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Guest
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Here we go again! As I've said in my other two posts, if 4 letter words and human/super mutant relations bother you...begone!
The rest a' ya...do enjoy!
Aftermath
Part 3
Trill sat on the roof of her house, watching the sun set over the barren land. A small breeze kicked up and tossed her raven hair about playfully, tugging at the loose collar of her jumpsuit. It was a beautiful night, and she hadn’t enjoyed a sunset since…well, for a long time. The horizon shimmered a lurid red as the sun dipped lower and lower into the horizon. She surprised herself with an old memory, back when she was just a girl, and not the Chosen One. When she had been old enough to recognize a sunset, it had alarmed her. Trill remembered running to Hakunin’s tent, imploring him to keep the sun from burning up the land.
The thought seemed so…primitive to her now. Had she really been a tribal so many months ago? Her life in Arroyo seemed so unreal and distant. It saddened her, that she had lost that innocence. Now she was just another jaded denizen of the wastes.
Finally, the sun sank fully under the horizon, leaving the sky a deep purple, the clouds still reflecting some of the sun’s last rays. The air cooled quickly without the constant heat of the sun, and another small breeze kicked up. Trill lingered on the roof, and leaned backwards until she was staring up at the sky. While she watched, stars twinkled into existence. The Elder’s had once related a tale passed down from the Vault Dweller, about people actually heading towards the stars in great metal ships. It was certainly a strange concept, but she didn’t doubt the words of the Vault Dweller.
Trill started when she heard someone knock on her door, and she quietly crept over to the edge of the roof. Marcus stood at her door, fidgeting nervously. Trill smiled at the idea that she still made him nervous and watched him for a bit. He ran a hand over his head. He flicked some dirt off of his boots. He put his hand up to his mouth and exhaled into it, checking his breath. Trying not to giggle at his antics, Trill took a deep breath.
“HEY Marcus!” she shouted. The super mutant jumped backwards with a startled yelp, putting his arms up in defense. Trill collapsed into laughter at his expression, holding her sides. Finally looking up, Marcus noted the jovial tribal and he frowned deeply.
“Christ Trill, you scared the hell out of me!”
Trill kept laughing, until she could no longer produce sound, in which case she merely shook with merriment.
“Think that’s pretty funny, don’t you?”
“You…should’ve seen…your face!” Trill gasped, sinking right back into uproarious laughter. Now, the ever-curious ghouls were peaking out of their home, exchanging conjectures about what exactly was going on.
“I’ll show you funny,” Marcus growled, approaching the door again. Trill, to wrapped up in mocking her friend, didn’t even think for a moment that Marcus might be able to reach her. As a result, she was incredibly shocked when she felt a large hand close around her ankle and yank her off the roof. She yelped in alarm, and found herself face to face with Marcus, although she was upside-down.
“Hey! No fair!” she snickered, steadying herself with one hand on his shoulder. He glared at her for a moment, and then a nasty smile split his features, giving him a frightening look.
“Um, Marcus?” Trill ventured, taking her hand away from him and peering at him suspiciously. He wasn’t normally the devious type, but she wouldn’t put it past him. He said nothing, and started walking over towards the mine. Trill tried to twist away, but he had a grip of iron. She made a mental note to never get caught by a super mutant, and instead twisted her waist to see where they were heading exactly.
Near the mine, there was a barrel of water set out for the miners so they could cool down when they took breaks. Realization coalesced in Trills mind and she squealed in protest.
“No way Marcus! That water hasn’t been changed since the bomb dropped!”
He merely chuckled and approached the water barrel. Even from the distance they were away from it, she could smell the brackish water. Desperate, she latched onto his shoulder pads and held on for dear life. They reached the barrel quickly, and the distressed tribal dared a glance into it. She was sorry she did.
“Pleeeeease, Marcus! I’m sorry I scared you, I was just joking around!” Trill begged, forming a death grip on his shoulder armor.
“Really?” he said tentatively, as though he might change his mind. She looked away from the sludge-like water and into his face.
“Yes!” Trill attested, loosening her grip for a moment. It happened quickly afterwards. Marcus yanked her away from him for a moment, so that her grip on his shoulders was relinquished. She screeched in dismay, but her cry of despair was quickly cut off as he dunked her headfirst in the barrel.
As quickly as he dunked her, he let her out and set her on the ground. She coughed violently and made some choking noises, obviously thoroughly disgusted. Marcus laughed heartily as she began to pry unknown substances from her hair.
“Guess we oughta clean that thing more often!” he chortled, crossing his arms over his chest. She glared up at him, seething. Her irritation only seemed to make him laugh harder, and he doubled over, hands on his knees. It felt good to laugh, even if it was at her misfortune. Things had been far too serious lately.
Taking advantage of his vulnerability, Trill charged at him and tackled his mid section, throwing him quickly off balance. Marcus landed heavily on his back, still laughing, while an angry Trill loomed over him, the water in her hair dripping on him. As he got a whiff of the water, his laughter started to wane.
“Yeow, that stuff smells like Brahmin shit,” he said, wrinkling his nose slightly. Before she could reply, a light went on nearby, originating from Zauis’.
“What the hell are you two doing out here?” Zauis demanded, giving both of them disapproving looks. Both Trill and Marcus looked up at him, startled, looking like two teenagers caught doing something they shouldn’t have.
“Well, Zauis,” Trill began, but she was cut off by a hand wave from the mine foreman.
“Never mind, I really don’t want to know what you two were doing…but try not to do it outside my window, alright?” with that, Zauis closed his window and drew a curtain across it. Once again plunged into semi-darkness, Trill and Marcus were quiet for a few moments. Trill turned back to Marcus, an amused look on her face. Marcus smiled back at her. Then the soaked tribal snickered. Her snicker set off a chain reaction, and soon both she and the Sheriff were laughing heartily, trying to stand up and remove themselves to a place where they would be less of a bother.
Finally staggering towards Marcus’, the laughing couple stumbled into his house and collapsed on the couch, earning a curious look from Goris.
“What is so funny?” he wondered, looking at the two. Then he noticed something odd, “Trill, why are you soaked?”
This inspired another peal of laughter, and Trill fell onto the floor, laughing so hard that tears streamed down her face. Marcus attempted to calm down, and marginally succeeded.
“I dunked her in the wash barrel by the mine,” he grinned, pointing to Trill. Goris raised a brow at him.
“Why would you do that?” wondered the Deathclaw. Sometimes, human behavior was beyond his ability to comprehend.
“Well, she scared the crap out of me-“
“He nearly wet his pants he was so scared!” Trill interjected, somehow managing to collect enough air to speak. Marcus shot her a look and then rolled his eyes.
“I wasn’t that scared.”
“Were too!” she squeaked, curling into a ball, her face stretching into the biggest smile he’d ever seen. He was glad she was having such a good laugh, even if it was at his expense. She sure as hell needed it, after what she’d been through recently.
“I see,” Goris said, looking back and forth between them. Suddenly, Goris’ nostrils flared and he grimaced.
“That is one of the most foul odors I’ve smelled in awhile,” noted the Deathclaw, delicately putting one of his clawed hands over his snout.
“I’ll have to agree with Goris…you don’t smell so good.”
Trill, finally recovering from her fit of laughter, sat up and took some deep breathes, her nose wrinkling as well, “Ugh, you aren’t kidding.”
“Maybe you ought to take a bath in clean water this time,” Goris said slyly, treating Trill to a fearsome smile. She smiled back at him lamely and stood, swaying a little to catch her balance.
“Alright, I’ll see you around later, then,” she grinned, heading for the door.
“May as well use ours, while you’re here,” Marcus observed. She turned and raised an eyebrow at him, leaning on the doorjamb with one hand.
“Yeah?” she replied, a somewhat challenging tone in her voice.
“Hey, we promise we won’t peek,” he returned, smiling wryly. Marcus, as if to communicate his casual regard of the situation, put his hands behind his head and leaned against the wall.
“Ah, what the hell,” Trill said finally, heading for the shower, “Be out in…well, however long it takes to scrub this shit off.”
“You two are a strange pair,” Goris noted when she was out of earshot. Marcus nodded in agreement, and let out a long, contented sigh.
“How are you two doing?”
Marcus shot the Deathclaw a double take, “What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” Goris replied. Marcus blinked at him, and then smiled.
“Since when have you been a gossip, Goris?” said the super mutant, leaning towards his grey companion.
“Since you two started being more than just traveling companions,” said Goris. Marcus was quiet for a moment, regarding his friend with curiosity.
“Well, I’d say we’re just fine, Goris,” the Sheriff said finally, leaning his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped, “Why do you ask?”
Goris seemed uncomfortable with the question and looked away a moment. Marcus tried to read the Deathclaw’s expression, but he drew a blank. Although there were occasions where Goris had human expressions, this was not one of them.
“No reason,” he said, his claws tapping on the floor.
“Really?”
“Well,” Goris sighed belatedly, “There is a reason, but I’m afraid I’m too embarrassed to ask.”
“Why?” Marcus titled his head at the Deathclaw, perplexed.
“Typhon wanted me to ask you…something,” Goris admitted, “And I couldn’t help but be curious as well.”
“Typhon?” Marcus said incredulously. Knowing the overly lusty son of Seth, he was pretty sure the question would be of an unsavory nature.
“Yes. He wanted to know…” Goris couldn’t seem to bring himself to ask, “Well, I don’t want to word it like he did.”
“So don’t,” Marcus said.
Their hesitant conversation was interrupted by a loud yelp from Trill, coming from the back of the house.
“What is it?” Marcus called to her, wondering what trouble she had possibly managed to get herself into.
“You have hot water!” she yelled back, sounding slightly accusational. He chose not to answer her, and turned back to Goris.
“I won’t hold you accountable for whatever Typhon dreamed up, Goris, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yup.”
“Well-“
“How come I don’t have hot water at my place?” Trill demanded, “Oh my God, this feels GREAT!”
Again ignoring her, he sighed in aggravation and turned back to Goris, “Better speak up quick, before she gets out of there and starts raising hell.”
“Have you and Trill…” Goris trailed off for a second, searching for the correct, and least offensive, word.
“Have we had sex?” Marcus offered, opening his hands. Goris looked at him in surprise and nodded.
“How did you know that’s what I wanted to ask?”
“When you said ‘Typhon’ I figured that’s what it was. And no.”
“I suppose he’ll be disappointed to hear that,” said Goris after a beat, feeling a bit relieved he wouldn’t have much to tell Typhon. Marcus grinned and shook his head.
“Dammit, Marcus, don’t you own any towels?” whined the Tribal, sounding especially plaintive.
“Yeah, yeah, hold on!” he called back to her, hefting himself off the couch. Marcus patted Goris on the back and smiled broadly at him.
“Good luck,” Goris said. Marcus nodded.
“I’ll need it.”
**
While she waited for Marcus to bring her a towel, Trill stood directly under the spout and let the hot water flow over her body. Steam had formed in the small room, giving it a misty look, fogging up a dingy, cracked mirror on the wall.
She reached up and re adjusted the spout so she could enjoy more of the water, and realized it was strange that she had been able to reach it. Well, she mused, I guess they don’t make showers for super mutants. Trill tried to imagine Marcus taking a shower in the cramped space she now stood in and chuckled to herself, wincing as her diaphragm protested, still weak from her earlier outbursts.
“Something funny?”
Trill jumped as Marcus’ deep voice spoke almost right next to her.
“Ever hear of knocking?” she finally managed, glaring at the shadow that was Marcus on the other side of the plastic curtain.
“Well, I figured you were having a towel emergency, so I rushed in,” Marcus said sarcastically, flopping the towel over the bar, “And there you are, O Chosen One.”
Savoring the hot water for a few more moments, she grudgingly turned it off and nabbed the towel. First, she plopped it on her head and rubbed her hair furiously through the towel. Her hair was thick, and it collected moisture quickly. After her hair was no longer soaking wet, she toweled the rest of her body off, and slung the towel back over the bar.
Trill peeked out from behind the curtain, noted that she was alone, and quickly donned her jumpsuit. She sniffed herself, and then smiled, satisfied that she was free of the barrel’s unsavory scent. Heading for the living room, she stretched and sighed contentedly. Now that she thought about it, she had never actually had a hot shower before. It was a luxury she was already quite fond of.
“Feeling squeaky clean?” Marcus teased, reclined on the couch, a stack of holodisks on an end table next to him. She chose not to answer, and sat next to him.
“What are you up too?” she asked.
“Shipments,” he grumbled, adding the disk he was holding to the stack and putting the holodisk reader aside as well, “But I’m really not in the mood.”
“No?”
“Nope,” he said, putting an arm around her, “What are you up to?”
“Sitting here,” she said with a grin.
“Could it be that we have found a spot of boredom in our lives?” Marcus mused. Trill quickly tried to shush him.
“You’ll jinx it!” she hissed, putting a hand over his mouth.
Almost on cue, there was an urgent knock on the door.
“Told you,” Trill teased. He shook his head at her, tousled her wet hair, and went to answer the door.
“Yeah?” he was surprised to see Liz, the owner of the general store, standing before him. It was well known that she had little love for mutants, so it was odd that she might come to talk to Marcus.
“Hello, Marcus,” she said flatly, her voice quavering slightly. It was obvious to the Sheriff that it had taken awhile for her to swallow her pride and come talk to him, so although he didn’t approve of such behavior, he did his best to make their conversation a positive experience.
“Hey Liz. What’s up?”
“There’s…something near my store, in the alley. I don’t know what it is, and I’m,” Liz paused, refusing to meet the super mutants eyes, “I’m to afraid to look.”
Instead of waiting for her to ask, Marcus offered help, “Would you like me to check it out, Liz?”
She merely nodded, and he motioned her inside. Surprising him for a second time, she accepted. In the welcoming lights of his home, she looked very pale, and her hands were shaking. Instantly concerned, Trill helped her to the couch.
Marcus went into his room, retrieved the mini-gun that Trill had gotten for him, and headed for Liz’s store.
“Be careful,” Trill said as he left. He nodded back to her and gave her a thumbs up.
“I’ll go with you,” Goris offered, trotting after Marcus. Deathclaw and super mutant headed off into the darkness.
Trill watched them head over to Liz’s for a moment, and then turned to the stoic shopkeeper.
“Do you know what it was?” she asked cautiously, not wanting to further upset the obviously shaken woman.
Liz shook her head and hugged herself, “All I know was that I heard something in the alley, but I couldn’t bring myself to check it out,” then she whispered, “I’ve never been so scared.”
Trill frowned, and looked out the window again. Marcus and Goris were barely against the single streetlight that illuminated the entrance of Broken Hill’s. She hoped they would be all right…she had a bad feeling.
**
“See anything, Goris?”
Goris shook his head, squinting into Liz’s shop, “No…but she did say she heard…whatever it was outside.”
“I know, but I wanted to make sure,” he exited and looked toward the alley, “Let’s check it out.”
The two headed for the alley, but didn’t get far. Both were overcome with an overwhelming sense of dread, almost as if they had walked into a concentrated manifestation of the emotion.
“What the hell is that?” Marcus breathed, stopping dead in his tracks. He had an almost undeniable urge to run away from the alley, and it took all his willpower not to flee.
“I don’t know,” Goris whispered back, also tense. They stood in place for a few minutes, grappling with their baseless fear. Marcus took initiative. He gritted his teeth, hefted his mini-gun, and took a step towards the alley…and nearly cried out. He swore loudly and profanely, his whole body tied into a tense knot. He thought he could hear Trill shouting something out the window, but all his concentration was focused on not fleeing in terror.
He took another step towards the alley, and he almost collapsed, keeping himself upright by leaning his mini-gun on the ground. His muscles were on fire from being so tense, and he was sweating profusely. What the hell was going on?
**
From her vantage at the window, Trill watched as Goris and Marcus checked out Liz’s shop, and then stopped dead a few feet from the alley. They seemed to linger there for a moment, and she noted that they looked like they were having some difficulty. Did they see something she couldn’t see? While she pondered, she watched Marcus finally take a step…and yell loudly. Instantly on alert, Trill scrounged around for a weapon, didn’t find anything, and ran outside anyway.
When she got closer, she noticed that Marcus was leaning on his mini-gun and Goris seemed to be rooted to the spot. When she got a few feet from the alley, a strange feeling welled up inside her and she gasped as though she had been struck a physical blow.
“Holy shit!” she exclaimed. This is certainly a new experience, she thought grimly. Doing her best to ignore her mounting apprehension, Trill approached Marcus, who was now breathing heavily. He was probably trying to take another step towards the alley.
Ultimately, when she was standing next to Marcus, she could no longer block out her mind numbing fear, and stopped dead.
The three of them now stood by the alley, none of them able to do anything but resist bolting. What was causing the phenomenon? They seemed to be in limbo, caught between their instinct and intellect.
It was Goris who managed to overcome his dread first, and he charged into the alley without warning. Already beyond terrified, Trill fell to her knees, barely catching herself with her hands. As he entered the alley, the unnatural feeling practically exploded in her mind. It was maddening, as if all the fears lurking in the back of her mind leapt out into her consciousness.
And then it was over. She let out an audible gasp for air and quickly leapt to her feet, surprised at how quickly the oppressive feeling had vanished. Marcus seemed equally surprised, and soon his mini-gun was once again primed for battle.
Goris exited the alley, a small bundle cradled in his arms, “Here’s our problem,” he said softly. Unable to see anything in the dark, they quickly headed back for Marcus’ to see just what had cause three adult beings to nearly loose their minds.
Liz watched them enter warily, standing in a corner near the door. Goris placed the bundle, a pile of dirty rags, on the couch and stepped back. He had a strange look on his face, but Trill couldn’t identify it. Carefully, she pulled back one of the rags and gasped.
It was a child. A girl. No more than 6 or 7 years old by the look of her. And she looked bad. She was malnourished, her bones visible under her skin, and her straw colored hair was stringy and brittle. There was something odd about her that she couldn’t place, though…something that made her out of the ordinary.
“Does she have a tail?” Marcus said aloud, leaning closer to the unconscious child. Trill blinked and picked up the rag she had put aside…sure enough, a small, skinny tail wiggled weakly beneath it, undeniably attached to the girl. It wasn’t the only thing odd about her. As Trill looked closer, she noted the girl seemed to be lacking any sort of human-like nose, and had a sort of blunt snout instead. The girls mouth was open as she breathed, and her teeth looked like they were fused into a few flat pieces instead of many.
“Well that’s new,” Trill said with shock, “What do you suppose she is?”
“She looks almost human.”
“But she isn’t,” Liz snapped from her corner. The three of them turned to look at her, but avoided their eyes and left, muttering a ‘Thank you’ to Marcus before she closed the door. Ignoring the woman’s rudeness, they turned back to the girl, who appeared to be stirring.
“She’s waking up,” Trill said, knowing she was stating the obvious, but feeling that she had too.
Slowly, the little girl’s eyes fluttered open, revealing startling red irises. Her eyes were blurry for a moment, and then they focused and her eyes grew wide. With startling quickness, she flattened against the couch, her tail shaking furiously.
“Hey, hey,” Trill said softly, putting up her hands, “We aren’t going to hurt you, little girl.”
The tribal hoped she was being comforting and non confrontational, but it was hard to tell just what was going through the strange child’s mind.
Her eyes darted nervously over all their faces, and she curled almost into a complete ball, her red eyes peeking out from underneath her wild, delicate hair. As her eyes fell on Marcus, recognition seemed to reach her for a moment, and she stared at him.
“Okay, that’s a little creepy,” Marcus muttered, more to himself than his companions. Trill and Goris looked back and forth between the child and the super mutant. The strange child seemed to be staring right through Marcus, not a feeling he was accustomed too coming from a small girl.
“You aren’t my daddy,” she said finally. Her voice was very small, and was scratchy from lack of hydration. Startled by the comment, he shot his companions a quick look, and turned back to her.
“Well, you’re right,” he said guardedly, not wanting to frighten the flighty child, intrigued by the situation.
“Do you know where he is?” she asked, her voice quavering, desperation apparent in her tiny voice. Marcus slowly shook his head.
“No, I’m afraid I don’t…could we help you find him?” he dared. Her eyes finally left him for a moment, darting over at Trill and Goris, who tried to look as friendly as possible.
“I’m very scared,” she squeaked, her ruby eyes glistening.
“Will you let us help you?” Goris asked, also daring to speak up. However, the girl didn’t seem to be startled by him. She merely nodded furiously.
“Please.”
Marcus stood from his crouch and hurried to the kitchen, filled a bowl of water, and returned with it. He offered it to her, and she looked up at him with big eyes, searching his face. A terrible thought occurred to him, and he wondered if she had been kept a prisoner because of her strange appearance…perhaps while in captivity she had been teased with water? She was waiting to see if he would actually give it to her.
Quickly, he set the bowl on the couch and she was on it in an instant, gulping the water down greedily.
“Whoa, don’t drink to fast,” Trill said evenly, a ghost of a smile on her face, “You’ll get a stomach ache.”
The girl licked every drop of moisture from the bowl before she pushed it away. The three companions watched the little girl in awe, each of them speculating on her background.
Trill frowned after the girl pushed the bowl away, noticing she was having trouble breathing. Peering closer at the girl, she realized that she actually had nothing akin to a nose at all…she only had her mouth for breathing. Her little chest heaved until finally she had an adequate air supply.
Reaching a carefully diplomatic hand to the girl, Trill smiled and asked, “Would you like to sleep? We can talk in the morning…is that OK?”
Regarding Trill with her blood red eyes, the girl nodded slowly, cautiously touching Trill’s hand. She flinched and almost drew her hand away as she did so, but the stalwart child forced herself to take Trill’s hand.
“Yes,” the little girl said finally.
“Well, then, I’ll see you guys in the morning,” Marcus said, very unnerved by the child’s piercing eyes. It seemed to him that she was constantly looking over at him when her eyes weren’t otherwise occupied. Goris curled up on the floor, although he didn’t close his eyes. He merely propped his head up with his forearms.
Trill grabbed a folded up blanket near the couch and offered it to the little girl, “You can sleep right here, and Goris will make sure you’ll be all right,” she assured. The girl took the blanket, and immediately nestled into it, appreciating the luxury. Turning out the lights, Trill almost made it out the door before she heard Marcus’ door open.
“Hsst! Trill!” he whispered as quietly as his baritone voice would allow. She crept over to him, and he closed the door behind him.
“What?”
“Um, I think you know.”
She smiled lamely, “Heh, yeah…but I don’t know much.”
Marcus sat at the foot of the bed, and Trill joined him. They sat in introspective silence for a moment.
“Do you think she’s some kind of mutant?” Trill ventured, turning to Marcus. His brow furrowed, as if he was trying to remember something, and he slowly shook his head.
“I don’t think so. The Master experimented with different mutant ‘types’ before he settled on, well, us, I’ve heard…but I don’t recall any of these other ‘types’ even being rumored to be alive. There’s no way that girl is that old, so I doubt it’s that.”
“What else can she be though? Certainly not a product of being exposed to massive radiation, like a ghoul. She’d be more disfigured. I mean, she looks pretty human unless you’re up close. I’ll agree that the Master didn’t create her…he was too much of a perfectionist.”
“What do you mean?” Marcus looked at her.
“Didn’t you see? The only was for her to get oxygen is through her mouth. She had that little snout, but no nostrils or anything. And those eyes…Weird. Not to mention that bizarre fear when we found her…”
The Sheriff nodded in agreement, “Very weird. Maybe her mother was exposed to some radiation?”
“If it was enough radiation to switch around her genes like that, wouldn’t mother have died before she was even close to being born?”
“True.”
Stumped, they sat in silence again, trying to reason out an explanation for the girl’s bizarre existence. Trill groaned and fell on her back onto the bed, putting an arm over her eyes.
“Does it ever end?” she wondered aloud, a resigned expression taking over her features.
“Apparently not. At least she’s not in power armor.”
Trill lifted up her arm and peeked at Marcus, who was grinning at her. She shook her head and kicked at him playfully, “Jerk!”
He easily absorbed her kick with his forearm and smiled smugly at her.
“You’ll have to do better than that,” he noted, flexing his massive arm. Trill snorted and favored him with an incredulous look.
“Ooo,” she said, wiggling her hands in the air with mock fear, “I am oh so impressed!”
“You should be,” he observed, striking another pseudo-threatening pose. Trill sniggered at him, putting a hand over her mouth to cover her grin.
“You’re awfully out of character,” the tribal noted.
“What do you mean?”
“Acting so silly, and all,” she pointed out. He smirked and shrugged.
“I guess you bring it out in me,” Marcus said, ruffling her hair again, knowing that she found it thoroughly irritating. She frowned and smoothed it out again, then let out a tremendous yawn.
“Well, I’m tired. I think I’ll head out.”
“Alright,” he said, pulling her close a moment, bestowing her with a deep kiss. Reluctantly, she pulled away a few inches.
“Keep that up,” she said breathlessly, “ and I’ll never leave.”
“Well, in that case,” Marcus said, pulling her close again with a low growl. She put her hands on his chest in what might’ve been protest, but quickly surrendered to another lusty embrace. Her arms moved from his chest to the back of his head, pressing it closer to her own. His hands, at first on her waist, wandered to her backside and kneaded it gently, pressing her body closer to his. Trill uttered a muffled low moan, feeling her temperature - and excitement - rise.
Trill wasn’t the only one rising to the occasion, and she smiled inwardly as something hard pressed against her thigh. Trill broke the kiss for a moment, her forehead pressed to his, both of them breathing heavily. He grinned lecherously at her, moving one of his hands from her bottom to the small of her back, putting a bit of pressure on it. Giving him a curious look, her back arched slightly. Before her reflexive response faded, Marcus put a large hand over one of Trill’s breasts and ran his thumb over the surface. She shivered slightly in response, her body responding quickly to the stimulus, and she arched her back even more, encouraging him to continue.
“What are you doing?”
Marcus and Trill stiffened and whirled towards the source of the voice. The girl. She was hugging the blanket Trill had given her earlier, her crimson eyes filled with curiosity. There was an uncomfortable silence, and Trill cleared her throat and tapped Marcus’ hand. He looked at her, wondering what she wanted. She cleared her throat again. He raised a brow at her, glancing at the child again. Trill looked down exaggeratedly and then back up at him. He quickly realized her meaning afterwards, and snatched his hand away from her breast.
They both turned back to the girl, schooled smiles on their faces. She was still looking at them, her head tilted.
“Was there something you wanted?” Trill said, tactfully avoiding the question. Marcus, muttering under his breath, removed himself from the bed, and headed for the bathroom.
“Is he mad?” the little girls asked as Marcus left, drawing away from the door.
“Oh no, he’s just,” Trill paused, and then smiled, “Well, let’s say he’s feeling a little unfulfilled.”
“What’s that mean?”
“He’s not mad.”
“OK,” the girl said, a slightly suspicious look on her face. Trill was glad to see that she had calmed down, and realized she didn’t know what the child’s name was.
“Hey…could you tell me your name?” she asked tentatively. The girl looked at her, and Trill felt like she was being scrutinized. Finally, she spoke.
“Ella.”
“That’s a pretty name,” Trill smiled, scooting to the edge of the bed.
“It was my mommy’s. Before she died.”
Trill quietly took in the new information, doing her best not to react too much to it.
“So who gave you your name?” the tribal pried, hoping she wouldn’t end up traumatizing the girl. Ella fidgeted with the blanket, and her tail wiggled sinuously behind her.
“My daddy. Mommy couldn’t because she died when I was born.”
Trill’s heart broke for the small child…she was bearing a terrible burden for such a small girl. Again, even though it pained her to do so, she continued to gently press Ella for information.
“So your daddy raised you?”
Ella nodded, and her eyes clouded a little, “Yes, until he told me to run away.”
The strange child began to shake, and Trill carefully gathered the skinny girl in her arms, “Shh, it’s alright. I’m sorry I asked, we don’t have to talk about it anymore.”
Shaking her head, Ella looked up into Trill’s face, “But you need information to help me!” she protested. Trill looked at her, startled. Advanced talk for someone who looked so young.
“Alright, Ella, but only if you want to.”
“He…he told me to run away because he knew that Bad Men were coming, and they might try to take me away. So he told me to go, and that he would come get me after they left. He was really scared, and I knew he was lying…I knew he was afraid the Bad Men would kill him, but I listened to him anyway.”
Tears were streaming down the slight child’s face, her whole body shaking violently as she relived the experience. While she listened, Trill absently noted that Ella’s tail had wrapped around her arm.
“I ran for a little bit, but then I got scared, and tried to find my way back, but I got lost. I hope…”
Ella could speak no more, and she began to sob quietly, burrowing close to Trill. Finally, exhaustion took over and she began to breath easily, asleep. Trill heard the door creak open, and saw Marcus peeking through it. She nodded to him and he entered, closing the door quietly behind him.
Carefully, he sat next to her on the bed, glancing at the girl.
“Did you hear?”
He nodded grimly, “I was listening through the door.”
“What’s your take?” she asked, lowering her voice a bit.
“I’m not sure. Whatever happened, it must’ve been recent and nearby. I doubt she could’ve survived in the wastes for more than a week by herself.”
Trill nodded, looking down at the sleeping child. Her tail was still firmly twined around Trill’s arm, “Could she get this malnourished in a week?”
Marcus scratched the back of his head and frowned, “I wouldn’t think so, but it seems to be the only plausible explanation,” he grumbled, “This girl is a big unknown. I’m really not sure what to think, at this point.”
“Me neither.”
“Well, I’ll stick her on the couch and head out…tomorrow is going to be a long day, I can tell.”
“Sure you won’t stay?” Marcus asked hopefully, putting a hand on her shoulder. She shook her head.
“Not with this little kid running around,” she said, favoring him with an apologetic smile. He grumbled something under his breath, and let out a long sigh.
“Alright, then…goodnight,” he leaned to kiss her again, but she laughed softly and leaned away.
“Nice try,” she said, standing and winking at him, “Goodnight.”
With that, she closed the door softly behind her, leaving Marcus alone with his thoughts.
Finally, a half smile split his features and he shook his head.
“Figures,” he said aloud, to no one in particular. Turning off the light in his room, Marcus hoped that tomorrow would go smoothly…whatever it entailed.
To Be Continued!
Heh heh! I've been busy with school, and had to write most of this at around 3am, so I hope explains the weird twist of events!
As always, feedback is most welcome ^_^
-Slinky Avenger
SlinkyAvenger@yahoo.com
icq#: 42929444
AOL IM: SlinkyAvgr
The rest a' ya...do enjoy!
Aftermath
Part 3
Trill sat on the roof of her house, watching the sun set over the barren land. A small breeze kicked up and tossed her raven hair about playfully, tugging at the loose collar of her jumpsuit. It was a beautiful night, and she hadn’t enjoyed a sunset since…well, for a long time. The horizon shimmered a lurid red as the sun dipped lower and lower into the horizon. She surprised herself with an old memory, back when she was just a girl, and not the Chosen One. When she had been old enough to recognize a sunset, it had alarmed her. Trill remembered running to Hakunin’s tent, imploring him to keep the sun from burning up the land.
The thought seemed so…primitive to her now. Had she really been a tribal so many months ago? Her life in Arroyo seemed so unreal and distant. It saddened her, that she had lost that innocence. Now she was just another jaded denizen of the wastes.
Finally, the sun sank fully under the horizon, leaving the sky a deep purple, the clouds still reflecting some of the sun’s last rays. The air cooled quickly without the constant heat of the sun, and another small breeze kicked up. Trill lingered on the roof, and leaned backwards until she was staring up at the sky. While she watched, stars twinkled into existence. The Elder’s had once related a tale passed down from the Vault Dweller, about people actually heading towards the stars in great metal ships. It was certainly a strange concept, but she didn’t doubt the words of the Vault Dweller.
Trill started when she heard someone knock on her door, and she quietly crept over to the edge of the roof. Marcus stood at her door, fidgeting nervously. Trill smiled at the idea that she still made him nervous and watched him for a bit. He ran a hand over his head. He flicked some dirt off of his boots. He put his hand up to his mouth and exhaled into it, checking his breath. Trying not to giggle at his antics, Trill took a deep breath.
“HEY Marcus!” she shouted. The super mutant jumped backwards with a startled yelp, putting his arms up in defense. Trill collapsed into laughter at his expression, holding her sides. Finally looking up, Marcus noted the jovial tribal and he frowned deeply.
“Christ Trill, you scared the hell out of me!”
Trill kept laughing, until she could no longer produce sound, in which case she merely shook with merriment.
“Think that’s pretty funny, don’t you?”
“You…should’ve seen…your face!” Trill gasped, sinking right back into uproarious laughter. Now, the ever-curious ghouls were peaking out of their home, exchanging conjectures about what exactly was going on.
“I’ll show you funny,” Marcus growled, approaching the door again. Trill, to wrapped up in mocking her friend, didn’t even think for a moment that Marcus might be able to reach her. As a result, she was incredibly shocked when she felt a large hand close around her ankle and yank her off the roof. She yelped in alarm, and found herself face to face with Marcus, although she was upside-down.
“Hey! No fair!” she snickered, steadying herself with one hand on his shoulder. He glared at her for a moment, and then a nasty smile split his features, giving him a frightening look.
“Um, Marcus?” Trill ventured, taking her hand away from him and peering at him suspiciously. He wasn’t normally the devious type, but she wouldn’t put it past him. He said nothing, and started walking over towards the mine. Trill tried to twist away, but he had a grip of iron. She made a mental note to never get caught by a super mutant, and instead twisted her waist to see where they were heading exactly.
Near the mine, there was a barrel of water set out for the miners so they could cool down when they took breaks. Realization coalesced in Trills mind and she squealed in protest.
“No way Marcus! That water hasn’t been changed since the bomb dropped!”
He merely chuckled and approached the water barrel. Even from the distance they were away from it, she could smell the brackish water. Desperate, she latched onto his shoulder pads and held on for dear life. They reached the barrel quickly, and the distressed tribal dared a glance into it. She was sorry she did.
“Pleeeeease, Marcus! I’m sorry I scared you, I was just joking around!” Trill begged, forming a death grip on his shoulder armor.
“Really?” he said tentatively, as though he might change his mind. She looked away from the sludge-like water and into his face.
“Yes!” Trill attested, loosening her grip for a moment. It happened quickly afterwards. Marcus yanked her away from him for a moment, so that her grip on his shoulders was relinquished. She screeched in dismay, but her cry of despair was quickly cut off as he dunked her headfirst in the barrel.
As quickly as he dunked her, he let her out and set her on the ground. She coughed violently and made some choking noises, obviously thoroughly disgusted. Marcus laughed heartily as she began to pry unknown substances from her hair.
“Guess we oughta clean that thing more often!” he chortled, crossing his arms over his chest. She glared up at him, seething. Her irritation only seemed to make him laugh harder, and he doubled over, hands on his knees. It felt good to laugh, even if it was at her misfortune. Things had been far too serious lately.
Taking advantage of his vulnerability, Trill charged at him and tackled his mid section, throwing him quickly off balance. Marcus landed heavily on his back, still laughing, while an angry Trill loomed over him, the water in her hair dripping on him. As he got a whiff of the water, his laughter started to wane.
“Yeow, that stuff smells like Brahmin shit,” he said, wrinkling his nose slightly. Before she could reply, a light went on nearby, originating from Zauis’.
“What the hell are you two doing out here?” Zauis demanded, giving both of them disapproving looks. Both Trill and Marcus looked up at him, startled, looking like two teenagers caught doing something they shouldn’t have.
“Well, Zauis,” Trill began, but she was cut off by a hand wave from the mine foreman.
“Never mind, I really don’t want to know what you two were doing…but try not to do it outside my window, alright?” with that, Zauis closed his window and drew a curtain across it. Once again plunged into semi-darkness, Trill and Marcus were quiet for a few moments. Trill turned back to Marcus, an amused look on her face. Marcus smiled back at her. Then the soaked tribal snickered. Her snicker set off a chain reaction, and soon both she and the Sheriff were laughing heartily, trying to stand up and remove themselves to a place where they would be less of a bother.
Finally staggering towards Marcus’, the laughing couple stumbled into his house and collapsed on the couch, earning a curious look from Goris.
“What is so funny?” he wondered, looking at the two. Then he noticed something odd, “Trill, why are you soaked?”
This inspired another peal of laughter, and Trill fell onto the floor, laughing so hard that tears streamed down her face. Marcus attempted to calm down, and marginally succeeded.
“I dunked her in the wash barrel by the mine,” he grinned, pointing to Trill. Goris raised a brow at him.
“Why would you do that?” wondered the Deathclaw. Sometimes, human behavior was beyond his ability to comprehend.
“Well, she scared the crap out of me-“
“He nearly wet his pants he was so scared!” Trill interjected, somehow managing to collect enough air to speak. Marcus shot her a look and then rolled his eyes.
“I wasn’t that scared.”
“Were too!” she squeaked, curling into a ball, her face stretching into the biggest smile he’d ever seen. He was glad she was having such a good laugh, even if it was at his expense. She sure as hell needed it, after what she’d been through recently.
“I see,” Goris said, looking back and forth between them. Suddenly, Goris’ nostrils flared and he grimaced.
“That is one of the most foul odors I’ve smelled in awhile,” noted the Deathclaw, delicately putting one of his clawed hands over his snout.
“I’ll have to agree with Goris…you don’t smell so good.”
Trill, finally recovering from her fit of laughter, sat up and took some deep breathes, her nose wrinkling as well, “Ugh, you aren’t kidding.”
“Maybe you ought to take a bath in clean water this time,” Goris said slyly, treating Trill to a fearsome smile. She smiled back at him lamely and stood, swaying a little to catch her balance.
“Alright, I’ll see you around later, then,” she grinned, heading for the door.
“May as well use ours, while you’re here,” Marcus observed. She turned and raised an eyebrow at him, leaning on the doorjamb with one hand.
“Yeah?” she replied, a somewhat challenging tone in her voice.
“Hey, we promise we won’t peek,” he returned, smiling wryly. Marcus, as if to communicate his casual regard of the situation, put his hands behind his head and leaned against the wall.
“Ah, what the hell,” Trill said finally, heading for the shower, “Be out in…well, however long it takes to scrub this shit off.”
“You two are a strange pair,” Goris noted when she was out of earshot. Marcus nodded in agreement, and let out a long, contented sigh.
“How are you two doing?”
Marcus shot the Deathclaw a double take, “What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” Goris replied. Marcus blinked at him, and then smiled.
“Since when have you been a gossip, Goris?” said the super mutant, leaning towards his grey companion.
“Since you two started being more than just traveling companions,” said Goris. Marcus was quiet for a moment, regarding his friend with curiosity.
“Well, I’d say we’re just fine, Goris,” the Sheriff said finally, leaning his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped, “Why do you ask?”
Goris seemed uncomfortable with the question and looked away a moment. Marcus tried to read the Deathclaw’s expression, but he drew a blank. Although there were occasions where Goris had human expressions, this was not one of them.
“No reason,” he said, his claws tapping on the floor.
“Really?”
“Well,” Goris sighed belatedly, “There is a reason, but I’m afraid I’m too embarrassed to ask.”
“Why?” Marcus titled his head at the Deathclaw, perplexed.
“Typhon wanted me to ask you…something,” Goris admitted, “And I couldn’t help but be curious as well.”
“Typhon?” Marcus said incredulously. Knowing the overly lusty son of Seth, he was pretty sure the question would be of an unsavory nature.
“Yes. He wanted to know…” Goris couldn’t seem to bring himself to ask, “Well, I don’t want to word it like he did.”
“So don’t,” Marcus said.
Their hesitant conversation was interrupted by a loud yelp from Trill, coming from the back of the house.
“What is it?” Marcus called to her, wondering what trouble she had possibly managed to get herself into.
“You have hot water!” she yelled back, sounding slightly accusational. He chose not to answer her, and turned back to Goris.
“I won’t hold you accountable for whatever Typhon dreamed up, Goris, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yup.”
“Well-“
“How come I don’t have hot water at my place?” Trill demanded, “Oh my God, this feels GREAT!”
Again ignoring her, he sighed in aggravation and turned back to Goris, “Better speak up quick, before she gets out of there and starts raising hell.”
“Have you and Trill…” Goris trailed off for a second, searching for the correct, and least offensive, word.
“Have we had sex?” Marcus offered, opening his hands. Goris looked at him in surprise and nodded.
“How did you know that’s what I wanted to ask?”
“When you said ‘Typhon’ I figured that’s what it was. And no.”
“I suppose he’ll be disappointed to hear that,” said Goris after a beat, feeling a bit relieved he wouldn’t have much to tell Typhon. Marcus grinned and shook his head.
“Dammit, Marcus, don’t you own any towels?” whined the Tribal, sounding especially plaintive.
“Yeah, yeah, hold on!” he called back to her, hefting himself off the couch. Marcus patted Goris on the back and smiled broadly at him.
“Good luck,” Goris said. Marcus nodded.
“I’ll need it.”
**
While she waited for Marcus to bring her a towel, Trill stood directly under the spout and let the hot water flow over her body. Steam had formed in the small room, giving it a misty look, fogging up a dingy, cracked mirror on the wall.
She reached up and re adjusted the spout so she could enjoy more of the water, and realized it was strange that she had been able to reach it. Well, she mused, I guess they don’t make showers for super mutants. Trill tried to imagine Marcus taking a shower in the cramped space she now stood in and chuckled to herself, wincing as her diaphragm protested, still weak from her earlier outbursts.
“Something funny?”
Trill jumped as Marcus’ deep voice spoke almost right next to her.
“Ever hear of knocking?” she finally managed, glaring at the shadow that was Marcus on the other side of the plastic curtain.
“Well, I figured you were having a towel emergency, so I rushed in,” Marcus said sarcastically, flopping the towel over the bar, “And there you are, O Chosen One.”
Savoring the hot water for a few more moments, she grudgingly turned it off and nabbed the towel. First, she plopped it on her head and rubbed her hair furiously through the towel. Her hair was thick, and it collected moisture quickly. After her hair was no longer soaking wet, she toweled the rest of her body off, and slung the towel back over the bar.
Trill peeked out from behind the curtain, noted that she was alone, and quickly donned her jumpsuit. She sniffed herself, and then smiled, satisfied that she was free of the barrel’s unsavory scent. Heading for the living room, she stretched and sighed contentedly. Now that she thought about it, she had never actually had a hot shower before. It was a luxury she was already quite fond of.
“Feeling squeaky clean?” Marcus teased, reclined on the couch, a stack of holodisks on an end table next to him. She chose not to answer, and sat next to him.
“What are you up too?” she asked.
“Shipments,” he grumbled, adding the disk he was holding to the stack and putting the holodisk reader aside as well, “But I’m really not in the mood.”
“No?”
“Nope,” he said, putting an arm around her, “What are you up to?”
“Sitting here,” she said with a grin.
“Could it be that we have found a spot of boredom in our lives?” Marcus mused. Trill quickly tried to shush him.
“You’ll jinx it!” she hissed, putting a hand over his mouth.
Almost on cue, there was an urgent knock on the door.
“Told you,” Trill teased. He shook his head at her, tousled her wet hair, and went to answer the door.
“Yeah?” he was surprised to see Liz, the owner of the general store, standing before him. It was well known that she had little love for mutants, so it was odd that she might come to talk to Marcus.
“Hello, Marcus,” she said flatly, her voice quavering slightly. It was obvious to the Sheriff that it had taken awhile for her to swallow her pride and come talk to him, so although he didn’t approve of such behavior, he did his best to make their conversation a positive experience.
“Hey Liz. What’s up?”
“There’s…something near my store, in the alley. I don’t know what it is, and I’m,” Liz paused, refusing to meet the super mutants eyes, “I’m to afraid to look.”
Instead of waiting for her to ask, Marcus offered help, “Would you like me to check it out, Liz?”
She merely nodded, and he motioned her inside. Surprising him for a second time, she accepted. In the welcoming lights of his home, she looked very pale, and her hands were shaking. Instantly concerned, Trill helped her to the couch.
Marcus went into his room, retrieved the mini-gun that Trill had gotten for him, and headed for Liz’s store.
“Be careful,” Trill said as he left. He nodded back to her and gave her a thumbs up.
“I’ll go with you,” Goris offered, trotting after Marcus. Deathclaw and super mutant headed off into the darkness.
Trill watched them head over to Liz’s for a moment, and then turned to the stoic shopkeeper.
“Do you know what it was?” she asked cautiously, not wanting to further upset the obviously shaken woman.
Liz shook her head and hugged herself, “All I know was that I heard something in the alley, but I couldn’t bring myself to check it out,” then she whispered, “I’ve never been so scared.”
Trill frowned, and looked out the window again. Marcus and Goris were barely against the single streetlight that illuminated the entrance of Broken Hill’s. She hoped they would be all right…she had a bad feeling.
**
“See anything, Goris?”
Goris shook his head, squinting into Liz’s shop, “No…but she did say she heard…whatever it was outside.”
“I know, but I wanted to make sure,” he exited and looked toward the alley, “Let’s check it out.”
The two headed for the alley, but didn’t get far. Both were overcome with an overwhelming sense of dread, almost as if they had walked into a concentrated manifestation of the emotion.
“What the hell is that?” Marcus breathed, stopping dead in his tracks. He had an almost undeniable urge to run away from the alley, and it took all his willpower not to flee.
“I don’t know,” Goris whispered back, also tense. They stood in place for a few minutes, grappling with their baseless fear. Marcus took initiative. He gritted his teeth, hefted his mini-gun, and took a step towards the alley…and nearly cried out. He swore loudly and profanely, his whole body tied into a tense knot. He thought he could hear Trill shouting something out the window, but all his concentration was focused on not fleeing in terror.
He took another step towards the alley, and he almost collapsed, keeping himself upright by leaning his mini-gun on the ground. His muscles were on fire from being so tense, and he was sweating profusely. What the hell was going on?
**
From her vantage at the window, Trill watched as Goris and Marcus checked out Liz’s shop, and then stopped dead a few feet from the alley. They seemed to linger there for a moment, and she noted that they looked like they were having some difficulty. Did they see something she couldn’t see? While she pondered, she watched Marcus finally take a step…and yell loudly. Instantly on alert, Trill scrounged around for a weapon, didn’t find anything, and ran outside anyway.
When she got closer, she noticed that Marcus was leaning on his mini-gun and Goris seemed to be rooted to the spot. When she got a few feet from the alley, a strange feeling welled up inside her and she gasped as though she had been struck a physical blow.
“Holy shit!” she exclaimed. This is certainly a new experience, she thought grimly. Doing her best to ignore her mounting apprehension, Trill approached Marcus, who was now breathing heavily. He was probably trying to take another step towards the alley.
Ultimately, when she was standing next to Marcus, she could no longer block out her mind numbing fear, and stopped dead.
The three of them now stood by the alley, none of them able to do anything but resist bolting. What was causing the phenomenon? They seemed to be in limbo, caught between their instinct and intellect.
It was Goris who managed to overcome his dread first, and he charged into the alley without warning. Already beyond terrified, Trill fell to her knees, barely catching herself with her hands. As he entered the alley, the unnatural feeling practically exploded in her mind. It was maddening, as if all the fears lurking in the back of her mind leapt out into her consciousness.
And then it was over. She let out an audible gasp for air and quickly leapt to her feet, surprised at how quickly the oppressive feeling had vanished. Marcus seemed equally surprised, and soon his mini-gun was once again primed for battle.
Goris exited the alley, a small bundle cradled in his arms, “Here’s our problem,” he said softly. Unable to see anything in the dark, they quickly headed back for Marcus’ to see just what had cause three adult beings to nearly loose their minds.
Liz watched them enter warily, standing in a corner near the door. Goris placed the bundle, a pile of dirty rags, on the couch and stepped back. He had a strange look on his face, but Trill couldn’t identify it. Carefully, she pulled back one of the rags and gasped.
It was a child. A girl. No more than 6 or 7 years old by the look of her. And she looked bad. She was malnourished, her bones visible under her skin, and her straw colored hair was stringy and brittle. There was something odd about her that she couldn’t place, though…something that made her out of the ordinary.
“Does she have a tail?” Marcus said aloud, leaning closer to the unconscious child. Trill blinked and picked up the rag she had put aside…sure enough, a small, skinny tail wiggled weakly beneath it, undeniably attached to the girl. It wasn’t the only thing odd about her. As Trill looked closer, she noted the girl seemed to be lacking any sort of human-like nose, and had a sort of blunt snout instead. The girls mouth was open as she breathed, and her teeth looked like they were fused into a few flat pieces instead of many.
“Well that’s new,” Trill said with shock, “What do you suppose she is?”
“She looks almost human.”
“But she isn’t,” Liz snapped from her corner. The three of them turned to look at her, but avoided their eyes and left, muttering a ‘Thank you’ to Marcus before she closed the door. Ignoring the woman’s rudeness, they turned back to the girl, who appeared to be stirring.
“She’s waking up,” Trill said, knowing she was stating the obvious, but feeling that she had too.
Slowly, the little girl’s eyes fluttered open, revealing startling red irises. Her eyes were blurry for a moment, and then they focused and her eyes grew wide. With startling quickness, she flattened against the couch, her tail shaking furiously.
“Hey, hey,” Trill said softly, putting up her hands, “We aren’t going to hurt you, little girl.”
The tribal hoped she was being comforting and non confrontational, but it was hard to tell just what was going through the strange child’s mind.
Her eyes darted nervously over all their faces, and she curled almost into a complete ball, her red eyes peeking out from underneath her wild, delicate hair. As her eyes fell on Marcus, recognition seemed to reach her for a moment, and she stared at him.
“Okay, that’s a little creepy,” Marcus muttered, more to himself than his companions. Trill and Goris looked back and forth between the child and the super mutant. The strange child seemed to be staring right through Marcus, not a feeling he was accustomed too coming from a small girl.
“You aren’t my daddy,” she said finally. Her voice was very small, and was scratchy from lack of hydration. Startled by the comment, he shot his companions a quick look, and turned back to her.
“Well, you’re right,” he said guardedly, not wanting to frighten the flighty child, intrigued by the situation.
“Do you know where he is?” she asked, her voice quavering, desperation apparent in her tiny voice. Marcus slowly shook his head.
“No, I’m afraid I don’t…could we help you find him?” he dared. Her eyes finally left him for a moment, darting over at Trill and Goris, who tried to look as friendly as possible.
“I’m very scared,” she squeaked, her ruby eyes glistening.
“Will you let us help you?” Goris asked, also daring to speak up. However, the girl didn’t seem to be startled by him. She merely nodded furiously.
“Please.”
Marcus stood from his crouch and hurried to the kitchen, filled a bowl of water, and returned with it. He offered it to her, and she looked up at him with big eyes, searching his face. A terrible thought occurred to him, and he wondered if she had been kept a prisoner because of her strange appearance…perhaps while in captivity she had been teased with water? She was waiting to see if he would actually give it to her.
Quickly, he set the bowl on the couch and she was on it in an instant, gulping the water down greedily.
“Whoa, don’t drink to fast,” Trill said evenly, a ghost of a smile on her face, “You’ll get a stomach ache.”
The girl licked every drop of moisture from the bowl before she pushed it away. The three companions watched the little girl in awe, each of them speculating on her background.
Trill frowned after the girl pushed the bowl away, noticing she was having trouble breathing. Peering closer at the girl, she realized that she actually had nothing akin to a nose at all…she only had her mouth for breathing. Her little chest heaved until finally she had an adequate air supply.
Reaching a carefully diplomatic hand to the girl, Trill smiled and asked, “Would you like to sleep? We can talk in the morning…is that OK?”
Regarding Trill with her blood red eyes, the girl nodded slowly, cautiously touching Trill’s hand. She flinched and almost drew her hand away as she did so, but the stalwart child forced herself to take Trill’s hand.
“Yes,” the little girl said finally.
“Well, then, I’ll see you guys in the morning,” Marcus said, very unnerved by the child’s piercing eyes. It seemed to him that she was constantly looking over at him when her eyes weren’t otherwise occupied. Goris curled up on the floor, although he didn’t close his eyes. He merely propped his head up with his forearms.
Trill grabbed a folded up blanket near the couch and offered it to the little girl, “You can sleep right here, and Goris will make sure you’ll be all right,” she assured. The girl took the blanket, and immediately nestled into it, appreciating the luxury. Turning out the lights, Trill almost made it out the door before she heard Marcus’ door open.
“Hsst! Trill!” he whispered as quietly as his baritone voice would allow. She crept over to him, and he closed the door behind him.
“What?”
“Um, I think you know.”
She smiled lamely, “Heh, yeah…but I don’t know much.”
Marcus sat at the foot of the bed, and Trill joined him. They sat in introspective silence for a moment.
“Do you think she’s some kind of mutant?” Trill ventured, turning to Marcus. His brow furrowed, as if he was trying to remember something, and he slowly shook his head.
“I don’t think so. The Master experimented with different mutant ‘types’ before he settled on, well, us, I’ve heard…but I don’t recall any of these other ‘types’ even being rumored to be alive. There’s no way that girl is that old, so I doubt it’s that.”
“What else can she be though? Certainly not a product of being exposed to massive radiation, like a ghoul. She’d be more disfigured. I mean, she looks pretty human unless you’re up close. I’ll agree that the Master didn’t create her…he was too much of a perfectionist.”
“What do you mean?” Marcus looked at her.
“Didn’t you see? The only was for her to get oxygen is through her mouth. She had that little snout, but no nostrils or anything. And those eyes…Weird. Not to mention that bizarre fear when we found her…”
The Sheriff nodded in agreement, “Very weird. Maybe her mother was exposed to some radiation?”
“If it was enough radiation to switch around her genes like that, wouldn’t mother have died before she was even close to being born?”
“True.”
Stumped, they sat in silence again, trying to reason out an explanation for the girl’s bizarre existence. Trill groaned and fell on her back onto the bed, putting an arm over her eyes.
“Does it ever end?” she wondered aloud, a resigned expression taking over her features.
“Apparently not. At least she’s not in power armor.”
Trill lifted up her arm and peeked at Marcus, who was grinning at her. She shook her head and kicked at him playfully, “Jerk!”
He easily absorbed her kick with his forearm and smiled smugly at her.
“You’ll have to do better than that,” he noted, flexing his massive arm. Trill snorted and favored him with an incredulous look.
“Ooo,” she said, wiggling her hands in the air with mock fear, “I am oh so impressed!”
“You should be,” he observed, striking another pseudo-threatening pose. Trill sniggered at him, putting a hand over her mouth to cover her grin.
“You’re awfully out of character,” the tribal noted.
“What do you mean?”
“Acting so silly, and all,” she pointed out. He smirked and shrugged.
“I guess you bring it out in me,” Marcus said, ruffling her hair again, knowing that she found it thoroughly irritating. She frowned and smoothed it out again, then let out a tremendous yawn.
“Well, I’m tired. I think I’ll head out.”
“Alright,” he said, pulling her close a moment, bestowing her with a deep kiss. Reluctantly, she pulled away a few inches.
“Keep that up,” she said breathlessly, “ and I’ll never leave.”
“Well, in that case,” Marcus said, pulling her close again with a low growl. She put her hands on his chest in what might’ve been protest, but quickly surrendered to another lusty embrace. Her arms moved from his chest to the back of his head, pressing it closer to her own. His hands, at first on her waist, wandered to her backside and kneaded it gently, pressing her body closer to his. Trill uttered a muffled low moan, feeling her temperature - and excitement - rise.
Trill wasn’t the only one rising to the occasion, and she smiled inwardly as something hard pressed against her thigh. Trill broke the kiss for a moment, her forehead pressed to his, both of them breathing heavily. He grinned lecherously at her, moving one of his hands from her bottom to the small of her back, putting a bit of pressure on it. Giving him a curious look, her back arched slightly. Before her reflexive response faded, Marcus put a large hand over one of Trill’s breasts and ran his thumb over the surface. She shivered slightly in response, her body responding quickly to the stimulus, and she arched her back even more, encouraging him to continue.
“What are you doing?”
Marcus and Trill stiffened and whirled towards the source of the voice. The girl. She was hugging the blanket Trill had given her earlier, her crimson eyes filled with curiosity. There was an uncomfortable silence, and Trill cleared her throat and tapped Marcus’ hand. He looked at her, wondering what she wanted. She cleared her throat again. He raised a brow at her, glancing at the child again. Trill looked down exaggeratedly and then back up at him. He quickly realized her meaning afterwards, and snatched his hand away from her breast.
They both turned back to the girl, schooled smiles on their faces. She was still looking at them, her head tilted.
“Was there something you wanted?” Trill said, tactfully avoiding the question. Marcus, muttering under his breath, removed himself from the bed, and headed for the bathroom.
“Is he mad?” the little girls asked as Marcus left, drawing away from the door.
“Oh no, he’s just,” Trill paused, and then smiled, “Well, let’s say he’s feeling a little unfulfilled.”
“What’s that mean?”
“He’s not mad.”
“OK,” the girl said, a slightly suspicious look on her face. Trill was glad to see that she had calmed down, and realized she didn’t know what the child’s name was.
“Hey…could you tell me your name?” she asked tentatively. The girl looked at her, and Trill felt like she was being scrutinized. Finally, she spoke.
“Ella.”
“That’s a pretty name,” Trill smiled, scooting to the edge of the bed.
“It was my mommy’s. Before she died.”
Trill quietly took in the new information, doing her best not to react too much to it.
“So who gave you your name?” the tribal pried, hoping she wouldn’t end up traumatizing the girl. Ella fidgeted with the blanket, and her tail wiggled sinuously behind her.
“My daddy. Mommy couldn’t because she died when I was born.”
Trill’s heart broke for the small child…she was bearing a terrible burden for such a small girl. Again, even though it pained her to do so, she continued to gently press Ella for information.
“So your daddy raised you?”
Ella nodded, and her eyes clouded a little, “Yes, until he told me to run away.”
The strange child began to shake, and Trill carefully gathered the skinny girl in her arms, “Shh, it’s alright. I’m sorry I asked, we don’t have to talk about it anymore.”
Shaking her head, Ella looked up into Trill’s face, “But you need information to help me!” she protested. Trill looked at her, startled. Advanced talk for someone who looked so young.
“Alright, Ella, but only if you want to.”
“He…he told me to run away because he knew that Bad Men were coming, and they might try to take me away. So he told me to go, and that he would come get me after they left. He was really scared, and I knew he was lying…I knew he was afraid the Bad Men would kill him, but I listened to him anyway.”
Tears were streaming down the slight child’s face, her whole body shaking violently as she relived the experience. While she listened, Trill absently noted that Ella’s tail had wrapped around her arm.
“I ran for a little bit, but then I got scared, and tried to find my way back, but I got lost. I hope…”
Ella could speak no more, and she began to sob quietly, burrowing close to Trill. Finally, exhaustion took over and she began to breath easily, asleep. Trill heard the door creak open, and saw Marcus peeking through it. She nodded to him and he entered, closing the door quietly behind him.
Carefully, he sat next to her on the bed, glancing at the girl.
“Did you hear?”
He nodded grimly, “I was listening through the door.”
“What’s your take?” she asked, lowering her voice a bit.
“I’m not sure. Whatever happened, it must’ve been recent and nearby. I doubt she could’ve survived in the wastes for more than a week by herself.”
Trill nodded, looking down at the sleeping child. Her tail was still firmly twined around Trill’s arm, “Could she get this malnourished in a week?”
Marcus scratched the back of his head and frowned, “I wouldn’t think so, but it seems to be the only plausible explanation,” he grumbled, “This girl is a big unknown. I’m really not sure what to think, at this point.”
“Me neither.”
“Well, I’ll stick her on the couch and head out…tomorrow is going to be a long day, I can tell.”
“Sure you won’t stay?” Marcus asked hopefully, putting a hand on her shoulder. She shook her head.
“Not with this little kid running around,” she said, favoring him with an apologetic smile. He grumbled something under his breath, and let out a long sigh.
“Alright, then…goodnight,” he leaned to kiss her again, but she laughed softly and leaned away.
“Nice try,” she said, standing and winking at him, “Goodnight.”
With that, she closed the door softly behind her, leaving Marcus alone with his thoughts.
Finally, a half smile split his features and he shook his head.
“Figures,” he said aloud, to no one in particular. Turning off the light in his room, Marcus hoped that tomorrow would go smoothly…whatever it entailed.
To Be Continued!
Heh heh! I've been busy with school, and had to write most of this at around 3am, so I hope explains the weird twist of events!
As always, feedback is most welcome ^_^
-Slinky Avenger
SlinkyAvenger@yahoo.com
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AOL IM: SlinkyAvgr
