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The Gauntlet

Recording by Scribe Ellison

There was no other way out.

The signs for the Gauntlet pointed down a set of concrete stairs, down into the basement of the monorail station. At the bottom of the stairs a corpse, fresh, leaned against the wall with a line of neat holes across his chest. He hadn't even gotten through the door.

Red Eye said, "And she's off! let's hope our latest prey can draw a little inspiration from our previous visitors, eeeugh!" as if he was the one who had to smell the body.

Was I going to have a running commentary the whole time? 'Put on a good show.' the other man had said. And there was a camera, above my head.

Beyond the doorway I heard turrets spinning up. The dead man hadn't expected a trap so soon. But there was cover, the doorway itself and a bunch of toppled Nuka-cola machines in the room beyond, and I had a really good laser rifle. I could do this.

I did not put on a good show. I stuck the dead man's helmet on a stick and waved it at the turrets, let them blast away, then shot them while they were reloading. Then I had to rush to the next bit of cover and do it again. It took a while.

Past that room, which must've had ten turrets in it, I found stairs up into what must have been a parking garage. Metal sheets and doors had been put up to make a maze full of tripwires and makeshift bombs. I saw the first one so I went real slow and didn't put on much of a show there either.

After that someone decided to zap my collar when they thought I was taking too long and that made things harder.

And it went on and on and on. More traps. More turrets. A room full of radioactive barrels and one full of poison gas. That almost took me out; the whole Gauntlet was decorated with dead bodies and the smell was strong enough that I didn't realize what I was breathing until my throat began to burn. By the time I got out of there I was coughing and my eyed burned. So I didn't see the turret that tagged me, carved a scoop out of my upper arm.

Then there were the bugs. Radroaches, some kind of flying ants as big as birds. And…

I was on this thin bridge over irradiated water, trying to lever the door at the end open with a machete I'd picked up. And these bugs, white crickets as big as Dogmeat, jumped onto the bridge and attacked. I got one with the machete but the other one latched onto my calf and started chewing. It couldn't get through the reinforced fabric I was wearing but it hurt and the weight was pulling me off the bridge. So I cut it in half. White goop and guts came out and the back half fell into the water.

The front half kept chewing.

I was hurt and scared and something in my brain just—I chopped the thing into pieces and its head finally let go, then I turned and threw up. Red Eye laughed his head off and repeated the sounds I must've made. "Ooh-ooh-ooh-bleeeeh! Don't know how those cave crickets got in there but they sure gave our victim some trouble!"

At least desire to stab him with the machete gave me the strength to lever the door open.

I was surprised to find that door opened to outdoors. An outdoor maze with raiders laughing and shooting at me through the chain link and metal ceiling. I dodged back under the real roof and drew my laser rifle. Pistol would've worked better at this distance, but lasers don't ricochet.

"Come out and di-e!" Someone hollered and Red Eye chimed in, "Goddamn, look who's in the homestretch! Time for a little audience participation!"

There was a roar of laughter, that I heard in the real world not just through the speakers. The crowd was close. Maybe I really was near the end of this thing.

I leaned through the door, got an idea of where I could shoot through the chain link and where the maze might give me some cover against shots angled from above. This was going to be tough. Shooting up was hard and the maze was clearly designed to be only barely possible. There was cover, crates and walls and pieces of sheet metal laid over the chain link, but I'd have to get from one to another fast.

I almost did it. Then on the last dive into cover a stray shot hit my ankle, tearing through my boot. I screamed. The raiders cheered. I huddled under a wooden roof, holding my ankle with blood getting all over my hands.

With no way out. I couldn't walk, and the moment I tried to move I'd get shot.

"Too bad! This one gave us a good show but it's all over now!" Red Eye declared to a chorus of groans.

A bullet ricocheted off the concrete just outside my cover, and I took a shot back. I hit the raider; there was a scream and more noises from the crowd. I had time to think that this was a stupid way to die, and that I'd never see my kids again.

Then things went quiet. There was some talking quieter than all the hollering, then something dropped at my feet. A syringe of purple liquid, still sealed. Med-x.

"Looks like the Overboss wants to deal with this one personally! We'll get our show after all!" Wild cheering.

Anything that let me live another ten minutes was better than what I had now. I injected the painkiller and gave it a minute to start working, then stood up. I'd be tearing up my ankle by running, but I had to run. So I ran.