Gate: Thus the Brotherhood of Steel Lyon's Pride Fought in Their Land
Chapter Eleven - Reilly
The fact that the Brotherhood of Steel had given them a mission to go to the Commonwealth was enough to make Reilly question her sanity. The other side of it was learning that she did not like flying, nor did she enjoy landing. A fact made more apparent when she practically kissed the ground when they landed near an old airport. The airport itself was filled with broken out husks of old airliners. She looked at the others, motioned toward the airport itself, and they began to move.
Their objective was to get to the location of Hubris Comics, and they were supposed to find the terminal and retrieve any journal entries and any other documentation from the writer of Grognak the Barbarian. She didn't know why the Brotherhood of Steel wanted the information, but they were paying well enough that it was practically a no brainer. They moved into the airport and she heard the sound of someone walking.
"Tickets," a raspy voice said from ahead of them, "Please present tickets and passports."
They moved and she saw a ghoul dressed in some kind of uniform. She was wearing what had to be a wig, her blue uniform looked to be in decent condition, and she was talking to a couple of other ghouls. They looked to be just milling around, "Look, I need to see your tickets and passports before you can board," she repeated, and Reilly could swear it looked like she huffed, "Honestly, if you're both in a hurry then you should have had this ready already."
Reilly motioned to the others to move quietly and they began to cross the room. The last thing she needed was to get the attention of either ferals or a ghoul that was currently so lost to delusion that she didn't realize what year she was in. It didn't matter the ghoul looked toward her, "Oh, great, military," she said, her raspy voice echoing, "If you're here for the military transport it's going to be late. Everything's gone to hell around here."
Reilly didn't want to point out that everything had gone to hell around here about two hundred years before. She just wanted to move on. So far the other ghouls hadn't noticed them, and she could do with them not doing that. The ghoul that was talking to them moved toward them and she watched as she came closer. The faint smell of rot filled the air as the ghoul made her way over, "Sorry, do you mind if I escort you? I've been stuck at that terminal forever, and Mr. Timmins said that he'd be back in an hour. An hour!" she huffed raspily, "I hate that I slept with that asshole. This was supposed to be an easy job, but I've been stuck talking to passengers that forgot their passports for what seems forever!"
Reilly looked at her, uncertain of what to say before she noticed that the other ghouls were just simply standing there. It began to dawn on her that this ghoul seemed to be the reason they weren't going crazy, "Sure, we could use the escort," she said as the ghoul gave what might have passed for a pleasant smile, "So, we need to head into the city actually. We're on leave, and a friend of ours has asked us to meet him over at Hubris Comics."
The ghoul looked at her, "Oh, so you need to go near the Commons," she replied as she led them toward the entrance of the airport, "I'm afraid that the tram is currently unavailable, but I can try to call a taxi for you."
Reilly held her remark for a moment, "No, that's fine. A walk won't hurt us."
The ghoul nodded, "Okay, well, thanks for letting me walk you over here. I'm Angelia, I forgot to introduce myself, please don't tell Mr. Timmins that I forgot to introduce myself right away," she said as she looked around in what could pass for fear, "He's pretty mean when it comes to things like that."
"What did he do?" Butch asked, "I mean, it's obvious that he's done something, right?"
Angelia looked toward him, "I… Well, I don't want to lose my job. I just got it last month," she said before she breathed out, "See, Mr. Timmins got me the job, but I kinda had to sleep with him to get it. I didn't know that he was married, and I just graduated High School."
Reilly felt her stomach lurch. Angelia had been a child when she started working here, and this Mr. Timmins had duped her into sleeping with him in order to get a crappy job here. It sounded like he was an incredible asshole. She felt bad for the ghoul, for Angelia. She was still stuck in time, before the bombs fell, worrying about repercussions from a man that likely had been dead for two hundred years. In a way she wanted to save her. Bring her with them, and let her have a better life. Hell, she might actually be able to make something of herself at Underworld.
"Angelia," she said as she looked at her, "We'll tell him that you've been nothing but professional."
The ghoul gave her a smile, turned and walked back inside of the airport. Reilly shook her head and began to walk. She felt someone near her, "So, that's fucked up."
She nodded, her red hair lightly bouncing, "Yeah," she admitted as they walked, "It really is."
"Think that this Mr. Timmins is still around?" Butch asked as he walked with her, "I mean, do you think that he's a ghouls somewhere?"
She held her rifle as she walked, "I almost hope so," she said as they began to make their way toward the city, "Because if he is then he needs to be put into his place."
There was no doubt in her mind that if this Mr. Timmins was a ghoul she would gladly give him some radical brain surgery. From their brief conversation with Angelia it was obvious that the man was a sick bastard. Someone like that didn't deserve to have two hundred years of life given to them. It didn't matter if it was as a ghoul.
Exiting the airport Reilly could see the ruined remains of the parking lot. Dozens of old cars sat in the same place they had been for the last two hundred years. Like most people that grew up in the wasteland she had long since learned that what happened then didn't really affect her. It was odd that their newest member, Adam, actually seemed intrigued about the lives of those that lived two hundred years ago.
The talk with Angelia was about the closest that she'd come to caring about something that happened so long ago. If Angelia had been a skeleton laying over the desk she was attending she wasn't sure that she would have even cared. She didn't feel bad about saying that. It was simply the truth. Maybe it was wrong, but she didn't think so. The dead were the dead. Their stories were long since over, and it only mattered to those that were interested in the world that once was.
She was interested in the world that existed. Ensuring that her team was constantly moving forward, and ensuring that everything that they did worked toward making the wasteland a little better. She'd heard a ghoul say that sometimes it was just making things one percent better. It's not much, but that one percent better was still forward movement. It was still getting progress, and that was what was important.
She couldn't disagree with what the ghoul said, and so that became her motto. Make things just one percent better. Make the world a little bit better than what it was the day before. Maybe it was killing a deathclaw that was living near a settlement, or maybe it was dealing with some batshit insane raider that was sitting out on the roads waiting for travelers. Whatever the case might be, she was doing what she could to just improve the wasteland a little bit more than it was the day before.
"Gunners?" a voice asked from off to their side, "Are you guys gunners? If so, man I don't want any trouble."
She studied the person who was standing there with a brahmin. That meant that they were likely a merchant. She shook her head, "No, we're Reilly's Rangers, we're on a job for a client. There won't be problems if you don't start any problems."
The woman studied them for a moment before she nodded, "Good to know," she said before she stepped forward, "Name's Trashcan Carla. I am the local purveyor of junk, the mistress of misshapen cast offs, and the conveyor of crap. If it exists I likely got it."
Reilly looked at her and then nodded, "Sounds good enough," she said as she stepped closer, "So, do you have some 308 ammo?"
The short haired woman stepped over to the brahmin and pulled what looked like a small cigar box off of it. She stepped back over and opened it. About three dozen of the shells laid in the box, "Sure do, I charge two caps per shell, and that's a steal considering what the other merchants charge. I can't give away the sources of where I get them, but I can promise that I'll sell them that cheap pretty much all of the time."
Reilly nodded, "I'll take the lot," she said as she dug out the caps and paid her, "Look, we're heading over to the commons, any suggestions on the best route?"
She saw the woman stare at her for a moment before shaking her head, "Yeah, the best route is to turn around and just leave," she said with a huff, "But if you've got business over there then I know that you won't. So, this info is for free. Don't take any subway stations toward that area. They're lousy with ferals and raiders. Stick to the freedom trail as much as possible. You'll see it if you look at the ground. It's a red brick line that passes by some of the oldest buildings."
She looked at them, "Look, in the middle of the commons is a big fuckin' pound. Stay the hell away from it. There's a behemoth living in there. Don't know how it got there, don't rightly care, but that thing is dangerous. Just get past it, and head straight up the street. You'll see a wrecked armored vehicle. Pretty sure that it's been used as a campsite a few times. That'll take you into the old business district of the commons. Best of luck to you."
She shook her head, took her caps, secured them into a bag, and then began leading her brahmin off around the airport. Reilly watched her and then shook her head. If there was a behemoth living in the middle of the commons then she was going to avoid it as much as possible. They didn't need that kind of problem. Those things were dangerous anyway, and she didn't want to get them into any more danger than they needed to be in.
"So, thinking that we should skirt around this pond?"
She looked at Donovan who asked, "Yeah," she replied, "I think that skirting around the pond is a good idea. I don't want to get into a show down with a behemoth."
She was glad that there wasn't an argument about it, and instead she led them toward the direction of the city itself. She wasn't sure what the oldest buildings were, but she was looking for the red brick that Trashcan Carla had talked about. She figured that when they came across that it would be a matter of following it until they came to the commons themselves. From there they could head to the business part of the commons and likely find Hubris Comics.
It was a business, so it'd be in the business area. At least that was the thought. The began their first steps toward the direction of the city and a stray shot rang out. She looked around for the one that was shooting and saw the flickering of a light above them. Something reflecting off of a lens. Another shot echoed out, and this one was deflected off of Donovan's helmet. She took her rifle, lifted it, and took careful aim. She saw the one that was aiming at them, and growled.
It was a raider, and it looked like they had some poorly constructed pipe sniper rifle. She fired the old rifle she had and watched as the raider fell back out of his perch. There was a distant sound of something splatting on the ground ahead of them, "Okay, keep moving, and keep your eyes out, we've got raiders around us."
Moving forward she kept her eyes on the ground. She would look up to see if there were any raiders hiding, but when she wasn't looking up she would glance back at the ground. She wanted to find the red brick trail, and from there she wanted to find Hubris Comics. She moved slowly toward the city itself, and slowly they began to get near the more paved roads. She saw a small red line, and a small jolt of relief ran through her.
From there they began to follow the line, and she noticed that it seemed to move toward various buildings, stopping in front of them, and then looping back onto the street again. As they walked the sounds of gunfire filled the area. The distant sound of fighting grew in numbers, and she didn't attempt to shy away from following what was their only real lead. Moving the sound of the gunfire got louder, and finally she saw where it had originated from. There in the distance was a group of men carrying strange looking lazer rifles.
They appeared to have to crank them before they fired, and most of them were wearing clothes that looked like they belonged in an ancient history book. She'd seen a couple suits like those once, and that had been when she was at Underworld. The Natural History Museum had a few old relics of the past that remained. One of which was a display about the revolution. Most of the clothes those men that were fighting raiders looked to be dressed similarly.
"We keep following the trail," she said as she followed the red brick line, and it led them closer to the fighting, "Prepare to return fire."
The closer they got the more intense the battle appeared. Within moments a shot kicked up bits of the pavement in front of them and she trained her rifle toward the one firing. It had been a raider, likely someone that was firing wildly, but it didn't matter. She shot, catching him just below the eyes. The powerful rifle took the top of his head, from just above the nose up, completely off. The body of the raider spasmed twice, causing it to shoot its pipe pistol twice before falling.
The others feel in behind her, and together with the ones that had the crank laser rifles they managed to put the raiders down. The ones with the strange laser rifles walked toward them, and one of them gave her a nod, "Thanks for the assistance," he replied as he neared them, "Name's James Wire, First Lieutenant of the CommonWealth Minutemen."
She nodded, "Reilly of Reilly's Rangers," she replied, "So, raiders?"
He nodded, "A growing problem here, and I suppose everywhere," he replied as he looked around, "Unfortunately I'm afraid that it's a problem that will pretty much remain. The wasteland isn't anything else if it isn't cruel. I've seen people turn raider almost overnight. Combination of disease, hunger, and insanity all rolled into one."
She nodded, "Sadly, that's the state of the world," she replied before she looked around, "We need to be moving on."
He gave a nod, "Very well, where are you headed?" he asked, "Maybe I can point you in the right direction?"
She looked at him for a moment, "The commons, specifically Hubris Comics."
He studied her for a moment, "Well, Hubris Comics is in the business area of the commons, but you've got to be careful. There's a behemoth over there, calls itself Swan."
She looked at him for a moment, "Wait, it calls itself Swan?"
He nodded, "Well, that's pretty much the only thing that it can say," he replied as he looked at her, "But regardless, be careful over that way. If you go down about a block crossover, and then head north you'll hit the commons. There's going to be a large wooden sign there, we put it up, and it says, "Beware of Swan."
She nodded, "Thanks," she replied as they began walking toward where he pointed, "Best of luck."
He grinned, "Same to you, maybe we'll see each other again."
She watched as they began to walk off, and she followed his directions. Once they made it to where he said to turn she began moving toward the north. Heading that direction she noticed the number of abandoned buildings were all but abandoned. She could hear the sounds of movement around them, but there was no one attacking. It seemed that it was mostly people that had settled into the buildings and were trying to live without being attacked.
She couldn't fault anyone for trying to get by. For most people it was simply a matter of finding a place to call home, trying either to grow or trade for food and supplies, and just having the strength to carry on another day. Just staying alive often tended to be more than some people could handle. They cleared the mounds of desolate vehicles, the crumbling buildings, and finally they made their way toward what looked like a large piece of plywood that was being held up by a stack of old tires.
"Beware of Swan," she read as they neared it, "Okay, everyone keep a low profile. The last thing we need is to get cornered by this thing."
They crossed into the commons area, and she saw the massive pond. Old boats shaped like swans were strewn about, almost as if something had been tossing them. She noticed that what looked like a collapsed boat was in the middle of the pond, and she decided to not take a pop shot at it. She absolutely didn't want to get whatever was in there upset. Instead they moved toward the APC that Trashcan Carla had talked about.
She moved past it, and moved up until she saw the small sign outside of it.
"Hubris Comics."
She stepped toward the building, "Be ready," she said as they stepped inside, "There's no telling what might be waiting in there."
The door opened, and Reilly listened to the sounds around them. Mostly it was just the sound of the building itself. Almost as if the walls and floor were attempting to adjust themselves. She studied the area around them, and she took a small step forward. She heard a mechanical sound, and looked to see what looked like an old toy monkey.
It had small cymbals in its hands, and its eyes lit. up. She watched it for a moment before it began to clack the cymbals together. When it did there was the stumbling sound of footsteps, and she looked to see a ghoul that shuffled out. The ghoul looked toward them, howled, and ran straight at them. Without hesitation they shot the ghoul, dropping it, and then a moment later the money quieted down.
She could hear more inside of the building, but she heard something else too.
"Hmm, someone there?" the raspy voice asked from above them, "If you are, just say so! I'm trying to work, and I don't need my former associates to go nuts."
She held her breath, "We're looking for the writer of Grognak the barbarian."
There were footsteps and then she saw a ghoul dressed in what looked like an old t-shirt and pair of jeans. The t-shirt itself was sporting Grognak, and the jeans looked as if they'd seen better days, but were certainly in decent condition for being two hundred years old. The ghoul neared them and gave a bow, "Herman Lester, author of the Grognak series, and co-writer for Mantis Man. Trust me, the second one isn't that impressive."
She breathed out, "Mr. Lester, we've been asked to come and find all of the information that we could about how you wrote Grognak," she said as she looked at him, "Journals, unfinished comics, whatever there may be. It would appear that you have fans."
He stood there, "Hmmm," he said after a moment, "Well, I have an unfinished comic that I was working on, but it was sent over to the Washing DC press. They were going to get it out for the November release. Unfortunately we had a slight situation that stopped that from happening."
He laughed, "If it still exists I'm sure that it's in the D.C. Hubris hub," he replied before he looked at her, "That said, I'm willing to come with you and meet these fans. It might be a good way to start getting back to work. Unfortunately, I don't think that I'll be able to do anymore Grognak comics."
She looked at him, "Any reason why?"
He shrugged, "Not sure I can explain it," he replied, "See, Grognak always came to me in dreams. I'd wake up, write down what I saw, and then transfer it over into the comic. I haven't dreamed about Grognak since the bombs fell."
He shrugged, "I don't know why, but I haven't," he said, "However, I've been working on Mantis Man, and since no one else can say anything I've taken over the Silver Shroud, Mistress of Mystery, and the rest of the Unstoppables. I figured if nothing else it would be good to get the comics back out there again."
She studied him, and finally he gave a smile, "One thing that people need is hope," he replied as he looked at her, "Hope is often the only thing that keeps us going. I think that if kids, and even adults, got a chance to look at the comics again that they would find that hope all over again."
He smiled, "If nothing else it would bring them a little escape."
She nodded, "It's a good enough reason," she replied, "So, what do you need to take with you?"
He turned around, "I've got a bag that I've packed with the first drafts of most of the comics. I'm afraid that I couldn't really print anything. Our connection to the DC hub isn't working, so I'll just have to go and set up shop there. Once I get it all working we should see new comics in the month."
He laughed as he began to walk to where he had been, "Give me ten minutes!"
She stood there, and she realized that what she was bringing them back wasn't what they were asking for, but it was possibly better. She was bringing them the person that had actually written Grognak the Barbarian. It had to be better than having journals for it. Plus, she was sure that the Brotherhood of Steel would want them to go and retrieve the unfinished comic from inside of the Hubris Comic hub in the Capital Wasteland.
She wasn't sure why they wanted what they contracted them for, but then again she wasn't going to ask questions. The Brotherhood of Steel seemed to usually be focused around the idea of collecting and keeping information and technology. She stood waiting with the others until he returned, "Okay," he said, "where are we headed?"
She gave him a grin, "The airport, to our ride, and then back to Washington DC."
He looked at her and then at the others, "Wait, we're heading to DC?"
She nodded, "Hmmm," he said before he opened the bag and dug around for a moment, "So, we're heading to the capital, sounds good, but I want to be prepared."
He pulled out a pair of sunglasses and put them on, "Okay, now I'm ready!"
With that he walked toward them, and they began to move with him out of the door. Heading back they retraced their steps, making sure to not disturb anything near the pond in the commons, and started toward the airport. As they traveled she noticed someone wearing old military armor. Whoever it was had an environmental gas mask covering their face, full frontal armor, a duster similar to the ones that the regulators wore, and a military helmet. She watched as the figure seemed to study them. For a moment there was nothing, and then the figure walked toward them.
She could see the way the figure walked that it was on edge. Seemingly ready to fight at moment's notice, "Gunners?"
She shook her head, "Reilly's Rangers," she said as she looked at him, "We're escorting a guest, and who are you?"
The figure looked at her and the breathed out, "Corporal Benjamin Eldridge," the male voice replied, "of the New California Republic."
She looked at him, "I've heard a few merchants that traveled from back west talk about the NCR," she replied, "Never met any of them, and for the longest time I had believed that the NCR was nothing more than merchant tales that was meant to get people to buy more of their wares."
Benjamin Eldridge shook his head, "No," he replied, "We're real. I was with a smaller company, but several of them were taken out. Some kind of Behemoth that lives back at the pond. I managed to escape."
He breathed out, "We're heading toward Washington DC. We understand that it has been mostly cleared of ferals and super mutants. We were hoping to re-establish the capital."
She studied him, "Well, depending on your actions then it could be accepted," but I know that most people hold the Brotherhood of Steel in high regards for protecting the people there. They're the ones that cleared it all."
She saw the change in stance, "Hmmm," came the reply, "Very well, I'll have to attempt to make contact with my superiors, but I'm sure that they would like to know this."
With that he began to walk away. She watched him for a moment before she led their guest toward the airport. Things had certainly gotten far more interesting.
