Chapter 13

"Of all the bugs in all the world…"

"Why does it have to be scorpions?" Hartigan mutters to the boy and his friend as they reach the safe darkness of the cave. They pause just inside the mouth to catch their breaths and let their eyes focus. "I hate scorpions…"

"Yeah because it would've been better if some OTHER kind of vicious bug became gigantic and put humans on the menu..." Hartigan rolls his eyes while loading his gun.

"You know what I mean man, I was reading that scorps are one of the three most vicious bugs, the other two being Black Widows and… um, and… well I forget the other. But they're pretty damn vicious!"Red just smirks as he loads his own weapon. Hartigan looks over to the kid sitting near Red against the cave wall gazing out at the wasteland. "Well, what's you're name kid?" the boy of 17ish looks up wide-eyed an old colt revolver clutched in his hands.

"Will… William Skaullic." Hart cringes "my condolences on the name." He stows his combat rifle and draws his Ruger loading it. "Hm, lets see, you've survived your first caravan attack therefore you've earned the kindness of a new name. Now what to call you… Red?"

"Don't look at me…"

"How about 'Craven', that's got a nice ring don'it?" He grins to Red who only shakes his head.

"W-wow, that's really cool sounding – Craven. I could get used to being Craven." Red smirks.

"There's no getting used to it, you're already it." The kid perks up a bit. "Whatcha got there Craven?" the kid jumps to his feet bringing the gun to Hartigan. The older man takes the dirty gun and examines it then sighs. "Kid, this isn't even loaded… Don't carry it if you're not prepared to use it, a weapon can't help you if it's not loaded." He passes the empty revolver back to the kid jabbing him in the chest. "Load it, tell us when you're done." Hart walks over to Red. "Yeh old softy."

"I'm not the one that wanted to save the entire caravan…" Hart nods accepting the truth. "I give us 15 minutes till they're within sight of the cave. Unless we get lucky and a storm covers our tracks they'll track us right here."

"Right. Once the kid's loaded his pea-shooter we can go. You on point?"

"Got any StimPaks?" Hartigan reaches into the deep pockets of his long chocolate brown trench-coat pulling out 4 red and black capped tubes tipped on one end with short needles, each one is filled with a creamy orange solution (a StimPak is a rapid healing solution developed for military use in the war, in a fight they can mean the difference between life and death). Hartigan places the 4 StimPaks in Red's outstretched hand. "In that case yes."

"I'm ready." The kid sounds almost confidant. That'll be good, if he feels like a fighter maybe he'll survive. More importantly, maybe he won't get us killed.

"Right." Walking up to the kid Red looms over him "You will do everything we say, you will not make a sound unless we speak to you, you will not move unless we move and when we do you will shadow us."

"Remember kid, you're Craven the caravan guard, one of three survivors. You lived through ugly already but you're gonna see worse. Reign it in alright?" Hartigan thumps the Craven's forehead with a grin then turns stoic as he follows Red into the darkness. Reaching into his shirt the fiery haired man pulls up a simple silver ring strung on a leather cord around his neck, he kisses the tarnished metal letting it fall back behind his shirt.

Taking large strides Red moves forward. Removing his sunglasses he folds them with one hand stowing them in a pocket within his jacket. His gaze, more like a squint, is sharp as he listens for the tell tale sounds that he's dealt with before. His modified plasma rifle at the ready he makes two sharp twitches with two fingers out to the side of his gun, Hartigan readies himself. There is a vague rustling sound, like feet shifting through sand. Red leans against the cave wall practically sliding along it and the other two follow suit till they reach an opening to their right. After peering in Red slowly backs up. Leaning back to the Hart and Craven Red whispers "there are four Rad-Scorpions in there but they're pretty far in, if we're quiet they should miss us. Be sure to pick up your feet." The trio crosses the opening guns aimed at the distant threats, quietly they move on heading due north through the tunnels. Red feels a jab in his right shoulder, turning around he sees the kid about 10 feet back pressed against the wall with an old looking radscorpion walking casually down the corridor past him. The kid's eyes are wide as he stares pleadingly from them to the crocodile sized scorpion. In a moment the revolver falls from Craven's sweaty hand and the scorpion's stinger is buried in his shoulder. Red's plasma rifle fires a moment too late but leaves a hole in the creature's head. Reflexively it withdraws the stinger to strike again but Hartigan's combat Rifle severs the tail at the tip. The two men rush to the boy's slumped form kicking the hard carcass of the beast farther away.

"He's bleeding…" Red mutters pulling a med-pak from his pocket, opening the little package with a small whoosh sound the pressurized contents expand – medical gauze that he grabs and begins pressing over the boy's stinger wound. In the same moment Hartigan pulls one of the Stimpaks from his coat, removing the cap he plunges the short needle into the kid's arm. The kid gasps grasping wildly finally gripping one of each of their arms.

"… didn't see it… I didn't see it behind me… oh god is that my blood?" Red checks the wound, its not large or very deep, probably no more than 2 inches in. But the problem is the venom, all the antivenom kits are 4 miles back with the caraven wreckage.

"Shutup kid just breathe."

"Red!" Craven pulls on Red's coat desperately "Red don't let me die! I'm-mm sorry I took this job!" He gasps tears streaming down his dirty face "Yourr right mann…" He's beginning to slur his speech, this is getting worse fast.

"Shut up kid! Gorammit!" Red shouts frustration creasing his brow. Hart pulls another Stimpak but Red stops his hand.

"Red!"

"Don't waste it…" Red's voice is quiet, his unshaded eyes hidden in the murky darkness. Craven gasps a few times blood flowing more freely from the stinger wound. Hartigan understands, he's the only guy Red's ever known who's seen the horror of the wastes and is still somehow totally human. He's a good guy, I know this is gonna haunt him, but he recognizes the point of no return when he sees it. The kid mumbles something to his girlfriend I'm assuming, then slowly, gradually relaxes into silence.

"Time of death, 22:48…" Hartigan says standing to his feet and pulling a hand-sized leather bound notebook from his thigh pocket, he makes a note and in a few seconds places it back in his pocket. Red closes the kid's… Craven's eyes. Reaching into his clothes he removes the boy's gun, bullets, food items, any medical supplies he might have, and an engraved pocketknife. Red hands the knife to Hartigan who stows it next to his notebook. The sound of radcsorpions in the distance draws their attention. The arachnids smell the boy's blood. Reloading their weapons the two guards move along the corridor swiftly and silently not looking back at the mob descending on the corpse of Craven.

TBC…