Vault 15! (Wastelands Chapter 3)

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"Will he live?"

The medical doctor was unsure how to answer the question. To answer badly might mean death.

"He's lost a lot of blood, and he's dehydrated." Said the doctor, stammering for an answer.

"Will he die?"

Another question. Surely they would all die, sooner than later because of these monsters. By prolonging the man's life, did the doctor do any more than prolong his agony?

Yet dare he to disappoint to the new rulers of Vault 15.

"I don't know. Maybe. He's in bad shape. With the right treatment he might survive." Said the doctor, hoping to forestall the inevitable choice.

"See to it doctor and be sure not to disappoint us." Said the stranger, before he seemed to blend into the darkness and then disappear into the decaying remains of Vault 15.

Even feeling the stranger gone, the doctor dared not look up. The strangers and their ways were a mystery. They came and went as if etheral, vanishing and appearing without warning.

Why was this one so important? He was just a man, and so many had died down in the pits below. These creatures cared little for human life, only that the humans perform their work.

To dig, and dig, and dig, down the shaft, down into the earth.

But for what?

The doctor shivered. He feared what they would eventually unlock deep below the earth.

But it was perhaps better not to think about it, for perhaps they could read his mind as well.
 
"Well we better make a move soon. But I am up for springing Brute. Who else is with me? I know some need to go and support the Vipers back at their den." He picked up the shotgun and sighed as he saw the few shells. Only 14 12guage buckshot left with no slug rounds remaining. A combat knife and a Desert Eagle and Richard's Colt 6520 Delta elite.

A lot of stealth would be required and Carib would need the nimblest in his group. Inne would have been prime choice, but it was more likely she be the likeily canidate for helping the Vipers back home.

Richard was coming, no questions their. Sam or Ved, he didn't care if either were coming.

Roadrunner would want to come and Carib would have little objection to that. The petite Fortune teller had a way of alerting them to danger, and that would come in handy.

"So, any voulenteers?"
 
"Yeah, I'm in for the ride. Chances are they'd lock him up in that vault he's been telling us about, so you'll need someone handy with electronics. As for more violent things, I won't be as useful for a while." Richard said as he slowly moved his left arm a bit. Sam had popped it back into the socket, but the arm would be numb and painful for a while.

"Besides, we still need to play that game of yours Carib, I kinda lost count." Richard added. In reality he really couldn't care less who of them both was the better killer. For him it was pretty clear the Carib would come out on top without any problem, but Carib seemed to enjoy the innocent rivalry. He would allow him to have his fun.

Richard was curious as to whom would sign up to go free Dwemer. Hell for all they knew, he was dead already. The only evidence were Tarot cards from the little gypsy. Any other day, Richard would've called himself insane to base his actions on random luck and a deck of cards...
 
Zeke pulled a small medkit from his pouch and with a pair of tweezers took the .22 that was in the meat above his hip and flung it to the ground. He also disinfected, and bandaged the wound.

I'll go to the vault with you guys. I am in need of some new equipment anyways and where better than a storage facility of old crap.
 
Roadrunner removed a third card from the deck, seeing a shadow of a man adorned all in black, with a dark fedora hat casting a sinister shadow over his visage. He held a rolled cigar to his shadowy face and a pistol was held behind his back in the other hand. She smiled.

"I will go with you Nuka Cola Chaser. I must help the Champion. I owe him my life."

Carib smiled, "Glad to know honor still exists in this god forsaken land. Welcome aboard, Road. Zeke file in." Carib said, giving a genuine smile to the petite gypsy and muted approval to Zeke.

"The cards are in our favor..." Roadrunner whispered. Taking her revolver she spinned the barrel. In the small satchel, she had some bullets. They were a bit odd since they were gold plated.

"Whats that for?" Richard asked. "Kinda expensive way to kill somebody, eh?"

"No... No Richard. It means more then that." Carib began, recognizing the symbolance. "Back when I was a child, my grand father told me, the only way you can kill a demon is with a golden bullet. I reckon Roadrunner has that idea. Though I think she aims for a particular demon, right?"

"Yes, one can only kill devils with gold. I was told by the cards I'd have demons to slay. And one is here."
 
"I've heard about killing werewolves with silver and fighting vampires with stakes and garlic. But I don't believ..." Richard said before ending his sentence abruptly as he reflected on the days past and the gypsies true predictions up till now.

"I'm a man of science..." Richard mumbled in doubt.
 
OCC-
Just a heads up. If you guys desert the Vipers, they will probably lose.

IC- The doctor waited until the stranger had left. But with the strangers, one never knew.

But the doctor head learned one thing- the strangers could not read minds.

He checked the fluid that had been dipping into Dwemer's body. The wound had lost blood and there had been tissue and muscle damage, but much of that had been repaired. The man would walk with a limp for awhile, but he would not only live, but get past that.

That the man was unconscious had more to do with the drugs the doctor had given him, less with the wound or dehydration. But the strangers didn't know that. Probably because the strangers seemed to care about little except the damn hole.

Quickly he injected Dwemer with a syringe and soon Dwemer's eyes twitched and opened, slowly focusing.

Before he could say a word the doctor spoke. "Speak softly or not at all. I don't know if we are being watched."

"Where am I?" Asked Dwemer. Last he remembered, he had been outside the Rover fortress and there had been a bright light.

"You are in the belly of the beast." Said the Doctor, "From which no man has escaped."

"Vault 15?"

The doctor nodded. "They brought you here because they think you know something. Something precious. It is probably the only reason you still live."

"They plan to torture me." It was more a statement. He could only guess why, to find Vault 13.

"I assume so. They have shown more interest in your than anyone else who's been here. I'm grateful. Otherwise I would be down below." Said the doctor, thinking about the mineshafts driven below Vault 15.

"I'm need to find a waterchip and get out." Said Dwemer.

"I wouldn't know anything about any waterchip. I do know that your chances are slim the longer you stay here." Said the Doctor, knowing his chances were few as well. "Once they find out what you know, your fate will be sealed."

"What are they?" Asked Dwemer.

The doctor shrugged. "They're not human. Something else. From below us. I think that's why we dig. They aren't what we know. Its as if they don't really exist."

Dwemer said nothing, waiting for the doctor to continue.

"When I first came here there were a few Vault Dwellers still alive. They're all dead now. Except those that escaped. I come from East of here, a place by a large clean lake. But I talked to one of them, the originals, when I came here. Down in the mines."

The doctor was thinking about the dark cold and airless shafts below. Cave ins were frequent, some just ran out of oxygen. But mostly the strangers worked them until the body was broken and exhausted, and died.

"The Vault Dwellers had dug deep into the earth. I don't know why... But they found something the likes of which I've never seen. Something so old. Long before the war. Ancient and alien. We found a city, a tomb. Maybe it was a prison. SOmething that wasn't supposed to be found. And they released them. And the more we dig, the more become released."

To Dwemer it sounded like the man was suffering from a dream. Strange delusions.

"But they want the other vaults? Why?" Asked Dwemer.

"Maybe because there are more of them out there waiting to be released." Said the doctor. "We can talk no more."

Dwemer felt a sting, and his eyes suddenly lost focus, and a moment later he had slipped into unconsciousness.
 
OC- Ok Ivan, you're in. Remember that you are a slave, you have lost all your gear and have been there for awhile now, digging in the caves at an archeological site- a lost and hidden structure of tunnels and crypts. Don't look directly at the strangers.

IC-

The doctor checked the vitals. THe man was again as if in a coma and would remain that way regardless of what the strange ones would do.

But the man was in danger the longer he stayed there. He needed to be hidden.

The doctor stepped out from the medical wing and called to one assistant. "We need to move the body."

It was a password that had been arranged at. The assistant nodded and left.

An hour a large man entered the medical wing.

"Is that him?" Asked Ivan.

The doctor had changed out of his garb and was now dressed as a worker. He would try to blend into the slaves below until they were ready to move him.

The doctor nodded. "Take him below with the others."

It was common to bring the bodies of the dead below for the feeding. Deep in the caves, where they had found the crypts and the tunnels, there was a large deep pit where the bodies of the dead were tossed. Something down there, something large and cruel, slithered and oozed. And whatever it was, it ate well.

Ivan nodded. He too knew the instructions. He would hide the body below in one of the places the slavers knew. Than, when the body revived, they would make their plans.

He had lost his weapons, his companions, and even his hope, but Ivan was still alive. Down below, where the men, women and women toiled and bled and died, they would not give in to the strangers, they would not surrender this one man. They might all die in the process, but they would protect him.

Ivan picked up the body of Dwemer, who had been placed in a large canvas bag, carried the large man over his shoulder, and slipped out of the dark and dingy med lab.

The doctor spared one last look at the dingy lab, it's computers mostly broken, it's stores mostly gone. Vault 15 already looked like an abandoned grave. The only ones living were far below in the mines, and they had not much longer to live. This was a curse place, already teaming with rats that fed off corpses, and even mollrats and pigrats, that fested into the place as if drawn to the body of a corpse.

They might all die soon. But they still had enough life to rebel. Their resistance might be their death sentence, but at least they had the ability to still choose to die with dignity.
 
OOC- Thank you.
IC-


Slowly, the large man grumbled to himself. It was a good natured sort of grumbling, the kind someone might do when they were heading back to work. To the slavers, it seemed as if the large man was "special", but this wasnt so. Ivan was happy yes..but he was happy because he knew things would change very soon, oh yes. Blood and guts and all that...he almost quivered with anticipation. Imagine, the people in the Vault HATED the sunlight..and yet here he was, trapped below the surface toiling and longing for it. Would any sane man not find that ironic?

He moved on, past checkpoints of armored guards and towards what he whimsically called the "memory hole". The named seemed fitting, drawn from an old book he had found once and adequately described what occured. You went down there, you might as well be just a memory to the Surfacers. Down, down the carved steps and past rusting iron he slipped, down to the land of eerie torches and eerie noises, always hunting for relics of the past. Plastic, steel, others. All memories in the Memory Hole.

"Whistle while you work..do de doo doo doo doo DOO" He spoke as he went past the leering guards, head down of course and putting on a forced friendly smile like always. Had to be the crazy one, always the crazy one. Better to be thought crazy than stupid.

"Crazy Ivan..." One muttered to his friend, shaking his head. Working in the mines would make almost anyone crazy. One reason they let the crazy man live was because he was as strong as he was insane. That was saying a lot, actually.

As he got out of sight, Ivan took the third passageway, following the instructions to the time. Yes, there it was...the little niche carved into the stone, the mark of the pickax on the stone in the shape of a small X, hardly noticeable to any but the most astute of observers. Running his hand over the cunningly covered surface, he pulled out the chipped rock along the bottom, revealing a small niche with almost a treasure trove to the slaves. Small bits of military rations, an actual flashlight, a shaped piece of metal with rags on the end to form a crude knife. Treasures beyond compare. Treasures unfortunately that weren't his to touch.

"You better be worth all this, comrade..."

He spoke in a harsh whisper, laying the canvas bag inside and unsealing the zipper. He removed the bag, propping the man up at least into a reasonably comfortable position. The man would revive soon enough, and awaken to find the prepared note amidst the safe haven in the rocks.

Ivan continued on, taking the bag with him as he grabbed the prepared carcasses of the pigrats and rats, filling the bag with the flesh and the blood. The wretched think stank like the abyss, but it would be convincing. With a look of satisfaction he tossed the bag off to the side, to tumble down the chute to feed...whatever it was that lay down there. He would be damned if he was going to find out himself right now.
 
"I'm helping the Vipers, you guys go and find Dwemer."

Vedpose turned back to the group and waited to see if she was the only one willing to stay.
 
Zeke was ready to go and he turned to Vedpose."Ved I am going to go help get back Dwemer. And you Carib...........lead the way as you see fit I am right behind you.
 
"Okay ladies and gents: assholes and elbows, lets move out." Carib barked the order like a rabid sergeant instructing his troops its time to get out their kick ass.

Carib led the way into the path of shadows, slithering through the night. He expected the raiders were going to be a lot more cautious and weary, and most likely shot anything they didn't recoqnize.
 
Dwemer woke up slowly, even with the superstim.

"Where the hell am I?" He muttered.

"In the tunnels of Hell." Said Ivan with a hint of humor.

"The strangers?"

"Don't know where you are, not yet. If you stay still they might not notice you. Not that many of them and they don't always come down here. But usually you can feel them?" Said Ivan.

"What is this place?" Said Dwemer, his eyes not yet adjusted to the dark.

"The tunnels. They got us digging up their coffin and their buddies, though I have no idea why. Not sure why the Vaultdwellers did this in the first place." Said Ivan. "Or why they want you?"

"No idea what they want with me either." Said Dwemer. "I just want a waterchip."

"Waterchip? Those are only good for vaults." Said Ivan.

Dwemer didn't say anything, not sure how far he could trust this man. Was it a trap?

Ivan waited for Dwemer to speak, but realizing the man wouldn't gently laughed. "I wouldn't trust me either. But if a waterchip is what you want, you will have to go up to the Overseer's chamber. Might find one there. But it's the only way up."

"I need to get it." Said Dwemer.

"No doubt. But to get it means you have to get out. How do you plan to do it." Said IVan.

"With my fists if I have to." Said Dwemer.

"You'll die in the effort."

"We'll die anyway."

Ivan thought about that for a moment. There was a crude logic in it. "That's a good point. Ah what the hell, no one lives forever."

And so the two began to spread the word to the other slaves. There would be an uprising, and though they may all die in the process, it would be a glorious way to die.
 
OOC: Been a while.

IC:

*A few moments ago*

"Of course I will help the Vipers! Hell, I gave my word! Asides, I dont think they will make it if we dont help them!"

And so, as Carib leaves with the others, Inne was in silence. She did not wait to watch, though: Instead, she and Vedpose prompted into action. They started on their way back to the Vipers village.
 
The word drifted about the miners that the doctor had been last seen screaming in his office as the strangers went in. But when an assistant went to investigate, there could be no trace found of the doctor.

"No doubt we'll find bits and pieces of him in the pit." Said the man named Ivan.

"The man who helped me." Said Dwemer.

"Yeah. The first who will be sacrificed." Said Ivan. "I hope you're worth it."

Dwemer didn't say anything for a long time. He felt shamed. People were dieing because of these things, the same things that had tried to kill him and would no doubt have tortured him if they could to get out of him his secrets. What secrets? The location of Vault 13?

In light of all those who had died, of all those that had risked their lives to bring these creature down, his ambition for the water chip seemed trivial. Maybe it was better if the waterchip broke and the inhabitants of Vault 13 finally left their sanctuary and rejoined the world.

People had survived outside the vault. That much he knew. Once the knowledge came back to the Vault, others would want to leave. The hold of the overseer would begin to slip away, his reason for control would erode until he was just a tired old man trying to grasp at the power that slipped through his gnarled old fingers.

Dwemer thought of what Melvin had said, that the man couldn't be trusted, that this was a one-way trip. Secretly Dwemer didn't believe it. The people were safer in the Vault, protected in its sanctuary and secrecy.

But one day they would have to emerge from their cocoon.

"What are these things?" Asked Dwemer.

"Not from this world." Said Ivan. The big man had been leading Dwemer down into the shafts, and the deeper they went, the stranger it became. Strange metals and object, buried in dirt and stone. Symbols written in a strange alphabet. "We need to blast this stone it's so damn thick."

"What are you using to blast?"

"Dynamite, C-4, whatever we got." Said Ivan who let out a tired sigh, "They bring in the explosives with the slaves. But we don't set the explosives. For that they use their own people. Don't trust us and killed anyone who might have known how to use it."

"I know a little about explosives." Said Dwemer.

"That's good of ya, because we got the goods if you got the skill." Said Ivan.

"But I don't know architecture or mining. Wouldn't be sure if we were planting it in the right place."

Ivan nodded. "Good thing we got a lot of explosives just in case you do it wrong."

"How long would it take for you to plant?"

"Hopefully not so long as they find out about the explosives or they find out about you." Said Ivan. "Only problem. Anyone down here gets buried down here. With them."

"So we should try to get out before we blast." Dwemer added.

"IF we can. Whatever happens, we need to bury these fuckers and keep them buried."
 
Looked to the man with a curious gleam in his eye, almsot as if he was gauging the worth of this man against the deaths of those he had already helped to kill..and would continue to kill.

"The explosives are obviously crucial, however what do you exactly plan on doing to lure the majority of the slavers down here at once? Only an uprising of sorts would cause most to get off their collective asses...yet any who participate are in a veritable suicide mission."

He sighed heavily, shaking his head.

"I know it may not mean much to you, but a lot of these people are...friends, shall we say. I refuse to see them killed in such a manner, choking under dust and ash. We need to find another manner to lure the scum. Perhaps if we can plant some of the extra explosives furthur down the tunnel....knock some of the supports of the upper levels, and rile up the creature below. Then we get the fuck out of the way as they go investigate why their damn table wont sit straight, and blow the tunnel behind them, locking them in with the monster. Poetic justice, no? They dont trust us to check the supports, and it wouldnt be the first time they send teams down the stairs to check on the creature. After all, they take bets on which one of us survives a week and guard duty is very boring supposedly. "

Looking several ways, he sneaked out a small and somewhat greasy looking cigarette with a grin.

"Victory smoke...I intend to use my last one once we get out of here."

He light up, drawing a long puff of satisfaction as he leaned back against the wall, looking to the newcomer.

"We lock the party in, rush the guards and damn, we might have a chance of fighting our way to the upper levels."
 
Dwemer nodded. "Either way we are going to have to rush the surface. ANywone down here is lost. With enough explosives we drop the roof in."

Ivan nodded. "First a blast below to drag them down. Then we rush all the way up."

"When we get to the overseers chamber we can set the last of the charges and collapse everything below."

Ivan nodded.

"Either way a lot of folks are going to die." Dwemer said.

"Most of these people are half dead already." Said Ivan. "To be honest, I would be surprised if a half dozen of us get to the surface. Not when those things unleash on us."

OCC- Remember, just to gaze on the face of a stranger can burn your eyes out. They don't die but dissolve into the ground. And they are amazingly fast and strong.. This will be a bloody fight.
 
Ivan silently led Dwemer towards the next alcove, where a dirty tarp plastered with mud and grease concealed the explosives. Mostly Semtex, as well as some manner of industrial explosives. Each carefully wrapped in wax paper and tied off to protect it from rot and decay. Ivan stood back, grinning despite himself.

"Merry Christmas"

He stamped out his cigarette, running his hand over the wrapped explosives, fingers almost trembling. he had been down here far too long, and he was ready, hell EAGER to get started.

"We can run the explosives at night, when the rest of our people are pretending to sleep. We took a few stims earlier on, so we wont be dead on our feet. Its your job to trigger the explosives though, as you're the supposed expert. We will make sure the structural points are gone."

He stepped back, throwing the cover over the explosives once again. It blended in damn near perfectly, here with such terrible lighting. A few stones in place and it wouldnt be disturbed.

"Almost everyone is with us. The ones who arent...well...they will be sleeping a long time. Enjoy the fireworks."

He chuckled, a strange grating sound as he coughed, he was shaking his head.

"Bad air down here." He said simply. His face was grimy and somewhat pale, starved for light.
 
Melvin might have enjoyed the walk but for the bullets whizzing past his head.

The Vipers abandoned their makeshift camp a few hours after the raiding party and slipped out for their attack. Melvin had been removed from his tent and had watched as the remaining Vipers had broken camp and packed in the space of only a few hours. Cooking pots packed on wagons pulled by Brahmin, Brahma hide tents broken down and neatly stuffed, all in military like precision.

They had carried Melvin on a stretcher because those carrying for him thought the bumpy ride woudl be too dangerous, the jarring travel would break open his wound and renew his bleeding. On either side two Viper girls followed him, taking care of his every needs and flirted with him without shame.

Mevlin was saying,"I told my boy Dwemer that when performing cunnilingus you can't do it like it's a cheese burger, ANd that shit about the letters of the alphabet don't sell..." when the first shots were fired.

Some had fired prematurely or perhaps the ambush had been spoiled, but the Viper caravan had stumbled into the Rover response force. Three of the Brahman fell, slowing down two of the carts. Those that remained quickly moved the Brahma into a circle, a makeshift fortress. To Melvin it was the western films of pre-apoc america with the indians circling the encircled wagon train. Except this time he was in it.

The Viper party, a few men who had stayed behind, children, women and the old, grabbed what weapons they had and took cover. Most of the Vipers were armed with only spears and knives. There was only one rifle for ever four Vipers, and the Rovers were using modern weapons.

Bullets tore apart one of the carts until it was little more than sawdust. In the middle of the circle the brahma grew nervous and knocked over a woman, trampling her underfoot. The smell of gunsmoke stirred the animals.

Melvin could see little being on a stretcher behind the steel wheel of one of the carts. A girl near him took a bullet and fell over, and he grabbed for the rifle and gave it to someone else.

"Where's the radio? We got to call them in to tell them we're being hit."

_______________

Further away at the outpost, the battle had reached a close with the Rover scouts either killed, captured or routed. The raiding party had little time to celebrate their victory but were already digging in hold their position against the inevitable attack.

Then they heard gunshots. From the sound of the gunfire it seemed the engagement was along the route between the captured outpost and the VIper camp. Loud barking automatic rifle fire and short reports from rifles.

The radio buzzed.

"Alex! Alex! This is Petra. We're being ambushed. They massacring us! We need help!" In the background they could hear the gunfire over the radio. The same gunfire that they heard coming from the Southwest.

The group around the radio watched as Alex reached for the radio.

"What is your position?"

"We're about a mile from you, but they got us pinned down. We're taking hits and their tearing us apart."

Inne said. "They are hitting your women and folk to draw us to them. They are baiting us out of a defensive position by preying on your vulnerabilities."

It was unclear if Alex was listening. "Petra, what is your situation?" He asked through the radio.

Petra's disembodied voice came rapid fire. "We're in a clearling, the carts are encircled and we are trying to defend. But they got us outgunned and they got elevation against us. We're taking losses."

Roadrunner had come in to hear this, and was laying her cards. "Its a trap."

"And what if we don't take the bait?" Asked Caribe.

"A massacre." Said Roadrunner.

No one doubted the fortune teller's prediction.

Alex gave one last message. "We're coming to get you. Hold on."

Alex quickly called his people together. "Fall in! Our people are under attack. We're going to rescue them."

Roadrunner watched them, knowing that this meant they would not go to Dwemer's aid. She drew another card. "The fate's are sealed. We cannot help Dwemer, his immediate destiny is foreclosed." She drew another card, and said nothing. But one need only have looked into her eye to see that her heart had broken.

She looked to the others. "IF we do not help them, they will all be killed. And Dwemer's fate is already decided. We should help the Vipers now and perhaps later we can find our comrade."
 
The revolt began with a low roar from deep in the bowels of the earth. And even as the first charges exploded the first slaves began to die.

At first the strangers thought something had gone wrong in the blasting, that some accident was jeopardizing the dig. Such accidents would not not go unpunished.

But as the strangers began to descend into the hellish tunnels created by their doomed slaves, they were suddenly confronted with a surprise. Resistance.

The poor, exhausted, weakened slaves rose up, with shovels and picks and axes and died in large numbers. At first the strangers were caught by surprise by the onslaught and the first strangers essentially disolved into vapor and the strange blacks substance as stone hammers fell into their bodies.

But the suprise was short lived. At one point a stranger revealed it's visage to a group of of humans. A moment later the group fell, their eyes burning in their sockets. In another, a stranger tore men apart with its bare hands until be brought down by a mob of humans.

The strangers were stronger. They broken mens bodies with their hands, and tore them limb from limb in mechanical fashion. They brought no weapons down, for they had never needed them before. They stood tall and together and swept the humans before them like bears tearing apart rats.

But there were too many rats. As a bear might crush a dozen rats under it's heavy paws, even a bear can be brought down with enough numbers. And like rats the humans were driven in their onslaught. Behind them, in sequence, the tunnels collapsed as explosions thundered up from the depths in a slow chain reaction towards the surface.
 
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