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[font size=1" color="#FF0000]LAST EDITED ON Jan-02-01 AT 08:25AM (GMT)[p]This final installment is dedicated to my Muses, Dom Devore and True Raven. Couldn't of done it without you, guys.
Italics are marked in '*'
Dig in and Enjoy
Aftermath, Part 8
“First Citizen?” came a timid voice. Lynette did not look up from her work.
“Didn’t I say I didn’t wish to be disturbed?”
“I…I know, Ma’am, but it’s Counselor Maclure…he…he wishes to speak with you right away!”
Lynette looked up at the servant, who was looking at the floor, and frowned.
“At this hour?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“About what?”
“He didn’t say, Ma’am.”
“Alright, dismissed.”
The servant bobbed her head, and quickly left the First Citizen alone. Lynette sighed in aggravation and pushed her work aside. She wasn’t in the mood for another one of the Councilman’s lectures. Besides, she smirked to herself, he won’t have much to say once Trill is killed by a vengeful band of mercenaries. She couldn’t wait until they returned with her head.
Now that she thought about it, it had certainly been awhile. Of course, Duegar had assured her that getting the results she wanted would take time.
Getting up from her chair, Lynette walk calmly to Maclure’s office, a faint smirk on her face. When she opened the door, however, her smirk faded instantly.
“Got your message,” Trill said icily.
Lynette stood frozen in the doorway, staring at Trill as though she was a ghost.
The entire council was in the room, sitting around a table, with Trill standing next to Maclure. None of them looked entirely pleased to see the First Citizen.
Lynette tried to recover, “Why…Citizen Trill, what a pleasant sur-“
“Shut up,” snapped Maclure. The force of his voice quickly cut off the nervous woman, and she stared at him with a mixture of shock and fear.
One of the council members, a woman she thought was faithful to her, stood, one hand on the table, “You disgrace Vault City, Lynette.”
Many of the others nodded, while Trill merely stared at the First Citizen, her dark blue eyes piercing Lynette like hot needles.
“What…what are you talking about?” Lynette protested lamely, leaning against the door she had foolishly closed behind her. She felt like an ant under a magnifying glass.
“Don’t patronize us, Lynette. We are all well aware of your actions. Did you think we wouldn’t notice the exorbitant amount of money you withdrew from the treasury?” asked Maclure, leaning forward in his seat and clasping his hands before him.
Lynette felt suddenly sick. Everything she had orchestrated was falling apart, and there was nothing she could do. She tried to return the tribal’s glare, but could hardly meet her burning gaze.
“We, as a council, have come a consensus,” began Maclure. Lynette found that she was feeling dizzy and leaned against the door. This couldn’t be happening. She was the First Citizen! Didn’t she even get to speak her piece? Certainly, she could make them see why she had done what she had!
“Your actions against Citizen Trill are inexcusable. Hiring mercenaries to dispose of a fellow Citizen is interpreted, to us, as an act of aggression towards all Citizens. Violence towards another Citizen is forbidden by Vault law.”
*This can’t be happening, it isn’t happening, soon I’m going to wake up, I just fell asleep at my desk*, Lynette thought, repeating it over and over in her mind. She almost didn’t hear Maclure speaking.
“Vault law makes it clear that those who do not abide by the rules have no place in the vault…”
*Damn you, Trill!* Lynette screamed inwardly, looking at the scowling tribal with intense hatred.
“We, the Vault City council, hereby strip you of your rank and exile you from this Vault. May the Wastes have mercy on your worthless soul.”
The words hit Lynette hard, and she sank numbly to her knees, whispering softly to herself. They all looked at her and shook their heads. How the mighty had fallen.
“No…no this isn’t real,” she said weakly, her voice cracking. She looked up at them, and was met with a collective look of pity. Pity! They pitied her, when it was themselves they should feel sorry for! They, who had begun to accept twisted freaks into the city, they who had considered releasing the servants, a long-standing custom and benefit to those who were serving, because it ‘wasn’t right’!
She barely noticed two guards pick her up and drag her out to the courtyard, hardly felt them shove her roughly outside the gates and throw a beat up knapsack next to her. In fact, she didn’t move for hours. When she finally did, she merely staggered off into the wastes, without so much as a backwards glance.
***
“Well, two visits within a month, this must be my lucky day!” Cassidy said sarcastically, slapping Marcus and Goris on the back.
“Must be,” grinned Marcus.
“So what brings you here, eh? Didn’t think you’d be back for awhile,” said the bartender, wiping down the counter as he spoke.
Marcus frowned, “We had trouble with some mercenaries,” he said, noting Cassidy’s sudden reaction, “What?”
“Didn’t happen to be two men and a woman, did it?”
Startled by his friend’s accuracy, Marcus leaned forward, “Yeah actually…”
“God DAMMIT!”
“What?”
“They were in my bar awhile back…if woulda known, I woulda poisoned their drinks…” Cassidy trailed off, staring glumly at the wall. Goris offered Cassidy a smile.
“Don’t worry about it, Cassidy. It turned out for the better.”
“I ‘spose. So where’s Trill, anyway? She too knocked up to come see Cassidy?” joked the bartender, punching Marcus on the arm good-naturedly. Marcus, however, did not laugh. Goris looked at the floor, hiding a grin that had popped up on his face.
Put off by the sudden change in mood, he snorted and rolled his eyes, “I was kidding Marcus. Honestly, you need to loosen up…”
Marcus just looked at the bartender, until finally a smile began to tug at the corners of his mouth. He started to chuckle.
“There, see? It was funny…okay not that funny! What the hell is wrong with you two!?”
Goris and Marcus were laughing uncontrollably, leaning on each other, while Cassidy gave them both a reproachful look.
“What’s so goddamn funny!?” demanded the bartender, feeling as though he was the butt of some inside joke. Marcus held up a hand, signaling for him to wait until he calmed down. After a few uproarious moments, he managed to get a hold of himself.
“Well?”
The super mutant tried to speak, but as soon as he opened his mouth he started to laugh again, imploring Goris to try with wild hand gestures. Cassidy looked to the Deathclaw murderously.
“This better be fucking great, or I’m gonna kick both your asses.”
“You see Cassidy,” Goris finally managed, his voice halting as he tried to stifle laughter, “Your joke has a ring of truth.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Remember what you just said?”
“About Trill being knocked up? Christ, I was just,” Cassidy paused and his jaw dropped, “joking…”
He looked to Marcus and shook his head, “You horny bastard,” he muttered, disbelief clear on his face. Marcus couldn’t help but grin at the bartender, shrugging helplessly.
“Well I’ll be damned,” he said after a few moments of silence. Goris looked at the expression on Cassidy’s weathered face and tried to hold back another peal of laughter. There wasn’t much that could surprise the grizzled bartender.
“You all right?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I dunno…don’t want you to have a heart attack or anything.”
“Fuck you.”
“Well, I think I’d rather-“
“Don’t even start!”
Cassidy scowled at his friends, but it was obvious his heart wasn’t in it, “You still didn’t answer my question. Where is she?”
“The Vault medical facility.”
“Can you trust them?”
“Now that Lynette is gone, I’m pretty sure we can.”
He nodded in agreement, relishing the fact that he would most likely never see the First Citizens face again. Moments like that made Cassidy ponder the idea of a higher deity.
“Anyway, I’m not sure when she’ll be done.”
“Not soon enough, I’m sure. May as well grab a drink while you’re here, eh?”
***
The former First Citizen of Vault City was dying…slowly.
She was stumbling blindly over the sun scorched earth, walking more on instinct than conscious thought. Her face was blistered and cracked from exposure to the unforgiving sun and equally cruel wastes. Swollen and infected, her left leg dragged lamely underneath her, the result of a close encounter with a Rad Scorpion. The poison spread through her system slowly, making every movement sickening agony.
Through all of this, Lynette grinned cheerfully, her eyes fixed on something on the horizon.
***
“I can’t believe you got drunk again!” scolded Trill, pressing the accelerator pedal of the Highwayman to the floor. Marcus merely snored loudly, while Goris ruined the upholstery of the passenger seat with his claws as he clung to it for dear life.
“I think he fell asleep, Trill,” Goris said thinly, unable to mask his discomfiture with her speed. He watched the odometer dip past the highest marked speed.
Trill turned in her seat to attest for herself that the super mutant was out cold. He was.
“Honestly, you’d think he’d have some sense of responsibility,” growled the tribal, turning to face forward just in time to swerve around a large rock formation, “Whoops, forgot about that one.”
“Maybe if you turned on the headlights you would be able to see better,” Goris practically squeaked. Trill nodded in agreement, and flicked the lights on, illuminating the barren land before them.
“Hope we don’t run over Lynette,” the tribal said under her breath, a rather malicious smile playing over her lips. Seeing the look on her face when the Council had banished her had been priceless, although deep down she felt sorry for the poor woman. She was likely dead by now.
Several far-to-long heart stopping moments later, they arrived in Broken Hills, coming to a stop near Marcus’ with a squeal of tires. Goris tumbled out of the Highwayman eagerly and gratefully planted all four limbs on the solid ground, “Thank the Den Mother,” he whispered.
Trill peered at the now-snoring Marcus in the back, pondered waking him, and decided against it. Ever since he had found out about her pregnancy, she hadn’t been able to get rid of him. At first it had been flattering and welcome, but now…now it was starting to irritate her.
She walked into his house - their house? - and cast a humorous gaze at the trembling Goris. He always seemed to think her driving was dangerous, but she had yet to get in an accident. Yawning, Trill pulled back the covers on Marcus’ - their? - bed and kicked off her shoes, sitting on the edge of it. She was tired, but she had too much on her mind.
With a sigh, she settled into the middle of the large bed and pulled the covers over her head.
When had things gotten so complicated?
“When you left the village,” she answered herself aloud. It was true. She longed for such simplicity again, but at this point, Trill was certain it was nothing but a far-off fantasy.
In reality, she was one of the most loved - and reviled - being in the wastes. She was in a rather odd relationship with a super mutant, and pregnant with his child to boot. Most of all, she was confused. Weren’t hero’s supposed to live happily ever after?
*Some hero*, she thought sourly, *Screwed people for information, ignored others, killed more than those two combined…quite a savior!*
Trill rolled from her back to her stomach -won’t be able to do that soon - and pressed her face in a pillow. She wasn’t going to get any sleep if she kept thinking like that.
Grumbling, the tribal grabbed a pillow to hold, and nestled even deeper into the bed. Eventually, she drifted off into a fitful sleep.
Hours later, Marcus slouched in, hoping she wouldn’t be awake, waiting to berate him for his behavior. She wasn’t, although she had settled into the center of the bed, an obvious sign she hadn’t expected him to come in before she was awake again. Thanks to Cassidy, he was once again in the ‘doghouse’. Hopefully she would be more understanding if she slept on it.
He looked at her for a moment, and frowned. Instead of the usual peaceful look that accompanied her sleep, her brow was furrowed and a frown seemed to be forming on her face. For a moment he thought her eyes were going to open and he was going to be in for a good scolding, but the moment passed just as quickly.
Carefully, he stripped down to his shorts, ignoring the headache that pounded behind his eyes, and slipped into bed next to her. She muttered something in her sleep, and turned over to face him, but nothing more. Smiling, he put his arms around her and slipped quickly into slumber.
**
Marcus awoke with a start, and noticed first that it was quite light outside. He had probably slept through a good portion of the afternoon. The next thing he noticed was that Trill was gone. Thirdly, there was a note in her place.
“A note?” he uttered groggily, reaching for the folded slip of paper. She never left notes.
Marcus-
I went out for a drive, DON’T come looking for me. Back late tonight.
-Trill
He re-read the note a few times, not quite comprehending it. Don’t come looking for her? What was she up too?
Grumbling to himself, the Sheriff quickly pulled on some clothes and opened the bedroom door. Goris looked up at his entrance and nodded, looking quickly back to his current project. The Deathclaw, having long since exhausted all reading material, was attempting to repair a radio. Seeing as most of the tools required to do the job were too small to fit in his clawed digits, it was taking a long time.
“Goris,” said Marcus, causing the Deathclaw to look up again, “Where did Trill go?”
The Deathclaw shrugged, “I asked her the same thing, all I got was ‘out’.”
“Did she take the Highwayman?”
“Of course.”
Marcus swore under his breath and went outside to confirm her absence for himself. Sure enough, where the Highwayman had been were long black skid marks. He felt his stomach tying itself in knots as he looked at them. Trill was gone, and he didn’t know where she was. More importantly, Trill was gone, and if she got into any trouble, he wouldn’t be there to help her.
A clawed hand brushed his arm, and he looked down at Goris, who looked concerned.
“She said she didn’t want to be followed,” said the Deathclaw. Marcus frowned, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Now he was upset. What was going on with her? Although she was indeed privy to odd behavior, she should have more sense than to go out running around in her condition.
“Not like we could follow her,” the super mutant muttered, staring balefully at the horizon. He couldn’t even think of words to describe how he was feeling.
“She’ll be all right, Marcus. She can take care of herself.”
Marcus didn’t reply, and Goris had a feeling he wasn’t listening, anyway. The Deathclaw stood with him for a moment longer, shook his head, and went inside to work on the radio. Marcus did not come in for some time.
***
Foot to the floor, with the accelerator snugly between the two, Trill plowed her way through the vast wasteland, her thoughts a scattered mess of confusion and anger. She really wasn’t sure why she was so angry, but somehow it felt right that she was. Somehow.
She saw something familiar out of the corner of her eye and slammed on the brakes, the car skidding sideways in protest to the drastic change of speed. Carelessly throwing the car into park, she killed the engine and exited the vehicle. As she rounded the car, she stopped dead in her tracks, as though she had been glued to the spot.
It was a cave.
More specifically, the cave Agent Kunshan’s corpse was currently rotting in.
Memories tried to force their way into her consciousness, but she resisted stubbornly, gazing at the mouth of the cave with morbid fascination. Why had she come here, of all places? What had drawn her to this cave?
Slowly, she found herself approaching the cave, not really wanting to reason why. No good could come from gazing at a mad-mans corpse, and still she pressed on. When she reached the gaping maw of the cave, she lingered, anticipating…what? More than likely the stench that would accompany a dead man, but something more…something that made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.
Trill took a halting step into the cave. Then another. No smell assaulted her nostrils, but the intense feeling of dread seemed to increase with each step into the cave, each step that drew closer to the corpse. She felt ridiculous. There was nothing a dead man could do to her. The tribal had watched Goris maul him, watched Kunshan take one last, shuddering breath.
Nevertheless, the feeling persisted, growing worse with each step. She was reminded of when they had found Ella in the alley, but pushed it quickly from her mind. Thinking about Ella wasn’t in her best interest at the moment.
Fumbling with the small pocket of her jumpsuit, she hurriedly brandished a small flashlight, but did not turn it on. She was formulating a plan as she walked. As soon as she reached the end of the cave, she would turn on the flashlight, make certain Kunshan was decomposing properly, and then run like hell. Not the most heroic plan, but it was all she could muster.
Light was almost non-existent at the back of the cave, and she stopped walking. All she could hear was her own breathing, a decidedly eerie sound in the confines of the cave. Even from where she was standing, she could smell only the mustiness of the cave. In another circumstance, it might’ve been comforting, but she would’ve welcomed it now. Anything to distract from the oppressive feeling of fear gnawing at her every nerve.
Slowly, she brought up the flashlight and aimed it where Kunshan’s maimed body would be. She gulped, and looked over her shoulder. Of course, only the light at the mouth of the cave greeted her, but it was waning. Had she really been in the cave that long?
Clenching her teeth behind pursed lips, she reached a shaky hand to the flashlights ‘on’ button, hesitated, and pressed it with a firm ‘click’.
And she screamed.
***
“Goris, it’s getting dark…where is she?”
“Out,” the Deathclaw jested lightly, hoping to cheer up the brooding super mutant. He didn’t.
“She could’ve at least said when she was going to be back.”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” lied the Deathclaw, terribly worried about the tribal himself. It wasn’t like her to leave so abruptly. He had thought she was acting strangely for the past few days, but passed it off on account of her pregnancy. His Deathclaw senses gave him an extra angle on how people were feeling, and Trill had seemed…he didn’t know, he supposed. Perhaps that was the reason he was worried.
Next to him, Marcus sat on the porch and held his face in his hands, rubbing his temples lightly. Days ago, if he had asked, Trill would’ve rubbed his temples with her deft little fingers, and assuaged his headache almost immediately. Now, however, he had no idea where she was, or if she was all right. Was he really that attached to her, that he couldn’t spend a day apart form her?
*Yup*, he thought miserably, shutting his eyes, *I am one pathetic bastard.*
It wasn’t much comfort that the Deathclaw seemed just as unnerved as he was. Goris was an excellent gauge of how serious a situation was. Although he claimed he thought she was fine, he hadn’t worked on his radio for hours. Instead he had joined Marcus in squinting at the horizon for signs of the Highwayman.
“Please,” he whispered to his boots, “Please let her be safe.”
***
“Well, look what the wastes threw up.”
“Is that who I think it is?”
“None other.”
Lynette looked up at the ghouls, the horrific smile on her haggard face somehow growing. In her sun-baked mind, she had found another Vault, and they were taking her in to be the Overseer. She had followed a ‘sign’ pointing to the Vault for days, and finally staggered into Gecko, her shattered body unable to take her any further.
Harold half chuckled, half coughed, and leaned over her, giving her a good-natured kick in the ribs, “Hey, you still alive?”
She nodded weakly. Finally, people who appreciated her.
“So am I, but I’d say you look a helluva lot worse!” chortled the venerable ghoul, breaking down into a violet fit of coughing that threatened to break him apart. Lynette just smiled.
“Think she went nuts? She’s smilin’ awful big.”
“She was already,” choked Harold, “What’re you talkin’ about?”
“Good point. So what are we gonna do with her?”
“I’m sure we can think of somethin’,” muttered Harold, “In the meantime, drag her to my office.”
“You got it.”
Lynette, had she any moisture left in her body, would’ve cried tears of joy.
***
Nothing.
There was nothing there.
Trill searched the back of the cave as though she was possessed, finding nothing. Not even a shred of armor or equipment. He was gone.
*This can’t be happening*, she thought frantically, staring in disbelief at a dried bloodstain on the ground…a stain that should have been covered by a corpse. Of course, anything could’ve happened between the incident and the present. But whatever could have happened, she doubted very much that it would’ve cleared out everything but some ominous bloodstains.
“Corpses don’t get up and walk away!” she screamed at the empty space, her voice echoing madly in cave. Suddenly, she had an overwhelming urge to run, and she gave in, tearing towards the cave exit at a breakneck pace. Deep down she knew she was being irrational, but she couldn’t help it…something was driving her mad.
She tumbled out of the cave and gasped greedily at the fresh air, resting her hands on her knees, head hanging. Out of the cave, she felt increasing calmer -and sillier- with each deep breath. Trill didn’t think the thought of Kunshan still held that much sway over her; apparently she had been wrong. She felt better now, of course.
Finally at ease, she cast a glance back to the cave opening and waved her middle finger at it for good measure. That felt even better.
Trill actually felt a smile spread across her face, and she chuckled a little. She was ready to go home.
It was very dark by the time she settled into the Highwayman and started it up, angling it back towards Broken Hills. She glanced in the rearview mirror and gasped, whirling in her seat. When she turned, she found that the cave was empty…she had sworn she saw someone standing in it.
“Better leave before you lose all your marbles,” she muttered to herself, speeding towards Broken Hills.
Doing her best not to focus on any of the disturbing thoughts that lurked in her mind, she whistled tunelessly and flicked on the headlights. She eventually settled on thinking what to tell Marcus when she got back.
Distracted, she nearly lost control of the Highwayman when the smell hit her. It was the most foul and awful stench she’d ever smelled, and it felt like it was physically assaulting her. Trill slammed on the brakes and tumbled out of the car, gagging. Apparently the smell was unique to the Highwayman…the night air smelled clean.
Coming to grips with the overwhelming nausea, Trill turned to peer into the still-running Highwayman. The door was askew, still swaying slightly, reeling from the violence of her earlier escape. For some reason, the feeling that had crept up on her in the cave was coming back, slinking up her spine. Shaking it off - for the moment - Trill approached the car and felt her pockets for her flashlight. She didn’t find it, and guessed she had probably dropped it after her panic in the cave.
Cursing her actions in the cave, Trill took a deep breath, held it, and stuck her head into the car.
The front bench seats were empty, save assorted odds and ends scattered about the vehicle. She tried to take in every detail, but was unable to hold her breath much longer. As she pulled her head out, she accidentally inhaled a draught of air, sending her into another fit of gagging. Recovering more quickly than the previous occasion.
Trill took a few calming breaths, held one, and reached for the back door.
As it turned out, she didn’t have to open the door.
It opened for her.
This time, Trill’s voice caught in her throat and the world around her seemed to blur and dim. Leering at her from the inside the Highwayman was Agent Kunshan…or what was left of him.
She couldn’t find the words to speak, and took a staggering step backwards. Her knees almost buckled, and she locked them, rooted to the spot. Trill’s body screamed for her to run, but her brain was occupied with other things; mainly, puzzling how a man who was mauled and killed by a Deathclaw months ago could be in the back of her Highwayman.
Kunshan hissed, the sound rattling around in his dry, weathered throat. The skin of his face was stretched tight over his skull, and had rotted off in places. He had a permanent grin on his rotting visage, and his glittering eyes were sunk deep into his skull. Slowly and stiffly, Kunshan wrapped his decaying fingers around the doorframe and pulled himself upright. He was still wearing his shredded combat armor, and cradled the sniper rifle in his free arm.
He stood, swaying slightly on his decomposing legs, his malevolent orbs fixed on hers the entire time.
Trill felt detached from her body, her brain deciding it wanted no part in deciding why a corpse was in her car. She watched numbly as he took a few lurching steps towards her, gripping the battered rifle in his decrepit hands. The smell drifted to her nostrils again, and the gag reflex snapped her back to what she assumed was reality.
“Mutant,” wheezed Kunshan, prying a hand of his rifle and pointing at her accusingly.
Finally tearing her eyes away from the monstrosity, Trill’s eyes flicked to the trunk, where she had packed her gauss rifle. The thing that was apparently Kunshan didn’t look like it could move very fast, but she knew that assumptions like that could be the last ones she ever made. Perhaps she could lure him away, and then make a break for it?
“H-how?” she managed to stutter, carefully taking steps backwards. Her original question had been a bit longer, but she assumed she got her point across. A terrible sound emitted from Kunshan, and she identified it a few moments later as laughter. However, he did not answer.
Trill steadily gave ground to the Agent, hoping her incredibly simple plan worked. Kunshan did not increase or decrease his speed, and merely hobbled after her, eyes fixed on his target.
Her mind raced as she led him further away from the car. How could he be here? How was it even possible? He practically looked like a ghoul his body was so decrepit, but she had seen him die!
“Can’t run forever,” the supposedly dead Agent giggled, his wrinkled tongue lolling out between his teeth. Trill chose not to respond, and glanced over her shoulder. The last thing she needed to do was trip and fall.
Satisfied that she could dart around him, Trill stopped backing up and stood her ground. The Agent approached a few more steps, and stopped just close enough for her to smell the odor he was emanating.
“Sneaky sneaky,” cackled the abomination, bringing the rifle up into a firing position. Trill resisted the urge to flee until his bony finger was hovering over the trigger. Just as he went to fire, she dropped to the ground and rolled sideways, and sprang to her feet. She tore towards the highwayman as a sharp report echoed across the barren plain.
Kunshan roared angrily, his enraged cry sounding decidedly inhuman to Trill’s ears.
Reaching the Highwayman, she skidded to stop and fumbled with the trunk. Chancing a look at her assailant, she found, much to her dismay, that he was indeed moving faster. Much faster.
The lid clunked open and she blessed herself for setting the rifle on top of all the other junk she had inside. Grabbing it, and an extra clip of ammo for good measure, she slammed it shut and whirled to face Kunshan.
He had disappeared.
Trill swung around madly, her finger ready squeeze the trigger in response to any movement. Anxious, she climbed on top of the Highwayman, and looked around nervously. The car sat low on its chassis, so he couldn’t of gotten underneath it. Wouldn’t she have noticed if he had entered the car?
Nervous, she tried to look everywhere at once, hoping to catch any ambushes he might try to spring. Seconds turned to minutes, and she was beginning to think that she had hallucinated the whole thing. Confused and frightened, she made one last sweep with her eyes, and made to dismount the vehicle.
The Highwayman’s engine roared to life and lurched forward, and Trill gripped the slick metal surface desperately, pining the gauss rifle between her body and the car. The spare clip skittered off onto the ground.
As the vehicle swerved madly and accelerated, Trill tried to attain a less precarious position. Kunshan, who she assumed was driving the car, did his best to prevent this, turning so sharply she feared the Highwayman might flip over.
Slowly, the rifle held fast under one of her arms, Trill pulled herself towards the front of the car, wind whipping through her hair and stinging her eyes.
He swerved just as she was reaching a hand for the top of the windshield, and she cried out in distress, clinging to the vehicle for dear life. As it was, she slid over towards the driver’s side, her left leg dangling over the side of the car. For a few perilous moments she was sure she was going to slide off, but somehow she managed to pull herself back on.
After a few more deft turns designed to throw her, Kunshan turned the car and started driving in a straight line, picking up speed as he did so. Trill didn’t doubt that his foot was flat against the floorboards.
Struggling forwards again, the wind created by the cars velocity pushing at her, she chanced a glance up, to see what he was up to. On the horizon were the lights of a town…Broken Hills.
He was heading straight for it.
Knowing she had to act fast, Trill shifted her rifle into one of her hands. Broken Hills grew closer and closer with each breath she took. Trill held the rifle by the muzzle and slammed the stock of it into the driver’s side window, shattering the ancient glass. She leaned dangerously into the window and grabbed for the wheel, noting that Agent Kunshan was indeed steering the vehicle. He snarled at her as she caused the Highwayman to lurch and lose speed. However, she had not diverted him entirely from Broken Hills.
Kunshan tried to ignore her, and careened towards the mining settlement. Determined, Trill brought the stock back, and then heaved it into the Agents head with all the strength she could muster. Not expecting her attack, the Agent howled in pain, letting go of the wheel for a moment.
Seizing her chance, Trill yanked the wheel as far as it would go. This time, physics was not on her side. Even as she yanked it, she knew that had yanked it too far.
Time seemed to slow down as she desperately leapt from the doomed vehicle. As she pushed herself away from the turning car, she prayed it wouldn’t roll onto her. Trill hit the ground with a sickening crunch, and pain soared through every nerve in her body.
Absently she heard shattering glass and warping metal, but she didn’t think much of it…she was too busy reeling in pain. Her thoughts went instantly to the life in her womb. Wouldn’t such an injury endanger it?
Metal-clad feet crunched awkwardly towards her, and she tried to move, without success. Any movement caused her intense pain. The terrible stench that clung to Kunshan invaded her senses, and she gagged, struggling against the blinding pain to get away.
“Sneaky bitch,” the foul man hissed in her ear, grabbing her hair. Trill screamed in agony as he lifted her up by it roughly. Through her hazy vision, she found herself face to face with him. His breath was hot and fetid against her skin, and she felt an overpowering urge to vomit.
This time she did not resist the urge, and Kunshan’s face covered in bile. He released his grip on her hair in surprise, and quickly went to wipe it from his eyes.
Trill took in shuddering, sobbing breaths and dragged herself slowly away from the mad man. She could see the Highwayman out of the corner of her eye, and hoped it was repairable. Her eyes were fixed on Broken Hills. On the Highwayman it had seemed close, but it never looked so far away to her now. She imagined she could see people scurrying around in under the lights, coming to help her.
A hand closed around her ankle and dragged her backwards fiercely, scraping her against the gravelly ground.
“You won’t get away this time,” grated Kunshan, yanking her up by her hair again.
“F-fuck you!” Trill managed to gasp. He chuckled at her dryly.
Half dragging, her, Kunshan went to inspect the Highwayman.
“If my rifle is damaged in anyway,” he noted, “I’ll evcirate you with my bare hands.”
Trill was losing her grasp of the situation quickly, and tried to run through her options. She could only think of one.
“HELP!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, struggling lamely in Kunshan’s iron grip. He ignored her, sifting through broken glass and various objects that had fallen from the car. Trill screamed continuously, wondering if her voice carried, or was just taken away with the wind, never to be heard.
She screamed herself hoarse very quickly, and she feared that Kunshan was starting to give up hope of finding his rifle. Her time was running out.
Voices drifted to her ears, and she strained to hear where they were coming from, to identify the voices. Kunshan apparently heard them as well, and he turned towards the sound.
“Oh look,” he sneered, “your little friends are coming to help.”
Trill felt relief wash through her despite the situation, and relaxed slightly in Kunshan’s grip. Thankfully, she had grown used to the sickening smell. As both she and Kunshan waited for the approaching group, she heard something she hadn’t before. A low beeping noise seemed to be emanating from the Agent. Curious, she tried to get a better look, but his grip on her hair prevented any such movement.
“Trill!?” came Marcus’ voice. She never thought she would be so relieved to hear him.
“Marcus!” she croaked, somehow squeezing sound out of her haggard throat. Her heart soared, and for the first time since the cave, she felt hope.
The Sheriff’s hurried steps crunched quickly over the ground, followed by the stealthy, almost soundless steps of Goris. Kunshan made a triumphant sound, and yanked his rifle from a pile of rubble, quickly pressing it to Trill’s head and backing away from the Highwayman.
Marcus and Goris came around the Highwayman and froze in their spots, stunned.
“What the hell is that?” Marcus muttered to himself, an expression of horror on his face. Goris looked as though he might be sick, and Trill guessed his Deathclaw olfactory senses were in overload.
“I’m glad we’re all here,” wheezed Kunshan, getting a better grip on Trill. She made a distressed noise in protest, but couldn’t muster the strength to struggle.
“Let her go,” Marcus said flatly, all emotion gone from his voice. Goris glanced at him in alarm, and noticed that the super mutant was practically shaking with rage. Kunshan found his statement amusing and chuckled nastily.
“I’ll let her go all right…straight to hell! I want her to suffer first, however,” he growled, “Put down your weapon.”
Marcus clenched the mini-gun tightly in his hands, obviously less than pleased with the idea. Kunshan pressed the muzzle hard into her head, causing Trill to whimper softly. Marcus dropped the gun, and kicked it away.
Kunshan leveled the gun at Marcus for a moment, and then swung it to Goris, “I think you’re more deserving, considering,” noted the ghoulish Agent. Disdainfully, he heaved Trill onto the ground, and clutched the rifle with both hands.
Trill looked up at him groggily, fighting of unconsciousness, and finally pinpointed the beeping sounds from earlier. There was a small box near the back of his neck, with tiny blinking lights on it. She hadn’t noticed it before, mostly because the lights hadn’t been on. Did that have to do with anything?
Goris stared down the barrel of the sniper rifle with increasing dread. No one was going to swoop in and save him, that much was certain. He was tough, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t survive a bullet to anything vital at this range.
“See you in hell,” gurgled Kunshan, pulling the trigger. He cried out just before he fired, losing his aim. The shot went wild and caromed off the derelict Highwayman.
“Sneaking bitch!” snarled Kunshan. Trill had managed to heave herself into him, and way lying prone at his feet. She managed to spit at him and prepared for the worst.
Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Marcus and Goris crept forward until he swung the rifle up again.
“That’s far enough,” he said coldly, “Your time is up.”
He put a foot onto Trill and pressed down hard, and she gritted her teeth, fighting not to cry out or pass out. Then he leveled the rifle at Goris and pulled the trigger.
Trill watched in horror as Marcus leapt into action, pushing the Deathclaw out of harms way. Unfortunately, he wasn’t agile enough to leap out of the way himself, and it struck him squarely in the shoulder, throwing him back. Unable to withstand any more stimulus, Trill blacked out.
Goris roared in protest when Marcus threw him out of the way, watching in horror as the sniper round pierced through his shoulder armor and knocked him down. What was he thinking? Deciding he didn’t have time to dwell on the question, Goris charged the foul smelling creature with all the speed he could muster. As he charged, he tried to pinpoint were the bizarre beeping was coming from. He had heard it when they had come upon the Agent, and it was bothering him a great deal.
Kunshan was recovering from the rifles recoil when he noticed Goris bearing down on him, and for the first time a bit of doubt manifested in his dead blue eyes. He swung the rifle at the Deathclaw, and Goris leapt to the side with frightening speed, forcing him to readjust aim again. Goris moved again, but instead of re-adjusting, Kunshan pointed the rifle down to where Trill was passed out.
The Deathclaw looked on in horror, pushing his body to go beyond its limits, wishing he had wings.
Suddenly, Marcus, howling Trills name like a war cry, barreled into the Agent, knocking him down with an unpleasant snapping noise.
Goris skidded to halt as Marcus did his best to wrestle the sniper rifle from Kunshan’s death grip. The scholar carefully moved Trill away from the scuffle and turned to join Marcus when he was sure she was still alive.
He noticed just in time the rifle was shakily pointing in his direction and leapt aside just as it went off.
“You can’t kill me!” wailed Kunshan, struggling against Marcus’ crushing weight.
“Watch me,” hissed Marcus, twisting the decaying wrist until it snapped audibly, essentially freeing it from the Agents grasp. Goris quickly snatched it and disabled the weapon.
“Hold him, Marcus,” Goris said, determined to find the source of the beeping on Kunshan’s person. Eager to kill him, Marcus grudgingly obliged.
“How’s your shoulder?” the Deathclaw asked as he searched. Marcus grimaced.
“It’s been better.”
“Lift him up a bit.”
Kunshan struggled and protested violently, but found that Marcus wasn’t in the mood for his antics. Goris peered underneath the Agent, and quickly noticed the blinking lights.
“I think I’ve found something…”
“Oh?”
Goris reached for the box, and had just touched it when Kunshan began to wail plaintively.
“No! Don’t touch the box! Do anything you want, but leave it alone!” he squealed, a panicked look on his rotted face.
“Why not?”
“DON’T TOUCH IT!”
The Deathclaw met eyes with Marcus for a moment, nodded, and yanked the box off. It was harder to remove than he first thought, and spray of fluid erupted from it. Surprised, Marcus jumped back from the spray, allowing Kunshan a precious moment of escape. Instead of running for it, however, the Agent leapt madly at Goris, grabbing for the leaking box.
Goris fended him off easily, and threw him backwards, “What do you want the box for?”
Even in the dim moonlight, Kunshan seemed to be loosing strength. He didn’t even recover from Goris’ shove. Instead, he started to drag himself to a puddle of the thick fluid and tried to stuff it in his mouth, dirt and all. As they watched, he started to slow down, growing stiffer and more corpse-like with every second that passed. Soon, he took one last rattling breath and went still, his eyes staring at the box longingly.
“What the *fuck* just happened?”
“Well, I assume it had to do with this,” observed Goris, turning the box over in his hands, “I suppose we ought to take this to Vault City tomorrow.”
Marcus hadn’t stayed to listen to the Deathclaws answer, however. He was at Trills side, carefully gathering her up in his arms. She moaned softly, but did not stir.
From the looks of her, she had taken a nasty fall. Considering the Highwayman was a mess, he gathered she had leapt from the car. Her suit was shredded in bloody in a few places, and it looked like she had broken a good portion of her arm. Of course, he’d seen worse, but he still felt a tinge of fear not only for her, but also for their child. The pregnancy was chancy at best, she’d told him…anything extreme could put it jeopardy.
He turned to Goris who simply nodded to him and grabbed Kunshan’s body. Together, they headed for Broken Hills.
Kunshan’s body burned long into the night.
***
Trill dreamed.
In her dream, she was back in Broken Hills, sitting on a hill overlooking the town. It was a warm day, with a pleasant breeze. She was at peace, her eyes closed.
Soft, warm fingers caressed her face, and she opened her eyes to see who it was.
“Ella.”
“Yes,” agreed Ella, smiling. She was a child again, but her hair was smooth and full, her body sleek and healthy.
“I thought you were gone?”
Ella shook her head, “Never gone. Just not where you could see me, Trill.”
“Why are you in my dreams?”
The child did not speak, and simply placed her graceful fingers over Trill’s belly.
“The baby,” whispered Trill.
“It’s in danger Trill.”
Trill felt despair overwhelm her, and she placed both hands over Ella’s protectively, “Is that why I’m dreaming of you? Because I’m going to lose my child?"
“No. You’re dreaming of me because I wish it. Do you want me to help, Trill?”
Blinking away tears, Trill looked at Ella curiously, “How?”
Ella smiled placidly and stroked Trills face.
“Do you want me to help, Trill? Quick now, I’ve not much time left.”
“But, how can you-?”
Ella placed a finger over Trills lips, “Decide.”
“Yes!”
“Good,” sighed Ella, drawing away from Trill gracefully, “I will help.”
“Thank you,” breathed Trill. She wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, but deep inside she felt a comforting warmth.
Ella merely nodded and faded away, leaving Trill alone on the hill again.
“Trill,” intruded a different voice. She recognized it as one of the vault doctors, trying to wake her no doubt. Trill closed her eyes, and when she opened them again she was in a sterile room with a doctor hovering over her nervously.
“Trill?” he repeated as her eyes fluttered open.
“Yes?”
“Ah, you’re awake,” he noted, scribbling something on his clipboard, “How are you feeling?”
She moved her limbs and winced a little, “Sore.”
“Good, that means you’re recovering,” smiled the doctor, “I’ll return in a moment.”
Before he could go, Trill reached out an arm and stopped him.
“Doctor.”
“Yes?”
“My baby…is it…?” she trailed off, dreading the answer. The warmth she had felt in the dream had faded quickly. He frowned at her and looked away.
“We’ll have to do a test to determine that, and you’re hardly in the condition for another test.”
“I need to know…please, it’s important.”
He sighed and nodded, “I understand. Try to get some rest in the mean time, all right? I’ll send someone in.”
She nodded and offered him a weak smile. After a few minutes, a nurse wheeled in a cart and drew the tribal’s blood. She fed it into a few of the various machines on the cart, and they began to hum quietly. Trill rubbed the spot where the blood had been drawn and watched the machines whir, praying her dream had been a good omen. The nurse mad a funny noise and bent to peer at the readouts more closely.
“What is it?” Trill asked, alarmed. She sat up carefully, favoring her broken arm, trying to look over her shoulder.
The nurse glanced at Trills chart, at the readouts, and at the chart again. Without a word to Trill, she hurried out of the room with both the readouts and Trills charts, leaving her alone.
When she returned, the doctor was with her.
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
“Well, Trill,” said the doctor, double and triple checking the readouts himself, “Your baby is just fine.”
“Thank God,” whispered Trill, closing her eyes and smiling.
“True. It’s a miracle it’s still alive…a few hours ago, we were sure you were going to miscarriage.
Trill’s eyes snapped open and she looked at the doctor in disbelief. He shrugged and nodded.
“Can I see Marcus?” she asked softly. The doctor smiled.
“I don’t see why not. You’re obviously recovering nicely.”
As if on cue, a flustered nurse came in, “Doctor, the super mutant demands we let him in.”
“So let him.”
“Eh…yes sir,” she said, casting a surprised glance at Trill. The other nurse gathered up the cart and wheeled it out. Marcus was by her side moments later.
“Are you all right?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the cot. It creaked unhappily under his weight. She leaned against him.
“Now I am.”
He smiled, glanced at the doctor, and turned back to her.
“How’s the-“ Marcus started, ending his sentence by putting his hand gingerly over her belly. She looked up at him and grinned broadly, chasing away any concern that lurked in his green eyes.
“Just fine.”
At that he answered her grin with on of his own and hugged her tightly, but gently, mindful of her arm.
“We can thank Ella for that,” she whispered quietly.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly, “I’ll tell you later.”
“All right. Oh, we found out about Kunshan,” he said. She looked at him with interest.
“Oh? Find out how he survived?”
“Well, he didn’t. He was dead.”
“But…”
“When you were passed out, Goris noticed a box on the back of his neck, with blinking lights and everything.”
Trill nodded, vaguely recalling seeing a box before she had blacked out.
“Seems whatever was in that box was triggered to release this weird stuff into his bloodstream if it didn’t detect a heartbeat. It replaced his blood, I guess…kept him going as though he were a ghoul or something.”
Frowning, Trill hoped they had finally seen that last of him. As though reading her thoughts, Marcus chuckled.
“Well, we won’t have to worry about him anymore. Goris and I had a nice bonfire last night.”
She grinned at this, and looked around him at the doctor, “When can I go?”
“As soon as we decide,” the doctor remarked wryly, adding a few things to her chart before placing it near her bed again. He left before she could ask anything else, leaving the two alone.
Trill lay back on the cot and let out a long, beleaguered sigh. Marcus chuckled.
“Rough day?” he joked, pushing some of her hair away from her face. She rolled her eyes at him
“Think things are finally settling down?”
“We can only hope,” said Marcus.
***
“You don’t ‘spose she’ll snap out of it anytime soon?”
“I sure hope not,” Harold coughed merrily.
Lynette was sitting in a beat up old tire, barking orders to the other ‘vault dwellers’ and muttering about water chips. She hadn’t moved from the spot in days, and only got up to go to the bathroom, or ‘request’ food from the ‘quartermaster’.
“Think we should tell Vault City we got their First Citizen?”
“Nah,” wheezed Harold, “If they want her, I reckon they can come n’ get her.”
“Wooze thinks we should try and get her drunk.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“Good point. Go get him.”
Reveling in her new position as Overseer, Lynette made for one slaphappy drunk.
***
Upon returning to Broken Hills, Trill found herself sitting on a hill that overlooked the town. It was a pleasantly warm day, made so by a nice breeze. She closed her eyes and imagined she was dreaming again, and that Ella was with her.
Had Ella really saved her child? Or had her body merely responded to the dream somehow? Marcus believed that Ella could most definitely be responsible, but she was still doubtful. She supposed she would believe if she carried the baby to term.
Heavy, clomping steps approached her, but she didn’t open her eyes. The owner of the steps settled behind her, and drew her close.
“What are you up too, way up here?” Marcus asked.
“Thinking,” she said, leaning into him, “How’s your shoulder?”
“Just fine.”
“Good.”
“What were you thinking about?”
“The baby.”
Marcus smiled warmly, and turned her to face him, “Everything will be all right.”
The expression on his face was strange, and she couldn’t place it, “Do you promise?”
“Yeah. I promise. Everything will be fine.”
In that moment, she whole-heartedly believed him, with every molecule in her body. Everything would be all right…
She leaned up to his face, and sealed the promise with a kiss.
The two remained on the hill until sunset, confident it was a promise that wouldn’t be broken.
END! Whew, I think I'll go over here and take a nap ::THUD:: Zzzzzz....
-SlinkyAvenger
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SlinkyAvenger@yahoo.com
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Italics are marked in '*'
Dig in and Enjoy
Aftermath, Part 8
“First Citizen?” came a timid voice. Lynette did not look up from her work.
“Didn’t I say I didn’t wish to be disturbed?”
“I…I know, Ma’am, but it’s Counselor Maclure…he…he wishes to speak with you right away!”
Lynette looked up at the servant, who was looking at the floor, and frowned.
“At this hour?”
“Yes Ma’am.”
“About what?”
“He didn’t say, Ma’am.”
“Alright, dismissed.”
The servant bobbed her head, and quickly left the First Citizen alone. Lynette sighed in aggravation and pushed her work aside. She wasn’t in the mood for another one of the Councilman’s lectures. Besides, she smirked to herself, he won’t have much to say once Trill is killed by a vengeful band of mercenaries. She couldn’t wait until they returned with her head.
Now that she thought about it, it had certainly been awhile. Of course, Duegar had assured her that getting the results she wanted would take time.
Getting up from her chair, Lynette walk calmly to Maclure’s office, a faint smirk on her face. When she opened the door, however, her smirk faded instantly.
“Got your message,” Trill said icily.
Lynette stood frozen in the doorway, staring at Trill as though she was a ghost.
The entire council was in the room, sitting around a table, with Trill standing next to Maclure. None of them looked entirely pleased to see the First Citizen.
Lynette tried to recover, “Why…Citizen Trill, what a pleasant sur-“
“Shut up,” snapped Maclure. The force of his voice quickly cut off the nervous woman, and she stared at him with a mixture of shock and fear.
One of the council members, a woman she thought was faithful to her, stood, one hand on the table, “You disgrace Vault City, Lynette.”
Many of the others nodded, while Trill merely stared at the First Citizen, her dark blue eyes piercing Lynette like hot needles.
“What…what are you talking about?” Lynette protested lamely, leaning against the door she had foolishly closed behind her. She felt like an ant under a magnifying glass.
“Don’t patronize us, Lynette. We are all well aware of your actions. Did you think we wouldn’t notice the exorbitant amount of money you withdrew from the treasury?” asked Maclure, leaning forward in his seat and clasping his hands before him.
Lynette felt suddenly sick. Everything she had orchestrated was falling apart, and there was nothing she could do. She tried to return the tribal’s glare, but could hardly meet her burning gaze.
“We, as a council, have come a consensus,” began Maclure. Lynette found that she was feeling dizzy and leaned against the door. This couldn’t be happening. She was the First Citizen! Didn’t she even get to speak her piece? Certainly, she could make them see why she had done what she had!
“Your actions against Citizen Trill are inexcusable. Hiring mercenaries to dispose of a fellow Citizen is interpreted, to us, as an act of aggression towards all Citizens. Violence towards another Citizen is forbidden by Vault law.”
*This can’t be happening, it isn’t happening, soon I’m going to wake up, I just fell asleep at my desk*, Lynette thought, repeating it over and over in her mind. She almost didn’t hear Maclure speaking.
“Vault law makes it clear that those who do not abide by the rules have no place in the vault…”
*Damn you, Trill!* Lynette screamed inwardly, looking at the scowling tribal with intense hatred.
“We, the Vault City council, hereby strip you of your rank and exile you from this Vault. May the Wastes have mercy on your worthless soul.”
The words hit Lynette hard, and she sank numbly to her knees, whispering softly to herself. They all looked at her and shook their heads. How the mighty had fallen.
“No…no this isn’t real,” she said weakly, her voice cracking. She looked up at them, and was met with a collective look of pity. Pity! They pitied her, when it was themselves they should feel sorry for! They, who had begun to accept twisted freaks into the city, they who had considered releasing the servants, a long-standing custom and benefit to those who were serving, because it ‘wasn’t right’!
She barely noticed two guards pick her up and drag her out to the courtyard, hardly felt them shove her roughly outside the gates and throw a beat up knapsack next to her. In fact, she didn’t move for hours. When she finally did, she merely staggered off into the wastes, without so much as a backwards glance.
***
“Well, two visits within a month, this must be my lucky day!” Cassidy said sarcastically, slapping Marcus and Goris on the back.
“Must be,” grinned Marcus.
“So what brings you here, eh? Didn’t think you’d be back for awhile,” said the bartender, wiping down the counter as he spoke.
Marcus frowned, “We had trouble with some mercenaries,” he said, noting Cassidy’s sudden reaction, “What?”
“Didn’t happen to be two men and a woman, did it?”
Startled by his friend’s accuracy, Marcus leaned forward, “Yeah actually…”
“God DAMMIT!”
“What?”
“They were in my bar awhile back…if woulda known, I woulda poisoned their drinks…” Cassidy trailed off, staring glumly at the wall. Goris offered Cassidy a smile.
“Don’t worry about it, Cassidy. It turned out for the better.”
“I ‘spose. So where’s Trill, anyway? She too knocked up to come see Cassidy?” joked the bartender, punching Marcus on the arm good-naturedly. Marcus, however, did not laugh. Goris looked at the floor, hiding a grin that had popped up on his face.
Put off by the sudden change in mood, he snorted and rolled his eyes, “I was kidding Marcus. Honestly, you need to loosen up…”
Marcus just looked at the bartender, until finally a smile began to tug at the corners of his mouth. He started to chuckle.
“There, see? It was funny…okay not that funny! What the hell is wrong with you two!?”
Goris and Marcus were laughing uncontrollably, leaning on each other, while Cassidy gave them both a reproachful look.
“What’s so goddamn funny!?” demanded the bartender, feeling as though he was the butt of some inside joke. Marcus held up a hand, signaling for him to wait until he calmed down. After a few uproarious moments, he managed to get a hold of himself.
“Well?”
The super mutant tried to speak, but as soon as he opened his mouth he started to laugh again, imploring Goris to try with wild hand gestures. Cassidy looked to the Deathclaw murderously.
“This better be fucking great, or I’m gonna kick both your asses.”
“You see Cassidy,” Goris finally managed, his voice halting as he tried to stifle laughter, “Your joke has a ring of truth.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Remember what you just said?”
“About Trill being knocked up? Christ, I was just,” Cassidy paused and his jaw dropped, “joking…”
He looked to Marcus and shook his head, “You horny bastard,” he muttered, disbelief clear on his face. Marcus couldn’t help but grin at the bartender, shrugging helplessly.
“Well I’ll be damned,” he said after a few moments of silence. Goris looked at the expression on Cassidy’s weathered face and tried to hold back another peal of laughter. There wasn’t much that could surprise the grizzled bartender.
“You all right?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I dunno…don’t want you to have a heart attack or anything.”
“Fuck you.”
“Well, I think I’d rather-“
“Don’t even start!”
Cassidy scowled at his friends, but it was obvious his heart wasn’t in it, “You still didn’t answer my question. Where is she?”
“The Vault medical facility.”
“Can you trust them?”
“Now that Lynette is gone, I’m pretty sure we can.”
He nodded in agreement, relishing the fact that he would most likely never see the First Citizens face again. Moments like that made Cassidy ponder the idea of a higher deity.
“Anyway, I’m not sure when she’ll be done.”
“Not soon enough, I’m sure. May as well grab a drink while you’re here, eh?”
***
The former First Citizen of Vault City was dying…slowly.
She was stumbling blindly over the sun scorched earth, walking more on instinct than conscious thought. Her face was blistered and cracked from exposure to the unforgiving sun and equally cruel wastes. Swollen and infected, her left leg dragged lamely underneath her, the result of a close encounter with a Rad Scorpion. The poison spread through her system slowly, making every movement sickening agony.
Through all of this, Lynette grinned cheerfully, her eyes fixed on something on the horizon.
***
“I can’t believe you got drunk again!” scolded Trill, pressing the accelerator pedal of the Highwayman to the floor. Marcus merely snored loudly, while Goris ruined the upholstery of the passenger seat with his claws as he clung to it for dear life.
“I think he fell asleep, Trill,” Goris said thinly, unable to mask his discomfiture with her speed. He watched the odometer dip past the highest marked speed.
Trill turned in her seat to attest for herself that the super mutant was out cold. He was.
“Honestly, you’d think he’d have some sense of responsibility,” growled the tribal, turning to face forward just in time to swerve around a large rock formation, “Whoops, forgot about that one.”
“Maybe if you turned on the headlights you would be able to see better,” Goris practically squeaked. Trill nodded in agreement, and flicked the lights on, illuminating the barren land before them.
“Hope we don’t run over Lynette,” the tribal said under her breath, a rather malicious smile playing over her lips. Seeing the look on her face when the Council had banished her had been priceless, although deep down she felt sorry for the poor woman. She was likely dead by now.
Several far-to-long heart stopping moments later, they arrived in Broken Hills, coming to a stop near Marcus’ with a squeal of tires. Goris tumbled out of the Highwayman eagerly and gratefully planted all four limbs on the solid ground, “Thank the Den Mother,” he whispered.
Trill peered at the now-snoring Marcus in the back, pondered waking him, and decided against it. Ever since he had found out about her pregnancy, she hadn’t been able to get rid of him. At first it had been flattering and welcome, but now…now it was starting to irritate her.
She walked into his house - their house? - and cast a humorous gaze at the trembling Goris. He always seemed to think her driving was dangerous, but she had yet to get in an accident. Yawning, Trill pulled back the covers on Marcus’ - their? - bed and kicked off her shoes, sitting on the edge of it. She was tired, but she had too much on her mind.
With a sigh, she settled into the middle of the large bed and pulled the covers over her head.
When had things gotten so complicated?
“When you left the village,” she answered herself aloud. It was true. She longed for such simplicity again, but at this point, Trill was certain it was nothing but a far-off fantasy.
In reality, she was one of the most loved - and reviled - being in the wastes. She was in a rather odd relationship with a super mutant, and pregnant with his child to boot. Most of all, she was confused. Weren’t hero’s supposed to live happily ever after?
*Some hero*, she thought sourly, *Screwed people for information, ignored others, killed more than those two combined…quite a savior!*
Trill rolled from her back to her stomach -won’t be able to do that soon - and pressed her face in a pillow. She wasn’t going to get any sleep if she kept thinking like that.
Grumbling, the tribal grabbed a pillow to hold, and nestled even deeper into the bed. Eventually, she drifted off into a fitful sleep.
Hours later, Marcus slouched in, hoping she wouldn’t be awake, waiting to berate him for his behavior. She wasn’t, although she had settled into the center of the bed, an obvious sign she hadn’t expected him to come in before she was awake again. Thanks to Cassidy, he was once again in the ‘doghouse’. Hopefully she would be more understanding if she slept on it.
He looked at her for a moment, and frowned. Instead of the usual peaceful look that accompanied her sleep, her brow was furrowed and a frown seemed to be forming on her face. For a moment he thought her eyes were going to open and he was going to be in for a good scolding, but the moment passed just as quickly.
Carefully, he stripped down to his shorts, ignoring the headache that pounded behind his eyes, and slipped into bed next to her. She muttered something in her sleep, and turned over to face him, but nothing more. Smiling, he put his arms around her and slipped quickly into slumber.
**
Marcus awoke with a start, and noticed first that it was quite light outside. He had probably slept through a good portion of the afternoon. The next thing he noticed was that Trill was gone. Thirdly, there was a note in her place.
“A note?” he uttered groggily, reaching for the folded slip of paper. She never left notes.
Marcus-
I went out for a drive, DON’T come looking for me. Back late tonight.
-Trill
He re-read the note a few times, not quite comprehending it. Don’t come looking for her? What was she up too?
Grumbling to himself, the Sheriff quickly pulled on some clothes and opened the bedroom door. Goris looked up at his entrance and nodded, looking quickly back to his current project. The Deathclaw, having long since exhausted all reading material, was attempting to repair a radio. Seeing as most of the tools required to do the job were too small to fit in his clawed digits, it was taking a long time.
“Goris,” said Marcus, causing the Deathclaw to look up again, “Where did Trill go?”
The Deathclaw shrugged, “I asked her the same thing, all I got was ‘out’.”
“Did she take the Highwayman?”
“Of course.”
Marcus swore under his breath and went outside to confirm her absence for himself. Sure enough, where the Highwayman had been were long black skid marks. He felt his stomach tying itself in knots as he looked at them. Trill was gone, and he didn’t know where she was. More importantly, Trill was gone, and if she got into any trouble, he wouldn’t be there to help her.
A clawed hand brushed his arm, and he looked down at Goris, who looked concerned.
“She said she didn’t want to be followed,” said the Deathclaw. Marcus frowned, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Now he was upset. What was going on with her? Although she was indeed privy to odd behavior, she should have more sense than to go out running around in her condition.
“Not like we could follow her,” the super mutant muttered, staring balefully at the horizon. He couldn’t even think of words to describe how he was feeling.
“She’ll be all right, Marcus. She can take care of herself.”
Marcus didn’t reply, and Goris had a feeling he wasn’t listening, anyway. The Deathclaw stood with him for a moment longer, shook his head, and went inside to work on the radio. Marcus did not come in for some time.
***
Foot to the floor, with the accelerator snugly between the two, Trill plowed her way through the vast wasteland, her thoughts a scattered mess of confusion and anger. She really wasn’t sure why she was so angry, but somehow it felt right that she was. Somehow.
She saw something familiar out of the corner of her eye and slammed on the brakes, the car skidding sideways in protest to the drastic change of speed. Carelessly throwing the car into park, she killed the engine and exited the vehicle. As she rounded the car, she stopped dead in her tracks, as though she had been glued to the spot.
It was a cave.
More specifically, the cave Agent Kunshan’s corpse was currently rotting in.
Memories tried to force their way into her consciousness, but she resisted stubbornly, gazing at the mouth of the cave with morbid fascination. Why had she come here, of all places? What had drawn her to this cave?
Slowly, she found herself approaching the cave, not really wanting to reason why. No good could come from gazing at a mad-mans corpse, and still she pressed on. When she reached the gaping maw of the cave, she lingered, anticipating…what? More than likely the stench that would accompany a dead man, but something more…something that made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.
Trill took a halting step into the cave. Then another. No smell assaulted her nostrils, but the intense feeling of dread seemed to increase with each step into the cave, each step that drew closer to the corpse. She felt ridiculous. There was nothing a dead man could do to her. The tribal had watched Goris maul him, watched Kunshan take one last, shuddering breath.
Nevertheless, the feeling persisted, growing worse with each step. She was reminded of when they had found Ella in the alley, but pushed it quickly from her mind. Thinking about Ella wasn’t in her best interest at the moment.
Fumbling with the small pocket of her jumpsuit, she hurriedly brandished a small flashlight, but did not turn it on. She was formulating a plan as she walked. As soon as she reached the end of the cave, she would turn on the flashlight, make certain Kunshan was decomposing properly, and then run like hell. Not the most heroic plan, but it was all she could muster.
Light was almost non-existent at the back of the cave, and she stopped walking. All she could hear was her own breathing, a decidedly eerie sound in the confines of the cave. Even from where she was standing, she could smell only the mustiness of the cave. In another circumstance, it might’ve been comforting, but she would’ve welcomed it now. Anything to distract from the oppressive feeling of fear gnawing at her every nerve.
Slowly, she brought up the flashlight and aimed it where Kunshan’s maimed body would be. She gulped, and looked over her shoulder. Of course, only the light at the mouth of the cave greeted her, but it was waning. Had she really been in the cave that long?
Clenching her teeth behind pursed lips, she reached a shaky hand to the flashlights ‘on’ button, hesitated, and pressed it with a firm ‘click’.
And she screamed.
***
“Goris, it’s getting dark…where is she?”
“Out,” the Deathclaw jested lightly, hoping to cheer up the brooding super mutant. He didn’t.
“She could’ve at least said when she was going to be back.”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” lied the Deathclaw, terribly worried about the tribal himself. It wasn’t like her to leave so abruptly. He had thought she was acting strangely for the past few days, but passed it off on account of her pregnancy. His Deathclaw senses gave him an extra angle on how people were feeling, and Trill had seemed…he didn’t know, he supposed. Perhaps that was the reason he was worried.
Next to him, Marcus sat on the porch and held his face in his hands, rubbing his temples lightly. Days ago, if he had asked, Trill would’ve rubbed his temples with her deft little fingers, and assuaged his headache almost immediately. Now, however, he had no idea where she was, or if she was all right. Was he really that attached to her, that he couldn’t spend a day apart form her?
*Yup*, he thought miserably, shutting his eyes, *I am one pathetic bastard.*
It wasn’t much comfort that the Deathclaw seemed just as unnerved as he was. Goris was an excellent gauge of how serious a situation was. Although he claimed he thought she was fine, he hadn’t worked on his radio for hours. Instead he had joined Marcus in squinting at the horizon for signs of the Highwayman.
“Please,” he whispered to his boots, “Please let her be safe.”
***
“Well, look what the wastes threw up.”
“Is that who I think it is?”
“None other.”
Lynette looked up at the ghouls, the horrific smile on her haggard face somehow growing. In her sun-baked mind, she had found another Vault, and they were taking her in to be the Overseer. She had followed a ‘sign’ pointing to the Vault for days, and finally staggered into Gecko, her shattered body unable to take her any further.
Harold half chuckled, half coughed, and leaned over her, giving her a good-natured kick in the ribs, “Hey, you still alive?”
She nodded weakly. Finally, people who appreciated her.
“So am I, but I’d say you look a helluva lot worse!” chortled the venerable ghoul, breaking down into a violet fit of coughing that threatened to break him apart. Lynette just smiled.
“Think she went nuts? She’s smilin’ awful big.”
“She was already,” choked Harold, “What’re you talkin’ about?”
“Good point. So what are we gonna do with her?”
“I’m sure we can think of somethin’,” muttered Harold, “In the meantime, drag her to my office.”
“You got it.”
Lynette, had she any moisture left in her body, would’ve cried tears of joy.
***
Nothing.
There was nothing there.
Trill searched the back of the cave as though she was possessed, finding nothing. Not even a shred of armor or equipment. He was gone.
*This can’t be happening*, she thought frantically, staring in disbelief at a dried bloodstain on the ground…a stain that should have been covered by a corpse. Of course, anything could’ve happened between the incident and the present. But whatever could have happened, she doubted very much that it would’ve cleared out everything but some ominous bloodstains.
“Corpses don’t get up and walk away!” she screamed at the empty space, her voice echoing madly in cave. Suddenly, she had an overwhelming urge to run, and she gave in, tearing towards the cave exit at a breakneck pace. Deep down she knew she was being irrational, but she couldn’t help it…something was driving her mad.
She tumbled out of the cave and gasped greedily at the fresh air, resting her hands on her knees, head hanging. Out of the cave, she felt increasing calmer -and sillier- with each deep breath. Trill didn’t think the thought of Kunshan still held that much sway over her; apparently she had been wrong. She felt better now, of course.
Finally at ease, she cast a glance back to the cave opening and waved her middle finger at it for good measure. That felt even better.
Trill actually felt a smile spread across her face, and she chuckled a little. She was ready to go home.
It was very dark by the time she settled into the Highwayman and started it up, angling it back towards Broken Hills. She glanced in the rearview mirror and gasped, whirling in her seat. When she turned, she found that the cave was empty…she had sworn she saw someone standing in it.
“Better leave before you lose all your marbles,” she muttered to herself, speeding towards Broken Hills.
Doing her best not to focus on any of the disturbing thoughts that lurked in her mind, she whistled tunelessly and flicked on the headlights. She eventually settled on thinking what to tell Marcus when she got back.
Distracted, she nearly lost control of the Highwayman when the smell hit her. It was the most foul and awful stench she’d ever smelled, and it felt like it was physically assaulting her. Trill slammed on the brakes and tumbled out of the car, gagging. Apparently the smell was unique to the Highwayman…the night air smelled clean.
Coming to grips with the overwhelming nausea, Trill turned to peer into the still-running Highwayman. The door was askew, still swaying slightly, reeling from the violence of her earlier escape. For some reason, the feeling that had crept up on her in the cave was coming back, slinking up her spine. Shaking it off - for the moment - Trill approached the car and felt her pockets for her flashlight. She didn’t find it, and guessed she had probably dropped it after her panic in the cave.
Cursing her actions in the cave, Trill took a deep breath, held it, and stuck her head into the car.
The front bench seats were empty, save assorted odds and ends scattered about the vehicle. She tried to take in every detail, but was unable to hold her breath much longer. As she pulled her head out, she accidentally inhaled a draught of air, sending her into another fit of gagging. Recovering more quickly than the previous occasion.
Trill took a few calming breaths, held one, and reached for the back door.
As it turned out, she didn’t have to open the door.
It opened for her.
This time, Trill’s voice caught in her throat and the world around her seemed to blur and dim. Leering at her from the inside the Highwayman was Agent Kunshan…or what was left of him.
She couldn’t find the words to speak, and took a staggering step backwards. Her knees almost buckled, and she locked them, rooted to the spot. Trill’s body screamed for her to run, but her brain was occupied with other things; mainly, puzzling how a man who was mauled and killed by a Deathclaw months ago could be in the back of her Highwayman.
Kunshan hissed, the sound rattling around in his dry, weathered throat. The skin of his face was stretched tight over his skull, and had rotted off in places. He had a permanent grin on his rotting visage, and his glittering eyes were sunk deep into his skull. Slowly and stiffly, Kunshan wrapped his decaying fingers around the doorframe and pulled himself upright. He was still wearing his shredded combat armor, and cradled the sniper rifle in his free arm.
He stood, swaying slightly on his decomposing legs, his malevolent orbs fixed on hers the entire time.
Trill felt detached from her body, her brain deciding it wanted no part in deciding why a corpse was in her car. She watched numbly as he took a few lurching steps towards her, gripping the battered rifle in his decrepit hands. The smell drifted to her nostrils again, and the gag reflex snapped her back to what she assumed was reality.
“Mutant,” wheezed Kunshan, prying a hand of his rifle and pointing at her accusingly.
Finally tearing her eyes away from the monstrosity, Trill’s eyes flicked to the trunk, where she had packed her gauss rifle. The thing that was apparently Kunshan didn’t look like it could move very fast, but she knew that assumptions like that could be the last ones she ever made. Perhaps she could lure him away, and then make a break for it?
“H-how?” she managed to stutter, carefully taking steps backwards. Her original question had been a bit longer, but she assumed she got her point across. A terrible sound emitted from Kunshan, and she identified it a few moments later as laughter. However, he did not answer.
Trill steadily gave ground to the Agent, hoping her incredibly simple plan worked. Kunshan did not increase or decrease his speed, and merely hobbled after her, eyes fixed on his target.
Her mind raced as she led him further away from the car. How could he be here? How was it even possible? He practically looked like a ghoul his body was so decrepit, but she had seen him die!
“Can’t run forever,” the supposedly dead Agent giggled, his wrinkled tongue lolling out between his teeth. Trill chose not to respond, and glanced over her shoulder. The last thing she needed to do was trip and fall.
Satisfied that she could dart around him, Trill stopped backing up and stood her ground. The Agent approached a few more steps, and stopped just close enough for her to smell the odor he was emanating.
“Sneaky sneaky,” cackled the abomination, bringing the rifle up into a firing position. Trill resisted the urge to flee until his bony finger was hovering over the trigger. Just as he went to fire, she dropped to the ground and rolled sideways, and sprang to her feet. She tore towards the highwayman as a sharp report echoed across the barren plain.
Kunshan roared angrily, his enraged cry sounding decidedly inhuman to Trill’s ears.
Reaching the Highwayman, she skidded to stop and fumbled with the trunk. Chancing a look at her assailant, she found, much to her dismay, that he was indeed moving faster. Much faster.
The lid clunked open and she blessed herself for setting the rifle on top of all the other junk she had inside. Grabbing it, and an extra clip of ammo for good measure, she slammed it shut and whirled to face Kunshan.
He had disappeared.
Trill swung around madly, her finger ready squeeze the trigger in response to any movement. Anxious, she climbed on top of the Highwayman, and looked around nervously. The car sat low on its chassis, so he couldn’t of gotten underneath it. Wouldn’t she have noticed if he had entered the car?
Nervous, she tried to look everywhere at once, hoping to catch any ambushes he might try to spring. Seconds turned to minutes, and she was beginning to think that she had hallucinated the whole thing. Confused and frightened, she made one last sweep with her eyes, and made to dismount the vehicle.
The Highwayman’s engine roared to life and lurched forward, and Trill gripped the slick metal surface desperately, pining the gauss rifle between her body and the car. The spare clip skittered off onto the ground.
As the vehicle swerved madly and accelerated, Trill tried to attain a less precarious position. Kunshan, who she assumed was driving the car, did his best to prevent this, turning so sharply she feared the Highwayman might flip over.
Slowly, the rifle held fast under one of her arms, Trill pulled herself towards the front of the car, wind whipping through her hair and stinging her eyes.
He swerved just as she was reaching a hand for the top of the windshield, and she cried out in distress, clinging to the vehicle for dear life. As it was, she slid over towards the driver’s side, her left leg dangling over the side of the car. For a few perilous moments she was sure she was going to slide off, but somehow she managed to pull herself back on.
After a few more deft turns designed to throw her, Kunshan turned the car and started driving in a straight line, picking up speed as he did so. Trill didn’t doubt that his foot was flat against the floorboards.
Struggling forwards again, the wind created by the cars velocity pushing at her, she chanced a glance up, to see what he was up to. On the horizon were the lights of a town…Broken Hills.
He was heading straight for it.
Knowing she had to act fast, Trill shifted her rifle into one of her hands. Broken Hills grew closer and closer with each breath she took. Trill held the rifle by the muzzle and slammed the stock of it into the driver’s side window, shattering the ancient glass. She leaned dangerously into the window and grabbed for the wheel, noting that Agent Kunshan was indeed steering the vehicle. He snarled at her as she caused the Highwayman to lurch and lose speed. However, she had not diverted him entirely from Broken Hills.
Kunshan tried to ignore her, and careened towards the mining settlement. Determined, Trill brought the stock back, and then heaved it into the Agents head with all the strength she could muster. Not expecting her attack, the Agent howled in pain, letting go of the wheel for a moment.
Seizing her chance, Trill yanked the wheel as far as it would go. This time, physics was not on her side. Even as she yanked it, she knew that had yanked it too far.
Time seemed to slow down as she desperately leapt from the doomed vehicle. As she pushed herself away from the turning car, she prayed it wouldn’t roll onto her. Trill hit the ground with a sickening crunch, and pain soared through every nerve in her body.
Absently she heard shattering glass and warping metal, but she didn’t think much of it…she was too busy reeling in pain. Her thoughts went instantly to the life in her womb. Wouldn’t such an injury endanger it?
Metal-clad feet crunched awkwardly towards her, and she tried to move, without success. Any movement caused her intense pain. The terrible stench that clung to Kunshan invaded her senses, and she gagged, struggling against the blinding pain to get away.
“Sneaky bitch,” the foul man hissed in her ear, grabbing her hair. Trill screamed in agony as he lifted her up by it roughly. Through her hazy vision, she found herself face to face with him. His breath was hot and fetid against her skin, and she felt an overpowering urge to vomit.
This time she did not resist the urge, and Kunshan’s face covered in bile. He released his grip on her hair in surprise, and quickly went to wipe it from his eyes.
Trill took in shuddering, sobbing breaths and dragged herself slowly away from the mad man. She could see the Highwayman out of the corner of her eye, and hoped it was repairable. Her eyes were fixed on Broken Hills. On the Highwayman it had seemed close, but it never looked so far away to her now. She imagined she could see people scurrying around in under the lights, coming to help her.
A hand closed around her ankle and dragged her backwards fiercely, scraping her against the gravelly ground.
“You won’t get away this time,” grated Kunshan, yanking her up by her hair again.
“F-fuck you!” Trill managed to gasp. He chuckled at her dryly.
Half dragging, her, Kunshan went to inspect the Highwayman.
“If my rifle is damaged in anyway,” he noted, “I’ll evcirate you with my bare hands.”
Trill was losing her grasp of the situation quickly, and tried to run through her options. She could only think of one.
“HELP!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, struggling lamely in Kunshan’s iron grip. He ignored her, sifting through broken glass and various objects that had fallen from the car. Trill screamed continuously, wondering if her voice carried, or was just taken away with the wind, never to be heard.
She screamed herself hoarse very quickly, and she feared that Kunshan was starting to give up hope of finding his rifle. Her time was running out.
Voices drifted to her ears, and she strained to hear where they were coming from, to identify the voices. Kunshan apparently heard them as well, and he turned towards the sound.
“Oh look,” he sneered, “your little friends are coming to help.”
Trill felt relief wash through her despite the situation, and relaxed slightly in Kunshan’s grip. Thankfully, she had grown used to the sickening smell. As both she and Kunshan waited for the approaching group, she heard something she hadn’t before. A low beeping noise seemed to be emanating from the Agent. Curious, she tried to get a better look, but his grip on her hair prevented any such movement.
“Trill!?” came Marcus’ voice. She never thought she would be so relieved to hear him.
“Marcus!” she croaked, somehow squeezing sound out of her haggard throat. Her heart soared, and for the first time since the cave, she felt hope.
The Sheriff’s hurried steps crunched quickly over the ground, followed by the stealthy, almost soundless steps of Goris. Kunshan made a triumphant sound, and yanked his rifle from a pile of rubble, quickly pressing it to Trill’s head and backing away from the Highwayman.
Marcus and Goris came around the Highwayman and froze in their spots, stunned.
“What the hell is that?” Marcus muttered to himself, an expression of horror on his face. Goris looked as though he might be sick, and Trill guessed his Deathclaw olfactory senses were in overload.
“I’m glad we’re all here,” wheezed Kunshan, getting a better grip on Trill. She made a distressed noise in protest, but couldn’t muster the strength to struggle.
“Let her go,” Marcus said flatly, all emotion gone from his voice. Goris glanced at him in alarm, and noticed that the super mutant was practically shaking with rage. Kunshan found his statement amusing and chuckled nastily.
“I’ll let her go all right…straight to hell! I want her to suffer first, however,” he growled, “Put down your weapon.”
Marcus clenched the mini-gun tightly in his hands, obviously less than pleased with the idea. Kunshan pressed the muzzle hard into her head, causing Trill to whimper softly. Marcus dropped the gun, and kicked it away.
Kunshan leveled the gun at Marcus for a moment, and then swung it to Goris, “I think you’re more deserving, considering,” noted the ghoulish Agent. Disdainfully, he heaved Trill onto the ground, and clutched the rifle with both hands.
Trill looked up at him groggily, fighting of unconsciousness, and finally pinpointed the beeping sounds from earlier. There was a small box near the back of his neck, with tiny blinking lights on it. She hadn’t noticed it before, mostly because the lights hadn’t been on. Did that have to do with anything?
Goris stared down the barrel of the sniper rifle with increasing dread. No one was going to swoop in and save him, that much was certain. He was tough, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t survive a bullet to anything vital at this range.
“See you in hell,” gurgled Kunshan, pulling the trigger. He cried out just before he fired, losing his aim. The shot went wild and caromed off the derelict Highwayman.
“Sneaking bitch!” snarled Kunshan. Trill had managed to heave herself into him, and way lying prone at his feet. She managed to spit at him and prepared for the worst.
Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Marcus and Goris crept forward until he swung the rifle up again.
“That’s far enough,” he said coldly, “Your time is up.”
He put a foot onto Trill and pressed down hard, and she gritted her teeth, fighting not to cry out or pass out. Then he leveled the rifle at Goris and pulled the trigger.
Trill watched in horror as Marcus leapt into action, pushing the Deathclaw out of harms way. Unfortunately, he wasn’t agile enough to leap out of the way himself, and it struck him squarely in the shoulder, throwing him back. Unable to withstand any more stimulus, Trill blacked out.
Goris roared in protest when Marcus threw him out of the way, watching in horror as the sniper round pierced through his shoulder armor and knocked him down. What was he thinking? Deciding he didn’t have time to dwell on the question, Goris charged the foul smelling creature with all the speed he could muster. As he charged, he tried to pinpoint were the bizarre beeping was coming from. He had heard it when they had come upon the Agent, and it was bothering him a great deal.
Kunshan was recovering from the rifles recoil when he noticed Goris bearing down on him, and for the first time a bit of doubt manifested in his dead blue eyes. He swung the rifle at the Deathclaw, and Goris leapt to the side with frightening speed, forcing him to readjust aim again. Goris moved again, but instead of re-adjusting, Kunshan pointed the rifle down to where Trill was passed out.
The Deathclaw looked on in horror, pushing his body to go beyond its limits, wishing he had wings.
Suddenly, Marcus, howling Trills name like a war cry, barreled into the Agent, knocking him down with an unpleasant snapping noise.
Goris skidded to halt as Marcus did his best to wrestle the sniper rifle from Kunshan’s death grip. The scholar carefully moved Trill away from the scuffle and turned to join Marcus when he was sure she was still alive.
He noticed just in time the rifle was shakily pointing in his direction and leapt aside just as it went off.
“You can’t kill me!” wailed Kunshan, struggling against Marcus’ crushing weight.
“Watch me,” hissed Marcus, twisting the decaying wrist until it snapped audibly, essentially freeing it from the Agents grasp. Goris quickly snatched it and disabled the weapon.
“Hold him, Marcus,” Goris said, determined to find the source of the beeping on Kunshan’s person. Eager to kill him, Marcus grudgingly obliged.
“How’s your shoulder?” the Deathclaw asked as he searched. Marcus grimaced.
“It’s been better.”
“Lift him up a bit.”
Kunshan struggled and protested violently, but found that Marcus wasn’t in the mood for his antics. Goris peered underneath the Agent, and quickly noticed the blinking lights.
“I think I’ve found something…”
“Oh?”
Goris reached for the box, and had just touched it when Kunshan began to wail plaintively.
“No! Don’t touch the box! Do anything you want, but leave it alone!” he squealed, a panicked look on his rotted face.
“Why not?”
“DON’T TOUCH IT!”
The Deathclaw met eyes with Marcus for a moment, nodded, and yanked the box off. It was harder to remove than he first thought, and spray of fluid erupted from it. Surprised, Marcus jumped back from the spray, allowing Kunshan a precious moment of escape. Instead of running for it, however, the Agent leapt madly at Goris, grabbing for the leaking box.
Goris fended him off easily, and threw him backwards, “What do you want the box for?”
Even in the dim moonlight, Kunshan seemed to be loosing strength. He didn’t even recover from Goris’ shove. Instead, he started to drag himself to a puddle of the thick fluid and tried to stuff it in his mouth, dirt and all. As they watched, he started to slow down, growing stiffer and more corpse-like with every second that passed. Soon, he took one last rattling breath and went still, his eyes staring at the box longingly.
“What the *fuck* just happened?”
“Well, I assume it had to do with this,” observed Goris, turning the box over in his hands, “I suppose we ought to take this to Vault City tomorrow.”
Marcus hadn’t stayed to listen to the Deathclaws answer, however. He was at Trills side, carefully gathering her up in his arms. She moaned softly, but did not stir.
From the looks of her, she had taken a nasty fall. Considering the Highwayman was a mess, he gathered she had leapt from the car. Her suit was shredded in bloody in a few places, and it looked like she had broken a good portion of her arm. Of course, he’d seen worse, but he still felt a tinge of fear not only for her, but also for their child. The pregnancy was chancy at best, she’d told him…anything extreme could put it jeopardy.
He turned to Goris who simply nodded to him and grabbed Kunshan’s body. Together, they headed for Broken Hills.
Kunshan’s body burned long into the night.
***
Trill dreamed.
In her dream, she was back in Broken Hills, sitting on a hill overlooking the town. It was a warm day, with a pleasant breeze. She was at peace, her eyes closed.
Soft, warm fingers caressed her face, and she opened her eyes to see who it was.
“Ella.”
“Yes,” agreed Ella, smiling. She was a child again, but her hair was smooth and full, her body sleek and healthy.
“I thought you were gone?”
Ella shook her head, “Never gone. Just not where you could see me, Trill.”
“Why are you in my dreams?”
The child did not speak, and simply placed her graceful fingers over Trill’s belly.
“The baby,” whispered Trill.
“It’s in danger Trill.”
Trill felt despair overwhelm her, and she placed both hands over Ella’s protectively, “Is that why I’m dreaming of you? Because I’m going to lose my child?"
“No. You’re dreaming of me because I wish it. Do you want me to help, Trill?”
Blinking away tears, Trill looked at Ella curiously, “How?”
Ella smiled placidly and stroked Trills face.
“Do you want me to help, Trill? Quick now, I’ve not much time left.”
“But, how can you-?”
Ella placed a finger over Trills lips, “Decide.”
“Yes!”
“Good,” sighed Ella, drawing away from Trill gracefully, “I will help.”
“Thank you,” breathed Trill. She wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, but deep inside she felt a comforting warmth.
Ella merely nodded and faded away, leaving Trill alone on the hill again.
“Trill,” intruded a different voice. She recognized it as one of the vault doctors, trying to wake her no doubt. Trill closed her eyes, and when she opened them again she was in a sterile room with a doctor hovering over her nervously.
“Trill?” he repeated as her eyes fluttered open.
“Yes?”
“Ah, you’re awake,” he noted, scribbling something on his clipboard, “How are you feeling?”
She moved her limbs and winced a little, “Sore.”
“Good, that means you’re recovering,” smiled the doctor, “I’ll return in a moment.”
Before he could go, Trill reached out an arm and stopped him.
“Doctor.”
“Yes?”
“My baby…is it…?” she trailed off, dreading the answer. The warmth she had felt in the dream had faded quickly. He frowned at her and looked away.
“We’ll have to do a test to determine that, and you’re hardly in the condition for another test.”
“I need to know…please, it’s important.”
He sighed and nodded, “I understand. Try to get some rest in the mean time, all right? I’ll send someone in.”
She nodded and offered him a weak smile. After a few minutes, a nurse wheeled in a cart and drew the tribal’s blood. She fed it into a few of the various machines on the cart, and they began to hum quietly. Trill rubbed the spot where the blood had been drawn and watched the machines whir, praying her dream had been a good omen. The nurse mad a funny noise and bent to peer at the readouts more closely.
“What is it?” Trill asked, alarmed. She sat up carefully, favoring her broken arm, trying to look over her shoulder.
The nurse glanced at Trills chart, at the readouts, and at the chart again. Without a word to Trill, she hurried out of the room with both the readouts and Trills charts, leaving her alone.
When she returned, the doctor was with her.
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
“Well, Trill,” said the doctor, double and triple checking the readouts himself, “Your baby is just fine.”
“Thank God,” whispered Trill, closing her eyes and smiling.
“True. It’s a miracle it’s still alive…a few hours ago, we were sure you were going to miscarriage.
Trill’s eyes snapped open and she looked at the doctor in disbelief. He shrugged and nodded.
“Can I see Marcus?” she asked softly. The doctor smiled.
“I don’t see why not. You’re obviously recovering nicely.”
As if on cue, a flustered nurse came in, “Doctor, the super mutant demands we let him in.”
“So let him.”
“Eh…yes sir,” she said, casting a surprised glance at Trill. The other nurse gathered up the cart and wheeled it out. Marcus was by her side moments later.
“Are you all right?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the cot. It creaked unhappily under his weight. She leaned against him.
“Now I am.”
He smiled, glanced at the doctor, and turned back to her.
“How’s the-“ Marcus started, ending his sentence by putting his hand gingerly over her belly. She looked up at him and grinned broadly, chasing away any concern that lurked in his green eyes.
“Just fine.”
At that he answered her grin with on of his own and hugged her tightly, but gently, mindful of her arm.
“We can thank Ella for that,” she whispered quietly.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly, “I’ll tell you later.”
“All right. Oh, we found out about Kunshan,” he said. She looked at him with interest.
“Oh? Find out how he survived?”
“Well, he didn’t. He was dead.”
“But…”
“When you were passed out, Goris noticed a box on the back of his neck, with blinking lights and everything.”
Trill nodded, vaguely recalling seeing a box before she had blacked out.
“Seems whatever was in that box was triggered to release this weird stuff into his bloodstream if it didn’t detect a heartbeat. It replaced his blood, I guess…kept him going as though he were a ghoul or something.”
Frowning, Trill hoped they had finally seen that last of him. As though reading her thoughts, Marcus chuckled.
“Well, we won’t have to worry about him anymore. Goris and I had a nice bonfire last night.”
She grinned at this, and looked around him at the doctor, “When can I go?”
“As soon as we decide,” the doctor remarked wryly, adding a few things to her chart before placing it near her bed again. He left before she could ask anything else, leaving the two alone.
Trill lay back on the cot and let out a long, beleaguered sigh. Marcus chuckled.
“Rough day?” he joked, pushing some of her hair away from her face. She rolled her eyes at him
“Think things are finally settling down?”
“We can only hope,” said Marcus.
***
“You don’t ‘spose she’ll snap out of it anytime soon?”
“I sure hope not,” Harold coughed merrily.
Lynette was sitting in a beat up old tire, barking orders to the other ‘vault dwellers’ and muttering about water chips. She hadn’t moved from the spot in days, and only got up to go to the bathroom, or ‘request’ food from the ‘quartermaster’.
“Think we should tell Vault City we got their First Citizen?”
“Nah,” wheezed Harold, “If they want her, I reckon they can come n’ get her.”
“Wooze thinks we should try and get her drunk.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“Good point. Go get him.”
Reveling in her new position as Overseer, Lynette made for one slaphappy drunk.
***
Upon returning to Broken Hills, Trill found herself sitting on a hill that overlooked the town. It was a pleasantly warm day, made so by a nice breeze. She closed her eyes and imagined she was dreaming again, and that Ella was with her.
Had Ella really saved her child? Or had her body merely responded to the dream somehow? Marcus believed that Ella could most definitely be responsible, but she was still doubtful. She supposed she would believe if she carried the baby to term.
Heavy, clomping steps approached her, but she didn’t open her eyes. The owner of the steps settled behind her, and drew her close.
“What are you up too, way up here?” Marcus asked.
“Thinking,” she said, leaning into him, “How’s your shoulder?”
“Just fine.”
“Good.”
“What were you thinking about?”
“The baby.”
Marcus smiled warmly, and turned her to face him, “Everything will be all right.”
The expression on his face was strange, and she couldn’t place it, “Do you promise?”
“Yeah. I promise. Everything will be fine.”
In that moment, she whole-heartedly believed him, with every molecule in her body. Everything would be all right…
She leaned up to his face, and sealed the promise with a kiss.
The two remained on the hill until sunset, confident it was a promise that wouldn’t be broken.
END! Whew, I think I'll go over here and take a nap ::THUD:: Zzzzzz....
-SlinkyAvenger
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SlinkyAvenger@yahoo.com
http://slinkyavenger.iwarp.com
. You truly have pulled out all the stops and made everyone I can possibly think of extremely proud that you post your Fic here for us to gaze upon. Thanks Slinky! I can't wait to see what you'll do next!
