OOC- Alright folks, back on track. Hopefully, we'll keep this monster alive long enough to bury it wiht a proper ending. I'm kinda worried because we haven't heard from roguehex in awhile (nor have you heard from me either, so I suppose that is excusable).
IC-
The ghoul's offer was tempting. Hell, it was damn tempting, considering that there were a group of vicious raiders coming for Caleb's blood. The Blade thought long and hard on his next move.
"Come on, now, you cussed hummies!" wailed the ghoul, throwing his hands panickingly into the air. His eyes shone with fear. "Make up your blasted minds!"
Even now, with the sound of gunfire ringing in the air and the thunder of footsteps marching their way, both Caleb's and Grim's were undecided. It was obvious that Grim was at a sharp indecision, his rational mind tugging him this way and his heart tugging him the other way. The ghoul saw this and yelped, "Forget the girl! You need to worry about your own skin!" He fidgeted from foot to foot as the raiders came ever closer.
But Grim merely shook his head. "I'm not leaving without Rogue."
"This offer is only good once, hummie! I can't wait for you any longer," replied the ghoul.
"I'm not leaving," came Grim's firm reply. He grimly takes out an automatic pistol and, without bothering to look back, rushes to the girl's direction, high up in the balcony.
"That damned fool!" cursed the ghoul, shaking his head, dumbfounded. He turned around to Caleb, a weary expression on his rotted face, and asked, "And what of you Blade? You coming along?" He held open a manhole in the ground and his foot was halfway in it.
Caleb stared into the sewer gate, at his only deliverance to freedom, and then took another look at the receding back of Grim. The odds were insane; an army of raiders against three. There would be a butchering tonight. Blood would stain the ground.
"Wait up for me," he told the ghoul casually. He unslung his two guns from his holster, ignoring the numbing throb from his right hand, and ran after Grim. Behind him, he faintly heard the ghoul mutter something about damn hummies.
The distance was too great to catch up to Grim and Caleb could see that he was almost into the thick of the raiders. He ran with exerting force, straining his body even further. His left leg burned in agony. Earlier, he had dug out eight shotgun pellets from his leg with the edge of his blade. It would be a sore ride for the old man.
Keeping his eyes on Grim's back and his two guns raised in front of him, Caleb sought to close off the distance between the two. As he was nearly catching up, he heard a dull thud coming off from his right side, followed by a loud explosion.
A fragmentation grenade went off, obliterating a huge chunk of junk that was formerly an impossible wall. The shower of debris scattered all over the place and piled up so high that Caleb was unable to get to Grim. The Blade cursed, and he worried for the other man's fate.
But the lone cowboy would have his own fair share of trouble. As the dust and smoke cleared, Caleb could make out the sillhouetes of a few raiders rushing into the blown away hole in the barrier of junk. They barked furiously like dogs and Caleb knew that they would also fight like dogs.
Three raiders tenatively stepped into the junkyard. They were merely the spearhead of a much larger force. And the first thing they saw as the came through the entrance were the two awning bores of Caleb's guns.
Caleb pulled the triggers. The raiders died with a look of surprise on their faces.
The Blade immediately ran away, jerking to the right and further into the junkyard. Facing an entire horde of raiders at one time was suicide. He had to use his surroundings for his own benefit.
As he ran, gasping deep breathfuls, he heard the commotion of fighting and shouts coming from Rogue's and Grim's area. He prayed that they were holding their own.
Caleb saw a narrow, shadowed gap formed by two broken down cars and he dived into it. The footsteps of the raiders were coming down his trail, too numerous to count but sounding like maybe a half dozen.
Caleb did not use discretion. Discretion was for those who thought they had a chance in survivng. Caleb, who knew that he didn't have a damn chance, was only concerned about how many raiders he could take down with him.
So when the raiders ran passed him, Caleb did not merely let them go. He lept out of his shadows and unloaded his guns. In the cramped narrow confines created by the junkyard, the bunched up raiders had no chance. Caleb wished that he had brought his shotgun but he had to abandon in at the warehouse because he didn't have room to carry it around. But his revolvers did as good a job.
The Blade fired blindly into the midst of raiders, catching two lagging raiders squarely in the back. The remaining raiders turned around to fire and Caleb dove to the ground to avoid being cut down by bullets. The raiders were using chopped down SMGs, mostly uzis and other smalled calibered guns. They fired recklessly and the air was filled with the sounds of a dozen droning bees.
Caleb slithered on his belly, slowly edging back to the gap he had found earlier. The raiders were firing blindly but a few actually found their mark. But they didn't hit Caleb; instead, they hit each other. The Blade laughed mirthlessly as the raiders cursed as the gunners from the back ranks fired upon the frontline troops. He doubted that any of them were killed but reckoned a few would not be able to sit down on their seats for a while.
The raiders, holding their buttocks in pain, scurried after Caleb with their guns still going off. Caleb regained his footing in the shadowed gap and he lept up on top of the broken down cars, gaining the high ground. The bullets flew from Caleb's guns as the raider's looked up in surprise and died with the same expression. Three more raiders fell before the group could regain their composure and shoot back.
Caleb lept about on piles of trash as he attempted to outrace bullets. He reloaded his guns in midstride, a fancy trick taught to him as a child. His forefingers and thumbs flowed along his belt as he retrieved cartridges and slipped them into the chamber with a practiced finger. When his guns were fully reloaded, he flicked the chambers shut with a flick of his wrists.
The remaining three raiders, now cautious, were still racing after him. Caleb estimated the distance between them by their footfalls and his mind worked as he formulated an ambush. He lept off from the piles of trash and slid behind a crate, huddling his body behind it.
The raiders, still behind him, cleared through the canyons of trash and lept into the open. Caleb waited for them to get closer before leaping away from his cover. His hand shot forward and gripped one raider by the throat. He drew him in close and pressed the barrel of his right hand revolver against his chin. The other two raiders stopped, leveling their guns at Caleb and looking concernedly at their hostaged companion. Caleb stood their, with the raider in front of him as a human shield. The two raiders with the submachineguns were debating their next course of action.
Caleb decided to narrow their choices. He pulled the trigger of the gun pressed against his hostage, blowing the raider's head into a million goblets of blood.
The two raiders stared in shock at the bloody display of violence. They recoiled in horror as the headless corpse of their companion fell onto the ground. Their eyes were still planted on the dead body when Caleb drew his other gun and fired into both of their chests. They went down silently, their faces still aghast.
The Blade ran back to loot the corpses of the already downed raider. By now, a swarm of raiders were marching around, trying to contain the area. Caleb easily kept out of sight and the bodies of the downed companions were neglected. Edging slowly from the shadows, he pulled off an ancient looking Mauser rifle from the back of a dead raider. Caleb threw back the loading bolt and saw that their were five bullets in it. He grinned savagely as he shouldered the rifle and made his way into the heart of the army.
Keeping out of sight was easy. His clothing were dark enought and he moved gracefully and effortlessly, almost gliding like a wraith. But just to be sure, he timed his movements with the gaps between raider patrols and kept onto the high ground.
His ears guided him. Caleb could hear the sound of a raging gunfight coming from the blocked off area of the junkyard. The Blade knew that his companions were in trouble.
Like a simian ape, Caleb climped atop a dumpster, using that as a leveling spot to haul himself up onto a pile of downed cars. He worked his way to the top of the junkpile until he could get a clear unobstructive view of the area.
The junkyard was a raging battlefied from Caleb's eagle eye point of view. He could see at least fifty raiders marching about the place and he had the good sense to crouch low from his high vantage point. The Blade could see that many of the raiders were now rushing into the front entrance were Grim and Rogue would no doubt be hiding.
Things were looking rather...grim for Caleb's friends. With his sharp vision, he could see Grim in the open middle grounds of the junkyard, fighting his way through a wave of raiders to Rogue. Fortunately, the raiders fighting against Grim were merely packing knives and pitiful handguns while Grim had somehow picked up a pair of submachineguns, which he was making good work of. At least thirty raiders were rushing towards Grim and the scarred man was mowing them down just as quickly. Caleb couldn't see any sign of Rogue but hoped that she would be well.
The Blade decided to even up the odd against Grim. He unshouldered his Mauser rifle and placed the butt of the stock into the crevice of his shoulder. Caleb closed off his left eye and aligned the sights of the Mauser with his right eye. He only had five shots. He intended to make them count.
He scoured the area of the battlefield for likely targets, scanning with the tip of the rifle. He saw a raider bearing a massive shotgun sneaking his way towards Grim's back and fired a surgical shot into the shotgunner's neck. The roar of the rifle was incredibly loud, piercing through the rest of the noises in the battlefield. Grim jumped reflexively around, his dual SMGs pointed at ready. He gaped in surprise at the dead corpse at his feet and looked up, catching sight of Caleb high up on top of the junkpile. Caleb raised a hand in greeting and Grim pumped his arms in victory. He turned back to the battle, confident that his back was guarded.
As Grim laid waste to the rest of the raiders, Caleb scanned for more important targets. He saw two raiders rushing up to the balcony, attempting to either pick off Grim or himself from higher ground. The Blade snapped away two shots, killing both of the raiders. Once again, the reporting roar of the gunshot was so loud that a few raiders stopped in midfight to find the source of the rifle. Caleb hunkered down everytime he fired, not wishing to be detected.
He had two more shots left and he had to make sure that they would be worthwhile. He scanned back to the warfield were Grim was fighting and saw that the scarred man was having a bit of trouble against a particular raider. This raider was dressed head to toe in encumbering steel plated armor and he had a submachinegun of his own. Grim was bleeding from a dozen grazing bullet wounds and he was vainly spraying bullets agains the armored raider's breastplate.
Caleb gritted his teeth and lined up the sight with the raider's unhelmeted head. He released his breath as he pulled the trigger. The bullet left the barrel of the Mauser with deafening scream as it tore through the air seperating it and its target. In less then a second, the bullet journeyed through its course and pierced cleanly through the armored raider's skull and into his brain. The raider fell, dead as dead ever will be.
Panting from his wounds, Grim turned around and raised both of his SMGs in salute. Caleb returned it and went back to work.
He now only had one shot left. This would have to be the finale to his handiwork. But who to kill?
Caleb found his answer at the gate of the junkyard. A tall man dressed in fine clothes, too fine to be an average grunt raider, was shouting about orders to the other raiders, punctuating his commands with thrusting gestures. Though the Caleb does not know it, his intended target is Mendez, leiutenant of Kroegar himself.
The Blade set the Mauser across his knees, taking a pause to prepare himself. He pulled back on the arming bolt and withdrew his last remaining bullet. Slowly, almost ceremoniously, Caleb withdrew his knife and began carving into the case of the bullet a half-moon crescent, his own personal calling card among the Blades. If any of the surviving raiders found the bullet casing, he wanted to make sure that they knew he had made the kill.
Licking his lips, Caleb reloaded the Mauser rifle and propped it up again. He swung it over to were Mendez was barking his commands, took aim, and fired.
The final gunshot is like a sonic boom. Every single raider stopped in their tracks at the deafening noise and they cupped their hands over their ears in pain. Mendez even stops screaming his commands. The group leader of the raiders stares up to peak of the mountain of junk were Caleb his crouching and he is able to release one guttural cry of rage before the bullet tears away a considerable chunk of his head.
The drop in morale was evident. As the nearest group of raiders saw their leader die, a deep murmur of discord spreads around the army. Soon, a cry of, "Mendez is dead!" is raised throughout the junkyard. Caleb smiled in satisfaction at how the raiders began running about in panic.
The smoke was still rising from Caleb's gun when a movement from the shadows at the junkyard's balcony caught his eyes. The Blade's head snapped over to the shadows and Caleb saw a giant of man dressed in a black suit. His hair is heavily greased and combed back and sunglasses shade his eyes, even though it is still dark. His hands are covered in assassin's gloves and a sniper rifle is held at ready in his arms. Caleb felt a knot of cold in grow in his gut when he realized that the sniper rifle was pointed at him.
From the shadows, Mandrake smiles his sharklike grin as aligns the sniper rifle scope with Caleb's chest and pulls the trigger.
Caleb moved a miniscual inch to the right by sheer reflex and that small movement saves his life. The sniper bullet tears into his left shoulder instead of his chest but the force of impact is enough to send the ancient Blade tumpling down the mountain of junk.
As Caleb fell, his back and shoulders dug against the protruding bits of garbage and trash, badly cutting into his skin. His shoulder is a mess of frayed and bloody flesh and his entire arm was numb. If he didn't get medical attention, he would die from shock.
Caleb finishes his fall, landing on top of a relatively soft patch of grass that broke his fall slightly. Enough so that he would not pass out, at least. The Blade stayed on the ground for a long while, fighting off shock and forcing air to pump in his lungs. His right hand had been slashed by Claire McKinner, his left leg had been blasted by the shotgunner in the warehouse, and now, his left shoulder is nearly blown off. If only my brothers could see me now, thinks Caleb with a grin.
The Blade slowly gets to his feet and hobbles off. None of the raiders take notice of him, despite the fact that he is badly injured, he is bearing the mark of the Blades, and he had a Mauser rifle strapped across his back. They were too busy fighting among each other over leadership, now that Mendez is dead. Caleb moves in the open and rushes back to the manhole.
Fortunately, the ghoul was still waiting next to the manhole. He had been acting like a dead corpse, a perfect role for a ghoul, since the raiders had come. On seeing Caleb, the ghoul leapt to his feet and yelled out, "Finally!"
Caleb smirked and remarked, "I thought you said you couldn't wait for me."
The ghoul snorts at the reply and says, "Lucky for you that I did wait. It looks like you're about to take a dirtnap anytime now." The ghoul looked about Caleb in confusion and asked, "Were the hell is your friend?"
Caleb shook his head. "We got seperated when finding Rogue. Last I saw, he was fending off an entire army of raiders with two submachineguns roaring. There's nothing more I can do for him."
The ghoul shrugged but he looked concerned. "Fine then. Let's hurry before the raiders find us." The ghoul shimmied down the manhole and Caleb followed along, with Mauser rifle and new wound in tow.
The ghoul lead the Blade deep through the sewers. The pair has to stop every once and awhile for Caleb to catch his breath. The older man considers patching up his shoulder wound but he took another look at it and knew that it would have to be stitched back up. They move on.
The path is long and wavy. Apparently, the sewers of Tabis were extensive enough to cover the grounds of a few miles. But as time went by, the sewers had fallen into neglect. Several tunnels were closed off now from collapsed ruins. But the ghouls from the Reactor had taken the lapse of absence from humans to build a network of tunnels from the Reactor to Tabis. For whatever reasons were unknown to Caleb.
Finally, the pair reached what looked like a ghoul checkpoint. A few armed ghouls were holding guard around a particular area and Caleb could see that they had set up a minor base of operations within the sewers. His ghoul escort told the guards about the situation with the raiders and they let the pair through. The escort lead Caleb to a bunk to wait. When he came back, the escort was accompanied with another ghoul bearing some anesthiser and needle and thread.
The other ghoul hobbled over to where Caleb waited and grinned. "Hey, there, smoothskin! My name's Wally!" He thrust out his left hand for Caleb to shake but Caleb only winces and points to his wounded shoulder.
Wally only grins, embarrassed. "Oh, right. Don't worry, we'll get you patched up." The ghoul cupped the mask of anesthiser around Caleb's mouth and the Blade began drifting to sleep. As Wally threaded the needle, he mades a tsk-tsking noise and says, "You know, smoothskin, your looking pretty ugly and beat up." Wally's face broke up into a wide grin. "I think you'll fit right in with us ghouls!"
OOC- Whoo, I'm beat from all that typing. I think I'll make Wally another NPC that follows Caleb around. I think I model his personality after Harold from the Fallout series and model his skills after Lenny from Fallout 2.
"Credo Ut Intelligam"- I believe so that I may understand.
