Author's Note: I must apologize for the seemingly increasing periods of time between my updates, but this chapter gave me a lot of trouble. Despite that, I' m satisfied with how it turned out! It's a bit longer than usual too, so enjoy! Thanks to all the favs/follows, it's getting hard for me to keep up with thanking everyone, especially with how long it's been since the last update. Now, enjoy the story!
Wasteland Survival Part 16
"I'm going to get outta this, and shove that gun so far up your ass you'll be spitting bullets out of your mouth!" Jericho bellowed at Cutter as the Slavers picked him up, holding his hands behind his back. She smirked in response, giving a mocking wave at his furious expression.
"Why don't you just make this easy and stop fucking squirming?" One of them asked in an irritated tone, tightening their grip on Jericho's wrists.
Jericho squirmed even more, managing to get one of his feet loose and kick the Slaver holding said leg in the gut. The man hunched over in pain, all the air leaving his lungs. "Get the Cattle Prod!" He wheezed, his face red and angry.
The men holding Jericho's arms dropped him, letting him slam face first into the dirt before the man on his left pulled a bizarre looking weapon from his hip. It was clearly jury-rigged. It was a long metal rod with a grip and some sort of battery pack on the handle, with wires connecting to a metal coil around the rest of the weapon. His thumb pushed a button on the handle and electricity crackled along the coil.
Jericho kicked the other man off his leg that was still captive before ramming his fist into the crotch of the man with the weapon they called the Cattle Prod. He jumped to his feet, giving the man on his right a mean left hook. The man with the Cattle Prod quickly recovered from becoming impotent, and swung the weapon into Jericho's back. There was a sick sizzling sound, and Jericho fell to his knees. He was unable to move for several seconds, but he was back on his feet in no time, swinging a powerful punch for one of the Slavers.
The man with the Cattle Prod roughly cranked a dial on the battery pack, the cruel weapon giving off a loud crackle as he did so. He gave several swings in quick succession to Jericho's back, holding them there long enough to give off cracks and pops as the energy transferred to Jericho, but going fast enough to do it multiple times. The heavy shocks were too much for him, dropping the larger man to his hands and knees. His breathing was ragged and he felt like his heart was going to explode.
He let himself fall to his stomach, fearing the shocks could be fatal on his aging heart. "Fine! You assholes fucking win!" He shouted, his voice dripping with venom. The crackling seized as the Cattle Prod was turned off and holstered. Rough hands gripped him again, tighter this time as he was carried to the slave pens.
...
"Did you hear that shouting? That sounds like Jericho," Ray says, his grey eyes meeting Sarah's green.
"What the hell is he up to?" She responds, looking at the gate.
Four bulky Slavers carrying Jericho entered the first gate, pausing to unlock the adult slave pen before swinging Jericho backwards for added momentum, and pitching him into the caged in area. Jericho hit the ground for the third time that day with a loud thud, dust and dirt puffing around him. The gate was closed with a metallic clang and locked as Jericho clambered to his feet.
He spit some dirt out of his mouth and dusted his clothes off. "Fucking assholes!"
"Never thought I'd say I'm glad to see you Jericho," Ray said, a smile breaking across his face.
"Seconded," Sarah grinned, patting Jericho on the shoulder.
"I know it's a happy family reunion and all…but what the fuck are we gonna do about these Slavers?" Jericho huffed, his eyes livid.
"Bleak and I have been speaking of the possibility of jumping the concrete wall over there," Ray said, pointing at the concrete wall that made up part of their cage.
"Won't work. Not with these collars on. If they aren't proximity armed, then they'll hit the button when they see we are gone," Sarah explained.
"So we just take a rock and smash the fuckers off!" Jericho said, grinning as if he had outsmarted her.
Sarah shook her head, loose strands of hair caressing her cheek. "Trying to remove them with brute force like that is…not smart, to put it politely. The only way to get them off is if we had someone very tech savvy, or good with explosives, to unarm them. I don't see any techies or bomb technicians here."
"But you're Brotherhood. They're obsessed with tech. Can't you do it?" Ray put in.
"I'm a Sentinel, not a Scribe. And there's no way I'll be blowing someone's face off while trying to figure it out."
Ray was silent, a thoughtful look on his face as he turned to sit against the wall.
"No ideas?" Jericho asked, looking at Sarah.
"Not yet. I'll need more time to think," She chewed her cheek in thought, rubbing her neck where the collar was already beginning to chafe.
Jericho nodded, walking over to the concrete wall, examining an opening blocked by a burnt out car.
A Slaver approached the gate, pushing bowls of questionable soup under the fence. "Squirrel Stew today…I think," He looked back up, seeing Jericho near the blocked opening, "Get the fuck away from there old man!"
Jericho scowled at him, resisting the urge to flip him the bird. As the Slaver walked away, Ray took one of the bowls, grimacing at the dark soup. "This is some nasty smelling shit!"
Bleak claimed a bowl for herself, sitting against the fence. "This is the worst, but it's not as bad if you hold your nose." She held her nose, taking a heavy sip from the bowl due to lack of eating utensils. She grimaced, but managed to stomach the slop.
Ray looked into the liquid, its sewage green color making his stomach churn. He shut his eyes tight, held his nose, and took an experimental sip. As the foul liquid met his tongue, he suddenly held the bowl away, spitting the soup on the ground and retching loudly. "Oh God! What in the fuck?!"
Bronson's laugh answered him. "Oh man! That was great!" He guffawed, nearly spilling his rations. Jeanette suddenly smacked him in the back of the head, giving him a scolding look.
"Sorry mom," He responded in a joking tone, grinning at her before taking a heavy sip from the bowl.
Breadbox silently watched the exchange with a smile, before quickly draining his soup. Jericho held his nose and chugged the stew, tossing the bowl away with a grunt of distaste.
Sarah looked at the stew with a dubious expression. "So…when do we eat again?"
"Now or never hon. They don't exactly have a schedule they feed us by. We went a week without eating before," Jeanette said sadly.
"Oh my God…" Sarah murmured, sympathy in her tone. She looked hesitantly at the soup before taking a heavy hit and struggling to drain the bowl. She let the bowl fall to the dirt, her face the image of pure disgust. "I wouldn't feed that to my fucking dog. I feel sick," She pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them.
"It's definitely going to bother you for awhile, but you get used to it," Bleak said.
Ray held his nose, taking a heavy sip from the bowl. He managed to keep it down this time, but he put the bowl on the ground. "Yeah…no. I can't do this." His stomach was already trying to force the liquid out. He'd eaten some foul things, but this was arguably the worst. "That is definitely not Squirrel Stew, more like straight shit stew."
She others couldn't help but laugh, except Breadbox, who silently wrote in a Pre-War book. A small smile touched his lips however, unperceived by the others.
"Amen to that! But it's a really bad idea to not eat. Shit stew or not, it's going to be days before we eat again, and Eulogy should be stopping by to assess you guys," Bleak explained.
"Assess us?" Sarah raised an eyebrow.
Bronson nodded. "Yeah, he assesses all the slaves when they first show up to see what you're good at. That way, he can prepare a fucking salesman speech to try to sell you to people or see if you meet someone's needs. We sell as bodyguards, sex slaves, manual labor, everything you can think of really."
"This is so fucked up," Ray says, suddenly angry, feeling that he failed at protecting his friends. He scowled at the ground, his own anger combined with the midday sun suddenly making him hot.
"Of course it is. But that doesn't matter because it's time to see what you can offer my clients," Eulogy's voice suddenly says from the gate. Ray looked up, squinting from the sun. "You're first pretty boy," Eulogy adds mockingly, smirking at Ray. Ray gave him an icy glare as he walked over to the gate. Eulogy opens the gate, allowing Ray to exit before locking the gate behind him. "And don't get any ideas. There are snipers watching, everyone here is packing, and I hold the control to that collar."
Ray silently rolls his eyes and lets the man lead him off to be assessed.
...
"Can you read?" Eulogy asked Ray as he watched him mock fight a battered mannequin.
"Yes," Ray panted as he demonstrated his fighting abilities to the other man.
"Good. Now take this knife and show me some of the weak spots on the body with it," Eulogy handed him a small butter knife.
"How am I supposed to stab it with this dinky thing?" Ray hissed, looking at the dull blade.
"It's called pretending. You must be stupider than Brahmin shit if you think I'd give you a real knife," Eulogy said smugly before laughing.
Ray clenched his jaw, stabbing at the neck of the mannequin before quickly stabbing the stomach. He darted quickly behind it, stabbing it in the kidney area.
"That's good. Some basic knowledge with knives. I want to try out some other weapons as well."
...
The assessment went rather quickly. Eulogy had him show how well he could fight using a hand to hand, a dull knife and machete, a plastic baseball bat, and finally tested his shooting skills with a BB gun. After confirming he could read, he shoved Ray back into the pen and took Jericho for his assessment.
"How'd it go?" Sarah asked Ray as Jericho was led away.
Ray shrugged. "Fine I guess. He wanted to know if I could read before testing my combat skills."
"I wonder if they'll kill us if we don't meet their standards. If they even have standards…" Sarah wondered aloud.
"I don't think they do," Ray muttered, looking at Breadbox before trailing his eyes to the pen of children.
...
Ray and Sarah were discussing possible escape plans with Bleak when Jericho was returned. "Okay Blondie, you're next!" Eulogy called to her.
Sarah stood, brushing dirt from her pants before hesitantly making her way to the gate. Eulogy's eyes lecherously took in her form with no shame. Sarah felt like setting the man's eyes up and spinning, but that wasn't the best idea. She clenched her jaw, giving him an icy look.
Eulogy smirked in response, holding the gate open for her and leading her to the training area.
Sarah felt his eyes watching her every movement, and it made her skin crawl.
...
"You're an impressive fighter, clearly highly skilled in hand to hand, melee weapons, and firearms. Have you had some sort of training?" Eulogy asked.
"I don't see why it matters. You know I'm good and that's all you need to know," Sarah responded numbly, shooting another bottle with the BB gun.
"True. But if you've had training with some faction or something, I'd like to know about it."
"I don't feel inclined to tell you shit," Sarah spat back, glaring daggers into him.
"You've got a dirty mouth." Sarah was sure if he smirked any wider his face would crack, if she hadn't cracked it for him at that point.
She said nothing, looking back the makeshift shooting range and shattering another bottle with ease.
"There's no way you were a merc. You're…something greater than that. Don't go breaking Ol' Eulogy's heart by playing the quiet game," He put a hand over his heart, giving a fake sad look to her, sticking out his lower lip.
"What don't you understand about I'm not telling you shit? Are you fucking stupid?" She snapped suddenly, her short temper getting the best of her.
Eulogy was suddenly in her face, gripping her tightly by her chin and forcing her to meet his eyes. "You don't talk to me like that, you fucking slut," He said lowly, his rank breath fanning over her face.
Planting her left foot firmly on the ground, she placed her right foot behind his, before punching him in the face and making him trip over her legs. He stumbled backwards, shock in his brown eyes when he was suddenly on the ground. She straddled him, wrapping her hands around his throat. He let out a growl of anger, grabbing for a Scoped .44 Magnum at his hip. She grabbed his arm, twisting it away and reaching for the .44 before something sharp kicked her hard in the back of the head and caused her to fall to the ground beside Eulogy. Something sharp pressed into the back of her neck, making her clench her teeth.
"No one touches Mr. Eulogy," A female voice warned lowly behind her. Sarah turned around, seeing two women in matching pink Pre-War dresses looking down at her. The sight before her was strange, and nearly comical. They dressed in pristine, bright pink Pre-War dresses with matching heels, yet they had short, almost boyish hair and Slave Collars around their necks.
The African American woman had her head shaved except two small strips that stood up and resembled devil horns, whereas the Asian woman had a single strip of unnaturally white hair that laid flat against her head, looking like a deflated Mohawk. They both had Chinese Officer's Swords, and the African American woman pointed her's at Sarah's throat while the other woman helped Eulogy to his feet. "You kicked her hard Crimson. If she got something knocked loose in her fucking head I'll knock something loose in yours," He hissed at the woman, despite her saving his life.
"I'm sorry Mr. Eulogy," She whimpered, looking at the ground.
"Sorry Crimson. You know I still love you," He smiled at her, but it just didn't look right. The girl's cheeks colored as he patted her on the head like a dog. The other woman glared at them with what looked like jealousy. Sarah watched the display with her mouth hanging open, trying to make sense of their relationship.
He turned back to Sarah, an angry snarl on his mouth. He grabbed her by her hair, ripping her head roughly backwards. "Now, tell me who you work for!" He shouted in her face, shaking her by her hair.
She cried out in pain as he nearly tore the roots out of her head. "I'm a Sentinel with the Brotherhood!"
"What?" He asked in disbelief, his grip loosening and his eyes widening.
"I'm Sentinel Sarah Lyons of the Brotherhood Of Steel," She hissed at him, still wincing at his grip on her hair.
He released her hair and pushed her to the dirt. "You're Brotherhood? I don't know if that's a curse or a god damn miracle, but it sure as shit makes you worth a fuck ton of caps! Hell, I might even keep you all to myself!" He said excitedly, his eyes lighting up.
The two women in the dresses exchanged a look of shock and hurt before glaring down at Sarah.
Eulogy hauled her to her feet, her hair coming out of the black hair-tie and spilling her golden curls to her shoulders. He smiled widely at her, gently touching one of the curls. "I definitely may keep you."
Sarah felt a wave of revulsion shoot through her stomach, slightly cringing away from him. "Don't be scared. I'll be real good to you," He smiled, something dark twinkling in his eyes. She looked away, scooping up her hair-tie as he led her back to the pen and ushered her inside.
The other slaves looked up at her entrance, some of them looking shocked. "Oh my God. Sarah, are you okay?" Ray said quickly, rushing to her as Eulogy left.
Sarah smoothed her hair, pulling it back into her usual ponytail and wiping tears from her eyes that had emerged from the pain of him pulling her hair. "I'm fine," Her voice cracked slightly.
Ray looked at her with concern and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "If something happened…please tell me."
"I'm fine Ray. He just…he's a bastard. But I'm okay. Let's go talk to Bleak about getting out of here, okay?" She gave a weak smile, trying to reassure him.
He nodded, giving an equally weak smile and following her over to the other woman.