Gate: Thus the Brotherhood of Steel Lyon's Pride Fought in Their Land
Chapter Twenty - Five - Paulson
"Boy, know that governments rise and fall, people come and go, but land lasts. If'n ya and yer family got land then ya got somethin' that lasts," the memory of his father echoed in his head, "Land will outlast ya, and it will outlast yer children, and their children. Keep yer land, fight fer it, and never let it go."
Of course his land was long gone. He wasn't sure what was left from before. He'd moved west, staked a bunch of land in that land grab that happened in Indian territory, and he'd made something of a large ranch for him and his wife. His son was a youngin when they settled out there, but he was prepared to show him what it meant to be a rancher. He'd made a deal with another rancher, down further south, named Bonnie MacFarlane. She'd stayed with her father, and while he owned the ranch she ran it.
She'd agreed to sell him some cattle to get started, and from there he'd grown his herd. All of it was gone. He looked at the sleeping girl in the room. Laura was gone, four hundred years gone, and he still hoped that she didn't mind that he finally moved on. Part of him wondered if it was wrong that he'd found a girl that had rabbit ears. Did that mean that he was one of those old perverts folks made jokes about? Those farmers and cattle drivers that had gone so long without seeing a woman that a damned jane donkey looked good?
He hoped that wasn't the case. It wasn't like he didn't have offers from the other Regulators, but none of them really wanted to settle down. It didn't feel right to just meet someone, do your business, and then leave. He wasn't raised like that, and he hoped that his boy grew up to be like that. He looked at the sleeping form, and considered if he was going to touch her or not. Instead he simply leaned back. Memories of his old life came to him, and he leaned against the wall. Slowly he let his thoughts guide him.
Indian Territory - Panhandle 1891
The sound of the wind picked up outside as dusk settled. The cattle had been moved, and honestly it hadn't been a day too late. A storm was brewing and Paulson found himself tired. The day had been hard. It wasn't the first time he'd driven cattle, but it was the first time that he'd done it for himself. The fact that his brother-in-law had offered to help made things easier, and of course there was Bonnie MacFarlane's ranch hands that had been paid to assist.
All in all he'd came out ahead. There were fifty good head of cattle, a good bull, a bunch of heifers, and a few pregnant older cows to finish it off. He nodded at the work done, stretched, and felt the stiffness in his back.
"Ya did good," the voice of his brother-in-law said from behind him, "Gotta admit, didn't think that ya had it in ya."
He smiled, "Still surprised that I 'mounted to anything huh?"
There was a slight pause, "T'ain't like that, and ya know it," his brother-in-law said, "well maybe it t'was like that, but t'ain't no more."
He stepped out on the simple porch, "Ya built this house, and it's a good piece of work, and then ya managed ta get a good herd to start with," he admitted, "In truth, yer doin' better than Laura and my pa did. Ya got a bunch of land, cattle, and a good chance ta make somethin' here. Kinda jealous ta be honest."
Paulson gave a short laugh, "no reason ta be," he said as he looked out over the dimming light, "Ya got a place out here too. Just 'bout a day and half ride. Good ta have ya as a neighbor."
He nodded, and stretched, "So, what's yer plan?" he asked, "I mean, what ya got planned after all this?"
He shrugged as he watched the dimming lights, "Want ta make this a good ranch," he admitted, "I want ta have a place our boy can be proud of. Maybe see a few generations of us out here."
At that point something lit up in the sky. A bright light that seemed to hover over them. Paulson watched it as it seemed to sit in the sky for a few moments, "What in tarnation is that?"
He moved out, his eyes staying on the strange lights as they seemed to hover, "What in tarnation is that?!"
"I don't know, but I don't think that it's a good idea ta be out there!" his brother-in-law shouted, "better get back inside!"
He watched as strange blue light surrounded him, and he looked toward his home as it began to move, no, it wasn't it moving he was! He was being lifted into the air. His eyes widened, and he grabbed his iron. "What in tarnation!"
The Capital Wasteland 2279
That kid that helped them escape hadn't been lying. The world that existed down here was dangerous, and it was every bit as dangerous as the world he'd come from. It even had bandits that'd try to ramshack a house for no other reason than to just take what they wanted. If people happened to be there then they'd deal with them. Course, the raiders were another thing entirely. There weren't a people, not even the natives, that had done the kind of sick things they'd done.
They were a disease, and thanks to Sonora Cruz he'd learned that there was people willing to deal with them. Joining the Regulators was a step in the right direction. The fact that Ms. Cruz offered to share a bed with him wasn't lost on him, but it didn't feel right. She explained that if they did it would just be knockin' boots. That it wouldn't be anything deeper than that. He politely declined. He knew that it hurt her pride, he could see it, but she took it in stride. She understood that he wasn't the kind to just knock boots and then leave.
He wanted something that she couldn't give. Still, it didn't stop him from going out and bringing the law with him. He looked at the local group he'd been chasing. Group of raiders that'd somehow escaped the Brotherhood of Steel, and then managed to get further along by picking on smaller settlements. That last one, that'd been the worst. He'd came after they'd hung the husband, raped his wife and daughter, and then forced the man's son to choose which of them died last.
It'd been a sick game that he was glad to have stopped. He'd managed to disrupt it, causing them to leave out, swearing revenge. Honestly, he didn't care. The group of them were worthless. They weren't even worth considering people. They weren't even savages. At least the savages were people enough to make things quick. They didn't purposefully make others suffer unless there was a reason behind it.
He moved toward the most recent camp they were using. It was an old house, burned out mostly, the kind of thing that had been more or less left to time. He could see from the way it sat that maybe once it'd been something nicer. The kind of house that someone that had far too much money, and not enough sense, would live in. It almost reminded him of an old plantation house he'd seen down in Texas. Still, the group was in there, and he had brought them gifts of lead.
"See them?" a voice asked, "this the right place?"
He looked toward the woman that had traveled with him, "Yeah, they're in there," he replied, "Saw the first three of 'em, and I'm a bettin' that the rest are further in. Likely dug themselves in nice and tight."
She looked toward him, "So, how you want to play it?"
Paulson considered it for a moment. Naturally sneaking up was the best option. If they could get close without being noticed it would be a matter of getting into the house, and then taking care of those that were waiting inside. What they'd done more than earned them a one way ticket to meet their maker. That was something he was considered odd for. He still believed in God, and of course he believed in eternal damnation as well.
Those monsters that did what they did to that poor family, and to countless others, they had an eternity of hellfire and torture waiting for them. He'd be damned if he was going to keep them from it for another minute! "We sneak down," he said, "Taking to the best cover we've got access to, and then we make our way toward the back. From there we start taking them out."
"What if one of them has some larger ordinance?"
He shook his head, "Up close they can't use it, not without taking themselves or their crew out," he replied, "Not saying that I think they would mind taking their own crew out, but I got a feeling that they're pretty partial to breathing. They fire too close to themselves and it's a damn good chance that they're gonna stop breathing all together."
She nodded, "Good point," she replied, "And if they happen to take a few of their friends out all the better."
The two of them moved through the shadows. He kept low, staying near the burned out horseless carriages that dotted the area. There were partial walls of other places that stood, and they took cover behind that while moving. So far they hadn't been noticed, and he wondered just how relaxed these raiders were in their home. Were they so convinced that no one would come for them that they had long since decided that it would be fine to just sit and wait? It was a kind of arrogance that was hard to ignore. He almost felt bad for them. Almost being the important word there. Still, they were so unaware of their surroundings, so full of themselves that they hadn't really even taken any measures to protect themselves.
"Wait," she whispered from behind him, "There's mines all over out here."
She stepped past him, "Looks like they're the basic pressure sensitive kind. This should be simple enough," she stated as she disarmed the first one, "Might as well take them with us. Never know when we can use these things."
He watched as she slipped the disarmed mines into a bag, and shook his head. The idea of carrying explosives around didn't sit well with him. It was like carrying old dynamite that was sweating. He'd heard stories how miners would be carrying a box of dynamite that'd been in a hot shed, it'd shift around, and then suddenly the miner and the box would be gone. Blown to pieces, and no one knew exactly what happened.
If she wanted to carry them, she could, but he wasn't going to want to carrying the things himself. As they drew closer, after gathering a few mines, she put the bag of them against the wall. He watched as she looked at the bag, and then looked inside. A devilish look seemed to cross her face, and she pulled a mine out, rearmed it, and slipped it back into the bag before tossing it inside.
"What's that?" a voice said, "Hey, go check that out!"
"Yeah, yeah," another voice said, "I'm going, but I swear if it's another rad roach I'm shooting you in the ass!"
"Sure you are!" the voice called down to him, "And when you miss I'm gonna cut your head off and then fuck your old lady!"
Paulson growled at their behavior. The threats they threw around, the way they acted, all of it pointed to people so lost and vile that they simply didn't deserve to live. Still, the one got down closer, "Looks like a bag!"
"Open it up!" another shouted, "Maybe some idiot scaver just threw it in her!"
There was a moment of silence, "Yeah, I'm not opening it up!"
More footsteps ran down to where the voice was, "Stop being a fucking pussy and open the fucking bag!"
"No!" he shouted, "Fuck you! I'm not opening it! That's the stupid ghost story bullshit where some asshole dies because he's too fuckin' dumb to think for himself, you open the damned thing!"
The three voices argued for half a minute before another set of footsteps came down, "Oh you're all a bunch of pussies," a woman's voice said, "And I should know, I have one!"
She laughed, "Step back and I'll open the fuckin' bag. By the way, if it's anything good it's all mine, and you three can go fuck yourselves."
More steps came down, "naw I wanna open it!" called another voice, "I call dibs!"
"No you fuckin' don't!" she said, "I swear, if any of you worthless pieces of shit step closer to this fuckin' bag I'm gonna put on in your head!"
Paulson moved slightly away from the wall, and a moment later an exceptionally loud boom radiated the area. The two of them moved, and looked in to see several bodies strewn out across the ground. What ones weren't blown apart weren't getting back up anytime soon. Paulson saw one, a kid that couldn't have been over fifteen, trying to lift a pistol. There was a large gash where his right eye used to be. He could see some of his skull, and the kid laughed.
"That's funny," the kid said, "Good prank. Got all of us man, got us all good, really good prank."
He coughed and then went slack. Paulson looked around and saw one other one moving. He moved toward the motion and saw another woman. This one was different. She wasn't one of them, that much was sure. She was tied up like a calf that'd been wrangled. Her ass was in the air, and she was nude as the day she was born. He cut the ropes that had her tied down, and she cried as she rolled over and hugged herself.
"Please, please don't hurt me," she begged, "Please, I…I just wanna go home!"
He knelt down near her, "Miss," he said, his voice as soothing as he could make it, "We ain't gonna hurt ya. Ya got my word on that. We'll get ya home, but ya gotta tell us where home is."
She barely moved, her eyes looked frantic, and he could see that she was on the verge of breaking down even further. That trick with the explosives had done the job for them, but it was too fast in his opinion. They needed to have suffered for what they'd done, and his only hope was that old Scratch was giving them a proper introduction to their eternal suffering. Then again, after the world got blown up there was a chance that old Scratch was pretty busy. Lot's of folks likely made it there, and he was sure that he had his hands full with them.
She swallowed, but she refused to move from the fetal position she was in, "I…I lived in a place called Arefu," she said, her voice sounding small and delicate, "My name is Karen Schenzy. Please, please I just wanna go home, can I please go home?"
He shushed her, and he watched as the woman that was with him walked over. Her jovial attitude stopped as she saw her, "Shit," she said as she looked at the girl, "Ms, we're here to help."
Karen Schenzy looked toward her, and Paulson could see that they'd taken time to hurt her. Burn marks ran down the left side of her face. Places where cigars and had been lit and then extinguished on her were present. Small scars from where they'd nicked her with blades were present, and he felt himself wanting to feel sick. It was wrong, exceptionally wrong, that something so vile had been allowed to happen to her.
"I wanna go home," she pleaded, "Please, I just wanna go home."
"She said she lived out in a place called Arefu," Paulson said as he looked at her, "Don't know how she got mixed up with them out here, but you got a clue where it is?"
The woman nodded, "Yeah," she admitted, "They've got a deal with a local group that helps to protect the town. Bunch of self proclaimed vampires, but their good to their word and have kept watch over them. If she's out here then either she left, or something big happened at Areful."
He looked toward her, "how far is it from here?"
She shrugged and looked toward the northwest, "Maybe half a day's journey from here," she replied, "Which, if this group of raiders was camping out here, that makes me think that something did happen over there. I don't know if taking her back would be the best thing for her. I know that there's a couple of places where she might get some help. One of them is Megaton."
He looked at her and nodded, "What about Greyditch?" he asked, "I heard that they started fixing it up, making it livable, and a few settlers were starting to set up there."
She shrugged, "Not sure," she replied, "They're good enough folks, but there ain't a doctor there. Megaton has a doc, although he ain't one of those head peepers. Another option would be seeing if the Brotherhood of Steel could help her. They've been reaching out, and they might have someone that knows more about this stuff. Regardless, we can't leave her here."
He nodded, "I agree," he said as he looked at her, "It'd be best if we go ahead and take her with us. We could head toward Arefu, see if there's anyone there, what happened if there isn't, and we could camp there for the night if needed. After that we can head toward Megaton. Better than nothing. The kid told me there's something called a Vault that's open over there. Maybe they can help her."
His partner shrugged, "Maybe," she replied, "regardless, let's see if she can move on her own."
It was slow going, but eventually they were able to coax Karen up from her fetal position. From there they began to move with her. Paulson had taken a pair of shoes from one of the more intact raiders and put it on Karen's feet. The raider armor and clothing was so covered with blood and gore that putting it on her seemed counter productive. Instead he had put his own Regulator duster on her.
The heavy leather coat was murder in the heat, but there was absolutely no lie that it offered protection. It was thick enough that most normal vermints out in the wasteland didn't get through it on the first attack. It was actually good enough to stop molerats from biting through it. All in all the duster had proven itself a wonderful addition to the clothes he wore, and right now it was acting as a way for Karen Schenzy to hang onto what little bit of her dignity she had left. Slowly, they took her in the direction of where Arefu was supposed to be, and what he saw made them both pause.
The village had been built on a piece of road that seemed to lift up from the ground. That blacktop stuff was kind of like stone, and so it was solid enough. Building on it seemed like a decent idea, and the cement sides offered a little protection. Honestly, it wasn't the worst place to build a small settlement. The problem was that it was also pretty far removed from everywhere else. What they saw when they got close was burned out buildings. What homes had been there were gone.
Bloated corpses of brahman laid out in what had been a pin. The charred remains of a larger house was gone, and he could see that Arefu was gone. Karen Schenzy began to sob uncontrollably, and she fell to her knees. He wasn't sure what they could do before he saw someone moving around.
"Hey!" he shouted, and the figure didn't run away, or move like they were going attack. Instead it was a young man wearing a black trench coat. He had what looked like a homemade sword in his hand, and seemed to nod as he moved toward them, "What happened here?"
The man studied them, "Foul raiders attacked," he said, his voice carrying weight behind it, "One of my coven, Allen, stood guard over the town of Arefu. He defended the people here with his life, and the rest of my coven helped them to escape. We led them to our underground home, and there they reside."
He breathed out, "So they're safe?"
The younger man shrugged, "As safe as one can be in this world," he replied, "We hold to our treaty with them. We provide them the protection they desire, and they provide us with our diet. It is a transaction which preserves both of our kind."
Paulson looked at him for a moment and then shook his head, "She was one of them," he said as he motioned toward Karen Schenzy, "I guess the raiders caught her."
The man nodded, "And she is welcomed with us," he replied, "I will take her to our home, give her a place to live, to hopefully heal."
Paulson studied him for a moment, "Well, there is a place she might get some help that she needs," he replied, "Over near Megaton. I can't promise that she will, but it couldn't hurt."
The man studied him for a moment, "Well, I will not begrudge you taking her, if she so wishes," he said, "Karen, I am Vance. I lead the family, do you wish to come with me?"
She looked at him, and then at Paulson. He could see the fear in her eyes, "I wanna be safe, I wanna go home."
He nodded, "Then come, I will take you home."
With that he took a bag of clothes, evidence that he had been looking for her, and handed them to her, "Please, dress, and I will lead you home."
Paulson watched as she shrugged off the duster, put on the clothes he offered, and then she glanced back at them once before leaving. He watched and shook his head. It felt odd, almost wrong to let her go, but he knew that there wasn't any real promise that the Vault would really have been able to help her. That was even if they would have let her in it. He looked at his partner, "Well, how do we report this?"
She glanced at him, "We collect the fingers from the raiders, tell how many we got, what they did, and then go on."
City of Italica - 2281
The four years he'd been freed from those vermints that had kidnapped him had been years learning to live again. Joining the Regulators had been the one thing he knew felt right. And now he was inside of a world that was fertile and full of life. There was land that could be cultivated, large tracks that could be used to run a decent ranch, and God knew there was places where normal crops could be planted.
The entire place seemed almost like a fever dream, but still he was here as part of an agreement with the Brotherhood of Steel. They needed extra hands to act as lawmen in a city they more or less claimed as their own. Paulson had never been much of a city dweller. He was never someone that put much stock in living in a place where there were too many people and not enough cattle. Still, here he was, and he was acting like the great lawmen of the past.
His mind went to the stories of Wyatt Earp. A lawman that understood that people needed to let off steam, but knew how to keep it civilized. He'd wished a few times that he would have had the chance to have met the famed lawman, but he never crossed paths with him. The closest he came to meeting anyone of notice had been a cowhand turned outlaw named Arthur Morgan.
Arthur wasn't a bad man, not in any true sense of the word, but he was also someone that lived by a code that most civilized people couldn't live by. He'd met him on a cattle drive, and the two actually worked together a bit. Arthur explained that he occasionally did cattle work to keep the skills he'd developed doing it sharp. He claimed that he was helping to train a boy he considered to be almost a younger brother. He wanted to see him live a decent life, and Paulson could respect that.
Still, the lesson he learned from Arthur Morgan was simple. Keep your wits about you, watch everyone, and prepare for anything. That lesson helped him in keeping a leaping figure from pinning him. The two clashed for a moment, and shortly after the figure had laughed. That was where he met her. That was where he met Delilah. Over the next month the two of them became friends, and he found someone that he enjoyed spending time with.
The night that they crossed that line between friends to becoming lovers was one that he didn't expect. The two of them laid beside one another, and he looked at the woman he was sure about.
Italica - Delilah - The day Prince Zorzal was escorted back to the Capital
Silently Delilah worked. She looked toward the house that was hers, well hers and Paulson's. The man had been odd at first. She flirted, as normal, but he kindly rejected her. He didn't act better than her, and he didn't seem to think that since he was human that he was simply entitled to her. His uniqueness actually made him quite enticing. She found herself trying to get to work near him, and finally the two of them shared a real conversation. It wasn't odd to see exceptionally long lived individuals.
Rory Mercury herself was well over nine hundred years old. But humans had a limited lifespan. She was surprised to learn that Paulson was over four hundred years old. The explanation was difficult to follow, but she made due. Effectively creatures caught him, experimented on him, and then through magic made him sleep. He lost his home, his wife,.and his child. Much like herself all he knew was gone.
He wasn't only enticing, he was like her. She told the tale of what happened to her village, what had been done, and she expected to be rejected again. He believed in a God she didn't know, one that frowned on her actions, but instead he accepted her. He said that the God he believed in wasn't the kind to throw people away.
He also explained that he believed it was the content of a person's heart that mattered. That night she did something that had been meaningless and cold before, but now it was warm and wonderful. She loved him, and he was gone. He had escorted the Princess back to the capital. She longed for him to return back to her.