Chapter Nine
Monsters of Men
Nora sat bolt upright with a gasp, sweat plastering her hair to her skin. She could hear the low moaning of the wind, and somewhere in the heavens, the distorted booming of a radstorm. A faint flash of eerie green light illuminated the room, piercing through the rag that covered the window, momentarily revealing the silhouettes of her companions in their sleeping bags.
She swallowed, raising her hands to her face. Her eyes were itching with tiredness, but she couldn't face going to sleep again, not when only nightmares awaited her. The booming echoed again, louder this time, the wind picking up in strength. She shivered as a cold draught whistled through the wall beside her, prompting her to rub her arms. The first time she had seen a radstorm, she had found it to have a terrifying beauty, the appeal quickly wearing off when an exasperated Preston had pulled her into the nearest shelter, explaining that the storms could result in severe radiation sickness.
There came another flash of light, brighter than the one before, painting everything a sickly green. Her pip-boy crackled loudly and she watched as the needle on the Geiger counter swept sharply upwards, before returning to a low count, dancing between 1 and 3. It would be a bad night to be out, unless you were a ghoul or a deathclaw. The booming that followed was enough to make the shack tremble, and she heard Burke whimper in his sleep. Gradually, the darkness began to fade as the noxious clouds descended over the Hill, illuminating the night with their eerie effervescence.
Nora rolled the covers down and swept her legs out of the bed, pausing a moment to massage the calf of her bad leg through her uniform. Don't let me down now. Taking a deep breath, she rose to her feet and padded towards the window, peeling up the corner of the rag. Fog was veiling the compound, the canopy of lights above dim and ghostly in the vapour.
At another blinding flash, she let the rag fall back into place, dazzled. She turned back to face the room and yelped, her heart lurching into her mouth as a large, shadowy figure rose suddenly in the gloom.
"Nora?"
Nora sagged against the wall, exhaling heavily, her hand over her heart. "Danse. You startled me." She whispered, smiling weakly. There came another flash of light, and his handsome face was illuminated, though the hollows of his eyes and cheeks seemed to grow darker.
"I could say the same about you." He whispered back, frowning at her. "What are you doing out of bed?"
Nora parted her lips to speak, only for the storm to release another deafening boom. She gestured at the window, out towards the storm. Danse began to make his way across the room, trying to move as stealthily as he could. Nora couldn't help but smile. His footsteps were still clearly audible, but if the thundering above hadn't roused their companions, she didn't suppose his footfalls would.
When he was beside her, he raised the rag up and peered outside himself. "Radstorms always make me uneasy." He murmured as she leaned on the sill beside him. "They make for poor visibility and drown out sounds that you would otherwise be alert too. A deathclaw could be stalking you, and you wouldn't know about it until it's too late. To say nothing of the radiation itself…"
Nora glanced up, studying him silently for a few moments before looking out across the compound. "The Glowing Sea's supposed to be one endless radstorm, isn't it? Deadly levels of radiation, all sorts of irradiated creatures… And I've got to go straight into the heart of it." She sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Most people seem to think I'm embarking on a suicide mission…"
"You won't fall, and you won't fail." She felt the warmth of his body as he moved closer to her, his arm pressing against hers. She turned to find him watching her, his dark gaze intense. "The Brotherhood will see you well equipped for this mission. You'll have your power armour, as well as all the fire power and radiation protection you'll need. Besides, I'll be going in with you. It's my duty as your sponsor, and your friend."
Nora smiled at his words and leaned against him, her heartbeat speeding up as he smiled back down at her. "Just as my friend?" She whispered, her voice barely audible. The sky flashed again, the light reflecting in his eyes. His brows drew together and he turned to look out at the compound. The green radiance of the storm was fading as it moved on, driven by the winds, the dark of night closing in once more.
Nora wondered if she'd pushed her luck too far, turning to look down at the bar area, when she noticed a shadowy figure, stood at the corner of the tower. The moment she focused upon it, the figure seemed to withdraw, disappearing into the shadows. "Did you see that?"
"See what?" Danse frowned, his eyes following the direction in which she had pointed.
"Someone was out there, watching us."
"Someone was out in the storm? I find that unlikely." Danse murmured, turning to look at her again. "Perhaps you were seeing things?"
Nora pursed her lips, frowning as she scanned the compound for any visible signs of the watcher, but could find none. She jumped slightly when Danse touched her arm, turning to look at him. "I think its best we try to get some sleep, before we wake anyone up. Besides, tomorrow you prove whether or not you're still up to the mission."
"Fine," she sighed, taking one last look out of the window, peering into the fading haze as Danse retreated back into the room.
Nora felt bile rise to her throat when she came across the corpse in the road. A ghoul, wearing a slightly tattered dress lay upon the concrete, a large hole burned right through her torso. She had been sentient, judging from the lack of debilitating growths, her melted face still somewhat human in shape, the glazed eyes midnight black rather than feral gold. Who would do this?
She glanced up to where Danse and Rhys were observing a couple more ghoul corpses, rolling them over with their feet. She cringed to see Danse doing it in his power armour. "Can't you treat them with a little more respect?" She called, moving towards them, the stamp of her power armour echoing between the buildings. "They weren't ferals!"
"They're ghouls, Hart. Dead ghouls. Glad someone saved us the ammo." Rhys snorted, turning away from the body he had been examining. "Seems a waste of fusion cells, though. They weren't even armed or armoured, from what I can see."
Nora bit her tongue, fighting the urge to argue with him. The morning exercises had been going well until this point. She had found it easier to move in her power armour than she had thought, and Rhys had been surprisingly tolerant thus far, having not snapped at her even once.
Danse had moved over to one of the buildings, the mechanical fingers of his power armour touching the melted bricks. "Judging from the damage to the ghouls and buildings, I'd say they were attacked by an assaultron." He frowned, turning to look back at them.
"So you think it was the Gunners, sir?" Rhys asked, his face pulling into a scowl.
"Affirmative. Though I cannot begin to imagine what reason they'd have to butcher the abominations. It does seem a terrible waste of ammo and tech to fire upon the filth with such force."
"Maybe I could answer your questions."
The three soldiers turned sharply towards an alleyway, where a man dressed in filthy travelling attire was stood, watching them from beneath the brim of a battered fedora, his eyes concealed by sunglasses.
"State your name and intention, civilian!" Danse demanded, reaffirming his grasp on his rifle.
Nora studied the man intently for a few moments. Then her lips parted in a grin. "Deacon! What're you doing here?"
The man stood up from where he had been leaning against the wall, returning her grin with one of his own. "Almost had you there, didn't I? I'm on holiday! Wanted to do some sightseeing at Bunker Hill."
Danse snorted contemptuously as he stood down, glaring as Deacon stepped out onto the street. Rhys noted Danse's reaction, and although he turned the sights of his rifle away from the interloper, he pulled his most intimidating expression, standing rigid.
"Hello to you too, Danse. How're you finding Bunker Hill hospitality?"
"Adequate." Danse replied stiffly.
"Great! Fantastic conversation! Now we can go back to ignoring each other for a year. Or many years, I'm not picky." As the Paladin snorted again, Deacon turned his attention back to Nora. "How've you been? It's been a few weeks since I last saw you… I heard what happened from Nick. You doing okay?"
"I'm… I'm just relieved to know that I've got a chance to see my little boy again, even if he doesn't know me." Nora's smile became sad, her eyes anguished. Deacon patted the exposed frame of her power armour's arm, his expression sympathetic.
"Hang tough. We'll bring him home safe yet, just you wait. Then Uncle Deacon can teach him all the fun things in life, like how to play canasta! You know, you should ditch these two and come play a game with me. I think their grumpiness is catching."
"Maybe later," Nora smiled, noting the way Danse and Rhys were bristling. "I'm in the middle of a mission."
"Can't be very fun, judging from their expressions. Or did the wind blow and their faces stick that way? I don't think that guy's even blinked at me."
"You got something to say, say it to my face." Rhys snapped, his tone acerbic.
"Enough." Danse barked, scowling. "You said you had some information on what happened here, so spit it out."
"Alright. Don't get your steel panties in a twist." Deacon sighed, folding his arms and turning to look at them. "As you said earlier, this mess was caused by an assaultron and laser weapons. Gunners, as I'm sure you've already deduced.
"Well, these poor bastards are some of the cargo the Gunners were in the process of moving towards Quincy. They got distracted by the caravans offering them a huge number of caps for protection, though, so they detoured to get them to Bunker Hill."
"The cargo?" Nora frowned, turning back to look at the bodies littering the road, her gorge rising again.
"There's a group of Gunners near Quincy who deal in slaves." Deacon nodded. "They're led by a guy called Bullet and they deal mostly in ghouls. Less commotion that way, more people willing to turn a blind eye to it than dealing in humans."
"I do not understand why anyone would bother purchasing these filthy creatures." Danse frowned, approaching them with Rhys following in his wake. "They should all just be destroyed."
"Slave labour, from what I've heard. Some people will pay a lot of caps to secure a ghoul workforce. You can work them a lot harder than humans for one thing, and some people feel no guilt about beating or killing a ghoul." Deacon added pointedly, glancing between Danse and Rhys.
"Ghouls are dangerous." The Paladin growled. "They're a time bomb. One day they'll turn feral and savage those they once called friend."
"The same could be said about some humans, too." Deacon said quietly, staring the Paladin in the eye.
"But that doesn't answer the question of what happened here," Nora quickly interjected before they dissolved into an argument.
"They had a pretty big group of ghouls, from what I heard. I'd hazard a guess that these ones got away and were made an example of."
"We'd better keep our guard up," Danse frowned, scanning the street.
"Most of the group moved off hours ago, assaultrons included. But there's still a couple of them at Bunker Hill, including the sergeant who's leading them. I think the two of you already met," he added, glancing between Nora and Danse. "Bastard stole the limelight before I could dramatically race forwards and catch you in my arms!"
"So he's a slaver?" Nora's eyes narrowed. "Why hasn't he left with the rest of his company?"
"Could be the barfood, the fresh smell of brahmin, or the delightful company he's found there. But seriously, I'd watch my back if I were you. Guys got a nasty reputation and he's not above doing extra work on the side."
"Noted. Now, if you're done, we've got a training exercise to finish." Danse grunted, jerking his head for Nora to follow his lead.
"Will you be at Bunker Hill later, Deac?"
"Oh, sure. Still on holiday. Let me know when you finally get some shore leave and we can hang out." Nora smiled and nodded, before following after Danse and Rhys.
"Damn it! Where could he have gotten too?!" Haylen sighed, pushing a stray lock of auburn hair back beneath her hood. She had been searching for the Squire for over an hour now, her anxiety increasing with each passing second. "To think I thought Danse had given me the easy job…"
"Still no luck finding the kid?" She glanced up to see Tony Savoldi watching her with a pitying gaze. During their stay there, Danse had become quite friendly with the Savoldi's, enough to encourage her and Rhys to put a little trust in them, too.
"No. I'm guessing it's too much to hope that he came back here?" She sighed, walking towards the bar which was enjoying a temporary lull after the lunch time rush.
"No sign of him, though me and Pops are keeping an eye out."
Haylen groaned, lowering her face into her hands and shaking her head. I don't think I should ever have kids.
"So, where have you searched?" Tony pressed gently, absently running a stained cloth along the bar top.
"Let's see… I've been behind all the buildings, every alleyway I could find, the plaza, the corrals…" As she continued to list places, Tony's eyebrows rose higher and higher beneath his flat-cap. When she finally finished her list, he let out a low whistle.
"Well, those are all the places I could think of. Not sure where else you could search in the Hill… Maybe if you drop Meg, Kay's daughter a few caps, she could ferret him out for you. She's resourceful when caps are involved."
Haylen could feel the blood draining from her face. "You think he could've gotten outside somehow?"
Tony shifted uncomfortably. "Well… It's been a busy day around here, lots of traffic since the Gunners carved a path through the mutants. Everyone's eager to make a trade before it becomes too dangerous to move again. He could have probably slipped out with one of the bigger groups, but he's a good kid. I can't see him doing that."
"Oh I can…" Haylen massaged her temples for a few moments before straightening up, looking resigned. "Guess I've got no choice. If the others get back before me, I guess you'd better tell I've got looking for the Squire. If the Squire comes back, please lock him in the room."
"Yeah, you got it." Tony nodded, watching as the Scribe turned away and set off up the stairs back to the room.
With Kessler's promise to keep an eye out for Burke, Haylen finally drew in a deep breath and set off down the steps and onto the street below. A steady stream of people were trickling in and out of the Hill, which she knew would only make the job even harder. Would he have followed a caravan? Or would he strike out on his own?
She sighed, keeping her hand at the holster on her thigh. She had supplied herself with plenty of ammo and stimpaks. She was just as capable a soldier as she was a scribe, having learned from the best. She could do this.
The people who passed her eyed her uniform curiously, their eyes flitting between the bulging pouches holding her ammo, her laser pistol and her face. She adopted a steely expression that caused most of them to look away. If she appeared weak, she was at greater risk of being attacked. Soldiers of the Brotherhood were often a target due to their superior firepower and tech. It drew in as many people as it scared away.
She forced herself to push such thoughts out of her head, trying to focus on where to search first, praying she didn't hear the heavy stamp of advancing power armour before she had the boy back in her custody.
Two hours later, Haylen was in despair. There was no way the others wouldn't be back by now and if she wasn't back soon, they'd likely come looking for her. But maybe Burke's already back there. Maybe he's returned to the room and I've got nothing to worry about other than looking foolish in front of the others…
She slowed her step, about to turn around when she heard the creaking of a door. She turned her head, watching as the peeling white door of a rundown yellow house pulled shut. She felt her body tense up and she held still for a few moments, watching for any tell-tale signs of danger, but none came. That was when she noticed a collection of children's toys on the veranda. There were teddy bears, miniature cars and trucks, a battered looking toy alien and rocket ship… He's probably a little old to be playing with toys, but he does have that bear in his sleeping bag…
Cautiously, she slipped her pistol free from its holster and began to advance to the door, checking for any potential dangers. "He's in for the telling off of his short life if I find him in here…" She found herself whispering, despite the fact the area she had entered was completely deserted.
Slowly, she raised her hand to the tarnished doorknob and turned it. The door opened with groan, the light at her back cutting through the heavy gloom beyond. She gagged at the stench emanating from within, memories of the ferals swarming the Cambridge Compound assaulting her mind. There's no way he could be in here… She told herself, about to pull the door shut again, when she heard the pattering of light footsteps on the floorboards above.
"…Burke?" She called cautiously, raising her pistol. God I wish I'd brought a torch or something… For a few moments, she heard nothing, the interior eerily still. Then she heard a strange, muffled sound from somewhere above, as though something was trying to strangle an anguished whimper. "Burke?" She called again, raising her voice.
Shit this is a bad idea… But if I go back to Bunker Hill and he's not there… If he's HERE… I can handle myself. I know I can. It's why I survived the recon mission. She turned her head to drink in a deep breath of fresh air, before forcing herself to enter the gloom.
She was dazzled by the sunlight, her vision painfully slow to adjust to the dimness within. The windows had been boarded over, same as most of the houses following the war. She could make out the darker silhouettes of furniture strewn around the room. Part of her wished she had closed the front door, so as not to leave herself night blind, though another part of her was glad to have a clearly visible escape route and some illumination. With each step she paused to listen, straining to hear the slightest movement, but other than the soft whimpering from above, she couldn't hear anything.
Eventually, she was able to make out the shadow of a bannister, marking the location of a staircase leading into the dark upstairs. Warily, she placed one booted foot on the first step, cringing when the wood let out a tortured shriek. She paused, listening, but when no wasteland horrors descended, she released the breath she'd been holding and began to proceed, terrified that one of the steps would disintegrate beneath her tread.
Finally, she reached the second floor. The darkness there was almost complete. She remained standing at the top of the stairs, waiting for her eyes to adjust. The whimpering was definitely on this floor. Gradually, she began to make out towers of what could have been boxes, set against walls as well as more furniture strewn about. There were rooms set on either side of the hallway, but the whimpering came from none of them.
In a faint beam of sunlight which escaped through the boarded windows at the end of the hall, she could just make out a small figure, sat on the floor with its back to her. "Burke?" She called softly, approaching with her pistol in her hands.
The figure grew still and Haylen froze in place, watching as it slowly turned to look at her. "You shouldn't be here," a harsh, gravelly voice whispered. "It's not safe for you." From one of the rooms, Haylen heard something stirring with a growl. Beginning to sweat, she turned her pistol towards the room the noise emanated from, her eyes widening at the sound of dragging footsteps and heavy breathing.
"Just go before they all wake up! GO!" Hissed the voice at the end of the hallway.
Haylen turned her pistol to face the speaker, fighting to keep her breathing under control as she backed towards the stairs. Part of her wanted to turn and bolt, but she was afraid to leave her back exposed.
She heard a low gurgling, and turned her eyes back towards the room in which the thing had stirred. Two glowing rings were suspended in the darkness. Haylen's finger pulled the trigger and she was blinded by the sudden flash of red light as her pistol fired.
The ghoul shrieked and came barrelling towards her. Haylen managed two more shots before it fell on top of her, sending her sprawling backwards into some of the boxes. She fell with a shout, the boxes falling in an avalanche of paper and cardboard. Frantically, she fought to throw the dead weight off of her, panting hard. The ghoul offered no resistance, its lifeless corpse rolling back onto the papers around her.
Haylen's eyes widened as she heard sudden flurries of movement all around her. Feet padding upstairs, papers rustling in the rooms and hall as the abominations began to rise from their sleep. "Hurry! You have to go now!" Haylen felt something grab her arm and wrench her to her feet, dragging her towards the stairs.
She barely managed to keep a hold of her pistol as she allowed the stranger to pull her along, only for them to freeze at the top of the stairs. Haylen's eyes grew wide. At least four ferals had gathered at the bottom of the stairs, their heads cocked, crooked teeth bared as they glared up at her.
"Watch out!" The gravelly voice cried and Haylen turned around sharply to find several sets of glowing eyes descending on her.
She raised her pistol and began to fire at them frantically. Not like this. Not like this. She heard a thundering on the stairs as the ferals began to surge up them, crawling on their hands and feet. The person that had led her to the stairs let out a cry, launching a kick at the first feral's head, causing it to slip backwards a few steps, the others to falling down with it.
The laser flashes from her pistol were too bright and the Scribe found herself struggling to pick her targets in the bursts of light. Unfortunately, the ferals seemed to be able to see her just fine. With a primal shriek, one of the abominations launched itself at her. Her head hit the wall and she was suddenly falling down the stairs, straight towards the clawing fingers of the ghouls below.
She landed on top of them and barely had time to register what had happened before teeth and bony fingers began to tear at her uniform. She thrashed wildly, her head spinning, the strangled whimper escaping her lips drowned out by the guttural snarling of the ghouls. More of them were coming down the stairs and she was unarmed, having dropped her pistol when she fell.
Pain lanced up her leg, then along her side as the ghouls began to bite. A large, hunchbacked ghoul fell down the stairs from above and landed on top of her. She couldn't breathe, could only stare at the mottled grey skin as the ghoul pushed itself upright, her eyes drawn to the black and yellow teeth in its rotting gums. Is this what it was like for Keane? She thought faintly, tears blinding her vision.
Yellow saliva dribbled down onto her face as the feral began to lean forwards, its fetid breath hot against her skin…
BANG.
The feral's head lolled forwards, its face pressing to hers. She heard a sharp whistle, and suddenly something large was thundering across the floor. There was a vicious snarl, and one of the ferals beneath her began to jerk violently as it was wrenched away.
She managed to shove the corpse atop of her away, only to see another three ferals surging down the stairs towards her.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Red clouds sprayed the air as the shots found their marks, effortlessly tearing through the skulls. Haylen desperately clawed at the floorboards, dragging herself out of the mass of ferals. She could see the outline of a large dog, just outside the light of the open doorway. She heard a sickening tear and the feral beneath it went limp.
She felt bony fingers biting into her calf and cursed, kicking desperately back at the feral, when she heard a smart fwip, followed by the sound of metal thunking against skin and realised one of her rescuers was behind her. The feral's grip went slack, and she managed to crawl further away, realising when she came to a stop that the feral's hand was still grasping her leg… without an arm attached.
She kicked it away, staring as blue sparks illuminated the area by the stairs, revealing a tall and rangy silhouette. The figure raised a modified shock baton, the volts crackling menacingly, and brought it down upon the remaining ferals in a frenzy. Haylen cringed, watching as the creatures screeched, their bodies beginning to spasm. The man struck them so hard, Haylen could hear the brittle bones of the creatures breaking and felt vomit at the back of her throat.
She managed to drag herself to her feet using the nearest piece of furniture and staggered towards the open door, barely making it off the veranda before she vomited. She had been in deadly combat situations before, she had dealt with horrific wounds… but nothing had prepared her for that.
She wiped her mouth on her sleeve without thinking and almost vomited again, her skin crawling where it came into contact with ghoul blood and drool… Or was that her blood?
Suddenly she heard an angry shout from inside the house and scarlet flashes illuminate the inside as somebody used her laser pistol. She heard the dog yelp and someone roar, and found herself casting around for anything she could use as a weapon, finally picking up a sizeable wooden plank that had fallen from one of the buildings. She was about to step back onto the veranda when a tall man dressed in Gunner green stepped into the doorway, crouched down and whispered softly to the large, muscular dog that was limping beside him, eyes wide and long, spindly tail between its legs.
He glanced up, pinning her with glacial blue eyes. "You got a stimpak on you?"
Haylen nodded, withdrawing one from her supply vest. The man's uniform was blackened and seared from the laser shots, angry red wounds standing out against the green. But he ignored his own wounds, injecting the stimpak into the dog instead. The animal yelped, anxiously licking at his hand as he whispered softly to it, crouching down to gently rub its ears.
"What happened in there?" Haylen asked, keeping herself at a wary distance.
The man planted a kiss on top of the dog's head, before straightening up and removing his cap, revealing a shock of rust coloured hair. "Simple. Me and Luck killed most of the ghouls. Then one of them started shooting at us, with your weapon, I'm guessing?" He added, his eyes flicking to the empty holster on her thigh.
"Don't be ridiculous, ferals don't know how to fire weapons." Haylen frowned, folding her arms. "And what happened to the other person who was in there with me?"
"What other person? You were the only human that was in there." The man replaced his cap upon his head, tugging at the strap that held his assault rifle at his shoulder.
"Someone was in there with me, telling me to leave."
"Not someone. Something." The Gunner corrected. "I can only think it was the last ghoul me and Luck were on the trail of. I had been hoping to bring it in alive, at least get a few caps for the trouble, but then it shot Luck. Nobody even touches Luck without my permission."
The dog whined softly at the mention of its name and raised one large paw to tap his leg. "Shh. Sit." The man gentled his voice, and the dog immediately sat, whimpering slightly. The man glanced back to Haylen. "I'm guessing you're with the Brotherhood soldiers at Bunker Hill?"
"Yeah. What of it?" Haylen frowned. She saw no point in lying, especially as she was in uniform.
The man smirked slightly, shaking his head. "You're the second Brotherhood girl I've had to rescue in as many days. I should start charging for my services." He turned and disappeared inside the house, prompting Luck to whine anxiously.
Haylen frowned, watching as the blue light of the shock baton began to dance inside the dark. A few moments later, it cut out and the Gunner returned, slipping the baton back into an insulated sheath at his thigh, her laser pistol in his free hand. "Catch."
Haylen caught it in both hands, watching as the man approached her, whistling for Luck to follow. The large brindle hound obeyed, wagging her tail slightly, the stimpak having already reduced the angry welt on her shoulder. The man fished a cigarette from his jacket, lighting it with a gold plated lighter. He took a long drag before offering it to her.
"No, I don't smoke."
"Suit yourself." The man shrugged. "You heading back to Bunker Hill? I've got to take Luck to see the vet now, so we'll be going the same way."
Haylen hesitated. The man had saved her, but she didn't trust him. There was a cold detachment in his eyes, save for when he looked at the dog, and the ghoul blood that speckled his face reminded her of his frenzied attack on the creatures. As a member of the Brotherhood, she had no love of ghouls, and yet the way he had attacked them…
She jumped, startled from her thoughts by a staccato of gunfire from somewhere nearby. Luck growled softly, the man reaching down with his long fingers to soothe her. Haylen caught the Gunner's eye and nodded. "We'd better go before we meet more trouble."
The man nodded, slipping his rifle from his shoulder as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. "Then let's go."