Scene 10
The last few days saw Lawman drifting in and out of a dreamless sleep with scarcely any food to satisfy his growing hunger. His mouth was parched as the stifling heat from the boilers made him dizzy and woozy. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten a meal. His face had grown gaunt and pale, with scarcely a drop of sweat dripping from his brow because he couldn't spare the water he'd been starved of. His body drooped from the pipes he was chained to, like a crucified man strung to the cross by those Legion bastards.
Now he opened his eyes blearily, and gazed across at his only companion, the ever silent, seemingly always distrustful, southern guide. Her face too was drawn and pallid, but those eyes still burned with the same secretive determination as before, it seemed.
Lawman's arms ached from being bound to the steel pipe. He had tried loosening them time and time again, yet his bonds only ever grew tighter with each struggle. The girl opposite him didin't try at all. Not once. She simply waited patiently. Deep down Lawman and the guide alike knew they weren't going to be killed just yet. They would be kept alive just. And so the guide did the sensible thing and conserved her strength. Lawman however spent the first day hollering for them to let him go. He bargained as much as he could until his voice ran hoarse and lapsed into silence.
When the boiler seemed to gurgle to a sizzling stop and the boat suddenly lulled into a slow halt, Lawman thought for a few frantic seconds that they were about to sink. It was only when Vyatch strode into the room and made towards him with a waterskin in hand that Lawman realised he was wrong. And as Vyatch pushed the waterskin to his cracked lips and the fresh water began to pour down his parched throat, Lawman felt a new dread rear itself from deep within his gut. Vyatch grunted something as Lawman busily chugged down the water but he didn't listen. He knew intuitively what this meant. They'd roughly approximated the vault's location and now they needed him to work his magic.
Lawman felt Vyatch pull the waterskin back before he could drink it all. Lawman managed to gasp one word: "More…"
"Later," Vyatch growled. He undid the bonds that bound Lawman to the pipe above his head and Lawman felt his arms tumble by his side as though they were the arms of a limp rag doll. He slowly began to massage the feeling back into them, finding it hard to lift the one with the pip boy. It was one of those strange sensations where Lawman tried to move his arm up but instead would send it swaying to the sides, unable to properly coordinate his movement.
Vyatch stuffed Lawman's palm with something. Lawman looked down. It was a roasted squirrel.
"Eat," Vyatch grunted once more.
"Where's the vault at?" Lawman asked as his mouth salivated at the odour of cooked meat.
"Just eat."
Lawman didn't need telling twice. He gobbled the little critter, teeth yanking at every bit of roast meat he could tear off of the bones. Vyatch made his way to the guide.
"Hey," Vyatch spoke to her like a prison guard to a roughed up inmate. "You know why I fed him first?" He motioned to Lawman with his thumb.
There was no answer. Lawman couldn't see her expression. Vyatch's squatting form was in the way. But he imagined she was scowling defiantly.
"I fed him first so that you'd see the food and water isn't poisoned, you see? Now, I know you don't speak our language an' all but I reckon you're more savvy than what you let on, so listen up and pray you get the gist of what I'm sayin' because I'm only gonna say this once. I don't care what you've been through, I don't care what happens to you out there. You've got one chance. You do what Carter and I tell you, and who knows, maybe you'll make it outta here alive. You screw us over in any way, any way at all, and you ain't gonna live. You understand?"
Lawman couldn't see if she responded or not but Vyatch lifted the waterskin to her lips and Lawman heard her gulp it down greedily.
"That's right," Vyatch intoned. "We're gonna get on like peas in a pod, that's right."
He untied her bonds too as Lawman gnawed ravenously at his roasted squirrel. She grasped at the roast meat that was handed to her and devoured it.
Lawman could feel his empty stomach filling with the meat's juices and his head became clearer with every second. His vision stopped blurring as he stumbled unsteadily to his feet.
"Ah ah ah. Not a step further," Katherine's voice called out. Lawman looked to the door and saw her there, leant on the frame with pistol in hand, lazily aimed at Lawman's chest. "You done feeding them, Vyatch?"
"There fed."
"I don't suppose dessert's on the menu…" Lawman interjected drily.
"Ha ha. Good. I was worried you might lose your sense of humour, Lawman. I've missed it so over the past few days." She gave a wry smile. "Come on, Vyatch. Let's get them moving. We've got work to do."
"Hey listen, I've not had a drop of alcohol for days. S'there any chance you could spare a drop." Lawman persisted as Vyatch shoved him to the stairs out of the boiler room.
"Lawman, honey, you know a joke ain't half as funny when it's spoken twice. Get moving!" Came Katherine's sharp reply.
"I'm serious. If you want me performing at my best then you need my hands to stop shaking. I need something to steady my nerves."
Something sharp pierced Lawman's arm. He bolted around so fast he almost surprised himself as he found Vyatch holding the guilty needle in his hand.
"What the fuck!" Lawman yelled. He almost shoved Vyatch away from him only for Vyatch to shove him down to the floor, one arm crossed over his neck so that Lawman struggled to breathe.
"Relax, Lawman." Vyatch turned the syringe around so that the struggling Lawman could see it properly. "Med-X. See?"
Vyatch relinquished his grip and left Lawman spluttering on the floor. He felt so weak. So weak from hunger and thirst that his attempts at struggling out of Vyatch's vice like grip had felt utterly futile. This wasn't good. Despite that he did feel the effects of the Med-x taking affect. His hands stopped their normal tremble but it didn't feel as satisfying as an ice cold whisky sliding down his throat, that was for sure.
"Feelin' better now, Lawman? Get up!" She gave Lawman a sharp kick in the ribs that made Lawman clutch at them in pain. He quickly got to his feet before her boot could connect again.
Lawman, despite the pain shooting from his ribs, looked her directly in the eye. He could already feel the pain subsiding, even though a bruise began to swell there. "I need my gear," he said sternly. His eyes bored into hers. "I need my lock picking gear. And my gun."
Katherine leant into Lawman's austere face and playfully gnashed her teeth. She grinned as Lawman recoiled slightly, but not taking his eyes away from hers. "Oh baby, when you look at me like that I could just gobble you all up, you know that?" She leered with a lust as cute as razor-wire. "The gun is a no go, hon'. But we've kept your lock picking equipment all safe and cosy for you. It's yours just as soon as you need it."
She spun around and her wastelander's ponytail flailed in Lawman's face. "Vyatch," she called back, "get them up on deck. Carter wants to see them as soon as possible."
"I'm already workin' on it," Vyatch called back, and immediately he shoved the guide in front of Lawman, right before Lawman felt a cold circle of metal press into the small of his back. The gun's cold metal barrel pressed uncomfortably against his spine. "Look lively, Prince Charming," Vyatch sneered. "We've got a Vault to clear."
They ambled up the cold, grid-iron stairs out of the boiler room and into the corridor. It wasn't long before they'd each climbed the ladder at the opposite end and scrambled out to face the blisteringly hot and blinding Sun for the first time in days. The heat from the suns fiery hot rays hit Lawman full in the face as he felt himself wade through the sweltering air. Despite him being barely hydrated he felt streams of sweat drip from under his arms and stain his shirt.
His eyes took a few moments to adjust to the blinding light before he saw the silhouette of Carter leaning against the railing of the Mayweather, facing them with folded arms.
"Carter, honey, we're all set to go." Katherine swung her way over to him as Carter fixed Lawman with a cruel and steady gaze. Katherine swung her arms around him and they plunged into a fiery kiss, his stare only being taken off Lawman for the briefest of seconds. He still continued to watch him intensely while their lips locked.
Carter slowly pushed her off him as he swung over the railing of the steamboat and lowered himself into the rowboat, which swayed slightly in the deceptively gentle waves of the Bayou.
Lawman looked around, for the first time since his eyes had adjusted, and found himself surrounded by overhanging branches of warped willows and towering, twisted trees that made the swamp their home. God only knew where they'd actually come from because Lawman couldn't see from here where the open river was. There was only row upon row of trees and the murky water that pooled around them.
Lawman remembered once when he'd scavenged in one of the old world cities of the Midwest, before he met Oswald and was still Sheriff of a small band of survivors. It had been further up the river Mississippi in a place they used to call St. Louis. Lawman remembered what folks used to call the Gateway Arch, and how it loomed over the waters like a portal to heaven. Lawman didn't find heaven that day. He'd gone scavenging with a family, deep within the confines of a riverside mall. He remembered how hollow it felt, how empty and desolate it was, and how dark it had been. He remembered hearing noises somewhere in the darkness when he and the family had already entered so deep into the labyrinth of aisles. He remembered how he'd drawn his gun, told the others to keep quiet in hushed tones that were still too loud in the vast echo chamber they were in, and he remembered how he stalked past the aisles, one by one, passing each with a hawk-like eye scanning for traps, his pulse beating whilst he waited, waited in the darkness, for an ambush that might never come. He remembered the kid, no older than ten, and the pip-boy strapped to the boy's arm and how it glowed so brightly, like a pale green beacon, giving away their position. Lawman remembered how he had wished that pip-boy was on one of his bare arms, so that he could switch the damn thing off before everything went wrong. But he was too late, and everything did go wrong.
Lawman, felt that time creep back up on him now as he stared at his pip-boy, and felt the heavy burden it bore. He felt just the same as he'd felt back in those times. But, instead of looking down one eerie aisle after another he was stood at the precipice, looking down row upon row of foreboding trees that blotted out most of the sky up ahead and left only flickers of sunlight to glitter upon the dark waters. He saw the mist entangle itself between the trees and knot itself within the dense foliage, concealing what lay ahead like the darkness between those aisles. He heard the pip-boy click repeatedly at the surrounding radiation, it's pale glow swallowed by the intense light of the blinding sun, at least until they entered under the trees, when it would once again be a pale green beacon in the encroaching darkness.
Lawman felt sick.
Already the South had proven itself full of hidden dangers. How many more times would they roll the dice? How much more was the heart of darkness hiding?
Katherine pointed the pistol Lawman's way and waved for him to hurry it up. "Get moving, Lawman. We don't want to wait until nightfall."
As Lawman moved over to the side of the ship, he saw Vance walk up to Katherine. He didn't glance once at Lawman. He exchanged a few words with her, seemingly arguing about something. "…What if something should happen to my Mayweather? What then?"
"We need someone to play look out whilst we're in the vault." Lawman heard Katherine answer. "If you can't find a way to park your ship closer to it, then I guess you're shit outta luck."
"Why not someone else? Get someone else to watch for intruders! Me and my Mayweather have fulfilled our end of the deal. I just gotta wait here for you to return, at which point I'm out!"
"The deal's changed, Vance." It was Carter. "Get on board before I shoot your ass." He called up from the rowing boat, and as Lawman lowered himself over the edge of the ship and into the little boat he noticed his colt 45 tucked in one of Carter's holsters. Mother fucker…Lawman thought as he sat himself down. He also noticed a host of other weapons tied around Carter's belt, including a large hunting knife.
"What you think you're looking at?" Carter intoned, meeting Lawman's gaze. Lawman stared back but said nothing.
"I know what you're thinking, Lawman. But the only time you're gonna see this gun out of its holster is within the same breath as one of its bullets caving in your head. We clear?"
"You always have had a persuasive way with words, Carter," Lawman replied drily. "S'posing I need it to defend myself against whatever lurks out there?"
"Then I guess you're as good as fish food, ain't ya."
Vance lowered himself unsteadily into the rowboat, not without a lot of grumbling, Lawman noticed. The old sailor seemed to curse Carter under his breath in a creative number of ways.
Next in the boat was the guide. She sat silently, but Lawman could see that she was as alert and sharp as a coyote hooked on mentats. Lawman found himself admiring her endurance after all she'd been through. The person who followed was Katherine who dropped gracefully between Carter and Lawman, and then lastly, and not so gracefully, Vyatch seated himself at the end overlooking them all.
"No, no. Vyatch get the guide to sit next to Lawman," Carter commanded. "I want to see exactly where your hands are," he said, turning to Lawman. "That's why the two of you are gonna be rowing us there. Vance, which way?"
Lawman's stomach did a turn as Vance pointed directly into the darkness ahead.
"The Mayweather's honing system detected an underground complex that way," he mumbled as his gnarled finger quivered a little. The path ahead was an aisle of trees whose twisted, angular branches bowed over each other to form what to Lawman's mind looked like the open jaws of some beast, the thorns forming rows upon rows of sharp fangs like a shark, all leading down, down and further down into the cavernous inky blackness that lay beyond, and the pearly mist that glided over the waters like a spectre. Then Lawman reminded himself that how he was feeling now was nothing compared to how Vance must be feeling. Vance knew of people who'd disappeared in the Bayou, people who'd been sacrificed to the Bayou in nightmarish ways.
Carter simply leered.
"Alright, Lawman." He cocked his revolver and pointed it directly at Lawman's chest. "Get rowin'."