Hey everyone, sorry about the delay with this chapter. I caught the plague or something. This one proved difficult to write, but I am satisfied with the result, hope you all enjoy!
Chapter 8
The gates open and they all rush in. Nick almost feels sorry for the other poor sobs who hoped they would have what it takes to make it as a fighter in the hole, but then they attack him and all pity disappears. The other scabs are pathetic. A lifetime of malnutrition, disease, radiation exposure, and abuse has left them thin and ragged. Yet they make up for their physical condition in their determination to live. They have made it this far, they want to make it further. It is was not for Nick, they one they have all now decided is the biggest treat and have temporarily joined forces to defeat, one of them may well have made it.
Nick is here though. He is with them at the bottom of the hole. The master's favorite past time. Crowded along the metal dome that tops the hole he can see them all watching. They leer, goad, and cheer as blood is spilled. Many have placed bets on who will win. Even more of them hope no one will live long enough to be a winner. Nick despises them, yet, at the same time, he needs them. They are key. They are who will carry him into the ranks of the master's army. They are the ones who will make everything he has planned possible. All he has to do is play to them, make them love and hate him, make them fear him. If he does that, if he kills as though he is a wild beast, then everything will fall into place.
A scab comes at him wielding nothing more than a scrap of metal crudely shaped into a shiv. Despite himself, Nick cannot help but laugh. The fool. The poor, idiotic fool. Nick holds his arms out, in a welcoming manner, and smiles at the scab. The man lets out a battle cry and charges forward with determination. Nick can see past the false hope the scab displays, there is fear in the man's eyes. That is all Nick needs to see. Stepping out of the way at the last moment, the momentum of the scab's swing carries him forward, right past Nick, exposing his back. Nick plows the auto ax he took from the first scab he killed today into the back of his new challenger. The scab screams in agony as he is lifted off of the ground and cut to ribbons. Blood rains down on Nick from where he stands beneath the increasingly mangled body of the scab. His roar matches the scabs, and eventually drowns it out.
He heaves, sending what is left of the scab's body flying into another scab who screams in terror as the corpse pins her to the ground. Four scabs left standing. two rush him together and he raises the auto ax to meet them. The first to reach him quickly dies in a show of his own gore and meat. The next slides under Nick's attack and manages to cut a long gash into his leg. Nick growls and hurls the auto ax at the man. The rotating blades catch the scab square in the chest and slam him into the wall where the still running weapon destroys his body chunk by chunk. Nick turns to the last two scabs. He is weaponless now, and these two have been smart enough to hang back until now.
One of the scabs is elderly, with long greasy white hair and a beard. The other is younger, his face not yet mauled by the radiation in the air. Both are circling him now, both looking for an opportunity. Nick stands solid, not turning his head to follow their movements. Instead he is focused on something in front of him, something that will come in handy soon. The old man moves first, charging Nick with a silent roar. Nick responds by leaping towards the man and grabbing a fist full of white hair. He yanks down, pulling the old man to the ground. He drags the squirming man to the side of the hole. Above him the crowd of masters erupt with bloodthirsty shouts of encouragement as they realize what he intends to do. The man doubles his attempt to break free as he also realizes his fate. Nick reaches the ventilation shaft and mercilessly forces the hair into the spinning metal fan. He steps back and watches as the old scab's hair is caught in the fan and he is dragged to his doom. Blood splatters Nick's face and the fan splutters to a stop.
He turns to the last of the scabs, the young man. He snarls and stalks towards him slowly. The young man cries out in fear and retreats back. He tries to climb up out of the hole, but the masters push him back down. Nick grabs the young man by the rags he wears and slams him against the wall. They young man tries to beat Nick with the chunk of piping he carries, but Nick does not feel anything. He places a hand over the mans face, and slams his head into the wall. He feels the man's skull crack and cave in beneath his hand. He releases the man and throws his arms up. The crowd of masters cheer. They have been wiped into a frenzy by his bloodlust. He makes his way back to the door he entered from, but finds that it is still barred. At first he is confused, all the scabs are dead, but then he remembers. He turns to where the scab woman his still pinned beneath the mangled corpse of another scab. She had been lying still, hoping she would be overlooked, but now she screams and struggles to escape from under the corpse.
Nick does not give her the chance to escape. He places a foot on the copse and pressed down. The woman screams as the pressure on her body increases. "Please!" she suddenly shouts. Nick is stunned. She can speak. She is a scab, and scabs are human, but only animals are allowed in the hole. Only animals fight they way they have been fighting. Animals do not speak. "Please," she whimpers, "please, save me." There are tears streaming down her face. Nick's heart cries with her.
"Okay." he says after finding his voice. He leans down close to her and wraps his arms comfortingly around her head. "Okay." he repeats again. There is a way for him to save her. He can do this. He does not want to, but he can. He takes a deep breath, and saves the woman from the Pitt and the hole, forever.
"Son of a bitch." Luther mutters as he watches the kid snap the woman's neck. He steps back from the rusty iron grate he had been watching the match through and runs a hand over his head. "That, that just does not seem like him. Something here is very wrong."
"We need to nab him and get our asses out of this cesspit before things get worse." Tyler growls. "Lets just go down there and get him already."
"No," Wernher states defiantly, "you need my help to get out of here with the kid and your lives. I won't help until my people have what they need to live free lives." Without realizing it, Luther rests a hand on his gun. He does not trust Wernher. The man may have gotten them into the pitt, but the man is hiding something major from them. "Come on," the man continues after a few seconds, "we should get moving. I will explain the plan along the way."
Wernher leads them through a complex series of catwalks that cross over the top of the pitt. Eventually they leave the noise of the steel presses behind and enter a much more quiet area. A cold prickle travels down Luther's spine as they walk. Something about this whole situation has him on edge. He can almost sense the danger pressing in around himself. His fight or flight instincts are screaming that something his about to happen, but there is nothing around. He looks over at Tyler and can tell that his partner feels the same way from the fact that he has his shotgun out and ready. They stop at a ledge and Wernher motions for them to look down. They do, and Luther suddenly realizes just how ruthless Wernher is.
Below them, contained in a series of cages, are hundreds of the mutant trogs Wernher had told them about on their way here. The beasts are mostly quiet now. A few prowl about the edges of their cages, but most are lying contently on the ground, waiting to die or be released. "What the hell is this about?" Luther demands, turning to face Wernher.
The orange lighting of the mills far behind them casts Wernher's face in an eerie light as he answers. "This is the salvation of my people. It has taken me years to collect all these trogs. I plan to unleash them on the slavers in Uptown, but, these things won't go anywhere near a place that is well lite. So, I need you two to go in and take down the generators keeping the floodlights running. I also have set in motion the plans for the scabs to rebel. They should be distraction enough for you to get into the generator rooms without much trouble."
"Wait," Tyler interjects, "won't the scabs get caught between the trogs and the slavers? That will lead to a lot of dead people who will never get this freedom you are so keen on them getting."
"He does not give a damn about the scabs." Luther growls, his eyes still glued on the trog cages. "All he cares about is making the slavers suffer. I'm guessing that he has been spitted by them and his wounded pride is what has sparked this whole fucking rebellion thing. Well to hell with it." He stands up and glares at Wernher. "I will not be a pawn in your fucking revenge fantasy."
"I already told you," Wernher shouts, "I am your only chance of getting out of here alive with your friend. This is my price, bring down the generators, I get you out. You won't have to do anything else. That is all."
"What did they do?" Tyler growls. "What did these bastards do to make you so hell bent on revenge that you are willing to sacrifice the lives of hundreds of slaves just to make them suffer for a few hours?"
Wernher sneers, "A couple of thugs like you would never understand! This isn't just about my revenge, this is about building a future for these fucking people! If a hundred of them have to die in the process then so be it! I will get revenge, I will get the cure, and I will fucking see this through no matter what!"
"The cure?" Luther demands, "what cure?" Wernher's face pales as he realizes what he has said. Luther steps forward and gets right in his face. "What, cure?"
Wernher swallows hard, "There is a cure for the radiation these people have suffered from. Ashur, the leader of the slavers, he found it, and he is planning on using it to further his goals. Can you imagine what people would be willing to do for the promise of no longer having to worry about radiation? They would throw themselves at his feet and worship him like he were some sort of god! I can't let that happen! He would enslave thousands!"
"And you would much rather someone like you have all that power," Tyler spits, "because you are such a better person and would never abuse it."
"Are you saying that you would do better!" Wernher roars. "You think that you are incorruptible, that you are better than me? You two are filthy mercenaries! You would sell the cure to the highest bidder and not give a damn about what they did with it! At least I am trying to help!" His words spark an idea in Luther's mind. The cogs start rolling and he likes where all his thoughts go. He steps away from Wernher with forced reluctance. Time to put on a show.
"Fine," he fakes acceptance. "We will get your fucking lights off. Just tell us how to get in." He steps back up to Wernher and growls, "You had better pull through with getting the kid out safely or I swear upon whatever fucked up deity that runs your life, I will find you, and I will make death seam like a vacation." That part he did not have to act.
Wernher nods, "Don't worry, I never back out on a deal." He explains the plan to them and then leaves to give the signal to the scabs. Luther and Tyler start off in the direction that will take them to Uptown, following Wernhers directions to go down into a sewage tunnel so as they could enter undetected.
Halfway to their destination Tyler speaks up, "So exactly how much of Wernher's plan do we intend to follow before we go and do whatever madness it is that you have cooked up?"
Luther looks over his shoulder with a large smile on his face. "Why, what ever are you talking about? We are going to follow Wernher's instruction to the letter. Now if we just happen to make a small detour into Ashur's stronghold, that is just a mistake. If we also just happen to find the cure and then not run into Wernher again, that also is just a mistake."
Tyler smiles, "Well, imagine that, us making so many mistakes on one mission. We just might have to leave the pitt and never return. What a fucking shame. Just when I was starting to get used to the smell of rotting meat and burning hair."
Chaos. That is the only way Nick can describe what is happening. Chaos. Damn it all, things were going so well. After his ninth fight in a single day, he was finally approached by one of the masters. The man demanded that Nick accompany him to Uptown to meet Ashur. The man also returned the gear the masters had taken from him when he arrived. He was surprised by how good it felt to be back in his leather jacket and armor pads. Then, after they finally reach Ashur's mansion, The other scabs start a fucking rebellion.
He saw them com swarming through the same entrance he had been escorted through. They came running up the catwalks wielding modified auto axes and screaming like monsters. There were hundreds of them, but even with their numbers, the masters guns quickly cut their ranks in half and stopped their charge. The stalemate did not last long, however, as the power keeping the flood lights suddenly wend down. At first Nick did not understand the panic that swept through both sides of the conflict, until the trogs started swarming from every direction. The battle, turned into a massacre.
Nick could do nothing but stair as masters, slaves, and trogs alike all tore each other pieces. Then a hand clamped down on his shoulder and his instincts kicked in. He spun around and landed a hard kick to the side of the man behind him. He leaps back and draws his 10mm, intending to put a bullet through the man's head, but a second man appears and knocks the gun out of his hand. Nick moves to slam a fist into the second man's face, but the bastard moves out of the way and slams a metal plated fist into Nick's side.
Nick stumbles back, trying to catch his breath and stay out of range of his attackers. He is slightly surprised when the two men do not press the attack and instead just start yelling at him. Above them there is a sudden scream. Nick barely manages to move out of the way before the mangled body of a master falls to the ground. The trog that killed him drops down seconds later and leaps upon Nick's chest, latching on with its claws and sinking its razor-like teeth into his shoulder. He screams in agony and rage as he tries to force the beast off of him, but it has him pinned and there is no getting it off. The trog has tasted blood and is wiped into a feeding frenzy.
The trog splits open along its spine and blood sprays in every direction. Nick pushes the corpse of of himself and scrambles to his feet. Both of the men who attacked him seconds before stand before him with raised guns. That makes no sense to him, if they had guns, wouldn't they have just shot him instead of trying to take him by hand? Maybe they are stupid. He hopes they are. He rolls forward and scoops up the dead masters rifle from where it landed when the body fell from the catwalk. He brings it up, and freezes in place as he comes face to face with the barrel of one of his attackers shotgun. He is about to take a chance and try to knock the gun away, but the other man shouts sternly, "Nick!"
That voice, that tone, there is no way. There is no way at all. He saw the man who that voice belongs to die. He saw him shot in the head by the people who dragged him to the slavers. He is hallucination. It cannot be him, It simply cannot! He swallows hard and moves his eyes from the barrel of the shotgun to the second man standing just to side. He looks the man over. Short hair, rough beard, a long coat with leather and some metal padding, and enough pockets to carrying all of his things. He moves his eyes to the man holding the gun to his head. Metal armor, a full beard, and enough spikes and bloodstains to make a dead man look alive. He finds his voice, "Tyler, Luther?"
The gun moves from his head. "Yeah," the gruff voice responds, "It is us kid." Tyler helps him to his feet and looks him over. "Damn, I knew you would look bad, but still, damn."
Luther steps up with a look in his eyes that Nick does not recognize. "We saw you in the hole kid, I'm sorry we couldn't get here sooner. We were delayed, multiple times." Pity, that is what the look is.
Something inside of Nick coils itself up like a snake about to strike. He shakes his head and looks past them. There will be time for reuniting later, right now he has unfinished business. "Move," he demands."
"What?" Luther asks with a raised eyebrow.
"I said, move." Nick responds in a low growl. Luther makes a confused face and steps aside. Nick pushes past him and storms into the mansion. He hears them shout out and follow, but he does not listen to what they say. He enters the elevator and pushes the only button left on the panel. Luther and Tyler manage to get in just before the door closes. They stare at him, demanding he explain what is going on, what is wrong. He does not, he can't hear them. The doors open and he steps out. A slaver leaps from behind a pillar and makes to shoot him with a combat shotgun. He wrenches the weapon out of the man's hands and kills him with it.
He stalks down the hallway, his eyes glued on the only man left. Ashur. The slaver is ranting. yelling at Nick that he has ruined it all. Nick cannot hear him. Ashur's power armor appears like a monster in his eyes. deformed and evil. His voice is like nails on a chalkboard. Ashur screams something about building a new world as Nick steps up onto the mans desk and levels the combat shotgun with the slavers eyes. The slaver stairs at him with disbelief in his eyes, unable to comprehend that this is his end. Nick sneers, and pulls the trigger.
"The world I am building will be great! It will be a place free of the scourge of radiation and filth like you! I will..." Ashur's speech is cut off as Nick pulls the trigger and paints the walls with the former paladin's brains. Tyler flinches involuntarily. This whole time he had been telling himself that it couldn't possibly be the same Ashur. Yet it was. He recognized the man the second he laid eyes on him. He knows that he probably would have ended up killing the man just like Nick had, but still, seeing the kid just gun him down like that. He shakes his head and turns to Luther, "Find the cure."
Luther opens his mouth to respond, but Nick interrupts, "What cure?"
Luther glances over at Tyler, a few hours ago they were asking the same question. "Apparently our friend Ashur there has some sort of cure for radiation sickness or some bull like that. I expect it is just some new form of radex or somthing."
Nick steps down from Ashur's desk and walks over to them. "We need to find it." He turns on his heel and strides down a hallway to their right.
Tyler looks over to see Luther staring blankly at the body of Ashur. "I guess you are just as bother by what just happened as I am?"
Luther looks up slowly and shakes his head. "I shouldn't be. I realize that we would probably have had to kill him eventually, what with our plans to steal the cure and our part in the rebellion, but that was just, indecent. Something is wrong with the kid. I realize that this place is harsh and hellhole, but he has changed, and I don't know if it is for the better."
A scream followed by a gunshot sends them running down the hall the kid went through. They enter a medical room to see the kid standing over a dead woman on the ground and holding a child's crib in his hands. There is a look on his face, one of shock. "She came at me," he says in a flat tone, "with a fucking knife. All I did was ask where the cure was and she started screaming that I couldn't have her." He looks up at them and she shock vanishes, replaced by anger. "The cure is a drug, it is this child. Hers and Ashur's, they were experimenting on their own fucking daughter!"
Tyler moves to a nearby computer where a message is flashing. He reads it as Luther kneels and looks at the woman's face. Luther looks up at Nick with a sick look on his features, "So you just killed her? You killed a woman for trying to save her daughter from you? Have you seen yourself? No wonder she attacked you? What they hell Nick?"
"He isn't wrong through," Tyler says as he finishes reading the message on screen, "They were running tests on her. Seems they have even tried flooding her crib with radiation and nothing effects her. Not exactly stellar parenting."
"Enough bickering," Nick growls as he makes for the exit with the baby and the crib still in his arms, "we are leaving and we at taking the girl with us."
Tyler runs to catch up with him. "There is a a man named Wernher, he wants the child too. We came in to get the cure before he could. We didn't know it was a child, but I bet he did, the lying bastard." The three of them enter the elevator and take it down to the main floor. "Shit," Tyler curses as he realizes their position, "I was hoping we could smuggle the cure past Wernher and get out of here with his help. No way we can sneak a fucking child past him."
"You're damn right you can't," Wernher growls as the elevator doors open to the ground floor. Tyler automatically lifts his shotgun and beside him Luther pushes the kid back into the elevator. "Don't even try it." The man growls, indicating the slaves flanking him with those large weapons of theirs. "You even think about fighting your way out of here and we will cut you into bits. Now hand over the girl."
"Fuck you!" Tyler shouts, ready to jump in and fight.
"Wait," the kid orders as he pushes past them to stand before Wernher. "You, you are Wernher right?" Wernher nods. "Then you listen to me. This child is under my protection. If you so much as touch here with one of your dirty hands I will feed you to the trogs." Wernher cross his arms, unimpressed, until there are several snarls from behind him. He turns to see a group of trogs making their way into the mansion.
"Shit," he whispers, "I thought you said they were all dead!" he says to a nearby slave. The slave shrugs and raises his auto ax. The trogs growl and the nearest one crouches, ready to pounce. Then Nick steps in front of the slaves. The trogs and eveyone else freezes in place. Tyler feels a cold sweat break out on his face. Stupid kid, he is going to go and get himself kill after all our efforts to save his ass! But the trogs do not attack. They back off. They cower as Nick approaches them. The mutants hiss and growl, but they still retreat. The last one gives a final growl, and then disappears into the darkness outside.
Nick turns back to the stunned group behind him and marches back to Wernher. "Do you understand?" he growls. Tyler watches, more than a little impressed, as Wernher backs down and nods meekly. "Good," Nick continues, "now follow through on your deal with my associates and get us the hell out of here."
See why this may have taken a while. A whole lot of content in here. Oh, and the thing with the trogs, I made the streatch that Nick has acquired the animal friend perk and that now includes trogs, which are essentially animals. I figured not attacking is the same as respecting or fearing the wanderer. Leave a review if you liked or hated, all is welcome.