READ ME!: Okay a few things you need to know before you start reading; first off this is now an M rated story. The reason it still says T up there in the corner is because, A: I'm to lazy too change it, and B: I didn't want the story to disappear from peoples search engines and for them to take to the streets rioting and setting police cars on fire searching for it, I simply cannot have that on my conscience.
And the other thing you need to know is that you have to listen to the playlist for this chapter while you're reading it, because, well, you'll understand when you click play. Let's just say the way the music has been timed to the writing in this chapter is pure evil genius on my part ;) As usual the link for the playlist can be found on my profile page.
January, 2278
God damn motherfucking son of a bitch asshole Raiders!
Wolfgang was struggling against his bonds; why he had thought surrendering to these lunatics was a good idea he would never know. They had run his caravan into the ground, killed the guards, and shot up his ride so it wasn't exactly like he had other options. Still, death by bullet was still better than death by rape or death by cooking fire depending on which mood these crazy fuckers were in; horny or hungry. He was still holding out hope that this particular group of assholes wasn't entirely bat shit crazy and would just take him and what was left of his caravan to Paradise Falls. Wolfgang still had a few connections with some of the less sociopathic slavers and could probably talk his way to freedom if that was the case.
"So whatcha reckon Cletus?" asked one of the Raiders to the apparent leader of the group holding Wolfgang and his caravan hostage.
Cletus, a fat ugly son of a bitch, but nonetheless built like a god damn tank, looked thoughtful for a while.
"Well let's see…there's some good eating on that one," he said pointing out a heavyset caravaner.
I fucking told Jimmy to lay off the sugar bombs; thought Wolfgang irately.
"Those two there ain't too bad on the eyes," Said Cletus, winking at two ladies in the group.
"And the rest oughta fetch a nice price at Paradise Falls," finished Cletus.
So three for three, thought Wolfgang, now if he could only manage to keep his mouth shut for a little while longer he would be home free; sadly that just wasn't in the cards.
"Hey Lard Ass, here's a new idea for you; how about instead of eating, raping, and generally doing all manner of unpleasant things to us; instead you go on a diet, go fuck yourself, and find a hobby that doesn't give you the appearance of being a fat, psychotic, dick."
Cletus's face turned an interesting shade of purple.
Wolfgang grinned, "Oh I'm sorry Jumbotron. Did the big bad words confuse you? Allow me to put it in simpler terms for you. How about you-"
The boot came out of nowhere and collided with the side of Wolfgang's head sending him sliding across the jagged rocks that covered the ground.
"Ouch Damnit! Didn't your mama ever teach you to use your words?"
A couple of Raiders grabbed Wolfgang by the shoulders and hauled him to his feet.
"Jesus Christ, and people call me crazy." muttered a Raider.
"Alright shit head," stated Cletus, walking up to Wolfgang.
"Here are your options; Option A, you can die with my cock up your ass, or Option B, you can die on my cooking fire; take your pick."
Wolfgang smiled, "What about Option C?"
Cletus was confused, "Option C?"
Wolfgang flashed a winning grin, "Yeah! You don't know about Option C? Well…allow me to enlighten you."
And with that Wolfgang rammed his forehead hard into Cletus's face shattering his nose and driving fragmented bone into his brain. Cletus crumpled like a sack of potatoes and fell to the ground dead. The entire camp stood in stunned silence for a few seconds until Wolfgang ruined it by opening his trap again.
"Fuck! That fucking hurt!" snapped Wolfgang, wanting to rub his forehead, but his hands were still tied behind his back and the Raiders were still gripping his shoulders. And upon remembering that fact the Raiders tossed him to the ground and proceeded to beat the living crap out of him.
I just knew it was too much to hope for one of those kill the leader take control of the group type gangs. Thought Wolfgang grimly in between the kicks and punches.
Wolfgang saw a blur movement out of the corner of his eye, and a man shrouded in darkness suddenly appeared behind one the Raider sentries currently watching Wolfgang getting his ass kicked and not doing his job. The Man's arms appeared around the Raider's head and the bastard crumpled to the ground shortly there after. The Man then proceeded to move on to the next sentry, moving with unnatural silence and speed. The Man approached the sentry and covered the Raider's mouth with one hand and with the other stabbed him in the kidneys, the lungs, and the heart with a combat knife, all within the span of two seconds.
The Man let go of the Raider and he collapsed to ground in a growing pool of his own blood. The last sentry dead and on the ground The Man moved on the group of Raiders who were standing around cheering on the rather one sided fight between Wolfgang and the two Raiders kicking the crap out of him. The Man was now close enough for Wolfgang to see he was about average size, maybe a little taller than most and sporting pre-war combat armor, a strong, muscular build, and a murderous grin that frankly terrified Wolfgang more than the Raiders did.
The Man grabbed one of the Raiders by the head, placing his hands on both sides of the freak show's skull, he twisted, and was rewarded with a sickening crack. Before the dead Raider had even hit the ground the Man drew a combat knife and approached another Raider from behind, cutting his throat open spraying blood across all his buddies. The Man then forcefully kicked the dying Raider into his buddies knocking a couple to the ground.
It was at this point that the Raiders realized something was wrong; two went for their assault rifles, The Man seeing this, twirled the combat knives in his hands, testing the balance, then hurled them at the two Raiders. There was an interesting wet crunching sound as the Raiders fell to the ground, the handle of a knife sticking out of each of their foreheads.
The grin The Man gave the five remaining Raiders would have sent a smart person screaming for their mother; unfortunately for the Raiders the word smart didn't enter into their genetic make up. One of the remaining Raiders had managed to get a grip on their hunting rifle and aimed it shakily at The Man who was standing not three feet away watching the Raider fumble around the trigger with a look of cruel amusement on his face. The Man lashed out taking hold of the rifle's barrel, in his surprise the Raider opened fire, but The Man had shifted the direction of the barrel so that it was pointed at the ass of a Raider who was kneeling on the ground desperately trying to grab an assault rifle off his dead buddy's body.
"YEEEOOWWW!" screamed the Raider, jumping a couple feet into the air and clutching his ass like some kind of cartoon character.
The Man ripped the rifle from the Raider's hands, then smashed the butt of the gun into his face, breaking his jaw and driving him to his knees. The Man then flipped the gun in the air catching it with his other hand; he took hold of barrel of the rifle and gripped it like a golf club, and then swung the butt of the rifle into the kneeling Raider's head, snapping the dumb bastard's neck like a dry twig.
The Man dropped the rifle to the ground and turned to face the four remaining Raider's who were beginning to get the impression that they were slightly out of their league in this fight. Fight or Flight response kicking in one of the Raiders came charging at The Man with a board that had a rusty nail sticking out of it. The Man just stood his ground still grinning that same extremely unsettling smile. The Raider swung the board with all his might at The Man's head; unfortunately he needed to be just a little mightier. The Man caught the board in one hand and looked the Raider directly in his eyes, and upon seeing into those orbs of murderous rage the Raider had an "Oh Shit," moment. Unfortunately the moment came just as The Man's boot connected with his chest, shattering his sternum and driving a rib into his heart.
The Raider The Man had kicked went flying through the air and landed on top of Wolfgang's truck. Wolfgang was forgotten at this point; the two Raiders who had formerly been beating the crap out of him had grabbed their rifles and were opening fire. The Man, nail board still in hand, danced around the Raider's crappy marksmanship, jumping onto an overturned mail box and leaping onto Wolfgang's truck landing next to the twitching body of the former owner of the nail board. From there he made another leap landing behind the shooting Raiders. The Man snapped the board in half over his knee then walked up to the Raiders who were too busy pissing their pants to line up a proper shot. The Man then proceeded to play whack-a-mole with the Raiders' screaming bodies for a full six seconds before the sorry assholes stopped emitting noise.
The Man dropped the bloodied pieces of ply wood to the ground and walked over to Raider with the bleeding ass who was trying to crawl away from the carnage.
"You know," said The Man speaking for the first time as he approached the Raider who was now trying to crawl faster.
"Under normal circumstances it would disturb me how much I'm enjoying myself right now," said The Man thoughtfully.
The Man suddenly broke out laughing, "But hey! Nothing is normal anymore! So…I guess I really don't give a fuck!" said The Man, filling the area with demented laughter.
The Raider started sobbing as The Man got closer.
"This really isn't a good day to be you is it?" asked The Man, coming to a stop next to the Raider, and placing a boot on the pathetic creature's head.
"Please! Please! Don't!" screamed the Raider.
The Man shrugged his shoulders, "Like I said; bad day to be you."
The Man slowly increased the pressure on the Raider's head until there was a loud crack followed by a wet squish and the screaming stopped.
The Man then walked over to the two Raider's who had his combat knifes sticking out of their foreheads and pulled them out; using one of their shirts to clean the blades of brain matter. Following that The Man walked over to where the caravaners were tied up and watching his approach with absolute terror at the thought of what he might do next.
The Man knelt next to where Wolfgang was on the ground, groaning, and coughing up blood.
"I heard what you said to Chief Jackass; it tickled me a little, you got some heavy balls standing up to those hillbillies.," said The Man in a deadpan voice, cutting Wolfgang's bonds.
The Man addressed the rest of the caravanners, "You folks alright?" he asked.
The group was still in a deep state of shock over The Man's somewhat epic entrance but they still managed to nod their heads.
"I'll be with you momentarily," said The Man.
The Man helped roll Wolfgang into a sitting position then unhooked a canteen from his waist and tipped some water into Wolfgang's mouth. Wolfgang coughed and spluttered up most of it but was still grateful for every drop he managed to keep down.
The Man analyzed Wolfgang's injuries with the eye of someone who had seen a lot of bloodshed in his lifetime.
"You're fucked up, but you'll live. I can treat these injuries myself but it might be better if you get a doc to set the broken bones instead; as it will decrease the chances of them healing wrong and you gaining a freakish appearance," said the Man in a calculating voice.
The Man turned to the rest of the tied up caravaners, "Is there a doctor in the house?" he asked.
One of the caravaners, one of the women who had caught Cletus's eye, spoke up, "Yes, me."
The Man walked up to her and cut her bonds, she then rushed over to Wolfgang while The Man proceeded to free the others.
The doctor had pulled a medical kit from the cab of one of the shot up trucks and went to work treating Wolfgang's wounds. Once Wolfgang felt like he could speak without passing out he turned his head so that he faced The Man and asked the question he wanted to know the answer to more than he had ever wanted to know the answer to anything in his life.
"Who the fuck are you?"
The Man chuckled, but this time it wasn't so maniacal.
"Captain Jason Wolfe; United States Army Special Forces."
"Though given the current state of things I suppose you can call me…an Army of One." said Jason, smirking darkly.
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A couple of the male caravaners were standing around Jason's hover bike, polishing the metal with a rag and looking at the piece of technology with worshipful eyes. The display of man on machine love made Jason feel a little more at home in the world; it was exactly how the guys in Jason's old unit would have reacted had he drove the bike on base to show it off.
Nobody spoke to Jason as he ate his dinner; a large juicy brahmin steak and a tall mug of beer the grateful caravaners had cooked up for him. The steak tasted just like the cows back home, except maybe a bit more lean and stringy, but that was actually to Jason's liking. The beer on the other hand tasted like fermented rat piss, but beer was beer so he drank it down anyway. Jason finished up his steak and put his plate and mug down on the ground and let out a contented sigh; it was good to eat food again after a 200 year diet of cryogenic chemicals and FEV.
"I realize you may have a few questions for me, I have some for you too. So how about we get down to business." Deadpanned Jason to the group seated around him.
"What's the political situation out here? Who's in charge?"
Wolfgang actually laughed out loud at that question, "Well as to who's in charge there is a couple of opinions on that matter; everyone likes to think they're King of the Wastes, but in truth it's pure fucking anarchy. And the political situation? Well that's a little complicated but I'll try and make it simple anyway. On one hand you have the settlements; places like Canterbury Commons, Megaton, Rivet City, and Black Water, there are more but we're trying to keep it simple. The settlements provide pockets of security and shelter from asshole Raiders, Slavers, and Super Mutants."
"You also have the Caravan Traders such as myself; we try to make sure the settlements keep stocked up on supplies, like medicine, food, and ammo to shoot holes in any bastard who tries to take it. A job that gets increasingly harder every year thanks to the booming Raider population,"
"Next up are the Raiders themselves; crazy fucking assholes who want nothing more that to steal your shit, kill you, and generally just make your life plain fucking miserable."
"After that you got the Slavers. Now what can I say about these colossal jackasses? Basically they'll slap a collar on anything that moves and sell the poor dumb son of a bitch to the next asshole who comes along."
"But when all is said and done there are really only two major players out here in the Capital Wasteland. The Brotherhood of Steel who spend their time shooting Super Mutants, Raiders, and Eden's Bastards in the ass and providing fresh clean water to the Wasteland; a bunch of god damn heroes in my book. The other major power is the Enclave; no one really knows a whole hell of a lot about them, but they're lead by some psychopath calling himself "President" John Henry Eden, and they have access to the most advanced technology anyone out here has ever seen."
Jason's eyes narrowed; so the Enclave was still around huh? Guess Chase wasn't able to clean up his fucking mess after all. But then Jason relaxed and a smile spread across his face. No big deal really, just means more people I get to add to my list.
Wolfgang decided it was his turn to ask a question, "When you say you're with the United States Army you mean..."
"I mean I was frozen in the year 2077, and woke up about 20 hours ago to find that my world had been destroyed, all the people I care about are dead, and that I was betrayed by the same son of a bitch who promised me we were going to stop all this," Jason gestured to the crumbling ruins that surrounded them, "from happening."
Wolfgang was contemplative; on a normal day he would have written the man off as a Loony Toon; but what the fuck about this day was normal?
"How did you do what you did to those Raiders? I've never seen a fight like that in my life,"
Jason waved a hand dismissively, "Years of taking my daily vitamins and a lot of practice killing much braver, better trained, and more disciplined opponents."
Jason didn't feel the man needed to know what exactly was in those vitamins so he didn't elaborate any further.
"Two more questions; where can I find the Enclave, and have you ever heard of Vault 112?"
"There are Enclave outposts all over the Capital Wasteland and I've even heard about an entire base full of those bastards somewhere in the mountains west of DC. But what the hell is Vault 112? The only Vaults I know of out here are Vault 101 and Vault 77. Vault 101 is run by some girl named Amata; and the people there only recently opened up trade with the Wasteland so I don't know a lot about the place. And Vault 77 is run by a bunch of scientists who stumbled across the place a few years back, weirdly enough when they found it was empty and abandoned, except for a crate of puppets of all fucking things."
"That answers all my questions for now," said Jason politely.
If no one had heard of Vault 112 then chances were Braun was still down there just waiting for Jason to pay him a visit.
Wolfgang still had one question left that had been nagging at him for a while now.
"Why did you do it? Why did you save us?"
Jason raised an eyebrow, a little taken back by the question; truth was he hadn't really thought about it he just acted on instinct. With twelve years in the military and combat on five continents you see a lot of dead civilians; and once you see the burnt mutilated bodies of a dozen or so kids laying in the ruins of a bombed out elementary school, unless you're a complete psychopath, the instinct to protect innocent people in danger becomes second nature pretty damn quickly. Of course that's not really not the kind of thing you can explain to anyone, so Jason was still at a loss as to how to answer the question.
"Call it a hobby, some people knit sweaters, others jog, I save irritating assholes who ask too many questions," replied Jason dryly.
Wolfgang laughed out loud, "Fair enough, this is me fucking off," said Wolfgang holding up his hands.
"Hey! I got a signal!" shouted one of the caravaners who had been working on repairing a radio that had taken a bullet during the fight.
"This is Three Dog! Bow Wow Wow! Broadcasting live from the ruins of DC bringing you the news and telling it to you like it is! And now children! Music!"
"Iiiiii don't want to set the woorld on fiiire…."
Jason groaned, "Jesus I hate that song, my Grams used to play this shit non-stop when I was a kid."
Wolfgang grinned, "I thought this was cutting edge back in your day?"
Jason shook his head, "Maybe for some people, the ones caught in 1950's comeback trend. I was always more into the underground scene; rock n' roll, blues, jazz. My sister on the other hand had a huge fetish for this crap, this and folk music, don't even get me started on how many times I was forced to listen to Geronimo fucking Jackson growing up."
Jason suddenly realized he had spoken of his sister in the past tense without even realizing it; she was dead now along with everyone else he had ever known. Suddenly his irritating big sister didn't seem so irritating anymore; in fact right now, he'd give anything to go back in time and have one last conversation with her, he'd left a message on her voice mail before he went under, telling her that he loved her and he'd see her soon…he really hoped she listened to it…even if the last part had been the mother of all lies…
Everyone was quiet as the song finished up.
"I should probably be getting to bed," said Jason quietly standing up.
Jason walked over to where the caravaners had set up a tent for him, "Wake me up if something needs killing," he shouted over his shoulder.
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Jason tried to close his eyes and get some sleep but whenever his eyes got close to closing he heard the shuffling of rocks a quarter mile away from camp and reached for his Magnum; which he decided that in this Brave New World would always have be within arm's reach. His new and improved hearing was turning out to be a real bitch, Jason had been resting his head on the pillow and listening to the scampering and breathing of animals both small and large that had come out of their burrows to hunt. The unwanted soundtrack was starting to piss him off, he continually heard the squeals of animals caught in the jaws of something higher up the food chain, and at one point was even forced to listen to some weird ass honking mating call about a mile away for the better part of an hour, in fact Jason had just resolved to track down and murder the creature when it finally stopped. The end result of all this background noise was to put Jason in a permanent state of edginess.
He was so engrossed in the task of trying to shut his brain up that he almost didn't sense the approach of one of the women in the group; at least he assumed it was a woman the footsteps were too light to be anything else. The entrance of his tent peeled back and the pretty doctor who had patched up Wolfgang slipped inside. She was very attractive even by Jason's admittedly high standards; she had flowing red hair, gorgeous eyes, and a few other features that Jason was sure had all the men in the caravan lusting after her.
Jason raised an eyebrow, "Need something Doc?"
The woman smiled, "Call me Jessie," she said softly.
Jason smiled back politely, "Okay, Jessie, is there something I can help you with?"
Jessie cocked her head to the side for a moment and looked thoughtful, "Well now that you mention it…"
Jessie pulled her shirt over her head revealing the second most beautiful sight Jason had seen all day; after the hover bike.
Jessie fell on top of Jason grabbing a hold of his head with one hand and pushing her tongue into his mouth…after a while she pulled back smiling.
"Were you chewing watermelon gum a little earlier?" asked Jason curiously.
Jessie rolled her eyes, I take off my shirt and throw myself on top of him, and that's all he has to say?
"Guilty as charged," she winked at him.
"I thought you might have been," said Jason casually.
Jessie leaned into his ear
"Want another taste?" she asked nipping at him.
Jason smiled, "I appreciate the offer Doc, really I do…but I'm going to have to decline"
Will this is something new, thought the doctor.
Jessie burst out laughing, "Wait a minute, allow me to see if I'm interpreting this situation correctly…you are turning me down?"
"As little sense as that might make; that is the case," replied Jason.
Jessie rolled into a sitting position, "Well well Cowboy, I do believe you're in danger of damaging a girl's ego," she said lightly.
Jason grinned in spite himself, "Something tells me you'll bounce back,"
The doctor smiled down at him, "It's too bad…you're really not like anyone I've ever met before."
"Well, Mama always said I was special," replied Jason.
Jessie laughed, "Oh you're definitely…'special' Cowboy,"
Jessie leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, "I wanted to express my gratitude in a much more…gratifying way, but seeing as how you're not in the mood…will you take a thank you and a kiss goodnight instead?"
Jason smiled, "Gladly, but you don't have to thank me; I needed to let off some steam and apparently Raiders make for a good outlet around here."
"So do I; you should have saved a little steam for me," said Jessie.
Jason smiled, "Maybe next time," he said mildly.
Jessie snorted, "Wow awkward," she said, rising to her feet.
"Well…not for me," replied Jason, with a grin.
Jessie kicked him and he gave an exaggerated groan.
"Night Cowboy," she said pulling her shirt back on.
"Night Doc," replied Jason watching her leave.
I may just come to regret that, he thought with some dejection.
Jason closed his eyes and a few minutes later he fell into a deep sleep, dreams of mushroom clouds, lifeless cities, and dead friends, dancing through his head.
Author's Note:
Okay a few things I should probably explain. First off for the purpose of this story Raven Rock and John Henry Eden are still alive and kicking; that's because John Henry Eden is quite frankly too awesome and chilling a character for me to not have him in this story; and since he's attached to Raven Rock they're sort of a package deal. Secondly, Jason is not gay despite all outward appearances, he's just severely damaged goods and murdering everyone on his list of people to kill is a bigger priority for him right now than sex; I know, twisted right? Oh and this might come as a shocker to some but the Wolfgang in this chapter is Crazy Wolfgang from the game. I just felt that if a man is going to be crazy it should show in his actions and not his name. The same holds true of bad assery; the people who call themselves bad asses are as a rule NOT bad asses, though obviously I am the exception that proves this rule ;)