There wasn't more but a thud when the last raider sentry on John's side of the camp fell, his cut throat staining the broken pavement black. Still, better safe then sorry, crouching low John listened for any alarm while cleaning his sword on its fifth victim's shirt. There were no raised voices however, in fact...there were no voices at all, had Charon already cleared the other side?
Briefly checking the dead raider for anything useful, merely finding a pair of caps and a bottle of buffout, John decided to push through the wooden barricades the raiders had erected around their little camp, drawn SMG leading the way.
In the darkness of dusk John could still easily make out how the barricades had been erected, which was made all the easier by a pair of Christmas lights that the raiders had wrapped around an old streetlight, casting an oddly cheerful light over the little camp. Raiders...fucking idiots really. John made himself small and slipped in between two barricades, eyes darting left and right. To the left of him there was a stained mattress and a white table upon where a pair of glasses and an empty bottle of vodka stood.
The right was more furnished. In the furthermost corner a bunk bed whose steel frame had begun to rust stood. Next to it a table had been placed like some sort of nightstand, a inhaler of jet, an opened bottle of wine and a small pile of caps lying atop it. At the foot of the bed a larger table was set with half empty plates with various meals. Didn't even finish their meals...these guys must be successful. Then a slight movement to his right drew his eyes to a weathered couch lying next to the streetlight.
The man sleeping there looked almost peaceful, heck, with his eyes closed he didn't look half as rabid as he probably was. John grimaced, it was almost cute...if it hadn't been for the man cradling a cracked assault rifle as if it was a teddy bear...especially since a filthy teddy bear actually lay by the foot of the couch.
Shrugging John pulled the weapon away from the raider, a snort escaped him as he begun to awaken...then John grabbed him by the hair, pulled him partly off the couch...and calmly slit his throat.
For a moment the man's eyes widened, bloodshot gaze darting around in panic. It was a mere moment though, the panic swiftly fading as all life poured out of the man.
Huh, odd how easy that was...John smirked, realising just how used he'd gotten to clearing out bands of raiders. It was just an everyday occurrence, nothing to make a fuzz about, heck, he barely feared for his life anymore. It was just standard procedure, like shooting a stubborn radscorpion from a position where it couldn't get to him, or lighting a fire without making it visible in the distance. Nothing to speak of...
Did that make him evil?
"Holy shit!" The words brought John out if his thoughts, looking up he heard the sound of a shotgun going off, followed by a scream. Good old Charon... "Guys! Get up! They're here!" Over on the other side of the encampment John watched a man stumble towards him, clutching his leg while trying to aim his pistol back where he came from. "I need help here!"
"You don't know half of it buddy." John muttered, then squeezed off a salvo against the wounded raider. The bullets stitched a ragged line across his torso, from the man's hip to his shoulder blood came out in small clouds as the bullets sliced through the conglomerate of metal and leather that was supposed to be his armour.
The man fell there and then, simply crumpling to the ground.
A moment later Charon appeared, shotgun lowered in a ready stance. "The rest have been taken care of master." The way he informed John about the death of the other sentries he might as well have been talking about the weather.
"Good, you drag that guy out and I'll take this one." John chuckled, realizing he spoke in the same way. Odd what things you could get used to after a while... Grabbing his kill by the shoulders John begun to pull, hoping he wasn't staining the floor with too much blood. In the darkness he wasn't sure how it went...probably bad. He followed Charon's lead, heading for a small hollow in the old street that had probably once been for drainage.
Dumping the pair there John went back to the camp, grabbing another corpse after a quick search. Beginning to drag that one over to the ditch he watched how Charon effortlessly shouldered two corpses to take away. "You're quite strong aren't you?"
"Yes master." Was the dry response, as always.
They worked quickly and efficiently, both familiar with the procedure by now.
Soon John found himself sitting down on the couch, a quick swipe of his sword shutting down the stupid Christmas lights. In front of him Charon sat down on the stained mattress, hands quickly moving to get a fire working by mixing some brahmin dung and alcohol. "Great, we get stinking food today." Of course Charon didn't reply to the joke, John smirked anyway. "We got enough supplies to reach Rivet city?" He already knew the answer of course, they were halfway there and hadn't even consumed a third of their food. Still...it was nice with some conversation.
"Yes master." Yes...some...conversation.
"Well that's nice, you're going to cook for us today?" John watched in fascination how the ghoul had gotten the fire starting and was reaching for the backpack...before stopping in the middle of reaching out.
"If you still wish it master..." The ghoul didn't look at him, hands still stretched towards the backpack. Fascinating...John briefly considered holding his tongue...just to see how long the ghoul would sit like that, waiting for the order making it okay to get the food. But no...John was no Ahzrukhal, he smirked in irony...at least not yet.
"Yes sure." The ghoul immediately went to get the food. "You know, I thought I told you you're free to make some assumptions and choices. You're not a mindless automaton you know...right?"
Again the ghoul paused in his actions, in the darkness and with his ruined features it was hard to tell...but John thought he recognised a frown. "No...master?" The ghoul begun to push the chosen meal into the fire, mole rat meat...sweet! Charon grunted something, then spoke up again, heh...that's how you got him to talk...push at the boundaries of his contract. "I cannot disobey you, as such performing actions not sanctioned by you risks your displeasure and me pain."
"I won't hurt you if you displease me Charon." John chuckled at the thought. Him hurting that monster...he wouldn't dare.
"I have realized that much master, however, the pain will still be there."
"So...the contract sort of causes you pain if you break it?" John leant forward, he knew he was pushing it, at any time the ghoul would shut down and refuse to talk about it, referring to one or another clause in the contract. Still, John was curious about this ghoul he barely knew but who seemed ready to follow him to hell and back. "With what? A headache?"
"Harsher than that master...but essentially yes." The ghoul still wore the same neutral look on his face, but John could tell he was uncomfortable. Still a little more pressing wouldn't hurt...
"So what happens if I take your contract and put it into that fire there?"
Charon didn't pause his work, but he did turn to look at John, making him swallow. The pale eyes seemed to see right through him, speaking of a life filled with death and pain that had been like nothing to the ghoul. The neutral look was sill there...somehow even calmer than ever before. Which made the answer all the more frightening: "I am nothing with my contract, as such the destruction of the contract would lead to my own destruction."
"You're not mythically bounded to it." John pointed out, dreading the reply.
"I would destroy myself master." The ghoul glanced over at the shotgun at his side, an almost longing look crossing his face. Oh you got to be...
John shook his head,wetting his suddenly dry lips. "You're not going suicidal on me are you Charon?"
"No master. The contract is still intact."
"Great...you really know how to make a guy depressed." John sighed and dug into his duffel bag, pulling out the worn book of science he had found in an old radio shack. Flipping through it he quickly found where he had finished last time. "You know that right?"
"I don't know how to answer that question master." Was there...pain in the voice? Great...he was going to sleep around a suicidal ghoul who was more machine then man...meh...better then no company at all at least.
John forced himself not to look up, worried what he might see. "Don't worry about it, you're not really supposed to answer anyway." Wait...why did he just flip to page fifty? Wasn't he just on page thirty-six?
"Yes master."
"Oh for crying out loud!"
"Master?"
"There are pages missing! Back when I got that Chinese book I didn't mind that much...I don't think I missed that many illustrations...but this is a book of science dammit! How can I be sure they're describing the same thing on this page as they did on this page if there's a big piece missing!? And no you're not supposed to answer that either!" John shook the book above his head, glaring over at Charon that was looking back evenly: "Why!? Why is every readable book I find missing pages!?"
"Most books, readable or not, are missing pages master."
John frowned. He hadn't really checked the burnt and unreadable books...but Charon sounded certain on it...as he always did. "And why are they missing pages then?"
"Toilet paper master."
"Toilet...paper?" John blinked, mind trying to comprehend the cheer stupidity of the answer. "Are you...fucking kidding me!? Are you saying that there are assholes out there who says: 'oh gee I need to go to the bathroom, give me that nice instruction on how to clean water for me to wipe my ass with will you?'!?" He shook his head, glaring at the floor as he dropped the book down next to him. "The last vestiges of knowledge from the past...and it's being flushed down the toilet!? That should be a capital offence or something! No wonder mankind is screwed..."
A miniscule snort escaped Charon.
"Are you laughing at me!?" Against his will John smiled, the thought of Charon laughing hilarious.
The ghoul still had the neutral look on his face, eyes focused on the fire as he worked the spit of flesh around. Still...there was just a hint of...cheerfulness in his movement. "Wouldn't dream of it master."
"Sure you don't..." John rolled his eyes, hoping to break through the ghoul's façade. "As long as you don't go all emotional on me...like going aww when I help Nova next time." He smiled, remembering the embarrassing episode...he hadn't really meant it to go like that. It still left a bit of a sour taste in his mouth to be frank...and an odd fear. Still, if he could joke on his own expense to get Charon to lighten up it would be worth it.
Charon merely shrugged, apparently not going for it. "What you do with other people are not my business unless they intend to harm you master."
"Well one could say that surrendering half my supply of radaway is risking to harm me..." John muttered, a little amused by the thought. Man, he was still an idiot...
"I am not at liberty to criticize you for being foolish master."
"Haven't we had this discussion already?"
"My apologies master, I will try to do better."
"I guess it would go better if I ordered you instead of discussing it..."
"It would master."
"Yet I won't."
"Very well master." The ghoul didn't seem the least irritated with him. Just accepting, as always...God he was annoying at times. "Meat is almost done master."
"Good...ah dammit!" John slapped his forehead, glancing at the book next to him.
"Master?"
"I need to go take a dump...please tell me there's a burnt book around here?"
"I have not seen one master."
"Well that's it...I'm about to become a hypocrite and humanity is doomed..."
Another miniscule snort.