Everything was too dead here.
Shriveled up, sickly, covered in dust. Everything had been white, manufactured and artificial at the Institute. But up here what was natural would get you killed.
X6-88 stood next to me, both of us standing at an angle so that we could look out of the window but remain relatively unseen below. Not that anyone or anything down there would bother to look. The Raiders were too busy dealing with the Deathclaw that was ravaging the camp.
"It's picked up on the scent of its child, it should wrap things up quickly from here." X6-88 said as the Mother Deathclaw let out a piercing shriek.
"There is a raider on the inside with a rocket launcher. They only have two rockets, it looks like they are going to try and shoot at the Mother when it goes inside." I responded as I just watched in bright swatches of heat. I was not a fan of the normal yellow and brown undertone of the crumbling wasteland.
"That must be the Chief. Their leaders tend not to be the smartest but the brutish." X6-88 quipped as an explosion of shrapnel rocked the nearby building. There was a slight rumble as that section collapsed upon the second fiery rocket. The Deathclaw gave more of an annoyed howl as it dug itself out of the rubble merely seconds after the dust began to swirl, resilient to most of the damage save a few cuts and bruises.
Its baby was running around rapidly in the pen the Raiders had constructed surprisingly well. There was a coil around its neck with a broken chain, the baby shook around violently to get rid of it. It let out a cry as the Mother approached and began to pull at the debris.
The Deathclaws cooed at each other upon their reunion. In a matter of seven minutes, a lone Mother Deathclaw had managed to completely rip apart a hovel of nearly fifteen raiders. I thought they were going to leave then, run back to their nest in the more barren parts of the wastes, but instead, the Mother drug the nearest body towards them and they set about consuming.
"What is going on in there?" X6-88 asked as he must have seen the look on my face.
"They're eating the bodies." I said in a daze.
"Oh, that's expected. They prefer brahmin. We'll be waiting for a bit longer, the Synth has not fled yet. I hope the remain still and the Deathclaw does not pick up on its-"
The Synth must have heard it go so suddenly quiet, because they crawled out from its hiding spot and made a loud run for it, through a puddle and everything. I just gave X6 a side smirk as he let out a quick, irritated exhale of air.
It is interesting, what fear has made me do.
Silence had fallen over the squadron. Breaking apart to creep through the shadowy ruins, radio traffic was dead, just static in the ears.
I secured the route ahead of me, kept to the corners and rifle at the ready. Mentally, I could picture the schematics I had been staring at for the weeks leading up to this. The armory was on this floor, with the t-shaped hallway.
"Stairwells secure."
I glanced at the Knight who was following up on the rear and nodded.
"Resource located."
We fell on either side of the door. A shadow momentarily fell across the glass.
In that moment, there was not a single sound, only silence. I crouched to my knees as I reached inside my side pack. The Knight slowly backed up from the wall, faced the door, kicked it open. I threw the smoke grenades, lobbed them one after the other, inside as hard and fast as I could.
The Knight in full armor with his men advanced into the room in one precise motion. The pop, pop, pop of their fire lasted in a constant stream. The commands over the radio were quick, orderly to prevent the creeping panic.
My breath in and out through the respirator was quiet as I darted in through the rear. Steam from the fizzling smoke smoldered on my goggles as I dove for cover from the messy fire. Bullets flew past me, exploded against the concrete.
These details, they come and go with the memory. Some things more vivid than others.
At the time, I could hardly move, couldn't even breathe. Even as I returned fire I felt the overwhelming sensation grip me, flush my skin paper white. But even then, I had been so careless. Emboldened in the face of death.
The Knight had been the boldest of them all. How he commanded the unit. Stood there in the aftermath, heroic and resilient.
The steel had been cold and heavy on my shoulders.
I had been afraid then of dying. That is what struck me the most. It could not leave me.
Looking back, there was no need for such a fear. A conclusion I had already come to once before.
The Knight removed their helmet and it fell to the ground.
But what did I have to fear now that I was untouchable?