A/N: Welcome back to DELTA BOT story hour! Today we see what happens when we mix Damon, a base full of Raiders, and a lot of guns. Not a whole lot to say before we get to the action (which is this chapter in a word). I feel like the story and characters (especially Damon) have been coming into much better focus for me over the past few chapters. You'll see what I mean (hopefully) as we progress through the 40s and into the 50s (... jesus that's a lot of writing). Anyway, leave a review if you're so inclined and, as always, enjoy!
Chapter 46: A New Threat
Around 400 Raiders, armaments ranging from pipe pistols to a handful of recoilless guns, irregular foot patrols ranging anywhere from 75 to 100 of their contingent, and a force centralized around one of the fort-like structures on the west side of the base. 400 plus people weren't really enough for the base, but it was a massive Raider contingent and, from the looks of it, the best organized I'd seen. There was still no sign of Danse, but it appeared the southernmost structure was of some significance with the number of Raiders moving in and out of it. Occasionally a small group of them would leave one of the main entrances to do… whatever the hell this group of Raiders does, probably terrorize any settlements in the area.
That's where I'm waiting now, crouched behind the rusted hulk of something that may have been a truck before the bombs fell just over the crest of the hill to the north of the base. Out of the half dozen small bands to leave the base, this was the road four of them took. Hopefully, the law of averages wouldn't work against me, but I was banking on this being my best bet for capturing a Raider or two and getting a few answers.
Haylen was waiting impatiently on the other side of the street from me, behind her own rusted-to-hell car. Even crouched, she was constantly shifting her weight back and forth, fidgeting with her rifle, and peaking over her cover down toward the base. If anyone down there had a sniper, and the skill to use it, one of these times she'd lose that, and her head isn't one of the things she can go without.
"Relax", I called across the road as softly as I could.
In the long shadows cast by the rusted hulks in the early evening sun, it was a little difficult to tell what her expression was, but she clearly wasn't happy.
"Danse might be in there being tortured, and you've had us skulking around the outside of the base for the last 12 hours. Do you even have a plan?"
I have the framework of one, but a lot of the details depend on what the group of Raiders I capture tell me. The first, and most important, part would be getting down into the base without being seen. If I am seen, instead of sneaking my way through a weak point in their patrol, I'll be fighting a 400-plus-person force. I like my odds against Raiders, but sometimes numbers will do the math for you. These ones were telling me, no matter how inept these assholes are, I lose that fight.
After that, make my way into the building, again, without being seen, and figure out if Danse is in there. Extraction would be difficult if he was because, in all likelihood, he wouldn't be in good shape. I've seen more than enough Raider camps to know how well they treat their prisoners.
Without making a run back to the supply stash I have a few klicks northwest of the airport, I don't have the explosives I need to make a good diversion. That's where Haylen comes in. If things do pop off and a distraction is necessary, she'd start taking shots down into the patrols from the top of the western ridge. It was tall enough to afford a good view down into the base, but with plenty of visual and hard cover, it would allow her to move to the south, where we'd be meeting, with minimal risk.
"Keep your head down. I've already told you what I intend to do."
Haylen grunted but dropped back into a kneeling position behind the car. "Yes, you've told me you're gonna go down there and take a look while I play bait, but that doesn't help. How are you getting in without being seen? How are you getting Danse out without being seen or attacked?"
That's why I wanted to study their patrol patterns and movements within the base. I wasn't interested in giving a lecture on covert tactics.
"This is what I've done for a very long time." I looked back at the base. "I don't have the patience to get into specifics. Besides", I motioned toward the northern exit.
Our prey was exiting the base, heading toward us up the long, gently sloping hill, weaving between the rusted-out cars dotting the road. There were five of them, four men and one woman, all carrying a variety of weapons. As usual with Raiders, none of them seemed especially attentive, talking amongst themselves, gazing around the bowl their base of operations was set in aimlessly and sticking far too close together. If I didn't care about being spotted, or keeping them alive, they'd all be dead within a few seconds.
As much as they still confused me, I was starting to understand why people in the Commonwealth were so afraid of these poorly disciplined roving bands of Raiders. They aren't especially effective, but they're ruthless and persistent. It was an unfortunate combination for the type of person who also seemed to be on drugs most of the time, and already had a penchant for violence.
A few minutes later, they were drawing near to our position. Haylen didn't need to do anything, just make sure she stayed out of the way and ke[t watch on the base for any other activity.
Their heavy footsteps thudded across the broken concrete, 20 meters away. 15. 10. My muscles coiled, left hand wrapped tightly around my knife. While doing this quietly was a priority, a larger priority was not allowing them to attack the Scribe. I haven't used it in a while, but I had my right on the 10mm handgun.
5 meters.
I let the first Raider pass my cover. Then the second. Third. None of them noticed the massive armored form crouching in the shadow of a rusted hulk. They thought everyone was afraid of them, that their presence was enough to deter any attacks.
My legs drove into the ground as the fourth and fifth ones drew even with my cover.
An instant later, my knife was buried in the neck of the closest Raider, a shorter, overweight man whose leather jacket barely fit. He didn't have a chance to react before the blade severed his brainstem and he turned into dead weight.
Second to fall was the woman. She received an elbow to the bridge of her nose, and what was left of her head snapped to the side at an extremely unnatural angle as she crumpled to the broken road surface.
The other three had just begun to turn as I yanked my knife out and the first man's body dropped too.
A shout died on the next closest man's lips as, instead, a rasping gurgle exploded from the structurally superfluous hole my knife left in his trachea.
These last two, I wanted alive though.
As the furthest man raised his rifle, I lunged forward, driving a knee into the ribcage of the first Raider. I felt bones crack as the blow sent him tumbling backward. We were close enough to the base that, if he shouted, they'd hear him, so as he fell, I dropped the handgun and clamped my hand over his mouth.
The last man standing almost had his rifle to bear. Reaching forward with my left, I pressed the knife against his throat as the other man in my grasp crashed to the ground. It left me in an awkward, half kneel, but the wide-eyed surprise and fear on the only still-armed man told me it worked.
"Drop it", I ordered.
He nodded and let the bolt action rifle clatter to the road. The other man was writhing under me, one hand pounding on my forearm, the other grasping at his broken ribs.
This was taken care of. For now. "Anything?" I asked Haylen.
"No", the response came, calm and collected as if everything was normal. It was a marked change from her discomfort before. "No signs of activity from the base."
I nodded. "Jacket and pants. Off."
The first man's eyebrows almost met his hairline.
"I'm not asking."
He looked over my shoulder at his three dead comrades and nodded slowly.
As the tall, slender man followed my instructions, I looked down at the still squirming Raider beneath me.
"I'm going to take my hand away and you aren't going to say anything. You're going to take your jacket and pants off too and join your friend."
Despite the obvious pain in his eyes, the man was staring daggers at me as he tried to pry my hand away from his mouth. I leaned onto him a little more, enough to grind the back of his head into the broken road surface. Blood began trickling through his hair.
"Am I understood?"
He continued squirming. His eyes were full of venom
I'll take that as a 'no'.
If that's the case… I looked back up at the other Raiders. He had his jacket off and was working on his pants. As soon as I cleared my throat, his eyes darted away from his belt buckle and to me as I pulled the knife away from him. I slowly, deliberately pressed the knife into the still struggling man's right armpit, staring my remaining captive dead in the eyes the entire time.
The Raider beneath me tried to scream through my gauntleted hand as his writhing turned into full-blown convulsions. Centimeter by centimeter I continued driving the blade into his chest cavity, never breaking eye contact with the other. His eyes were wide, mouth twisted into a horrified grimace. After a dozen seconds of slow, methodical pressure, the guard hit his armpit and I did the same thing in reverse. As soon as I extracted it entirely, blood exploded from the wound, pouring across the ground and, another half minute later, the Raider grew still.
I slowly, purposefully wiped the knife across the now dead man's jacket before resheathing it and standing. Only one survivor. It wasn't ideal, but it would do, especially considering the horrified stare he was giving me said he got the message loud and clear.
"Finish taking your pants off, then start heading down the hill. I'll tell you when to stop."
Making him disrobe wasn't strictly necessary, I could have searched him. This was quicker though, and I'm sure if I ask some 'enhanced interrogation' specialist somewhere, they'd say it was a way to establish a power dynamic in the interaction off the bat.
Whatever, what matters is he does what I say, and answers my questions.
A minute later, he was standing in the middle of the road, no jacket or pants, just a dirty undershirt that was probably supposed to be white, boxers, and his now ridiculous-looking combat boots. He followed my instructions and, as soon as he was done, began trudging north down the hill. It was in the direction he'd originally intended, but probably not how he'd envisioned the journey.
After traveling a few hundred meters, far enough the crest of the hillside loomed far above us, I ordered him to stop. "How many people are in your base?" I pulled my knife back out.
"I- I don't know. The last time we counted it was around 400 I think", he responded, voice so low and timid I could barely hear it. Sounds about right.
"How many prisoners do you have and where do you keep them?"
"Uh… we- uh I think we've got 10 or 15? I dunno, I haven't been on guard in a few days. We keep 'em in the building in the middle of the left side of the base."
So I'd been wrong about that guess.
"How many people are on guard?"
"Usually two or- or three. We keep 'em chained so there isn't usually a reason to worry about it."
That seemed about right for a group with as little training and discipline as the Raiders. 2 or 3 guards to 15 prisoners? Doesn't matter if they're shackled, that's asking for a problem.
"Are any of the prisoners a Brotherhood of Steel soldier?"
My captive's eyes went wide. "Wh- what? You're here for him?"
That answers that question.
"How long has your group been here?"
The Raider hesitated, eyes shifting from me to the top of the hill, and back. "Why?"
I brandished the knife. "That isn't how this works. How long have you been here?"
"Ri- right. Uh- well, Castle he- uh- he brought the first group in about a month ago, the rest of us got here a week or so after that."
So they were moving into the area, probably from the north.
"Why?"
He blinked. "They- they said we needed to get in on the territory down here. Too much good stuff to let other people fight over."
That was… concerning. If there are larger, better-organized Raider groups to the north, and they decide the Commonwealth is worth their time, things could get a lot messier very, very quickly. "Are there any more of your people in the area?"
The Raider shook his head. "No. We were the first ones. Castle said the bosses wanna keep things tame for now."
Them sending out the raiding parties we'd seen leaving the base made sense then; they're trying to feel out the area and establish themselves before moving more forces into the Commonwealth. While I'm here, if I get the opportunity to take out this 'Castle' guy, that would be a huge help destabilizing this group and their forward efforts. From what I've seen, Raiders rely on strong, ruthless leadership to run. I cut off the head, whoever takes their place probably won't be as capable of holding the group together. If that happens, infighting might tear the whole goddamn base apart.
"Where's Castle?"
My captive shook his head again. "I- I can't tell you."
"Why not", I asked, pressing the knife to the underside of his chin
"I can't tell you cause I don't know man. He don't like to stay in the same place more than a few nights. When he's awake, he usually uses the big building in the middle of the base to plan and talk with the guys back home."
Killing their leader would be difficult then. If he's smart enough to move sleeping locations regularly to avoid being assassinated, this guy might be more dangerous than I was giving him credit for.
One more question.
"How many people do you have 'back home'?"
His expression went from wide-eyed fear to incredulous frown. "Why do you wanna know that? There's more than you can take."
I twisted the knife ever so slightly, digging the blade into his neck. "Number."
"Shit- shit I dunno, maybe a few thousand. It's the biggest chapter east of the Appalachians."
A much larger Raider force was moving into the area. Castle is in charge of this one, but it sounds like there's at least some form of centralized leadership up north. That means these assholes will probably try to absorb the current smaller bands roaming the Commonwealth too. The last thing everyone needs is a bunch of uncontrolled, drug-addicted bands of bandits to suddenly have leadership and organization.
And triple their forces.
For now though, my focus needs to be on recovering Danse. There are still more things I want to know, but now isn't the time to worry about them; the sun is going down, and I need to get the Paladin out.
What to do with this guy though? It isn't like I have any reason to spare him. Unlike the kid I brought back to Sanctuary, this Raider was older, maybe mid-30s, and considering the collection of scars on his face and arms, has seen his share of action.
What if I can get more out of him though? Information will be essential, especially for the smaller settlements in Sanctuary's network.
I don't have anything to restrain him with though…
Clothes.
That could work. There were plenty of clothes back up at the crest of the hill on the four dead bodies. The idea of leaving him alone with Haylen, even hogtied, wasn't great, but I'd rather do that than carry another Raider out of the camp while I'm, most likely, being shot at.
Motioning back toward the top of the hill where Haylen was still waiting with the collection of corpses, I said, "stop when you get to the first body."
The Raider's eyes went from me to the hill. "What are you gonna do?"
"Walk."
He hesitated a few beats longer but, before I could do anything else, he began climbing back toward his dead friends.
When we arrived, the Scribe was still kneeling behind the same car, occasionally peeking down into the base.
"Still nothing", she said quietly.
I nodded and began tearing strips of fabric from my latest victims. A few moments later, the last remaining Raider had his hands and feet bound with a gag in his mouth.
"Danse is in the middle administrative building", I said, pointing to the structure in question.
Haylen's eyes went wide and she opened her mouth to respond but I cut her off.
"I'm going down there, alone. You're going to keep our new friend with you. If anything goes sideways, shoot him and leave."
"I- Danse is my commanding officer", she said, "my friend."
"And you came to me to find him. We found him. If that's all you wanted help with, I'll take him", I nudged the Raider with a boot, "and leave. Otherwise, let me do my job."
Silence took hold as she glared daggers at me. I don't know why, she knew what the right answer was.
"Fine." The word was bitten off so hard at the end, anyone listening would think I forced her to say it. That was an agreement though, no matter how reluctant.
With that settled, I policed a few of the discarded weapons; a rough-looking combat rifle for me, and the bolt action for Haylen. The HK-33 was a perfectly serviceable weapon, but the 7.62mm rounds the sniper fired would be much more useful at the 4-500 meter range she'd be working with.
"Don't assume it's sighted", I said as I handed her the rifle with another dozen rounds I'd dug up. "Your first shot-"
She grabbed the weapon. "Should be a test shot. I know. You aren't the only one with firearm experience."
Uh-huh.
"Good." I hoisted the bound and gagged Raider onto my shoulder and followed her to the west, toward her designated firing position.
A few minutes later, she was laying in a small thicket on the crest of the hill facing the southwest corner of the base. After making sure my captive was properly secured, I slipped to the north and waited for the sky to darken entirely. The base didn't have floodlighting like Diamond City or Goodneighbor. Instead it was set up more like Sanctuary which made sense. Unlike the large settlements in Boston, this was planted in the middle of nowhere, and while a 400-person force might look good, if enough attention gets drawn your way, it's a problem. They did have single spotlights scattered around the perimeter, but as the sun sunk beneath the rolling hills, and night began taking hold, they stayed unlit.
That was perfect for me. Dark armor set against the now almost pitch black surroundings, I slipped down the hill toward my target without incident.
Covering the 400 or so meters as quickly, and quietly, as I could, I soon found myself bordering what used to be the base's perimeter fence. The concrete supports were mostly crumbled into nothing, but there were still signs of the rusted chain links scattered in the field around me. The next patrol didn't look like it would be this way for another minute or so, a massive gap in any guard, but that's what you get without designated patrol patterns.
Now all that stood between me and my objective was about 150 meters of open ground, interspersed with what looked like collapsed buildings littering the area. The problem was that open ground did have some subdued lighting, and several groups were milling around the admin buildings. These obviously weren't Raiders on patrol, it looked like they were just enjoying their evening, whatever Raiders do for fun besides preying on defenseless people and getting high.
There was no way I'd get through them without raising an alarm, even if I killed them.
Dammit…
That means I have to do the one thing I really, really hate.
I have to wait.
There's no rush, and no reason to take unnecessary risks. I could almost hear Katrina's voice. "Sometimes, you just gotta outwait your target."
It never ceased to bother me she was right.
Whatever the case, I couldn't wait here. As I glanced north and south along the perimeter fence, I watched a patrol approach from either direction. There was plenty of dead space between the perimeter and the loitering groups of Raiders to take refuge in, I just needed to find someplace that had at least a little visual cover.
With time beginning to run short, I scanned the collection of debris for something that would work. After a moment, my eyes landed on a pile of concrete and wood. It was impossible to tell what it had been in its previous life, but it offered good visual cover from the loitering Raiders and was behind another cluster of former buildings to keep me hidden from patrols.
It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough.
As the patrols began to draw near, I stole into the perimeter and, a few seconds later, I was laying beside my chosen building.
After waiting for the patrols to pass, I crept forward just far enough to peer around the wreckage and settled in for the most grueling part of any operation.
What seemed like hours dragged by as the dozen or so Raiders continued milling around the buildings.
It wasn't hours. According to my HUD, it was actually only about 25 minutes, but it might as well have been. Every few minutes one would depart, but their trickle was agonizingly slow. When only four remained, a very large part of me wanted to say to hell with it, and deal with the rest. That was my ego talking though. The safest option was to continue waiting. From the drooping postures and almost constant yawning now, I knew they wouldn't be sticking around much longer.
Sure enough, as my wait ticked past the 40-minute mark, the last group meandered away from their hangout spot and further into the base. Probably to bed. The few hours of rest I got during the day were sufficient to keep me going, but a full night's sleep (or what I call sleep) sounded nice.
A quick check of the perimeter confirmed the patrols were making another round. As much as I wanted to get moving, I wasn't going to wait all this time just to have my own impatience screw it up at the last minute. Another five minutes passed as the guards sauntered back and forth along the perimeter before finally giving me enough room to slip across the open space toward my target.
Once I reached the squat, concrete structure my captive designated as their prison, I skirted around it toward the front entrance. It was odd they didn't have any exterior guards. Did they think no one would attack them? Or did they think their patrols would be enough to find anyone who might? My captive said there'd only be two or three guards inside, but those weren't numbers I was going to trust. With 400 plus Raiders milling around the base, even if most of them were asleep, I don't need the problem of an alarm going off.
Unfortunately, with no windows, there was no way of telling where or how many Raiders I'd be facing.
After making sure there was no one watching the entrance, I slipped into the dimly lit interior and found myself in an oddly familiar setting. Of course, the lighting was dim and the garbage and debris scattered across the floor wasn't exactly military regulation, but I'd been in plenty of installations. This place had the same lifeless concrete floors, walls, and ceiling. It had the same sense of apathy most quickly constructed bunkers in the UNSC did.
That was fine by me. The concrete floors meant it was easier to hear any footsteps.
I didn't hear any footsteps. Instead, I heard quiet chatter coming from somewhere above me.
It took a few moments of sneaking around the structure's monotonous, debris-strewn halls to find the stairs, and that was something else that annoyed me. The impact-deadening soles in my boots could only do so much with almost half a ton of armor and SPARTAN on concrete. My legs stayed tensed, and I carefully lowered my titanium-clad boots onto the floor with each step. It reminded me of a few other times I've had to do this during missions.
In every case, the plodding pace was damn near painful.
Eventually, I found the stairs near the center of the structure. As with the rest of the facility, they were concrete and littered with debris. Careful to avoid disturbing the refuse, I climbed the stairs toward the sounds of chatter bouncing down the concrete halls. I found them in a large room that may have been a cafeteria. To my surprise, there were only three guards keeping watch over the dozen prisoners who were all sitting in makeshift cages, chains locked around their wrists. Most of them looked ragged and disheveled, with torn clothing, gaunt faces, and shaggy hair. The only one that didn't was Danse.
The Paladin was worse for wear, hair longer, beard grown out, and clothes dirty, but if anything, he looked pissed. He was leaning against the bars of his cell, glaring daggers at the three Raiders sitting at a cobbled-together table talking amongst themselves. Even if I hadn't been hiding in the shadow of one of the large room's doorways, they wouldn't have noticed me, as engrossed in their conversation as they were.
Yes, these Raiders are better organized than most of the bands I come across, but that isn't saying much when I was able to, quite easily, infiltrate their prison complex without being spotted. Then there's these assholes: guards who are supposed to be watching their prisoners more concerned with chatting.
There was a problem though. While the room didn't appear to have any windows, any shouts could still draw the attention of anyone outside. Gunfire would definitely raise the alarm. While I didn't have to worry about the prisoners shooting, I did have to worry about them yelling. On top of that, the guards may have been tightly grouped, but they were at least a dozen meters away. I could cover that distance before any of them would get a shot off, but then there's a few seconds before I kill them where one gets lucky. If the base goes on alert, exfil will be a challenge. I didn't bring anything along that would blow a hole in the exterior wall, and both entrances will be covered.
Would a concussion charge be loud enough to be heard outside? … Probably.
So I can't shoot, I can't let them shoot, and I can't use any entry charges…
What about…
My gaze went to the rubble-scattered hallway floor. A fist-sized chunk of concrete caught my eye.
That's another option.
I hefted the small piece of the ceiling. It probably weighed a kilo, maybe two. This could work.
After collecting two more, I settled back at the corner and peered into the room. All three were still talking, none had a weapon in hand.
Good.
Taking aim, I pulled my arm back, leaned around the corner just far enough to get a clean throw, and hurled the impromptu projectile at the furthest Raider. It flashed across the intervening distance and crashed into the side of my target's head with a wet crack. He tumbled out of his chair and, as he hit the ground, I released the second chunk of concrete. Just like the first, it caved in the back of another Raider's skull.
Just as I threw the third, my target began standing-
And the chunk slammed into his left shoulder.
Breaking bones was audible over the whump and the Raider screamed in pain as he toppled to the concrete floor.
Son of a bitch.
No time to worry yet, he was still alive, scrambling on the ground for his sidearm. I rushed forward, yanking my knife from its sheath, and slammed an armored boot down on the Raider's questing right hand. He didn't have a chance to scream again before I buried my knife in his throat. Whatever air he'd gathered for the shout bubbled out past the blood pouring from the wound.
"Holy shit", a surprised whisper came from the cells behind me. When I turned to look, Danse was staring at me, expression a mixture of confusion and anger. "Damon, what the hell are you doing here?" The other prisoners were staring as well, most with wide-eyed shock.
"Haylen came to me for help finding you."
Barely audible shouting made its way through the walls of the building.
Great. Great plan Damon. Throw rocks at them. We need to get a move on.
I knelt over the last man I killed and began rooting through his pockets.
"Don't bother", one of the other prisoners said.
"Why?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder at the woman. She was older, with ragged, graying hair and a long scar tracing the bottom of her chin.
"They don't keep the keys on the guards." She snorted. "They were losing too many prisoners when they got excited."
My face twisted into a grimace as I looked back down at the three dead men.
The brute force way then.
Standing, I marched toward Danse's cell. The bars were steel, but it looks like they were welded together by a blind man. The latch itself was secured with a series of small, inconsistent blobs. No wonder they chained their captives too, they probably could have broken through these locks.
As more shouts made their way through the concrete walls, I grasped the door and, with a violent jerk, wrenched the latch from its housing. The metallic snap wasn't much quieter than my last victim's scream.
Danse stared up at me as I ducked into the cell, more anger than confusion in his eyes now. "Haylen came to you? Why?"
"Ask her", I said as I grabbed the chain. It was secured to the steel bars with equally shoddy welds. An instant later, those broke too. I don't have the time, nor the patience to explain how I'd gotten myself involved in this. Besides, that explanation should probably come from her, not me.
With the bracket broken loose from the cell, the Paladin, or former Paladin unwound the chains and stood. He looked like he wanted to say more, but I had very little doubt he knew we were on the clock.
I ducked back out of the cell and studied the other prisoners.
"You came here for him, huh?" the woman asked. "So what, you're just gonna leave us locked up?" There wasn't any accusation in her tone. If anything she sounded resigned.
What do I do with them? Freeing them will take a few minutes without keys, and then what? I have a dozen extra people I'm trying to escort out. That would have been difficult before the alarm was raised.
"You don't gotta say anything tin man", she said. That's a nickname I haven't heard in a while. "I can see it in how you're lookin at us. You got your man and that's all you came here to do. Can you do us one favor then? Just get us outta these cells? None of us wanna stay in here anymore, if that means we die tonight, we'll go down swingin'."
The other prisoners nodded their agreement. I've seen enough Raider camps to understand that sentiment. Death would be preferable to what these motherfuckers do to people.
Still… I'm leaving them behind to die…
It's either that or leave them in their cells. They clearly don't want that.
"Alright", I said, nodding. "Danse, take a gun, watch the entrance."
The relief spreading between the remaining prisoners was palpable. "Thanks, tin man." The others muttered their agreement
Danse hesitated for a heartbeat before retrieving a handgun from one of the guards and moved out into the hall. As he did, I strode to the woman's cell and broke the door open with another sharp snap. Once her hands were free, I moved to the second cage. The man within was barely able to stand, but he still stared up at me, tears in his eyes.
"Damon", the former Paladin called from the hall as I broke open the seventh cell. "They haven't come in yet." There was a concerned edge on his voice.
They haven't come in yet? I stepped into the cage and grabbed the chain's bracket. What are they waiting-
My world exploded.
Blinding white light drowned everything out, and the ringing in my ears would have been deafening if it hadn't been coming from them. Pain lanced through my right side, then my shoulder, and I felt something slam into my back hard enough to drive the air from my lungs.
I've been blown up enough times to know what that feels like.
As my vision cleared, I found myself staring up at the ceiling through the bars of the cell. Bars that were supposed to be facing the wall. While I couldn't hear the siren blaring in my ears, I saw my shield's status bar was depleted. My entire body ached, my right side pulsing with waves of pain. I glanced down to find the occupant of the cell on my chest. Or what remained of the young girl. Her left side had been blown away entirely, dead, glazed eyes staring back at me.
They blew up their own prisoners… My head was still swimming from being tossed across the room, but that thought managed to make its way through my beleaguered mind.
These are Raiders, I should have expected that from these bastards. They blew up their own goddamn prisoners. Even the lowest of Insurrectionists didn't do that. I wanted to say to hell with recovering Danse. To hell with Haylen's request. These fuckers deserved to die. Every single one of them.
But even as rage boiled through every square millimeter of my body, I knew that was stupid. I couldn't take on 400 armed fighters, no matter how poorly trained, in the position I'm in now. Right now, I need to get out of here and get Danse and Haylen to safety.
A faint shout made its way through the ringing in my ears. Who was yelling? Danse?
"Damon!?"
I felt someone beside me and, when I turned to look, the Synth was standing there, struggling with the cage.
"Damon goddammit snap out of it! I need your help! I can't lift this!"
No time to think right now, I need to get moving. Fortunately, the cage had been blown straight away from the wall and landed with the open door face down.
Rolling the body off of my chest and setting her aside, I twisted-
And pain speared through my right shoulder. Something was damaged, but that doesn't matter in a fight. What matters is moving.
Sharp lances jabbing into my arm, I gritted my teeth and twisted so I could get my back against the bars and legs under me. I tensed and pushed against the heavy steel cell. It slowly started shifting, a dull groan coming from the bars as they took weight they were never supposed to. My right side was burning, but I couldn't let that stop me; they'd be moving into the building now, and I need to be ready.
After what seemed like an eternity, I had the weight of the cage supported and, pulling with my left hand, shifted it off to the side. It rolled over and slammed to the concrete floor with a boom.
Unburdened from the cell, I looked around the now dust-filled room. Four other prisoners were still standing: the woman who had been the one to speak, the third one I'd freed, a man who was probably the same age as her, another, a younger man who was still gathering himself off the concrete floor, maybe Danse's age, and a teenager with shaggy brown hair and faded, torn clothes, huddled in the far corner away from the collapsed wall.
The other captives I'd freed must have been standing too close to the blast; they were both dead, the older man missing half of his face. Body parts from the others were scattered across the room.
Somehow, the MK18 was clamped to my back, and the combat rifle I'd taken was still on its sling.
"Go", I ordered, my voice hoarse, nodding to the exit. Danse didn't hesitate, he turned and slipped into the hall, handgun at the ready. Now that there were only four… Should I bring them with us? Hell getting Danse out would be hard enough but leaving them here now…
Danse is my priority, but if they stay here, they're dead.
The two men ambled after Danse. It probably wasn't the best idea, they both looked unsteady, but at least they were moving in the right direction.
I turned to the woman, who still looked shell-shocked, her eyes glazed and wandering, hand to a bleeding wound on the side of her head. "Come with me."
She blinked, as though the words didn't register.
We don't have time for this. I stalked forward and took hold of her arm with my left hand. "We need to go." The boy was still cramming himself in the corner. "Hey! If you want to live, you need to come with me."
He shook his head violently and, when I took a step toward him, he shoved away from me, trying to make himself smaller.
Alarms were going off in my head. The woman seemed cooperative enough, but I can't haul two people around with me and keep everyone alive.
"Please", I said, and even I could hear the urgency in my voice, "we need to go."
The teenager didn't respond.
Someone grabbed at my arm. I turned to see the woman trying to pry herself from my grip.
"Take him", she rasped. "I'll be fine."
She didn't look fine, hell she looked like she was about to collapse, but we didn't have time to argue. I nodded, releasing her, and grabbed the terrified kid. He squirmed and writhed in my grasp.
"Stop! Please- please just let me go! Let me go!" His voice was shrill, bordering on horrified.
This was going to make things difficult. "Calm down", I barked as I pulled him over my shoulder. It didn't work. He continued trying to break free.
Gunshots erupted in the hall. Our time was up. Hell, it was way passed up.
I tested my right arm as I moved into the hall ahead of the woman. Pain throbbed through my shoulder and chest as I raised and lowered it, but nothing serious. Hopefully that meant it was just a muscle or ligament strain.
Danse was leaning into the staircase, firing his confiscated handgun down toward whatever Raiders were trying to move up toward us. He glanced at me with the kid over my shoulder, still squirming, but nowhere near as much as he had been.
"I'll take him."
He'd take the kid? It would make fighting a lot easier with a compromised arm.
There was no time to argue about it. I nodded, pulling the teenager from my shoulder and set him beside Danse.
The former Paladin moved aside to allow me to take his position on the staircase. "Hey, what's your name son?" he asked as I sighted down to the first floor.
We wouldn't be able to fight our way out down the stairs. As far as I knew, there was only one staircase, and I don't have the ammunition to deal with 400 Raiders. That left the roof.
"Newton", he said quietly.
Someone peeked around the corner and I rewarded them with a bullet to the left eye. My shoulder panged in protest as the rifle kicked into it, but it was pain I could deal with.
"Alright Newton, we're going to get you out of here, but you need to do exactly what we say. Got it?"
"How?" the teenager asked, half whimpering.
"I'm a Paladin with the Brotherhood of Steel, and Damon there is a Knight. Everything will be okay."
Well, if the Brotherhood leadership hadn't revoked our ranks, that was technically true.
"Our only option is the roof", I said, squeezing off another round into the corner to keep our attackers at bay.
"Understood. Okay, I want you all to stay right behind me. We need to go fast and you can't stop for anything."
"We get you", the woman replied.
"Good." Danse sidled up next to me. "On your go."
I counted down from five, waiting for another Raider to try their luck. At two, three of the bastards did at once. The first two had their heads blown away before they could get more than a few rounds off, and the third scurried back behind cover. As soon as she did, I slipped across the staircase and dumped my magazine into the corners they were hiding behind.
The five raced up the stairs and, once my rifle's bolt locked open, I followed. I swapped a fresh magazine in and chambered a new round just in time to hear footsteps pound up to the second floor behind me. As I reached the third story, I turned, sighted on the corner, and dropped a Raider who came careening around it.
Now was a perfect time for the last concussion charge I had on me.
My arm throbbed again as I primed the charge and tossed it back down the stairs. It detonated at my back as I jogged after the other three. I had one grenade on me in case of emergencies. I think this counts
Once I reached the first intersection, I knelt in the center and pulled the grenade from my belt. Right hand still holding the rifle trained on the top of the stairs, I pulled the pin with my left thumb and kept the spoon depressed. It didn't take more than 10 seconds for the pounding footsteps to start up the staircase. Before they could crest it onto the third floor, I began firing once again. After the fifth round punished my shoulder with its kick, I let the spoon go, gave the grenade a two count, and lobbed it into the staircase.
Without waiting to see the results, I started after the others once again. The explosive went off with a whump and the concussion hit me in the back. That would at least keep them busy for a bit.
When I caught up with Danse and the freed captives, they were at the service door to the roof. It was propped open and the former Paladin was scanning the area beyond.
"Looks clear", he said, glancing at me.
I nodded. "We've got thirty seconds."
A report cracked from somewhere in the hills to the west.
Haylen. Of course she hadn't followed my orders.
"On me." I ducked out of the door and double-checked the roof. It was flat with a railing around its edge but, other than that, nothing for Raiders to use as cover.
There were a half dozen dead Raiders sprawled in the space between us and the perimeter. The Scribe did good work. Even better, since there was very little by way of protection in this area, it was free of living ones too. That was probably a result of the others dropping dead from sniper fire.
Peeking over the edge, it looked as though the downclimb would be pretty simple. There were plenty of ledges and features to hold onto, most almost thick enough to stand on.
"Danse first, then the two of you", I pointed at the two men. "After they're down, you", I motioned to the last two tagalongs, "are with me. Once you get to the bottom, stay tucked against the building, I'll cross and clear for you to follow."
The Paladin looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn't. He was used to being combat effective. He was used to being in power armor. A sprint across 150 meters of open ground, then up another 300 meters of hill was suicide without cover. I'm wearing Mjolnir. There's a reason for that.
"Understood." As soon as the word left his mouth, the former Brotherhood soldier walked to the edge and climbed over the railing. An instant later, he disappeared beneath it as he started his downclimb.
A moment later, the two men followed.
The teenager cautiously approached and, after a moment's hesitation, dropped over the edge as well.
"Damon", the woman called. "I can't do it."
I turned to her. "Why?"
She motioned to her right leg, blood spilling down the outside. "It's getting hard to walk. I don't think I can climb."
Shit. I've gotten them here, I'm not going to let something like that stop me.
Swinging the door shut, I slammed my boot into the bottom hinge, bending it beyond usability. That would give us a few more seconds.
After another quick sweep of the area to ensure it was clear, I turned my back to the woman and knelt.
"Let's go."
"Are- are you-" she cut herself off and grabbed on.
"I won't be able to hold you, wrap your arms around my neck." That felt… odd to say, but it wasn't like she'd be able to strangle me.
The woman did, and I climbed over the edge. Danse and Newton were about halfway down and gunfire was still occasionally sounding from Haylen's position. I hope she isn't saying put…
As I reached the halfway point, my right shoulder screaming, in protest, the other two reached ground level. We needed to move faster, at this pace-
The instant I put weight on my right foot, the concrete piece I was on gave way. The only thing I had a hold of was an exhaust pipe with my right hand, and suddenly I was hanging from it. The six-centimeter-wide steel tube's groan was only matched by my own as it forced itself through my gritted teeth. The pain radiating from the joint surged anew and I scrambled to find another hand or foothold. Banging was coming from the door above.
After a few seconds, I found purchase, but that few seconds of dangling by my injured arm was agony. Panting, I took a few heartbeats to allow the pain to subside ever so slightly and finished the downclimb.
Once my boots touched the ground, the woman dropped from my back and staggered toward the wall.
"Thank you."
I nodded. The hard part was still yet to come. I have a 200-meter sprint ahead of me across open ground, my arm was throbbing almost as bad as it had been right after the explosion, and an entire base of Raiders bearing down on us. Haylen had them stuck for now, but there were too many of the bastards, soon they'd get past her fire with sheer numbers.
Bang.
Twisting around, I pointed my rifle straight up and sighted it on the edge of the roof. No more than a second later, a Raider's head appeared at the edge and I put a round through the bottom of their chin.
Danse's handgun joined in as another two came into view.
The Paladin's slide locked back and he slapped a fresh magazine in. "GO!"
He was right, standing here and fighting however many of those freaks came out would only buy the rest more time. I needed to trust him to keep the five of them safe for the next few seconds. Hopefully, Haylen could see what was going on and adjust.
As he started firing again, I launched myself into the void between the building and perimeter. My feet pounded against the pitted concrete, every stride jarring my arm and sending pain lancing into my chest. That was fine though, that was pain I could deal with, an injury that wasn't fatal.
Halfway across the no man's land, gunfire started kicking up chunks of concrete around me, one hit me in the back of the leg, but none of it slowed me. I have one goal, and that's to get out of the perimeter so I can cover the others.
That's the only thing that matters.
A few seconds later, I crossed what was left of the fence surrounding the base and skidded to a stop. My shoulder was throbbing, but it wasn't important. Turning to the others, I dropped to a knee and began firing.
By this point, there were at least half a dozen Raiders on the roof, with another four hanging over the edge, dead. Those were the first to go. Unfortunately, my confiscated rifle wasn't sighted in well, and it took me four shots to work out I needed to aim about a meter low and to the left. With iron sights, at this range, that wasn't the easiest thing I've ever done.
As the sixth Raider fell, more poured out onto the roof. Danse must have realized they couldn't wait any longer because he ushered the freed captives forward into the opening. A shot rang out behind me and I watched as one of the men on the roof tumbled over the railing to land head first in a splatter of blood. Good, Haylen had adjusted.
I began scanning the rest of the base. The Raiders were beginning to get more adventurous. I saw glimpses of them peering out from behind surrounding buildings. Switching between targets, trying to keep the group of painfully slow-moving rescuees alive was difficult. The task was made even harder by my injured shoulder and lousy firearm.
Miss high. Wide left. Hit the corner.
My shooting was sloppy. If I kept missing, one of these bastards would get an open shot.
The rifle's bolt locked open and I didn't bother reloading. I need kill shots, and in my current state, that means I need something I'm comfortable with.
Casting the combat rifle to the side, I pulled my MK18 from its mag clamp. The precision-made rifle felt natural as I pulled it into my shoulder, sighting through the high-quality scope on the nearest corner of a building at my 2 o'clock.
An instant later, the head of a Raider appeared around it and I squeezed the trigger.
The high velocity 7.62mm round crashed into the bridge of her nose and turned her head into a tapestry on the wall behind her. My shoulder panged even harder with the heavier kick, but if that's what it takes.
My rifle barked again, and a Raider tumbled from one of the roofs. And then another fell to a shot straight through his neck that almost decapitated him.
It boomed again and again and, just as the group reached me, the last round slammed into a particularly brave Raider that tried his luck with a sprint of his own. The woman had a noticeable limp now and Newton had to help her begin the climb toward Haylen's position.
Now I had another decision I didn't think I'd need to make: do I stay at the base of the hill and provide covering fire, or move up with them to provide physical protection. Neither was a good option, but the choice was made for me when a surge of Raiders rushed from their cover. A higher pitched, staccato crack sounded from the top of the hill and a few of the attackers tumbled to the ground, but there had to be 50 or 60 of them. I wouldn't be able to drop all of them before they reached us.
Rifle reloaded, I snatched the confiscated weapon off the ground and backpedaled up the hill, firing one-handed into the Raiders as I went. With the uneven ground and my shoulder, the shots weren't good, but the rounds hit hard enough, they didn't need to be. Between Haylen and I, six of the bastards hit the pavement within the first 30 meters.
As bullets began peppering the hillside around me, I turned to run after the others. Those shots weren't accurate, but it only took one. They were going too slow though; it wasn't just about getting up the hillside, we needed space.
Slamming a new mag into the combat rifle I shouted, "Danse!" The Paladin glanced at me just in time to catch the weapon hurtling at his head. I spun around again and shouldered my MK18. The rifle kicked against my shoulder as I spent the rest of that magazine firing on the advancing force. Another four tumbled to the ground, but more were coming from behind. There was no coordination, barely any covering fire, but the mass of bodies was so overwhelming, they almost didn't need it. We'd managed to down, what 10? That's barely worth talking about.
Too slow.
I reached the group before they'd made it a quarter of the way and placed myself between them and the Raiders as best I could. A barrage of incoming gunfire peppered the hillside, a few deflecting off my shields.
Danse and Haylen were both still firing back down the hill toward our pursuers but at this point, it was almost useless. They weren't hiding from sniper fire anymore, which means the few we manage to pick off on the way won't mean anything. What needs to happ-
A scream from behind me drew my attention away from the approaching mod. One of the men was tumbling down the hill, smearing blood along the way. I vaulted over the body, catching sight of the gunshot wound just below his left collarbone. The others didn't stop though, they kept scrambling toward relative safety at the top of the hill.
Just as I turned to re-engage, my world exploded again. Dirt and rock were blown into the air as I was thrown sideways. I came down on my back and slid to a stop.
No time. No time.
My head was ringing, again, and now my left leg throbbed to match my arm, but I don't have time to care about that right now.
I glanced up the hill. The others were still moving.
The group of Raiders was coming though. They reached the base of the hill before the small group was halfway up. We need more time. They need more time.
If the issue is numbers and space, I can make space.
"Danse", I shouted over the din of gunfire as I got my feet under me. Rounds started crashing into my shields more and more. They were draining quickly. I need to move. "Tell Haylen I'll meet you at the safe house tomorrow morning. We were there yesterday, she'll know where it is." I hope. The barn wasn't too deep in the woods, but it was hidden. She'd remembered where Listening Post Bravo was after not having been there for months. If not… tracking them down would be a pain in the ass, but things couldn't keep going like this.
I didn't wait for an answer. My legs were already carrying me north, angling away from the small group as they reached the crest of the hill and dropped behind cover. I didn't need every Raider to follow me, just enough to give the others some breathing room.
Apparently, they weren't concerned about it.
The entire onrushing mob shifted toward me, leaving the others to flee.
That… worked surprisingly well.
Unfortunately, I still had to pace myself. If I disappeared into the night, the Raiders would turn back for my charges.
So I instead slowed myself to match the charging force's pace, weaving up the hill toward relative safety. Now that I was moving, the spray of gunfire coming from them wasn't anywhere near as effective. One in every 40 rounds connected, and my shields were recharging almost as fast as the Raiders were draining them.
My legs continued driving and, even though my left was burning in protest, I didn't slow as I scrambled my way up the dirt and grass hillside.
There was no point in continuing to waste ammo on these assholes. If the Raider I'd captured earlier was telling the truth, whatever forces I dispatched here would be replaced by the thousands of Raiders waiting to the north.
As I crested the hill, I glanced back to see the now thinning crowd still chasing me. They were clearly running out of steam though. We were almost to the northwestern corner of the base, which was a good 600 meters from where we started. That was after the sprint to the perimeter. Half of the force was lagging behind, slowing to take more shots at me. I didn't need to take any more hits now. Ducking behind the crest, rounds cracked overhead. Beyond the crest, the rolling hills blended into forest and, I knew from my scouting earlier, all I had to do was head another half klick west and I'd be enveloped by it.
That's not what I was going to do, not yet anyway.
Turning, I clamped the MK18 to my back once more and drew my knife and handgun. This wasn't to give these assholes something to remember me by, it was to make sure their attention stayed on me, they knew I was the bigger threat.
The image of the dead young girl, body torn in half, laying on my chest flashed through my head.
This wasn't about payback.
My first victim appeared over the crest of the hill a few seconds later and took a 10mm bullet to the head for his trouble.
The second followed before the first had a chance to collapse and I surged forward.
I found myself amid a small group of the bastards.
And that was fine by me.
The burning in my shoulder faded into irrelevance as I flowed from one Raider to the next, stabbing, punching, kicking, and occasionally shooting. Time was almost at a standstill and my prey looked like they were moving through molasses.
Untrained and undisciplined, they didn't stand a chance.
Unfortunately, very few of the mob had held out long enough to reach the hill. A few seconds later, the only thing around me were a dozen or so corpses, throats torn open, skulls crushed, and gunshot wounds to the chest and head.
When I looked back down the hill, more and more Raiders were spilling from the base, but they weren't giving chase. Whoever was in charge finally regained control of their people. The rest that had chased me up were falling back while the others set up firing lines at the bottom of the hill. Just as I flung myself backward, a massive volley of gunfire ripped through the night.
It may not have been as many as I wanted, but it looked like enough. While it may have been drowned out by the gunfire below me, I didn't hear any fighting to my south.
Even so…
I wasn't satisfied.
There were 400 Raiders here, and thousands more in reserve. A few dozen were dead.
That meant nothing in the bigger picture. The Raiders weren't like the Institute or the Brotherhood, where approaching them with a more… tactful response would probably be the better option. These freaks weren't the type you could use conventional wisdom with, and it didn't appear they had any groups working to subvert their intent like the other two did. They attacked and brutalized people because they could. I'm no paragon of morality, but that was cowardice.
That was pathetic.
And it put Sanctuary and the rest of their outlying settlements at risk.
To hell with that.
Gunfire pouring from the base trickled to a halt, and when I stole a look over the hill's crest, the Raider force was still there, holding their lines. They weren't extending their pursuit, creating vulnerable groups to attack, or leaving openings to infiltrate their base. That meant not only was 'Castle' a competent leader, but he also had a competent team beneath him.
Organized Raiders. It would explain why this group, and the larger one it was a part of, had grown to the degree they had.
It's also the last thing I need right now.
The burning in my leg and shoulder came back full force, reminding me, once again, I was injured. If it hurt this bad with adrenaline pumping through me, it would be agonizing once it wore off.
Whatever, I'll deal with that when that happens. For now, I need to head south. The safehouse was a ways away, and maybe I could catch up with the others before they got too far.
With that in mind, I set off to the west, heading for the forest before turning south. The absolute last thing I need after that fight is to lead the Raiders back to the barn. That wouldn't just be dangerous, it would be embarrassing.
X
"Damon?" Haylen asked as she peered toward me, eyes squinting in the darkness. The moon wasn't as bright as it had been the night before, and without the benefit of NVS, she was clearly struggling to see.
"Yeah", I replied, edging my way into the small clearing where they'd stopped.
The Scribe sputtered a sigh of relief. "Holy shit. That wasn't what I expected at all."
Was she talking about me, or the 'rescue'?
They'd lost the other man after I separated, apparently, because there were only four now. That being said, they made good time considering the older woman's injuries. I began tracking their progress through the forest about seven klicks south of the base and caught up with them a few moments ago. They'd stopped to give the two now freed captives rest, both were heaving hard enough I heard them from 30 meters away. After sweeping the area to make sure they hadn't been followed, I slipped toward the line of bushes ringing their chosen stop.
"I can't believe we all got out alive", Newton muttered. He was sitting against a tree, head cradled in his hands.
"Right", the gruff, stilted voice of Danse came from behind Haylen. He was standing beside the older woman, clearly unhappy. "Why did you come find me?"
The Scribe whirled on him. "Because I asked him to. I didn't have anywhere else to go."
Fury crept across the ex-Paladin's face. "Didn't have anywhere else to go? Haylen, if you wanted to find me, why didn't you speak with Elder Maxson? Or Marsaul? Or Rhys?" The fire in his eyes landed on me. "You went to Damon? He's been butchering our people. How could you ask him for help? Besides it being a betrayal of everyone's trust, he could have killed you!"
She shrugged. "I know he could have but-" Haylen's voice caught in her throat. It had been a lot easier for her to say this to me than Danse, apparently.
I let the silence reign as the two former Brotherhood members watched one another. Not only was it not my place to say anything, arguing with Danse, again, held about as much interest as being back at the base. Hell, I'd rather be back there. At least there I could shoot something
The silence fled as Haylen cleared her throat.
"But the Brotherhood, what we're doing here, is it right? Are we doing the right thing?"
Surprise replaced the anger in Danse's eyes, but that quickly turned to disgust. "Is what we're doing here right? Haylen, how can you ask that after everything you saw? After fighting those abominations? After watching them kill Franklin? After hearing the stories from towns and settlements about what they've done?"
"What are we doing though, Danse?" The Scribe's voice was almost pleading. "Look at what we've done to the settlements around us. Diamond city is terrified of us, Goodneighbor is constantly a threat, the smaller towns in the city want nothing to do with us, we've started pillaging the farms in the area, leaving them without enough food on their own and-" Her voice broke and the small woman's eyes dropped to the ground.
"And what's the point of doing this, of claiming we're here trying to save people if we prosecute our best, most reliable Paladin for no reason?" She shook her head. "We aren't doing the things I joined the Brotherhood to do. Lyons… she-"
"No Haylen", Danse said, his voice suddenly soft. "We were on the wrong path, and Maxson helped set us straight. Synths- my kind- are dangerous. Like the Elder always says: unchecked technology will destroy us like the nuclear fire did." His eyes shot to me. "That being said, I won't say I'm not conflicted. The things I've done, the things I've felt. They're real, regardless of whether I'm a Synth or human. I can't help but wonder…" he trailed off, gaze still locked on me.
"No. I can't. I can't put myself above the good of the Brotherhood."
Hayley's shoulders shook. "Then what about me? I can't go back, not now." She shook her head violently. "I can't go back now. You say Lyons had us on the wrong path, but she's the reason I joined."
The Synth's face turned to the ground for a moment and he exhaled, long and deep. "I'm not saying Lyons wasn't a good person, but she didn't have the bigger picture in mind."
"Bigger picture?" Haylen asked, recoiling as if he'd struck her. "What bigger picture, Danse? You're telling me saving the Capital Wasteland, defeating the Enclave, and finishing Project Purity wasn't the 'bigger picture'?" I couldn't see her face, but her voice was borderline furious.
"You're telling me what she did there, what the Brotherhood did there wasn't the right thing to do?"
Danse didn't respond. His eyes were fixed on the Scribe, jaw set. But his shoulders were slumped. He looked defeated. Haylen was just as ramrod stiff as she had been a moment ago.
"I don't know anymore", the former Paladin said, finally breaking the silence. "I've lived to serve the Brotherhood for years. I've always believed we were doing the right thing."
"Do you still believe that?"
He shrugged in an awkward, jerky motion. "I don't know what else to believe."
Haylen scoffed. "You don't know what else to believe, even if that belief means the people we've fought and sacrificed for kill you for no reason? After everything you've done?"
Silence fell over the small clearing as her words faded. Danse held her gaze for a few more heartbeats before his eyes fell to the dirt at his feet. Without responding, he stalked to the edge of the clearing, staring into the darkness.
"So…" the woman mused cautiously. She and Newton were staring at us. "Are you three not with the Brotherhood?"
Not with the Brotherhood? No, they want to kill at least two of us.
I shook my head. "No." The two of them weren't gasping for breath anymore, and we still have the better part of 30 klicks to get back to Sanctuary. "We need to get moving."
It's going to be a long night.
A/N: Like I said, a very action oriented chapter. I'm trying a different way to balance storytelling, world building, and action. Not saying I'm not happy with it to this point, but I think I could be doing it better which is always the goal, right? A little bit of honesty on my part for a minute, and maybe this is a bit of venting, but these last few chapters have been difficult to write. It isn't the story itself, I'm still committed to seeing it through if for nothing more than my own stubbornness. Getting a new job and moving, again, or maybe it's just the lack of motivation. I don't know. The same energy just hasn't been there recently. But whatever the case, I'm not going to let that disrupt my schedule. Like I've said before, I keep a pretty healthy buffer. For the last few months I've been writing every day, and enjoying it. Over the last month though… It's just been difficult to find the energy. The reason I say this is because the last thing I want is that to affect the story. Please let me know if you think anything is slipping. Okay, venting over. Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter and I'll see you all next week!
Next chapter: 7/22, The Hardest Questions…