The Fallout of War
Chapter 4, Merc
"...two words... Recall Code."
The bombs dropped for the second time in my life.
A nuclear wind blasted me head-on, it's vortex tossed me high, then threw me down. I forgot to breath and didn't care. Like a mirror dropped, my world shattered into a thousand shards and slivers. My body shook, my knees buckled and I slid down upon them. There was no vault, no Kellogg, no time, only a dark cloud of despair rising up, drowning me. Sobs wracked my body, but I was unaware, lost in the waves of thought and emotions that tortured my soul.
All this time I hadn't believed, didn't want to believe. I saw and shared his pain, sorrow, happiness, pride and... love. How could I see him as a machine? And if he was, it didn't matter.
Danse... No. My Danse was gone. Erased, like writing on a chalk board. All that he was wiped away; with no more thought for who he was, all he'd done, the lives he'd touched; than someone wiping dust from a table top. Who could be so cold, so callous, so devoid of a heart?
But the Commonwealth was filled with the callous and heartless. Murder happened everyday and today someone had surly murder Danse. If they had put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger it would amount to the same thing.
The fires of rage flamed to life at the depths of my sorrow, that or it was madness. It's said our baser instincts to survive, procreate, protect our young are simply those derived from the animal in us. Perhaps that was all that was left inside for me as a firestorm of rage engulfed me.
The figure of speech, someone sees red, comes from the literal occurrence when anger is so great, the blood vessels in the eyes burst and that person's vision becomes tinted in red. I know its true for I lifted my bowed head and the room was awash in blood.
Yes, someone had murdered Danse! I must be crying tears of blood.
I lifted my face and met Kellogg's gaze. Shock flashed in his eyes for a second. Perhaps it was just the red of my eyes surprising him or maybe he recognized the look from another lifetime, when a young Conrad had come home to find his wife and daughter slaughtered.
All I knew was he was connected, he was a part of this horror and he was the only one within reach of my insanity. I leaped at him like an animal, a growl or howl springing from my throat. He rocked as I slammed into his legs and stumbled back, went down hitting the floor hard. I was on top of him in an instant, my cuffed hands beating at his chest and head. "You bastards! You murderers! You sons of a bitches! I'll kill you all! There is no place in hell deep or hot enough!"
He finally captured my hands as a glancing blow caught the side of my head that sent me rolling sideways. He was on top of me then, his knee driving into my chest, my hands trapped between the two. Grabbing a fistful of my hair he slammed my head to the ground and held it there.
He wiped at the blood dripping from his nose. I hope I broke it! His other hand withdrew the switchblade from his pocket. I was still fighting, kicking, struggling beneath his weight. "Keep looking over your shoulder Kellogg, cause one day I'll be standing there! You bastard! You molerat dung!"
He held out his arm and flicked his wrist, popping the blade from its sheath. "I think you deserve at least 2 more letters." Suddenly a large armored hand was there blocking his wrist and arm. We both looked up at Danse towering above us.
"I heard screaming and yelling. What the hell is going on?" "Don't stop me Merc. The bitch asked for it." Kellogg spat between gritted teeth. Danse's voice was absolute and commanding, "This is not about what either of us wants Kellogg. I have an assignment to complete and so do you if we want paid. Damaged goods means less pay. Now get up."
I saw the resentment flash in Kellogg's eyes and a tense moment passed, but the switchblade flicked close and returned to his pocket. Kellogg rose and glared at me, "We'll meet again Tanna." His voice held a wealth of promise. He tossed something from his pocket on the desk. "The key to her cuffs. She's all yours." He paused at the door leading to the barracks area before passing through. "If you don't want to kill her yourself before delivery, I'll be surprised Merc."
My rage and temporary insanity had passed. Staring up at Danse... Merc?, seeing his rugged face again, everything had drained from me. The hardness in his eyes soften a little as he looked down at me, though still impersonal as his voice, "Can you get up?" I nodded slowly and attempted to rise. My whole body still trembled with the after math of shock, despair and rage. I stood and wavered; a steel hand slid under my elbow to steady me and guide me to the metal chair.
I watched as he stepped away and proceeded to exit his PA. He wore worn road leathers that were patched here and there. His muscular physic had the seams stretched taunt. He lifted the key from the desk and slipped it into his jacket pocket. From another pocket he removed a small ball of cord, thin, but too tough to break with mere hands. Unwinding it he walked over to me, "Hold out your hands." I complied while searching his face. I couldn't help wondering if anything of Danse was left.
"He called you Merc." "Mm-hm" He tied one end of the cord around the chain of my cuffs. "So you're a Mercenary?" "Mm-hm" He tested his knot then tugging the cord pulled me to my feet. He walked to his PS and tied the other end around one of his steel fists. "I'm Tanna." "Mm-hm"
He turned me around and taking the kerchief that still hung around my neck gagged me again. "You don't have to do that." came out muffled through the gag. "Mm-hm" He climbed into his PA. Tested the cord with a tug; there hung about 3 feet between us, then slung his rifle down. "We're out of here." He moved into the corridor leading to the vault exit, pulling me behind.
Riding up the lift he turned to me, "I wouldn't want to Lady, but we get top side and you rip that gag off and start yelling, you'll force me to put my rifle butt to your head. Got it?" I nodded, knowing he meant it.
It was like returning to the living; fresh air again, a star bright night sky overhead, a breeze against my face, but I hardly noticed. As our heads reached ground level Danse was already searching the hill top to be sure it was clear. The platform settled and grew silent. I gazed down at the glowing lights of Sanctuary.
I should want to escape, want to run. I should want to yell and call out, but I don't. The one person I want to run to, to yell for, is standing here next to me.
There was a sharp tug on my wrists and I turned. "Head due north. Move." He indicated the direction with his rifle barrel. I started walking. We paused as we passed one of the rusted out vehicles and he reached inside it pulling out a bedraggled duffel bag. A rifle strap had been attached to it and he swung it up over his shoulder before we headed north again.
Trudging toward the Commonwealth border I kept glancing back at him as if he might suddenly turn back into the man I love. Power armor gives one an extended stride, but he kept pace with my lesser steps. At one point when I glanced back, I recognized what he was doing. He was stepping where I stepped, his armored boot prints covering any sign of my foot falls. "You're hiding my trail. Danse taught me that; Its a BOS trick." "I'm not teaching you anything." "I meant... another Danse." he nodded slowly, "The guy you thought I was back at the vault?" The man you are. I turned without answering and kept walking.
The numbness that had settled in my brain subdued the pain and pounding of my head and body. I was thirsty, hungry, tired, but numb to it all, however my thoughts would give me no rest.
Did this Danse know he was a Synth? Reprogrammed. Memory wipe? What did that entail? A new program written over top of an old? Were old circuits disconnected, but remained? Didn't a scientist in the Institute say a Synth brain was almost exactly like a human, just a chip added to translate the mechanics? Was it possible some part of Danse was still buried inside this Merc...M7 97? If only I had paid more attention, learned more at the RR and Institute. I knew I was torturing myself. I was grasping at straws.
The tug on my hands jerked me to a stop. "Hold up." Merc commanded. "We've come far enough. You can remove that gag." I gladly yanked it down. I knew this land as well as anyone and recognized that we'd reached the northern border of the Commonwealth.
"Sit." He went down on one knee and studied the way we'd come, checking for any pursuit.
"Antagonizing Kellogg like that was foolish. He's a mean son of a bitch." "I know what he is. He's also a Synth." "How do you know that?" "I killed the real Kellogg." His helmeted head seemed to look her up and down as if reappraising what he saw.
"So, why are you doing this?" I asked. "Doing what?" I lifted my cuffed hands in answer. He turned his gaze back to the trail we'd left before answering. "I'm a Mercenary. Its what Mercs do. Its just a job." "You know people don't kidnap someone for a good reason. You are taking me to my death or worse." I stated accusingly. "Not my business Lady." Damn it Danse, but he's not Danse. It still hurt.
"My name is Tanna. At least you could have the balls to know the people you kill or deliver for slaughter instead of being a coward by keeping it impersonal and just business so you don't have to feel anything!" I could sense his body tense slightly. I made him mad. There was silence for a moment.
"Everyone has blood on their hands in this God forsaken world, even you. You said you killed Kellogg, why?" I hesitated. It was an old wound that had been healing. Must I revisit this? "He killed someone I loved a long time ago and kidnapped a child...my child." He was silent a moment. "How do I know you didn't act first?" My laugh was derisive, "He was just doing his job...just... like... you." His helmeted head jerked to stare at me. "I don't hurt kids." "No? You're a Merc! You kill, steal and loot indiscriminately without asking questions so you don't have to know if you destroyed a life that mattered or a family or left a child alone, unprotected, orphaned."
He rose and took a rigid stance, jerking my leash hard so I'd rise. Yes, you're angry now. I can picture that clenched jaw and your tightened lips inside that helmet. "Time to move." He said gruffly and taking lead, headed west at a brisk pace.
We trekked on sticking to the north border as close as the hills, gullies and rock outcroppings permitted. The light of his PA's helmet guided us as we weaved through the empty landscape. My thoughts continued to torture me with pipe dreams.
Maybe if I could get him to Sanctuary, it would stimulate something in him, bring back a memory? Maybe, someone from the RR could help? I stared at the duffel bag strapped to his back. "You always carry all that weight around with you?" "What?" "The duffel bag." "Haven't decided where I want to store it." "You mean you don't have a home, a place to live." "I just got to the Commonwealth." "Where from?" "It doesn't matter." "Not unless you have something to hide." He gave an exasperated sigh, "The Capitol Wasteland; happy?" "Danse is...my Danse is from there." "Mm-hm."
"I live in that settlement back by the vault. Its called Sanctuary. You know, you'd be welcomed there. Could give up being a Merc, have a home, friends." I almost smacked into him he stopped so quick. "I'm not a dirt farmer Lady." His voice was disgusted, "I never will be. Give me my power armor and a rifle and I'm good to go." Oh God. That sounded just like Danse.
"Sanctuary isn't dirt farmers. We help the people of the Commonwealth. We help protect other settlements and trader's, work with the RR and BOS at times. We clear out camps of mutants, raiders and mercen..." His helmet tilted a little closer, I knew he just arched an eyebrow. "Mm-hm." He turned and continued onward.
I was beginning to dislike his Mm-hm, which meant, I don't care. "Isn't there any thing noble or honorable left in you? Have you no pride or dignity?" He snorted, "I left all that crap behind when I left the BOS." He remembers being in the BOS! I quickened my pace to get abreast with him. "Because you were exiled." He froze in mid-stride. "I was NOT exiled. I resigned and the BOS can suck my di..." "dick?" I finished for him.
Shaking my head up at him, "Lets see Merc... You stop Kellogg from giving me a thrashing, get indignant at being thought to be exiled and stumble over your choice of words. Good Mercenary traits for one with no honor or dignity. How long did you say you've been a mercenary?" A low growl began to rumble in his chest as he stomped off, jerking me after him. A couple of minutes of silent plodding passed before with a trace of sadness I said softly to his armored back, "My Danse was exiled." His stomping eased, but he remained silent.
If I can't convince him to go to Sanctuary; maybe if I escape...he'd follow me there. He seems as determined as Danse to not fail a mission. If I could just get him there, there has to be something that can be done!
We'd been traveling for nearly 3 hrs I figured. Long treks were not usually difficult for me. I was a soldier, a Sentinel of the BOS and marched with the best of them, but everything was catching up to me. The numbness earlier had passed, but now I felt exhaustion settling in and began to stumble. In the distance I could hear the rumblings of a storm approaching, but the jerks on my leash kept me going.
We reached the remains of a road and I stumbled over the crumbling asphalt of its edge going to my knees. "Hey Merc, how about a rest?" I called out between breaths. My captor looked back and halted. "Shit." He spun and took a knee next to me. "Whats wrong?" "Well, other than a fist to the face today, head and body slams, sliced up, no food or water, walking for miles, the throbbing in my temples... and loosing the one you loved most in this world.. I'm fine." "Damn it! Why didn't you say something sooner?"
He glanced up at the sky, now starting to glow with flashes of lightning. "We can't rest here. It looks like a rad storm coming." "There's an abandoned robotics disposal just a few yards down this road. It has a small building we could use." He shook his head, "I've re-conned that location for this assignment. There's a military combat sentry bot there. You don't mess around with those." I placed my hands upon his bent knee for support as I rose shakily to my feet. "That's just ole Blowhard as the locals call him. He's harmless as long as you don't screw with him. Matter of fact, I was the one that activated him long ago."
He straightened and stared down the road contemplating. "You have a PS to wear against this storm, I don't and does it look like I'm in any condition to try something stupid?" He turned back to me and I could sense him arching a dark eyebrow at me. I did what any desperate woman would do. I lifted my hands and placed one upon his steel covered chest, "Please...Merc." The glowing eyes in his helmet glanced down at my hand then back at me.
A loud crack of thunder burst overhead and I shivered as the skies opened up dousing us in cold rain. I was suddenly swept up in armored arms and carried toward the disposal yard. "The epitaphs mumbled inside his helmet weren't quite discernible."
Merc sat me on my feet at the disposal gate and removed his rifle from his shoulder, but ole Blowhard was rolling downhill away from us with his glowing red eye and puffs of smoke. I stepped around Merc and led the way to the bunker styled building a few feet away.
It was just a small one room building, but solid and enough space for a PS. With its steel door closed it muffled the sounds of the roaring storm and ole Blowhard's mechanical humming as he patrolled.
Merc sat down his duffel bag and rifle within easy reach, then exited his PAS as I removed the soaked hood from my head and tried to stretch the cord to reach a first aid box on the wall. He walked over and taking my hands, untied the cord, frowning at the raw skin beneath my cuffs. He pulled the key from his pocket and removed them giving me a look that plainly said, no funny business or else.
"Thank you." I breathed in relief. He pointed at a bare wall, "Sit." I glanced at the first aid box hopefully. "Sit." It was a command this time and I slid down the wall grateful to be off my feet. He opened the first aid box which held a can of purified water and a stempack. Handing the water to me I drank it thirstily while he rummaged in his duffel bag returning with a couple dried out Mutfruit he passed to me.
Waiting til I had finished drinking he held up the stempack, "Its our only one." I nodded eagerly. I grunted as he drove it into my neck. I closed my eyes and the throbbing in my head and body eased to a mild ache as I felt the rush of energy flow through my body. The vision in my one eye cleared as the swelling dissipated to a slight puffiness.
"So that's what you look like?" Merc said as he appraised the remaining damage. I opened my eyes at his teasing tone. Guess I've been forgiven my earlier indiscretions by getting us out of the storm or maybe he was seeking some forgiveness for my abuses of the day. Maybe it was a little of both. I smiled slightly at his jest. Danse rarely jested.
While I chewed on the mutfruit he checked over his power armor and weapon. Danse always kept his armor and weapons in top condition. He returned with a rag and more purified water from his duffel bag taking a seat beside me. "Lets see if we can take care of the remaining damage some now." Wetting the rag, he began cleaning the cut around my eye, washing away dried blood, of which I expected some was Kellogg's. I flinched away, it was still sore and tender. "Come on tough girl, hold still." He began again, I winced. "Talk to me. It'll help distract you." I glanced sideways at him. "About what?" He thought a moment. "Tell me about this doppelganger of mine you keep bringing up." Calm down heart. He'll notice your skipping beats.
"He's all soldier; lives in his PS. His weapon is just an extension of his hand. Battle is what he lives for and his battle cries are inspiring. I could picture Danse in my mind in the heat of battle. Many times he's risked his life to save others... save me. He's commanding, straight forward, to serious sometimes and... a little sad, but others don't see the side of him I do.
I was warming to my subject, forgetting to flinch as he tilted my face toward him to reach the blood encrusted K upon my neck. My eyes roamed his features as he focused on my throat. "What side is that?" He encouraged when I had paused.
"How just the edges of his mouth will turn up in a smile sometimes; that he notices how the night seems to change the Commonwealth, how he speaks to me with an arch of his eyebrow, how his deep voice turns thick and soft, like raw honey, when he whispers to me..." He'd stopped his ministrations and lifting his eyes my gaze caught his. "how one so strong can have such a gentle touch..." I forgot who we were. "...how I melt in the powerful embrace of your arms," His face was inches from mine. "... the way your stern brown eyes soften into smoldering embers..." his breath brushed the corners of my mouth, "...And my lips?" "Set me afire." "And my kiss?" He whispered against my lips. "Intoxicating." I whispered back.
His mouth took mine and I knew joy again. He pressed me back and down. I welcomed his heat and weight. My fingers dug into his thick black hair as he hands roamed over me. His mouth kissed a fiery trail from my lips down to my neck and I whispered his name, "Danse..." He spoke my name against the pulse in my throat. "Tanna." ...and reality returned. My name had been spoken with passion and desire, but empty of love.
I was where I wanted to be, in the arms of the man I love, but he was not here. Silent tears of joy and sorrow flowed down my cheeks. Merc kissed his way back up to my lips, tasting the saltiness of my tears he paused. He looked at me in confusion. "Why the tears Tanna?" I turned my face away. I couldn't explain to him. He sat up, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Damn it. For the love of bullets, you practically begged me to kiss you." I curled away from him in shame, cause he was right. Oh God. I might as well have asked him to make love to me outright.
He rose with what sounded like a snort of disgust, crossed and bent down to rummage in his duffel bag while mumbling curses about women. I can't take any more of this day. I sprang to my feet and hit the door at a run. "Son Of A Bitch!" I heard him growl.