Hey guys, welcome to chapter 3! Things have been moving at a good speed so far, you can expect it to continue, but I will be making connections between some missions in this story that do not exist in game. I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 3
The sun begins to rise over the horizon in the east. It starts its daily path of war across the already baked earth, scorching it all the more. Luther watches the rising sun, wondering just why it bothers to try burning an already blackened world. He stands up and stretches, raising his arms above his head and sighing in relief as his back and shoulders pop a few times. He hadn't realized how long he had been sitting in the same position. When on watch about the only part of him that moves is his head, and even then only slightly.
He breaths out a content sigh before entering the house they settled in and waking up the others. Tyler gets up with his usual amount of complaint but sets about getting ready right away. The kid, however, takes a lot more coaxing to wake up. Luther finally gets annoyed with him and grabs two metal sheets from the wall. He drags them over to the kid's head and proceeds to bang them together. The kid jerks up, scrambling away from the noise in a panic, reaching down to his belt for his gun only to find that his holster is empty.
"Searching for this?" Tyler asks, holding up the kid's 10mm. "Found it lying in the dirt. Bad way to treat your equipment kid, especially if you aim to make it more than a few days out here in the real world. You already fucked up by getting captured by raiders, bet you never saw anything like them in the vault did you?"
The panic in the kid's eyes vanishes, replaced by indignation. "A raider clubbed me in the back of the head! What did you think was going to happen? that they would kidnap me and let me keep my weapons?"
"You were kidnapped," Luther says darkly, "most people have better luck than that."
"What," he stammers, "what do you mean?" At the look Luther gives him he recoils. "You mean to say that it would be better to be killed than to be taken prisoner?"
"Sometimes, yes." Tyler answers. "Raiders don't just, kill, their prisoners. They torture them, to death. Often keeping a person alive for months at a time. After that, the best thing you can do for a person is to put a bullet between their eyes."
The kid looks back and forth between them, disbelief in his eyes. Luther sighs and pulls the kid to his feet. "Right, before we get going to anything else, there are a few things we have to address first." He motions for the kid to follow and leads the way outside. Once there he stands with his arms outstretched, "You need better gear." he explains. "Take mine for example. Leather harnesses, with some metal plating, over a coat with enough pockets to house all the ammo you need. This is good for me because I move around a lot. This gear does not absorb a lot of damage, but hopefully I should be able to avoid it. Now take Tyler's gear." He points as Tyler walks out from the house. "He wears mostly metal plate with some leather around the joints. He can soak up damage but his mobility is limited. That said, he adapts his fight style accordingly. we need to see how you fight, and then get you some armor for that leather jacked and vault suit, because that stuff alone just isn't cutting it. To determine what type of gear you require, I need to see what you have."
Luther lowers his arms and assumes a fight stance. The kid stares at him dumbfounded for a moment before realization appears on his face. "You want to fight? You want me to fight? Me, you, fight? No way, I have been beaten enough already. Besides, what about your broken arm?" He lets out a painful umph as Luther steps forward and throws a punch into his side. He stumbles back, holding up his hands in front of him. "What, what was that for?" he gasps.
Luther steps forward again, landing another punch on the kid's side. "Your enemies," he growls, "will not tell you when they are going to strike. You have to learn to watch them and predict their moves. Especially when fighting hand to hand." He goes to punch again, but stops. "Actually, Tyler is the better close quarters fighter, he should show you the ropes." He steps back with a flourish and beckons Tyler over. "All yours." he says as he steps aside. Tyler cracks his knuckles and moves forward.
The kid lets out a yelp of fear and attempts to run, but Tyler intercepts him, blocking his path. He sweeps the kid's feet out from under him, sending him sprawling to the ground in a heap. He steps back only long enough for the kid to stand again, before grabbing the kid's shoulder, twisting him around, and sending him into the ground face first. This time the kid does not move to get back up. Instead he just lies their with his face in the dirt. "All right kid," Tyler growls, "that is enough. Get up." The kid does not move and Tyler reaches down to turn him over.
The kid rolls over, throwing a handful of dirt in his hand at Tyler's face. Tyler, expecting that, moves quickly to the side and grabs the kid by his jacket. He yanks the kid up off the ground and holds him aloft. The kid's feet are only just brushing the ground and his struggles to break free are in vein. However, he does not stop trying. Luther smiles to himself, making sure the kid does not see. He has spirit at least. "I think he gets it, Tyler."
Tyler scoffs and drops the kid, "Just when I was getting warmed up. Pity." Luther offers a hand and helps the kid up. He dusts him off and looks around. He spots the body of one of the raiders they killed yesterday during the ambush and walks over. Crouching down, he examines the dead man's gear. Crudely welded and spiked metal plates mostly, with some frayed leather and rope straps holding it all together. He gathers the up the parts that look to be in the best condition and moves on to another body. He continues on until almost all of the raider corpses have been stripped of their better armaments. He deposits the mismatched collection on the ground and calls the kid over.
"We have hear the finest selection of gear for you to choose from, actually I will do the choosing, so please take your pick." He then proceeds to hold up different parts to the kid. Some he tosses aside, deciding that they are too big, too bulky, to decayed, or some other thing he does not like. Finally he decides he has done enough and steps back to admire his work. The kid now has spiked shoulder armor, though the left side is considerably bigger than the right, along with mismatched gauntlets, leg armor, and a harness set that should allow for him to carry several weapons at once. "Not bad," he mumbles to himself, "not bad at all. Congratulations kid, you now look the part of a wastelander."
Tyler emerges from the ruin and looks the kid over with a critical eye. "You sure this stuff isn't too heavy for him?" he asks, noting the way the kid is squirming uncomfortably as he adjusts his new gear.
Luther shakes his head, "No, this will do for now, though I would suggest you get better equipment later on kid. I figure that since I don't know if you need light or heavy gear then you might as well compromise and mix both. Can't really go wrong with taking the middle ground can you? All right, we have lingered around here for long enough. Let's find this Silver bitch and get our fucking caps already."
They set off towards the intact house up the hill. "Okay," Luther says over his shoulder, "there is no way this bitch does not know we are here, not after all the noise we have made. No reason to play it nice. She has to have seen us fight, so lets just go in there, act mean, get our caps, and get the fuck out before she even has a chance to realize the kid is trying not to piss all over his new armor in excitement." The kid opens his mouth to respond but falls silent as Luther knocks on the door to the house.
From inside they hear a small crash followed by a colorful string of curses. The door opens only a bit and a woman's voice comes out. "Who they hell are you? What do you want? Did Moriarty send you?"
Smart woman, Luther thinks to himself. "Just open up. We haven't been sent to kill you, only to collect."
The woman hesitates a second before opening the door the rest of the way. "I was sure he would just send some killers. What exactly are you here..." She trails off as she gets a look at them. "Fuck!" she shouts in a panic as she jumps back and tries to slam the door. Luther's foot gets in the way before she can though and he quickly forces the door open. The woman retreats back as her home is invaded by the three heavily armed men she saw kill the raiders not yesterday. Luther expects to see fear in her eyes. Instead there is only the blind rage of an addict who has been denied their doses for too long. The woman lets out another string of curses and goes for a shotgun leaned up against the wall. "You bastards killed all my suppliers!"
They have only enough time to throw themselves out of the way as the woman raises the gun and pulls the trigger. The scatter shot destroys everything on the countertop behind them. She fires again and Luther hears Tyler grunt in pain as some lead slices through his calf. Suddenly the kid's gun is out. He aims with a steady hand and fires once. Silver stumbles back before falling to the ground. The kid stands and empties the rest of his magazine into her head, leaving only a pulpy mass where once her face was. Luther's eyes are glued on the kid. He sees the sweat on the kids face, the tremble spreading along his body, and the look in his eyes. He moves out of the way as the kid falls to his knees, heaving. But only bile and air escape his already empty stomach.
Luther stands slowly. He looks down at the shredded body of the woman and the quickly expanding pool of blood around where her head used to be. A shudder goes down his spine as the sight conjures up unbidden memories from his past. A fowl, and sickeningly familiar, taste enters his mouth. He swallows past the lump in his throat and squeezes his eyes shut before regaining his composure. "Real, indecent." he mutters before helping Tyler up off the floor and turning to where the kid has curled himself into a ball in a corner. "Look around for any caps you can find. Remember, we need two hundred."
"What about him?" Tyler asks nodding his head towards the kid.
"Leave him," Luther replies curtly, "he needs to work through this on his own." Tyler moves over to a nearby wardrobe and forces it open while Luther crouches down and examines the woman's body. He sighs and pats down her pockets. He finds a small bag of caps on her belt and pulls it off, noting that a section of the bag has been stained with blood. He also finds a small crumbled note that details the woman's deal with the raiders. She keeps watch of Springvale, alerting the raider band whenever someone enters the ruins and in exchange for a steady supply of chems. Tyler chuckles in satisfaction and Luther looks up in time to see him scoop several canisters of jet, some psycho, and a bottle of buffout into a pocket. "How much did you find?" Luther asks as he stands.
Tyler holds up an old pre-war lunchbox. "Filled to the brim. Got to be at least two hundred, if not more." He gives it a shake to demonstrate his point. "Did you find anything?"
Luther hands the bag of caps over to Tyler along with the note. "Yes. Seems our little harlot here had a deal with the raiders we killed. She is likely behind the ambush yesterday. Who knows how many people she got killed with this."
Tyler reads the note silently, nodding his head. "The slick little bitch." He hands the not back to Luther, "You should show that to the kid. Let him know he didn't gun down an innocent. I'm sure it is eating him up thinking that he has."
Luther nods and turns to where the kid was, only to see that he is no longer there. He looks around quickly and notes the front door standing open. He steps outside and spots the kid standing a few feet away. He walks over and stands next to the him. The kid's eyes have a far off look in them as he stares at the bleak landscape around them. "Trying to figure out the world?" Luther asks. It is a rhetorical question and he goes on before the kid can answer. "Maybe this will help sooth your mind." He hands the kid the note and leaves him to make of it what he will.
He has already admitted to himself that he is fond of the kid on some level, but there is a limit to that. Sure, the kid may look the part now, but he has to be able to back that look up with the strength of will and skill required to carry that look and not die. There is only so much he and Tyler can do for the little shit, after that it is all up to him. They can't decide what type of person the kid will become, only he can. All they can do is provide him with what he needs to live long enough to become that person.
The trio enter the saloon and Tyler slams the door shut behind them. Again everyone goes quiet. Luther has to admit, he could get used to that sort of reaction. The three of them move confidently to the bar. They don't sit, choosing instead to stand there with arms crossed and faces set. Gob takes one look at them, taking in the beaten state of their gear, the tired and angry looks in their eyes, all the blood clinging to their faces, bodies, and clothes, and decides to get Moriarty from the back room. The Irishman steps out of his private office and gives them an appraising look over. "Well look who is back," he greets warmly, "our heroes and their loyal fan. Welcome, it is so very good to see you safe and alive." Luther easily sees past the warm words and the false smile. The look in Moriarty's eyes says it all.
"Drop the act" Luther snarls, "we aren't here for pleasantries."
Moriarty's face instantly changes. The show is over and now his face openly shows his contempt. "You three caused a fucking huge ruckus the last time you were here. You might as well have spat in my face. You had better have my fucking caps." Tyler wordlessly drops the lunchbox on the counter. The lid pops open and several caps spill out. Greed fills the mans eyes as he reaches for it. "Well then, that concludes our business. Now you should leave before I have you..." Tyler slams his hand down over the box, keeping Moriarty from taking in. The anger is back again instantly. "Just what the hell do you think you are..."
"There are a lot of caps there, Moriarty," Luther interrupts. The man turns his furious gaze upon him and he meets it with one of his own. He leans over the bar, getting very close to Moriarty's face. "There is more there than you asked for. The bounty on Silver was one hundred caps. We only want seventy-five plus the info on the kid's father."
A vein on Moriarty's head spasms. "You mean to come into my bar and expect to make demands of me! Our deal..."
"Our deal," Luther shouts over him, "was for us to deal with Silver in exchange for the information. Not only did we do that, but we have delivered all your caps and then some back into your grubby little hands. We also insured that you will have no competition in the chem market for a long, long time."
They continue to glare at each other. The moment drags on and he sees Gob and Nova edge themselves out of the room. He is sure things are about to get violent and almost reaches for his gun before Moriarty speaks. "Fine damn you! The kid's father came in here a while back asking about all sorts of things. I told him what was what and he left. Said something about going to find that idiot Three Dog at GNR." Luther steps back and crosses his arms triumphantly as Moriarty counts our the caps. "Take them," he fumes, almost throwing the caps at them, "and get the hell out of my bar! I don't want to see your faces around here ever again! Is that understood?"
Luther shoots him a savage smile as they leave that causes the man to take a step back at the severity of it. Moriarty knows there is something not right with those two men, that kid has to be just as insane to be traveling with them. As they step outside and the door closes behind them the kid lets out a huge breath. "Man," he laughs in relief, "I was sure we were going to have to make a run for it."
Tyler claps the kid on the back. "Not bad in there boy. There was a second when I was sure you were going to piss you pants like a little pussy, but you held it together. Now we should see if there is anywhere else in this fucking sinkhole where we can get a drink." Luther shoots Tyler a look and he shrugs, "Fine, the kid and I will do all the drinking. Com on boy, lets see how much you can handle. I bet you barely make it two rounds." The kid gives Luther a pathetic, pleading, look. Luther shakes his head. The kid will have to get himself out of this one.
Luther stays where he is, leaning against the catwalk outside the saloon, and watches as Tyler all but drags the kid into a place called the Brass Lantern. "Interesting companions you have." a cold, smooth, voice comments behind him. He turns and is surprised to see the man in the pristine white suit standing behind him. "I do say, my good man, you know how to make an impression on the locals, but, as I am sure you can tell, I am not a local. My name is Mr. Burke, and I have a proposition that may be of interest to you."
"Mr. Burke," Luther says as he shakes the hand the man has offered, "please continue. I find myself, intrigued."
"My, my," Mr. Burke almost purrs, "just when I had all but given up hope. My dear man, I am very happy to make your acquaintance. I represent certain... interests who view this town, this 'Megaton,' as a blight upon an otherwise perfect landscape. You and your associates have no interests here. No connections to the people that could hinder your thought process. You could assist us in erasing this little, accident, off of the map. I assure you, the rewards will be well worth your effort."
Luther looks out over the settlement he has so many times thought of as a cesspit filled with squatters. He thinks back to the treatment Moriarty gave the kid when all he wanted was a little information and the hell they all went through to get it. He looks back at Mr. Burke, and smiles, "Go on, I'm listening."
Dun, Dun, DAAAAA!