Chapter 2:

Tenpines

When I came to, my hands were tightly bound in front of me, and the back of my head was pounding. I looked around, and soon realised I was in an open firewood shed, sitting on a pile of logs. The minutemen jacket I'd been wearing was missing, and I was very cold as a result. There was an oil lantern hanging off to my left, and I could see my captor standing over me, steadily aiming my own rifle directly at my face. The sight of the business end of my own rifle had me on edge and thinking rapidly, trying to figure a way out of this. I had my pocket knife in my front pocket, but there was no chance of getting it now. I couldn't see his face clearly, but I could see from how he stood, how he held my rifle, that he was prepared to kill, even if it meant shooting an unarmed teenager with her hands tied.

"Please don't shoot me. I'm no raider." I begged him desperately, and all the training that Lonnie and my mother instilled in me for these sorts of situations just vanished. I didn't want to die.

"Don't fucking lie to me!" He hissed, and held up the Minutemen jacket I'd taken. "You're not a minuteman, where'd you get this from?" He demanded, bringing the barrel of my gun even closer to my face.

"It's mine, I- I-" I began, but he cut me off.

"If you lie to me again, I'll kill you." He said, deadly quiet, placing the barrel against my throat.

My heart was beating out of my chest, and I could feel the tears streaming down my face. I tried to stay calm, but I'd seen what happens when you shoot someone in the neck, they don't die immediately, and blood loss isn't what kills them, it's as the blood seeps into their shattered throat, and they slowly drown in it. You try pressing things against it, bandaging tightly, holding their throat tightly, that one wasn't fun to watch. But once the throat is cut, there's nothing that can help them, and I mean nothing, I've seen it all tried. Blind panic set in as I struggled to come up with a reasonable excuse, trying to remember the name of the old Quincy district captain. Eventually I gave in and told him the truth, more or less.

"I took it from a dead girl, I needed it, I was cold." I blurted out, closing my eyes tightly. I had not the strength, nor the will to look as he took the shot.

"Did you kill her?" He asked quietly, pulling the barrel off my throat. I gasped as he pulled it away, I wasn't aware that I was holding my breath until the barrel was removed. I didn't know what to reply with though, because I had killed her, technically, so I stayed silent. "DID YOU KILL HER?" He roared at me, spittle flying from his mouth.

"She asked me to! She was going to die, there was nothing I could have done!" I shouted in reply. "It wasn't murder, it was mercy." I added quieter, my voice ragged with tears.

I looked at my feet and kept my eyes screwed shut, waiting for the inevitable. I wished I was strong enough then to look him in the face. I sat there, sobbing silently, as I heard him rack the charging handle. I didn't hear the other person make their way around to us.

"Dave?" A questioning female voice asked tentatively. She sounded like she was directly in front of me. I didn't look up, but my heart soared at the sound of her voice. "Dave, what are you doing?" She asked him quietly

"She's a raider." My captor, Dave replied quietly, the hardness in his voice lessening.

"If you're going to kill someone, at least ask their name first, so you know what to put on their grave." I said, trying to sound angry, but it just came across as a pathetic attempt to stay in control of myself.

I knew full well if he killed me then I wouldn't get a grave of any kind. I'd likely just be stripped of all my belongings, rolled into a ditch somewhere and left to rot. That thought had me hyperventilating, as I couldn't help but see myself lying in a ditch, like I'd seen so many others. They doubtlessly could hear the sobbing in my voice. It was at that point the woman saved my life.

"Dave put the gun down. The poor girl is terrified." She said quietly, and I heard her crouching down in front of me.

I looked up slightly, opened my eyes, and I could see she was staring me in the face intently. I held her gaze, silently pleading with her. There was something strange about how she looked at me. I could see she cared. It was an odd expression, one I hadn't seen in a long while, or maybe it was just the poor lighting.

"Pamela, this girl, she was sneaking around with an assault rifle, she would've killed us! She. Is. A. Fucking. Raider." He argued, but I could see him lowering the gun. He didn't want to kill me in front of his wife, I suppose.

She looked back at him. "What sort of raider tries to attack a farm on their own?" Pamela replied, her timid, defusing voice changing to the tone a scolding mother might use on a naughty child.

"She… she was scouting us out!" He argued, although I could see he was holding the rifle passively now.

I was hopeful that he wouldn't kill me now, so I directed my attention to Pamela. "I need to find someone." I said to her, the desperation clear in my voice.

"Who?" Pamela asked me, intrigued.

"A friend of mine disappeared, but he told me where to find him." I replied miserably.

"Oh, you're also chasing a dead man, great." Dave complained.

"Be quiet!" Pam snapped at him. "Where did he say to go then?" She asked me kindly, and helped me to my feet. "Here, come inside, it's freezing out here." She said, and took the oil lantern from the wall.

I looked at her closely in the better light, she had ratty black hair, and a sturdy, weathered face, she looked about fifty or so. I heard something behind me, and looked back to see Dave. He was slightly older, but with a muscular build, and short, greying black hair. He looked like a skilled fighter. I still had my pocket knife, but I wasn't confident I'd be able to escape if necessary. Pam escorted me out of the wood shed, inside the tiny shack and sat me down at a small table in the corner, before sitting down opposite me. Dave closed the door behind him, walked over to me, dragged me to my feet, and frisked me, before taking the knife from my pocket and showed it to his wife as if to say; 'What did I tell you?' Pam rolled her eyes and ignored him. I sat down again. I then noticed he was carrying my bag. He sat down with it in the corner of the room, rifling through its contents, occasionally looking up at me.

"He uh... Bunker Hill. I uh, I have a-" I began, and started trying to reach into my pocket, hands still bound, before remembering that I ate it in a hurry. "I uh, I had a postcard, but I lost it."

She sucked in air through her teeth. "That's a bit of a trek love. You got to head due east and follow the coast south for a few miles. I've never been there myself, but I reckon it's about a day's walk." She said, untying my hands as she talked.

"Good, now get lost." Dave said, and levelled my rifle at me. I was furious, but I didn't blame him. Had I been in his shoes, I'd likely have been rather hostile too.

Luckily, Pamela snapped at him so I didn't have to. "David Tenpine, if you don't stop this behaviour you'll be sleeping outside for a month!" He was silent, Pamela turned back to me. "You're welcome to stay the night and set off in the morning." She said to me kindly. I heard David's muttered cursing in the background.

"Thank you." I replied sincerely, genuinely elated at the offer.

"You don't happen to have another one of those rifles by any chance though honey?" She asked optimistically.

I smiled. "Not quite, but I have a few things you might like."

Pamela and I talked trade for the rest of the night while David stood guard by the window, glancing outside occasionally. Eventually we agreed on a deal. They gave me some food and purified water, and I gave them the .357 revolver, with the holster, and the limited ammo for it. When I asked about why she wanted it she just smiled strangely. As I settled down for the night on the bedroll they'd spread out for me, I noticed David standing by the window, watching the night. I realised then he was on guard. I didn't understand why, considering the likelihood of raiders out here was thin. Suddenly I heard an odd rattling from outside. David jumped back in panic, nearly landing on top of me, as a huge, barbed stinger pounced through the window, supposedly aiming for his head. It missed by inches.

I was up immediately and going for my rifle, when I heard splintering at the door. The thing had moved, and now the stinger was penetrating the weak wood repeatedly, trying to break the door apart. Pamela and David were both up now, David was brandishing his hunting rifle, whilst Pamela had shot at the thing four times with the revolver by the time I'd pulled back the charging handle on my rifle. I was surprised that she'd even picked up the gun, she didn't look much like a fighter.

"Radscorpion!" David yelled. He seemed worried by the fact that I had my rifle back again, despite the looming threat.

"Just one?" I asked hesitantly.

"Fuck if I know." He snapped in reply.

I aimed at the slowly widening hole in the door, waiting until the thing stopped attacking with its stinger. It eventually did, and I saw the face of nightmares staring at me through the hole it had created in the door. A multitude of cruel eyes, a disgusting, foamy mouth, and razor-sharp mandibles. I pulled the trigger, and felt the gun jump violently into my shoulder as I sprayed all twenty rounds at it before the gun clicked uselessly in my hands. When the smoke cleared it was gone, unfortunately so was a lot of the door. I awkwardly dropped the empty magazine and loaded another from my ammo belt, lying on the floor behind me. I then moved slowly towards the doorway, keeping my gun at eye height. I braced my foot and kicked the remainder of the door open. I scanned the terrain until I saw it, blasted two feet back from the door, lying on its back, with its tail lying separately another fifteen feet away. It was very dead, chewed near to pieces by the sheer volume of bullets I'd peppered it with.

I slept badly that night. I couldn't do guard shift two nights in a row, I was practically sleepwalking when I arrived, with adrenaline being the only thing to keep me awake thereafter. We knew the radscorpions might well be back, so David was guarding the doorway with my gun all night long. Despite first impressions, I had to admit he was growing on me.

"Are you sure you're willing to do this?" Pamela asked me for the third time, her voice betraying her worry. She'd admitted that they'd had attacks from them before. I'd tried pressuring her into telling me where the radscorpion nest was so I could destroy it, hopefully stopping any more wandering over to the farm and terrorising them. I was confident I could manage it, I'd heard they were just like radroach nests, but larger, and more dangerous. She'd argued, but eventually David had told me. Apparently, the creatures had taken over their gourd farmland further down the hill. I had a plan to take care of the nest and any stragglers, I just wasn't sure they'd like it.

"I'll handle it." I replied, pulling on my boots.

David handed me back my rifle and sat down at the table, looking very tired. "How then, please do share." He yawned, wiping the sleep from his eyes. I stuffed my pistol into the front of my jeans in a cross-draw position, letting the jacket conceal it.

"Do you have anything… flammable?" I asked him with a smile.

"What?" Pamela exclaimed, horrified.

David on the other hand, got my drift, despite his fatigue. He returned my grin with extra. "Yeah, we got something."

Before long we had whipped up two molotov cocktails, and as an added bonus, David had even procured an old WWII American fragmentation grenade. It had been rotting away in his ammo can for ages, according to Pamela, terrifying her every time she knocked it over. It was a small shack so that happened a lot. I stuck the grenade in my back pocket and began loading ammunition into my spare rifle magazines. David wanted those pests gone, so, despite his reservations about me, he was prepared to let me have as much ammo as I needed to get the job done. He also had ammunition for my pistol, so I could resupply all the magazines for that. I now had 40 or so rounds for the thing, all loaded into three magazines.

"When you're done, I'll have some caps for you." David grunted. I nodded, and shouldered my rifle, leaving my bag, before grabbing both bottles with one hand, and holding my lighter in the other.

"Good luck!" Pamela called after me as I left.

As I trudged down the muddy slope, the deadly bottles clinking carelessly together in my hand, I looked ahead at my target. The nest was well nestled in the corner of the small gourd field, embedded in the ditch at the bottom of a steep slope. The crops here had been left to wither and die without the upkeep they required. I stopped about thirty feet back, watching it from the slope, far above. If I wanted to, I could firebomb it now. It felt odd, I could see several smaller creatures, but the larger beasts were nowhere to be found. I couldn't miss the adult, and I was rather anxious that one might sneak up behind me, so I decided on a different approach. There was a large, sturdy tree growing out of the slope, overhanging the nest not entirely, but it would make bombing it easier. I stored my lighter, and holding one bottle in my teeth, the other in my right hand, I scaled the tree with minimal difficulty. Once I was in place I sat down to watch the nest for a bit. I detested the creatures. Horrible things. I just hoped that the adult would be back soon, I had to get that one. If I was to only kill one, that would have to be it. The newborns would die off on their own.

Finally I did see the adult arrive, scuttling backwards through the field towards the nest, dragging something along with it. As I watched, I realised with a shock that it was alive. I was horrified further when I saw what it was. The deplorable creature had gone out hunting, and dragged a young boy back. The child was unconscious, but I could see that he was alive from the twitches in his arms and the way the creature was dragging him, as if it was careful not to let go. The thing was nearing the nest, and the young were getting restless. As far as I could tell he hadn't been stung, but even so, he looked in a bad way. I looked at the incendiaries in my hand. If I dropped those on the nest after they started feasting, I was sealing the boy's fate, and subjecting him to the worst kind of death, but It'd surely wipe them all out. If I didn't, and tried to shoot them from here, I would give my position away, lose the element of surprise, and have a lot of targets to hit, and one to make sure I didn't hit. I considered all the options, and made a decision.

I drew my lighter, clicked it open, lit both incendiaries, and dropped them both, one by one into the nest. The creature dropped the kid and squealed in pain, as it saw its nest in flames and its kin broiling to death in the fire. I'd made the right move, as now I only had one enemy to fight. It would be enraged however, determined to kill me, to avenge it's offspring. It was likely a female. I suspected it's mate was the one I killed last night. It looked back at the kid, as if contemplating what to do with him next, I couldn't let anything happen to the kid, so I whistled. The thing looked up at me, staring at me with all six sets of eyes glistening with fury. It flicked its stinger slightly, and slowly clicked its pincers. I slowly unslung my rifle and flicked the safety off. I had the thirty round magazine loaded, with the three extra twenty round magazines in my belt. I was about to shoot the thing when it began darting up the slope, making right for my tree. I was only about three feet from the slope, so the thing could hit me from the slope easily, but I was fifteen feet from the ground if I were to jump. I didn't want to jump. I emptied twelve rounds at it before my mind was made up for me.

The branch I was on cracked as I shifted my weight, and I lurched forward, landing painfully on my ass, dropping my rifle, and rolling down the hill, before landing in a heap several feet away from the torched nest. My body hurt all over, and I just wanted to lie there and rest, but I knew that I'd be dead within moments if I didn't act. I scrambled to my feet, lifted my jacket and retrieved my handgun. As the thing zipped back down the slope towards me I took aim. It was just about upon me when I fired. It staggered back slightly, definitely wounded. I fired again, hitting it again. It kept coming at me, but it was slower now. I backed up fast, putting round after round into its hideous face and shell until finally it staggered to a halt mere inches from me, dragging its tail behind it. I kicked it, making sure it was dead, before putting one more shot into its face for good measure.

Confident that it was dead, I ran to the kid. Upon further inspection I realised he was older than I thought, probably about 15 or so. He was breathing, I could tell that much. I knew I had to get him back up the slope to the farm, otherwise he'd die. I saw my rifle lying at the side of the nest, just out of the burned area. I clambered over to it and was about to retrieve it, when a baby radscorpion, about the size of my hand, crawled out from underneath it. I jerked my hand back and quickly blew the thing apart with my pistol, finishing off the magazine. I brushed it aside and picked up my rifle, before running back to the kid. He was still breathing, but I noticed quickly how bad he was. He'd been stung after all, in the leg far down, by his right shin through his sock. There would be no helping him here, I needed to get him back to Pam. I picked him up, and with great difficulty, slung him over my shoulder, holding him tightly. I stuck my empty pistol in the front of my pants, and held my rifle by my side, before setting off back up the steep slope.

It took a long time, and it nearly finished me off, but eventually I made it back to the farm. As I got closer, and the farmhouse was within view, I heard David calling to his wife, before coming out of the house to help me.

"Christ where'd you find this?" He exclaimed as he helped me bring the kid into the shack.

"Is he stung?" Pamela demanded as she rummaged through a large leather doctor's bag at the other end of the room.

I nodded, before remembering she couldn't see me from where she was. "Yes uh, lower left, no, right shin." I called.

I heard her curse quietly, and drag the entire bag over to the table David and I had laid the kid out on. I stepped back as she took prime place at the table, inspecting the leg. She laid a white cloth underneath the leg and began rummaging through the bag before producing a small rusted lockbox. She unlocked it with a paperclip and rifled through its contents, before tipping it out onto the table.

"Shit!"

"What?" I exclaimed, unsure of what she was looking for.

"Get me some bloodleaf. Now!" She commanded.

I nodded, grabbed my rifle and ran back outside. My body was still aching from the fall and from carrying the kid, so I was limping along as fast as I could go without exerting myself beyond repair. I had to stop myself from tripping as I hastened to go faster. I didn't know how long I had, but I knew that a radscorpion sting could kill a man unchecked. A kid, however... I wasn't optimistic. I knew where I'd find bloodleaf. I remember seeing some before I took out the nest, at a small spring, near the gourd patch. I started running that way, and made my way down the slope. I glanced at the nest as I ran past. It was still smouldering, with no signs of life anywhere within its bounds. Good. I quickly found the bloodleaf patch I saw earlier, it was at the waterside of a small pond. I dropped my rifle by my side and knelt to harvest it. I quickly cut what I needed, picked up my weapon, and turned around to run up the slope. It was then I saw something that made my blood run cold.

The body of the dreaded radscorpion was missing. I then heard a faint tinkle of water from behind me, where I'd just harvested the bloodleaf. I turned around, horrified. It was there. Its large, curved tail arched over its back, towering over me. I looked at its hideously deformed face. I'd shot eleven rounds into it already, surely destroying anything and everything it needed to function. I could see where the bullets had hit, and penetrated, but they just looked like old scars. There was an odd, red glow to the face, and around the entire thing's crimson body. It was almost as if it was pulsating with energy. I didn't know what it was, but I knew it had made this thing strong. Perhaps it had mutated in some way. I'd heard stories of this before. When something had been wounded, occasionally it would get back up after an hour or so, due to its body releasing radioactive decomposition chemicals that rapidly heal flesh, or something like that. I thought it was bull, but apparently not. It's one of the many terrifying things nuclear fallout does to an ecosystem. It twitched with anticipation. I knew the minute I tried to run it would be on top of me. It was fight or flight, and I was fucked either way.

We stood there for a good few minutes simply staring at each other, daring the other to make a move. It was deathly silent, yet I swear I could hear the thing twitching. I forced myself to look at its hideously malformed face. I locked eyes with the thing, and I could see the intelligence there. It was then that I realised with a shock, it was waiting for me to make the first move. It knew my objective. It knew my goals. And I knew If I didn't kill it, it would kill me, and proceed to massacre everyone inside the farmhouse. The thing was bent on revenge. When I looked at its body in closer detail, I noticed it had a noticeable red tint along its carapace. It was a Deathskull, the most ruthlessly determined of all the species of radscorpion. I couldn't run from this thing. She would hunt me across a thousand miles to get her revenge.

"You don't look happy." I said aloud, without really thinking. I was terrified, rooted to the spot, but the words just came to me spontaneously. If I made it out of this, I'd be kicking myself for that kind of idiocy later. The thing just twitched in reply though, its wicked mandibles slowly slicing the air in front of it. It was then that I heard a rustling from the slope, which then abruptly stopped.

"Kay! Come on, we need that bloodleaf." I heard David saying off to my right. I didn't dare look away from the thing, but I noticed it was hidden from the slope behind a tree, so David probably couldn't see it. It was staring back at me, as if inviting me to make the first move.

"David... Back away, slowly." I said, trying to keep my voice level.

"Kay, that kid'll-" He began but I cut him off.

"You need to get out of here." I said, my voice wavering slightly. The beast twitched, causing a slight rippling in the water. I don't know what David saw, but he knew not to come any closer.

"I'm not leaving..." He replied defiantly.

I sighed, careful to keep my eyes on the creature. "Then I guess it's a closed casket funeral for the both of us." I replied, keeping my voice measured. Without further warning, as fast as lightning, I raised my rifle and held the trigger down. I emptied the remainder of my thirty-round magazine at the thing in the space of three seconds. Unfortunately, the thing was upon me in two. It pinned me down, and lowered its face towards mine, determined to slice me apart. It was all I could do to keep it off my face, using my gun as a shield. I tried to get up but It was simply too strong. I was also lying on something round and hard, like a large acorn. Then I remembered the grenade. If I could only reach it... Suddenly I heard a snap of gunfire to my right. David was shooting the thing. It was momentarily distracted, and looked over to David. I had one chance. I reached into my pocket with my right hand and pulled out the grenade. I hooked the pin on my charging handle, pulled it clean out, and when the bloodthirsty thing turned back to me, I was ready. I used all my remaining strength to pry open it's disgusting foamy mouth, getting my hands viciously sliced by its razor sharp mandibles in the process, and simply dropped the grenade into its mouth.

It backed up fast, as if realising what I'd done. I rapidly backed away on all fours. It was trying to spit the thing out, but I seemed to have jammed it in the thing's mouth somehow. I backed up even further as the thing scuttled around, trying to rid itself of the device. Suddenly it stopped, having managed to spit something out, the grenade's spoon. It couldn't have recognised it, I knew that, but it seemed to realise what was going to happen next, and realising its imminent fate, it ran at me with all it had. It was around ten feet from me when it erupted. It was a glorious sight. The loathsome creature's head and torso exploded in a shower of fleshy bits, propelling the tail and legs several feet away. As I waited, David came over to me.

"Goddamn, what a sight!" He exclaimed in triumph, before noticing the blood pouring from my hands and arms. "Jesus, are you alright? Can you walk?" He asked with genuine concern, which was an achievement, considering he wanted to kill me less than twelve hours ago.

I nodded, and took his rifle from him, trying to use it as a crutch, holding the buttstock loosely in one hand, before dropping it from sheer exhaustion. My hands simply would not bear any weight, yet there was no pain as of yet. I looked down at his rifle, the rough wood of the buttstock was utterly coated in blood, my blood. He inspected the cuts on my hands and wrists in further detail.

"Let's get you back." He said quietly. He picked up both guns and helped me limp back to the farmhouse.

"What happened to you?" Pamela exclaimed as I limped through the door, holding my jacket around my tattered hands, blood seeping through the thin material.

"I'll be fine, help the kid." I snapped.

She bit her lip, nodded, and turned her attention back to the unconscious child on the table. David sat me down on a seat before running to the table with the bloodleaf. I watched as she sprang into action, grinding the herb up into a fine brown powder, before adding water and a mix of other ingredients, including an odd, glowing liquid. As I watched her work I wasn't aware of David lightly dabbing my tattered hands with a wet cloth, likely coated in antiseptic. He cleaned both my hands, before tightly wrapping them up in bandages and laying me down on the ruined sofa in the corner of the room.

I continued watching Pamela as she worked for nearly an hour, as the weakness slowly left me and the pain finally manifested itself, making any kind of rest impossible. My hands felt like fire, worse than anything else I'd ever experienced. To keep myself entertained, and to distract myself from the imminent possibility that I might lose my hands, I took to watching Pamela as she worked the entire time. I passed out occasionally, only to be reawakened by the slightest sounds and movements she made as she set about saving the boy's life. God knows how she became a farmer, she was a born life-saver. She had distilled a disgusting reddish-brown liquid with the powder, which she then diluted with what looked like saline solution into an empty radaway bag before hooking it up to the kid as a IV. It was a popular homemade painkiller and anti-venom, I remember seeing it used at the apothecary in Quincy a few years back. A stimpak would work better.

"I've got stimpaks in my pack." I said to her drowsily, as she finished setting up the drip.

"Can't, too much morphine will kill him in the state he's in right now. Maybe when he wakes up." She replied quietly.

I watched as she applied some bloodleaf powder to his wound directly, dabbed some antiseptic and alcohol on it, and wrapped it up. She then came over to me and inspected my wounds.

"How on earth did you manage this?" She mused quietly.

I couldn't help but laugh slightly. "You should see the other guy." I replied, gritting my teeth as she unwrapped her husband's rudimentary bandage work.

"Yeah but, are these, you know, these cuts..." She trailed off.

"The uh, mouthparts, yeah. You know, sharp slicey things on the face." I replied drowsily.

"You'll be lucky not to lose your hand." She snapped, and started dabbing and wiping the cuts with alcohol, before testing the skin to see how deep the cuts were. It stung like hell, so probably quite deep.

"Better than losing my face." I muttered under my breath.

She didn't reply, yet I'm damn sure she heard me. I grit my teeth as she put in countless stitches, before tightly wrapping up my hands with fresh bandages. She finished up and gave me a pat on the back, smiling down at me. I looked up and saw David standing by the window holding my rifle, looking at something down the path. I saw the look on his face, he didn't look happy, something outside had him worried. I got up, ignoring Pamela's commands to sit back down, and limped over to join him. I saw what he saw.