G
Guest
Guest
This fic has been posted on the Illuminati messageboard for a couple days now, due to the untimely crash of the gamestats server. It has been a long time in comming and I hope you all like it. Thanks for your patients!
*****
The Plan of A Master
Part 3: Survival
By True Raven
Two long, dark shadows crept over the parched, scarred earth in the early morning light. Two lone figures walked alone but together. The dry ground crunching beneath their boots. Two men walking away from what seemed to be a certain past into an uncertain future. Away from the Vault that had been their home. Away from the memories that haunted their dreams the past three days.
One of the men was formerly known as Sam Boyarsky, now known as Harold. Harold was a man who barely looked old enough to leave the safety of his parents’ home and now he was alone in the Wastes of the world. Harold was now alone with his only remaining friend in the world, Richard Grey.
Richard Grey.
The man formerly known as Richard Mereua. Grey was the one to suggest the name change after their exile from their Vault. Maybe he didn’t want to think about what he had left behind. As Richard Mereua, Grey was the Head of Scientific Studies of Vault 8. He was a man with power and authority. Rich was also a man who was hated and feared by the Overseer of the Vault, Henson Reliche, the man who had them exiled from their home of Vault 8. Now he was no longer Richard Mereua, he was but a nomad. No power or authority was left for Richard Grey, Wanderer of the Wastes.
As if the former Sam Boyarsky had left anything less. He left behind a wife and a small family. No children although he wanted some. He thought they had time but someone had left them with no time at all. He thought he would grow old with the woman of his dreams, the woman he loved. Instead he had been framed and exiled before even attending her funeral. He killed the man who harmed her but was sent away without even being allowed a goodbye to his fallen angel. He was a young married man with a beautiful young wife and a bright future inside the Vault. Now he lost everything. They truly both had lost everything.
The problem they now faced was survival. No matter who they once were. The greatest man the world had ever known would die of starvation after a few days. They had already had their few days. And in those few days they had seen neither hide nor hair of anything remotely edible. They ignored their growling stomachs with as much courage as their bodies could muster but when they looked at each other’s eyes they knew the situation was getting beyond desperate.
**********
“How do you feel Harold?” Grey looked a little worried but then again anyone should really look more than a little worried if they faced almost certain death in a Radioactive Hell.
“Angry, violent, helpless, lonely. Too many emotions, not enough adjectives to describe them.” Wasn’t that the truth. If only Reliche was there for him to take his aggression out on. If he only had a way to purge the hate from his body. Too many “if only’s” and no real certainties in his life anymore, except despair. Despair had welled up inside of him from the first moment he stepped into the sun for the first time in his life, and it seemed that it had an iron grip that wouldn’t let go.
The sun itself was amazing and horrid at the same time. 23 years inside an underground vault had made it so he had never seen the sun. The old books talked sparingly about it. Those people had seen it everyday of their lives. This was something shockingly new for Harold and they had taken it for granted. Under different circumstances maybe it would have been exciting but now it was just another sign that he would never again see his former home.
“Be careful with emotions my friend. They can drive a man insane before he knows it. Keep them in check and never let them drive you to do something common sense warns against.” That fatherly look was on Grey’s face again. He looked haggard now. A partially overgrown beard covered the lower half of his face. Grey hated untidy beards; rather Mereua hated untidy beards.
It was difficult not thinking of Grey as just Mereua under a different name. It was difficult to believe that he himself wasn’t Sam Boyarsky anylonger. Maybe Grey would think differently of his facial hair growing to wild lengths. Maybe they both would become completely different people after a time in the Waste. Harold scratched the new hair on his own chin for a second. Damn sun made everything itchy.
“Grey how much longer do you think we can go?” they were making a point of calling each other by their new names. If there was some sort of civilization left on earth they intended to find it. And if they did find it, they didn’t want people asking too many questions. Calling each other by different names than they were prepared to give would definitely bring up some questions. Memories were painful enough without people trying to add to them. Would things ever get any better?
“Harold, I think we’ve got a couple days left if we can find water today. If we can’t…” a small frown turned down the corner of his lips. “I think we have until nightfall. We are already extremely dehydrated and our bodies haven’t had any food for three days. I don’t want to lie to you friend, the chances aren’t good if we can’t find food today.” He sighed at the end.
Grey was exhausted. It was easy to tell. Grey was sleeping about 4 hours a night and the rest of the time he spent either hiking with Harold or taking notes. They stopped frequently to take notes about the Wastes. Anything they could find that was slightly interesting was documented as well as possible. If they were to die and someone found these notes then maybe reading the words of two highly trained scientists, one with the Vault equivalent of a Ph.D., would help them navigate this Wasteland to safety. Or at least it was something to take their minds off of how much had been lost just three short days ago.
They were trudging onward, heading east. About 100 miles northeast from them was Vault 6, under the city that formerly known as Reno before the war. Grey believed that if they were to go there and present their situation to the Overseer then maybe he would take them into the Vault. Then again, fewer Warheads had been targeted at that area and the radiation was less severe. Maybe the Vault had opened earlier and its citizens already used the Garden of Eden Creation Kit, or GECK, to revitalize the land and create a New City, a New Reno? So many possibilities and none of them certain.
“What I wouldn’t give for a little certainty in my life,” Harold mumbled.
If Grey heard that he gave no indication. Instead he was looking at something. At another pile of rocks, so it seemed. Harold was starting to wonder if Grey would ever stop looking at stones and thinking there was some scientific marvel behind each one.
“Harold. Stop. I think I’ve found something.” Grey looked a mite nervous, but a hopeful sparkle in his eye brought Harold to a dead stop.
Looking down at the pile of rocks Grey was Harold realized that behind them sat about 12 round things that were not rocks. They were about a foot long and oval shaped. The outside was hard and if they were polished they may have even shined. They were a little discolored from the constant dirty winds that seemed to always be blowing, but other wise they were a light brownish color. Suddenly realization hit Harold.
“Eggs! Grey they’re eggs!” Harold must have looked like a child about to get a present for being extra good, but he didn’t care. Maybe they weren’t going to die after all.
“You think these are edible?” Grey arched an eyebrow. “I’ve never even heard of eggs this large. Then again I guess much too much has changed since the war. I wonder what kind of creature could lay eggs this large.”
Harold considered that for a moment and decided that he didn’t care. “Grey we have food now. If it’s not edible then we die. If we don’t eat them we die anyway. Don’t you think it’s worth a shot?”
Looking at his friend again Harold started to understand the thought that was running through the other man’s mind. At first he became angry before realizing that although Grey may be trying to change his image a little, he was still a scientist at heart. Maybe putting the thought out of his mind gently would be Harold’s safest option. It would surely be the safest option for both their stomachs.
“Harold, maybe we could-” Grey started.
“Eat right now? I couldn’t agree with you more Grey. But I was thinking, maybe we should eat one of these things now and then keep a couple more for later. That way we have a food supply, even if it is meager, and if we find something else to eat we could study these eggs. Who knows what we’ll discover?”
Grey realized what his friend was trying to get at and immediately gave that satisfied grin Harold hadn’t seen since before they had ever taken a breath of air from outside the Vault. Grey was still a human being and a little reasoning with him would work as well as it would with anybody. Besides that, from five feet away Harold could hear Grey’s stomach growling with anticipation. They would feast soon. Harold was sure of it.
“I guess sacrificing one egg wouldn’t harm the scientific community too much…” Grey was beaming now. “I just hope you can figure out how to cook this thing.”
“Would you like it scrambled or over easy?”
At that both men doubled over laughing.
How long had it been since they last had a good laugh? The rough desert they now called their home was far from humorous and being thirsty all the time made conversation difficult. But it was much more than that. The situation they had gotten themselves into made laughing almost impossible most times. Even now the anxiety of living was etched on both men’s faces as roars of laughter made them double over in pain. When would they be free to laugh again?
Wiping the tears from his formerly dry eyes, Harold began the task of trying to figure out exactly how he was going to cook these eggs. The books about hen eggs he read while in the vault said that eggs needed to be cracked open in order to be eaten. And cracked a certain way, no doubt. Looking around at the surrounding area, Harold found what he was looking for.
A large flat rock that was scorched hot in the midday sun of the Wastes sat next to another, smaller rock that taller than it was wide. Both rocks had their fair share of dust clinging to the sides of them, and were very close to boulder sized rocks. The very large rocks provided some shade about five feet from where the smaller rocks lay.
Snatching an egg from the ground Harold sprinted over to where the formation of stones lay as fast as he could manage with the massive egg in his hands. Gently tapping the egg on the side of the tall thin rock produced nothing, so Harold tried a more direct approach. Raising the egg over his head he brought it down with as much power as his weary arms could find.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing friend?”
Looking down at the small crack that had formed on the side of the egg brought a broad smile to Harold’s face.
“Yeah, Grey. I think I’ve got it pal.”
Applying pressure to the crack in the egg, Harold widened it as much as he felt was necessary. Then he attempted to pour the contents of the egg onto the hot, flat rock. As the yellow and translucent liquids from inside the eggshell hit the rock, steam hissed and the liquid bubbled.
“So what do you do now?”
“Well, um…” Harold scratched his head. “Damn, the books said it should be easier than this.”
“Weren’t they also dealing with eggs fifty times smaller?”
“Good point.”
“So your next course of action would be…?”
“Figure out how the hell to cook an egg fifty times larger.”
That brought a small sigh from Grey but Harold wasn’t to be discouraged. The thoughts tickled the back of his mind. The promise he made minutes after being exiled from the Vault. How Lucy always cooked him his meals. How he hadn’t been there for Lucy when she needed him most.
Lucy.
Just her name made his hands tighten into balls. Reliche would pay. No doubt in his mind. Harold had promised himself that before he was Harold. So long as Reliche was breathing freely Harold had to keep himself alive. Once Reliche had felt the wrath-
“Harold!”
Harold woke suddenly from his daydream. It seemed that Grey had that worried fatherly look on his face again. The man certainly felt responsible, even if he had done nothing wrong. Grey made another reason for vengeance in Harold’s mind. Not only had Lucy and Harold’s life been destroyed, but Grey’s had been as well. Reliche would pay. Harold’s stomach let out a ferocious growl. Well, nobody would pay the retribution they owed if Harold couldn’t remember how to cook these eggs. Another growl from his stomach seemed to whip his mind into action. How the hell to cook these eggs?
Putting his face close to the rock, Grey sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “I think something is wrong with these eggs Harold. They smell… charred.”
“Shit!” In all his thinking Harold had forgotten that eggs would burn if cooked too long. Hell, anything would burn if cooked too long, but these eggs seemed especially sensitive. “Aw, hell!” The egg was slightly blackened on the bottom and incredibly hot. Harold stabbed the eggs with his knife and tried to get some of the steam out. Maybe this would be a good time to tell Grey that he was never a good cook, as if he hadn’t figured that out already.
“Here Rich, try some of this.” Harold held out a piece of the egg for Grey to taste with the knife. Grey smelled it, wrinkling his nose again, and shot a quick glance at his friend. Harold motioned with the knife and Grey snatched the egg off and into his mouth in one quick motion.
“So how do you like it?” Grey tried to smile, but it looked much more like grimace. He shuddered as he swallowed and Grey’s eyes bulged as the eggs hit his stomach.
“Good Goddamn that shit is hot!” Grey rapidly exhaled and burped as if to get the heat out from his body. “ But not half bad if it didn’t burn you all the way down.”
“So do you want another piece?”
“Fuck yeah, I haven’t eaten in three days!”
Slicing off another piece for his friend and one for himself, Harold scanned the horizon of the vast desert they had come to call the Wastes or the Wasteland. What exactly would this Wasteland hold for them? How would they survive without a steady supply of food? One thing was for certain; they needed more people. It was one thing to survive on your own for a week or two. It was quite another to even fathom surviving for a year or two without more people to help them. A small clan of 10 or 20 people could survive the Wastes, Harold was sure of it. Maybe they would need more food and shelter, but they would also be more protected. You never knew what would happen in this Wasteland-
Harold’s train of thought was interrupted but a grunt and a thud coming from Grey’s direction followed by a low hissing sound the likes of which Harold had never heard before.
Whirling without thinking, Harold stared in shock at the sight that greeted his eyes. His friend lying motionless on the ground, a small pool of blood forming by his side. Slightly more than ten feet from his unconscious friend sat the most horrific creature the young man had ever seen. Crouched was more like it. Crouching on the barren earth like a massive cat ready to pounce on its prey. Dark leathery brown and scaly, a seven-foot club-like tail with a metallic looking point was attached to the rear of its body. Six small double-jointed legs and a carapace twice as long as Grey was tall. Two massive razor sharp claws that looked as if they could easily dismember the largest man Harold could imagine rounded out the picture. The creature swung its seemingly undersized head in Harold’s direction and looked at him with blood red eyes that looked as pissed as any humans could manage. The creature turned slowly and stalked to Harold.
Looking to his fallen friend and the pool of blood around Grey’s head brought a memory from the recesses of Harold’s mind. Suddenly Lucy lay there bleeding, not Grey, and rage filled Harold’s body. A voice came into his mind, the sweet voice that had haunted Harold’s worst nightmares since the exile from his former home. A loving whisper filled his tortured thoughts.
“Sam, my love. Avenge me!”
With a scream Harold drew his knife and charged the creature. Hate from Sam Boyarsky’s ruined life drove Harold forward. The creature sprinted forward and swung it’s tail.
Adrenaline charged, Harold ducked and rolled under the tear in the air left by the tail missing its mark. Squatting to his haunches, he spun the knifepoint down, and drove the blade into the left hind leg of the off balance monster.
The monster shrieked as the hot blade split the joint of its leg as easily as if Harold had driven it into loose sand. Obviously rage filled, it spun with surprising quickness, and buried a claw in Harold’s stomach, doubling him over and almost knocking the wind out of him. Looking up through blurred eyes, Harold saw a gleam in the air as the creature brought it’s tail up, seemingly ready to deliver the finishing blow.
A second flash of light came from behind the creature but Harold almost didn’t notice. He could only see the tail poised and ready to end his life. The world was spinning and blurred. Grey was injured. Harold was about to die. Lucy was dead. Reliche was still alive. Reliche must pay! The whisper returned.
“You must stay alive, my love.”
The tail came down like lightening and Harold sprang backwards, the tail striking the ground where he was with incredible power. The force of the blow cracked the ground and forced the sharp tip of the tail into the dry earth, trapping the monster. The creature swung its claw at Harold again. Harold blinked.
The claw lay on the ground, bleeding slightly with a smoking hole in the side of it. The creature was screaming now and had a green slimy substance coming from its mouth. Its tail was still wedged in the ground.
“Finish it!” A gruff voice brought Harold out of dreamland.
“For Lucy!” Harold brought the knife over his head with both hands and drove the point through the creature’s left eye and turned the blade with all the power his weakened body could muster.
The sound the came from the monster was shattering. Ripping the blade from the eye of the thrashing monster, Harold took a few steps back, out of harms way. The monster tore its tail from the ground and took a few steps towards its attacker before finally surrendering its life and collapsing to the ground.
“Unbe- fucking- lievable. Boy, I’ve been in these wastes for a long time and I’ve never seen anyone do that to a Radscorpion, especially not to a bull that size. Hell, I’ve never even seen less than four men attack a bull that size. What’s your name son?”
“Grey!” Harold yelled as he ran over to his fallen friend. He had a small lump on his head, a few cuts and his nose was bleeding. A shattered eggshell lay next to him. “Come on man get up!”
Grey groaned and tried to sit up. “Harold, be a good assistant and get me some more of that egg.”
“You son of a bitch! I just fought, er, God knows what, and you are asking for some eggs!” Harold could feel heat in his face and in his voice, but he didn’t care. He had just risked his life for his friend and the man had no idea what happened. Worse still, he was more concerned about getting more food from his assistant. True, he had been hit in the head by the huge- thing, but he should have some idea of what happened.
“Don’t get pissy with me! Here I am listening to this egg to see if I can figure out if it is a reptile or an insect and suddenly I have a headache and fall asleep. Then you wake me up and all I want is some eggs and- um, who is that?”
Grey pointed a slightly bloodied hand at a large man standing a few feet away. In all the confusion, Harold hadn’t seen large figure standing over the body of the defeated, what was it called? Rad-something? Not that it really mattered anyway. Not with that big man holding a shiny nickel-plated pistol standing next to it.
The man was smaller than Reliche, but not by much. He looked about 6’3 or 6’4 and as if he was in his early to mid twenties. A black leather belt around his waist held three more clips for his pistol. Long light brown hair came down an inch past his shoulders and framed a sun-tanned face that looked both hard and curious. The short stubble on his chin announced that he hadn’t shaven in a day or two. The man could easily have been some sort of post-apocalyptic bodybuilder, on a smaller scale maybe. He was certainly one of the stronger human beings Harold had ever seen. His faded blue jeans and white tank top conformed to his body in a way that most women would probably think was attractive. Women always did think things like that were important, even if they wouldn’t admit it. The man had white bands on his wrists with something written on them in black ink and he was wearing a leather jacket. In the hottest part of the day the man looked dressed for the chilly Wasteland nights!
Harold held his knife out in a semi-threatening gesture and asked, “Who are you and why are you here?”
“Well son, if you are trying to act tough it’ll be kind of tough when you have something like that on your knife.”
A quick glance down made Harold jump and drop his knife. The eye of the creature was still on his knife, and dripping some sort of foul smelling substance onto Harold’s hand. Feeling heat in his face, Harold quickly bent down and cleaned his knife on the hot earth. Grey groaned and Harold shot him a quick glance, hoping to silence him for the remainder of the conversation.
When he had finished cleaning, Harold looked at his knife and then at the man’s pistol. Sheathing the knife Harold folded his arms and waited. The man didn’t look dangerous but who knew what kind of person he was.
“The name is Mark,” he said extending his hand to Harold. “Now are you two going to introduce yourselves or am I just going to call you shithead?”
From the corner of his eye Harold saw Grey raise an eyebrow. Maybe Grey hadn’t seen what had happened earlier but it was plain to Harold that Mark had saved their lives. In some sort of twisted way anyhow. Nevertheless, the man seemed to want a friendship and Harold was ready for friends. A smile split his face, maybe they were going to survive the Wastes after all.
“I’m Harold. Thank you for helping us.” Harold unfolded his arms and took Mark’s hand. Mark had a firm grip and the look he gave Harold was that of an equal.
Mark turned, faced Grey and extended his hand. “And you are Grey?”
“I am Richard Grey,” Harold’s friend said, extending his hand and firmly shaking Mark’s. “Forgive me if I’m being a bit rude but can you tell me if there are any settlements close by?”
“Friend you are three miles from Tradertown. How about the three of us go there? I haven’t been for a year or so and from what I hear the town has grown a bit. A few more people and a new tavern, probably some new shops too. We can be there by nightfall if we set out now.”
“Mark,” said Grey, “That is a great idea.”
“Let’s just get our belongings and be on our way.” Harold could hardly contain his excitement. People could live of this land! They were not damned to a short life and a prolonged death after all. Maybe this Wasteland held a new hope for fallen men after all.
*****
Well.... how do you like it?
Slinky.... I know you're out there.... reply please....
True Raven
*****
The Plan of A Master
Part 3: Survival
By True Raven
Two long, dark shadows crept over the parched, scarred earth in the early morning light. Two lone figures walked alone but together. The dry ground crunching beneath their boots. Two men walking away from what seemed to be a certain past into an uncertain future. Away from the Vault that had been their home. Away from the memories that haunted their dreams the past three days.
One of the men was formerly known as Sam Boyarsky, now known as Harold. Harold was a man who barely looked old enough to leave the safety of his parents’ home and now he was alone in the Wastes of the world. Harold was now alone with his only remaining friend in the world, Richard Grey.
Richard Grey.
The man formerly known as Richard Mereua. Grey was the one to suggest the name change after their exile from their Vault. Maybe he didn’t want to think about what he had left behind. As Richard Mereua, Grey was the Head of Scientific Studies of Vault 8. He was a man with power and authority. Rich was also a man who was hated and feared by the Overseer of the Vault, Henson Reliche, the man who had them exiled from their home of Vault 8. Now he was no longer Richard Mereua, he was but a nomad. No power or authority was left for Richard Grey, Wanderer of the Wastes.
As if the former Sam Boyarsky had left anything less. He left behind a wife and a small family. No children although he wanted some. He thought they had time but someone had left them with no time at all. He thought he would grow old with the woman of his dreams, the woman he loved. Instead he had been framed and exiled before even attending her funeral. He killed the man who harmed her but was sent away without even being allowed a goodbye to his fallen angel. He was a young married man with a beautiful young wife and a bright future inside the Vault. Now he lost everything. They truly both had lost everything.
The problem they now faced was survival. No matter who they once were. The greatest man the world had ever known would die of starvation after a few days. They had already had their few days. And in those few days they had seen neither hide nor hair of anything remotely edible. They ignored their growling stomachs with as much courage as their bodies could muster but when they looked at each other’s eyes they knew the situation was getting beyond desperate.
**********
“How do you feel Harold?” Grey looked a little worried but then again anyone should really look more than a little worried if they faced almost certain death in a Radioactive Hell.
“Angry, violent, helpless, lonely. Too many emotions, not enough adjectives to describe them.” Wasn’t that the truth. If only Reliche was there for him to take his aggression out on. If he only had a way to purge the hate from his body. Too many “if only’s” and no real certainties in his life anymore, except despair. Despair had welled up inside of him from the first moment he stepped into the sun for the first time in his life, and it seemed that it had an iron grip that wouldn’t let go.
The sun itself was amazing and horrid at the same time. 23 years inside an underground vault had made it so he had never seen the sun. The old books talked sparingly about it. Those people had seen it everyday of their lives. This was something shockingly new for Harold and they had taken it for granted. Under different circumstances maybe it would have been exciting but now it was just another sign that he would never again see his former home.
“Be careful with emotions my friend. They can drive a man insane before he knows it. Keep them in check and never let them drive you to do something common sense warns against.” That fatherly look was on Grey’s face again. He looked haggard now. A partially overgrown beard covered the lower half of his face. Grey hated untidy beards; rather Mereua hated untidy beards.
It was difficult not thinking of Grey as just Mereua under a different name. It was difficult to believe that he himself wasn’t Sam Boyarsky anylonger. Maybe Grey would think differently of his facial hair growing to wild lengths. Maybe they both would become completely different people after a time in the Waste. Harold scratched the new hair on his own chin for a second. Damn sun made everything itchy.
“Grey how much longer do you think we can go?” they were making a point of calling each other by their new names. If there was some sort of civilization left on earth they intended to find it. And if they did find it, they didn’t want people asking too many questions. Calling each other by different names than they were prepared to give would definitely bring up some questions. Memories were painful enough without people trying to add to them. Would things ever get any better?
“Harold, I think we’ve got a couple days left if we can find water today. If we can’t…” a small frown turned down the corner of his lips. “I think we have until nightfall. We are already extremely dehydrated and our bodies haven’t had any food for three days. I don’t want to lie to you friend, the chances aren’t good if we can’t find food today.” He sighed at the end.
Grey was exhausted. It was easy to tell. Grey was sleeping about 4 hours a night and the rest of the time he spent either hiking with Harold or taking notes. They stopped frequently to take notes about the Wastes. Anything they could find that was slightly interesting was documented as well as possible. If they were to die and someone found these notes then maybe reading the words of two highly trained scientists, one with the Vault equivalent of a Ph.D., would help them navigate this Wasteland to safety. Or at least it was something to take their minds off of how much had been lost just three short days ago.
They were trudging onward, heading east. About 100 miles northeast from them was Vault 6, under the city that formerly known as Reno before the war. Grey believed that if they were to go there and present their situation to the Overseer then maybe he would take them into the Vault. Then again, fewer Warheads had been targeted at that area and the radiation was less severe. Maybe the Vault had opened earlier and its citizens already used the Garden of Eden Creation Kit, or GECK, to revitalize the land and create a New City, a New Reno? So many possibilities and none of them certain.
“What I wouldn’t give for a little certainty in my life,” Harold mumbled.
If Grey heard that he gave no indication. Instead he was looking at something. At another pile of rocks, so it seemed. Harold was starting to wonder if Grey would ever stop looking at stones and thinking there was some scientific marvel behind each one.
“Harold. Stop. I think I’ve found something.” Grey looked a mite nervous, but a hopeful sparkle in his eye brought Harold to a dead stop.
Looking down at the pile of rocks Grey was Harold realized that behind them sat about 12 round things that were not rocks. They were about a foot long and oval shaped. The outside was hard and if they were polished they may have even shined. They were a little discolored from the constant dirty winds that seemed to always be blowing, but other wise they were a light brownish color. Suddenly realization hit Harold.
“Eggs! Grey they’re eggs!” Harold must have looked like a child about to get a present for being extra good, but he didn’t care. Maybe they weren’t going to die after all.
“You think these are edible?” Grey arched an eyebrow. “I’ve never even heard of eggs this large. Then again I guess much too much has changed since the war. I wonder what kind of creature could lay eggs this large.”
Harold considered that for a moment and decided that he didn’t care. “Grey we have food now. If it’s not edible then we die. If we don’t eat them we die anyway. Don’t you think it’s worth a shot?”
Looking at his friend again Harold started to understand the thought that was running through the other man’s mind. At first he became angry before realizing that although Grey may be trying to change his image a little, he was still a scientist at heart. Maybe putting the thought out of his mind gently would be Harold’s safest option. It would surely be the safest option for both their stomachs.
“Harold, maybe we could-” Grey started.
“Eat right now? I couldn’t agree with you more Grey. But I was thinking, maybe we should eat one of these things now and then keep a couple more for later. That way we have a food supply, even if it is meager, and if we find something else to eat we could study these eggs. Who knows what we’ll discover?”
Grey realized what his friend was trying to get at and immediately gave that satisfied grin Harold hadn’t seen since before they had ever taken a breath of air from outside the Vault. Grey was still a human being and a little reasoning with him would work as well as it would with anybody. Besides that, from five feet away Harold could hear Grey’s stomach growling with anticipation. They would feast soon. Harold was sure of it.
“I guess sacrificing one egg wouldn’t harm the scientific community too much…” Grey was beaming now. “I just hope you can figure out how to cook this thing.”
“Would you like it scrambled or over easy?”
At that both men doubled over laughing.
How long had it been since they last had a good laugh? The rough desert they now called their home was far from humorous and being thirsty all the time made conversation difficult. But it was much more than that. The situation they had gotten themselves into made laughing almost impossible most times. Even now the anxiety of living was etched on both men’s faces as roars of laughter made them double over in pain. When would they be free to laugh again?
Wiping the tears from his formerly dry eyes, Harold began the task of trying to figure out exactly how he was going to cook these eggs. The books about hen eggs he read while in the vault said that eggs needed to be cracked open in order to be eaten. And cracked a certain way, no doubt. Looking around at the surrounding area, Harold found what he was looking for.
A large flat rock that was scorched hot in the midday sun of the Wastes sat next to another, smaller rock that taller than it was wide. Both rocks had their fair share of dust clinging to the sides of them, and were very close to boulder sized rocks. The very large rocks provided some shade about five feet from where the smaller rocks lay.
Snatching an egg from the ground Harold sprinted over to where the formation of stones lay as fast as he could manage with the massive egg in his hands. Gently tapping the egg on the side of the tall thin rock produced nothing, so Harold tried a more direct approach. Raising the egg over his head he brought it down with as much power as his weary arms could find.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing friend?”
Looking down at the small crack that had formed on the side of the egg brought a broad smile to Harold’s face.
“Yeah, Grey. I think I’ve got it pal.”
Applying pressure to the crack in the egg, Harold widened it as much as he felt was necessary. Then he attempted to pour the contents of the egg onto the hot, flat rock. As the yellow and translucent liquids from inside the eggshell hit the rock, steam hissed and the liquid bubbled.
“So what do you do now?”
“Well, um…” Harold scratched his head. “Damn, the books said it should be easier than this.”
“Weren’t they also dealing with eggs fifty times smaller?”
“Good point.”
“So your next course of action would be…?”
“Figure out how the hell to cook an egg fifty times larger.”
That brought a small sigh from Grey but Harold wasn’t to be discouraged. The thoughts tickled the back of his mind. The promise he made minutes after being exiled from the Vault. How Lucy always cooked him his meals. How he hadn’t been there for Lucy when she needed him most.
Lucy.
Just her name made his hands tighten into balls. Reliche would pay. No doubt in his mind. Harold had promised himself that before he was Harold. So long as Reliche was breathing freely Harold had to keep himself alive. Once Reliche had felt the wrath-
“Harold!”
Harold woke suddenly from his daydream. It seemed that Grey had that worried fatherly look on his face again. The man certainly felt responsible, even if he had done nothing wrong. Grey made another reason for vengeance in Harold’s mind. Not only had Lucy and Harold’s life been destroyed, but Grey’s had been as well. Reliche would pay. Harold’s stomach let out a ferocious growl. Well, nobody would pay the retribution they owed if Harold couldn’t remember how to cook these eggs. Another growl from his stomach seemed to whip his mind into action. How the hell to cook these eggs?
Putting his face close to the rock, Grey sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “I think something is wrong with these eggs Harold. They smell… charred.”
“Shit!” In all his thinking Harold had forgotten that eggs would burn if cooked too long. Hell, anything would burn if cooked too long, but these eggs seemed especially sensitive. “Aw, hell!” The egg was slightly blackened on the bottom and incredibly hot. Harold stabbed the eggs with his knife and tried to get some of the steam out. Maybe this would be a good time to tell Grey that he was never a good cook, as if he hadn’t figured that out already.
“Here Rich, try some of this.” Harold held out a piece of the egg for Grey to taste with the knife. Grey smelled it, wrinkling his nose again, and shot a quick glance at his friend. Harold motioned with the knife and Grey snatched the egg off and into his mouth in one quick motion.
“So how do you like it?” Grey tried to smile, but it looked much more like grimace. He shuddered as he swallowed and Grey’s eyes bulged as the eggs hit his stomach.
“Good Goddamn that shit is hot!” Grey rapidly exhaled and burped as if to get the heat out from his body. “ But not half bad if it didn’t burn you all the way down.”
“So do you want another piece?”
“Fuck yeah, I haven’t eaten in three days!”
Slicing off another piece for his friend and one for himself, Harold scanned the horizon of the vast desert they had come to call the Wastes or the Wasteland. What exactly would this Wasteland hold for them? How would they survive without a steady supply of food? One thing was for certain; they needed more people. It was one thing to survive on your own for a week or two. It was quite another to even fathom surviving for a year or two without more people to help them. A small clan of 10 or 20 people could survive the Wastes, Harold was sure of it. Maybe they would need more food and shelter, but they would also be more protected. You never knew what would happen in this Wasteland-
Harold’s train of thought was interrupted but a grunt and a thud coming from Grey’s direction followed by a low hissing sound the likes of which Harold had never heard before.
Whirling without thinking, Harold stared in shock at the sight that greeted his eyes. His friend lying motionless on the ground, a small pool of blood forming by his side. Slightly more than ten feet from his unconscious friend sat the most horrific creature the young man had ever seen. Crouched was more like it. Crouching on the barren earth like a massive cat ready to pounce on its prey. Dark leathery brown and scaly, a seven-foot club-like tail with a metallic looking point was attached to the rear of its body. Six small double-jointed legs and a carapace twice as long as Grey was tall. Two massive razor sharp claws that looked as if they could easily dismember the largest man Harold could imagine rounded out the picture. The creature swung its seemingly undersized head in Harold’s direction and looked at him with blood red eyes that looked as pissed as any humans could manage. The creature turned slowly and stalked to Harold.
Looking to his fallen friend and the pool of blood around Grey’s head brought a memory from the recesses of Harold’s mind. Suddenly Lucy lay there bleeding, not Grey, and rage filled Harold’s body. A voice came into his mind, the sweet voice that had haunted Harold’s worst nightmares since the exile from his former home. A loving whisper filled his tortured thoughts.
“Sam, my love. Avenge me!”
With a scream Harold drew his knife and charged the creature. Hate from Sam Boyarsky’s ruined life drove Harold forward. The creature sprinted forward and swung it’s tail.
Adrenaline charged, Harold ducked and rolled under the tear in the air left by the tail missing its mark. Squatting to his haunches, he spun the knifepoint down, and drove the blade into the left hind leg of the off balance monster.
The monster shrieked as the hot blade split the joint of its leg as easily as if Harold had driven it into loose sand. Obviously rage filled, it spun with surprising quickness, and buried a claw in Harold’s stomach, doubling him over and almost knocking the wind out of him. Looking up through blurred eyes, Harold saw a gleam in the air as the creature brought it’s tail up, seemingly ready to deliver the finishing blow.
A second flash of light came from behind the creature but Harold almost didn’t notice. He could only see the tail poised and ready to end his life. The world was spinning and blurred. Grey was injured. Harold was about to die. Lucy was dead. Reliche was still alive. Reliche must pay! The whisper returned.
“You must stay alive, my love.”
The tail came down like lightening and Harold sprang backwards, the tail striking the ground where he was with incredible power. The force of the blow cracked the ground and forced the sharp tip of the tail into the dry earth, trapping the monster. The creature swung its claw at Harold again. Harold blinked.
The claw lay on the ground, bleeding slightly with a smoking hole in the side of it. The creature was screaming now and had a green slimy substance coming from its mouth. Its tail was still wedged in the ground.
“Finish it!” A gruff voice brought Harold out of dreamland.
“For Lucy!” Harold brought the knife over his head with both hands and drove the point through the creature’s left eye and turned the blade with all the power his weakened body could muster.
The sound the came from the monster was shattering. Ripping the blade from the eye of the thrashing monster, Harold took a few steps back, out of harms way. The monster tore its tail from the ground and took a few steps towards its attacker before finally surrendering its life and collapsing to the ground.
“Unbe- fucking- lievable. Boy, I’ve been in these wastes for a long time and I’ve never seen anyone do that to a Radscorpion, especially not to a bull that size. Hell, I’ve never even seen less than four men attack a bull that size. What’s your name son?”
“Grey!” Harold yelled as he ran over to his fallen friend. He had a small lump on his head, a few cuts and his nose was bleeding. A shattered eggshell lay next to him. “Come on man get up!”
Grey groaned and tried to sit up. “Harold, be a good assistant and get me some more of that egg.”
“You son of a bitch! I just fought, er, God knows what, and you are asking for some eggs!” Harold could feel heat in his face and in his voice, but he didn’t care. He had just risked his life for his friend and the man had no idea what happened. Worse still, he was more concerned about getting more food from his assistant. True, he had been hit in the head by the huge- thing, but he should have some idea of what happened.
“Don’t get pissy with me! Here I am listening to this egg to see if I can figure out if it is a reptile or an insect and suddenly I have a headache and fall asleep. Then you wake me up and all I want is some eggs and- um, who is that?”
Grey pointed a slightly bloodied hand at a large man standing a few feet away. In all the confusion, Harold hadn’t seen large figure standing over the body of the defeated, what was it called? Rad-something? Not that it really mattered anyway. Not with that big man holding a shiny nickel-plated pistol standing next to it.
The man was smaller than Reliche, but not by much. He looked about 6’3 or 6’4 and as if he was in his early to mid twenties. A black leather belt around his waist held three more clips for his pistol. Long light brown hair came down an inch past his shoulders and framed a sun-tanned face that looked both hard and curious. The short stubble on his chin announced that he hadn’t shaven in a day or two. The man could easily have been some sort of post-apocalyptic bodybuilder, on a smaller scale maybe. He was certainly one of the stronger human beings Harold had ever seen. His faded blue jeans and white tank top conformed to his body in a way that most women would probably think was attractive. Women always did think things like that were important, even if they wouldn’t admit it. The man had white bands on his wrists with something written on them in black ink and he was wearing a leather jacket. In the hottest part of the day the man looked dressed for the chilly Wasteland nights!
Harold held his knife out in a semi-threatening gesture and asked, “Who are you and why are you here?”
“Well son, if you are trying to act tough it’ll be kind of tough when you have something like that on your knife.”
A quick glance down made Harold jump and drop his knife. The eye of the creature was still on his knife, and dripping some sort of foul smelling substance onto Harold’s hand. Feeling heat in his face, Harold quickly bent down and cleaned his knife on the hot earth. Grey groaned and Harold shot him a quick glance, hoping to silence him for the remainder of the conversation.
When he had finished cleaning, Harold looked at his knife and then at the man’s pistol. Sheathing the knife Harold folded his arms and waited. The man didn’t look dangerous but who knew what kind of person he was.
“The name is Mark,” he said extending his hand to Harold. “Now are you two going to introduce yourselves or am I just going to call you shithead?”
From the corner of his eye Harold saw Grey raise an eyebrow. Maybe Grey hadn’t seen what had happened earlier but it was plain to Harold that Mark had saved their lives. In some sort of twisted way anyhow. Nevertheless, the man seemed to want a friendship and Harold was ready for friends. A smile split his face, maybe they were going to survive the Wastes after all.
“I’m Harold. Thank you for helping us.” Harold unfolded his arms and took Mark’s hand. Mark had a firm grip and the look he gave Harold was that of an equal.
Mark turned, faced Grey and extended his hand. “And you are Grey?”
“I am Richard Grey,” Harold’s friend said, extending his hand and firmly shaking Mark’s. “Forgive me if I’m being a bit rude but can you tell me if there are any settlements close by?”
“Friend you are three miles from Tradertown. How about the three of us go there? I haven’t been for a year or so and from what I hear the town has grown a bit. A few more people and a new tavern, probably some new shops too. We can be there by nightfall if we set out now.”
“Mark,” said Grey, “That is a great idea.”
“Let’s just get our belongings and be on our way.” Harold could hardly contain his excitement. People could live of this land! They were not damned to a short life and a prolonged death after all. Maybe this Wasteland held a new hope for fallen men after all.
*****
Well.... how do you like it?
Slinky.... I know you're out there.... reply please....
True Raven
: