Mutatis Mutandis 37
Now this was Narg's kind of fight! A head-long charge into enemy lines. He reveled in the chaos. The Wastelanders' charge had driven the mutants all the way back to the concrete fortress of Project Purity. Now the army had split in half, with the bulk of Jackrum's forces heading towards Rivet City. Narg himself had a platoon of followers, mostly wasters from Megaton, and a few enclave personnel. The Mutants had used enormous slabs of concrete to surround Project Purity in an enormous circular maze with far too many dead ends and kill zones. A challenging assault for any regular wastelander.
Narg was anything but regular. He approached at a brisk walk, marching across the bridge and cutting down the swaths of mutants which fled before him towards the safety of the concrete maze. He gave chase, using his BOZAR to pop mutant heads as they appeared above the battlements.
He reached the concrete maze with little effort. An armoured overlord was waiting with another supersledge. Narg dodged its first stroke, which turned the concrete wall beside him to dust. The Chosen One shove the tip of his BOZAR through a slit in the overlord's helmet and emptied half his magazine into the gap. The mutant fell to the ground, blood oozing from its helmet.
A grenade landed beside Narg, and he took a few steps back, pushing an overeager wastelander behind him, and turning his head to the side, protecting the lenses and gaps in his helmet. The grenade exploded with a dull whumph, sending shards of shrapnel flying in all directions. Tiny wisps of dust puffed from a dozen different spots on the walls of the narrow corridor. At the same moment, Narg felt something impact his armoured leg, and he heard a sharp hiss. Liquid sprayed out from his knee joint in a thin stream.
A piece of shrapnel had managed to find its way between the armour plates, where it had punctured a hydraulic tube. He grunted in frustrating as his armour locked up momentarily. He could hear and feel the cachunk of valves rerouting hydraulic fluid away from the leak and through secondary hydraulic systems.
He stood there, still as a statue for about four seconds, and then his armour unlocked, allowing him the freedom of movement he so enjoyed. At that same moment, a mutant with a hunting rifle poked its head up over a low point in the concrete barricade, and took a potshot. The bullet bounced off Narg's chest and ricocheted one more time off the slab at his side, leaving a dull white mark.
Narg marched up to the wall and drove his fist through it, grabbing the mutant by the throat and dragging it back, pulling the wall down, and moving one layer closer to Project Purity. The mutant landed at his feet, and he stomped on its chest a few times, crushing it. The new corridor he had opened up was full of its brothers, and he moved quickly, gunning them down as they came.
The wastelanders following him had managed to catch up, though they were spread thin, engaged in vicious close-range trench combat, where the mutants held the advantage.
"Chosen One!" An enclave trooper cried, pointing down another corridor. A supermutant overlord was advancing slowly down the corridor, holding up an entire car in front of it like a riot shield. The wastelander bullets bounced harmlessly off its undercarriage.
Narg jogged a few meters down a parallel trench, and when he judged the distance was right, he rammed the concrete wall with his shoulder, pushing the slab over, and appearing just behind the surprised overlord, who was holding the car up with one thick, veiny arm, and a sledgehammer with the other. Narg sank his fist into its kidneys and it fell to one knee, arching its back against the pain. He reached over its head, hooked his fingers in its mouth and pulled upwards. The mutant gurgled and fell sideways, clutching what little was left of its face.
A heavy weight fell against Narg's shoulders, driving him to one knee. There had been a pack of nearly a dozen mutants behind the overlord, and they fell upon him with fury, bearing him to the ground.
Yet the car had fallen over, exposing them to the laser guns of the enclave soldiers, who opened up immediately, cutting them down, and chasing them away from the Chosen One.
"Are you alright, sir?" they asked respectfully, helping him to his feet.
Narg nodded, taken aback by their politeness. Yet they all knew that without him, they wouldn't be making such incredible progress. They had been among Jackrum's army during the Mercenary's drive northward, and they knew that Narg had saved their hides. It was an awkward alliance, but while they had his brute power at their disposal, they intended to keep things on friendly terms.
"The Wasteland army is in trouble, sir." One hellfire trooper reported. "They say there's a group of mutants with Gatling lasers on Project Purity's eastern rampart. They've pinned Jackrum's forces and they can't advance to Rivet City."
Narg sighed. "Do I have to do everything myself?"
The troopers exchanged confused glances.
"Alright, alright. Let's go." Narg began to ram his way through the maze, tearing down every concrete slab which got in his way. He knew the ramparts, of course, they had existed before the mutants had taken control of the wasteland. The outflow pipes ran below them. They provided an excellent view of the outflow pond, and the wasteland around it; the exact area Jackrum was trying to cross. Add to that the elevation and the corrugated steel plates the mutants had used to turn the ramparts into battlements, and it would not take much to control the fields between Rivet City and the Potomac.
Narg wrenched down the last slab, reaching the innermost layer of the supermutant defenses. His team closed up behind him, finding themselves being assaulted from all directions by angry green muties.
The moment he pulled the wall down, a hail of bullets rained down from surrounding battlements. Mutants were standing in the columns of the memorial itself, taking cover behind the husks of cars, and fallen Nuka Cola machines.
Narg shrugged off his Avenger minigun and sprayed the ramparts all around him, cutting a deadly trail from one mutant to the next. The advantage of standing in the center of the mutant defenses was that aside from the mutants on the memorial, none of the surrounding beasts had anything to hide behind; their defenses were designed to repel a large-scale attack from the outside.
Narg had faced much worst during his own adventures out west, but this was his kind of battle. None of the Vault Dweller's complicated tactics and stratagems, and none of the Wanderer's sneaking. Narg had the better armour, and he had the better minigun. He put them both to use, and within ten seconds, he had decimated the supermutants. The empty area ran red with mutant blood. Corpses were piled against every wall. The mutants cowered in their little castle atop the memorial, taking the occasional pot shot, but Narg knew that he had just broken the back of Project Purity's supermutant defenses. Before him lay a fifty-meter circle of open ground, surrounded by an empty concrete maze. There was a small door in the nearby wall, and beside it, the ramparts which were apparently giving Jackrum so much trouble.
Narg left the wasters to deal with the remaining mutants. He charged up the ramparts to flush out the band of mutants and give Jackrum the help he needed.
The supermutants had carved up buses, hanging the remains along the outer railing of the rampart to give themselves decent cover. Yet there was still only one way up, and it was better defended than Narg had expected. As he reached the top of the ramp, a car hit him in the gut. Not a full-sized model, thank god, but one of the smaller, three-wheeled Fusion Flea Supreme. An overlord had picked up the vehicle and hurled it at him.
It hit him in the gut, winding him, and sending him tumbling back down the ramp. His BOZAR landed at the bottom. The car rolled off of him and slid to the side, getting edged against the railing. Narg had barely recovered when the Overlord brought a supersledge down on his chest. Narg's power armour squealed in protest, but the thick armoured plating held, and underneath it the hydraulic exoskeleton was still functional.
Narg kicked out, hitting the mutant's knee as it wound up for another blow. It fell, but turned the setback into an advantage, landing on top of him and wrapping its thickset arms around him in a deadly bear hug. They rolled down the ramp together, Narg kicking and elbowing as best he could. The mutant struggled to keep its grip, and it gripped the breathing tubes attached to Narg's helmet, ripping them away. Unfiltered wasteland air filled Narg's helmet. Suddenly he could smell the blood and smoke of the battle.
The Chosen One's armour was beginning to groan against the pressure of the overlord's squeezing. Narg felt a bolt shear, then another as the superstructure of his armour bent. He whipped his head back and knocked the back of his helmet against the mutant's nose. It yelped and loosened its grip just enough to let him go.
Narg pushed away and slid down the ramp, grabbing his BOZAR at the bottom. He rolled onto his back and unloaded a clip into the Fusion Flea. The car exploded like a mininuke, biting an enormous chunk out of the ramp, and taking most of the overlord with it.
Narg struggled to his feet again and reloaded. At the top of the ramp, several supermutant masters lined up with their Gatling lasers. He sighted down the barrel and opened up, spraying them all with 5.56mm rounds. For the second time, he charged up the ramp, shooting mutants as they came. He cleared the ramparts in seconds and took a moment for himself. One the ground below, Jackrum's forces moved forward, striking out for Rivet City.
Jackrum had tried to move east around Project Purity, letting the Chosen One take the fortress. The old merc thanked his lucky stars that the Tribal had chosen to fight alongside them. Between him, the Wanderer, and the Enclave, there was a very real chance the wastelanders could win this fight.
The moment Jackrum's army turned the corner and had an open view of Rivet City, the ramparts of the Project Purity fortress had lit up, spraying every inch of ground with deadly lasers. Mercs and wasters alike found themselves pinned under meager cover, hiding from the fortress ramparts, but still very much exposed to those mutants who were gathered around Rivet City.
Heavy gunfire had been exchanged inside the fort as the Chosen One took the ramparts, then an explosion, and after that the lasers had ceased.
Jackrum ordered his men forward in loose formations. The ground between Project Purity and Rive City was nearly devoid of meaningful cover. Especially when supermutants were perched on Rivet City's flight deck, which offered a perfect view of the surrounding wasteland. Wasteland snipers did their best to counter, but progress was difficult, and the losses were heavy. Eventually over a third of Jackrum's available forces were immobilized, focused solely on suppressing the mutants atop Rivet City.
Gunfire could still be heard in the bowels of the ship; in those confined spaces the city's residents held a distinct advantage. But the mutants held the top decks, and more of them were pouring across the lowered drawbridge at every minute. Enough to overwhelm the city.
Jackrum stood at the wall of the mutant's purifier fortress. He had acquired a hunting rifle, and was with Turner, trying to add what support he could. Despite their best efforts, the wasteland forces were taking too much punishment. The field was littered with dead wastelanders, and more than a few Enclave personnel who had tried to make a difference. They could handle the fire coming from the mutants on the ground. But from Rivet City's flight deck, they commanded the entire stretch of open ground.
Jackrum tapped Enclave Officer Campbell on the shoulder, yelling over the gunfire. "Can you get another message to the Chosen One? I need him on Rivet City's flight deck now!"
"Yes sir!" she replied dutifully, thumbing her radio.
Narg was at the door to Project Purity when an Enclave soldier tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, glaring through his helmet at the man. "What?"
"The wastelanders have encountered a setback, Tribal. I've called in a Vertibird. They want to drop you on the aircraft carrier's flight deck. The orders come from Commander Jackrum."
Narg paused a minute, listening to the intensity of the gunfire. He said, "And you guys can take the purifier?"
"No," the trooper admitted, "But we can keep the mutants bottled up inside."
Narg glanced around at his ragged band. Merc, Enclave, and Waster, they all looked exhausted, but equally as determined to keep fighting. "That'll have to do, won't it?" He said.
The vertibird was already approaching, speeding across the water, fast and low. It's rotors roared as they beat the air. Several rockets exploded around it as mutants atop Rivet City tried to take it down, but it managed to touch down in the fortress's tiny courtyard, sending gusts of wind whirling around Project Purity. A panel in the side slid open, and an enclave officer waved Narg inside.
The interior was a cramped space with low seats so small that with his power armour, Narg could barely fit into them. When he stood, he had to bend over to avoid smacking his helmet on the dull brown roof. The officer accompanying him edged past to the pilot and tapped him on the shoulder.
"We've got the Chosen One. Let's go."
Narg gave his little squad one last wave as the door slid shut. The rotors began to turn, causing the entire craft to vibrate as it lifted up into the air. Narg stood in the center of the cabin, gripping the handles which ran along the roof of the aircraft. The enclave officer turned back to him, sliding the door between the cabin and the passenger area shut.
Narg fle thte sensation of movement, but he knew immediately something was off. The Vertibird was turning too far, and in the wrong direction. The enclave officer standing in front of him was wearing an innocent look.
Far too innocent.
Something was wrong.
"Where are we going?" Narg asked carefully.
"Just stay calm, sir." The officer said reassuringly.
"Rivet City's that way." Narg pointed back towards the rear of the aircraft. "What exactly are you guys trying to pull?"
As he spoke the officer went pale. They stared at each other for a breathless moment, then the man pulled out his plasma pistol and pointed it at Narg with a trembling hand. "You're coming with us. You're under arrest for the destruction of American Government Property, the murder of American Citizens, and the assassination of President Richardson. Stand down, or I'll be forced to-"
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Narg grabbed the man's hand, frcing the energy pistol away. The officer managed to get a shot off, which whizzed over Narg's shoulder and melted a patch of the ceiling. The Chosen One's other hand rammed four times into the man's face, knocking him silly, and driving him to his knees. Gripping him by the throat, Narg dragged him over to the hatch and pulled the bright red emergency release lever. Wind filled the cabin. Red lights flashed and Alarms blared. Down below, Narg could see that they were passing over the west bank of the Potomac, and away from the battle.
"When you want something done right…" He muttered, tossing his prisoner out the open hatch. He crossed the cabin, hand over hand, and began to beat against the cockpit hatch, striking dents deeper and deeper into the metal until light shone through a thin tear. He rammed his fist through, and when he pulled back, the pilot fire a few laser beams through the hole, scorching the breastplate of Narg's armour.
Narg grabbed the ragged edges of the tear and began to peel the door open from the center, twisting and bending the metal until he could see the pilot, who fired off another three beams over his shoulder. Narg was forced to duck aside for a moment, but he came back and ripped the laser pistol out of the pilot's hands, pressing it to his prisoner's skull. "Turn around."
"I can't do that, sir."
"Turn the fuck around or I'll throw you right through the canopy."
"You're under arrest, sir. Please cooperate."
"You guys are ridiculous." Narg kicked and scrambled his way into the cockpit, utterly destroying the door in the process. They were just passing over the Arlington library when he tore away the pilot's straps and grabbed him by the back of the shirt. The Chosen one picked up the protesting Enclave pilot and threw him clear through the Vertibird's canopy. The pilot shrieked as he fell, vanishing for a moment below the nose of the aircraft, but reappearing as it too began to fall. He hit the parking lot outside the Arlington library and turned into a bright red speck.
Narg tore the pilot's seat out and tossed it into the crew cabin, the Vertibird was nearly in freefall, with alarms blaring at him from every panel. He grabbed the joystick, levelling off the aircraft, nd pulled it into a sharp turn, heading back towards Rivet City. Cold, harsh winds whipped past him through the broken canopy and out the open rear of the aircraft.
Within less than a minute, he was crossing the Potomac. Narg pulled back on the Vertibird's controls forcing it higher and higher above the battle. He could see Jackrum's forces off to his left, pinned in the killing fields between Project Purity and Rivet City. The broken bow of the aircraft carrier passed under him, and he could see the mutants firing rockets from the deck of the ship. When he judged he was directly over their heads, Narg cut the engines, putting the protesting aircraft into freefall. He saw a dozen yellow specks trailing black smoke flying up from the deck to meet him as he fell, and he leapt from the aircraft, pushing away with his feet, and aiming for the largest orange shape on the flight deck.
The rockets slipped past him, filling the air with smoke. Behind him, he heard them impact the broken Vertibird. It exploded, showering the sky with radiation and debris. Narg was more concerned with the Supermutant overlord below him. He had around a second and a half to register its shocked expression and curl into a ball before he hit it in the chest. Its soft flesh cushioned the blow, but the force of the impact still sent Narg and what little was left of the overlord right through the flight deck. They slammed into the floor a deck and half below, leaving a deep crater in the corrugated deck plates of Rivet City's market.
Shocked silence fell as every Joint in Narg's body let out a twinge of protest. He could taste blood. Groaning, he pulled off his helmet and spat a gob of blood and spit down into the gorey morass which used to be a Supermutant Overlord. A white tooth shone against the red. One of his own, he discovered, after a moment's investigate. He scowled and spat another gob on top of the first.
He rose to his feet and dusted himself off, wiping some of the gore from his arms and shoulders. His armour had dampened most of the impact. It had been a powerful piece of equipment when he had first taken it from Frank Horrigan. The Vault Dweller's upgrades had exponentially improved upon its original design. It had been a long time since Narg had put it to the test like this. Hell, it had been a longer time since he'd had this much fun.
About ten meters ahead of him was a sandbag barricade. Around thirty members of Rivet City security were bunkered down there, rifles levelled straight across at him. They looked stunned and surprised by his entrance. Narg glanced backwards to see what they had been aiming at. Around forty mutants were standing at the far end of the Markets, toting their own weapons and looking equally as startled by his sudden appearance.
"Howdy, boys…" Narg slipped his helmet on and hefted his super sledgehammer, "Let's get down to business."
The Brotherhood scattered, even as the abomination tore Glade's weapon from his hand and smashed it against the concrete ground. It launched itself into the small band, kicking and snarling as its grasping hands hunted for a target. Its foot landed in Kodiak's gut, sending the Paladin flying across the room, only to curl up and lay still. A brotherhood solider managed to get four rounds off, three of them striking the monster in the abdomen. Yet as fast as the wounds opened, they closed again.
Snarling, the creature grabbed the unfortunate soldier by the shoulderpads and whipped him clear overhead, bringing him down on one of the rusted beams, skewering him neatly.
"Run!" Glade ordered. Two other Brotherhood soldiers bolted form the entrance. The last laying down his life to buy his brother's time. He kneeled and opened fire on the supermutant creation, which moved from side to side, dodging the incoming bullets.
It reached the poor man in seconds and rammed its fist straight through his rib cage, wasting no time in moving to his comrades. It caught them in the doorway, and beat them against the concrete walls until there was nothing left.
Glade scampered to the iron beams and grabbed his dead brother's assault rifle. He levelled it at the shadowy silhouette in the doorway and opened fire. The beast turned, glowing eyes narrowing upon him, even as he emptied his clip. Glade reloaded as the creature burst towards him with incredible speed. It threw itself across the floor of the cistern, gaining ground meters at every step.
Glade slapped a new magazine into place as it reached him, arm raised for a killing strike.
A shot rang out from Glade's left, and a bullet passed neatly through the abomination's skull. It pirouetted neatly, bouncing off the rusted beam underneath which Glade had taken cover, and fell into the flood pool, sinking down below the murky surface.
Panting, Glade backed away, rifle pointed shakily at the still waters. He glanced across the room at Paladin Kodiak, his savior. The younger soldier was sitting on the ground, legs out and rifle levelled. His breath was labored and harsh, and his grip was equally shaky.
"Thanks, Greg." Glade whispered, his throat dry.
A bubble rose to the surface of the pond, and Glade backed away further, reaching down to give Paladin Greg a hand up.
Another bubble rose up and popped. Then a third, echoing loudly in the silence.
"Let's get the fuck out of here!" Greg urged.
Glade nodded and they retreated down the hall, stepping over the bodies of their comrades, and away from the silent, eerie flood pools.
Things had only gotten worse for Jackrum's army. They were pinned down, bleeding troops, and being forced slowly back from Rivet City. He had watched as the Vertibird landed at Project Purity and took off. Just as his hopes had been raised by the Chosen One's success in almost single-handedly taking the fortress, so too had they been dashed when the Vertibird turned tail and began to fly back west, carrying the most effect warrior in his army with it.
At that same moment, he noticed a definite drift in the movements of the Enclave troops across the battlefield. They were retreating, step by step, just a little faster than the Wastelanders were being forced by the defending mutant army.
They were retreating, he realized. He turned away from the skirmish lines, and ran back through his troops, searching for Turner and more importantly, young Officer Campbell, his protégé's sweetheart. As he moved, several supermutants took pot shots at him. Bullets nipped at his heels, and he sped up, ducking as he ran.
He found them bunkered down behind a hunk of concrete at the northern end of the battlefront. Turner gave him a grim look as he approached, and he realized the young man already knew. Young Campbell was there as well, yelling obscenities into her headset.
"Sir-" Turner began, but Jackrum shove him aside and tore the headset off of Campbell's face. He ducked against the concrete barrier and screamed into it. "Summers! What the hell are you doing? We had a deal!"
There were barely any Enclave troopers left on the front lines. The wastelanders were being pushed back at a much faster rate than before, leaving their dead behind as they skipped back from cover to cover in something approaching a full retreat.
"I'm pulling out Commander," Summers explained firmly. "We're down to thirty-five percent strength, and I've lost over half my vertibirds in this stupid battle."
"We had a deal!" he roared hoarsely.
"I've been given new orders. We'll wait until you're dead. Then we'll take what we want and head west. You primitives aren't worth the cost of good American lives. For the record, I'm sorry Jackrum"
"If I ever see you again, I'm going to shoot you in the fucking face you fucking bitch!" Jackrum hurled the headset away. It bounced against the pavement and shattered. "Fucking bitch!"
He glared at Campbell. "You running too, you coward?"
"No sir!" She replied, tossing away her enclave officer's cap, and taking up a rifle from a fallen wastelanders. "I'm on your side."
"Jackrum!" Turner said, pausing in his carefully aimed rifle shots. "Commander, we can still take Project Purity! We'll have the fortress."
"Get the army inside it. We'll see if we can't bleed the muties dry before we run out of bullets." They would just have to hope the Brotherhood had completed its mission. Jackrum knew that if Brutus were still in command, all hope was truly lost.
The Wasteland forces had been thrown into a full retreat. Mercs and wasters alike streamed into the concrete maze which surrounded Project Purity. Hunting rifles and assault rifles on the same ramparts which the Chosen One had cleared began to spray bullets at the mutant lines.
Enclave Vertibirds were crossing the river a few blocks north, near the destroyed bridge. Most of their armoured troops were heading in that direction for a pickup. To Jackrum's surprise a few, like Campbell, had chosen to stay and fight.
A few wastelanders, realizing they had been betrayed, fired off volleys at the retreating armoured bullets bounced harmlessly off the enclave armour, but when the troopers returned fire, they cut down close to a dozen enraged wasteland fighters.
Across the battlefield, heavily armoured Overlords had formed a long line, stretching from the northern buildings all the way to the river. They were carrying the rusted husks of ancient cars in front of them, and advancing slowly, like riot police. Behind them, columns of mutants assembled, preparing for an assault on the newly liberated Project Purity.
Behind them, Jackrum caught sight of a distant shape. The dark-skinned, armoured mutant king, carrying a sword made from the blade of a Vertibird. Brutus was alive and well. The Brotherhood had failed.
Glade had not traveled through the sub-basement of Project Purity in over twenty years. His memory of the layout was foggy, and the paths themselves had changed since the Purifier's sabotage. It was more mazelike than before, and devoid of mutants, all of whom had been called up to assist in the battle taking place above.
He led Kodiak through winding passages, and up every flight of stairs he could find. As they passed through a generator room, they heard the enraged roar of the abomination. They exchanged grim looks; neither of them had expected that Kodiak's lucky shot had killed the creature. It was the Lone Wanderer after all. No one could kill the Lone Wanderer. Their only hope was to get far enough away from it that it wouldn't find them.
Their hopes were dashed as they reached the second level. They were walking through a wide room which overlooked the flood pools one level below. It was separated by a chain-link fence, but otherwise quite exposed.
Glade and Kodiak charged up a flight of stairs, past the very medical bay where the Wanderer had been born, and into the overlook. With another roar, the abomination came crashing through the chainlink fence, and slide to a halt in front of them. It was hunched and panting. Aside from a small trickle of blood, there was no sign at all of Kodiak's shot.
The tall, wiry figure glared at them with glowing green eyes, hands opening and closing with each breath. Water from the flood pond dripped down and formed small puddles at its feet.
Glade and Kodiak both opened up with their assault rifles. Yet even as the bullets ate away chunks of flesh, the Wanderer grew them back. It advanced more slowly this time, holding up an arm to shield its face from the bullets.
"Go, boss!" Kodiak shouted, "I'll hold it off!"
"No way!" If Glade he was going to die, he'd do it beside his brother. He dropped his rifle and charged at the creature, drawing a combat knife. It easily batted him aside. It was like being hit in the gut with a steel girder. Glade felt a couple ribs crack, but the impact also sent him flying right out the hole in the chain-link fence. He was airborne for a moment before he landed in the flood pool with a massive splash. The overlook above flashed for a few more seconds, lit by gunfire. Then there was a sharp crack and the noise ceased.
Coughing and groaning, Glade pulled himself out of the pool and onto the bank. He dragged himself to his knees, and was getting to his feet when the Abomination landed beside him, snarling and gnashing its teeth. It grabbed Glade by the throat and slammed him into the nearest wall.
The creature raised his hand for the killing blow, and Glade brought his own arm up protectively in a last, desperate attempt to shield himself. In his inner eye he saw what had happened to his brothers, and he realized that his life was about to end.
…but the blow never came. A long second passed, stretching to an infinity. Then another. The beast's grip on Glade's throat loosened slightly and he managed a shallow breath.
The creature was staring at Glade's forearm, and the red bandana which was wrapped around it. It twitched and snarled, glaring at the cloth, searching it. All the while its breathing was hot, heavy and ragged.
Its grip loosened, and Glade slid to the damp floor, coughing, and holding his arm out like a shield. The creature took a step back and roared at him. But there was a spark of something in its eyes. Sadness? Curiosity? Uncertainty?
Glade fumbled with the knot, and slipped the square off of his forearm. He gripped it tightly in his fist and held it up like a talisman to ward off the beast. "This was yours!" he rasped, his voice ragged. "This was yours!"
The creature let out a feral scream and backed away at few steps.
"This is yours!" Glade proclaimed, gaining strength as he realized the power the object held. The creature's eyes had left it. They were racing back and forth, seeing nothing before it, lost in a sudden flood of memories and emotion the injection was supposed to expunge. "You are the Lone Wanderer from Vault 101. The Ranger of the Wastes! The Vault legend! Not some mutant abomination!"
The creature fell to its knees and howled, grasping at its own head. Glade fought to his feet and took a step forward, waving the bandana. "Remember! You have to remember! You drove the Enclave away, gave the wasteland fresh water! You're our defender! You're our messiah! The wasteland is in trouble and we need you now more than ever! You're the Lone Wanderer and your name is Jason Howlett!"
The beast stared down in horror at its own clawed hands. Then it drove its fist into the concrete leaving a small crater and a web of fissures. The crack of the impact echoed sharply off the walls of the massive cistern.
"Saa…." It hissed. "Saaa….!"
"Jason?" Glade asked quietly.
The beast looked up and met his gaze. There was something human in its eyes, something pleading. "Saah…" It said again.
"Saah? I don't…" Glade shrugged helplessly
"Saah…" it tried again, "Saaahh… Saah… Saaahr!" It growled in frustration and landed another blow on the floor, blasting another shallow crater into the concrete. It looked back up at Glade, and whispered, "Saahraah."
"Sarah…? Sarah's dead."
The monster roared in denial.
"She's dead."
Both fists slammed into the concrete, and the beast went completely still. Glade watched in breathless silence as it slowly looked up, but when he looked into its eyes, he saw the Lone Wanderer staring back, filled with rage. The Wanderer looked up at him and growled one word:
"Bbbrrruutttuuussss…"