Chapter XIII:

Trapped on a Mountain


Gideon


Ah my head. I felt as though someone had cracked open my skull and was driving a race car through my brain. Yet at the same time I felt as though I was floating like I was in water, utterly weightless. Then I started hearing sounds; echoes. They began bouncing around in my head like a Chinaman in 'Frisco playing ah what did Chang call it? Ping Pong?

Wait, who the hell is Chang? Yet before I could ponder some more; the sounds started growing more and more distinct. They were voices, but I couldn't understand them. Then they started growing louder and louder; escalating the pain as it did. Feel started coming back to me; I could feel my fingers now.

Then came the smell. It was as though I had walked into an overused outhouse and the occupants had been eating Frito pie all night long. It stank of utter shit, no lying there. Then one, raspy voice in particular grew above everybody else. He was speaking… Spanish?

"Ringo?" I asked painfully as I slowly opened my eye.

"Wrong Mexicano, Boss."

What the hell? I looked about the room and the first thing that hit me that sitting across from me was a zombie. Like one of those from a pre war movie. I immediately dug my hand towards my holster… Ah shit. There was nothing there. The zombie then cocked a head at me and smiled:

"Take your time boss. I've got all day for you a joder, granted my knees may go from sitting like this. So por favor jefe, take your time."

Not a zombie, but a Ghoul: a sarcastic one who had no qualms insulting me in a language that I had the understanding of an eight year old in. Well, I shouldn't have jinxed myself earlier when I said if things could get any weirder.

"'bout time, Gid. Afraid I was gonna have ta slap you awake again!"

It was Cass. She was seated next to the grinning, smartass Ghoul and she looked like Hell. Her eyes were swollen, teary eyed and she had a long welt on the side of her face like she'd been kicked. A deep anger bubbled in my gut at this particular, but I suppressed it. Rage wasn't going to help if I couldn't think enough to get even.

"What happened to you, Cass?"

"Ya mean what happened ta you?" she replied with a pained smile, "you look worse than greased shit."

That made the rest hit me. My throat felt like baked bread and my voice like it'd been punched too. Plus the fact I was squinting. Yep, I had been Tear Gased. But by who? And ontop of that, my face felt like it had been used as a punching bag.

"The hell happened?"

"On the road," Cass began simply, "fucker's ambushed us and kicked our collective asses."

"Ambushed?" I asked. Then it hit me like everything else that night.

"Aw shit…"


Three hours earlier


We were in the rover hitting the road. Cass was on shotgun with Boone and Veronica in the back, ED-E tucked away somewhere else.

"Ah, don't be such a pouty face, Mr. Shades! You've gotta have a smile in there somewhere!"

It'd been Veronica. What had started as trying to apologize to Boone for inadvertently traumatizing him turned into a long series of making him completely uncomfortable.

"Ever hear of personal space?" Boone growled.

"Nope! Never even heard of it in my life!" She replied cheerfully, her smile just growing all the wider. She was enjoying this. Cass just began eying her rather suspiciously, and I really couldn't blame her.

"Should we…" she began in whisper.

"No." I replied in tone, "Who knows, she might…"

Then something flew past my head and hit the door, bouncing into the back seat.

"What the hell?" Cass exclaimed. I peered around and my heart stopped.

"Tear Gas!" I shouted but it was too late. The grenade spurted to life and the horrible white smoke emitted. I punched the accelerator to the floor, hoping to hit the gas with enough wind that it wouldn't overtake everybody here. Then when I turned my head, I was blinded. For the second time in a week I'd been flashbanged.

I hit the brakes while keeping the wheel as straight as I could, but I couldn't see shit. Nor could I hear anything either, but my first instinct was the keep the rover from crashing or tipping with us in it. Then something big and heavy grabbed me by my shoulder and yanked me out of my seat. I felt like I was flying then I hit the ground.

"Owwww," I could feel myself say as I tried to get back on my feet. Then the mother of all punches hit me square in the face and I was flying again. This time my back hit something hard. By then my hearing had been the first to return and I almost wished it didn't. Shotguns blasts, and then the crackle of something electrical. That was soon followed by a mechanical scream.

"ED-E!" I screamed as the Browning cleared leather. My vision was still blurry but I could see something very big in front of me. My brain was on autopilot. I began firing wildly at it, lighting up my world in blinding flashes and loud concussions as the thing started recoiling from .45's hitting it. I kept shooting until my weapon went click.

Then I went for Parabellum and charged. I got about two feet and then something hit me over the head.

"And here we are."

We were in a storage room reconfigured into a makeshift bedroom. No doubt belonging to the grinning, rotting son of a bitch in front of me.

"Stop grinning," I growled with clenched teeth. That didn't seem to even remotely put him off.

"What boss? Can't stand the sight of the most apuesto hijo de puta you ever meet?"

I had to smile at that. He did have a sense of humor, jagged as it was.

"Well I wouldn't exactly put you at handsome, you feo mierda."

"Anybody wanna tell me what smack is being traded here?"

"Ah!" he laughed while clapping his hands comically, "a man with culture! Well I can die happy now! Just do me the favor of feeding my fish when I'm gone!"

"Fish?" Cass asked, "Now this conversation has taken a nosedive from weird ta batshit nuts."

The Mexican raised an eyebrow at her.

"Scratch that, you'd probably overfeed them, pelirrojo ranchero. And I'm not in the mood for a cielo acuosa!"

"What?" she asked again.

"Don't worry about it, Cass. He's just talking random nonsense."

"Nonesense?" he squeaked indignantly, "nonsense? My words? Hah, I'm getting too old for your nonsense."

This was probably the longest conversation I had had with a ghoul that didn't with one trying to chew on my face. To those who don't know, a ghoul is what happens when a man survives getting nuked. This one in question looked like he had been burnt to a crisp and then had healed over that with moldy, red-pale scab like skin. But in truth, my description is pale in comparison to what actually happens. I remembered some genetic doctor from Navarro who once explained it to me.

I was seriously drunk at the time, so I can't recall the specifics. But I did remember him saying that somehow the radiation didn't kill the victim in question, it somehow alters them. Makes them practically immortal by slowing their aging. Sounds good right? Wrong. It makes their skin fall off over time like a snake shedding its skin and what grows over looks like, well a guy burned to a crisp and surviving.

A giant scab he described, plus the fact that no cartilage comes back. No nose, no ears, nothing. And for obvious reasons no hair. This one was… different. He looked like everything I just described but his eyes were bright, healthy blues that had a sarcastic look to them and on his lips was an honest to god drooping mustache.

Let me elaborate. Almost every ghoul that I have met didn't have pupils. Just milky white orbs that made them look blind. Granted, those were the ones who were driven completely insane and grew a taste for human flesh. Ferals. Basically zombies, and often the only way to take them down is to take their heads off.

He was also wearing a green jump suit with yellow lines down the arms and legs with the name Miguel stenciled into it. Next to that was a patch of a grinning little boy with an outrageously large hat. A sombrero? Meh, something like that.

"So Miguel…"

"Name's Raul."

"Why does your jumpsuit say Miguel then?" Cass asked in turn. He cocked his head and cracked a sarcastic smile at her:

"Probably because it belong to Miguel, pastel de fresas."

"Don't call her that." I growled. Again, the cocking of the head and the sarcastic smile:

"Defensive are we? What, she your squeeze?"

"NO!" me and Cass both exclaimed at the exact same time. With that he sat back with his hands behind his head chuckling:

"Heh, we'll see. Won't be long 'fore que se obtiene en sus bragas!"

Before another word could be said or I could give into my ever growing anger; Cass beat me to the punch. Literally. Raul was rolling on the floor clutching his arm with her ready to rend the worst of a beatdown upon him. Naturally, I rushed to my feet and separated her from her intended punching bag.

"I understood that, ya zombie shit!" she growled as I walked her to a corner a long ways away from him. Yet when I turned my head to see him still grinning, I had to control myself not to sic Cass on him.

"Cass, just assume that anything he says in Spanish is an insult."

"Right, well if he don't prove useful then can I kill him?"

"You may."

"Good," she replied by cracking this disturbing sadistic grin that I found deeply troubling. Well, it was more than enough to wipe Raul's smugness from the surface of his face. With that I turned back to him and made way over to a chair next to a filing cabinet with Cass seated across from me.

"Alright Raul, walk us through it. Where we are and that sort of thing. And no sarcasm or…"

"Or you'll sic her on me? I get the idea boss. Well on that, let's start over then."

He stood, brushing off dust from his jumpsuit, and then gave us an elaborate bow.

"Raul Alfonso Tejada, I'm the mechanic around here."

"A mechanic locked away in a closet with the door locked?" Cass chimed. He looked at her with an annoyed stare before he continued.

"Well when a giant, crazy Super Mutant with glasses and a wig tells you to fix toasters and about every Sunday a radio tower, you're inclined to do it. Maybe not you two, but I'm just a broken down old man."

Well Shit. I hate Super Mutants. They're tough as nails and typically want to barbeque you over a spindle… wait did that actually happen to me? Ouch.

"How many Mutants are we talking here?"

"Honestly, I can't say. Maybe twenty here, but they always send off patrols to drag up helpless damsels in distress… not saying you two are or your two friends either."

"Friends? Who did you see?"

"Some dama in a brown robe and a robot. Sound familiar?"

"Veronica and ED-E," I replied slowly, looking over at Cass who only shook her head.

"Did you see anybody else?" she asked, "Particularly a guy with a red beret."

He shook his head.

"I didn't see him, senora. You have my condolences."

"No chance?"

"None."


Boone


Shit stacks. No other way of putting it. Shit stacks and does not stop. Least that's way it's been happening the past week. But this is just the worst.

I shifted from cover and made a silent trot to the next. Looked both ways, waited, listened, then moved again. Kept the rhythm up for a good minute until I got where I needed to go. High ground. Went around and came up the back of the hill.

Perfect vantage point. Went prone and started my recon. As I did, I reflected. Sniper Master always drilled into us:

"Reflect on everything. Note the changes and the circumstances. Reflect and then regroup your thoughts. Then get back into the scope."

There'd been five of them. Well camouflaged and all armed with Colt Carbines. We never stood a chance. I got lucky. I got knocked out of the truck and rolled into a ditch while they attacked everybody else.

I had to escape. Wouldn't do them much good if I was dead or captured. But I will not abandon them; I will find a way to get them back. So I stayed back long enough to create some distance and I shadowed them for three miles before another patrol forced me to hide again. Three man team this time.

This one was different though. The other group was obviously a recon team. They were adorned in mishmash gille covers and their Carbines had suppressors. The other one though had hunting rifles and the big one a minigun. My guess is a defense column, which means their base is just up the road.

I can't go in the front. Watching from here there must be three more weapon squads positioned under good cover. Could try to pick them off from here, maybe lure them out. But I'm dealing with mutants here. Bigger, stronger and faster than me.

No, I can't risk it. I'll need to find another entrance. Infiltrate, gather Intel, then exfil out and come up with a plan. But I'll have a very narrow window to do it. Only maybe five hours of darkness left and then it'll be too hot to do anything.

If I'm right about the Mutants, they'll be dead by morning. I went to knee, checked Hunter one more time, pulled at the Bowie at my back and pulled at the MP-K harnessed to my chest. All good, time to move.

"He who dares wins," I sighed remember the verse as I slid down the hill, Hunter in shoulder and making my way to the next hill. I moved in short burst from cover to cover, stopping, listening, checking all around and then sprinting to the next spot and doing the same again. Could hear voices up above me. Grumbling and babblings about things I couldn't understand. But it did provide me my first catch of the day.

They didn't expect company. I made my way around as the road went up a slant hill. Spent a minute creeping when I found my way in. Must've been some kind of back entrance, but it would serve me now. I made my way up through the gap in the rock wall and became crawling on all fours up the hill.

Then I heard it: sound of rock grinding on rock. I bolted, sliding to my left. Then a boulder came rolling down past me and colliding with the ground beneath. Then more followed it. Must've been a good minute before the shower stopped.

Looked up and I couldn't anything up near the lip of the hill. Dunno what caused the rockslide, but I need to be double careful here on up. I made my accent, stopping just below the lip. Slowly, carefully, I popped my head out and look at both sides of the road. I could see three of them seated behind a shack about 20 yards down.

Distracted, good. Now where am I going? There, at the end of the road another set of hills. I pulled down and moved up the road under the lip another ten feet before I came back up. No sense being out of cover any longer than I had to.

I went low and ran silent to the spot, diving in as I did. Another patrol, recon group, came down just a few seconds after I did. I gave them a long berth and waited until they were out of sight. Then I shuttled to my next cover: a broken wall. I blended into the shadows the moment I hit the spot.

Listened and waited, then I moved again. Went into the hill and belly crawled around a good twenty feet until I had to come up. I was situated behind some good cover: broken walls covering my back and sides. I took a look at the route I took, observing the patrols and the patterns to which they made their rounds.

They changed guard every 30 minutes, moving from bottom up and those ontop down. Good to know.

"Wait," I whispered. There was something wrong. Breathing, I could hear breathing. Slow, barely audible but it was there. But where?

I looked behind me, nothing. Was it just my imagination?

"Die human!"

From the corner of my eye, something materialized out from the shadows. Instincts kicked in. I pulled myself forward into a roll and dashed a good several yards. Then there was a loud clang as something metal hit the stone underbrush. I couldn't afford a gunfight being exposed, so I opted to run.

I tucked Hunter under my arm and sprinted to a bolder 15 paces ahead. I slid down the hillside past the boulder and coming up onto the underside. When I reached it, I had my weapon up and ready to take out whoever was following me. Yet when I got there; there was nobody there.

Then it hit me. Super Mutants are heavier than humans. I should've heard it charging after me and it wouldn't have hesitated to do so… Oh hell. Nightkin.

I immediately dropped back from the rockface and trotted down the hill to find better cover. But I hadn't gone five feet when I heard a crackling sound like electricity. I rolled to my side as something metal hit the ground. I turned on my back, Red Hunter placed firmly into my shoulder when I froze. The thing was… monstrous.

The thing was a physical giant, towering over me twice over. It was big, heavily muscled with scraps of clothing covering over its pale blue skin. It glared at me from a contorted face. Ugly, misshapen with a mouthful of jutting, oversized slabs for teeth. Yet it was the eyes that scared me.

I lie, terrified me. They were white orbs with a little block oval where the pupil should have been. They looked… crazy. Oddly, the thing just stood there and stared at me. Like I was doing now.

I took my chance and I fired. Held at the angle I had it to; the kick was heavy as the FMJ .308 round exploded outward. The sound was like the crack of thunder slamming into the salt patties up I-88 as the shot lit up the night around me. The round hit the thing in the chest and it doubled over. Have to finish it.

I moved, bolting in another round. I came upon the thing; its chest a bloody mess. My weapon was a marksman's rifle but it was based off of a hunting one. Designed to kill old-world deer out from 500 yards with a single placed shot under the armpit. I'd never encountered a mutant before, but I heard the stories. I sure as Hell wasn't going to take the chance this was still going to chase me.

I placed the barrel right in its face. Then the thing grabbed me and hurled me into the air. I hit the ground face first. Felt as though I'd been suckered in the chest. Couldn't breathe, seeing white.

Damn it, where's Hunter? Oh hell.

"Stupid human! I'll rip your spleens out and eat them!"

I felt the kick like the Brahmin broadsiding me when I was a kid. Started flying until my back hit the rock. Not sure what hurt more. My ribs, which were probably cracked, or my back. Shit that hurts.

Then I heard him running. He was pissed now. Going straight for the kill instead of getting whatever the hell he was swinging at me. No time to find Hunter now. Time to improvise.

"Stupid human! I'll rip your arms off and chew on them!"

"Yeah eat this!" I croaked my ribs burning as I spoke. I drew the MP-K and I let it rip. The blowback crackled as hot lead started flying from the ejector like hot acid rain. The burst blazed in the night like fire, spurting in and out as the rounds impacted at 550 a second. I'd started at the hip and slowly started moving up as blue skin son of a bitch was ripped apart vertically. Within seven seconds it was over.

The thing fell back with a sound that beckoned its sheer size and weight. Blood pooled from the 33 holes I'd put in it. Most had been centered on its chest, which steamed hot from the heat. Not taking any chances. I rose, my entire torso ache like a gauntlet run back in basic and drew the Bowie.

Felt woozy, wanted to throw up. Hold it in, gotta move fast. I dispatched it with a blow to the side of the head. Damn thing almost didn't want to come out, had to yank it clean. Now, gotta get out of here now; nose bound to draw everything on me.

"Find cover," I whispered to myself. Insides flared like fire when I'd spoke. Ignore the pain, Craig, focus on moving. I turned my head and spotted Hunter out in the distance. Hurt to run, but it hurt less than to talk. I can take it.

Quickly scooped it up and tucked it under my arm. Now I need to find cover. Then something's shadow came up from behind and swallowed me up. Tried to move, but the thing was too fast. Massive arms shade of green scooped me up by the chest.

Another Mutant. Before I could so much as breathe, the thing had cupped a hand the size of my face over my mouth. I started struggling, trying to reach for the Bowie on my back when the thing whispered into my ear:

"Stop human. If you wish to live a second further you will stop."

The voice… was different. Not crazy like the other one. Reasonable, intelligent. Only hope now. I did what he said and we were moving.

He held me like a ragdoll. Probably could hold me up for miles and not even notice. He ran for about a minute before we hit a rock. Then I saw it for what it was. Not a rock, a gille tent.

He tossed me in and I was bathed in absolute darkness only broken when it came in through. The air felt musty. Hot even despite the cold night. I felt around, equipment of sorts lodged about. Couldn't tell what though.

"Keep silent, human," the Mutant spoke in the darkness, "Tabitha's patrols will be sweeping through here in a few minutes. Most won't be able to tell we're here, so let's keep it that way."

"I understand. Did you—see anybody else?"

"Your friends are alive for now. How much longer depends on her and her… moods. What's your name human?"

"Boone," felt like a hot iron poking me saying, "you?"

"Neil."


Veronica


My head felt like somebody had performed craniotomy on me and had then rummaged around in my skull. I tried to open my eyes, but there was a burning bright light above me. Wait am I dead? The aches and pains in my limbs told me otherwise. And on the pain in ass side of things, I couldn't move them either.

Eventually, my vision returned. I looked around and I saw I was in somekind of storeroom. A danky, smelly storeroom. Yeesh. Could it kill them to clean up after themselves once in a while?

Wait, whose they? Then I remembered. And with that I knew where I was. Black Mountain.

"Could this day get any worse?" I groaned sarcastically, then I looked down and I knew it had. The Mutants must've been really surprised when they stripped off the robe. Hell, they must've been trying to pry me out of this thing for a while now. I could see all the tiny spots where they must've applied drills. This was only further confirmed when I saw ting shards of drill bit and sheet metals all around me on the floor.

I smiled smugly. Big dumb Jolly Greens couldn't pry this armor off even if I was missing a head to voice deactivate it. Wait; don't think about that, Veronica. You'll just jinx yourself one step further. No need to do that.

I then looked down my left leg and I sighed in relief. At least they couldn't figure out how to remove the Gauntlet from my thigh. If they had; then I'd really be in trouble. Okay V, how you gonna get yourself out of this? I tried the bonds.

Well they're smarter than I gave them credit for. They had tightened me down so much that I literally couldn't get the pressure space needed to tear out. I even tried wiggling out to see if I could loosen them. No luck. But they were only made of leather.

I just need something to cut myself out. I looked for something that could do the job, but there was nothing within reach. Hmm, looks like I'm going to have to improvise. Well time to be a smartass.

"Hey! Big and ugly! Where are you!? I ordered breakfast twenty minutes ago and you still haven't brought it up! What am I paying you people to do? Oh don't tell me you're smooching in the halls!"

I smiled when I heard the heavy footfalls of the Jolly Greens. About a second later, the door swung wide with a loud crash and in walked about the ugliest thing you could think of times a hundred all covered in pale green. Wait, why does he have mouth suspenders? Ugh, that just makes looking at his teeth all the worse now.

"Shut face, human!' it growled at me with the sound of stone grinding on metal combined with a nasal blockage, "Make Noggas head hurt!"

"Head hurt? Why you big dumb ape! I'll make the rest of you hurt if you don't bring what I ordered! Blueberry pancakes with eggs and syrup! And for you being late you can kiss your tip good bye!"

"Shut face shut face!" he screamed clutching at the side of his head with hands so big he probably couldn't hold a chicken egg without breaking it into a gooy, yellow mess.

"No! You want me to shut face you're gonna have to cut me loose!"

"Noggas not cut you loose! Noggas guard!"

"Noggas is a big diny head!"

"Not diny head!"

"Are too! You a big pudding head! Your brains are made of donkey goop!"

"Shut face, stupid human!"

Suddenly he produced a giant butcher knife like that guy from Psycho. However, unlike that scene I sure as hell wasn't a damsel in distress naked in the shower. He came at me, intent on gutting me and probably eating me for dinner. He swung down and the blade hit my chest with a loud clang! For a second he seemed confused, until he brought up the bent up blade.

"Noggas confused! Noggas not—"

"Noggas gonna go sleepy now."

The Jolly Green had stabbed me right on the chestplate, which had been strapped down. One bent knife and slightly dented plate later, and I was free. I swung right across the table with my left and smacked him right over his head where a nerve cluster just above the left eyebrow lay. He dropped like a pile of bricks. I then quickly ripped my bonds off and jumped off the table.

I peered around just to make sure I was alone, and then I snapped Noggas's neck like a twig. Then I heard another door open and I froze. I'd gotten lucky with this Jolly Green being a royal blockhead, but any more with half a brain and I'd be in trouble real quick. The guttural, nasal voice that followed only confirmed my suspicions.

"Noggas okay? Heard big noise. Noggas okay?"

I thought fast and I made a more or less adequate impersonation of the big dead Super Mutant lying down at my feet:

"Noggas okay! Dumb, tiny human make too much noise. Make Noggas head hurt. Shut her up!"

"Not kill her?"

"Not kill her! Make her go sleepy."

Then a thought occurred to me:

"Noggas wonder where other humans are. Wonder when we gonna chew 'em up!"

"Noggas idiot! Leader want humans alive! Wonder how they have rolly thing!"

Rolly thing? Must mean the Rover. Yeah, I'd be curious too if complete strangers came in on the blacktop with one. Well karma's a hag.

"Noggas wonder where humans be kept!" I pressed the question with him. I have to find out where everybody is before I make my way out of here. There was a long pause before the other guy finally answered:

"Noggas know that already! Place called Maintaa-nnni…"

Maintenance? Good to know. Now enough of this jazz. I reached down to my thigh and detached the nuematic Power Fist from the locking clamp. I placed my hand into the glove and almost immediately the servos inside clicked to life.

With a hiss of hydraulics, the armored carapace folded around my hand and locked into place. Then I flexed my fingers through the armored glove and at last hitting the activation button in my palm. The onboard fusion battery crackled into life and the hydraulic press shield (or as I like to call the hammer) slid into position in front of my hand followed by the kinetic piston.

"Noggas making funny noises! Why make funny noises?"

I did one finally manual check. The compressor was nominal; the Oh-Two exhausts were good. Alrighty then. You know the music, time to dance.

"Noggas doing what—"

"Surprise!"

I lunged from the room, using the door as a springboard to give me just enough momentum for me leap into the air and come down upon the mutant. The Fist smashed into its face; the piston generating an enormous drag force that sent the hammer forward with the sound and strength of a freight train. The mutant was sent colliding backwards and slammed into the wall with such force it left an indent. Its head was a mask of pulverized flesh and smashed bone, but somehow the thing was alive! I wasn't truly surprised; they were of course the walking weapons of an ancient abomination poised to annihilate us mere humans.

So of course they were going to be hard to kill. Before it could move again, I struck once more. And with that the head was no more.

"Messy."

All I could say. I spent the next minute trying to wipe the blood, bone and brain matter that now liberally covered the gauntlet. Not fun, let me tell you. A piece of skull was lodged in the steam exhausted, so I had to disengage the glove and actually remove it with a lay about screwdriver. Once that was done, I made a quick search of the room.

It was about as barren as the room I'd woken up in. Nothing here but a bunch of old cupboards and broken terminals. Man, these idiots let these things rust to crumble. I'm going to have to teach them a lesson in proper tech maintenance… with my fists. Then something rather obvious hit me in a way that made me feel so stupid that I facepalmed my own… well, face.

"There are only two of them here," I breathed. It was clear these chumps knew how dangerous I was. So why were there only two of them here? Surely there had to be more to haul us here; let alone ambush us. So where was everybody else?

I sighed. Well, I sure as hell wasn't going to find that out stuck here in this glorified closet. I moved to the door and open it just a smidgen. Just enough for me to peek in and listen. Up ahead looked like a bigger room than the one I'd come out of, with rows upon rows of desks and tables filled with rusted old junk.

I opened it some more, and there looked like a workbench just in front of me with a bunch of power tools scattered on the end I could see. I then opened it enough for me to poke my head through. Nope there was nobody here.

"Let's go take a look-see."

I opened the door all the way and dove for the table just in front of me. Part of me wondered if the Jolly Greens had brought those blue-skinned bastards, so I took the precaution of taking cover. I listened for anything out of the ordinary. Nope still nothing. Okay let's see—

"Ow!" I messaged my head. I had bumped it against something—oh hell.

"ED-E… what did they do to you?"


Gideon


"You call that a plan!?"

"Don't see any other choice, Rosa. I've tried to go through the door many occasions."

"Let me guess," I interrupted, "they always have a couple next door just to catch you?"

"And here I was think you were just a tuerto cabeza de carne!" he replied with a smile that made his mustache twirl slightly, "Glad to see you're not! I might even start liking you—"

"Alright, alright! 'Nough with the chatter you kiss-ass zombie!"

"My my, the mouth on you. Do you—"

"You so much as mention my mother and I will knock out whatever teeth you have left!"

"My teeth?" he raised his hands to cover his head as he backed a foot back, "Don't touch my teeth! You may kick my culo guapo any way you wish but leave them alone!"

As if to overstate his plead; his mouth opened up to reveal… shinny white teeth? Cass looked kind of shocked as well, giving me the you seeing this look. Most ghouls that I've met are very, very old. We're talking ancient. So a good majority of them are actually missing most if not all of their teeth, granted they often looked like the cherry top of some diseased carcass.

"How the hell are your teeth so damn white?"

He smiled at me with an odd twinkle in his eye.

"I'm a connoisseur when it comes to los blancos viejos, boss. Only one of two things I like to keep well and truly good. Makes up for my shit eyesight and my even shitter knees."

"You are bizarre as fuck, zombie. And I don't say that often."

"Chica like you? I'm surprised at that!"

"The hell's that suppose ta mean!?"

"Damn it you two!" I bellowed at the pair of fools who were starting to drive me nuts with their endless banter. I've had enough of this shit.

"We don't have time for this! We have to get the hell out of here before it is too late! If I hear one more word out of either of you that isn't about getting out of here, then I will club you cold and leave you to get eaten by the freakshows outside!"

Deafly silent. Only way I can describe it. Lasted only about fifteen seconds:

"She started it!"

That's it. I grabbed an ashtray and I hurled it at the smartass. Yet he properly dodged it and the ashtray hit the wall instead. He looked at me indignantly, and I prepared to grab a thermos that was just laying about for no reason.

"Whoa, boss, whoa! I get the idea!"

"You sure? This thermos would look nice on your face."

"As much as I would mind a face redecoration, I'm not in the mood for a metal job! I'll be quiet now."

"Thank you. Cass, you good?"

"If I had whiskey, sure. But I'll manage."

"Good," I replied as I placed the thermos in the center of our "map", "let's go over the plan then."

The Pip Boy was meant to be the most perfect portable and practical computer device ever built. As such it had a massive catalogue of maps and information regarding said maps. But there was one problem. Most of the maps were outdated by nuking which had changed much of the landscape or some other human factor had changed things to a degree that such maps would be pointless to use. We were dealing with the latter here.

The moment I had pulled out the map on the Black Mountain Radar Observation Base, Raul pointed out multiple changes that the Mutants had made to the base. They had reconstructing many new buildings and demolished several old ones. Fortunately, before being 'grounded', Raul had traveled about enough to give us a general idea of the layout of the Super Mutant encampment. That had been represented by the mismatched assortment of junk I had assembled to create an idea of where we needed to go. Raul took one more look at it, nodded his approval and started the briefing:

"This is us here," he pointed to an empty .38 ammo box, "first; we need to get your gear back. Without a substantial amount of bullets and bombs, we can nuestros asnos un beso adios before we've even started. Unless Tabitha's suddenly had a sudden mood swing and decided to move everything over somewhere else, they should be located here," he pointed a deck of cards to the far right of where we were separated by a big open space as well as three cups hugging a wire that represented the perimeter fence, "we'll use the air vent system in this building to sneak outside."

Cass visibly grumbled at this. She was claustrophobic in very tight spaces. That was why she was going to be in the middle with me in the back and Raul in the front.

"Assuming basta de piel verde don't spontaneously spring on us from a cleverly concealed cardboard box, we'll make our way here to the fence. From there we hug it and sneak past oh about a dozen or so all heavily armed and ready to eat us at first chance."

"You're not sounding optimistic."

"Would you prefer if I said we could just stroll out of here and casually shoot them without even aiming? Boss, this plan is as stupid as anything I can come up with it, but we're stuck with it."

"I'd rather take slim over being stuck in here."

"See? That's what I like about you, jefe. You have an unnatural hope that everything is va a ser color de rosa!"

"Never said anything about this being peachy," I replied with a smile, "but I can work with this."

"Sure boss. Happy to die screaming right next to you and your—companion. Now where was I? Ah yes. Assuming we aren't chewed to bits, we then make our way to the store room."

"What sorta building is it?" Cass asked.

"It's one of the few prewar building the mutants haven't torn down yet. Two stores, and it has a balacany with a door I know is never locked."

"How high up is it?"

"High enough you'd have to stand on somebody. Hopefully not me, these old bones cannot stand up to much."

"Would you like to test that theory?" Cass grinned at him. Raul shook his head.

"Sure when we don't have crazy mutants looking to grill us. Granted, probably not even after that."

"We're getting off topic here," I cut in, "once we get onto the balcony and hopefully through a not locked door, what should we expect?"

"One very stupid mutant. Guys got rocks instead of brains, so they stuck him somewhere where he wouldn't cause trouble. Shouldn't be too difficult to put down."

"Should?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. He grinned.

"Come on boss, I thought you were the one who said he could work with impossible odds and now you tener los pies frios?"

"Point taken. So they should have everything we need?"

"Unless you've got something Tabitha's all keen about, say an impossible, army vaporizing hammer of el dios that looks like a toy."

"That a joke, Raul? Because if you've got one of those lying around…"

"I kidd, boss. If these el piel verde de estupidos had one, don't you think I would've used it right about now? Instead of playing the not so pretty damsel in distress?"

"I dunno," Cass chimed in, "get you in a dress and I think you could play the part."

"Gracias, pero no gracias."

"So once we arm up, we'll need to then locate the rest of our party. Where would they be?"

"The robot's easy. See the freakshow of this whole thing, Tabitha, has been trying to fix some old Mr. Handy for a while now. Even though I've opened him up three times now. That lata oxidada vieja lata is as dead as my sex life."

"Okay… didn't need to know that."

"So they'd gut him for parts?"

I knew the answer already. If they so much as scratch his hide, I'm going to drop a whirlwind of pain on these fuckers. But that'll have to wait.

"So where would he be?"

"He?" he looked at me funny.

"You heard me, he. So where is he?"

"Here," he pointed at a cup across the compound directly in front of us to the left of the massive tequila bottle that served as the long range radio tower, "and considering your oddly dressed friend isn't with us, that'd mean she's got something special on her. She could be anywhere."

"Special?" Cass asked, "I mean, don't get me wrong she's cute and a big smarty pants, but—"

"I think I know why," I interrupted, "I've suspected sense she—well—"

"Kicked your ass?" Cass inquired with a wry smile. I nodded.

"She's had training. I mean very serious training. On top of that she was verbally dissecting ED-E part by part. Then she asked me if I'd heard of the Brotherhood."

"Brotherhood? You don't think—"

"I do. And Boone's not gonna like it."

Cass nodded solemnly. The Republic was still recovering from their war with those techno-hoarders. And when I say recovering… well they nearly bankrupted the NCR when they blew up their entire gold depository. Tons upon tons of gold, gone. And that's not even the worst of it.

So it wasn't too unlikely what might happen should Boone figured out what we figured out. Well, another problem for another day.

"So to make that trip, we're going to have to cross a very big open field with all the cards stacked on their side. Even if we had heavy machine guns, they'd cut us down with a snap."

"Not if we take out the tower," Cass pointed out by tipping over the tequila bottle, "big enough boom at the left side should bring it down towards us."

"Be a good distraction," Raul nodded, "provide us cover as we go in. You can make that shot?"

With this, Cass grinned.

"I can."


Translation

apuesto hijo de puta

handsome son of a bitch

feo mierda

ugly shit

pastel de fresas

strawberry shortcake

que se obtiene en sus bragas

he gets in your panties

tuerto cabeza de carne

one-eyed meathead

culo guapo

handsome ass

los blancos viejos

the old whites

nuestros asnos un beso adios

we can kiss our asses goodbye

tener los pies frios?

have cold feet?