Chapter 8

I was still shaky after the destruction of Megaton. As I walked slowly to the south east, toward Rivet City, images of my shop haunted me. I had from my own hands built it; many years had passed since the opening day, and I still remember my first customer: Luke! Had he been killed in the blast? I imagined so. To avoid getting depressed, I turned my thoughts back to my guide. Although the Wasteland Survival Guide's master was in my shop, and most certainly incinerated, copies had flown off the shelves when I first bound it, so there were sure to be copies around the Wasteland I could copy from, so not all was lost. Thank goodness I had used myself as a model for the photographs, otherwise how else could I prove I was the author? I giggled as I thought of the photos I took for when one suddenly found oneself naked in the Wasteland and how to cope. Colin Moriarty, from the now defunct saloon in Megaton, had taken a special interest in that chapter when I showed him it. No doubt he often found himself in that situation, judging from his reputation!

As I trapsed along the barren countryside toward Rivet City, the occasional molerat requiring a beating to death, nearby noises pressured me to move at a quicker pace. Now, I am not normally one to get scared easily, but I was alone this time, and months of spending time with a trained mercernary had left me lazy! Unholstering my pistol, I pretended that I was Jericho. Though he was probably dead, at least he could live on somewhat as I frowned heavily and lowered my voice as I spoke to myself. If his corpse could be found, DNA from his body could theoretically be used to clone him, but that was beyond my ability, and the thought of him dead did not aid my confidence, so I started to whistle quietly. The noises grew louder, and before I knew it I was knocked to the ground, my pistol thrown aside by the shock! I looked up at my attacker, and vague recollections of his face entered into my mind. It was a raider, that was for sure, but a familiar one.

"Remember me, beyatch?" he mocked, as he spat down at me. I did. It was the raider me and Jericho had carelessly let escape many months ago! Jericho entered my mind again, but I quickly dashed those thoughts and stood up quickly, completely unarmed but for a stick covered in molerat guts. "You killed my fambly!" he shot out, in a stereotypically hick accent.

"Technically, my friend did most of the killing!" I smiled, as sweetly as possible. "And he is dead now, so if you don't mind, catch ya later!" He quickly dashed in front of me to prevent my escape, so I had to choice but to engage in combat. He, too, was unarmed, surprisingly, so it was to be a fist fight! "How exciting!" I thought to myself, like those detective comics I would read as a kid! As I tried to remember the titles, I was struck brutally on the side of my face by his fist. Now was not the time to fantasise!

Regaining my poise, I wiped the blood from my cheek and took a stance I had learnt from my shop assistant. He had trained himself in all aspects of combat, which was why I hired him in the first place! And he was cute. Not my type, but it brought in the local spinsters. The raider laughed manically as he mocked what he saw before him; he obviously did not think I would pose much of a threat. I smiled back at him, then took a quick step forward with my right leg, as if to strike. It had worked; the raider anticipated my right kick and that left me a chance to strike with my left hand, fingers clenched, with the first joint of my fingers used to impact his throat. It was amazing how the simple things in life were the best. As he staggered back, choking on his now crushed thorax, I swept him to the ground using my left leg, my right left foward stance used as leverage. He fell to the ground, unable to really cry out now.

Breaking stance, I rapidly glanced at my surroundings for my pistol. Luckily I had put glow in the dark stickers on the handle. Though they were from the '50s, the local radiation had kept them 'charged up' so to speak. I quickly dove, grabbed it, then let out in a shot in a semi-recumbent position from behind a rock, toward the body of my attacker. One shot was really all that was needed, so I had learnt from my shop assistant, as all I intended was to subdue him so I could close in for the kill. A headshot was all that was needed - any more and it would have been such a waste of bullets! And now that my stash was incinerated by an atomic bomb, it would be wise to keep gunfights to a minimum.

With the battle over, I replaced the glow in the dark stickers that had melted from the heat of the gun, and sighed with relief. So far I had only been walking twenty minutes, so it was still a long way till Rivet City. As I pulled out my map to locate myself, another noise, louder this time, rumbled from nearby. It vibrated the earth around me, but they were not intermittent crashes this time. It was as if a large engine was running somewhere nearby, like a plane or something. But there were no planes anymore! I glanced at my map, and it showed that the closest place was Marigold Station to the south, an abandoned Metro station infamously known for its fire ants. Though I was still rather nervous after nearly being killed again, my curiosity got the better of me and swept me along the path to the station. The noise grew louder as I approached, then suddenly lowered to an audible hum.

A small hill presented itself in front of me, a dune of barren earth and sand, decorated with the occasional rock and dead animal. Clambering up it slowly, making sure not to drop anything on me, I eventually reached the top, after nearly slipping several times on some stupid crab disguised as a rock! Baby mudcrabs did not nearly have the strength of their full grown relatives, so a swift kick was all that was needed. A stream of light hit me full on in the face as I peered over the top of the hill, and squinted against the artifical light. So this was what was causing the noise!

Amazingly, a train from the metro had found itself above ground, and with a working power generator to make the lights work! And if that noise was anything to go by, the engine was working too! This was too much for me to pass on by, so I quickly got to my feet and dashed toward the train, which was about 50 feet in front of me. Shouting suddenly came from near the train, and several figures appeared drawing closer to me. As I recoiled in horror (more than one person trying to kill me did not bode well!), shouts crying for my death grew louder.

"It's a smoothskin!" One croaked from the left. "Kill it!" came another from my right. They were ghouls! They did not look pleased to see me, and it seemed they would have beaten me to death if it were not for what followed.

From directly in front of me came a cry to halt my bloody murder! "Wait, I know this broad!" he retched, in a gravelly tone that was not unfamiliar. Lights from the train obscured almost all of their faces, including my saviour. Did he know me? I subconsciously backed away from the crazed ghouls, naturally, and peered closer at the ghoul who had stopped them.

"Well, well. Moira Brown. What the fuck are you doing here?" he called out, a laugh in his tone.

"Who..." I began, weakly, "Gob?"

Sudden recognition came into my mind, and I realised it was Gob, the barman at Moriarty's Saloon. What was he doing out here?

"Bit late for a walk, isn't it?" he replied. He turned to the other ghouls. "This chick is from Megaton, where I work. She is a scientist, so spare her life, please." he pleaded. "If anything happens to our machine then we can threaten her to fix it." he added. I laughed out loud and ran over to him.

"Did you not see the explosion?" I asked, forgetting about the train. "Megaton is destroyed!"

He slumped his shoulders and shook his head. "Of course I saw it, idiot. It was an atom bomb."

"Are you not upset?"

"Not really. It weren't as if it was full of saints, you know."

He had a point.

"The only two people who treated me normally were you and Nova. And it seems you are alive by some freak coincidence that only you could pull off, so that lessens that blow. Know anything about Nova?" he asked, with hope in his voice. The other ghouls had lost interest by now and were headed back to the train.

"Well, she is a hooker who works in Colin's saloon, and she is always asking for condoms, even though -"

"I mean, idiot, is she alive?"

I honestly had no idea. "Probably not." Though I had not seen her as I was leaving Megaton. But then again I had steered clear of Colin's saloon lest I ran into Jericho. I had tried to ween myself off him for a while after the ordeal at Paradise Falls, knowing I had fallen out of indepedence and into some sort of co-dependence, which did not lend itself well to experiments of a delicate nature!

"Whatcha doing?" I asked, to get his mind off his grief. "Is that a train?" I added. "What is a train doing here? And these ghouls, why -"

"One question at a time!" he shouted, plugging the holes in the side of his decayed head with the bones of his fingers. "Just follow me and you'll see. Just stick close to me if you don't want to be killed by someone."

I gladly obliged, and literally grabbed his arm and entwined it with mine. Carefully though, as not to rip off his rotten arm. He smelled like home! He rolled his eyes in their sockets and led me toward the train, which as I drew nearer, could see that it was elevated upon rails.

"Rails!" I squealed, a dozen or so ghoul faces turning to face me from the train. I giggled and turned red.

"She's daft as a brush, so just ignore her." Gob called out. The train had been completely renovated from the inside out. Before it was an uncomfortable carriage filled with tightly-packed seats, that must have stank in the American summer of the years passed. Instead, armchairs and sofas that adorned local houses had been put inside, decorated solemnly, but stylishly. My mouth gaped in wonderment as I peered through the carriage windows. Gas lamps lit the inside, and several ghouls wandered about inside, checking for god know's what.

"You did this with these ghouls?" I asked, incredibly. "It's amazing."

He nodded his head and patted the side of the carriage with his left arm, considering his right was smothered by me.

"But why?" I asked, my thoughts occupied with my guide. If this thing actually worked then it would be excellent for publishing material. And even if it didn't, there were always the tourists to visit it!

"It is a long story, that I doubt you would understand in your tiny brain." he replied, dragging me off to the front of the train.

"I am not so stupid as you think, you know!"

"Sure. Anyway, this baby is going to Rivet City tonight."

"It actually works!?" I cried, disbelievingly, into his face. "Why Rivet City? Why tonight? Why are you going there anyway? I'm going there." I stopped as he looked at me stupidly.

"Oh, sorry... one question at a time, right? Why Rivet City?" That was the most important; if I could get on then it would save that arduous and boring journey through the Wasteland. Sure, it was selfish, but I had a right to be when it seemed like everything here wants to kill you!

"It's part of a plan to get Rivet City on the side of the ghouls."

"Why? How?"

He looked at me again.

"Sorry. Continue!" I smiled.

"Tensions are high, Moira. Bounty hunters from cities to the North and North West have been coming more frequently, all due to some guy's hatred of us."

"Who?"

"Dunno. Anyway, one day at our regular 'ghoul fiestas' that we hold nearby (though I can't tell you where, exactly), we all decided to put a stop to it, and somehow get the protection of the locals. Rivet City seemed like the most obvious choice." He had a point.

"But, what makes you think they would accept it?" I asked. It was a stupid question. Any form of transport gave advantage in this dump. And this one worked! Apparently. "Wait, ok, forget that, I am sure they would. But what makes you think they won't just kill you and take the train?"

"Ah, but we have thought about that. Luckily, the way the train is powered allows only ghouls to operate it. High levels of radiation leak from the unstable engine used to power this things (and let's face it, that's really the only way you can power things this big in this Wasteland anyway). Oh, and there's a self destruct mechanism to destroy it if they start to attack us."

"You have really thought this through!" I smiled, glad that something new had been introduced to the Wasteland. The consequences would be fantastic! Better human-ghoul relations! New transport systems! Perhaps the future could be a good one. As I giggled away in a world of my own, I was pushed in front of another ghoul by Gob and introduced quickly.

"Desmond, you can get rid of that wig and makeup, we found ourselves a smoothskin negotiator." Gob cackled. I turned around sharply at Gob as Desmond sighed with disappointment and threw the lady's things away.

"What negotiator?" I asked, confused. I turned back at Desmond.

"She into ghouls?" he smirked, winking at Gob with his remaining eyelid.

"Are you?" Gob reflected the question back at me. I considered it briefly, and after past ordeals it would not be out of the question, as I had seen worse.

"Well, it depends on the person more than anything else. Their looks don't have much importance if they are an ass-"

"Oh, just shut up. You can thank me for saving your life from my ghoul friends by going to Rivet City with us and persuading the other smoothskins. It would make more sense than just getting shot at when we approached en masse."

Although excitement coursed through my veins, and I couldn't wait to start shouting how I would love to do it, I kept my calm. It would be best to let them think that I was doing them a favour and get something out it, more than just a free ride. "Give me 2000 caps and I'll do it! It is not as if you need them." I added.

He nodded and handed me 5000 caps!

"You're right, we don't. Desmond will tell you what to do, wear, and exactly what to say. Don't say anything to them that pops into your head at the time, understand?"

What could he possibly mean? I could easily negotiate my way out of a Deathclaw's stomach, just by "A pretty smile. That'll be enough, no?" I winked.

"Even if we had one, no. Desmond, take her inside the carriage and prep her, please."