Charon looked up when he heard gagging coming from the corner, wondering what could possibly make someone who sucked the crud out of radroach legs and ignored feral blood facials on occasion want to puke. What it was was a Centaur, all three tongues wrapped around Cort's head and neck as she flailed at it.
"FUCK!" Both the ghoul and the dog bolted for the pair, who were rapidly moving into the room, Cort being pushed backwards by the hideous chimera with her legs dragging underneath it.
Dogmeat tore into the side of the monster's neck, savaging it as Charon pressed the barrel of his shotgun into the side away from Cort and the dog and fired. Chunks and ropey strings of entrails splattered against the wall as Cort collapsed to the floor, still wheezing, the head torn from the Centaur's body on her chest. Her lips were turning blue as she scrabbled at her neck, one eye rolling desperately onto Charon, the other blocked from sight by one of the disgusting tongues.
"Fucking head won't let the fuck go!" The dog was in total hysterics, not able to latch on without biting down into Cort. Charon pulled out his combat knife and sliced the head free from the tongues, then swore even harder. "Fucking tongues won't let go, FUCK!" Cort's visible eye started rolling back into her head and she writhed even harder, grasping at his legs. Charon knelt and ran a hand over his face, thinking rapidly, then buried it firmly into his employer's hair. "Hold still." Visibly straining to, she quieted as much as possible as he started slicing through the slimy ropes of tissue crisscrossing her neck. Finally cutting through all of the tough flesh, he let go as Cort rolled into his knees and hurled the contents of her stomach across the torn linoleum, whooping in gales of breath between the expulsions. Charon grabbed hold of the remaining severed chunks stuck to her face and flung them against the wall.
Giving one final heave, Cort rested her forehead against the side of his leg. "What the hell was that."
"That was a Centaur. May I suggest not putting your fool head directly next to a door while we're fucking around with Super Mutants." Cort pushed away and glared at him, wiping her mouth.
"I didn't hear it."
"You won't in the best of circumstances until they're right on top of you. Even the mutt didn't. They're not very dangerous, but the spidery little fuckers are quiet, and they hear everything. Mutants use them as some kind of fucked up guard dog." Charon stood up and held a hand out, hauling Cort up in one motion when she grabbed it. Wobbling, she started scraping the irradiated saliva off of her neck and face, dimly taking note of the few shallow wounds received from the knife. Suffocating apparently cut down on her ability to stop squirming entirely.
"Yeah, real not dangerous."
"Well, most people try to avoid fucking frenching them."
"Most people probably know they exist. Maybe cause someone tells them they do." Cort coughed and spat into the dark, leaning slightly to pet Dogmeat, who was still quietly whining. "Momma's okay." Shaking her head to clear it, she retrieved her repeater and helmet from where they had skidded, then moved towards the door. "Christ, let's get this over with."
The next room turned out to be a small cafeteria and they raided the vending machines, Cort greedily chugging down a Nuka Cola from one of them to get rid of the filthy taste in her mouth. Quietly placing the bottle down, she pocketed the cap and moved deeper into the building. After a few degraded rooms, they emerged into a cavernous atrium leading deeper into the Hospital. Narrowing her eyes, Cort leveled her repeater and flipped up the sight. There was movement at the far end, partly illuminated by light filtering through the towering sets of windows to the right. Blinking rapidly, she waited for the shape to resolve itself and then fired, smiling when it collapsed. She turned to stick her tongue out at Charon and then started creeping towards a nearby door after consulting her Pip-Boy.
Opening it, she was delighted. "Ooh. Terminals." Cort bee-lined for the brightly lit one and started ripping through its protocols, tapping her tongue on the front of her teeth. Moments later, they heard the sound of turret fire from outside, along with mutants bellowing. Smiling blissfully, Cort waited for the noise to stop. "No more turrets, less intact mutants. Perfect." She moved over when Charon beckoned her to the other one. "What's the spinny thing on the top?"
"Something you'd probably kill yourself with because it fascinated you. Turn your light on and shield it from the door, it's lesson time." Cort watched intently as Charon taught her how to disable the booby-trapped terminal and then retrieved the frag grenade. He had decided to take the initiative on anything he hadn't seen with her or heard her mention after the Centaur incident. "Some of them won't wait for you to turn them off, so if you hear beeping when you see them, act quick or fucking run. Better yet, fucking run and come get me." After finishing up and breaking into a safe on the wall, they moved back to the door, Cort frowning at her Pip-Boy.
"There's at least three more out there at the far end. They must have come down after I shot the first one." Cort bit her lip. "Grenades and then shoot?"
"Yes." Charon pulled out the one he had just taken from the terminal and two others. "I can throw farther than you. Get ready to take their heads off." Opening the door and crouching forward, Cort followed and then braced on one knee, sighting down the hall. Charon pulled the pins and hurled them towards the mutants, who turned to face the clattering noise they made when they landed between them, Cort firing rapidly before they exploded. They waited a moment in silence after the echos had died down, then reloaded when nothing moved.
All three of them scrabbled through the debris and rotting desks lining the huge room, pulling out anything useful. Cort started plunging her arms in the the net bags of rotting body parts after Dogmeat had pawed at one of them, and Charon found a large cache of ammunition in one of the corners. Coming around to scavenge the downed mutants, Cort swore quietly. A freaking Mini-Gun. We got very very lucky. Scanning it, she quickly read through the manual, turning to the ghoul when he came out of the darkness. "Do you know how to use one of these things?"
"Not well."
"Neither do I, and I don't think I want to try and learn on the fly in here, especially with the warm up period." Cort looked around and then switched out her repeater for the Chinese assault rifle after observing the closer quarters coming up. "Let's go clear those corridors before heading upstairs. Sign says there's treatment rooms and surgery down there, has to be some nice stuff."
Moving through decrepit rooms and hallways and occasionally blasting at Super Mutants, plus another Centaur(Cort beating this to an absolute pulp after Charon shot it), they found a plethora of supplies, strewn in cabinets, first aid boxes, safes and caches from previous visitors. All of their packs were nearly filled even after using up a portion of them to treat themselves, and they became relaxed enough to fuss at each other.
"Would you stop pissing your damn pants every time you bump into an old stiff?"
"They wig me out, why do they have to twitch if you even tap them?"
"Because they really really like you and feel like having a slow dance."
"Oh God, no. Nonono."
They found a Mister Handy in one locked room filled with first aid boxes, which Cort nearly shot until she realized it was non-hostile. She followed it bemusedly on its ancient rounds for a little while, acting as if it was still treating people, until she became too depressed to look at it any longer and started to hiccup. "Let's head upstairs Charon, we've cleared everything."
Reaching the top, she paused when her Pip-Boy quietly beeped. Charon leaned forward to peer at it.
"What is it?"
Cort spun the volume dial down and punched a button, quiet static pouring out of the speaker before she turned it off again. "New radio signal, really low transmission strength. 'Ranger Emergency Frequency'." She leaned against the wall, frowning. Static probably wasn't good, but they'd made it this far towards their goal. Shrugging, she hoisted her assault rifle and moved towards the door. "Well, we might as well keep going. Made it this far, and it doesn't mean they're dead for sure."
Dogmeat started pawing at his face as soon as they entered the new area, and Charon tugged back on Cort's sleeve. "Gas leak. See the shimmer? Watch this." Pulling out his 10mm, he shot into the hallway, and Cort grinned and clapped softly as the entire back length lit up, torching another Centaur. After ranging through the rest of the floor and clearing it of the remaining mutants, they found an even larger cafeteria than the one below, and loaded the last of their pack space with food. Locating a door back outside to Vernon Square on the blasted side of the Hospital, Cort squinted into the night and sighed heavily. Today had been far too long and she was getting cranky.
"Okay, well here's the collapsed radio tower Reilly talked about. Let's play spider, shall we?" Cort going first, Charon nudged the dog in front of him as they carefully crawled over to the other side, Dogmeat nimbly placing his paws on the slats and bars. This was another reason he had suggested taking this on at night, going over this thing in daylight was begging to be shot up like a damned tin can for target practice. He lowered the dog to Cort after she had swung down, then dropped beside her on the Statesman side.
Nudging open the door into the hotel, he waved them both forward. "Nothing." They walked onto the remaining ledge of what had been an upper room, hidden from view from the one below it. Cort stripped off her pack and laid her gun down, Charon frowning at her. "What. Are you doing."
"I'm going to check out the rest of this little area, nosy. There's nothing on my Pip-Boy and I want to confirm something Reilly told me." Cort dug a rope out, handed it to him, and slipped down. "Just lift me up when I come back. Stay, Dogmeat." Cort skittered over the ruined carpet and around the corner, trying not to sneeze as she knocked the yellowing wallpaper on it loose. One end was collapsed and the other had a dead Super Mutant with two still very active frag grenade traps in front of the only other door. "Perfect." She ran back and let Charon pull her up. "There's only one way in here, aside from the door we came in, and it's booby trapped. I want to have a little rest and maybe eat something again before we get shot at some more." Slumping against the wall, she yawned deeply and then rubbed vigorously at her neck, grumbling.
"Neck still hurt? We do have a shitload of Med-X, if you can figure out which way it goes in." Tired out, starving and in a dirty mood, Cort snapped back at him much harder than she meant to.
"No, it's just itchy from where you cut me up, you fucking idiot. I'll take care of that particular matter after we're finished with all the heavy lifting." Charon jerked back so hard his head rebounded off the wall and she looked over at him, exasperated. "If you just gave yourself a fucking headache, don't bitch at me for it later." Cort removed the cover and fiddled with her Pip-Boy before flopping over on her pack, pushing her helmet to the side. "I'll leave the clock on display. Wake me in two hours, and then you can sleep for two hours, and then we'll eat and go." Taking his silence for agreement, she fell asleep almost immediately.
When her quiet snores had started, Charon shuffled carefully over and looked at her neck in the dim light starting to come from under the door. Swearing under his breath, he felt a cold weight settle somewhere into his gut. He had cut her; counting he found at least half a dozen short slices and nicks running from the base to up her right ear. Some were weeping again from her pawing at them earlier. That was it then. Directly injuring his employer was inexcusable. He should have been more careful, pulled the lantern out to see better, or just formulated another plan that did not involve sawing his knife around her fucking head. And she was going to take care of him later when she could afford to, after they had finished with this particular mission. He'd known it, just known that sooner or later the hammer would have to come down on him. It always did, sooner or later from every employer, especially the smoothskins. The amount of freedom he'd been allowed to have after so long had lulled him into a false sense of security and resulted in something that had never happened before. Something that was forbidden to happen.
Fighting down panic, Charon briefly considered letting her sleep through the entire four hours she had decided to set aside as penance, then dismissed it. It hadn't been a direct order, but following a serious transgression with another one of any size would only compound what she would do to him later. Staring at the wall gloomily, he went over every possible punishment he could think of in his head. They ranged from simple ones, like forced exercise until exhaustion, to one excruciating experience when he had been directed to roll in broken glass over and over by an employer who figured out physical violence had to be physically from them to invalidate his contract.
Gnawing away at him most of all was the knowledge that he wasn't exactly sure what to expect from Cort. Vault dwellers had always been known for being notoriously unstable, and she was not proving to be an exception. While generally mild-tempered in his limited experience, Cort could be wildly erratic in her responses to things. One minute she was calmly executing some well thought out plan, and the next going completely ballistic when something set her off. Charon groaned and rested his head against the wall. Too much. Way too much.
Those damn skeletons DID wig me the hell out the first time around. One touch and they'd fling into your face. At least enemies would show up in V.A.T.S., those things were just evil.
