sheffield, a former drunk who had turned his life around and ran a successful caravan business in Starlight.
Susan felt Vincent place a hand protectively on her back and she couldn't help but feel a thrill as his strong hands settled comfortably on her body. He guided her gently as they made their way through the tumult, avoiding the shouting merchants who thrust various goods in their faces and meat hawkers who tempted them with freshly grilled kabobs. Susan wondered though, where did they get squirrel meat from? She hadn't seen a squirrel since coming to the Commonwealth.
Eventually they found Sheffield, who was happy to meet folks from Salem, and promised to deliver the needed supplies there on his next run for one of their 'owls'. That business concluded, they mingled in the market, Susan even fulfilling Vincent's request to find him some new clothes. She purchased a sundress in remarkably good condition and wondered how she and Vincent would look together in their new outfits. She blushed at the mild fantasy and absently wandered up to the old projector room. To her surprise, the projector was still there and despite the centuries of dust and neglect, looked fairly intact.
Vincent watched curiously as she brandished her wand and uttered a 'reparo' charm on the device. What little damage time had ravaged the equipment with were cleared away in moments, though the machine didn't seem to do anything.
"Probably just needs power." Vincent noted, "I'll see if I can find someone to run a cable out to it from the genny."
The sun had set by the time Vincent and the mechanic finished running the thick cable up the stairs to the old projector. Susan flipped the switch and yelped as a shower of sparks erupted in front of her. She fell back against Vincent's chest whose arms instinctively wrapped around her. With a whir of artifice, the projector came to life and shot a beam onto the movie screen. Noise erupted from the speakers like a screeching cat before resolving into melodramatic music. The title splashed up on the screen.
"Casablanca?" Vincent read, "What's that?"
"A movie that was old even in my time." Susan answered.
The crowd had largely dispersed by then but was reforming in astonishment as the noise and light attracted people from all around the settlement. People were entranced by the 'movie' that they had only heard tales about and were settling in to watch, getting comfortable with whatever was at hand. The two climbed down from the projector room and walked out onto the 'wings' of the Starlight building, the elevation giving them a perfect view over the closed down stalls of the marketplace. Vincent somehow found a chair and set it down with a flourish, indicating that Susan should take it. She hesitated, looking around for where Vincent would sit when he took the initiative and sat down, pulling Susan onto his lap. She giggled, forgetting that she was supposed to be nervous and looked deeply in his eyes for a long moment.
"Hey up there! Did you fix this up?" A voice from below called out, snapping Susan from her reverie.
She jolted up and felt faint for a moment, all the blood having rushed from her head. Vincent protested wordlessly as she pulled away, and without a word, she hurried off to get some fresh air and to stop her head from spinning quite so much.
"What in the world is that?" The conscript whispered, indicating the riot of sound and light coming from the settlement ahead.
"How in the hell should I know?" The sergeant replied, his patience for the young idiot having been depleted 20 miles and 500 questions ago.
"Stand down sergeant." The Lieutenant and commander of this patrol hissed, intent on the disturbance coming from Starlight, "this may very well be what we were looking for."
A lone woman was walking just on the outskirts of the settlement, a pretty thing with dark red hair and pale skin. She seemed lost in thought and oblivious to the Gunner patrol who lay mere yards away. The Lieutenant considered taking her captive when he spotted the gently tapered length of wood secured to her thigh. That sealed it, she was one of the 'special' people that their latest client was looking for. Tapping the sergeant on the shoulder, he pointed emphatically at the woman, the sergeant's grin gleaming in the moonlight as he nodded.
"Plaza, this is Romeo Two." The sergeant whispered into his radio, "We need prisoner extraction 1 click south of Starlight."
"Copy Romeo Two, bird is in the air. Plaza out."
They leapt up from their cover, the conscript cursing as his shin barked against a rock and giving away their position. The redhead looked up with alarm and saw the dark shapes rushing toward her and squealed in shock. Her panicked first reaction was to pull her wand and send a stun toward the lead shape, the Gunner stumbling in a heap as the magic slammed into him. The others doubled their speed as she turned to run, catching her wildly flailing limbs in their iron grasps.
"Help!" the woman screamed, making the sergeant curse under his breath as he rocketed a fist into her face, silencing the woman.
Too late, the Minutemen on duty heard the distress and bathed the patrol in spotlights. An alarm wailed as the Gunners shoved the unconscious woman behind cover and began firing at the lights and the guards who were rushing to their posts.
POV: Vincent
Vincent had waffled between following her and apologizing or waiting for her to come back. He had eventually steeled himself to go after her and got up to do just that when he heard the unmistakable sound of her screaming. He froze for an instant, but was propelled into action when her voice suddenly cut off, dread reaching icy fingers through his heart.
"Get on the radio! Tell the General we need him!"
"Send the owl! Salem will send help!"
He ran in the direction of the shouting guards and the sporadic but increasing volume of gunfire, the half dozen minutemen trading potshots with the equal number of Gunners hiding in the field to the south. One of the guards cursed loudly as a bullet struck his shoulder, the man falling back and nearly colliding with a panicking Vincent. He paid the wounded Minuteman no mind and rushed heedlessly toward the danger, his eyes going wild as he imagined the worst.
He finally spotted her, her ponytail undone and her dark red hair having fallen over her face like a shroud. Wailing as his heart leapt up into his throat, he slid down the shallow gully the Gunners had shoved her in, bowling over the wide-eyed conscript who was guarding her. Vincent drove an elbow into the man's face and pulled the Gunner's laser pistol from his stunned grasp and shot him repeatedly in the face with it.
The conscript fell back, his face a burnt and bloody ruin as Vincent scooped up his Susan and ran back toward the settlement.
He barely felt the bullets striking his back, his focus entirely on the woman nestled in his arms. He dropped to his knees next to a guard post, the Minuteman manning it pulling him and Susan into cover.
"Holy shit! You're bleeding all over the place!"
"Check on her!" Vincent begged.
"But you…"
"Check on her!" He roared, frantic.
The minuteman looked over the still unconscious woman, checking over her carefully despite the bullets whizzing over their heads and plinking off their protective defilade.
"She's fine, just got knocked out with a hell of a punch."
Vincent tried to take a breath in relief, but found that his lungs didn't want to obey.
"Hey! HEY!" He heard the Minuteman shout, as he toppled over with a groan.
He lay there and stared into Susan's face, aside from the deepening red of the bruise on her face, she looked like she was sleeping. He poured all the love he had for her in that moment, reaching out with a trembling hand to stroke her cheek. His eyes failed him then, and he whispered her name before the darkness swallowed him.
The Minuteman cursed under his breath as the man died, the stimpack he had been about to use clattering from his fingertips. He looked up sharply as a strange 'whoomp whoomp whoomp' sound approached, the tiny flame of his hope flickering and dying as he saw Gunner aircraft circle around to present the ominous maw of side mounted miniguns. He had the presence of mind to grab the woman and drag her further back into cover before the Gunners unleashed hell on the settlement.
POV: Harry
Her lips were warm and wet against his, their efforts to dress for a late dinner stymied by their rising passion. What little clothes they had managed up until that point was quickly removed and thrown aside as Harry pushed Daphne back onto the bed, her eyes twinkling as she giggled with delight.
He settled on top of her, their kisses becoming deeper as their hunger for each other reached a crescendo when the door burst open with a bang!
"Harry! Starlight is under attack! Oh, hi Daphne." George shouted, his words jerking them both upright in an instant.
"Luna! Susan! We have to go now!"
"Yeah!" George agreed, "But maybe put some clothes on first?"
Salem was in full alert, as if someone had kicked over an ant hill, Barney yelling at nearly a dozen of his militia as they ran for the Constitution.
"Captain! How soon can we launch?" Harry shouted, having hopped on his broom and flew directly onto the frigate's deck.
"It will be some time sir!" The robot wailed, "The engineer and that red headed wizard were poking through the engines, they hadn't put it back together yet!"
Harry cursed, that meant that there would be no help from them for the time being. Still, they had a few brooms and four wizards/witches could make one hell of a difference in a fight.
"Harry! What's happening?" Piper yelled, as she hurried up to him, pulling her red coat on hurriedly.
"Starlight is under attack! We have to go now! Help Ironsides get the ship ready!"
Piper nodded as Harry rocketed into the air, George, Daphne and Lilith quickly following him.
"Wait… what the hell do I know about rocket engines?"
POV: Red Rocket
The sunlight glowed a golden halo around her smiling face, softening the edges and lending to her already beautiful visage an angelic aspect. She smiled coyly and murmured, her words a meaningless mumble to him. He reached up and cradled her face in his hands, bringing it down to brush his lips against hers.
"WAKE UP!"
The pleasant dream dissolved with mournful alacrity, cold and dark reality slamming him awake. Her face, so unlike his dream, was creased and worried.
"Please wake up! People are shouting through the radio about an attack!"
Jonathan let himself be pulled upright by Hermione, who huffed at the exertion. It took him only a moment to collate what she had said with the frenzied screeches issuing from the radio and the insistent beeping of his pip-boy.
Hermione nearly squawked in surprise as Jonathan threw back his blankets and strode confident and powerfully to his arming chamber, heedless of his nakedness. Hermione gaped after him, the contours of his body lit only by the soft candlelight that the super soldier seemed fond of. She shook her head of the image, her cheeks flushing crimson as she fought to catch her breath.
She caught up to him as he pulled on his trousers, beating a harried looking Preston Garvey by a scant second.
"General! Did you hear?" Preston demanded respectfully, in between haggard breaths.
"I did, did you just run here from Sanctuary?" Jonathan asked as he pulled on his boots.
"No, I was on patrol to the north near the vault with Marcy and Jun. I ran straight here while Jun went to grab some men from Sanctuary and Marcy went to do the same at Abernathy."
The General nodded, thankful that Preston had a good mind for such business, "Get on the radio and have them meet us at Drumlin Diner. We can move in force from there to 'sess out what's happening."
Preston threw the General a quick salute before rushing out, leaving him alone with Hermione for a moment. He ignored her for a time, busily girding himself for battle in the matte black regalia he favored. She watched in fascination as his adept fingers cinched straps and fastened buckles with practiced ease, the muscles of his arms and back flexing like steel cords as he hefted the weight of his gear. He took up a brutal looking assault rifle before fixing her with a determined gaze.
"Are you ready?" He murmured, his eyes fixed on a point somewhat above her head.
She turned around, confused at what he was looking at before turning back towards him, "Um… yes?"
He nodded and moved out brusquely, pausing at the door and glancing back to make sure she was following.
Confusion still clouding her mind, she shook it off and moved to join him, her wand held ready in her hand as the pair jogged south through Concord. Hurried footsteps heralded Preston catching up, the Minuteman pulling his hat low to keep it from blowing off. Roger seemingly materialized from thin air as he stepped out from a shadowy doorway, falling in step with the trio with barely a whisper. Hermione nearly gasped in shock, though Jonathan seemed to take it in stride as he didn't so much as flinch.
All the traveling they had done recently had done wonders for her stamina, her breath not nearly as labored as it would have been months earlier as they stumbled to a halt outside of Trudy's restaurant. (She once ran a junk trading post, but had to shift her business as Starlight became a more popular stop for caravans.)
The crew found Trudy and her son cowering inside the diner, peering fearfully through the open windows at the percussive echoes of gunfire lighting up the sky to the east. Trudy screeched as Jonathan's shadow fell over her, the older woman falling onto her rump with a hand clutching her chest.
"Damn it boy! You trying to give me a heart attack?!"
"Sorry Trudy." He muttered, though his attention was riveted on the distant combat taking place in front of him.
"What the hell is going on over there?!" Trudy demanded, her initial shock giving way to her natural tendency toward bitterness.
"We're here to find out." He answered simply, his eyes drinking in the scene. Hermione could almost hear the gears in his head clicking as they calculated the data he was collecting.
"Starlight is being assaulted by ground and air from their south. Ballistic and laser weaponry." His words were interrupted by a long screel of sound, like a massive zipper being drawn across the sky, "That was a minigun. We need to move in fast and reinforce the settlement, where are those other men?!"
As if summoned by magic, Jun and Marcy ran up the road leading to the diner ahead of more than a dozen Minutemen. They were a good lot, as they seemed hardly winded after their break neck pace from Sanctuary and Abernathy.
All business, the group saluted the General as he swept out from the diner, his hard eyes glittering as he surveyed the group.
"Preston, take command and lead them into Starlight from the guard station on the side closest to us. The attack is taking place along the opposite side and whoever it is hasn't thought to spread out from there yet. Reinforce them while I flank. Hermione will go with you."
"Wait, what?" Hermione spluttered indignantly, "I'm not one of your soldiers to be…"
"You go with them, it's safer." Though his voice was soft, something in his face stopped her protests. A pleading look in his eyes seemed to transfix her and render her budding arguments moot. She nodded weakly and kicked herself at the way his glowing smile of relief made her heart stutter.
Screams competed with the gunfire, throaty wails of pain reaching their ears between every retort of a laser or bullet. The few remaining minutemen sweated despite the chill as they hunkered down and returned what fire they could. The turrets on this side of the settlement had acquitted themselves well, cutting down nearly a dozen Gunners before their vertiberd shot them to pieces. If only they had had time to install one of those missile turrets, it would have made short work of even the Gunner's fearsome airpower.
Still, the Gunners kept their cool, spreading their forces out and advancing slowly but inexorably toward the settlement. A figure in power armor burst out from behind one of the smoking ruins of a guard station, a tattered Minuteman falling away from the exploding splinters of wood with a cry of anguish. The power armored Gunner roared through his suit speakers, the body of a woman draped insensate over his shoulder barely stirring even as he rocketed away.
'This is it,' he thought, 'this is where our dreams come crashing down.'
There were nearly two score Gunners out there, growing bolder by the moment as they realized just how badly the defenders had been mauled. Of the dozen Minutemen who stood garrison here, less than half remained. His weariness seemed multiplied tenfold under the weight of impending defeat, his eyes drifting to the motionless bodies of his friends and fellow minutemen lying ignomiously in the dust. He cranked his laser musket and sighted down the jury rigged sight, hoping to slow down the Gunner with the captive. He had seen a man risk everything to pull her from their clutches, and it seemed a shame to see his mission fail.
With a percussive 'sprang!', his laser shot slammed into the Gunner's knee joint, but to his chagrin, the shot didn't seem to slow him down in the slightest. Someone else must have gotten the same idea, as the spot he had just fired at exploded in molten metal and flesh just before the rifle retort echoed through the battle field. It must have been a .308 to do that much damage, for the Gunner wailed tinnily from his helmet speakers and collapsed onto the ground, his charge slipping from his shoulder in an ungainly heap.
The man looked around, lifting his automatic rifle while trying to regain his feet. Another shot rang out, sparks flying from the side of his helmet and throwing his head to the side with the force. With a shout, he angrily directed a squad of Gunners to lay down suppressive fire while he pulled himself toward their scant cover, the captive forgotten for the moment.
The assault upon them slackened, the diminished fire proving a godsend, allowing the five Minutemen to gain better cover and quit the burning wreckage before the smoke did more to put them down than the Gunner's fire. A trio of frag grenades flew out from the Gunner's position, forcing the defenders to huddle in their cover as much as possible. He jammed himself as small as possible behind a wooden tower, praying that the rotten lumber and rusted metal would provide enough protection from the grenades. He breathed a sigh of relief as the explosives detonated, showering him with bits of debris but doing no lasting harm.
He hazarded a glance out over the fields and cursed as the Gunners used the distraction to press their assault, a full dozen of the mercenaries rushing forward. He squeezed his eyes shut as he awaited the searing pain that announced a bullet or laser lancing through his flesh. He heard the cries of pain and the surge of gunfire which nearly drowned out the hammering of his heart.
A few moments past and yet he still drew breath, daring to open an eye in confusion. He gasped as he witnessed a laser shot cut through a rampaging Gunner's neck, his head rolling free from his shoulders in a macabre display. The others, the six or so remaining, dropped to their stomachs as a hurricane of rounds tore the air above them. Astonished, he nearly wet himself when a man plopped down next to him, his dark skin shining with perspiration.
"Preston Garvey." The man announced, by way of introduction.
"Yeah, yeah. I know who you are." He stammered, shock getting the best of him.
"You've held them off well, you should be proud. I know I am. Now we just need to finish this fight and get them off of Minuteman territory!" Preston proclaimed fiercely, his teeth bared.
His flagging spirit soared at the man's presence, and the dozen more Minutemen who rushed up to take defensive positions. They kept the Gunners in the field pinned, though the aircraft that was circling about made this anything but a done deal. He looked up at it, and tugged on Preston's sleeve nervously as he realized that he was staring straight at the maw of its side mounted minigun.
Preston opened his mouth, but his words got caught in his throat as the vertibird was suddenly consumed in a massive ball of fire. A whooping man swooped past on a broom of all things, ducking beneath the craft before circling around. Another blast of fire struck the ailing ship, as a second, third and fourth person on brooms surged into the fray, blasts of energy whipping from their wands. The Minutemen cheered as the vertibird, roiling black smoke billowing from it, groaned and fell to the ground in a mighty crash.
Hermione dropped down beside the still form of Susan, panic rising in her chest as she noted her friend laying like a ragdoll. She rolled her over and listened to her chest, releasing her pent up breath as she heard the strong beat of the woman's heart. Angrily, she blasted a charging Gunner in the stomach, bending him in half and sending him screaming away through the air. She summoned a shielding charm to protect them both from the shots that continued all around them, albeit much more sporadic as the Gunner's came to realize that the battle was lost.
Harry, Daphne and George landed next to Hermione, their questioning gazes and distressed expressions only mildly assuaged by her affirming nod toward Susan. Their heads jerked almost as one as the burning wreckage of the vertibird shifted, the entire mass of twisted metal lifting up as a figure pushed the aircraft off himself.
They gasped at the man, his power armor sparking with near uselessness as he snarled at them, his face a rictus of pain and fury. Harry strode forward to meet him but felt a powerful hand restraining him. He looked up to see that Jonathan had somehow joined them, his sniper rifle held loosely in his hands while his eyes were locked upon the Gunner emerging from the wreck.
"He's mine." He announced quietly, unslinging his combat rifle and letting it drop gently at his feet. The Gunner, seeing who challenged him, grinned widely, the white of his teeth a sharp contrast to the blackened and bloodied flesh of his face.
"Well, well! If it isn't the prodigal son! My dear brother returns at last!" The Gunner shouted, almost cheerfully.
"I told you that the next time we met, I would kill you." Jonathan replied, the coldness of his tone actually sending chills down Harry's spine.
"You will try." The Gunner laughed, as he pried himself free from the useless power armor frame.
Harry blinked, for in one moment they stood yards apart and in the next, they were inches from each other, fists and feet a blur as they fought in a whirlwind of hate. It was as if they had stopped the flow of time, and inserted themselves into a faster frame of reference, they moved faster than any human should, certainly faster than any muggle he had ever seen.
A fist thundered into Jonathan's jaw, Samuel's feint nearly succeeding in putting him off-balance. He swerved to the left, taking some of the power from the blow and using the momentum from the spin to send his leg whirling to crash into Samuel's side.
The Gunner whoofed and rolled away, regaining his feet next to a piece of burning wreckage. He grasped the hot metal in his hands, heedless of his flesh sizzling as he twirled it overhead. He charged forward with a roar, swinging the jagged propeller down at Jonathan' head.
The General twisted to the side and grasped Samuel's upper arm, pulling him further off balance. The Gunner stumbled for several steps, giving Jonathan a few precious moments to back up. His foot struck something metal, an old stop sign that the ages had worn away to a shiny octagon of corroded metal. Grasping the pole, he heaved it straight out of the ground, a massive block of dirt and concrete tearing free. He swung the makeshift weapon just in time to catch Samuel in the side, blasting his propeller blade wide and sending the man skidding to the ground.
With him kneeling in the dirt at his feet, Jonathan quickly raised the bar overhead and brought it down with a scream of rage. Samuel leaned to the right, the whistling passage of the road sign tousling his hair, and drove his fist into Jonathan's crotch. The Minuteman groaned and fell back, his armor having protected him just enough to keep the strike from being fully debilitating. Still, he fought back the nausea and blinked away the sudden surge of tears. He felt more than saw Samuel slam into him, his powerful hands seeking out his eyes. With a desperate twist, he forced his arm around his brother's neck and grasped his own wrist to apply pressure to Samuel's neck. They fell in a heap, with the Gunner clawing desperately at his forearm, drawing crimson lines along the skin.
Jonathan strained with all his might, his eyes shut tight and the muscles in his jaw bunching like knotted cords of steel. Samuel's eyes bulged, the capillaries bursting against the whites and turning them into orbs of red desperation. He gasped and heaved against Jonathan's hold, his legs pumping as he sought to stand. With a primal cry, the General yanked with the last of his strength, the snap of the Gunner's neck echoing out like a shot. The man went limp in his arms and Jonathan let his body fall free. He sat on the ground, chest heaving and eyes wild for a moment, as if waiting for his brother to stand up and resume their contest.
Harry's shadow fell over him and he felt the wizard bend to bring him to his feet. He staggered upright and finally resolved his focus away from the fallen Gunner. He saw the other staring at him, mouths gaping at the titanic struggle that had just taken place before them. Tears leapt unbidden to his eyes as an image of a goofily smiling blonde boy laughed at him from the depths of his memory. Samuel had been his crèche brother, they had been of a like age and had grown up together. The General wailed in anguish, directing his emotions into an uncaring sky.
Susan came to an hour later, moaning at the throbbing pain in her head. Hermione and Daphne helped her to sit up, the bright light in the small Starlight clinic making her regret opening her eyes. Every bed was full with the moaning wounded, the single doctor having collapsed onto a stool in exhaustion.
"Easy Susan, you took quite a whollop."
"I feel all cocked up." She moaned, clutching her head miserably.
Daphne stroked her hair sympathetically, her concerned gaze falling on Hermione as if bracing against the coming agony.
"Where?" Susan swallowed past her parched throat, "Where is Vincent?"
Hermione and Daphne's faces fell, their anticipation of the question doing nothing to prepare them for the surge of sympathy that befell them.
"What?" Susan asked, her voice rising in panic, "Where is he?!"
A few moment later, Susan stared dead eyed down at the blue sheet that had been draped over Vincent's body. Hermione awkwardly patted her on the back while Daphne held tightly to Harry's hand, trying and failing to keep the tears from falling. A low moan rose, at first lost amidst the tremulous breeze but rising in volume so subtly that the onlookers nearly missed it. Susan fell forward, the others gasping at her sudden movement.
"No, no. He's not gone. We had just started. He's not gone. I didn't tell him yet. Get up Vincent! Come on now you bloody Yank! You've been bloody pining for that kiss, haven't you? Well, I'm ready now. I need you to get up. Please? Please Vincent, get up!"
Hermione couldn't stop the tears that burst forth as Susan pleaded with Vincent, her pale hands trembling as they sought out his hands beneath the sheet and drawing them forth. Susan took up one of his hands in hers and brought it to her cheek, her eyes reddening as her sorrow spilled out.
"Get up Vincent. It's time to go home. We can go for a walk. You'd like that wouldn't you? We can walk along the shore and hold hands, like this. Please Vincent. I need you to get up now. Please…"
The dam broke and Susan collapsed onto his unmoving body, great sobs wracking her body as she spent the sum of her emotions onto him, her sobs muted as she pressed her face against his cold chest.
Hermione felt strong arms wrap around her waist and she leaned back into Jonathan's embrace, heedless of the fat drops of salt water that dripped onto her neck. She turned with a moan and buried her face in his chest, her heart breaking for her friend.
Lucy Abernathy sighed to herself for the tenth time in as many minutes. Her parents had left that morning to make the journey to Diamond City and she had had to scramble to come up with a reasonable cause that she wasn't begging to come along with them. They had relented to her false moaning as she pretended to be too sick to travel, the only thing that would keep the teenager from wanting to visit the big city. Her dad had bought it, almost ruining her plans by considering putting off the trip until she 'felt' better. But her mom had looked at her with that knowing look, her eyes narrowing slightly as Lucy withered beneath her gaze, certain that she was about to be called out for her less than stellar acting.
It surprised her when Connie had turned to Blake and talked him into making the trip, easing a father's worry by reasoning that if they hurried back, they could bring back medicine for Lucy. Besides, there were plenty of others here to look in on her, and if it came to it, the doctor could check on her for them. He had relented and with a Minuteman escort, set off with Betsy to deliver a big food shipment to the great green jewel.
Now Lucy huffed in the suddenly chilly air, impatiently tapping her foot as she waited in the shadows of the old camper on the north field of Abernathy Farms. Her patience paid off as the door opened and a handsome young Minuteman, a shuttered lantern in his hand, stepped into view.
She gasped as he came in, setting down the lantern and taking her in his arms without preamble. His lips were hot on hers, their tongues twining about each other with the passion of youth as Lucy clumsily tugged at the buttons of his uniform. Her heart was in her throat as he pressed her down onto the sleeping bag she had cleaned off for their rendezvous, the heat spreading from her womanhood as his muscled body pressed down on her.
She moaned as his mouth closed on her neck, the delicious sensation sending charges of electric current surging through her body. She felt his growing ardor and nearly swooned with the well of emotions and hormones which raged through her body. After months of stolen moments and playful talk, she was ready to give herself to him.
He wasn't much older than she was, and was driven as much by instinct as anything else, lacking the experience but more than making up with it with pure enthusiasm. They were each other's firsts… and if his heart had anything to say about it, they would be each other's 'onlys'.
Their fumbling fingers and embarrassed laughter kept them from hearing the distant shouts, the sudden rocking of the camper from a distant explosion completely unheeded by the young lovers. A sudden cry of pain finally cut through the haze of their hormone fueled lust, a shirtless Lucy bolting upright with sudden fear. Even the vision of her pert breasts in the lantern light did not long distract him from the growing sounds of combat.
"On my god. We're under attack!"
A/N: The Gunners attack Starlight and now Abernathy is under attack? Who could it be? Leave a review and I may be persuaded to post an update sooner rather than later…. Hehehe. Oh and sorry for killing off Vincent, I had actually gotten somewhat attached to the idea of the budding romance between him and Susan. It actually saddened me to write that bit, but that's what writing is all about, to express the full breadth of humanity that the character's experience.