CHAPTER 34.
The Quarry Horror.
Sanford had kind of gotten a good feel for what it was like walking around in the chambers and tunnels of the facility- it was a lonely place, real quiet, save for the pattering falling dust from setting concrete walls.
Having fled from the Enclave, and narrowly avoiding getting disintegrated by a napalm attack- Sanford, Hancock, and the Deathclaw had taken a good pit stop at a little office-like cell they had found filled with stored food.
They all were busying themselves in some way for the short time they planned to take a breather- as, the more time they spent inside the quarry, the harder it would get to escape with the Enclave outside and all.
Hancock was fiddling with the rechargeable batteries for his Plasma gun- he levitated off to the side of the cell, and gave off rattling little clicks and clacks as he took out the worn ones from the chamber compartments of his gun and slid in fresher samples.
The robot hummed some old pre-War marching tune- and Sanford grinned when he picked up the melody and pieced it together.
Poor Han', and his ways.
The Power Armor was making some creaking noises as he reached up and shoveled another container of food in his mouth- a can of Cram -and his un-helmed head looked oddly small in comparison to the titanic-appearing suit he had been constantly wearing throughout the travels.
He chewed quickly and overhand tossed the can above his pauldron- where it clacked away on the concrete floor, and bounced off the foot of a filing cabinet near the empty safe.
Sanford had managed to shove pretty much three-quarters of the rations in his trusty ruck-sack- the other half he and the Deathclaw had cleaned out in no less than fifteen minutes- seeing as they both were starving from the last few death-defying activities.
Currently, Sanford was knelt in front of the aluminum desk- sifting through all the corrupted data files that were stowed in the computer's hard drive- all of them were completely unreadable bundles of destroyed code errors.
Some of the file logs DID however, still have functionality- but Sanford was pretty disappointed when he accessed some of the good ones only to discover they were just staff rosters, or equipment tallies- he eventually found a map of the facility, and snapped his armored fingers for Hancock to come closer.
"What is it, sir?" Hancock hovered right next to him- and peered past the ridge of his pauldron with a probing ocu-lense.
"Download this map into your memory dumps," Sanford nodded at it. "See that? I told you guys there were multiple tunnels- there's one not that far from here."
"Aye, I see it... Welp'! More shit to add to the cluster-fuck of my mind!"
"Lemme' ask you," Sanford smiled as Hancock scanned the screen with an unseen parameter. "What did you DO the last two or so days we were separated?"
"Aw, you know... Ruffled some feathers here, stole a few women there..."
"Seriously, Han', what was happening? If anything?"
"...Uhmmmm... Ah! Ran into a collection of Gunners!"
"How many?"
"Fifteen, twenty? I dunno'! I ain't a mathmatician!"
"Did they see you?"
"Right after I nuked half of them! Ha!"
"You took the whole group out?"
"Definitely!"
"You can just tell that we're buddies."
"That's quite true! Hoo-rah!"
"So tell me, what happened? Firefight wise."
"It was an average shoot-up, sir! Like the hundreds beforehand!"
"Huh. Alright."
"I even met a nice droid! It was unfortunate I had to blow off her legs, but... You know, sacrifices must be made in the name of liberty!"
"A -'Droid'- huh? What kind of droid?"
"A girl!"
"HA! You found a feminine personality robot running around?"
"Yep! Assaultron model!"
"...Oh crap, the Gunners sicked an Assaultron on you?"
"It was unfortunate that said union was never meant to be... Ah, well... Such is the lonely life of the badass crusader!"
"...Yeah..." Sanford sighed, glanced over his shoulder pauldron- where he saw the Deathclaw's cloven, reptilian foot sticking out into the chamber as she leaned against the wall outside.
As if detecting him through some weird sense- her head angled to view into the doorframe of the office cell- since she couldn't fit through it- and she saw Sanford looking at her, and flashed him a toothy grin.
He chuckled at her as she slid back behind the wall.
"...So tell me this, Han',"
"Map downloaded! Ha-ha! -Ah, and, yes, sir?"
"-What happened with this Assaultron, eh?"
"Oh, well, she did what most women do AFTER the poor slob's hitched to her, before I even got to talk to her at all! She tried to blow my face off with lasers! Damned women and their lasers!"
"You talked to her?"
"She mistook me for a Gunner unit! The GALL!"
"And...?"
"I introduced myself as the gentlemen soldier I am, of course!"
"...Yep. Uh-huh. And she wanted no part of this, right?"
"Nada'! Had to blow her up!"
"Saw that coming a mile away."
"Bah! What do YOU know?"
"...Hmm. Hey, can you try to find some live files on here? I haven't dug anything good besides THIS up. I'm gonna' talk to Ms. Angerpants outside."
"Sure thing, monkey-man!"
-Sanford stood and turned from the desk as Hancock started swiping across the keyboard with efficient clicks from the tip of his claw.
The robot could hack the computer's files a lot quicker than he could- after all, with all the extra code sections that Sanford had helped Hancock upload into his system- ole' Han' was one talented Mr. Gutsy with custom capabilities- the scanning systems were just one part.
He ducked through the metal doorframe and looked down at the Deathclaw who was seated on the floor against the wall behind herself- her tail was curled over her right thigh and draped in her lap- her claw was open and the biplane book was supported in its center.
"Hey, girl."
"...That's a new greeting," She observed musingly- closing the book with a flex of her thumb. "Monsieur'."
"So," Sanford stood before her and smiled. "Close call with napalm."
"They've never used that on me before."
"Well you were probably gone most of the time before they could even consider it."
"Yes."
"...So..."
"...So...? Mon ami'?"
"...You remember that big Enclave guy you checked? The one that shot me?" Sanford gestured for the blackened tears in the chest of his suit.
"...Yes." She sounded a bit duller.
"You seemed, I guess... EXTRA angry at him."
"Yes."
"...Do you know who he is?"
"...Yes."
"...Can I ask how you do?"
"He was the overseer for my genetic project in the Enclave."
"...Wait a minute..."
"..."
"Wait, you told me you escaped Enclave capture."
"...I did."
"...But..."
"I escaped Enclave capture, AFTER I escaped their facility somewhere near D.C. I don't remember where specifically... I was too small."
"...So, the Enclave... T-They MADE you?"
"In a sense, I suppose," She lightly shrugged- looking down at his feet. "It's why I don't like talking about it, mon ami'. It makes me feel... Like I'm wrong. Like I shouldn't exist. That my very being, is... is a crime of sorts."
"...I don't think it's a CRIME, it's just-"
"I've only spoken to a choice handful of other sentient beings in my life, monsieur'- not one of them have been human," She looked curtly up at him- her yellow eyes straight, a frown on her chops. "And you are the only person I have ever told that to. Ever."
"...I-I mean, it's... Certainly startling," Sanford admitted, looking at her honestly. "-But, I-I always figured that something lab-ish' was involved, b-because if it wasn't, I would figure you would be in a pack, or a clan- or you would at least be around other loners."
"...I'd hope that, it doesn't change your perspective of me, mon ami'."
"Never. It's just surprising, but, kind of NOT suprising at the same time... You told me Deathclaws were a genetic experiment made by the army beforehand, right?"
"My kind was bred to be a biological weapon, monsieur'. It was by the United States Government AND all military sects," She nodded. "The Enclave had direct blood lineage to the United States military. It's why they have access to all of that equipment- all of that information. They ARE, the army."
"...It's unbelievable. Our country was turning into a fascist-related horror and, now, we can see what it would've become on a grander scale if the bombs never dropped..." Sanford shook his head. "I've only heard stories about the Enclave until recently. That was the first time I'd seen them up close."
"They are evil, evil people, monsieur'."
"...A-And, this guy? That you know?"
"...His name is Laslar Seduun."
"Laslar Seduun?"
"He is Superintendent of the Enclave. The most decorated officer in their ranks... He's a Connard'. A fucking Connard'."
"...He oversaw the scientists that, like, GREW you?"
"I never found out if they grew me, or if I was an embryo they took from an egg," She shrugged- looking down at the floor again. "That would mean I have parents I'll never know... Hm. Pitie'."
"So what's Laslar's deal?"
"His- 'Deal' -monsieur'?"
"What do you know about him?"
"Some of the members of my pack that had interacted with humans pieced the puzzle together... Because there were all these rumors coming from a former- 'Tex-us' -? Is it pronounced?"
"Texas, yeah."
"-There were stories from other humans that an unbeatable man was rampaging throughout the midwest, killing, raping, pillaging, and burning everything he came across. They called him the- 'Texan Terror'."
"...How long did that go on for?"
"I don't know, I only heard mentions of the stories, not the tales themselves." She sighed. "When I found that THAT was the human that had overseen my creation, I felt... Horrified. I still feel horrified."
"...Do you know how this Laslar character got into the Enclave? I thought they didn't accept outsiders like the Brotherhood did?"
"Monsieur', all I have is his name, and that he's more beast than person. I know nothing else, and I haven't seen him in almost a decade, but I could never forget that armor, or his voice."
"...Suppose this changes some things."
"...Like what?"
"Nothing bad, or, nothing that has me changing any points of view. I'm glad you told me, that you trust me for that."
"...Trust, hm." She shifted on the floor. "I don't think you realize what kind of position I have given you over me, mon ami'."
"What do you mean?"
"I've told you so many things that make me vulnerable, and needlessly emotional... Monsieur', I've changed how I go about my days so quickly, it's bothering me."
"You talking to me about things that concern you, bothers you?"
"Well, no, non', not exactly like that, it's... I don't know."
"...This world is hell, Deathclaw," He nodded down at her. "Every day could be our last- and if there's one thing that I've learned in this terrible place, it's that people move on, and they survive, and they evolve.
If humans make mistakes and learn from them, then I'm positive other sentient creatures, like some Deathclaws- do the same. If you feel like you need to talk to me- the guy you've only known a week or two -about something that is bothering you, or that means something to you, than you have every right to talk about it.
Life is short, and the Wasteland can make things even SHORTER- I'm willing to accept a good friendship with you after a week- I mean, c'mon. We've fought together, we've survived together, we've worked together, we've laughed together, and we've learned together.
I'm here for you."
The Deathclaw made a puffing noise from her snout- she was smiling up at him.
"I've never had anyone for any of this. I'm flattered, mon ami'." Her speech was a bit wavered.
"No problem. You alright?"
"-Y-Yes, I'm just being weak again, emotions and all that..."
"Emotions aren't weak," Sanford bent down with the servos in his suit releasing a tight creak- he raised a gauntlet and held it open for her. "I fear for the person who doesn't revel in their emotions."
"...Direct quote, monsieur'?" She hummed, opening her claw and clenched it loosely around the gauntlet's fingers with a shift of scales against steel.
"From myself? Sure."
"Hmhmmm..."
"...Say tough-girl, is that some flushing I detect, or what?"
Her smile flatlined for a brief second- she let go of his gauntlet and tugged at both her horns with clenching fingers- shielding her elongated face.
"No. Begone."
"Ha-ha! Ms. Angrypants got a little school-girl reaction!" Sanford joked.
"After all that nice hommage', now you make FUN of me, mon ami'?"
"Ah, what's a little poking humor?"
"Evil little thing."
Sanford stood from the ground, and as he passed back into the cell- he patted her scaly shoulder with a duo of- pwk pwk's from the gauntlet's palm.
"Han'? Find anything?"
"Sir, putting aside my dastardly cunning and valuable feedback,"
"PFFT. Yep?"
"-Sir, I really, REALLY don't like the looks of this."
If it weren't for Hancock sounding so monotone- Sanford would've continued to brush the feigned concerns away, but... Hancock was only serious when he believed the shit was hitting the fan.
"...What did you see, Han'?" Sanford asked.
"Nothing good. Read this one, sir."
CLICK
-The robot tapped the tip of his claw on a key of the computer just by his side on the desk still. The black screen flickered back to illuminated brightness, and on it was a sprawling log message.
Sanford leaned down to sift through it with a few sweeps of his eyes before starting at the beginning- and outside the cell, the previously pleased Deathclaw was now beginning to get a profane sense of that feeling that Sanford was describing earlier.
Something was definitely off.
And of course, as fate would have it- she had no idea what exactly this minute detail in the air WAS.
She couldn't pinpoint it. It was as if a small trickle of dread was just seeping into her system- and she hadn't even seen or heard anything that could've elicited that reaction from her.
So she listened to Sanford click some keys on the computer- edging her head to view into the doorframe again- she saw Hancock look at her with an ocu-lense, and then glance back at the man's pauldron whilst he focused on whatever they had pulled up.
"...Monsieur'?" She asked.
"Hold on, just gimme' a second..."
"...Mm."
She turned back around and was just getting ready to stand- she had her palm against the wall behind her, and she noticed a disturbance, a tiny one- on the edge of her upper vision.
She sucked in her breath and snapped her gaze towards the blooming illumination of the lantern they had found lit on top of the workbench nearby- and, she knew what she saw -she saw the quickest recluse of gathering shadows just snap right out of the light's reach.
It was like something was slowly emerging, and then, just, zipped back into the shadows when she got suspicious.
She didn't like that.
"Sanford," She said over her shoulder- finishing her stand, her nails unsheathed on both claws. "Problem."
Stalking over to the lantern- she swept her gaze about the chamber in all directions- she looked at the ground, at the foot of some of the piles of trash and containers in the corners, she looked at the ceiling- when she reached the work table that the lantern was on, she tested the air with a flick of her tongue.
Nothing.
No scents.
If it was a living creature, that was nigh impossible against her senses.
She looked around the workbench- glancing when Sanford rushed through the cell doorframe nearby with his combat shotgun in his grip.
"What happened? What'd you see?" He asked hurriedly- stepping over to watch her curiously as she examined the ground around the workbench's metal feet.
"I saw something over here, small, quick- jumped away when I looked."
"Me and Han's scanners are still out... Do you smell anything? I know you're good at detecting that."
"Non'. Nothing."
"...So, what?"
"I don't know, monsieur'."
"You feel alright?"
"I feel the same thing you were describing earlier."
"...Oh." Sanford felt it too. A tiny hint of dread. He didn't DO dread.
"I think you're both high!" Hancock interjected from behind Sanford as he flew out of the doorframe to join them. "Hey! The two of you look like Bloody Mary zipped in here and yanked her blouse up!"
"Han' and me just dug up another log file on the computer," Sanford muttered to her, ignoring his robotic friend. "Remember the one I showed you before? The one where a worker grabbed the guy hollering about something?"
"Sur'."
"There is a whole database of reports that were made by staff," Sanford continued. "There's hundreds of them, I couldn't read them all."
"What did they say?"
"Shadows, black movement."
"...There's something in here, monsieur'."
crrk
-The tiniest crack of ruptured glass.
The chamber grew exquisitely dark.
They all turned to stare at the work table at her flank- and they all saw pretty clearly that the lantern had gone out, and not only that, but there was this randomly appearing spider-crack that drew down its glass bulb's midsection, top to bottom.
The Deathclaw snarled and looked about the room- her eyes able to pierce the blackness- and Sanford and Hancock's night vision filters giving them perfect clarity to scan about as well.
There was nothing in that room.
There were no people, there were no animals, there were no Ghouls there was no ANYTHING. There was nowhere for anything to hide. This was screwed up.
"Han'," Sanford muttered. "Download that map you got, into my HUD. Let's get out of here. Now."
-0-0-0-0-0-
Four exitways were found- four exitways were overseen by a Vertibird and a team of guys. Luft was being kept in one of the craft so he could be dropped into any of the zones should the Deathclaw and her posse' emerge from a random arch- and the soldiers needed help.
Laslar was going into one of the tunnel entrances with a group of six men- and another squad of eighteen that had been dropped in as reinforcements were going into another tunnel to the east.
This one was built into the side of a raising hill not too far from the quarry pit- it had been wide open, the steel door swung off to the side- and a concrete ramp descending into a series of dark tunnels.
"No need to maintain radio silence," Laslar recounted into the global communications link whilst he and his team became enshadowed from the daylight outside under the beginnings of the tunnel, their boots clacking metallically in an organized pattern of falls. "See anything, report it. Fall back if the thing tries to close distance with you- each team has two Heavy Flamers in the middle ranks- use them."
"Affirmative."
"Got it."
"Luft, you're on standby. If any of the outside watches report the 'Claw, drop in THAT specific zone to aid the soldiers- everyone else will converge from the rear and sides."
"Yes sir."
-0-0-0-0-0-
The map in the lower corner of Sanford's internal display at least allowed him to visibly keep up with what Hancock was telling him, and which directions he should be heading. Together, they worked themselves on the fastest route possible towards a southern exit tunnel that lead back out to the hills.
Sanford had two things that were giving him grief as he trudged through the tunnels of this quarry, that apparently had some kind of messed up THING in it with them- one, just traveling through the place was bad enough after what had happened...
-But two, they'd have to try to fight their way through whatever the Enclave had waiting for them at the entrance of the tunnel.
If Sanford knew anything about combat tactics- he sure as heck knew that this Laslar character, if he was as good as these stories the Deathclaw had heard of said he was- then he would have the Vertibirds just sit out there at each archway and wait for them.
The aircraft were nasty- four gatling laser turrets, missile launcher packs, and one of them had autocannons on its flanks- and there was no telling whatever had fired those rounds to flood the lift chamber with napalm.
This wasn't going to be easy- and Sanford felt his skin crawling from remembering that burn he had suffered- it would figure that the forces of creation would shut him up like that, after all, he was just basically bragging to himself the other day about how he'd never taken a bullet directly.
Now he could proudly say he had never been shot by BULLETS, but by atomically-heated plasma.
Woo-hoo.
Just to give a good idea- that Plasma had been so hot, that it hadn't even fully penetrated the glacis plate of his cuirass- and the temperature inside the torso section of his suit got hot enough to start cooking the interior.
Sanford now had to really worry about potential damage that was inflicted on the suit's body- now he had TWO breaches, and if a round or two smacked about in one of them from the right angle- he was screwed, because the bullet would probably bounce off the padding inside the suit.
In other words, he'd get shredded alive if a few rounds ricocheted inside his armor for a few seconds- the thought wasn't pretty.
"Down there, sir." Hancock indicated a three-way intersection up ahead- he pointed to the right.
"...Uhm... Han', no, I think we need left." Sanford looked at the GPS dot that shown his position on the little holographic map in the corner of his HUD- the entryway was to the left, not to the right.
"No way, sir!" Hancock butted."If we go left we'll go even DEEPER into the tunnel network! And I for one sure as hell don't want to hang around Slap-Happy-Grandpappy' ville anymore! This place SUCKS! And... AND IT SMELLS LIKE MILDEW!"
"...You don't have a nose. You know- RO. BOT?"
"RACIST SON OF A BITCH!"
"-Concentrate! We're going left!"
"-Sir! LOOK. AT. YOUR. MAP! That leads to another dead-end chamber! Are you friggin' blind?!"
"But what are you-"
Sanford looked down at his map again.
...It looked different. Some of the tunnels weren't in the same patterns... The exitway they sought was now... Yeah, now it was a right turn.
"...Han', quit changing the file feed."
"What're you on about?!"
"Stop fooling around with the map."
"I didn't touch anything, you monkey!"
"...Then why'd my map change?"
"What do you mean, Cap'n?"
"...Deathclaw,"
"Monsieur'?" She answered from beside him.
"You feel swimmy at all? Dizzy? Headache?"
"...Non'? Why?"
...Was it possible that, maybe, some kind of chemical leak had gotten into the quarry and it was causing them to see shit?
Because the map was clearly different in its drawn layout not even three seconds ago.
"Alright this really isn't good- Han', you need to map us out of here, I-I think..."
"Sir? What the crap is going on?!"
"...I think whatever is in here is making me see things... I think it's making me, AND you," He pointed to the Deathclaw. "-See things. Han'? Do your toxicity filters pick up anything in the air? A chemical? Toxin?"
"Nothing, sir. Just a whole bunch of God-awful DUST! FRIKKIN' COMMUNIST INDUCED DUST!"
"Let's just get out of here- go right, you said?"
"-AAAHHH-! -Wha'?... Ah! Yep. That was it! Direction of freedom!"
Steel boots, leathery heels, and a single airborne thruster quietly resumed travel down the misty-floored pass- and while Hancock wasn't as much getting the same uncomfortable aura that Sanford, and what could be assumed the Deathclaw as well- the robot was getting more and more of a less jocular attitude towards this trek.
One thing that Hancock tended to do when the situation looked bad, was get quieter, more to the point- he sounded like Sanford a little bit. Keeping it serious, curt.
You know, like a- 'Stop with the theatrics, tell me what needs to get done, right now, and how to do it, and lets do it.' -kind of perspective.
Sanford was unreadable in his expression beneath his helmet- because he was extremely disturbed by this alien tornado of dread that was funneling into his system from a seemingly outside force.
It was terrible- they had been MOCKING the idea of this place being- 'Haunted' -but, it sure seemed like something dark was going on here.
"-Monsieur'? Look." The Deathclaw interrupted his thinking, and also their traveling- she stopped short, and turned unexpectedly towards a corner in the varying block-like degrees of the hall's leftwards wall side.
Sanford fell into stance beside her- looked at her, and she blinked at him, and nodded at what she was aiming for.
"Not ANOTHER dead body!" Hancock groaned. "There's too many of these things here! We need to redecorate this place! Or at least hire a frikkin' janitorial team or two!"
Sanford squinted as his night vision allowed him to take in the details of this figure that was lain on the concrete , back against the blocky wall- it was indeed a dead person. Albeit, not recognizable anymore by a long shot- the body was skeletal, and it had dust on it, if that told you how old it was in a rough sense.
The skeleton's skull was draped with its chin against its right collar bone- the thin arms were laid out on either side of it, and its legs were stuck out in extending protrusions that met the edge of the tunnel's clear center.
If she hadn't noticed it, the skeleton was in the confines of the wall enough, and in enough shadow- that they would've walked right past it.
Still, the presentation got Sanford's attention enough that he didn't just wave it off for them to keep moving- he checked the little map in his corner HUD, took some solace in the fact it hadn't changed again.
"...Hold on..." Sanford bent down lower to the corpse- the servos in his suit gave off the little annoyance of creaking- and his armored rear plating compressed against the back roundness of his armored boots' calves.
There were two things physically ON the body that Sanford took note of- there was a dry magazine- a clip for something small, like a handgun- that was on the ground right by the skeleton's left thigh, and clenched in its boney right hand's fingers, was a yellow rectangular item.
Sanford pinched two metal fingers over the tip of this electronic device- he plucked it free, and the hand rose with the item for an inch before clacking down onto the concrete in dusty rest once more, the fingers now splayed open.
Bringing it closer for inspection- Sanford saw that it was an audio drive- one of those little portable things that had become pretty popular a few years before the bombs dropped- Sanford remembered that you could buy one from a convience store back then for around eight bucks.
He rolled his jaw and stood up- titanium clacking- he held it out for Hancock.
"Tap into this, would ya'?"
"On it, sir!"
Hancock popped open his storage hatch- and dove his claw into it, rummaging around- while Sanford brought the drive closer to his helmet lenses, stuck a finger into the edge of a small panel- he tugged out the loose, rusty screw holding it in place.
"What is that, monsieur'?" The Deathclaw watched as he flicked the brown-colored screw away, and the yellow-colored strip of plastic vanished down in the misty floor.
"Audio recording device," Sanford said- pinching a red wire between two finger tips, and slowly unwinding it to extend from the interior of the device's circuitry innards. "You put them in computers, consoles, or portable units, and they play whatever the user saved on them."
"Does it require power?"
"Only when you want to use it to record sound. I just want to hear what's on it."
Hancock came back with a small black cable in his claw's two pincers- it was torn on the end, and a splindly bush of copper vines splayed from the ragged cap. Sanford held the side of the red cable, and he and Hancock worked to wrap the copper sections of the robot's extension over the device's wire.
"What is that for?" The Deathclaw quizzed.
"Han' can tap into communication waves just by being near them," Sanford chuckled. "We found that he can pick up electronic frequencies by physically touching them with his internal systems."
"...That's too confusing for me, mon ami'."
"Both of ya' shut up and listen!" Hancock snapped. "Ah-HA! There you are you little shit!"
cssshhhhhh
-Static blared from Hancock's vocal emitters lowly, like a small hiss, as he tapped into the device's contents.
SHK
cssssh-
-The static faded away, and Sanford bowed his head to listen to whatever was on the log.
...It was empty.
...Where was the sound? It couldn't just be EMPTY could it?
"God damn it, I was hoping this fellow USED it before he-"
"Monsieur'," She muttered behind him. "Listen."
Sanford squinted at her- than stilled his voice.
...Oh indeed, there was a small sound coming from the feed that Hancock was broadcasting. It sounded wavering- really quiet.
...It sounded like voices, whispering, incomprehensible.
"...Is that talking?" Sanford asked.
"It sounds like it, mon ami'."
"Can you understand what they're saying?"
"Non'."
"Han', is this it?"
The audio file clicked off for a brief cough of static- Hancock started to talk again.
"What'd you expect?! A speech from Hoover?"
"Well how long does that whispering go on for?"
"Exact audio file extension places it at five minutes, sir!"
"And does anything else happen? Any other noises?"
"Nope!"
"...Holy God, there is something so not good here." Sanford looked at the Deathclaw. "-Hey, what happened?"
"I saw that movement again." She mumbled- yellow eyes piercing the blackness just down from where they had come from.
-0-0-0-0-0-
Just a few more turns down the tunnel- the schematic scan showed a large, cylindrical chamber ahead, that was like a big underground silo in shape and look.
The tunnel ended abruptly for a concrete, triangular arch- which, when they passed under, revealed a room that easily was two stories tall- was rounded and extended up to a mechanical cap that domed the chamber's roof.
There was a mechanical crane arm that was affixed to the once rotatable dish at the top- it had gears on each side of two rusty mooring pegs- and the arm itself was crisscrossing X's of steel on a quad extension of thin metal pylons that ended in a large, shiny grabber claw on a steel block end.
The crane was folded upwards against the dish- and all down the tall rounded walls were metal support lattice- and up on the second-story, there was a metal plat that had a rusty bulkhead, sealed, and not reachable to them on the ground.
The concrete floor was littered with wooden shipping palletes, metal crates- and there was another electric work lantern that was lit, and placed on the edge of the chamber, by the second archway that lead closer to their escape.
Sanford looked up at the crane- and then back down at the passage that they had to take, that was placed directly ahead of the ground-level one they had emerged from.
"Calth, again..." The Deathclaw said from his side- she was reading a jumble of large letters that had been spray-painted in white on the concrete wall just next to the arch they had come from- the letters were runny, with white arteries drawing down towards the floor from their main girths.
It read- 'CALTH' -and below that, there were a few inscriptions that had been written in marker or something small like that- they were black, and most were blurred so much you couldn't read them. Ironically, the ones that Sanford WAS able to read, read- 'No' -and- 'Fuck you!'
What was this 'Calth' figure that was all over the place in this dump?
Was it a chemical? A machine? A person?
Was it whatever was causing some of the hallucinations he and the Deathclaw were seeing? Were they even hallucinations to begin with?
"What the hell?" Sanford was cursing to himself as they went into the next arch into the next tunnel. "...Han', how far?"
"There should be a winding passage, one turn, and then a ramp leading up to a surface chamber! Hoo-rah! FREEDOM!" Hancock cheered. "I can already taste the victory ale!"
"Monsieur'," The Deathclaw asked. "How exactly does a quarry extract stone from a place like this? It looks more like they just made random tunnels through it."
"...Well I'd imagine before the bombs dropped that the tunnels were just to probe around to find rock veins, and when they found them, they expanded that crater we entered to reach and dig them up. They didn't do most of the digging IN the actual tunnels."
"I thought that was the purpose of the tunnels though?"
"Not with some of the newer digging technology they were making just before the war." Sanford shook his head. "I'm talking about single drills that could unearth a mile or two of land by themselves."
"Do you think this company was using the qaurry for something else?"
"They obviously were!" Sanford laughed sarcastically. "That, or they dug some shit up and their guys had a fit over it."
"Maybe it's a combination of the two."
"You're probably right. I think Haven had them dig in this spot, and told them it was for one thing, but there was something ELSE they didn't mention... Jesus, it's Vault Tec all over again."
"What do you mean?"
"Vault Tec had some sick people running it. They experimented with their own populations- that's why so many Vaults are opened and the people inside have already been long dead."
"What kind of experiments, monsieur'?"
"...Can we... Talk about this when we're NOT in a place strikingly similar?"
"...Mm. Yes." She agreed- looking away. "Apologies."
"Hancock, where are we?"
"Sir, you have this funny little contraption in the corner of your physical vision... You wanna' know what it's called? Do ya'?" Hancock floated closer, and jammed the tip of his claw off Sanford's shoulder with a small- PJK -"-It's called... A FREAKING MAP! You know?! SOMETHING THAT'S DRAWN TO ACCURATELY REPRESENT A MAN-MADE STRUCTURE?! HUH?!"
"...Hancock,"
"WHAT?!"
"Shut the fuck up."
"...Huh, I was right, you ARE stupid!"
"Damned, loud-mouthed, rusty, rambling coffee-machine..."
"HEY! YOU BIGOT-LICKING, LIZARD-SUCKING SON OF A-" PMM clctclctlctl- "-MAN DOWN! MEDIC!"
Sanford smiled fully as they passed through the triangle arch- and Hancock was left behind in a clatter on the floor in the dark way behind them as he flew right into the frame's side- too busy screaming his emitters off to pay attention to his flight path.
The chamber was pretty big- rectangular, stone walls with steel lattice supports- but what had Sanford's interest piqued, was the white chalk markings that ran in gridded lines into the center of the chamber, and then branched into three slot-like marks.
Sanford looked up, and saw one of these painted parking spaces in the middle of the large room, taken by the rusting hulk of an old pre-War truck- a tractor trailer, with only one trailer, a vacant flatbed. It was a yellow-painted vehicle- reading- 'HAVEN CORPS' -on the righthand passenger door.
The rounded, bulky vehicle looked beautiful to him- because right behind it, was a near six-lane wide concrete ramp, that rose towards a big, bright light at its top.
They had found their exit- and the best part was, that Sanford didn't hear any rotary blades in the backdrop.
They could make a run for it.
"...Oh, Hancock, you brilliant dumbass." Sanford chuckled.
"Dieu' Merci'..." The Deathclaw muttered in praise.
"We're home free! C'mon, Han'! Let's run!"
"COMING, SIR!"
Sanford's boots thudded against the rock, the Deathclaw right beside him- and fluttering out from the confines of the arch in the backdrop- the drab-colored, rounded shot out, and levitated in line right behind them like a bullet.
The light was stinging against his dark-adjusted eyes- but the second Sanford saw a white cloud stringing in the blue sky up through that rectangular port- he smiled wider than he had in the whole week.
Victory. He could already taste the ale he didn't have back at home, like Han' had said.
vmmmvmmclmclmcCLMCLMCLMCLMCLMCLM
CMMMMVMM
-...Yeah.
And then a mother-fuckin' Vertibird flew right in front of that puffy, nice little cloud.
The cockpit presented- the propellers were screaming and balancing thrusters were lighting beneath the craft's wings- Sanford heard clacking of safeties being pulled down the frames of weapons, the hum of charging batteries.
He darted his head down from where he had been looking- and just noticing the party for the first time, as they had just stepped over the concrete raise in the mouth of the ramp up ahead- was a cluster of like ten or so Enclave soldiers.
-And guess which one was standing in the middle of the crowd?
"Target sighted! Kill him!"
CLAKCALCKLCKLAKCLCLAKLACLKALCKLK
-Plasma fire was tossed everywhere, and before Sanford could even process it for himself- his armored limbs were arcing, boots stamping away- he sprinted like a character in a cartoon did when one of those comedic running scenes happened on the screen.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" Sanford belted between foot-falls. "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!"
"I ALWAYS KNEW I'D RUST AWAY TO INSIGNIFICANCE IN A MAIN PLOT LINE INSIDE A QUARRY!" Hancock joined him in the screaming- flying by with his faster thruster.
"I HATE ALL OF YOU!" The Deathclaw commented loudly- her tail swinging in great sweeps as she ran on all fours- her palms splaying with each bound.
They vanished back into the same arch they had emerged from so close to escape- green bolts ate into the concrete everywhere- flinging debris, breathing trails of luminescent, green fallout.
-Back in the group of soldiers, Laslar Seduun cursed loudly, and ran straight past his entire formation, and vanished into the darkness of the tunnels after his game.
The Enclave warriors looked at each other with discertainty for a good moment- before they all ran with weapons in dual-grasps over their beltlines, to trail single-file through the triangular archway after their leader.
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