((Chapter heading from Maker from the DA:I tavern songs.))
Chapter 3
The Dragon's Crooked Spine
It had happened horribly fast. The Red Rocket truck stop calling for help, sudden silence, and Deacon and Kalyna had rushed off to the rescue. They had expected raiders or mutants. They found deathclaws. Five of them. Two severely wounded by the turrets protecting the settlers and dying. One busy tearing down a building. Two busy eating settlers. It was those two they attacked.
When Kalyna had decided that power armour made her invincible, Deacon wasn't sure. He'd lured one of them off towards the turrets, making sure he didn't get hit, when he heard the other roar its anger. The next thing he saw was a metal figure, being thrown like a toy to crash with a horrible sound against a rock. The deathclaw followed, being torn down by the turret. Its body buried Kalyna underneath it.
For a moment, Deacon stood frozen with terror. Then he screamed, sounding inhuman even to himself, and ran towards the thing, not caring that there was one more of the creatures. To reach him, it had to run right into the line of fire of the turrets, but he didn't think he'd have been able to stay away if that wasn't the case.
The left arm of the power armour looked out from underneath the dead animal. Deacon gave a cautious tug. Pointless. 'Whisper! Kalyna, do you hear me? God, please, say something.'
'I hear you.' Her voice was muffled. He prayed fervently that this was only because of the thing on her and not because she lacked the strength. 'Get Curie, Deacon. Fast.' She managed to worm her way out from underneath the deathclaw, the power armour giving her the necessary muscle. Deacon didn't wait for her to make it out. He ran to the radio station, which was thankfully covered by the turret. If that was by design or coincidence he wasn't sure, but he was extremely grateful. He stammered a call for help to Sanctuary and raced back to Kalyna.
She was fully outside now. The chest piece of her power armour was dented. Deeply. Fear swamped Deacon as he watched her turn around until she lay face down on the ground. 'I'll get you out,' he said quickly, opening the mechanism. He pulled her out carefully, frightened to do more damage, but desperate to have her outside the contraption when Curie arrived.
Kalyna's breaths were shallow. There was no blood, but that didn't say anything. She might be bleeding internally, and given the shape of the damned armour, she probably was. Well. If she hadn't been in it, he'd be holding a mangled corpse. He pushed the thought firmly away. 'Whisper, hold on, Curie's coming. Just a few minutes.'
'Trying. Breathing's a bit painful here.'
'We've got a pact. You can't leave me.'
'Deacon, promise you'll take care of Shaun if this goes badly.'
'Whisper, I …' He swallowed. He couldn't lie, not now. He couldn't promise something he had no way to influence. 'I will. But you need to stay with me. I can't do this without you, I'll fail miserably.'
Her hand gripped his hard. 'That pact was never serious to begin with, but that won't matter if Curie doesn't come soon.'
Deacon licked his lips. 'It's bloody serious for me.' He felt the burning in his eyes. 'I meant it, although I know you never believed it. I still do.'
'Really? Do you, Deacon? This isn't a joke?'
'No. God, no.'
'So many ways this could go wrong. I could never kill you, even if …' She swallowed the rest of the sentence.
'You would if it's deliverance. As would I. But we could talk to Curie for some sort of failsafe way.'
'Deacon, that sound?'
First he thought she was slipping, but then he heard it, too. Footsteps, powerful, lumbering ones, distant but approaching fast. 'Strong! Strong, over here!' He yelled, voice cracking with panic. The huge green shape appeared from behind a building. 'Grab her, let's go meet Curie.' He kissed the top of Kalyna's head. 'You'll be all right. Strong'll carry you and we'll meet Curie on the way. You'll be all right. Won't you?' That last sounded timid even to himself.
A small laugh emerged from Kalyna. 'If I'm not dead yet, I'll make it to Curie. Thank you, Deacon. My hero.'