Author's Note: After a long wait and an "Oh shit" type of ending for the last chapter, the new chapter is finally here. This one is 13 pages and kicked my ass for a while, but I finally finished it. Yay! Without further ado, I present to you the new chapter. Enjoy!
Wasteland Survival Part 18
The Slavers carried Breadbox's body out without a word. Jeanette was sobbing while Bleak rubbed her shoulder, watching the Slavers drag him out with a shocked look on her face. Bronson looked down at his feet, avoiding looking at the scene. Ray shook his head, Sarah looked on silently, and Jericho crossed his arms over his chest.
"Why the hell would he kill himself when we just finally got some semblance of a plan?" Sarah muttered after the Slavers were out of earshot, one of her perfect eyebrows arched with suspicion.
"The man had it hard here. It probably just finally got to him. Besides, he likely didn't even know we had a plan; I mean, he was deaf," Ray offered, looking at her with a shrug.
Sarah gave him a dubious look. "I know, but it just seems...off to me."
"There's nothing off about it. Old bastard said fuck it and took the easy way out. Fuck, I think I would too if I was old as shit, deaf, and a slave," Jericho put in bluntly.
"Jericho, have some damn respect. You already fit two of those anyhow," Sarah muttered back to him.
He gave her a look. "There's the Sarah I know. You haven't been insulting me that much; I was beginning to think that you might've actually taken a liking to me!" He said, giving his signature smirk.
"Me? Like you? You must be drunk," She laughed jokingly.
"I wish," He sighed loudly, exaggerating a sad look and poking out his lower lip in a mock pout.
Sarah laughed, lightly slapping him on the shoulder and going back to work on the hole in the concrete.
Ray smiled at their exchange. It was nice to finally see his friends smile for once, despite their dark circumstances. He watched Jericho give a genuine smile as Sarah walked off to get to work.
"Good job old man," Ray grinned to Jericho.
Jericho shrugged. "I needed to lighten up the situation a bit. Being a slave and having old men kill themselves in the place you have to sleep is pretty fucking dark. Plus, Sarah needed to laugh for once."
"Since when do you care about people's feelings? You going mushy on me?" Ray teased, grinning wider.
"Hey, I'm a sucker for a pretty girl. And watch your luck kid," Jericho said, trying to hide his own smile before lightly slugging Ray on the shoulder.
Ray snickered. He gave Jericho a nod goodbye before making his way over to help Sarah.
They worked in a mutual silence until a Slaver came over to take Ray and Jericho to repair the shelves at the bar. There was no explanation, as usual, but it looked as if someone had forcefully smashed into the shelves. Broken liquor bottles scattered the ground and the remains of the shelves, their various contents spilling out onto their assorted resting places.
...
Sarah continued to chip away as Ray and Jericho worked repairs again. She winced as she dropped the rock, noticing how its' grey was beginning to stain red. The rock had been irritating her hand for awhile, and it had finally broken her skin. She flexed her fingers, looking at her palm. There was a jagged line across her palm where the rock had been digging in. Blood slowly leaked from part of it, while the rest of the angry red wound remained on the verge of bleeding. She sighed in irritation. Never one to let a wound stop her from progress, she tore away some of the cloth that made up the bottom of her mostly white tank top and began tying it around her hand, covering the wound and cushioning her hand slightly.
She didn't like how it exposed more of her skin, hell she had already felt naked without her power armor, but she would rather have that than have her hand get infected from a little cut. She switched to her left hand for the time being, and continued chipping away at the wall. A shadow fell over her as someone approached where she was crouching. "What is it?" She asked without looking up from her work.
"It's me," Bronson responded, crouching beside her. "Want some help?"
"You sure? Oh never mind, I need all the help I can get," She said, handing him a rock.
He accepted the rock, smiling and looking up at her when their skin touched. Sarah gave an awkward half-smile and looked back at the wall, pulling her hand away from his lingering touch. He chipped distractedly at the wall, watching Sarah out of the corner of his eye, noticing where she had torn her shirt. His gaze slowly looked over the exposed skin of her fit stomach.
He cleared his throat, looking back at the wall and occasionally glancing over at her. She met his gaze, causing him to quickly avert his eyes and lightly blush. "Sorry about Breadbox," She said, brushing off his stare.
He shrugged. "Can't say I ever had much communication with the man. Jeanette was the only one that had the patience to talk to him. Well, kinda talk."
"Yeah, Bleak told me about how they communicated," She absentmindedly let her eyes stray to where Jeanette usually sat, noting that she wasn't there. "Where is Jeanette anyway?"
Bronson's eyes went wide and he silently thanked that Sarah wasn't looking at him as he quickly stammered an answer, "Oh, um, I saw her head into the shelter after that got his body out. She seemed pretty upset."
Sarah turned back to the wall, hammering away at it without looking at him, but noting his shaky tone. "Ah."
"So, yeah, uh, why don't we get off this dark subject. I heard one of the Slavers say you used to be in the Brotherhood? Were you pretty high-ranking?"
"Still am; and I do pretty well for myself there. I'm just on leave to help Ray with some things," Sarah responded, brushing some loose hair out of her face to look briefly at Bronson before looking back to the wall.
He nodded, his eyes skimming down her back to rest on her backside when she wasn't looking at him. "So, have you got a husband or a boyfriend or something back with the Brotherhood?" He paused, thinking of Ray and the way he always hovered around her. "Or here?"
"No. And I would recommend that you stop ogling me like a horny schoolboy," She responded flatly, glaring at him from the corner of her eye.
He quickly ran his eyes back up to her face, finding her green eyes boring intensely into his. He blushed furiously, coughing and looking away quickly. "I hope you aren't mad. I've just been in here for so long, and it gets lonely…in that way."
"I understand. I've dealt with recruits doing the same stuff," She uttered in response, giving a light shrug and looking back at the wall.
"Surely you've gotten lonely; either here or with the Brotherhood?"
She sighed in irritation. "Bronson, I tend to have more important things to worry about than whether or not I'll be able to get off anytime soon."
"What if you have free time and your mind wanders though?" He challenged.
She clenched her jaw, her mind wandering to what it would be like to smash his brain in with her rock. "I'm not discussing this with you."
"Come on. How long has it been for you? You could use some stress release. That's probably why you're so uptight. I could help; and I'm not bragging or anything, but I've heard I'm pretty good with my tongue," He grinned lecherously at her.
She stopped her furious chipping at the wall to turn to him. "Now that I think about it, I could use some stress release. You know what I find is really, really relieving?" She said lowly, giving a suggestive grin.
He grinned even wider, vaguely resembling the Cheshire Cat as he leaned closer to her, "Tell me baby; I'm into whatever you're into."
"Well, I find that smashing annoying, sex-depraved pricks heads in with a rock is very, very relieving," She husked, giving a smirk.
Bronson's eyes went wide, his hands coming up in front of him as he leaned back out of her personal space, "Whoa whoa, I'm sorry. You've just gotta understand. I'm a guy, it's been so long. Jeanette's a ghoul and Bleak's got that short hair so she must be a lesbian. You put a pretty lady like you in here, and I'm gonna hit on you."
To his shock, Sarah burst out laughing. "You think Bleak is gay because she has a shaved head?" She laughed even louder, dropping her rock.
"Well…yeah," He muttered, giving her a look.
Sarah managed to speak after her laughing outburst finally quelled. "Hair length doesn't determine sexual preference. Quite a few girls in the Brotherhood have shaved heads or short hair; and hardly any of them are gay. One of them is actually a pretty big slut."
He gave her a dubious look. "Really?"
She nodded, giving a 'duh' look.
"Huh…so…we aren't having sex then?" He asked.
"Get out of here you fucktard!" She hissed, throwing dirt at him.
He laughed, shielding his face and running back towards where he usually sat near the fence gate. She watched him go, lightly laughing and shaking her head. She looked over at the fence that separated the adult slave pen from the child slave pen. Bleak talked with the only girl from the child pen. She had a worried look on her round little face, and it seemed like Bleak was trying to console her.
Sarah's mind drifted back to Jeanette and Breadbox. Bleak, and now Bronson, had mentioned to her that she and Breadbox had their own ways of communicating, including writing things in the dirt and reading lips. Apparently, Jeanette and Breadbox had age in common. Jeanette was a Pre-War ghoul. She had seen the Great War happen, had watched as the atomic fire consumed the world and her loved ones.
Sarah lightly sighed, suddenly feeling bad for the woman. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose everyone and everything you ever had. Then become a ghoul; then a slave…
...
Ray placed another bottle on the newly made shelf before wiping some sweat away from his brow.
"We finally got a buyer?" A Slaver asked another.
"Looks like it. Eulogy's leading him to the pens. Wonder what poor bastard he'll get. I know that blonde Brotherhood chick is safe though."
Ray suddenly perked up his ears to their conversation, listening in on them while still organizing the liquor bottles on the newly finished shelf.
There was a pause from the two, followed by the flick of a lighter and an exhale. "Yep. Apparently Eulogy has got some kinda plans for her. Says she's special."
The other man sighed. "Wonder what he's got in mind…anyway, can I hit that cigarette?"
Ray stopped listening as the Slavers' conversation drifted elsewhere. He looked over at Jericho. "Did you hear what they were saying?"
Jericho's face looked even older in that moment, the stress and exhaustion showing in his face as he placed a bottle of Scotch on the shelf. "Yeah. If that asshole hurts her…"
"I know. We need to get out of here before he can do whatever he wants to do. I wish I fucking knew what he was planning."
"Well, think like the enemy. What would you do if you were a greedy slave driver with two sex slaves, who just so happened to stumble upon a beautiful Brotherhood of Steel elite?" Jericho responded.
"Well, he could ransom her back to the Brotherhood, but the Brotherhood would probably get Sarah back, then raze this place to the damn ground. Especially since her father is the Elder. And they're gunning for this place anyway. The fact that their leader has his daughter would just put them even higher on the Elder's shit list."
"Exactly. So, knowing Eulogy and what he apparently did to those two slaves of his, do you think he'll keep her as his own like the other two?"
Ray paled and nearly dropped the bottle that he was lifting out of the crate. "I don't even want to think of that happening. I can't think of her…brainwashed and submissive like them."
"Well you better. Because that's most likely what is gonna happen and we gotta prepare for it," Jericho said brusquely.
Ray shook his head quickly. "No. No it won't. We can't think like that. We just have to stay positive." He muttered quickly, placing a bottle on the shelf with slightly shaking hands.
Jericho sighed in irritation. "Stop your mumblin'. You need to accept this and fucking prepare for it. I'll tell you what I'm thinking later."
Ray bit his lip in stress. "Right."
They finished putting the bottles on the shelf and were ushered back to the pens where Eulogy and a man were walking away, the man looking rather frustrated and Eulogy clenching his jaw hard.
They waited for the Slavers to lock the gate behind them and leave before speaking to anyone. "What the hell was that guy so pissed about?" Jericho asked, sitting on a chunk of smooth concrete with a sigh.
"Dude wanted to buy Sarah and Eulogy told him she wasn't for sale right now. He started trying to talk Eulogy into selling her, and when he couldn't budge, the guy starting bitching him out," Bronson said nonchalantly, a faraway look in his eyes.
"See Ray? Those Slavers were right. And we need to discuss this, because my instinct tells me shit's gonna be going down soon," Jericho said in a 'told you so' tone as he looked up at Ray.
"Whoa now, what is going on?" Sarah asked, looking back and forth between Ray and Jericho.
Ray sighed. "It's Eulogy. He's planning to do something to you. We overheard the Slavers talking about it. We don't know what it is, but the Slavers were saying that Eulogy thinks you're special. Jericho thinks he's going to try to turn you into one of those girls that follows him around…"
"I'm pretty sure that's exactly what he will do. He said that Crimson and Clover were special, right before he took both of them for his own and warped them into those twisted bodyguards," Bleak put in.
Sarah stayed contemplatively silent, taking in the information with a stony face.
Ray shook his head quickly. "No. There's no way he would just take her like that. There's got to be a way to-"
"Ray, I've seen this happen two times already, and I know where it's going," Bleak said gravely, frowning at him.
He sighed in exasperation, walking over to the hole in the concrete and picking up a rock.
Sarah soon joined him, and they worked in solemn silence. Even though his back and arms hurt from his earlier work, he continued chipping, clenching his jaw through the pain.
...
They continued working as the sun took its bow at the horizon and the moon began to make its ascent into the blackening sky.
Ray sighed and stopped chipping, looking up to the star dotted sky. "Sarah…I'm sorry."
She stopped her work as well and looked over at him with confusion written on her face. "Why are you apologizing to me, Ray?"
"All this, it's all my fault. I should have just let you and Jericho live your lives and took the fucking bullets from Talon Company. If I had, we wouldn't be sitting in this damn slave pen in these stupid damn collars," He spoke in a deadpan tone, still looking at the sky.
"Ray, don't ever say that again," Her voice sounded strangely fragile in that moment, making him look over at her.
"Sarah…there's something that's been bothering me. When Eulogy took you out to see what your skills are, did he…rape you, or something?" His voice broke at the question.
Her eyes went wide in shock. "What? Oh god, no. Why would you think that, Ray?"
He sighed in relief, smiling slightly. "Thank God. When you came back crying, and your hair was down and all tousled, I thought he had raped you."
She shook her head. "No. He pulled my hair really hard and ripped it out of my ponytail. I fought with him and would've killed him if those girls in dresses hadn't got the drop on me," She sighed and rubbed her head, "Getting kicked with heels hurts…anyway, I just got a little roughed up, that's all. If he had raped me, he would be dead right now. Believe me," She grinned at him.
"I do. You are something to be reckoned with," He lightly laughed, before smiling at her, "Really though, I'm so relieved that you're okay."
"Well I'm glad you're at ease about that…and, I'm glad you showed any concern. It means a lot, really," She said, giving a warm smile.
He smiled back, blushing slightly. "That's just how I am. Always worrying about people I care about."
They exchanged another smile before quietly going back to work. They had managed to make a hole big enough for Ray to fit his head and one of his arms through, they were almost there.
...
Jericho, Bleak, and Bronson had turned in for bed hours ago, Jeanette having gone to bed far before any of them. Ray and Sarah soon joined them, arms and hands aching and blistering. Having only four ruined mattresses on the floor made for awkward sleeping arrangements; they tended to have a rotation for who slept on the mattresses and who slept on the floor. Ray let Sarah have the mattress for the night, and laid beside her on the floor. She fell asleep almost instantly, sleep claiming Ray soon after.