Chapter Four: Rats and Runners
Location: Urbania
Eastern Zone, Scav Row
Within the now decimated ruins of a market street, vandals and Fiends ran amok, over and under ruined stalls, cars, and other rubble caused by the ensuing violence of the Tournament. Glass and broken stones litter the floors, oil spills and bloody reminders of conflicts past mixed to create a dull reddish stain. The only things that miraculously survived the destruction were the various speakers attached to differing surfaces, including walls, lamp posts, and other solid grounds, each one fizzling to life as the news poured in.
"Ah, here we are in Urbania's Scav Row," Said the optimistic voice of Rick over the radio. "A common market place in the Eastern Zone, Scav Row caters to construction supplies, low-quality arms and armor, several bits and bobs store…" His voice trailed off slightly. "Commonly known for having several constantly emptied dumpsters…"
"Where do you think the merchants get their merchandise, dummy?" Slick's voice retorted, sounding slightly miffed and a little bit exhausted. "It's called Scav Row for a reason! Scavengers and looters constantly scour this neighborhood for tools and shit in this god damn ruin. Truth be told…" Slick started coughing a bit. "It looks better after the Fiends set up shop."
"Put the blunt out when we're recording, you junkie." Rick snarled. "And speaking of shop, for anyone interested in buying goods and supplies for this incredibly long Tournament, which we will continue to broadcast 24/7, visit the Inconvenience Store located near what's left of the Drunken Rat bar."
"Ah, the Inconvenience Store," Slick said in a cheerful daze. "Always has whatever you can't give a crap about, never what you desperately need. Still remains open, because of reasons."
"Anyway, here's some music for you all to relax and fight to, with Lover's Wreck by Gaelic-"
*BLAM*
Before the broadcast could continue, a bullet rang out, tearing a chunk of the speaker up, several more following. This gunfight, however, wasn't the result of someone hating transmitted signals and needing to release pent up anger. The real source was from pure panic as four dangerously armed men tore through Fiends with relative ease. Mostly because of fireball magic and a chainsaw. The chainsaw did a good job.
"RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!" Shouted a dirty Fiend, tossing his now empty pistol aside as the rest of his cohorts were reduced to red stains or were found in pieces. Out of the initial attack squad of fifteen, only three survived (well, two and a half, because one guy crawled away with both his legs reduced to messy stumps due to Eddie's axe) and bolted down an alley, their dignity most likely dribbling between their legs.
After their little conversation with Agent Cinder, the boys in the Heart of Steel made their way towards a more open area, coming across Scav Row in hopes of gathering their bearings. Then they found the Fiends congregating over another victory against the Saints, so blasted on Psycho and Med-X that they thought they could easily take down four guys, one encased in armor and the other with a metal arm, and came at them with guns, knives, and what have you. The result was rather… embarrassing.
"I think I got a little brain on my shoe…" Travis muttered as he examined his foot, having a noticeable stain on the heel from an earlier roundhouse kick to the skull of a Fiend girl, the corpse currently stuck inside the broken window of a shop that advertised Quills and Sofas.
"Just scrape your shoe or something," Eddie shouted, stepping over the twitching cadavers of five Fiends who still had 4,000 volts running through them. "Hey, Overlord, you've got a little something on your helmet."
"I'm fully aware." The Overlord boomed, dusting his armor off of bone fragments, refusing to acknowledge the bleeding heart gored to one of the spikes on his helmet. "Intimidation factor." Jack grumbled to himself as he examined the destroyed speaker while his associates rested from their random encounter.
"You guys heard what they said on the radio, right?" Jack asked. "About the shop still open?" Three sounds of agreement followed. "Well, the Inconvenience Store is just a little ways away. They might have some interesting stuff for us."
"Are we seriously trusting a store that has the word Inconvenience in the name?" Travis asked, skeptically. "What the hell would they have that we'd need?"
"You never know, Travis." Eddie said, joining Jack. "Let's head out." Without another word, the four men continued down the destroyed street, not a Fiend in sight. It could be attributed either to the conflict with the Saints further in, or that the violent drug addicts finally wised up and gave the four their space. Two blocks down, Heart of Steel finally reached the advertised building on the radio, the Inconvenience Store, an average style mart with a flickering sign of the store's name above the set of boarded up double doors. It looked like an average store, ignoring the crude graffiti painted all over by Saints and Fiends and the oddly strong scent of cheese. The doors and windows were boarded up, so it seemed difficult to know if anyone was truly inside. So, Travis did the only logical thing at the time: knock.
"BEAT IT!" Shouted a nasally New York voice from within the store. "I'm not selling any chems for you twitching freaks, so GET STUFFED!" Travis slightly reeled back, a startled look on his face.
"Not the best sales guy isn't he?" Travis asked before knocking again. "Look, we're not Fiends, okay? We just want to do business."
"Oh, you're not one of those crazy kooks?" The voice said. "Hang on a moment, I'll open the door and we can discuss things business wise." A rapid clicking on locks and sliding tumblers popped from behind the door, and the door slowly opened. The four men were surprised to see the door opening to a room filled with various labeled crates, but completely empty. "Down here, dimwits." Glancing down, the men saw a gray rat standing on his hind legs, wearing a cabby hat, tiny arms folded across his chest.
"You're… a rat." Eddie pointed out, staring in disbelief.
"Yeah, and that guy's got a heart stabbed on his head." The rat said, pointed to the Overlord. "That ain't exactly attractive." Grumbling, the Overlord removed the bloody organ from his helmet and tossed it away. "Anyway, the name's Jimmy Two-Teeth, scavenger and salesman of what have you. What can I get for yous today?"
"Well… We kinda just need something to get us moving in the area." Eddie said, rubbing the back of his head. "A map, food, maybe some protection."
"Standard supplies, eh?" Jimmy said, scratching his chin. "Well, I got plenty of those, plus a few of my Skin-Body associates managed to get ahold of a few… slightly off the grid items."
"Off the grid?" Jack asked, stepping forward. "Are you selling contraband?"
"I would be, but something's getting in my way." Jimmy complained, tapping his foot. "I've got some competition further in, some arms dealers who call themselves the Gun Runners."
"I've heard of 'em." Travis said, tucking his hands into the pockets of his red jacket. "Based out in the Mojave Wasteland, they make most of the guns and bullets in the New Vegas area. Makes sense they'd set up shop here in Fiend Central."
"They're selling guns and armor for bottle caps!" Jimmy exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. "And it's putting me out of business." The rat paused, rubbing a finger beneath his nose. "Say, you guys look like the kind of muscle that could help me out… How would you like to make a business deal?"
"Let me guess…" Travis groaned, folding his arms. "You want us to put the hurt on the Gun Runners, and we get free stuff in return? An errand boy quest."
"Close, but no cigar, Otaku guy." Jimmy said. "I want you to swipe their goods from a nearby factory where they deal with the Fiends, then bring 'em back to me so I can put the Gun Runners out of business." Jimmy quickly ran back inside, then returned, pushing a bulging military backpack out the door. "I'll give you the food and maps for free right now, plus a little something extra once the job is done, capice?" The four men pondered the rodent's offer, but were unsure whether or not to take it. As their thoughts continued, a crackling in their ECHO communicators diverted their train of thought.
"Take the offer," Urged the voice of Agent Cinder. "You've just been offered a Sponsorship Deal. Those are vital to building our army to take down the Champion Kaos."
"A Sponsorship Deal?" Eddie repeated, slightly confused. "Like they'll provide merchandise for us, or something?" On the other end of the communicator, it sounded as though someone's hand slapped their own face.
"Think for a moment, Mr. Riggs." Cinder groaned. "Sponsorship Deals were introduced for groups in the Tournaments as a form of providing strength and support. Take Mr. Two-Teeth here," The four men glanced at the rat, who was busy going through an official looking checklist. "He may not look it, but he leads the Skin-Bodies, some of the best scavengers and fencers to be hired by the IDA. Since they're all rats, they can get into places most can't, and are capable of getting mildly important goods, like food, medicine, and a few weapons. I'd highly recommend taking the offer and see where it goes." The line went silent, leaving the members of Heart of Steel to consider their self-proclaimed instructor's words. They held merit to them, and it was possible this could pay off in the long run. Plus, free food and a map, to boot.
Jack got down on one knee, holding his metal arm out in a handshake. "You got yourself a deal, Jimmy." The rat gave a little squeak, and vigorously shook the DeathWatcher's hand… as much as a foot-long rat could.
"Oh man! Those Gun Runners ain't gonna know what hit 'em!" Jimmy exclaimed. Releasing his grip, Jimmy crawled into the bag and pulled out a small microchip, placing it in Jack's hand. "These chips will give ya a complete map of the area on your ECHOs, just plug 'em in and you're good." The men did as obliged, watching as a notification pinged on their HUD for their maps. "I've already marked where the Factory where the Gun Runners have their goods stored. Just find the box that has a crap-load of guns and bring it back here. Now, SCRAM!" Jimmy ran back inside the store, slamming the door shut with a series of locks clicking in short following. The Overlord picked up the backpack and slung it around his back, careful not to let his sharp armor tear into the contents within.
"Shall we then?" The Overlord said, striding towards the location on their map. Watching the black armored giant walk away, the three other men shrugged their shoulders and followed, unaware of the hidden eyes amongst the rubble.
Location: Fiend's Factory, Urbania
Fortunately for the men of the Heart of Steel, the Factory, an old production factory lacking a name or sign of identification, was relatively close to the Inconvenience Store where Jimmy Two-Teeth set up, and even had a large unlocked door at the front. Unfortunately, the place was under heavy guard by Fiends, ravenous Guard Dogs, and a pair of active RobCo turrets. Clearly this was a Gun Runner stronghold that nobody could get into… Unless you were the Heart of Steel.
Jack leaned over a hunk of fallen rubble, carefully observing the guards through his enhanced biker goggles, assessing the situation in detail, while his allies prepared themselves under cover. Jack grunted to himself, noticing that most, if not all, of the Fiends were armed with hunting rifles and submachine guns, compared to the other raiders they encountered so far.
"They're organized…" Jack muttered. "The Gun Runners must be supplying them. How else could they have the arms and defenses?"
"That's obvious." Travis joked, fiddling with his beam katana. "Why else would they be fucking guarding a Gun Runner storage?"
"Shut it, Touchdown." Jack snapped before returning to lookout. "We've got five on the second floor, makeshift catwalk along the windows, armed with SMGs and rifles, wearing standard raider getup." He glanced at the ground level, watching a pair of Fiends playing cards. "Seven on the ground below, two are distracted but have shotguns near them, the rest have SMGs and a few pistols." The sound of two dogs barking directed his attention towards a pair of flea-bitten mutts, scraggly and missing patches of fur, fighting over of leftover meat. "Guard dogs everywhere, I've counted eleven alone, and there's probably more inside."
"Could be rabid," Eddie suggested. "Most Wasteland dogs are, and the Fiend Hounds probably aren't an exception."
"Got that right." Jack agreed, looking at the real problem at hand. "Those turrets are equipped with high powered lasers and rapidly rotating barrels… They'll fry us in seconds…."
"Then we destroy them!" The Overlord boomed, clenching a fist. "Get me in the right location, and a fireball can demolish those defenses to scrap metal!" Just as Jack was about to berate the Overlord for using his 'evil voice', he realized the idea was actually pretty sound. Another quick scan of the area showed plenty of vantage points for the Overlord to take out the turrets, all they needed to do was get him in close enough. Retreating behind cover, Jack gained his allies attention and began planning.
"Alright, here's what we're going to do:" Jack explained, making gestures with his hands. "Travis, you're going to try and get as much attention as possible from the Fiends and draw them away." A scowl appeared on the assassin's face as he folded his arms. "You're fast and light on their feet, I've seen you dodge bullets before. A couple of addicts and dogs won't be a huge problem for you."
"Hmmph, fair enough." Travis said, his scowl turning into a smirk.
"Eddie, you and I are going to see if we can sneak around the rest and get the Overlord to a vantage point to take those turrets down," Jack continued, addressing the roadie. "And pray that the guards on the second floor don't spot us."
"I can take 'em out easy." Eddie said with a shrug. "I'd just fly around and knock 'em off their perches." The three members blinked in both confusion and disbelief. Mostly confusion.
"You can fly?" Travis asked, Eddie nodded in response. "How?"
"I've got Demon Blood, dude." Eddie said, jabbing at his chest with his thumb. "Gives me wings and makes me stronger. Here, watch." The roadie steadily rose to his feet, hunched over to keep himself behind cover. After a series of painful grunts (which Travis managed to withhold numerous shitting jokes, much to his and Jack's amusement), Eddie's skin darkened a red color, his eyes turned yellow, and a pair of large brown batwings shot from his back, a wingspan of about five feet in length. "That hurts like a bitch every time." Eddie sat back down, his wings folding behind his back, a pained smirk on his face, while his cohorts could just stare at the horrific marvel before them.
"Huh." Was all that Travis could say.
"That'll work, then." Jack said, rubbing the scruff of his jawline. "Eddie, just start getting the Fiends above. Be creative. I'll escort the Overlord and keep him safe. We do this, get into the factory, get the shit for Jimmy, then double-time it to where the Fiend's leader is."
"Go team!" Travis exclaimed, jumping up and immediately bolting from cover. Jack grumbled to himself, furrowing his brow as the plan began too early. The No More Hero ran just barely out of range of the turrets, and with a loud whistle, gained the attention of almost all the Fiends and their dogs. "Hey! There's a discount at the rehab clinic for all fucking psychopaths who apply in the next four seconds!"
"Get that idiot!" One Fiend shouted, aiming his rifle. Travis almost immediately regret being the bait for this mission as several bullets began flying his way, rolling out of the way and taking cover behind an overturned car. This proved very helpful in the end, because his new position lead him near a cache of chemicals the Fiends were known for using. Grabbing the box, jingling with Med-X syringes and Jet inhalers, Travis was brave enough to lift the contents above his head and pop up from his cover like a gopher.
"Don't you dumbasses know what this shit does to your bodies?!" Travis shouted. "I mean, I don't, but I'm sure you all do!" He could practically hear the sound of Jack face palming at that. The Fiends were enraged, barking orders and sending several of their own, along with their dogs, to kill Travis as he ran down the street. Step one was complete, and on to step two.
With a mighty flap of his wings, Eddie took off into the skies, axe at the ready as he scanned for his targets. As Jack predicted, most of the Fiends on the ground took off after Travis, leaving the few on the catwalks and the turrets, still alert for most anything to come their way. Except for a flying roadie with an axe. A smirk on his face and a steely gaze, Eddie dove from the skies, dive bombing towards the nearest Fiend, a dirty man with dreadlocks shakily holding a hunting rifle in his grasp, arms extended to give the man the scare of his lifetime. A rush of wind and a heavy thud, the Fiend suddenly found himself no longer on the ground, but several feet in the air and in the burly arms of Eddie Riggs. Dropping his rifle with a shocked yelp, the Fiend began to frantically struggle to break free of his captor's grasp.
"Put me down! Put me down!" The Fiend screamed, pounding on Eddie's arms like a child having a tantrum. "I'm terrified of heights!" A malicious idea entered Eddie's mind, a grin mirroring his thoughts.
"You want down, huh?" Eddie asked as the Fiend continued shouting. "As you wish." And thus, Eddie released the Fiend from his confines… five stories in the air. The Fiend dropped like a rock, flailing his arms and screaming all the way down, landing with a loud thud and crack atop a closed dumpster, bent in ways that bones should not bend. For a moment, Eddie felt a little guilty at dropping that guy, but he knew he wouldn't really be dead, just eliminated from the Tournament. Still, it felt good to do.
"Shit," Eddie muttered, shaking his head. "The Overlord's rubbing off on me." Another rush of the wind, and Jack saw a black and reddish blur fly pass the scaffolding on the factory, more and more Fiends vanishing and winding up splatters on the floor, with the exception of one. "Hey, Jack! Head's up!" The DeathWatcher looked up and saw that Eddie had tossed one of his targets at him, practically like a bullet. Feeling on providing some show for the viewers, Jack flexed his mechanical arm, his chainsaw retracting with a roaring buzz, bracing himself for the impending Fiend. Just as the bloodshot eyes of the Fiend were in sight, Jack raised his chainsaw arm above his head, and time seemed to slow down as he angled the blade between his face and the oncoming Fiend. The Overlord, now climbing around the fire escape stairs of the building, was treated to the sight of two bloody halves of a Fiend lying on either side of Jack Cayman, his chainsaw buzzing and stained with blood.
"Well now." The Overlord mused, looking as Jack turned about, revealing he was absolutely covered in blood. "Quite a display, shame I missed it." The two continued upwards, watching on the sides as Travis and Eddie both did their parts before finally getting into position on the rooftops. If Jack's hunch was correct, they were just outside the range of the two turrets, but close enough for the Overlord to get a good hit on them. That being, the Overlord wasted no time in doing so, conjuring a blast of flame in his hand and tossing it at the mechanical turrets, both exploding in a flash of sparks and burning metal. "We're done here." Without so much as a second thought, the Overlord walked straight off the building and landed with a thud on the ground, while Jack took the stairs again.
With the Fiends evaded, the guards neutralized, and the turrets disabled, the members of Heart of Steel regrouped at the front of the Factory, where the Gun Runners and Fiends stored a multitude of weapons and the gear Jimmy Two-Teeth wanted. Travis was nearly out of breath, but the Fiends and their dogs were successfully distracted, while Eddie stretched out his slightly eerie wings as Jack and the Overlord rejoined them. The No More Hero walked over to the DeathWatcher, and pressed his finger on the bare chest of his partner.
"Next time…" Travis gasped. "You're the bait…" Eddie chuckled as Jack shoved Travis onto the ground, the latter so exhausted he didn't want to get up.
"Alright, let's get this shit that rat wants and get out." Jack said, folding his arms. Once Travis regained stamina, he and the rest of the men walked towards the massive door to the factory, but were caught off guard when the doors suddenly opened. From within, they could hear the distinct barking of dogs, and someone clicking their gun. Emerging from the interior was a new foe, a massive brick of a man, standing taller than even the Overlord, rippling with dirty and scarred muscles all over his body, his bare chest bearing a crude tattoo of a broken skull. Atop his head was a literal skull helmet, obscuring everything on his face except for his bloodshot eyes and vicious scowl. Oddly, the only clothes he was wearing were some oddly intricate leg armor and boots, that seemed to not belong with the Fiend set. In one hand, he held a gigantic minigun, damaged and splattered in bloody. In the other, he grasped a set of three chains that led to three slobbering and vicious looking Rottweilers, shaved in various spots and barking in a vicious tone. The large Fiend looked at the four men with an angry gaze in his eyes, hefting his gun to aim.
"Fresh meat for my dogs, eh?" The Fiend growled with a chuckle. "Heh, EAT UP, PUPS!"
NEW OPPONENT!
Bonehead and his Dogs, Ceris, Bohr, and Reese
"And here's the dread Bonehead," The voice of Rick said through one of the conveniently placed speakers. "Pack Master of the IDA Fiends, and a dread menace to truly be reckoned with."
"And as a bonus," Slick's voice said. "We've got someone from the Wasteland who will give us some info on that big bastard. From the radiated wonderland that was once the United States of America, home to mutants, murderers, and monsters, please welcome to the show… Mr. New Vegas!"
"Ahem, wrong radio guy." Said an African American sounding man. "Mr. New Vegas didn't get the invited. I did."
"Right… Sorry, take two." Slick said, clearing his throat. "From the radiated blah blabby blah, please welcome Three Dog!" The three radio hosts then howled like dogs before erupting into laughter.
"Perfect harmony, guys." Three Dog laughed. "Anyway, folks, this is Three Dog of Galaxy News Radio from the Capital Wasteland! While I'm not exactly from the Mojave Wasteland, I still get around, and do I know my shit, children."
"So, give us the info on Mr. Bonehead and his dogs, Three Dog." Rick said. "If you could."
"I could, I can, and I will." Three Dog said. "Bonehead here is one of the Fiend Pack Masters, those chem addicts who train their dogs by pumping them full of chems too. Granted, this big bastard's something special. He's so jacked up on Med-X, Psycho, and Jet, it's physically altered his body into becoming a mega-fucker with a pebble-sized brain. His three dogs, Ceris, Bohr, and Reese were pretty much given the same shit, but it just made them meaner and nastier. That gun of his is loaded with Hollow-Point Bullets, and he's no slouch with it either. All I'm gonna say is good luck killing that ugly bastard, and keep fightin' the good fight."
Author's Note: And thus, we reach out first Mini-Boss... in which we actually fight them in the next chapter. Anyway, voice your thoughts on a sponsorship with the rat, Jimmy Two-Teeth from Telltale Games' Sam & Max: Freelance Police Franchise, and other oncoming thoughts in the reviews below.