Butch POV
I haven't seen a single Wasteland creature yet, which I feel to be odd. I thought things that wanted to kill you were everywhere. Guess Kate and those Megaton weirdos were over exaggerating. So, that means that my travels are going well so far. I'm not sure how much further it is now, but I feel like something's about to change. For the better, for the worse? I can't tell. I've been following the directions Meatloaf gave me. Now I can see an overpass up ahead. That's not what makes me slow down. There's these metal bar things sticking up outta the ground… with blood on them? There's a skeleton hangin' up there! I wanna look away, but can't seem to move my eyes an inch.
I notice a strange color, and I squint to look closer, trying to see what it is. It looks like a really buff man. But big. Like twice my size. He's standing by a fire and when he turns my direction, I get to look at his face. I wished I never had. My eyes widen, and as much as I wanna move—to get to cover, safety—I can't make my legs move. There suddenly pops up another one. They look identical. Twice the fear is installed into me, now that there's two. Not to even mention what they're doing. One is cutting some kinda meat into pieces, while the other one hangs those pieces in net bags.
I can finally feel my legs, so I take advantage and run as fast as they will allow me, almost tripping on a rock in the process. If I was to do that, they'd see me for sure. I didn't wanna find out if that meat was human by me becoming the meat they chop and hang. You might have to improvise a little bit, Gob had said. Well, I was definitely gonna have to now, cause I ain't getting close to those things for crap!
As I get closer to the bridge that put me on this side of the river, I think, I should go back to Megaton and just live there. It was Kate's house, right? She'd have to come back at some point. She had to. But that would mean that I wouldn't be blazing my own trail in the world. Did I crawl out of a vault to trade it for living in a small, overpopulated, unfriendly-natured, sad excuse for a town? I don't think so. I need to find Kate myself. If I almost get killed in the process, so be it.
But before I come to the bridge, there's a piece of road that juts off the left. It's mostly covered in rubble, but it's there. It seems to head in the direction I need to be going, so I take it. Walking as fast as I can, I take out one of my two water bottles and drink half of it. I need to save this if I'm gonna live for very long out here. So I put it up for later use. I look up at the sky, and the sun beats down onto my face. It's so hot today. The vault never got this hot. Why would it? It'd be stupid for someone to set the temperature this warm on purpose.
With some broken down buildings on my left, and the river on my right, I continue forward as I see a big statue-like thing of three men going into war. Must be some kinda memorial for a Pre-War war. Maybe even the War. Then there's a familiar sound. One I do not like at all. I can hear the wings of radroaches up ahead, and it sounds like more than a couple. I slow my pace to a creep, and look to see if my ears might have mistaken the noise. But I knew it too well, and was right. Four radroaches sit together in a loose looking circle, like they're having a council meeting of sorts. I feel like running and screaming until I can't hear that disgusting noise anymore, but if I was truly going to be a Wasteland survivor, I'd have to suck it up and just deal with it. So, I walk forward raising my gun and take aim at the suckers. Bang: One down. Bang: Two down. Another three shots and they're all layin' there dead. I actually did it! I mean, of course I did it. I can do anything, I think as confidently as I can.
I go around a tall building with a lot of warning signs of getting shot for coming too close to it. I pass under a big bridge with severely weathered posters on the side. I keep going and now the water is just a few feet away to my right. I'm curious how it feels out here, so I step up to the edge and kneel down, skimming my hand over the top. It feels dirty. Just as dirty as it looks—I can't even see to the bottom to judge how deep it is. But it is getting dark, so that may be part of it. I've been out here for almost eight hours, according to my Pip-Boy. Was I anywhere close to it yet? Gob said it may take a few days. But he also made it sound like the freeway lead almost directly to it. I could be just around the bend, or it could be a hundred miles away still. I can't really go on what he said now. Hopefully he at least pointed me in the right direction. If I never found it, but made it back to Megaton, his head was going to be on a plate. I have to keep going. You got this, DeLoria. Tunnel Snakes don't give up!
As I climb some steps, I notice a group of five men standing by a tree in an open area. Might'a been some kinda plaza before the War. They hear my approach and turn their heads in my direction. Everything about them screams dangerous. But I try to ignore this feeling as I go closer to them. I need to get to Rivet City, one way or another. And this way seemed best. Until now.
The one that looks like he's the one in charge naturally calls out to me, "Where you headin'?" I subconsciously decide lying to them would be best.
"That way, obviously." I point my finger forward. By the look on his face, he didn't appreciate my answer.
"I meant, what are you doing this far out of the city? We haven't seen anyone in a long while around here." His eyes drop to my clothes. "And what on God's brown earth are you wearing?" Unless I wanted to tell him that I was an alien, it's seems best to tell him the truth on this one.
"A vault jumpsuit," I say. His eyebrows shoot up.
"Vault-Boy, huh?" He smiled at the man next to him.
"Look. If you don't mind, I'll just be going. I'm kinda in a hurry." I come within a few feet from one of the turds when he reaches his hand out, and puts it on my chest, stopping me.
The leader guy talks again. "What are you gonna do in Rivet City? That's clearly your target." At least it seems that I am going the right way.
"I'm looking for a friend," I say curtly, glaring at the man with his hand still on me.
"Well, maybe your friend came to our town. Better place to live than that rusting tub," he jabs his finger behind him. "Why don't you come back with us to Paradise Falls? Maybe you can find them there."
"What if I don't want to?" I back away from handsy-man to get some space in case I need to get outta here quick.
Leader-dude gets a smirk on his face. "I don't think you have much choice." I get a burst of sudden courage and draw my 10mm at his head, but this makes the other four raise their own guns. And they're a lot bigger than mine. "Why don't you drop your toy pistol, Vault-Boy? You're clearly outgunned here."
"You first," I say as harsh as I can manage, but it comes out sounding more like a plea.
Leader-dude laughs. "I don't think that's gonna happen. Listen, kid. This is how it's gonna play out. You're gonna give me your pistol, and put on one of our wrist straps. You're gonna follow us back to Paradise Falls and live there in a pin until someone decides to take you home, like the dog you are. Got it?"
"What if I don't want to?" I ask again, but with less bravado, and more submission this time.
"Then you'll just die. And then you're friend will never get to see you again. Alive, that is." He starts to walk over to me. I still have my gun trained on him, but I couldn't pull the trigger if I wanted to. I'd be a dead man in point two seconds. He's standing in front of me now, and reaches to grab my pistol. I can't fight him about it. I'd be dead after a stunt like that. Looks like it's surrendering to them or death now. "Since you're a vault dweller, I'mma guess you don't have any more weapons, do you?"
"No," I quickly spit out. A little too quick, maybe making it obvious that I do. But he believes me, and my switchblade is safe. For now.
After he puts my gun into the waistband of his pant, he pulls out a leather strap and fixes it around my wrists, then he ties me to one of those freaky looking two-headed cows. The group start going the way I just came from, taking me farther from Rivet City, from Kate possibly. A few minutes pass, and I'm curious, so I ask, "I guess I'm not going to 'live' in Paradise Falls, am I?"
"Oh, you are," one of the other henchmen answer. "Just in one of the slave pins. Hope you got used to claustrophobia in that vault, Vault-Boy."
"So, I'm gonna be a slave? For who?"
"I don't know," Leader-dude replies. "Whoever comes by and decides to pay the right price for your head. I don't care who it is or what they plan for you, as long as I get my caps." The rest of the trip is silent. We get to a cemetery located behind a gutted out church. I'm guessing we're close to their slave camp because the men start to get antsy, walking faster than before, and even leaving me behind them. It's now or never, Butch!
Just because I have this weird wrist thing on, doesn't mean I can't get something outta my pocket. So, I go for my cherished switchblade. I cut through the rope that ties me to the cow-thing with ease. If this rope was in any better condition, I'd be screwed. I'd manage to turn my blade around and cut through the leather of the strap. Next is the guy closest to me. He's about four feet ahead. I silently fill the gap between us, and shove my blade into his head right above his ear; he drops with a small thud, which is ignored by his comrades. It's a good thing they're so far spread from one another. I repeat this action three more times, and walk as close to Leader-dude as I can without being detected. "Hey, Jackhammer? You still wanna buy that AK off me?" Silence. "Hey, meathead, I'm talking to you!" He turns around to find my switchblade in his face, with a smug grin on mine.
"Your friends aren't anywhere in sight. And you see my knife has blood on it. Add two and two, pal. What does that mean?" My grin grows wider as a faint look of horror comes into his eyes.
"How did you…?" Is all he can manage before I stick my switchblade straight into his throat, causing a gush of blood to squirt onto me.
"Good try, pal," I say as his body drops. I can almost see his evil-spirited soul slip from him, rising before disappearing into vapor. I flip him over onto his stomach and retrieve my 10mm. I turn to the cow and smack its behind. "Go on! Get!" It takes off running like it understands that it's free now.
I try to follow my way back as exactly as I can. I come across a couple of big hairless rodents. Mole rats, I guess they're called. A clip of shells later and they're laying lifeless. How many things have I killed today? Those radroaches, those slavers, and now these mole rats. I hope that living out here doesn't turn me into a killing machine, but I should expect it so it doesn't surprise me when it eventually happens, I suppose.
As I get around a place called the Chryslus Building—according to a sign—when I see this massive thing. It looks like a giant radscorpion. It turns its massive body around and seems to be looking at me. Then it breaks into a sprint, heading right for me. I pull out my gun and take aim, running in reverse as its advance comes quicker. I've used up three and a half clips, when I trip backwards over a rock and start tumbling down a hill, dust and dirt caking itself into my hair, and making my jumpsuit filthy. When I finally land on my back at the foot of the hill, I frantically look around for the beast. I find it about ten feet away, still coming straight for me. I put three rounds into its face, and it stops, slumping to the ground in departed resignation. How the heck do things get so big and ugly out here?
The sun's just about to go down again. That makes three days being out here. I'm feeling really tired, so I decide it'd be best to take a little bit an' relax. I've been through so much since comin' outta the vault, and I haven't taken much time to rest. My eyelids are drooping, and my legs are aching really bad. As I get closer to the river, I see a Metro station and recognize the area. I've been here before on my way to Rivet City the first time. I duck inside, wanting a safer place than the outside to sleep, and find a nice little hiding spot behind a half wall, a desk blocking part of the entrance. I sag to the floor—almost falling to the floor, really—as I prepare to settle in for a little while. I take out my half bottle of water and finish it. I realize that I'm really thirsty and nearly drink all of my second—my last one. You're not gonna have any more today. Save some for tomorrow. You still have a ways to go. I lean my head against the wall and close my eyes. It's not even thirty seconds later, and I'm asleep, dreaming.
I dream that I'm with Kate and we're wandering around the city ruins. We're approached by these men. Ones like I killed yesterday. They somehow seem to separate us—knowing that's the last thing I'd want—and put us in adjacent salve pins. We can't see each other, but I can hear her. "It's gonna be alright, Butch!" She yells through the thin wall. Yet it's too thick to bust through. "We're gonna make it out, and get away from here!" Later on, I hear her pin open and a man with a rough voice talking to her.
"Get a move on, girl! You're buyer's here to getcha." Buyer, I think. She got sold already? Don't they know we're a pair, you can't buy one without the other? "C'mon, go!" I hear him kick her and she falls. She doesn't argue or complain, unlike me.
"No! You let her go! She doesn't deserve this!" I yell at him. She looks at my face through the small opening on my door and shakes her head, telling me with her eyes, It's gonna be okay. Just accept it and move on, Butch. I watch in horror as she disappears around a corner, never to be seen again. I cry out in agony. She's gone!
I lurch forward, a gasp of air between my clenched teeth and sweat dewed on my forehead. What a way to ruin a peaceful rest. I get up from my spot of slumber, and walk back into the main corridor of the Metro, looking for some source of water. I find a bathroom through a door not too far from the entrance, and walk up to the sink. There's some water in the basin, so I cup my hand, scooping it up in my palm, and splash it on my face. It feels so nice, I put some on my arms, too. Definitely a good way to cool off. I look in a nearby locker and find a rag. After dunking it into the water, I tie it around my neck like a bandanna and feel the water sink into my skin, cooling me off further.
When I look at my Pip-Boy, it claims to be two in the afternoon. I have to get going. As I walk out into the bright sunlight, I grab my crunchy mutfruit. It's been a while since I ate, and I'm pretty hungry. I'm eating it as I get closer to a couple of Pre-War diesel trucks with a tent behind it. Looked to me like a camp first time I passed through here. But this time, it doesn't sound unoccupied. A creature emerges from the other side of the truck cab. I don't even know how to describe the thing! It has a mannish looking head, but it's not at all human. It walks on six hands, but also kinda slides around like a giant slug on a slug-like body. "The frick are you?" I draw my gun as it advances. It makes no sound, but starts spitting some kinda mud-type crap at me. I throw the rest of my mutfruit at it, then shoot it at least 20 times before it goes down. At least it was the only thing in the camp, though. I'm down to three clips, for one. And two, I don't know how much more killin' I can take.
The sun shines on, and I notice my rag is dry. When I get up closer to the Pre-War memorial, I wade out into the river to soak my rag. But the water feels so good, I go a bit deeper, glad to find that it's actually pretty cold despite the sun's rays. So, I decide to stay there for a few minutes. My Pip-Boy's been making this weird clicking sound, but I can't tell what it means. But it intensifies the deeper I go out into the water. I ignore it, as best I can for how annoying it is.
I'm laying on my back, floating in the river by the memorial, for I don't know how long. So, I check my Pip-Boy for the time. I'd been in here for almost an hour! It just felt so good—the coolness of the water—that time slipped right past me. As I stand on the edge of the water, I wobble and start to fall down, so I go to grab the nearest rock, but I miss and do a faceplant in the dirt. What is wrong with me? I slowly make my way down the road toward the big bridge with the posters. There's a small… the word 'shack' doesn't even cover what it is. But there's a mattress, so I decide to take it easy for a little while. Whatever's wrong with me will pass with a bit of time.
Apparently, I drifted off to sleep, because I'm woken up by an elderly man, prodding me in the ribs with the end of his rifle. "Hey, sonny, wake up! Get outta my bed!" I slowly get up off the mattress and put my hands in the air. I'm not feeling any better than when I laid down. I'm actually feeling a bit worse.
"Listen, grandpa. I just needed a nap, and I found your place here. I didn't take anything, I swear. Now I'll just be on my way." He puts his gun barrel in front of me to block my path.
"Yeah, yeah. That's what everyone says. Hey, do ya got any of that Jet? I could use some right 'bout now." I don't know what Jet was, but from my observation of him, I'm guessing it's some way to get high.
"No, sir, I don't," I say as I try to slip past him, but he blocks me further.
"Well, you're not gonna be sleepin' in my bed for free! Give me your caps, then!" He takes the side of the barrel away from blocking my route, to substitute the end of it against my chest instead. I don't feel like any kind of fight at this point, and I only have five caps, so I hand them over to him, saying, "That's all I have. Sorry."
"Well, it's better than nothin'," he replies, lowing his gun. "Go ahead." He marches back to his mattress and sits down on it, counting his caps I just gave him, over and over. Dude is wacked. But I'm awake and free, so I once again head on my way. I get to feeling worse and worse as time moves on, and I'm eventually staggering at half the pace I was just this afternoon.
I make it to the plaza—it giving me bad memories, as I remember that this was where the slavers had taken me. But I continue ahead. Leader-dude did say it was this way. Then I see another sight a bit farther ahead that I don't wanna remember for the life of me. Those god-awful metal bar things—complete with blood—sticking up outta the ground. But beyond that, I can see the top of the ship. At last! I have to get close to those hulking mean things, I guess. Cause I'm making it to Rivet City, if it's the last thing I do. As I get closer to the freaks' settlement, I notice I can't see any, hear any. But I still play it safe, staying as near to the ground as I can manage, and taking a small stairway to a level lower down than their camp. Several steps later, and there it is. I've never been so excited to see a boat in my life. Even though I haven't seen many, and never had a thing for boats to begin with, it's still somethin'. I make my way up the two ramps—nearly tripping a few times—and come to a skybridge. There's a security guard near the door, I see as I get closer. "Hey, you alright, man?" he calls out when I'm about a dozen feet from him.
"Yeah," I reply as I hobble along. "Don't worry 'bout it. Is there a place to sell stuff here?"
"Yeah. Straight through that door. I'd hurry though. Marketplace is closing in an hour."
"'Kay. Thanks." I head to the door he pointed at and go through. What I'm looking for is the first stand on the left. I go up to it, and ask one of the two men there, "You buy guns?"
"Doesn't this look like a gun shop to you?" He retorts. "Of course we buy."
"Good." I set my 10mm and remaining three ammo clips onto the counter by him. "I don't need this anymore. I don't wanna go out there again." He just looks confused. I sigh, and add, "I came from a vault, okay? I just wanna stay here now." He nods.
"Then you came to the right place." He tugs at the neck of his red sweater under his leather vest. He picks up my gun, turning it this way and that, opening up the chamber, inspecting the magazine. "I'll give you 30 caps for all of it."
"Can't up the price any more?" I ask.
"'Fraid not," he says, setting the pistol back down. "I'm pretty much just paying you for the ammo, the condition of your gun is so bad. You been using it a lot out there?" I nod. "Yeah… 30 caps. Take it or leave it."
"Fine," I say. "I don't want it anymore, so why hold onto it when I can get money." He counts out 30 caps and hands them to me. "Where can I get a stiff drink around here?" I ask.
"You sure that's the thing you need right now?" He asks. "You don't look too good."
"Look, bud. You may not know it, but I've been through hell. Yes, I need it!" He stares at me for a second before answering.
"You go through the door you came in. Go in the door to your right. Follow the stairwell down 'til you can't go no farther. Door's behind the stairs," he says.
"'Kay. Thanks." I turn myself around and follow the man's directions, tripping a couple times on the staircase, once even falling onto the landing flat on my face. But I finally make it to the bar. Muddy Rudder, the sign says. I stumble my way down the stairs, and plop down on a stool by the bar.
"What'll it be?" The woman asks.
"Whiskey. Please."
"Ten caps." She sets the bottle in front of me, takes the caps I put on the counter, and continues wiping out a shot glass like when I first came in. I unscrew the cap and take a long pull of the alcohol. It tastes like piss, but it can get me drunk, so I keep drinking 'til it's gone. "A little fast there. Tryin' to win a booze drinking record?" She comments. I just stare at her. When I don't answer, she says, "You don't have to chug it like it's gonna be stolen from you. There's no one else here, see?" But I don't care.
"Another." I set ten more caps on the counter.
"You're gonna overdo it. You don't look too—"
"Good. I know. I don't care. I need another." I slide my caps on the counter toward her more. She takes them and hands me another bottle.
"Whatever," she says. "As long as I make a living, doesn't matter to me if you die from alcohol poisoning." She walks out from the counter and starts heading to a door on the end of the bar. "I'm closing soon, so hurry up."
After I finish, she all but kicks me out, locking the door behind me. I'm getting tired again, but I don't know where to go for a bed. So I sit down outside by the door of the Muddy Rudder. I'll be back here tomorrow anyway. Why go very far? I rest my head against the wall and close my eyes. The two bottles of whiskey and my sleep deprivation send me into a stupor in record time.
I hear a man and a woman talking. The man asks, "Has he been there long?" To which the woman replies, "He's been there ever since Belle closed last night." I realize they're talking about me. I open my eyes to see the other gun dealer that I didn't talk to yesterday and a woman with innocent pigtails, but the sleaziest outfit on.
"So, he is alive," the man says. "I was beginning to wonder. See you later, Trinnie." He goes up the stairs. The woman just looks at me.
"You gonna move, or just sit there like a beggar outside the door?" So, she doesn't seem very nice. I go to get up, but fall back against the wall. She sighs. "Tell you what. I'll help you in there if you buy me a couple beers."
Seemed a good enough trade to me, so I nod. She walks closer to me, and puts her hand out for me to grab. Putting her boot against my own, she pulls me up from the floor and lets go of my hand. I take my time, and I'm eventually back on the stool I used yesterday in front of the counter. The woman that was here yesterday—Belle, I heard Trinnie say—says, "You're back. I'm starting to see a pattern here. What'll it be today?"
"Four beers. Two for her," I point at the girl, "two for me."
"Eight caps." She takes the caps, then hands us our beer. By the time I was almost done with both of mine, the girl had both of hers long gone. She looks at me with an expectant face.
"I want another one." Her tone makes her sound so whiny and spoiled.
"I already got you two," I say, not even looking at her. "That's it."
"But I want another one!" Her voice shoots up an octave. I guess it was the beer talking, or my low tolerance for people telling me what to do. Maybe a combination of both. But I take my switchblade out and point it in her face.
"I said no!" I finish the last sip of my beer and slam the bottle down onto the counter. "What is it with you Wasteland buttholes? Always so pushy! Never appreciating, always expecting! I'm not buying you another beer, because I said so! I already thanked you for 'helping' me in here with the two beers you got! That's it!" It got some stares for erupting the way I did. There were two other people having their daily dose of poison, Belle, and a bouncer with a head wrap on. He didn't seem too concerned about my sudden outburst. Maybe because Trinnie did this kinda thing to everyone, and he thought she got what she deserved. Doesn't matter to me, 'cause she looks scared stiff with my blade in her face. She gets up slowly, as to not agitate me further, and runs out the door. One of the other customers get up and follow her lead, although they don't look as scared as her. I set my last two remaining caps on the counter. "Another." Belle gets and sets a beer in front of me. I notice with the back of my mind somewhere that the bouncer takes off through the door and returns several minutes later with a lady in uniform. She stares at me like she doesn't know what to think. Is she wondering why I'm dressed 'funny'? Why I still have my switchblade out in my non-beer hand? I don't care what she's thinking. She looks like she has the authority to throw me off the ship if she wanted to. And I almost wonder why she doesn't. But then I realize I don't care about that either. I'd been in Rivet City for 23 hours, according to my Pip-Boy. I haven't seen Kate yet, so I guess that means that she's not here. The feeling of despair settles in my stomach as I try to accept this. Looking back up onto the platform for the uniform-lady, intending to say something insulting, I notice she's not there anymore. How long's she been gone? I think dryly. There's only Belle and the bouncer in here with me now. She's retreated to what I assume to be her room in the back, and the bouncer stands behind the bar, looking at me. Watching my every move to make sure the next one won't cause trouble.
I can't get Kate outta my mind. I was hoping so much that'd she'd be here. My thoughts are interrupted as I hear the door open, but no one's steps are on the stairs. I look up a few seconds after I heard it open to see if I had just imagined it, or if someone had actually come in. I wonder if uniform-lady had come back to kick me outta their city, but I don't see anyone, so I turn my face forward again. I was trying not to, but I was hoping that maybe Kate had been here, and that was her coming down here. But she wouldn't be caught dead in a bar—unlike me, sitting here buzzing pretty good with a knife out for no apparent reason. My hand loosens its grip on my switchblade without me telling it to, and it falls to the floor. It didn't seem like time was making whatever was wrong with me better. I bring my shaky hand up to rub at my temple, trying to lessen the small headache brewing there.
I hear steps on the stairs now, so I guess someone did come in here. I don't care who it is. If it isn't Kate—and I knew it wasn't going to be—it didn't matter to me who it was. A couple seconds later, I feel the beer being prying lightly from my fingers, and a hand under my chin, pulling my face to the left.
There she is. Looking like she's not in great condition either, but genuinely happy to see me. My heart lurches. Her beautiful auburn hair looks freshly washed, and shows it's natural blonde tones in the lighting. Her eyes are squinted from the petite smile playing around her full lips. There's a small cut on her upper right cheek—and although it must hurt when she grins like that—she ignores it. I can't believe she's here. Actually here.
"Kate?"