Lionel couldn't remember the last time he was in this kind of pain. Made so much worse by the rough pace the soldiers set, and the camping on the hard ground under the stars, his entire left shoulder, arm and ribs were on engulfed in agony. The last kick that Mayer had aimed at his head had probably broken his eardrum. He might be deaf on that side for the rest of his life.
However long that is, he thought, shooting a glance at the soldiers. Celia had offered him a shoulder, once she'd stopped freaking out about the jam they were in, but he'd refused. The way the tall bastard was acting, he didn't want to risk another beating. He did want Celia to stop acting like he was falling apart, though. She hadn't left him alone since they started walking, acting a hell of a lot like Lilian and asking him how his arm was every few miles.
He was exhausted by the time the group had reached a familiar spot above I-75. It didn't help that he couldn't sleep easily with the pain, or that he had decided to stay awake while the Mayer fucker was on guard. Celia slept too easily for her own good, sprawled out on the ground beside him. He didn't understand why they were even still alive.
"Let's move, trash," Mayer called out, and jabbed at Lionel with his gatling laser.
Lionel ignored him, and kept his ambling pace. The short soldier jabbed him in the arm with his fancy rifle and probed the bone. Lionel grimaced and muffled a groan.
Celia stopped in her tracks. "You leave him alone!" she said, in a serious voice.
"Or what, you little shit," the short soldier said.
She whipped out the acetylene striker, put it up near the visor of his helmet and struck it a few times. Sparks bounced off the armor. She started to say something, but the short one lifted an arm and backhanded her, knocking her down to the ground. Mayer helped her up, his hands lingering a little too long on her back. She moved back to Lionel's side, her mouth so thin it was turning white.
"Don't agitate," he said. It would only lead to worse things, he thought. Especially the way Mayer was being "friendly". Lionel fixed an eye on the tall man.
"They started it," she said, coldly.
He sighed. All that anger, but no outlet. Was that ever familiar; he could still recall his old man beating the hellion out of him, unsuccessfully.
"What do you suppose," Mayer said, slowly, as they passed a stand of trees, "is going on between these two?"
The short one made a disgusted noise. "Is that all you ever think about, man?"
"You noticed it, too?" Mayer laughed, echoing.
Lionel, if his face still had the necessary elements, would have had an expression of loathing on it. He shot a look at Bradley, wondering if he even listened over his shoulder.
The young one came around and said, "I seriously doubt that's the case, Mayer." Lionel looked at him from the corner of his eye. He hadn't said much since the trip began.
"Why's that, monster bait?" Mayer asked.
The other shrugged his shoulders. "Probably fell off," he said.
"Fuck you, kid," Lionel snapped. Mayer and the short one burst into uproarious laughter. Bradley barked out an order and cut them short.
Celia shot Lionel a curious look and he almost lost his temper with them all. Of all the things she might think about him―he didn't need a mopey teenager bugging him about his personal business. He clenched his right fist, then his left, and hissed in pain.
"Mr. Mayer," Celia said, changing the subject, "what were you saying about the exalted?"
"Christ," the short one said.
"If you stopped taking his name in vain..." Mayer said.
"I never heard anything like it," she said, turning to Mayer. "A lot of things out here are new to me."
Lionel groaned, inwardly.
"Oh?" Mayer said, suggestively. "Like what?" He put a hand on her shoulder and leaned toward her.
"Mayer!" Bradley called. "You want to join Wade on contact point?"
"No, sir!" Mayer said, and backed off. Bradley came to stand by Celia, who looked upset.
Lionel saw the rocks coming up ahead, and stumbled in a small hole, landing on his right side. Celia learned down to help him up, and he said, "Lake."
She frowned, then stood. "Mr. Bradley? We've been walking a long time. Could we have a short break, please?"
Bradley nodded. "Everyone take a breather."
Wade came back from contact point and stood guard near Celia and Lionel. He pushed himself up onto his behind and rotated his right arm, stretching it. Celia consulted her Pip-Boy. "Lake?" she muttered.
"Lake," he said.
"Isn't that―"
"Don't," he stopped her. The lake bed was less than 200 feet from his shack. He knew the risks. Wouldn't it be nice, he thought, if he could get in there and dig out that grenade he'd stashed away?
"Here," she said, passing him a Med-X needle.
"No," he said, pushing away her hand. "No."
"Are you sure?" she asked, and he shook his head at her.
Celia stood and walked to Bradley, showing him her map. "If we take a shortcut," she said, "we can get there a bit faster."
"Who is in charge at this Stockton place?" Bradley asked.
"Over―" she cleared her throat. "Jack Calhoun."
"How many residents?"
Celia counted on her fingers like a small child. "Thirty? Maybe less."
"And," Bradley jabbed a finger at her chest, "are there any defenses we should know about? I can and will shoot any combatants, so you know."
Celia hesitated. Don't do it, Lionel thought. Let it be a surprise.
"There were some robots," she said. "We disabled them." Good girl, he thought.
Bradley looked satisfied. "When we get about half a mile away, I want you," he jabbed her again, "to go and fetch this Jack Calhoun. The ghoul will stay here, with us."
Huh, Lionel thought. Never been used as a bargaining chip before. That's new. But, hell, Celia should know better. If it were reversed―he exhaled. Dammit, he'd still have to come back and get her. Lilian would bite his head off if he'd left her alone with these assholes.
Celia nodded. "Okay," she said.
That night, they camped very near Lionel's shack. He could hear the chittering of the ants again, and kept one eye on the lake bed. The soldiers appeared to be a deterrent for the pests. Lionel was grateful. Didn't want to wake up being eaten alive.
Celia sat down against his back, almost leaning on him. He was trying to sleep on his right side, but it was too uncomfortable. "Lionel," she whispered.
"You talk too much, kid," he grumbled.
"I'm scared," she said. "What do I do?" She pulled her knees up to her chest and laid her forehead on them.
He rolled onto his back, grunting in pain. "Do what they said. Don't worry," he said, wryly, "I'm sure we'll all be dead tomorrow."
She was crying again. "I messed up everything," she moaned.
"If I were you, kid," he muttered, "I'd come back with all them robots, or not come back at all."
"I won't leave you here―" she whispered, sounding horrified at the thought. "They'll kill you!"
"No one lives forever," he said, "even me. At least I'll see it coming."
Celia kept crying for a little while, then laid herself down onto the ground and slept. Lionel stared up at the sky for a long time. Hell, he thought. I'm really bad at trying to be friendly.