CHAPTER 41
This is just one step, on a long road.
For all Sanford knew, Corporal Brody and every single one of his fellows were dead by the time he was able to reorganize himself for an offensive.
The combination of the mortar shell, and whatever the Gunners were using to chew up the second floor probably had rendered most if not all of the Minutemen either dead or wounded- as there wasn't a shot coming from the carpenter shop anymore.
Sanford and the Deathclaw were relatively safe from potential fire in the little underworld established in the intersecting alleys of all the shops to the west- they were able to see out into the plaza, the ruined carpenter shop down at one end, that street the Gunners had emerged from down at the other.
There was a tall arm of soot trailing from the top of the building Hancock had been on- Sanford, in his worry- checked his scans, and found that his robot's signature was still active, so, that at least cut off his dread for Han's possible demise.
The Sentry-Bot was wheeling away from the store it had hit earlier- the Gunners were smart, as they had the mounted weapon keep focus on the second floor of the building, and the robot watch towards the center and flanks of the plaza behind them.
Sanford was able to see that the mounted weapon was on some sort of custom-built drivetrain, like something you would see an old anti-tank gun on from even before the Great War- a tripod was built into the top, and on it was a .50 caliber machinegun.
Now they had a cluster of Gunner infantry to still deal with, a heavy military robot, AND a heavy weapon.
Great. Really great.
Plus, who knew where that mortar from earlier was? Sanford had to guess there was a team nearby with it setup on a vantage point- or maybe the team had used all their rounds and had meshed in with the infantry they were currently fighing.
Sanford was playing it safe- it was better to assume the Gunners still had the mortar active somewhere in the backdrop, which meant that after, and if, they could find a way to deal with the Sentry-Bot and the soldiers here, they would have to fan out and search for the mortar.
"PRIMARY TARGETS LOST. BEGIN SWEEP?"
-The Sentry-Bot's voice rebounded down faintly throughout the plaza.
"How should we proceed, mon ami'? You're closer to a soldier than me." The Deathclaw asked, hunched behind him.
"Hancock's still active," Sanford noted. "So that means he can tie into whatever we come up with."
The .50 caliber roared in the backdrop, for a quick burst- it made Sanford flinch.
"We have to assume somebody is still alive in there..."
"I'll fight for that, monsieur'."
"Good. Lemme' see if I can get ahold of Han'... Hancock? You there? Han'?"
"...WOO! That was- SPICY!"
"-What happened?"
"Big-Drab-and-Ugly hit me with rockets!"
"It has a missile pod?"
"Roger that, Red-Rooster!"
"The damned Gunners always get their fuckin' dirty hands on these things..." Sanford glanced at the Deathclaw. "Are you damaged?"
"More scratches to mull my beautiful hide!"
"Good. Here's the plan- Deathclaw, me and Han' are going to fire on the guys and the robot, you, are gonna' sprint," He aimed a hand at the plaza's midsection. "-You're gonna' sprint right across the plaza, get into the alleys on the other side, wait there for my word."
"You'll... 'Cover' me?" She asked- finding the terminology strange on her tongue.
"Yep. When I say go," He nodded. "RUN. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Are you sure?"
"Merde- YES, I'm sure, let's do this."
"Here we go, Han'... GO."
Sanford slid out from the corner, he stood halfway on the sidewalk, and started firing a full burst of beams from his rifle- he swayed the gun back and forth slowly, creating a sweep for his munitions.
Green bolts shot out from the smoke on the rooftop right beside the Gunners' angle- the Deathclaw was halfway across the plaza, sprinting, on all fours- tail swinging behind her. She was a dark-colored blur across the pavement- she vanished in the shadows of one of the alleys right as a few rounds clipped into the brickwork at the entrance mouth.
The Sentry-Bot didn't even bother to fire on the position of the reptile- it aimed both arms towards Sanford's stance- and all the way from down the plaza, Sanford saw a tidal wave of rounds flying for him for a brief second.
CCHHHSSSSMMMMMMMM
-Compressed to the bricks of the wall, Sanford actually found agitation eating away at him as he changed the battery coil with a few deft hand motions by the rifle's side.
In all the years that Sanford had scoured the Commonwealth, he had killed his fair share of Gunner members- and the group had a healthy hatred, and a price, for him for that exact reason. Out of all the fights he had engaged in with their forces- he could only remember one or two where it got this bad.
They probably didn't know it was him- after all, the Power Armor was a recent development- they probably thought they were dealing with some random Wastelander who had nice toys.
Sanford though, was aware some of the higher ranking Gunners knew his very voice, and that was because they had survived a few engagements with him- so far, Sanford hadn't seen anybody who looked important, but he was keeping higher caution because of it anyway.
That caution was what made it harder for him to just attack the Sentry-Bot- it was what had kept him alive for long, being- 'Wimpy'- as Hancock termed it one time in the past.
"I'd rather be wimpy and win my fights, then be stupid and dead." Sanford responded.
Truer words... Huh.
-sshhhHHHMMM
-Sanford flinched.
He knew THAT sound.
Right before he could clear away from the corner- the entire wall he compressed to shot outwards- the whole structure belching forwards like a tsunami of flailing bricks, chunks of concrete, and ragged strips of steel from burnt support girders.
Sanford went airborne from the smoke-clouding explosion- the burst had enough force to send the suit off its boot heels, and all the while, stumbling forwards with waving arms, bricks and other rubble clattering off his steel-covered body- Sanford landed on one boot, and then fell forwards.
PNK!
-"AGH-!"
PMMM-
clmclcmclcmclmclcm...
-He ate the wall on the other side of the alley, fell-face first on the dirt ground, and then was buried in a residual heap of bricks and concrete.
Lying down there with his helm's lenses being invaded by the grainy, black texture of the soil- Sanford blasted out a held in breath, and sat under the mess of blocky rubble strewn around him and over his back and legs.
His arms extended ahead of him- he groaned, shifted, and bricks tumbled down all over him.
"...Holy shit..." He hissed- blinking rapidly from the shock. "...God damn..."
Standing, the suit made a few creaks and shutters- bricks and rocks fell in a slow cascade all down his form, dust slithered from all the joints and rinds. Bending down, he slapped a few bricks out of the way, grabbed up his gun.
He started to try and step through the rubble as quick as he could- he aimed for deeper into the alley- he wavered in his stance, eyes narrowed even though they were protected beneath the helmet.
CCCHSSSSMMMMM
-The wall on the other side of him, the crater blown into the corner of the building he had been hiding behind- all were sprayed with 5'mm bullets. Sparks kicked off Sanford's arm and his cuirass- he leapt out of the mounded bricks and moved forwards in a run.
His feet landed hard enough that he was able to rush through the heavy debris- the armor saved him from the rounds that hit home.
Moving deeper into the alleyways, Sanford's only thoughts were memorizations of how the Gunners were positioned, what they had, where the Sentry-Bot was and where the .50 was- through the recovering shell-shock, he started to try and formulate cognitive strategy building.
He hid in the lanes intersecting the buildings- the grumble of the Sentry-Bot's motor echoed across the plaza- unknown to him, the Plasma fire that rebounded out was actually effective on Hancock's end.
"-EAT THIS G.I- WANNABE'S!"
CLAKCLAKCLAK
-Hancock peppered the infantry hanging close to the robotic pre-War era menace- he saw four people at the Sentry-Bot's rear- the fire sent two down with green energy trailing from zones of impact.
Immediately, 5'mm fire clipped all over the place- Hancock didn't take chances this time.
"REETTTRREAAATTTT!"
-His thruster worked on overtime, and before the knew what was happening- he realized that he had catapulted himself straight over the guard trim on the other side of the roof, and he was hurtling for street level.
"-AAGH! OH-CRAPONASTICK- MAYDAY! MAYDAY-! MAY-FUCKIN'-DAY-! I'M GOIN' DOWN-"
-Sanford jerked his head up, and saw a flailing shadow against the sunlit blue sky.
He cursed, dropped his gun, stepped forwards, and Hancock landed in a discombobulated pile right in his gauntlets.
CLKCLCKL!
-"WAH!-OH... Woah... Uhm..." Hancock's ocu-lenses raised- and Sanford stood holding his robot bridal-style over the dirt of the alley, all of the mechanical limbs draping down past his left arm. "...My HERO!" -Hancock finished after a moment.
Sanford blinked, sneered, and parted his arms either way.
CLlcklckclckclknm...
-The sound of a bag of tin-cans hitting the floor.
Nice.
"...Anyone who ever loved you... WAS WRONG!" Hancock barked from the ground.
"Get up, you freak- we have Gunners' to kill."
"DILIGENCE!"
-0-0-0-0-0-
Despite driving the Minutemen out of the building, despite killing so many of them- the Gunner soldiers were about ready for a fallback- and by this point, they WOULD have tried to run, if they weren't so freaked out by the fact they couldn't tell where all their assailants were.
After all, there had been a few of their fellows screaming their heads off about a monster- and now, they were being cut down by some guy in an exo' suit, and a robot that liked screaming anti-Communist slurs at them- the Gunners were, basically, freaked out by this enemy.
So behind the Sentry-Bot the last two members of the deceased Sergeant Holligan's squad kept their stances- relying on the robot for support and cover- and the two operators behind the .50 caliber were busy picking up the support struts on either side of the welded drivetrain.
They tugged the gun in a 360', spiraled it to face away from the carpenter shop, and point past the flank of the Sentry-Bot.
They dragged the struts to splay out from each other again, and the loader was just sliding the spare ammunition belt from off her shoulders- when in the blink of an eye, a six-foot tall, scaly, screaming, wicked-sharp-claw bandishing horror shot out from one of the alleys right behind them.
The two soldiers didn't even get an opportunity to scream- the Deathclaw brought her fingers in a sideways slash, and the loader catapulted over the left strut and wheel of the mounting- a globular trail of crimson forming a path through the very air she sailed through.
The last guy drew a handgun- and that flicked out of his grasp when the Deathclaw gripped him by the waist- her large hand allowing her fingers to wrap over his entire pelvis- she dragged him forwards, slammed him as hard she could on the street between her feet.
The man hollered- his screams jolting with each rough movement she made- she rose her heel, and stomped it down right on his face.
PPWWKKkkk...
-It looked like someone took a red egg and threw it on the street, and then it hit on an angle- the blood flew in a diagonal spray across the pavement, it flecked on the .50 and the wheels of the drivetrain.
The Deathclaw heaved angrily, she lifted her foot and sneered at the pancaked interior of the man's head- not even recognizable.
Backing away, she looked upwards, past the rear of the large machinegun-
CSHM-CSHM
-She saw the huge Sentry-Bot. It stopped advancing towards Sanford- its hips made a whining creak as the robot spiraled its torso completely around on the rovolving mount connecting it to its wheeled suspension.
The two miniguns rose, and spiraled- all the Deathclaw did was swallow, and stand taller against her better judgement- her back arched, she panicked.
"NO! No-no! NO!"
PMPMPMPMP
-A cluster of crimson beams lashed out and slapped into the rear portions of the Sentry-Bot's body- there were sparks, flecks of flame as one of the bolts penetrated the weaker armor there.
The robot made a metallic, lumbering groan, and it jerked forwards on screaming wheels. Green blobs of plasma lashed out- and the two Gunners on either side of it fell on the pavement.
"SYSTEM COMPROMISED. TARGETING PARAMETERS- MALFUNCTION."
-BMMM
-The robot tried to turn back around, but a pluming burst of flame and soot, rocked it again- and the robot screeched on the pavement of the plaza as the explosion centered from a tear in its frontal glacis- the damage was so hot, that the trench in its armor was glowing amber.
The Deathclaw took the opportunity to start and run back towards the alleys- the things that had saved her and Sanford throughout the whole fight- but she was rooted there, with the dead .50 operators behind the drivetrain- when she saw Sanford sprint at the robot.
He broke cover, ran out into the plaza, and ran TOWARDS, the Sentry-Bot.
He was out of his collective mind.
"SANFORD!" She belted. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
Sanford had his rifle by his side- he had a gauntlet curling over his shoulder- and when his arms steadied over his breast, he held the one weapon that had solved their big-ugly-and-tough problems twice.
The Nukalizer.
"TAKE THIS, YOU BASTARD!" Sanford stopped a few feet away- he cranked the barrels of the gun, it bleeped in confirmation- he aimed it from the hip.
All hell broke loose.
fffFFWW-FFFMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
-The blinding cone of energy purely ripped from the sun itself shot out and bathed the Sentry-Bot in such a complete covering of destructive fire, that the robot merely looked like a black shadow in the blue light.
Pieces of the robot were tossed off of its chassis- the armor boiled away, systems malfunctioned and entire chunks of internal workings were incinerated.
The robot was done.
Or at least, that's what Sanford thought.
-FFFFFMMMMMMM-WWHhm-!
ftt
-All at once, the blue ceased, the roar of a passenger jet stopped, and Sanford was able to open his eyes without disturbance.
The Nukalizer made a whining noise, and then a tiny cough.
Soot plumed once out of the three barrels- and the electronic panel gave off a convenient- BEEP. BEEP.
Sanford blinked- he looked up.
The Sentry-Bot was still active.
Both of its miniguns had been exposed to such extreme heat, that the barrels had melted shut, the bullet feeds had warped, the ammunition tanks had exploded- the robot itself was in such a state of disrepair that even if it DID get off the field the Gunners would have had to have scrapped it anyway.
It looked like a flailing titan made of scorched, twisted metal- sparks were belching all over its joints, torso and melted gorget plate- a fire was brewing from its rear paneling, and black smoke was coughing up from the entire thing up into the air.
The robot made horrible creaks, shrieks and metallic clatterings- its arms rose and then fell as it failed to aim its useless guns at the scavenger.
Sanford looked down at the Nukalizer- and shook it in his grasp, like a child rattled a wrapped Christmas present.
"...No...No...NO-NO-NO! What the-?! -What the fuck?! What the-?"
He turned the gun to look at its top- and immediately, he heard the clink of a glass bottle slide out of the feed, and bounce off the toe of his boot.
He looked down.
The Nuka-Cola Quantum bottle was bone-dry, and there was even some steam leaving the top- it rolled on the pavement, and settled on two of its fin-protrusions a few inches away from him.
Sanford blinked.
Out of 'Ammo'. Huh.
Guess he didn't think of that.
"Son of a fuckin' bitch, I am an IDIOT."
vvvvvVVHHM
-The Sentry-Bot shot forwards- the three black wheels screeching against the pavement- its internal systems roaring and rattling as they gave off their last few functions.
Blinding light was cascading from every joint and gash torn into its hide- the red bulbs in what was left of its little rounded head were now flashing, like lights on an emergency vehicle.
The robot excellerated towards him- leaned forwards precariously in its wanton travel as its revolving mount melted inside its own chassis- like a candle tower slouching from heat.
The Sentry-Bot's core was going critical. A suicide attack. Damn military designs.
"ooOOOOOOHHH SHIITTTTT-!"
Sanford held the Nukalizer one handed- and SPRINTED, in the other direction of the robot's hell-drive.
"MONSIEUR'! THE ALLEYS!" The Deathclaw called out to him. "GET IN THE ALLEYS!"
Sanford's legs arced back and forth, his arms pumped on either side- he left cracks in the pavement as his boots stomped down repeatedly- the robot was close behind- leaving a trail of soot in the air it passed through.
"HANCOCK! HANCOCK COME'HERE!" Sanford screamed.
The had just been flying out of the alley after him- and now, he saw his friend running towards HIM, and a flaming Sentry-Bot with flashing lights all over it giving close chase.
Hancock was momentarily stupefied.
"HE'S GONNA' BLOW!" Hancock cried- he was still screaming even when Sanford snatched him out of the air, and ran with the robot hoisted over his shoulder pauldron. "-IT'S THE HINDENBURG ALL OVER AGAIN! OH- THE HUMANITY!"
"SHUT UP! JUST- SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Sanford, with Han' flailing over his shoulder- vanished into the ruined alley.
CLNK-CLN
-The Sentry-Bot didn't fit into the aisle after him- its scorched, twisted shoulders both bumped on opposite ends of the brick corners.
The Deathclaw, from her distance, winced.
BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
-A mushroom cloud of roiling flame, glowing amber, fire burning so hot it was white- propelled up into the air for almost a whole story. It towered over the stores on either side of it, and the Deathclaw's face was highlighted amber even though she wasn't anywhere near it.
The flame eventually was replaced by a shadow of balling soot- the mushroom cloud reduced in height, and when the flames finally mitigated to hugging the pile of cinders that once WAS the robotic menace, bricks and pieces of concrete formed finality and rained down in controlled clusters.
Both buildings on either side now each had a blackened hole the size of a truck in them.
The volume of the burst still echoed in the backdrop even though the initial boom was done.
The Deathclaw stood straight up, and looked at the flaming debris down the plaza with horror.
"SANFORD! Monsieur'! MONSIEUR'!" She hopped right over the .50 mount, sprinted for the flames, and only stopped when the heat prevented her from jumping into the broiling mess after her friend.
The pavement was pitch black- flames were everywhere, and they centered around a boiling pile of molten steel that was the Sentry-Bot's chassis- the three wheel-struts splayed on all sides, facing upwards where their midsection had indented and melted.
The Deathclaw angled her head about- she squinted into fires.
"M-MONSIEUR'!" She called again. "COME OUT! Monsieur'! Sanford..."
She draped her arms.
...Nothing.
Nothing but the crackling of flame.
She stepped back from the edge of the glowing fire.
"...Monsiuer'..." She muttered. "...Not again..."
...That couldn't just be it... He couldn't have... DIED, because of a robot, not... Not like that.
Sanford had been through it all, she may not have SEEN it all with him- but... But he HAD to have been through hell and back, how would he still be alive? Be who he was?
The longer she gazed at the flames, the harder it was for her to keep moisture from leaving her eyes.
...It just couldn't be it...
This wasn't right.
"-WOO! Hey! I even found Diesel-Licker's head!"
The Deathclaw spun around to the left.
Emerging from around the left building's other side, by the front window- was the levitating form of the very robot she had grown to absolutely despise over the last few weeks- and he was prancing around, with a chunk of sparking metal in his claw's grip.
-She squinted, and saw it was a piece of the Sentry-Bot's squat, rounded head.
"He's making a break for it! He's near the endzone! THE STEELERS ARE CATCHING UP TO HIM- BUT NO- NO HE'S- HE'S-" Hancock threw the chunk down, and it bounced off the pavement. "-TOUCHDOOOWNNN! HA-HA! Yeah! Yeah-HA! WOO! I demand rights to all the NFL's bitches! HA!"
"...Hey, I liked the Steelers," Sanford chuckled as he came up behind him. "Pretty sure the NFL didn't have a registry of- 'Bitches'."
"Well they oughtta'!"
"MONSIEUR'!"
Sanford didn't even have time to look up before two claws were clenched over his shoulder pauldrons, and jamming him back so the Deathclaw to see him face to face.
He blinked stupidly, reached up and maneuvered over her wrists, took off his helmet with a decoupling hiss.
The Deathclaw had small trails of dampness running down her elongated face, and Sanford noticed, so he smiled at her.
"-I-I'm alright, girl." He said. "I'm alright."
"Oh, monsieur', I could just- OOO- you-IDIOT!" The Deathclaw leant down and compressed her horns, her forehead as far as she could into his face.
Sanford sputtered into her scales, froze, and waited patiently in the warmed contact for her to have her moment and be done with it- though, he honestly wasn't complaining about the contact, it just felt... Weird, he hadn't been touched on the face in... He didn't remember how long.
She sat back and smiled toothily at him.
Sanford blinked a few times, and smiled back.
The Deathclaw suddenly frowned, looked quite angry, brought her bunched finger up, and literally flicked the blunt of her nail into his forehead.
PNK
-"OW-! Hey! What the hell?!" He flinched, closing in eye at the sting.
"Don't EVER, do that again, monsieur', comprenez' vous'!"
"-I couldn't let it turn you into Swiss-cheese!"
"NEVER. AGAIN."
"Or else what? You'll BEAT ME UP, huh-?" PNK "-OUCH! Stop that!"
"Never, EVER, AGAIN."
"Jeez'-! Take it down a notc-" PNK "-OOoooOOW! C'mon!"
"-Hey?! Where's my ceremonial face-horning?!" Hancock snapped from beside them. "Hello?! Hello? ...Aw... Aw aren't you two just ADORABLE? Right? NOT. You all disgust me!"
-0-0-0-0-0-
The plaza was hauntingly silent after the last hoo-rah of the Sentry-Bot.
All in the span of a few minutes, Sanford had taken yet more life from yet more fellow human beings- and even though on the outside, he was grinning, and joining in with mocking commentary from Hancock- his mind was haunted with the burnt-in picture of the young man he had shot.
Sanford had asked about what the Deathclaw thought, of his inability to remember all the faces of those he had killed, back when they jumped the Mutant camp- and he remembered, of his own LACK of memory, and he wished more and more for that guy's face to leave as all the others before it.
He had no problem admitting to himself that it bothered him sometimes, and sometimes it didn't- you know, killing people.
There was a certain degree of 'Getting used too it'- as hard and, horrible as that was to comprehend... But, only so much. Sanford knew every person in his kind of situation dealt with it differently- some peple had horrible nightmares, or relived portions of the trauma during the day, and some just curled in on themselves and withered way, unable to comprehend their own actions.
-Sanford certainly had experienced nightmares about some of the instances, but, those always stopped after a few days usually, it was the dream about the nuke that still persisted, as it had for years. He never really... RELIVED, some of the things, he just sometimes... He didn't know- he SAW things, and it would just remind him of it, kind of.
Sanford was no medical professional, and certainly wasn't about to start talking out his ass on understanding the human mind, or even his own mind in perfect clarity... But the stress of his daily life, the things he had done, they scarred him, and they would stay there until he finally met his end.
Sanford had hopes of what many people wanted for that last hour- he wanted to die quietly, in his sleep, an old man, surrounded by people who cared for him... Even if that had only meant a robot, that probably would've been lost without him afterwards.
He had resigned himself to the obviousness that it was unlikely he would get to such an old age, that was it unlikely he would be surrounded by people who cared for him... And Sanford had kept the idea of death in the back of his mind for so long because of this.
That was another reason why seeing some of the things he did disturbed him so much- they reminded him of his own death, and how he didn't understand what it meant, and the uncertainty surrounding it.
So much uncertainty...
So many 'If's.
He had been blabbering to himself about that weeks ago, when he had been searching for the APC that would literally turn his life in the Wasteland around.
If he could find food.
If he could find ammunition.
If he could defend himself.
...If, he could ever find someone who gave a shit about him. -At least there, before the Deathclaw, he had Han'.
If he would live to see tomorrow.
If he actually did run into something he could escape from... IF what? What happened then? Would it be quick? Would it hurt?
Would he end up howling like an animal on the ground?
...IF, he ended up like that Gunner.
Sanford actually managed to find his corpse among all the dead in the plaza's left flank- there was blood everywhere, burnt bodies, PIECES of burnt bodies orbiting around them... Sanford stood in the daylight, hanging over the outskirts of the row of dead.
He saw the Gunner boy he had killed- he was still there, obviously- eyes now closed, mouth a clenched line of straightness- his blood formed a pool underneath him, and it turned his uniform scab-colored wherever it soaked up.
Most of the corpses that still had recognizable faces, their expressions- were blank, eyes shut, sometimes open or lidded.
Most of them had been dead before they could really understand what was happening- that kind of made Sanford feel a bit better about it, that it was quick, even if they were who they were.
He noted about the young man, that his severed arm was nowhere to be found- as even all the severed limbs from the other corpses were pretty easily traceable to what came from who. Sanford reasoned it had probably been incinerated by the carbon molecules of his gun.
He looked at the body a little more, and then he just snapped himself out of it- all at once. He didn't want to linger anymore.
"They're gone." The Deathclaw grumbled from behind him- she stood there as he turned around, her yellow eyes narrowed in agitation- as they had checked around and in the windows of the carpenter shop, and all that was present were Minutemen bodies.
They hadn't gone inside- as when they started to try and push the door open, a portion of the second floor collapsed and flooded-out the lobby- Sanford didn't think it was good idea for him in the suit, or the Deathclaw's weight, to be tested in the unstable structure.
The Minutemen had gotten their help, and the survivors had just run away.
Really fuckin' nice. Sanford knew Jim was with them, and so was that Roe character- every body they had seen inside, even the ones in pieces that fell from the second floor- were NOT, either of them.
"We fight their war, and out they go," Sanford shook his head, standing in the middle of the street, looking down the way the Gunners had come from. "What the fuck."
"-Who cares?! We got to kick-ass! Major degree ASS, man! Hoo-rah!" Hancock boasted- floating beside his friend, he cuffed Sanford's pauldron with his claw- clk -and swayed back and forth in a little aerial jig. "-U.S.A! U.S.A!"
"The U.S.A. is a pile of cinders, man..." Sanford sighed. "Give it a rest."
"You just ENJOY shitting on the party table DON'T YOU?!"
"Yep."
"PARTY POOPER! Ha-ha! HA! Get it?! 'Cause you shit on the party table? HA!"
"...Jesus, Han'." Sanford chuckled. "What's wrong with you?"
"I suppose I could make a full comprehensive list, sir!"
"It would take two lifetimes to read that whole list."
"Bah! What do you know?"
"...I wonder where the rest of them went..." Sanford rolled his jaw, leaning fists on his armored hips. "We didn't kill all of them, after all."
"It certainly appears that we did, though," The Deathclaw stated from his other side- the three of them gazed to the plaza's northern end. "...What was this 'Mortar' weapon from before?"
"It's the mortar, and whoever ran when we wiped out the plaza," Sanford said. "There are a few people that aren't dead here... some of the infantry probably took off."
"Welp'! I suppose until we meet them again... They'll just have to WAIT to have their balls cut off! Ha-ha!" Hancock snapped. "Let's go home, people!"
"No." Sanford shook his head. "No I want to chase them."
"Monsieur'?" The Deathclaw sighed. "We won, the militia got away, isn't that enough?"
"No." He parroted. "Brody said they had a man on the inside, and that he was in a facility not too far from here... Those Gunners weren't just happening by here to attack the Minutemen, I think they're under a contract with whoever owns that facility, hell, maybe THEY own it."
"And lemme' guess," Hancock rolled his ocu-lenses. "We're gonna' charge them heroically, kick MORE ass, and find out?"
"'Bout right." Sanford smiled. "You both don't have to come with me-"
"Laughable." The Deathclaw sighed. "Lead the way, mon ami'."
"ONWARDS! In the name of Democracy! And- UNDERWEAR!" Hancock proclaimed. "WE SHALL FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT! Fuck the leftists! Fuck the rightists! We're going with- THE HAN'ISTS!"
"You fell out of a hardware truck, and you're trying to be a warlord," Sanford dismissed, holding his rifle, trotting forwards. "It's amazing."
"And, STYLISH!"
"No wonder the two of you are so excentrique'," The Deathclaw mused. "You've been like this to each other for how long?"
"Ten or so years." Sanford shrugged. "Ten or so years and no regrets."
-0-0-0-0-0-