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BEYOND THE GLOW - chapter 2
They used the whole night to walk. Soon the Hub was totally gone in the horizon. Nobody said a word.
Jobe didn't get tired, he was fully awake after his bar nap. Besides, he felt a bit buzzed, like he had taken mentats or something. He didn't know if that was a good sign.
They had taken away all his equips right after they left the Hub. One of the men carried Jobe's backpack and another one his gun. He had wandered the wastes before, so he assumed they would walk until noon, when the heat became so intense they had to rest. He decided to wait with all his questions until then.
The sun rose higher, and Jobe was right. When the sun was nearing top, a towering, black man, apparently the leader of the group, ordered the party to stop using hand gestures. The men started setting up camp.
Now or never, Jobe thought.
"What the hell is this all about?" he exploded. "Who the hell are you people?"
The black man turned to face him. He was at least five inches taller than Jobe. His face was hard as stone, not even a bead of sweat glistened in the sun. Jobe suddenly noticed something about the man's face color. It didn't look like any of the black people he had seen before, it was... red-brown, like the mountains, or like a radscorpion.
The face of the man was heavily scarred and partially covered by his helmet, but there was something weird about his face too, Jobe thought. It was... it was like nothing Jobe had ever seen before, but it wasn't really that strange. At least the man wasn't a mutant, that was clear.
Jobe looked around. The rest of the men around him also carried this strange complexion. Some of them could from far look like whites, but they too had that tint of red in their faces. It couldn't just be sunburn, either. It sat much too deep in their skin. Maybe radiation? But they didn't have any other signs of exposure. Maybe...
The voice behind him snapped him back. He turned around again.
"You come with us. We'll go home now."
The leader spoke in a strange accent, almost like people from the far east, only even weirder.
"Yeah, but what-" Jobe tried. His frustration levels were building up with every second that passed.
There was no more meaningful conversation, as one of the men ran up to the leader and started talking with him in an odd language. Jobe didn't understand much of what they said, but they seemed to be arguing about something. Then the man pointed outwards in the wastes. Jobe followed his finger and saw some large orange shapes that couldn't be anything but deathclaws.
Jobe sweated uncontrollably. Here he was, in the middle of nowhere, with these lunatics all around him, with no guns, and now he was attacked by deathclaws. It made him want to laugh out loud, shoot someone and cry at the same time.
"You're on our side now, warrior." the leader said calmly.
"What? You want to FIGHT these monsters?" he replied, in reality more confused that the leader had talked to him in a somewhat "normal" manner than over the fact that they wanted combat with deathclaws.
"Great Hand no harm to brave warriors." the leader said.
The man who had been carrying Jobe's gun threw it to him. Jobe catched it in one hand. It gave him a sense of safety to feel the hot steel between his fingers again.
"Hey, i'll need my ammo pack too." he said to the leader. "Not that a shotgun'll be much use against a pack of deathclaws." he added on grimly.
The leader gave an unintelligible order to one of his men and Jobe got back his pack. He reloaded his two-barrel without much conviction.
He looked towards the deathclaws and counted them. Five in number, fifty in power, he thought, suddenly switched in on an old children's song. He gave off a slight gulp.
He was surprised as he noticed how close they were, at least not more than a couple thousand feet. He couldn't make out their heading, it seemed like the pack stood still at the moment. He knew that deathclaws had extreme senses and it was strange to him that they still hadn't noticed his party, glaring as it was.
Better prepare for combat, he thought. Doesn't seem like these red-heads have given much thought to the retreat option. And no way if i'll find back to the Hub alone.
His tactical mind immediately began analyzing the situation. Let's see, we have five deathclaws versus seven, eight, nine humans. They apparently haven't noticed us yet. In reality we don't have a chance at all, so a front strike would be useless. The best (but definitely not good) approach would be to have someone sneak around those hills, and try to surround them.
All strategic thoughts were suddenly splintered as one of the red-heads pointed his gun to the skies. Jobe shaked his head in despair, as a yellow flash followed by a loud bang made the deathclaws down there immediately turn their oversized heads towards the party.
No. It can't be true, Jobe thought.
The five deathclaws started running towards them. Eight ninths of the party pulled up their guns. Jobe stood perfectly still with his mouth wide open.
"But we have to pr-prepare!" Jobe yelled panicking, his arms waving wildly, as the beasts came closer and closer. "We can-can't look at their eyes! They can't be killed!"
The leader looked surprised at him. Then he laughed. He tapped his gun and looked with calm eyes at Jobe.
"You're insane!" Jobe yelled. But he threw a glance at the leader's gun.
On first look it seemed like a perfectly ordinary single-barrel rifle. But then he noticed all sorts of wiring and strange electronics on it. He had never seen a weapon like this before. This made him just a teeny bit less panicked.
He threw a spasmodic look around and saw that the rest of the men also carried weapons unknown to him. Some were the shape of small pistols, others were more rifle-sized.
The man who had fired the shotgun previously, a pretty bulky person, was now struggling with getting off his huge leather backpack.
After a few seconds the man succeded, and dropped the backpack on the ground. The deathclaws were now so close Jobe could clearly see their bug-eyed, constantly angry-looking faces. The man started pulling something big and black out of his pack. Jobe couldn't at first see what it was, but then he remembered. He unintentionally took a deep breath.
The brotherhood guy Jobe had pissed off had carried that kind of weapon.
The man had pulled the gun completely out of his pack. Jobe could remember what the Knight had called his gun. Mi-ni-gun. He had seen brotherhood knights shred whole packs of raiders with just one burst of that gun. He felt somewhat relieved. At least they had a chance.
But there was something weird about this gun too, Jobe thought. Like everything that had happened this day there was something weird with it. It had all this circuitry on it, like all the other weapons around Jobe. He wondered what that could be good for.
Then the deathclaws were over them.
Jobe couldn't do much but watch as the biggest deathclaw lunged forward against the leader of the party. It all seemed to happen in slow motion, yet it happened so fast.
He could see the slight protrude of muscle in the leader's rock colored arm as he squeezed the trigger of the strange-looking rifle.
He could see the change of expression on the deathclaw's face as a red light erupted at the muzzle of the leader's gun and some invisible force tore straight through the tough hide.
He could hear the inhuman shriek of the beast as the leader turned his weapon from side to side, up and down.
He could see the crimson blood flow as the deathclaw's body slowly split into pieces.
He could see the face and torso of the leader become bathed in red.
He could see the rest of the deathclaw's body fall towards the leader. He could see the leader trying to jump out of the way. He could see that it was too late.
He could see the blood stained five inch claws of the dead beast touch the leader's unprotected neck. He could see the two hundred pound torso drill the claws into the soft skin. He could see the dead leader fall towards the ground.
He could hear a growl at his side. He barely managed to turn around to see an orange shape in flight towards him.
He could feel a sharp pain in his lower stomach. Then, only darkness.
They used the whole night to walk. Soon the Hub was totally gone in the horizon. Nobody said a word.
Jobe didn't get tired, he was fully awake after his bar nap. Besides, he felt a bit buzzed, like he had taken mentats or something. He didn't know if that was a good sign.
They had taken away all his equips right after they left the Hub. One of the men carried Jobe's backpack and another one his gun. He had wandered the wastes before, so he assumed they would walk until noon, when the heat became so intense they had to rest. He decided to wait with all his questions until then.
The sun rose higher, and Jobe was right. When the sun was nearing top, a towering, black man, apparently the leader of the group, ordered the party to stop using hand gestures. The men started setting up camp.
Now or never, Jobe thought.
"What the hell is this all about?" he exploded. "Who the hell are you people?"
The black man turned to face him. He was at least five inches taller than Jobe. His face was hard as stone, not even a bead of sweat glistened in the sun. Jobe suddenly noticed something about the man's face color. It didn't look like any of the black people he had seen before, it was... red-brown, like the mountains, or like a radscorpion.
The face of the man was heavily scarred and partially covered by his helmet, but there was something weird about his face too, Jobe thought. It was... it was like nothing Jobe had ever seen before, but it wasn't really that strange. At least the man wasn't a mutant, that was clear.
Jobe looked around. The rest of the men around him also carried this strange complexion. Some of them could from far look like whites, but they too had that tint of red in their faces. It couldn't just be sunburn, either. It sat much too deep in their skin. Maybe radiation? But they didn't have any other signs of exposure. Maybe...
The voice behind him snapped him back. He turned around again.
"You come with us. We'll go home now."
The leader spoke in a strange accent, almost like people from the far east, only even weirder.
"Yeah, but what-" Jobe tried. His frustration levels were building up with every second that passed.
There was no more meaningful conversation, as one of the men ran up to the leader and started talking with him in an odd language. Jobe didn't understand much of what they said, but they seemed to be arguing about something. Then the man pointed outwards in the wastes. Jobe followed his finger and saw some large orange shapes that couldn't be anything but deathclaws.
Jobe sweated uncontrollably. Here he was, in the middle of nowhere, with these lunatics all around him, with no guns, and now he was attacked by deathclaws. It made him want to laugh out loud, shoot someone and cry at the same time.
"You're on our side now, warrior." the leader said calmly.
"What? You want to FIGHT these monsters?" he replied, in reality more confused that the leader had talked to him in a somewhat "normal" manner than over the fact that they wanted combat with deathclaws.
"Great Hand no harm to brave warriors." the leader said.
The man who had been carrying Jobe's gun threw it to him. Jobe catched it in one hand. It gave him a sense of safety to feel the hot steel between his fingers again.
"Hey, i'll need my ammo pack too." he said to the leader. "Not that a shotgun'll be much use against a pack of deathclaws." he added on grimly.
The leader gave an unintelligible order to one of his men and Jobe got back his pack. He reloaded his two-barrel without much conviction.
He looked towards the deathclaws and counted them. Five in number, fifty in power, he thought, suddenly switched in on an old children's song. He gave off a slight gulp.
He was surprised as he noticed how close they were, at least not more than a couple thousand feet. He couldn't make out their heading, it seemed like the pack stood still at the moment. He knew that deathclaws had extreme senses and it was strange to him that they still hadn't noticed his party, glaring as it was.
Better prepare for combat, he thought. Doesn't seem like these red-heads have given much thought to the retreat option. And no way if i'll find back to the Hub alone.
His tactical mind immediately began analyzing the situation. Let's see, we have five deathclaws versus seven, eight, nine humans. They apparently haven't noticed us yet. In reality we don't have a chance at all, so a front strike would be useless. The best (but definitely not good) approach would be to have someone sneak around those hills, and try to surround them.
All strategic thoughts were suddenly splintered as one of the red-heads pointed his gun to the skies. Jobe shaked his head in despair, as a yellow flash followed by a loud bang made the deathclaws down there immediately turn their oversized heads towards the party.
No. It can't be true, Jobe thought.
The five deathclaws started running towards them. Eight ninths of the party pulled up their guns. Jobe stood perfectly still with his mouth wide open.
"But we have to pr-prepare!" Jobe yelled panicking, his arms waving wildly, as the beasts came closer and closer. "We can-can't look at their eyes! They can't be killed!"
The leader looked surprised at him. Then he laughed. He tapped his gun and looked with calm eyes at Jobe.
"You're insane!" Jobe yelled. But he threw a glance at the leader's gun.
On first look it seemed like a perfectly ordinary single-barrel rifle. But then he noticed all sorts of wiring and strange electronics on it. He had never seen a weapon like this before. This made him just a teeny bit less panicked.
He threw a spasmodic look around and saw that the rest of the men also carried weapons unknown to him. Some were the shape of small pistols, others were more rifle-sized.
The man who had fired the shotgun previously, a pretty bulky person, was now struggling with getting off his huge leather backpack.
After a few seconds the man succeded, and dropped the backpack on the ground. The deathclaws were now so close Jobe could clearly see their bug-eyed, constantly angry-looking faces. The man started pulling something big and black out of his pack. Jobe couldn't at first see what it was, but then he remembered. He unintentionally took a deep breath.
The brotherhood guy Jobe had pissed off had carried that kind of weapon.
The man had pulled the gun completely out of his pack. Jobe could remember what the Knight had called his gun. Mi-ni-gun. He had seen brotherhood knights shred whole packs of raiders with just one burst of that gun. He felt somewhat relieved. At least they had a chance.
But there was something weird about this gun too, Jobe thought. Like everything that had happened this day there was something weird with it. It had all this circuitry on it, like all the other weapons around Jobe. He wondered what that could be good for.
Then the deathclaws were over them.
Jobe couldn't do much but watch as the biggest deathclaw lunged forward against the leader of the party. It all seemed to happen in slow motion, yet it happened so fast.
He could see the slight protrude of muscle in the leader's rock colored arm as he squeezed the trigger of the strange-looking rifle.
He could see the change of expression on the deathclaw's face as a red light erupted at the muzzle of the leader's gun and some invisible force tore straight through the tough hide.
He could hear the inhuman shriek of the beast as the leader turned his weapon from side to side, up and down.
He could see the crimson blood flow as the deathclaw's body slowly split into pieces.
He could see the face and torso of the leader become bathed in red.
He could see the rest of the deathclaw's body fall towards the leader. He could see the leader trying to jump out of the way. He could see that it was too late.
He could see the blood stained five inch claws of the dead beast touch the leader's unprotected neck. He could see the two hundred pound torso drill the claws into the soft skin. He could see the dead leader fall towards the ground.
He could hear a growl at his side. He barely managed to turn around to see an orange shape in flight towards him.
He could feel a sharp pain in his lower stomach. Then, only darkness.
