Corva empty, the Hearts in residence, Mayor Golway dead and the
threat of yet more Super Mutants to come was all too much to think about
before the sun had even risen.
Abigail had understood the necessity, but it had not made waking
before the dawn any easier. The lack of light waiting to pierce her
retinas was little consolation. She had staggered through the routine of
rising and dressing without even enough presence of mind to curse the
lack of water to wash in. She was too tired for that, and with no
promise of a long, hot bath to soothe her aching muscles it had been
easier not to dwell on her personal hygiene at all. There had only been
room in her mind for one thing at a time right then, and that had been
put towards overcoming her physical inadequacies for the sake of the
battle ahead.
That was why she put up no resistance when Sharn, Christian and
Celia sat her down and placed a glass of Brahmin milk and some rat-meat
sandwiches in front of her. She felt no more desire to eat now than she
had done for the last two days, but managed what she could without a
quarrel when her friends led by example.
It surprised her just how much gossip filled the Seven Feet Under
clubhouse as people slowly filed in. Considering that some of them might
not live through the day their spirits were unexpectedly high. Just 30
hours ago the trained warriors in her caravan had come over quiet and
contemplative at the prospect, but now with a town war on top of them
chatter flew left and right, like a flock of birds out to alleviate
their worries with flitting gossip and good humour.
It did not seem in particularly good taste, considering all those
who must have died already, but even Abigail seemed to lack the maudlin
shadow of anticipation that had clung to her recently. Being so close to
the fight, what was left but to try and eat breakfast and hope
everything went well? She would not wish for good luck, because hers had
always been a double edged sword, but perhaps Fate would smile on them.
For all their faults, they were the good guys after all.
As proven when Simon, the young twin with the pistol at his hip and
a rifle hanging from his shoulder, pulled up a chair and sat himself
down in the small gap between Sharn and herself.
"Hey, uh, Abby, right?"
It surprised her that he would want to speak to her when people like
Kyle and Hickman were around, but she nodded.
"Uh, I don't know the story here, but Trev and me thought you ought
to know, after what the guys over there were saying. Chopper spent the
night with the old Mayor's daughter. As in, 'spent the night'."
That was a surprise. Not that such a thing had happened - the rumour
had reached their table twenty minutes beforehand - but that he had
thought to try and break the news to her was touching, in a funny sort
of way. She cracked a small smile.
"I know. What she does -and why- is her business. But thank you,
Simon."
"Oh. Okay. It's just they were talking about you two, and... Anyway,
the Mayor's daughter was starting to talk about who should fight where,
and even Rathley agreed that Chopper would be going with you."
Again, that made sense to Abigail. "Yes, I expect she will. I
suppose that we are used to working together."
"Yeah, but you aren't even *talking* right now. And, well, *you're*
still sick."
Abigail didn't have a good answer for that one. "... Maybe, but I
can still shoot. Even if I can't hit anything, it should scare the
Hearts."
"And Abigail has reason enough not to give Chopper the time of day,"
Sharn added, standing up for Abigail without hesitation.
Abigail didn't disagree. "Don't worry, Simon. She's not nearly the
person I thought she was, but I won't get in her way."
"But can ya' trus' her to do the same?" Christian asked from across
the small table. "Tha's importan' in a gun fight, Abby."
Abigail lied. "Yeah, I think I can." Truthfully, she really didn't
know though. If she couldn't trust Chopper with her heart, could she
trust her with her life?
At least Chopper seemed to have understood Abigail's anger, and gone
back to Erin. Maybe that would make being around her easier.
***
By the time the sun had started casting its harsh orange light into
the sky every one of Erin's insurgents was already well awake and fed,
and the plan of action had been decided. Though close to the Cobalt Line
Corva was not a small town, and so their force would be split. With the
twenty Corvan natives added to their number they could cover a lot of
ground, separating into five teams that would sweep through the northern
side of town and then down to converge on Main Street. It would leave
the damaged south side unchecked for enemies, but would at least mean
that they could clear the way to take back the police station that
Jackhammer had commandeered for his gang without worrying about attacks
from behind. Once he and his Super Mutants were gone they could go south
and finish the rest at their leisure, but the police house would likely
take a concerted effort to reclaim, and the less time Jackhammer had to
prepare for them the better.
Abigail's team was the largest, and possibly the best equipped, but
in contrast they would be taking the most direct and conspicuous route
through the town. Their first stop would be the pump house, and then on
to Market Street, securing the way for the two westward teams to meet
them at the T junction of Market Street and Main Street.
Since Market Street would be the most open route, and therefore at
most risk of an unexpected fire fight, Chopper was the natural choice to
be assigned to it. The rest of Abigail's group followed, being used to
working together as a team, and Simon, Trevor, Kirren and Vas joined
them to make sure that if they were caught they would have an
overwhelming advantage in firepower against any normal raider patrol.
Maintaining the element of surprise was of utmost importance, so
Rathley, Kyle and Vas would be the forward line. All three of them were
skilled at both hand to hand combat and stealth, the aim being to ambush
and take out as many raiders as possible without alerting the town with
gunshots and starting a shooting war. One or two bullets they might be
able to get away with - for all the Hearts knew one of their own might
be having a bad Psycho trip - but more than that and it would be obvious
a battle had broken out.
"And the rest of us?" Abigail asked, trailing behind the group with
Sharn and Kirren as they weaved their way through the ghoul quarter.
"Backup," Kirren replied, her face set in stone and her voice low.
"If it starts sounding like a war out here we need to be ready to give
them one. The Hearts are only careless when they're off guard, and we
need to be ready for that. They're rash, yes, but if they're drugged up
or kamikaze crazed they can afford to be."
Kirren gave her another look. "Are you sure you're okay to fight?"
Abigail guessed she must still look as bad as she felt. "... I can
still hold a gun."
If she hadn't been so concerned about her trembling hands her knives
would have been an even better option. They were silent, as long as they
were precise enough to both hit their mark and kill him on the first
throw.
That would have been a gamble at her peak though, so she doubted she
could manage such a feat right now. Better to leave the killing to the
professionals. What a grim thought.
***
Sitting smack bang in centre of Market Street's northern end,
looking down almost the entire length of the town, the pump house was an
exceptional vantage point for a rifleman such as Sharn or Simon, but
made for a mediocre ambush position at best. Rathley wouldn't even have
considered it worth bothering with, if it weren't for the fact that the
raiders had to drink in lieu of the absent water caravans.
Water traders were often close to criminal themselves - few made
better extortionists in the desert - but against the raider gangs it was
safer for them to join with the other caravans and avoid such trouble
altogether, rather than risk getting shot by a pissed off ganger who
didn't like their price.
So, if the Hearts had no choice but to come then Abigail's team had
to decide how to make the most of their advantage. A sniper's position
would only be worthwhile to take down any raider lucky enough to escape
down the street, but they had people to spare and Sharn was more than
happy to lie on the roof out of the way, hoping no-one would have to
call her upright.
Everyone else would have to hide either in the small pump house
itself or within sight of it, which was tricky when it faced out into
Market Street.
Chopper and Trevor were not armed for anything but a full on fire
fight, and Chopper looked uncomfortable as ever being on the front lines
anyway, so Kyle put them outside the pump house's back door. They could
serve as guards if nothing else, and should things go to pot they could
burst in guns blazing.
Similarly there would only be room for four to be lying in wait
inside, so Kirren and Simon snuck their way into an abandoned store on
the east side of the street. From there they had a good view over the
wrecked carts outside to see the pump house door, and anyone who came
in. Armed with the radio transmitter Abigail had tuned up they were the
first watch, and again they could lay down covering fire to help the
main attackers get clear if need be.
Abigail realised what that meant, blood draining from her already
pale face. She was left waiting inside with Kyle, Rathley and Vas.
"K-Kyle, I don't think I can do that." It was a whispered
confession, and one that he had to be expecting, but she couldn't bring
herself to go against his plan while everyone else was still within
earshot behind the pump house.
His crack-toothed smile might not have been able to win her heart,
but it could still make her weak legs tremble when he turned it on her,
no doubt whatsoever on his face. No wonder Sharn was so content most of
the time.
"I know you're still hurting Abby, but let's face it; you know how
to get your PipBoy and the radio to work together, and I've seen you
fight with those knives. Rathley and me can probably handle this
ourselves," which earned him a dark snarl from Vas, "but if you could
run up and stab a super mutant, you can stab a raider. Have a little
faith in yourself."
"But I don't," Abigail replied, genuinely scared that *anyone* would
have faith in her to fight right now. "Kyle, when things go wrong around
me, they go *really* wrong!"
"Bullshit." Those who were left in the alley looked to Chopper,
standing against the wall, already in her position by the door. "Sooner
or later that excuse is going to get old."
It was the first thing Chopper had been given the chance to say to
her in days, and it made her blood seethe behind her eyes. "Don't you
dare say anything," Abigail hissed, trembling.
"This isn't the time, Chopper," Kyle admonished, but Chopper seemed
not to care about his opinion in the least.
"It's the perfect time. We're going into a fight and she's getting
superstitious."
"Shut up!"
Abigail found Chopper staring her dead in the eyes, and her
breakfast churned in her stomach as the conflict focused squarely on
her. "These guys are putting you right on the firing line, Abby. Say
that the ghost of your little Alfred does show up. Whose fault will it
be that you were there?"
Abigail wanted to glare back, but against that stare she couldn't.
And no, this *wouldn't* be her fault if it did go wrong, but sick or not
she had to make sure she didn't screw it up, for everyone's sake. All
she had to do was tune in and monitor her PipBoy. She might not even
have to use her weapons at all.
She stood silent waiting for someone else to say something. They
didn't. No-one else knew the story, and she didn't want to tell them.
Instead Chopper turned away and opened the door. "So get your ass in
there already."
Vas chuckled as the four of them filed in. "Lively lot."
Rathley gave the bounty hunter a grin. "You have no idea, Sugar."
***
Sat in the shadows either side of the closed doorway, Abigail, Kyle,
Rathley and Vas waited. The green glow of the PipBoy's screen
illuminated Abigail's sallow face as she counted each and every second
that passed. Every now and then Simon or Kirren's voice would crackle
out of the computer's speaker, bringing them all to sharp attention, but
for twenty agonising minutes there was no call to ready themselves.
Kyle and Rathley stood hugging the left wall. They would be spotted
first, but both seemed as relaxed and professional as Abigail knew them
to be. She was crouched opposite them. She would have a knife in her
hand eventually, but she was to stay down until everyone had made their
moves, and even then her role was just to surprise anyone Rathley or
Kyle struggled with. Vas had toppled an old filing cabinet to give
Abigail her niche to hide in, and was now perched on it, looking
alternately bored and anxious.
Eventually the whispered call came, Simon's voice only just above
the static. "There they are. Four Hearts, and six townspeople."
They had people with them, to help carry the water. Fuck. Obvious,
but not anticipated. Of course they had people serving them. They'd
taken over an entire town.
"It looks obvious who is who though. Only the Hearts are armed that
we can see. Two with spears, two with guns."
A terribly pregnant pause.
"Raider with gun taking the door, spears flanking townies behind."
Then the radio static cut out, just as the door opened. Abigail
tried so hard not to make a noise as a pair of heavy leather boots,
festooned with loose buckles, stepped straight past her. A large hand
holding what Abigail could recognise as a 10 mil pistol swung lazily in
his far hand, right next to Kyle's vague silhouette.
"Okay ladies, straight line as usual... What the fu-*hurk*!"
All three of the others moved in unison. The light from the doorway
had caught the curved chest of Rathley's metal armour, giving him away,
but not before the unaware Heart had taken three steps in, within the
grizzled survivalist's reach. Rathley's left hand had shot out and cut
off the man's exclamation as it snapped closed around his throat, while
the right had neatly plucked the pistol out of his hand.
Rathley used all his weight to push the man off balance and into
Vas' toppled cabinet. The Heart cracked his head on the wall as he fell.
Rathley let the pistol fall free and grabbed the Heart's hair, slamming
it into the rusted cabinet twice for good measure - *crack*, *CRACK*.
At the same time Kyle had dragged in the first of the townie women
and twisted around as she shrieked, trading places with her so that he
could dash out and into the street, his knife drawn. Whatever happened
then Abigail couldn't see, but a single cry and then the sound of a
slumping body told her all she needed to know. Kyle had been much more
efficient that Rathley.
With the townie woman clear of the doorway and Kyle gone the second
raider guard could see Abigail crouched in the shadows, fumbling for her
blade, and he charged forward, levelling his spear at her. "Fucking
bitch!"
Crouched in the hollow between the wall and the fallen cabinet she
had no way of escaping, but beside her, unconcerned as Rathley beat a
man's brains into her perch, Vas whispered, "Sit tight, Vault Girl."
The raider couldn't see Vas past the doorway, but from Abigail's
reaction Vas knew he was coming, and Simon had told her how he would be
armed.
It didn't stop Abigail from screaming out of sheer fright, but just
as the spear passed through the doorway a thin, all but invisible wire
looped out and suddenly tightened around the pole, forcing it up and
away from Abigail as the man charged recklessly forward. Vas' garrotte
might not have caught the man's throat, but she pulled it up towards
her, bringing the spear with it, until the Heart had no choice but to
follow, staggering over Abigail and the toppled furniture as he went.
Abigail, seeing her opportunity as he stumbled to a halt, pulled her
knife from her pocket and thrust upwards. It was a haphazard strike, but
it dung deeply into the man's stomach. He might have screamed, had Vas
not already freed her wire from his weapon looped it around his neck.
Not that silence was possible now. The captive townsfolk had let out
screams of their own as Kyle had come charging out, not only at the
suddenness of the attack, but knowing that the Heart behind them held a
sub machine-gun in his hands, and cared nothing for their lives if they
were between him and any target he might have. None of the four inside
had been in any position to deal with him, so from her vantage point
across the street Kirren waited until the last possible moment before
taking her clear shot at the man's head. Though only a pistol her custom
made .223 calibre weapon was more than accurate enough, and the loss of
her left arm had not dulled her aim. The rifle bullet hit its target
squarely and the man's head exploded outwards from his left temple,
leaving the body to topple from its suddenly slack legs. Hopefully the
enclosure of the building around her and the noise of the townie crowd
had dulled the sharp report of the shot.
Inside Abigail waited, trembling, until the man above her went limp
before withdrawing her blade. Her attack and the sudden onset of
adrenaline made her nauseous again, but worse than that was the look of
victory and exhilaration on Vas' face. Was that how Abigail now looked
as well, at the peak of a fight?
As everyone emerged, eager to hide the bodies and their newly
rescued townsfolk, Abigail slipped out to the back of the pump house to
finally let her body do as it wished and be rid of her breakfast.
"So," Chopper said, happy to stay put unless her skills were called
for, "none of that blood is yours, I hope?"
Abigail looked over to her, probably looking filthy, before turning
back to her uncomfortable work. "No."
And from the doorway Rathley appeared, sounding amused. "Not too
bad, Sugar. Shame about the scream, that wasn't so cool. But when your
ghost turns up, you shank *him* in the belly too."
That was so typical of him. At least she guessed he was trying to be
nice. "...You're making fun of me."
"Who's makin' fun, Sugar? You ask, and we'll hold the fucker down
for you!"
It was actually a nice sentiment, in a perverse sort of way.
Especially since the pair of them looked like they'd enjoy it.
***
After having waited so long for the Hearts' arrival the debate over
whether to stay or move further in was a short one. Even if Kirren's
gunshot hadn't been enough to bring the raiders running a second company
would be dispatched to find the first sooner or later, but by that point
the Hearts would be alert and ready for any fight they were given.
Instead they dumped the raiders' bodies in one of the abandoned
shops and did what they could to mask the bloodstains from Kirren's kill
before retreating back into the alleyways behind Market Street and
moving on. The captives did not seem too worse for wear and had been
sent to hide until the fighting died down. Quite what 'worse for wear'
meant coming from Rathley was anyone's guess, but Abigail had been too
busy throwing up to talk to them, so she took it as read that they were
okay and tried not to think much more about it. Instead she thanked Vas
for saving her life and joined with their troop as they crept onward.
"Likewise," Vas replied quietly, a smile on her tight lips. "You
make for some good bait. You should have seen the look on his face when
it was *you* who gutted him!"
Well, what had the bastard expected? Abigail thought, irritated. If
he was going to try and kill her then she would return the favour,
especially after everything his gang had done to this town and its
inhabitants. The visceral memory of the knife pulling in his stomach
still made her feel ill, but she had experienced much worse already.
At the other side Sharn, Kyle and Simon were similarly distracted,
finally having got the chance to congratulate Kirren on her shot. It was
one any of them could have made, but it was Kirren's timing as well as
her aim that drew their appreciation. Sharn had been too late in getting
a bead on the man, while Kyle had not seen him for the crowd of
screaming prisoners in his way.
"You could have beaten me to it," Kirren replied to Simon in equal
parts modesty and chastisement. "I could have missed."
"But you had him. I'd have shot if you'd missed, but we're supposed
to be keeping quiet, right?" And he spoke as a junior Merc to a
professional fighter. Kirren was the more experienced shooter, even
though she had preferred rifles to handguns in the past.
"I didn't leave much room for error," Kirren admitted. "I'm used to
shooting at my leisure."
Across the town, from the eastern side, the sharp crack of gunfire
broke through the sluggish morning air. First one shot, then another two
to finish the job.
Their group may have been the first to fire that morning, but
clearly they would not be the only ones.
Everyone halted, waiting to hear some sort of alert or rallying cry.
Once again it didn't come.
Kyle huffed, almost disappointed. "Either these Hearts are all hung-
over still or they're the most unconcerned sons of bitches I've ever
fought."
"You'd prefer to have them breathing down your neck right now?"
Chopper asked.
"After they went to the trouble of getting *all* their camps
together to take over this place? Yeah, some sign that they care that
we're here might be nice. It's creepy, not knowing if they've cottoned
on yet."
***
They had. The Hearts did not need a chain of command to stir them
into action as long as at least one raider had a decent head on his
shoulders and the initiative to follow up on a shot coming from so close
to their only supply of water. For all he knew it was another attack
from some of the few remaining town fighters who had not fled, died or
been forced under his boss' thumb. There had been no sign of a fight
beyond a bit of bloody dirt, and that was hardly unusual, but whoever
they were causing a ruckus it was probably safest to kill them anyway.
***
The wide alleys behind Market Street were becoming more and more
battle scarred as Abigail's group pressed further into the town.
Occasional bullet holes pock-marked the clay or metal hut walls, and
every now and then they would come across an overturned cart or stall,
dragged back into the alley to provide a makeshift barricade.
There was even a body still lying in the street, at least a week of
sun having dried it out and leaving just a stagnating husk. Either it
was a warning, or just a show of utter unconcern that the man had even
bothered to take up arms against the raiders.
"Poor sod." Trevor said from the front of the group, looking down at
the dry body.
Then from behind the next building a bald man strode into view, clad
in faded dungarees and heavy boots. A breastplate fashioned from some
sort of insect carapace adorned his chest, and a battered double barrel
shotgun sat in his hands, already pointed squarely at the lot of them.
"Yeah, doesn't it just kill ya'?"
After the ominous silence his appearance alone was enough to make
all of them bolt. Abigail ran back to hide behind a broken, top-loading
washing machine that was parked out in the street, but few of them were
so close to cover.
The shotgun blast that followed blew Trevor clean off his feet. A
gaping hole in his side bled out in an elegant pirouette of gore before
his body hit the dirt and rolled to an awkward stop. That alone was
enough to freeze Simon in his place, screaming his brother's name, and
Kirren yanked him into the passage that led out to Market Street just in
time for a bullet to catch his shoulder instead of his windpipe.
In seconds Chopper and Vas joined Abigail behind her washer,
crowding her for what little cover it afforded. There was no way for
either of them to advance or retreat enough to make it to an adjoining
alley - they had both been at the rear with Abigail - so the three of
them cowered as the Heart's second shell slammed into their meagre
barricade.
"Christ," Vas swore, tearing her pack off her back and pulling out a
revolver - much smaller than Abigail's but obviously well kept, "I never
even saw *one* of them!"
Two shots rang out from further forward as someone fired back, only
to be answered by the second crack of a rifle.
"One on the ground, a shooter on the south west roof..."
Chopper nodded, stooping over them both. "Two more at least. There's
another barricade in the right alley. These fuckers knew we were coming.
They were *waiting*."
Vas huffed and pulled a machete out to go with her handbag pistol.
"Right, they're mine then. Cover me when they start shooting again."
Chopper nodded, her face hard. "Cover I can do."
What they had planned Abigail could only guess at, but she followed
their shared resolve, her nervous fingers wrapped around the grip of her
own chosen gun. "Just scare them back, right?"
Vas gave her a querying look, but any talk of in-depth tactics would
have to wait. The deafening boom of another shotgun shell signalled Vas'
dash, and instantly Abigail was up on her knees, her pistol in her hand
and firing haphazardly at the Heart with the shotgun. Her mix of
ammunition evidently did its job because her first, louder shot of
heavy-packed ammunition made the raider jump back a full three feet, and
though her shots went wide the raider fired back at her in pure reflex,
ignoring Vas as she sprinted across the street and taking his aim off
his original target altogether.
It felt like forever as the gun kicked backwards in Abigail's hands,
threatening to tear off her fingers in her weakened state, but the flash
of the shotgun's muzzle aimed squarely at her made her realise that she
shouldn't have stayed up to shoot a full four bullets. The lethal spread
of buckshot reached their washing machine just as Abigail was yanked
back down behind it, and she gasped as she hit the ground. She didn't
know whether that shot had been on target, but if so it had been a close
thing.
"Watch your bloody head before they blow it off!" Chopper yelled at
her, sparing her a brief, irate glance before her arm stretched out over
the washing machine to spray ten millimetre bullets up towards the
rifleman on the roof. His careful aim at Kirren, Simon and Kyle had been
shaken only for a moment, and only now was he forced back behind the lip
of the roof.
Abigail frowned back at her. "What do you care if they do?" It was
spiteful, and petty in the face of the lead that was flying across the
intersection, but damn it she was still angry and it made her feel
better after almost being killed twice today. It was even worse that
Chopper had been the one to pull her back.
The look that she got in return dissolved all that bile like a
copper coin in a canister of hydrochloric acid. "Of course I fucking
care!" Chopper roared, her eyes ablaze with fury. "If you're going to be
out here then pay a-fucking-ttention, or else you're going to get
yourself fucking killed!"
Abigail sat there as a few more shots rang out, and from somewhere
around the corner a man screamed in the background while her brain ran
circles. No-one had ever shouted at her like that, and it had shocked
her into a very uncomfortable silence.
"Now pull yourself together. The others have their hands full
crossways," Chopper said, motioning to the cross road of alleys that the
others had scattered into, both towards and away from the barricaded
raiders. "That leaves this one to us as long as he doesn't circle
around."
With that said she popped her head up just long enough to see that
the shotgun wielding raider hadn't re-appeared yet, but she ducked back
again to deny the sniper a shot at her. "Soon, or else he's bolted.
Three... Two..."
Abigail swallowed whatever she was going to try and say. She had no
comeback yet, and they had to kill this man before he killed anyone
else.
"One!" They both appeared, Chopper from the top and Abigail from the
side of their cover, but there was still no sign of the shotgun wielding
Heart. In fact, all that was left was a rifle report from the roof
*opposite* the Heart's building, and the sight of the raider slumping
over the roof's edge.
"Clear!"
The voice was Sharn's, coming from that opposite roof, and one by
one their company filed out into the street, wary for more incoming
Hearts but looking pleased. Vas clambered over the eastern barricade
grinning like a loon, an empty pistol in one hand and a very bloody
machete in the other. She was already festooned with her spoils, while
Rathley appeared from the far end, his fists bruised and bloodstained.
"What happened to our 'no shooting' policy guys?" he joked. From the
wall behind him the shotgun Heart's body slumped, beaten to death.
The rest of them just got to play as distractions this time. Kirren,
Kyle and Simon appeared from behind their meagre alleyway cover just as
Abigail and Chopper did.
Their victory was tarnished when Simon slumped down beside his
brother's blasted body, his own right arm hanging low on his bleeding
shoulder. "God... God damn it!" The young man wept, his good fist
clenched in his lap. "I'll kill these fuckers. I rip their fucking
hearts out! Bastards."
Abigail couldn't help but sympathise with the boy's loss. There was
a cruel symmetry in losing his brother in the same fight that was
supposed to be their revenge for their father.
"I'm sorry, Simon."
But unfortunately there wasn't time to mourn. These raiders at least
knew what was going on, and had somehow anticipated their movements.
They needed to get to the junction of Market and Main Street quickly,
and hope that the same did not happen to their other teams. If the
Hearts had not been reporting a shootout to their boss at the police
house before, they certainly would now.
However, it was not only the Hearts that came out of the woodwork
after such a showdown. Guns were quickly drawn again when two large men
walked straight into their path as the group left the scene of the
shootout, but nervous trigger fingers were kept in check long enough for
them to recognise the men.
"Jassic? Bason? You're alive."
Jassic gave them all a huge, bearded grin, and they both let out the
breaths they'd held. "Damn right we are. And we got to you lot in time
if you're doin' somethin' more than wanderin' around waitin' to get
jumped. This way, quick, before more of those broc-heads get here."
"Nice to see you too guys," Kyle said, "but we're on a time limit."
Bason just kept smiling. "Trust me, if you lot are here we're with
you, but you'll want to see this. The Hearts might have got hold of
Steph, but they didn't get her stash!"
***
Sitting at the third floor window of the police station Stephanie
Brown hoped for the hundredth time that was what had happened. In the
week since her capture she had seen hide nor hair of her remaining
friends, and while the Hearts had not treated her as badly as she had
first feared, neither did they keep her informed of what went on
outside.
Hers was the old upper floor arsenal, cleared out by the Raiders and
now containing only her tools, a work bench and a dusty old mattress for
her to rest on. Apparently she was of some value to Jackhammer, as she
hadn't been 'invited' to their many sex and drug parties on the lower
floors. He said he didn't want her coming over 'all emotional' after a
bout of mass rape and throwing herself out of the one window that her
cramped room afforded her. Instead she was kept locked there to work on
the weapons that he brought her, and to his credit - and her misfortune
- he knew a rigged gun when he saw one. She had lost the use of two of
her fingers after she had tried that, and now the shattered digits sat
wrapped together on her left hand, their constant throbbing reminding
her that misbehaviour would not be forgiven.
If the Hearts had managed to find the contents of her shop she was
sure the vile man would have come to crow about it - he was a braggart
beyond compare - so hopefully it was all still safe and unclaimed.
Though many of the more potent munitions had been disarmed there were
still enough guns, ammunition and ready explosives to satisfy even
Jassic's hunger for wanton destruction. And likewise, if her captors got
hold of them...
Even the Brotherhood of Steel would be given a run for their money
if that were the case. Especially on top of the weaponry the Hearts
*did* still possess.
The only question was what took everyone so long. Surely not all her
friends had been killed, and they could not flee and leave her there to
rot. Likewise, Erin couldn't have abandoned her town. Not even after
Jackhammer had killed Mayor Golway. She shuddered at the memory,
Jackhammer carving up the man's body like a Brahmin carcass in front of
the entire, defeated town.
No, Erin was more determined than that. More single minded. She
would want revenge. Even if the Brotherhood wouldn't come until their
Leaders decided it was 'worthwhile', Erin would be back as fast as she
could be.
A couple more shots rang out across the town, and Stephanie dared to
hope that her ambitious friend might have arrived already. Just as she
had hoped the day before, and the one before that; every day since she
had been dragged into that cell.
A loud click from behind her signalled another visit from her
captor, and she pulled her sheet closer around her shoulders to cover
herself. Though he hadn't touched her, Jackhammer still said that her
body ought to be appreciated, and his 'appreciating' eyes made her sick
to her stomach every time he visited her cell of a room.
Even Manny, scary as he was, was preferable to this man. Hell, he
was *nice* to her.
"Stephanie, my dear. Wearing a dreary expression as ever."
Jackhammer was not tall, not imposing, and not even particularly
muscular beneath the belted-together sleeves of cured leather that
passed for his armoured shirt. But he was smart, manipulative, and
ruthless.
He smoothed a hand through his slicked back locks of clean brown
hair before depositing a pair of handguns on her table. They were good
guns, right for his build and well kept.
"I've just been told we have a little rat problem out there today,
my dear Stephanie, as I'm sure you've heard. That's what we get for
punishing a town that's so fond of the things. But we'll have to put
them down sooner or later. Apparently a few of those rats have
reputations that precede them, and teeth to match."
"I hope they bite your arms off."
Jackhammer gave her a disapproving look, though nothing as hard as
Stephanie tried to give him. "That's not nice, Stephanie. I suggest you
do as you're told, because this isn't repair work. I'm giving you a
choice this time. I don't often give people choices."
He pointed to the pistols. "Pick one, and re-fit it to fire 14mm
rounds."
To fire what? Stephanie frowned. "I can't. With all the work
required you might as well just buy a 14mm gun to begin with..."
Jackhammer's face contorted into a roar before she had finished
speaking. "DON'T refuse! I *have* 14mm guns, Stephanie dear." This time
the sycophancy reeked of razor sharp, threatening sarcasm. "I need
something that *isn't* 14 mil shooting those bullets, and I need it
quickly. You tell me what *you'll* need to do it, and get it done by the
time those rats poke their heads out of their holes, or I tie you to
that table and fuck you until you bleed. And I know you don't want
that."
Oh God, I can't give him what he wants, Stephanie thought. Her
breathing began to quake, and she tried very hard not to let her limbs
do the same. "It... It would just be a hacked up 14 mil with a new
chassis, slide... A proper hybrid would take days."
To her fearful relief Jackhammer's expression dissolved back into
affable good humour. "A quick, *professional* hack-up would be fine, as
long as you put your heart into it. Call it more a matter of showmanship
if you like, but it needs to be special, dearest Stephanie. After all,
your best friend in all the world has come to visit - even bringing the
cavalry with her which I told her would make me very unhappy - so just
think how she'd feel if it wasn't one of your special guns that blew her
pretty little brains out."
Erin! That was who it had to be. Jackhammer knew about their
friendship - it was why he had put so much effort into making sure he
got hold of her alive.
I'm sorry, Erin, she thought as she shakily told Jackhammer what she
would need to do the job. I have to do it. But please get me out of
here!
***
Another burst of gunfire broke Abigail from her reverie. An
automatic rifle of some sort, way to the west of Bason's unassuming
home-come-storehouse. That was the sound of another full on ambush, and
she could only hope that her side were the ones doing the ambushing.
"Are you okay, Abby-girl?"
Sharn's kind, often energetic voice sounded tired, but Abigail was
glad to have someone distract her from the snowballing worries that
roiled inside her head.
"Yeah. I'm fine."
Wow, that was a shock. No self-defeating honesty came from her, even
though her own voice was tight. Just a nice, comfortable white lie, and
a forced smile, and suddenly Abigail *did* feel a little better.
"I feel bad for Simon," she admitted, looking at the boy - nearly a
man - loading up a huge pistol from the wardrobe that Bason and Jassic
had been so eager to show them. He had done all his silent mourning for
now, and instead wore a mask of cold, calculated recklessness. She
worried that his own safety was now secondary to his spilling as much
Raider blood as he possible could. "Is he going to be okay?"
Sharn clearly had doubts herself. "Hopefully. We don't ask things
like that until the fighting's over, but we'll try and look out for
him."
"Good."
Next to all that, Abigail's last few days of ineffectual muscles and
chronic self-deprecation looked pretty pathetic, whether she had the
excuse of withdrawal or not. It was strange how the worst that the
wasteland had to offer had that effect on her.
It didn't feel like a desensitisation, though that must have been
part of it. Nor was it just a matter of perspective, or thrill seeking.
She didn't *like* any of this. She just kept running forward anyway,
letting the adrenaline carry her, afraid that her inaction might be what
cost her something precious. Perfectly normal for the athlete she had
once been; without instant reactions and trust in her body's own split
second judgements even a back flip on stage might have caused her a
nasty injury. Perhaps she was too used to relying on her instincts when
she couldn't trust her mind to pull her through.
She had decided not to take anything from what remained of
Stephanie's stock. She already had more guns than she ever hoped to use,
and more ammunition than she would have time to re-load. She didn't know
what she could do when they did all get to the police house either. She
was in no fit state to make a charge, nor was her aim good enough to
take out the Hearts who might be shooting from within. She could provide
cover, and a distraction, but she had decided that those making the real
assault were the ones who would need their pick from the small arsenal
stashed in Bason's closet.
Bason didn't entirely agree though. He had been one of those few who
had offered Abigail a genuinely friendly smile during her first weeks on
the surface, and he offered it again now as he approached her, a
bandolier in hand.
"Hey Abby. Not joining us? I wouldn't blame you, with the way you're
looking, but it would be a shame."
"I- uh, I don't know how much use I'll be," Abigail replied
honestly, "but I won't stay behind. Maybe I can help cover you going
in."
"That's the Abigail I remember. Though I didn't think you liked
guns?"
She shrugged, owning up to the friendly accusation. "I don't think I
can afford not to have one any more. And they're actually kind of
interesting. On the inside, I mean. When they aren't killing people."
"Well, when Steph wanted to clean out her stuff so the Hearts
wouldn't get it, I saw these, and you know what? I thought it was a
shame you weren't around to use them, with the arm you've got."
Abigail looked down at the oversized leather belt he held. Six
pockets adorned its front, each holding a smooth, dark grenade, flecked
with scratches but immaculately clean. Abigail immediately backed up a
step.
"If you don't want them I'm sure we can hand them out, but frankly,"
Bason admitted in earnest, "if I wanted anyone hurling these things
around me, I'd be the girl who could take on a giant mutant with
*throwing knives*."
***
True to Bason's word the detour had only cost them a few minutes,
and the ten of them reached their rendezvous in silence. While they had
not encountered any more raiders themselves the reports of shots across
the town were becoming more frequent and prolonged, and the hushed
consensus was one that now favoured speed over strategy.
The Hearts would be ready for them regardless, but the longer they
waited for their reinforcements the greater their chance of being caught
by more roaming Hearts, and of giving away their location.
Instead they made the dash across Market Street and up Main on their
own. If the other groups made it to their rendezvous then they were
capable enough to do the same. In the mean time Sharn, Kyle and Rathley
could scope out the station on their way east, since the place towered
over every building around it.
"Ugh, it's crawling," Kyle groused, once he had returned from their
first good look at the front. Two Hearts stood outside the main door and
another six sat around in the courtyard playing cards and roughhousing.
There were at least another five he could see inside the building's main
hall, through the open double doors.
"You expected anything less?"
No-one had, but they glowered at Rathley anyway. "Of course not,"
Vas challenged, clearly unused to Rathley's brand of wit. "But we can't
make a charge if that's the case, and we can't win an attritional block
war if they have machine guns and explosives. We should have gone up
behind them, not up the street opposite!"
"And I told you that they keep the Super Mutants stationed there!"
Kirren hissed back. She pointed to Jassic and Bason. "They've been here,
they know. Right?"
Jassic nodded. "It's not like we haven't tried that one, girl. You
don't want that minigun pointing at you when you've only got two feet on
either side of you to move, and a thirty foot sprint to your target. At
least out in the open we can get about, and there's cover in the caravan
yard."
Kirren's plan wasn't popular with the newcomers, but it wasn't hard
to understand. "So, use a grenade or two to reduce their numbers out
there, then split into your teams and make a run for the courtyard. By
the time they've recovered - or realised they're under attack and got to
the windows - we should already be in a good position, and we can start
the real fighting from there."
"And this mutant thing? What about that?" Simon asked.
"If you can see him, empty your gun," Kyle replied. "And pray he
doesn't get to return the favour."
"Go for the eyes, hands and joints," Bason added. "The first one
could suck up lead like a sponge, but we *did* slow it down."
"Fine," Vas replied, looking argumentative and turning her
frustrations onto Abigail. "Then the question is, can you get a grenade
into the middle of them from here?"
Abigail looked back at her, wondering the same herself. It would
have been easier if her arms hadn't felt like lead. "... I can try."
"Atta girl." Bason patted her on the shoulder, and Abigail felt a
little of her confidence return. "Let's do it then, while they're still
only half-expecting us."
***
It was an easy throw really; no more than eighty feet across the
street and into the courtyard where the Hearts were playing. The problem
was that Abigail had never played softball while sick, and the hard
metal orb in her hand weighed at least twice as much one of those.
There was little time for hesitation though, and as much as it
worried her the pin came away with only cursory resistance. Standing
there in the slim alley between two buildings, only the Hearts' own pre-
occupation kept them from spotting her, and the two men on guard *would*
spot her soon.
But for that moment the only worry in her mind was, 'Don't drop the
grenade. For the love of God, don't drop it!'
She didn't give herself time to. As soon as the pin had left her
fingers she began the windmill in her right arm, hoping that the burning
ache in those muscles was proof that she was putting enough power behind
it. Then the thing was gone, flying fast in the familiar shallow arc
that she used to see so often, and Abigail flattened herself against the
side of the house on her right. One of the guards saw the little metal
bomb as it soared past his field of vision, and he ducked back into the
doorway with a strangled cry of warning, but the Hearts in the courtyard
merely looked up from their games to see it hit the ground not five feet
from their table.
The scream of "Grenade!" was cut short as the aged, temperamental
chemical timer ran out, and with a deafening *BANG* the entire caravan
yard was showered in metal, blood and splintered wood. All six of the
raiders were hurled from their feet or their chairs, slammed into the
air like screaming rag dolls to be shredded by fragments of metal. Five
landed as nothing more than bloody, broken cadavers, while one unlucky
man remained conscious, deafly screaming through sudden tears of agony
as he came to rest in the dirt.
It was over in seconds, but the morbid sight didn't fade from
Abigail's vision. Blooms of blood first, far finer and more powder-like
than Abigail had ever seen on the big screen, only to be replaced with
the steady crimson spread of ruptured, pumping arteries when the smoke
cleared.
She was not left to stare for long. With the deafening explosion
past she began her sprint, slowly overtaken by Kirren and Vas while
Bason caught up to her, the four of them heading for the right side of
the yard. There was no sound of gunfire for what seemed like an age as
they dashed across the empty, open street, until the sound of Sharn and
Simon's rifle shots from behind let them know that not only were they
were being covered, but that the fire fight had begun.
It was Kyle, Rathley, Chopper and Jassic who ran for the left. There
was the main door to the building and the gory mess left behind by
Abigail's grenade, but it also held the most cover in the way of carts,
crates and rubble from the destroyed walls and signposts that had
surrounded the place. They were either the most effective up-front
shooters, or had the means to slaughter men en-mass should the Hearts
swarm out too quickly.
Abigail was in no fit state for a straight fire fight, and likewise
Vas and Kirren worked best when they could attack from a position of
strength or secrecy. As such they sprinted for the wall at the far side
of their companions, where they could flank without drawing too much
open fire. The police station's proximity to the other buildings on that
side meant that for anyone to see them they would have to lean bodily
out of the windows to look down, and if they did then Bason's shotgun
would make them wish they hadn't.
More important was the Super Mutant who Kirren said was permanently
stationed *behind* the building, out of sight but with easy access to
the both the alleyways and street. The plan was that the ruckus caused
by Jassic, Rathley and Kyle would draw him that way, and then Abigail's
group could attack him from the rear as he went to meet them.
The four of them hit the side of the building at full tilt and
quickly dodged around into the alley. A rifle shot hit the ground just
beside Bason as he puffed his way there, but it was the only one to
worry them. The Hearts had yet to start pouring from the building, so
there was little worry about being followed, and instead Bason turned
his eyes upwards to the two floors of windows above them. "Eyes open
girls. Go to the back as soon as you hear Jassic's gun!"
He didn't need to tell Kirren, who already had her .223 pistol
pointed up, lining up a shot at each window in turn as she advanced.
Abigail followed suit, pulling her .357 out and holding it close to her
chest. It wasn't as though Kirren and Bason wouldn't get them first if
someone did try to spot them, but if it was more than one..?
It was quiet for a moment. The sound of loud groans and whimpers
echoed around the building from the Heart who bled out deliriously back
in the courtyard, and they could hear the hurried footfalls, whoops and
cursing that came from inside. No-one emerged from the windows though,
and those raiders who did appear from the doorway at the front emerged
cautiously as far as Abigail could hear.
Maybe Kyle's group had hidden better than they had expected too, if
the Hearts weren't firing from the upper floors again.
The respite was brief, and a rattle of automatic fire echoed around,
followed by the cacophony that was Jassic's automatic shotgun. Abigail
dared not think how many people were falling victim to that sound.
Chopper and Jassic clearly fired long enough to exhaust their first
magazine or drum of ammunition, while Kyle and Rathley carefully picked
off their targets while they fled or ducked for cover.
"Okay, go, go," Vas hissed, impatient at the two more diligent
Mercs. "If they were going to pop out they'd have done it already. We've
got a mutant to kill."
Easier said than done, Abigail thought, but kept that to herself.
Instead she followed her companions to the rear corner of the station
and waited for Vas to peer around.
"...Holy mother fucking shit. It's huge."
Abigail felt her delicate stomach knot. "I told you."
More importantly, "Is it going for them?" Kirren asked, in the same
hushed, urgent whisper.
"Yeah, but it's not in any hurry. And... it's either smarter than
you said, or it has orders, because it's going to make this hard for
us."
Abigail joined Kirren in peeking out, and just as Vas said the
Mutant was armed and armoured up, but instead of trudging away to join
the battle it dragged a weather-blasted dumpster out and up against the
wall, open and facing them at a 90 degree angle to the wall, so that it
filled most of the alley.
"It's making cover," Kirren said, perturbed.
Abigail couldn't see the problem. "So we can use it, right?"
"Sure," the punk haired Merc replied, "but either we have to shoot
over the whole thing or get inside."
Abigail was about to ask why, but looking at it she could see at
least some of the problem. The heavy clay wall by the side of the
dumpster looked like a stray breeze would knock it over, making it a
risky proposition to duck there, and the back of the dumpster was much
higher than the front, allowing the lid to lie at an angle when closed.
She guessed that would make it harder to shoot over, and even she knew
that getting inside the thing made fleeing impossible.
"It'll be bad enough if the Hearts realise we're back here already,
with that above us."
Looking up there was a metal gangway twenty feet up, and another
twelve feet above that, which must have made for a useful fire escape or
rear exit for the upper two floors.
Kirren seemed glad that she had taken note of it. "We want an easy
run back here if they decide to use it."
"Yeah, I get it."
The Super Mutant never did spot them, pre-occupied as he was with
his work before turning to join the fire fight at the front. The battle
seemed to have calmed down, no longer dominated by rapid fire, and the
greenish monster was probably going to rectify that.
Then Abigail had a simple idea. "We could get up there."
Vas frowned at her, "The gangway? You have a ladder in those
pockets?"
"We could jump it," Abigail replied, defensive. "From the dumpster.
Then *he'd* have to run."
"Or he could turn his gun on us and we'd be stuck up there," Kirren
pointed out. "But you think you can make it up?"
Abigail nodded. As long as the metal wasn't too sharp, and as long
as her arms still had strength enough to pull her up, she could make it.
"Yeah. I've reached higher bars before."
Kirren glanced at the Super Mutant again, thinking fast. "Vas, can
you make that?"
"What? Are you kidding?"
"And I doubt Bason can."
The large, bearded man looked back to them quickly, and shook his
head. "Two attacks, you think?"
Kirren nodded. "Yeah." Then she turned back to Abigail. "The
question is, can you pull *me* up once you're there?"
Now that Abigail just didn't know. She could try, but if she dropped
her... falling back down onto the wall of that dumpster would do more
than sprain Kirren's ankles. But there was no time to worry, or even
think about it. Their quarry was already retreating. "I can try. I mean,
I think I can."
"Then that's the plan. Vas, Bason, you take it on from behind, we'll
go up. It'll give us a vantage point and, more importantly, another way
inside."
With that Kirren bolted out from behind the corner, and the rest of
them followed. With all the gunfire ahead of them it was easy to sprint
behind the dumpster without drawing any attention.
"Okay, Abby. Up you go. Bason, if he even twitches our way, put some
buckshot into him."
Abigail braced against the front wall of the battered skip while
Bason hunkered down beside it. As she'd expected it *hurt* to push
herself up and bring her feet to its metal lip, but despite her wobbles
she got there, and perched for a moment to re-train her balance before
carefully, very carefully, standing up. One large step forward over the
yawning metal mouth and she was fully exposed should the Super Mutant
turn around, but she was a full foot higher on the back of the dumpster.
She wobbled again as she looked down, but the other three were not
watching. Their eyes were focused firmly on the monster that slowly left
them behind. It was at the same time both a relief and a little
disappointing.
No time for her ego, she thought, and instead took one step back on
her thick balance beam. Then came the crouch, low and controlled, with
perfect balance this time, and them with an almighty effort she poured
every bit of energy she could into her legs, and launched herself
upwards. Two handed she might not have made it, but reaching up as high
as she could her right hand caught the metal cross beam that made up the
walkway's edge, and there she hung. She was breathless, and felt as
though she had just been stretched apart on a rack, but successful!
"Excellent!" Kirren whispered from the ground. She tucked her pistol
securely into her waistband. "Now get up there. Vas, if you aren't going
then at least help the cripple climb up there!"
Below her Vas did as she was told, guiding the one armed woman
unsteadily onto the dumpster edge. With someone else coming after her
Abigail put her tiredness and discomfort out of her head, and swung her
legs forward so that her arms had enough leverage to curl and pull her
up onto the walkway.
She lay there for a moment, gasping for breath, swearing silently
that she would never touch any kind of stimulants again. She had been an
acrobat once, and now look at her! Panting on the deck after a simple
pull up. It was pathetic.
She rolled over and looked down. Kirren stood precariously on the
lip of the dumpster, Vas keeping her upright since she lacked both arms
to steady herself, but it was clear that with all the will in the world
Kirren couldn't step to the other side and simply reach up. She'd have
to come up from there, or not at all.
"Kirren! Jump, and give me you hand."
Looking up Kirren didn't question her. She just tensed for a moment,
and then leaped like a frog on a hotplate. Her arm flailed with far too
little direction, but Abigail reached down and caught her wrist with
both hands. Kirren's weight pulled her arms taught against the walkway's
edge, and the meeting of floor and support gave out an audible clang,
but Abigail couldn't worry about that now. Kirren had no second hand to
reach up to the edge with, so all Abigail could do was focus on lifting.
Bason's shotgun fired, the Super Mutant now aware of their combined
gymnastics, but the threat was drowned out as Abigail hauled Kirren up
hand over hand until Kirren could grip the edge of the walkway for
herself. Abigail's arms burned, but she looked down and shouted over
Bason's shots. "Hold on, and I'll pull you up."
"Don't make me wait too long," was Kirren's worried reply, but
Abigail forced herself to her knees and instantly had Kirren's wrist in
her hands again, finally pulling her up onto the metal deck. Thankfully
the metal had not been rough edged, and aside from the hurried exertion
neither one was worse for wear.
"Damn, this was a crazy idea," Kirren said with a smirk as she
hauled herself to her knees, and then her feet. But, tired as she must
have been already, she drew her pistol from her waistband. "Let's go!"
But as she turned to run down the walkway after the Super Mutant,
and Abby merely looked from where she sat panting for oxygen, the
hulking creature was not advancing on them now, or even readying the
minigun that it clutched in its right hand, but instead its arms were up
to cover its head, and it was making an elephant's run backwards, away
from Bason's shots and into the courtyard.
"Damn it!" Kirren spat, instantly levelling her gun down at it and
putting a pair of bullets into its tough forearms before the monster
retreated out of sight and into the courtyard. "It thinks it's safer out
there?"
"It might be right," Bason replied from below. "It has nowhere to
hide either, without its cover. But we can fight it from two sides now."
Then his hand pointed up, behind Abigail and Kirren, to the upper
windows. They had been conspicuously absent from the station's first
floor, but since the building was a full two floors higher than anything
around it the windows from the second and third floor looked out from
all sides over the town.
"I'd say we start getting stuck in." Bason smiled and gave them both
a wink.
And why not? They stood a better chance of being able to help inside
the place than stuck taking cover in the middle of the gunfire out
front.
***
Compared to their climb up getting inside was no effort at all.
Abigail pulled open the door and stepped through with her gun in hand. A
single raider sat at the end of the corridor, evidently having abandoned
Abigail's group in favour of taking pot shots at Sharn and Simon on the
roof across the street.
The man died before he heard Kirren's first footstep. The high
velocity bullet pitched him forward on his knees, and his body toppled
messily out of the window to bleed on the street below.
Abigail grimaced, still trying to rub some feeling back into her
arms. "Good shot."
"Thanks."
The police station was a big building, being that it sat over its
own auditorium, and the one corridor on the second floor seemed to wrap
around inside the outer wall. Doors to their right led inwards to
barracks, storage or planning rooms, while windows to the left looked
out over the town, giving those inside a perfect defensive position.
Perfect until Kirren appeared in there with them, and turned four
shots from her lovingly butchered rifle into three clean kills, with a
fourth round just to be sure about the woman at the far end, 150 feet
away. She and Abigail paused in anticipation, but none of the doors
sprang open to disgorge a new horde of raiders. Either they were all out
and fighting already, or Kirren's shots sounded close enough to a
rifle's so as not to alert them that anything was wrong.
It gave the pair a few precious seconds to advance before the Hearts
at the far end saw their slain sister and realised they were under
attack from within. The pair ran to the first door and leapt in, Abigail
opening while Kirren swept the room with her gun. There was no-one up
and armed, so they both ducked inside and out of any line of fire from
the corridor.
While Kirren reloaded her gun - a feat that she made look simple
using only five fingers and her right hip - Abigail noted the figures
huddled against the far wall. The room *wasn't* empty, but at the same
time it was clear that these six were no raiders.
Even so, it was a chance that Abigail couldn't take, and her gun was
quickly pointed at them. "Who... who are you?"
All five raised their arms, two letting out weak screams as they
did, while the woman furthest forward slowly stood up. She was dressed
like a townie, though if possible she smelled even worse.
"Don't shoot, please. We're not Hearts! Really!"
"Pets then?" Kirren asked, already positioned to head back out of
the door, but sparing them a sympathetic glance.
The woman didn't look happy with the name. "Just get us out of here?
Please? That's why you're here, right?"
Abigail didn't have the heart to admit that saving any hostages
other than Stephanie had never occurred to her. "Yes. That's right.
Just... stay here, and we'll come back for you, okay?"
Instantly one of the women behind their spokeswoman broke into
tears, and the young man next to her tried very hard not to follow suit.
Maybe they didn't believe her? "Honestly," Abigail insisted, putting her
gun away altogether. "We *will* come back."
"Abby," Kirren chivvied, knowing that the Hearts would be bearing
down on them by now.
The brave woman at the front nodded. "Make sure you kill them at
least. We've been here long enough."
Abigail nodded before scooting back beside Kirren at the door. The
Merc already held the door handle though, and had her ear pressed to the
wood. "Grenade, about thirty feet. On three."
Abigail's eyes widened, realising that Kirren wanted *her* on the
attack this time. She left her pistol in her pocket, and pulled another
metal orb from her bandoleer; the second of six. She briefly worried
that she couldn't inflict that kind of violence again, not after
watching the broken bodies and the blood first time around.
"Three..."
But only briefly. These people were attacking her. They had all but
destroyed this town, killed Erin's father, kidnapped Stephanie, shot
Albert, and she didn't want to imagine what they had done to the
captives behind her over these last two weeks. The Hearts were going to
die, and they deserved everything they got until then!
"Two..."
Abigail pulled out the pin.
"One!"
Kirren jerked the door open less than a foot, and Abigail slipped
her arm out, tossing the grenade gently and blindly down the hall in the
same swift motion. Someone down the hallway opened fire, but Abigail
pulled her arm back in without a pause, and Kirren slammed the door shut
again.
Screams of surprise and fear rang out for a few taut seconds, and
someone even got close enough to try the door handle that Kirren held
tight, but the explosion put a stop to that. The bang was hard and
sturdy, resonating through the brick and clay of the old building just
as much as it did through their ears, and Abigail's throw must have been
short because the wall at the far corner of the room cracked under the
pressure of the blast. Had it not been supported by the adjoining wall
it might well have been blasted through, and Abigail hoped no-one in the
room next door had suffered for it.
Kirren gave it a moment, listening at the door once again before
finally opening it. The hallways was a mess of blood, settling clay dust
and body parts that had been ripped from their owner. At least one
raider had been close enough to be torn wholly apart, and Abigail
instantly retched at the sight of loose flesh and intestines.
It was clear as well that, while not nearly so affected, Kirren did
not look at the mess, and instead focused on the bodies that were still
whole. One, face down, who had run past their room in a mad dash for the
corner of the corridor, received a bullet, though Abigail didn't know if
the man had been alive or not. She staggered past the carnage and the
broken, pockmarked walls to gather herself. She had nothing left to
throw up now, but it still made her stomach scream.
Still, there was no time to waste though. Kyle, Chopper and Rathley
were still fighting out front, and they were up against that Super
Mutant now. The whining thrum of a minigun outside was unmistakable. She
called to the Hearts' prisoners to stay inside and keep the door closed
- she didn't want them seeing the mess that had been made of their
captors - and she and Kirren marched on.
Still no doors opened, and a brief examination revealed more empty
bunks and rest rooms, but little else.
They did not get to the other end of the building before a new noise
made them pause. Somewhere outside, above them, a keening bleep met
their ears, followed by an almighty *whoosh*. Kirren instantly looked
out of the windows, and Abigail followed suit.
A trail of smoke with a rocket at its head flew through the air
above them. Abigail felt her pained stomach drop. It crossed the street,
weaving slightly as it went, angled downwards and headed straight for
the roof opposite.
"Sharn!"
In same moment that the cry left her lips she could see the two
figures on the rooftop rise and flee backwards, but a second later the
rocket hit and a vast explosion erupted from behind the lip of the roof.
"Oh God," Kirren swore, her voice low and quiet. "Abby, come on, we
have to keep going and end this quickly."
"Shit!" Abigail swore again and blinked away the tears that flooded
her eyes. She took off running down the corridor, her legs burning,
Kirren only a step behind her. The Hearts couldn't do this to them! It
wasn't right, and Abigail was going to make them pay for it even if it
killed her! And she hoped with all her might that Sharn and Simon were
still alive.
***
Outside, the eruption of smoke from within the station was a welcome
sign of progress, turning even the Hearts away from their fighting to
see what on Earth had just happened. Few of them had a decent view of
the front side as they fought in the east end of the caravan yard, but
for Kyle, ducked behind the carcass of an old weather-beaten cart, it
signalled a turning of the tide. The Hearts, at first so hesitant to
appear from the entrance, had now swarmed out in droves, and he and his
companions had not been able to kill them fast enough to stem the flow.
Worse was the Super Mutant, burning through ammunition like a flame
through its kindling, unable to pick them out behind their cover but at
the same time not letting them attack. Vas had managed to join the fight
again, shooting from inside the hulk a pre-war car that rested against
the back wall, but Bason was still stuck in the rear alley, and the rest
of them were too often pinned down behind their flimsy cover.
Rathley took the sudden distraction to empty all four shells of
buckshot in his gun, blowing away three more stunned raiders in the
process, but for the rest of them the boost to morale was enough.
Even better was the sight that met Kyle's eyes when he too had
emptied his gun and ducked behind his slowly shrinking wooden shield.
Across the street charged five more of Erin's people, the second team to
have emerged from their sweep of the town to converge on the police
station. Hickman ran for what he was worth, led by his point-man
Charlie, and three others from the resistance force. Hell, was that
*Lyster* of all people, running with his uzi clutched protectively
beneath his cloak? Kyle would have guessed that he had fled with the
first deserters from the town, slimy coward that he was.
Evidently the man deserved more credit than that.
There was no time to stop and ponder such things though, and Kyle
poked his head back up, his pistols loaded, only to be met with the
sight of the smoke trail that lanced out from the station to Sharn's
roof. He stared only until the explosive impact, then turned away in
that instant, without having fired a shot.
There wasn't time to think about it now. No time to think about what
had just happened to his lover. No time to imaging what her bloodied,
broken body might look like. She was smart. She'd have seen it coming,
and she'd have got clear.
And if he didn't snap out of this and survive then he'd never find
out, and it would be Sharn who'd have outlived *him*. He popped back up
and with a cry of rage unloaded both his .44 Magnum and his 14mm in only
three seconds. That was another four hearts fewer between him and his
girl.
As he turned back and knelt to reload yet again that black cloak
swirled past him and came to rest by his side. "You cover for me when I
reload!" Lyster barked, before taking Kyle's place above the broken edge
of the cart and unloading three erratic bursts of lead into anyone he
could see. The man flinched every time a shot hit their cover, but he
kept firing until his gun emptied itself with a dull metal *thunk*.
"Fair enough!" Kyle agreed, standing back up the second that Lyster
ducked back again. This time he focused on his 14mm pistol, once again
trying to make every shot count. "But I hope you've got ammo, because
we're going to start running out!"
"Fuuuuuck."
It was only thirty second later that the mechanical whoosh sounded
again, and every one of the fighters looked up to see the angled
silhouette of another Super Mutant, retreating back away from the edge.
And this time the rocket he'd fired slammed straight into the
courtyard. Men and women on all sides ducked for cover, but for some
there was no escape. The cluster of crates it hit, filled with
constructions beams and building rails, ruptured like a burst box of
matches. The vast lengths of metal were sent rolling and cart-wheeling
briefly, turning end over end and churning up the dirt before they came
heavily to rest, crushing everything in their path.
If he was lucky, Jassic had been killed by the blast, rather than
his solid, falsely immovable cover.
But there was no time for mourning, or pondering what might have
been. Kyle just had to keep shooting until there was no-one willing or
able to shoot back, and hope against hope that Sharn was there to meet
him afterwards.
And that the giant mutant on the roof had a limited supply of
rockets, because he doubted any of them would be able to stop him from
firing another.
***
Abigail and Kirren caught sight of the second rocket impact as they
reached the stairs, at the far side of the building from their
improvised entrance. The final east facing window gave them a first
class view of the gout of fire and crash of falling metal that ended
Jassic's life.
"Bloody hell!" Kirren exclaimed, reigning in her voice as best she
could and pausing briefly to try and gauge how many had died in that
blast. Not many by the look of it. "I wouldn't look Abby. That wasn't
pretty."
Abigail tried to take her advice, but she had already seen enough
that the warning was wasted on her. In fact, after wading through the
remnants of her own explosives only a minute before Kirren's
protectiveness sounded like the worst sort of condescension. "I know,
okay?! I know. At least he's wasting them, right?" She had never heard
herself sound so bitter before. Not even at Chopper or Rathley.
She reached up to hold the next grenade on her bandolier. "If I have
to use the rest of these they're taking more than one Heart each."
She frowned into the considering stare that Kirren gave her, but the
older woman said nothing. Instead she turned to the stairs, one flight
going up, the other going down. Strangely the sounds of fighting were
louder from *up* the stairs, as the raiders fired from the third floor
windows, but down were the sounds of scuffles and arguments, and the
repetitious mantras of men and women psyching themselves up for the
fight.
"Sounds like they've got the rest of their pets downstairs," Kirren
whispered. "These ones like using human shields when a fight goes
against them. Whole lines of them."
That didn't sound good to Abigail in the least. Not only did the
idea of the Hearts having more human playthings to begin with, but her
body was shot with fatigue and withdrawal pains. She wouldn't be able to
hold a gun to aim it if she tried, and she wasn't about to blow up the
Heart's victims just to kill their captors. "Then... you go down, and
I'll go up. At least you can shoot straight - you won't hit the
townies."
Kirren didn't hesitate. "Okay. Be careful up there, Abby."
And the two separated, Abigail running upwards, and Kirren carefully
inching down.
***
Contrary to Kirren's words, Abigail wasn't intent on being careful
in the least. She had no energy for care, and even before she had
reached the third floor hallway a grenade was in her hand and the pin
had been pulled. She got far enough to see exactly who was up there:
four Hearts, each at a window, evenly spread along the hallway. Two held
rifles, while the others had a shotgun and a sub-machine gun
respectively.
Maybe they were still close enough to the battle, two floors up,
that range wasn't the problem that Abigail had expected.
Maybe it was all academic as her lobbed grenade hit the clay floor
with a *clack* and rolled up to the third raider just in time to blow
his leg apart. Abigail couldn't count on her accuracy, so she had let
the bomb do that for her. The farthest three would be wounded, if not
killed, and if any of them survived it would be her closest target.
When she poked her head from the safety of the stairwell she was
proved right, at least for the most part. Two torn and broken bodies lay
further up the hallway, while the Heart at the far end had been lucky.
His legless corpse of a companion had shielded him from the worst of the
shrapnel, and he sat dazed against the far wall, fumbling for the gun he
had dropped.
More urgent was the woman who skidded and slid towards Abigail, her
fur and skin shoes slipping in her own blood. A small, neat hole had
been punched through her left leg, and thick arterial blood poured over
her knee. Another fleck of metal had grazed her temple, blood dripping
down her face and into her left eye. She still had her SMG in her hands,
and as Abigail reappeared the raider's whimpering babble became a
scream.
Abigail had planned for the survivor though, and though she doubted
her aim with her pistol her throwing arm was not so easily worn down.
She hurled one of her knives, and it only had to travel fifteen feet
before it sank into the raider's exposed midriff. As threatening as the
tribal, chitinous armour looked, it had not been practical enough.
The woman's legs gave out instantly and she fell to the floor, her
gun falling from her hands.
Abigail picked it up.
"N-no, please," the raider rasped through bloody lips. "P-please
don't kill me."
Abigail ignored her for the moment, checked the action on the
automatic weapon, and fired a quick burst at the man at the far end of
the corridor. He had managed to reach his gun, and was clumsily loading
another pair of shotgun shells into it.
Firing the sub-machine gun hurt more than Abigail expected it too,
even given her sensitive muscles. Each shot jarred more than the last,
throwing her already unstable aim off completely. All four of the
bullets missed.
She fired again, missing again, though it frightened the concussed
and injured raider into dropping his weapon again. Her third burst hit,
running a line of holes up the man's chest and finally putting him out
of his misery.
Only now did Abigail look back down at the female raider beside her.
The woman's eyes were glazing over, her bleeding leg lying at an angle
while she clutched at the knife embedded in her gut, lacking the
strength or the will to remove it. It hurt Abigail to realise the only
thought that came to her was that it was such a shame. Underneath the
blood, dirt and ragged hair, the woman was actually quite pretty. Like a
porcelain doll, owned by a spiteful child who refused to care for it.
"H-help..."
The illusion was broken, and Abigail turned away. The gun could only
have a few more bullets in it, but they were a few bullets that might be
of use.
"No."
"I'll do - *urk*... anything."
Abigail growled, staggering away. "You've done too much already."
The sound of gunfire downstairs let Abigail know that Kirren was
well into her own shootout. With this her friends outside should have an
easier fight.
She still had to find Stephanie though, and stop whoever was firing
rockets from the roof. If he had more of them he would be firing another
soon enough, which was far too soon.
More doors inward passed her by, each one being opened and scanned
with her new sub-machine gun before she moved onto the next. They were
much smaller rooms; personal residences, small storage rooms, and work
rooms, but Abigail left those new ones that led elsewhere for after the
battle. She didn't have the time to ransack the building properly, she
told herself. All she had to do was take out the immediate threats, and
get to the roof. Even Stephanie could wait until afterwards, if need be.
Hopefully she would be downstairs, where Kirren could try and ensure her
safety.
When she reached the third door her hopes were dashed when the door
handle flew from her nervous fingers. Two Hearts had been lying in wait,
both with their guns - a shotgun and a 10 mil pistol - pointed right at
her.
Faced with that Abigail did the only thing her body would allow her,
and fell backwards, hoping that she had let her legs give way fast
enough not to get her head blown off. She had at least been on guard,
and fired off the last five rounds that remained in the SMG before she
hit the floor.
The raiders had been just as quick. The shotgun blast missed her
head by millimetres, and she felt the blast on her forehead not because
of the lead - at least she hoped it was not the lead - but from the
force and heat of the blast.
The pistol man had been quicker to adjust his aim, and just as
Abigail's bullets caught them both his own 10 mil round slammed into her
left shoulder, piercing through her leather jacket and her vault suit to
embed itself in her collar bone, fracturing it instantly.
The pain was incredible, but amazingly the aches in the rest of her
body swelled to greet it. Perversely, though it pulled a cry of agony
from her throat and tears from her eyes, it felt like it *could* be
worse.
There was no follow up. Abigail lay there, clutching the wound only
four inches from her windpipe, hoping she could react in time if one of
those sneaky bastard got up to finish her off. They didn't. Nor did any
more doors open to greet the new quiet.
Now that was a miracle. Maybe she was jinxed, but if so then Lady
Luck was willing to take care for her as compensation. Maybe she had
been all along.
She rolled onto her front, stifling a scream as the bones in her
shoulder shifted, and forced herself back to her unsteady feet. The
bandolier over that shoulder was agonising, so it was discarded as fast
as she could without dropping the three remaining grenades. She left the
empty SMG behind and shifted her .357 Magnum into the waistband of her
leathers. As uncomfortable as it was the 10 mil holster at her other hip
wouldn't carry it, and she needed the pocket for one of the remaining
grenades. She still had rooms to search, and the roof to clear.
An explosion sounded from outside, followed by a louder secondary
blast. The first was another rocket, probably, but the second she knew
well, even though she had never heard it in real life before. It was the
sound of a fusion bottle failing, and releasing its miniature nuclear
bomb on to the battlefield. The rocket must have destroyed that defunct
car in the yard, and its fusion cell had still been live. Such blasts
were only lethal at very close range, but it was certainly a larger
blast than the rocket. Someone had just died, surely. Hopefully not too
many someones.
Now she took only as much time as she felt she could spare, but she
had to keep going, throwing open each door before putting herself in the
doorway in case of another ambush, but for two more doors she was met
with nothing. A bedroom, probably the late Mr Golway's, and a small
store cupboard.
The third door however, greeted her not with bullets, but with
words.
"Come on in, little rat. No point dancing around if you've made it
up here. Show yourself or I blow dear little Stephanie's brains out.
Three... Two... one-"
Shit, shit, SHIT! Abigail had no plan, no time, and no energy to
think. Stephanie was here? Now?! She stepped into the doorway, her right
hand on her revolver, half-drawn.
It was just one man, standing in the middle of a small dining room,
the tables and chairs all over turned. In front of him stood Stephanie,
held in place and covered only by a sheet, the man's pistol resting
against her forehead.
"I'll be. I've heard about a girl who dresses like you," Jackhammer
said, by way of greeting. He was sweating, but otherwise not in the
least nervous. "You put our *first* Super Mutant friend in the ground,
right? Looks like blowing through my gang has taken its toll on you
though. Boys?"
What the hell was she going to do now? From the room adjacent two
more Hearts appeared, each with a pistol in hand.
"I'm going to kill you," Abigail whispered. She didn't know quite
what else to do. If there was anything Rathley had managed to teach her
it was that when you're in doubt, convince the other side that you
already know how you'll win. "So give her her clothes back."
Of course, they didn't believe a word of it. This was three on one
against a short, skinny, wounded girl.
Stephanie, however, had been given *plenty* of time to think. She
certainly hadn't expected just *one* person to come to her rescue, let
alone a girl he remembered as a lucky, rather reckless combat novice,
but it was *someone* whose reputation preceded her, and that was more
than enough.
"You can laugh," Steph said, cutting through Jackhammer's amused
bravado, "but you didn't see what she did to the last *Jack-Ass* who
crossed her."
Jackhammer frowned at her, leaning in to growl into her ear and
pushing the gun harder into her temple. "I hope you're not comparing me
to that Diamond *runt*, Stephie dear."
Naturally, both his bodyguards laughed at the apparently ludicrous,
petty comparison, all too eager to speak up for their boss. They forgot,
just for a moment, how heavily armed the girl in black leathers in front
of them must have been.
It took Abigail all of that moment to realise what Stephanie had
done for her, and just what the captive woman was ready for her to do in
that opening. Her left hand wrapped around the grip of the 10 mil pistol
in its holster, her whole side burning as she pulled it free, and at the
same time her right pulled back from her .357 and instead went for her
pocket, and the grenade that sat there.
It all began when Jackhammer's grip loosened on Stephanie's bound
hands again, and the gunsmith rammed her head backwards with all her
might, cracking it against Jackhammer's jaw and making the man reel for
a moment. She knew he had little real intent to kill her - he had been
saving that for the meeting with Erin - so she gambled that the gun at
her head would not go off.
She was right. Jackhammer recovered quickly and merely kicked the
backs of her legs, the gun she had made for him instantly levelling at
Abigail instead.
"Kill her already!" the enraged gang leader barked, furious that the
two men he'd brought to ensure his safety had been so slow to fire on
their intruder when he had been hit.
Their guns *were* raised, but Abigail had been given the few seconds
she needed, and left handed had fired the 10 mil pistol from her hip.
Each shot made her arm scream and her vision swim, but knowing that her
aim would be so poor she simply did not bother, and made up for it with
her rate of fire. At least one of the recklessly fired armour piercing
rounds flew right through the raider's reinforced leather chest plate,
but Abigail's concentration was focused not on him, but his partner who
flanked Jackhammer.
With her good hand she'd torn the pin from its hole with the grenade
still in her pocket, and now she lobbed the bomb hard into the Heart's
face.
Jackhammer stared in disbelief as the explosive smashed into his
bodyguard's nose, throwing off the man's aim yet again. "You crazy
bitch!"
Abigail's only response was to reach for Stephanie as she tried to
make a break for it, throwing her still loaded gun at Jackhammer just to
fluster him further. She couldn't fire it; she'd lost the feeling of
anything but pain in her entire left arm, and she didn't even know if
her finger would still squeeze the trigger.
"Wha.." The Hearts' leader fended off the limply thrown weapon with
his own, but after seeing both him men neutralised simultaneously his
grip had faltered, and Stephanie had already wrestled free.
Abigail and Stephanie careered out into the hallway, and it sounded
as though Jackhammer was following for a second before the explosion
filled the room behind them and peppered the wall with shrapnel.
Abigail came to a slow halt, and then with determination she turned
on her heels and stalked back to the dining room. This time there was a
knife in her hand, but the grenade had done its job. Jackhammer lay
crumpled against the door frame, his back a mess of burns and bloody
pock-marks, while the two bodyguards were similarly sprawled across the
room.
Abigail was glad to see that the searing pain in her shoulder hadn't
been in vain. Along with the blast damage she could see that at least
two of her armour piercing bullets had found their man, and hit him
somewhere in the trunk. Had they not, Stephanie would have needed to
escape without her.
"Abigail?" Stephanie called. "God, are you alright?! You've been
shot!"
Abigail nodded, recognition of that fact bringing back the nausea
that she'd felt so often today. "Yeah. I-I'm okay, I think. Are y-you
okay?" She didn't wait for an answer. Her muddy brain was having trouble
focusing, and there were more urgent things to deal with. "We've got to
get the one on the roof."
With that she carried on down the corridor as fast as her burning
legs would carry her, ignoring the few remaining doors. She only had the
energy left for one more fight, and that had to be the rocket man. If
she stopped for more empty rooms or a last raider ambush she knew she
wouldn't have anything left to climb the flight of stairs at the end.
"Abigail, wait!"
***
The wind was surprisingly strong as Abigail emerged into the
sunlight. The first thing she saw was the town, in its entirety, laid
out before her. That was so incredibly inspiring, so breathtaking a
sight, that she forgot about her pains and fatigue for one brief moment.
The sounds of gunfire had died down somewhat. Either she was too far
away or too run down to hear them, or Kirren had succeeded downstairs
and, with the raiders caught from outside and within, the fight might be
drawing to a close. She didn't consider the fact that the raiders might
be winning, and leaving her few remaining companions little room to
fight back. They were going to win because they deserved to win, and
damn it; she didn't go through all this and end up getting shot just to
have all her friends die without her!
Hoping that the element of surprise was on her side she cast her
eyes across the roof, but even tired as she was she could not have
missed her target. He was the only shooter, and while she had half
expected it, he was the last thing Abigail had wanted to see.
"You things again," Abigail hissed out, but she issued no challenge
or warning. Instead she pulled her .357 from her waistband and advanced.
The monster was still pre-occupied with his rocket launcher, and her arm
would not remain steady enough at that distance.
Behind her the wind slammed the metal door shut, and the Super
Mutant looked up from his loading. "Eh? You're no Heart. I don' know
you."
He stood slowly, still putting the rocket into his weapon. That was
one mercy, at least. He didn't have time to finish loading it.
He didn't have time to get to his feet either. Abigail aimed as best
she could, still forty feet from the hulking mutant, and fired. The
magnum round wrenched at her wrist, but he was a big target and the
bullet sank deep into the left side of his chest. Two more rounds went
wide, the pain in her hand and the recoil from even the lighter .38
special cartridges throwing off her already shaky aim, but as she
advanced shots four and five both hit home in its stomach.
That was enough to hunch the Super Mutant over, now simply
struggling not to drop its weapon instead of finishing loading.
However, it was also enough to make Abigail's grip falter after
firing the gun one handed, her left hand hanging painfully from her
abused shoulder. The gun clattered to the floor, one bullet left
unfired.
She still had her four remaining knives though, and she wouldn't let
herself stop until they were gone. She pulled them from her pocket one
by one, and in turn hurled them with everything she had left. Behind her
the metal door to the roof clanged again, and Stephanie called her name,
but Abigail was too invested in her attack to hear.
One blade sank into the Mutant's trunk, while another sliced past
its left arm, finally forcing it to drop the rocket clumsily onto the
roof.
"Argh! Stupid pest human!" With one almighty swing the Super Mutant
threw the useless rocket launcher at her, forcing her to duck away.
It caught her left ankle as it hit the floor, spinning her around,
but once it was past her she could still stand. It hadn't broken
anything. She threw the last knife that she could afford to give, and it
struck the monster square in the chest.
"Fall over already!" Abigail screamed, exhaustion and frustration
finally getting the better of her. She only had one knife left. She
doubted she could throw it and finish him in one shot. It was too much
of a gamble. Likewise, she was too tired to try and finish it face to
face. The creature would crush her flat before she even got close enough
to swing.
Maybe, if she charged and focused on getting inside its reach
without worrying about attacking, she might be able to topple it off the
edge.
"ABIGAIL! MANNY! STOP ALREADY!"
Abigail's step faltered. "M-Manny?"
Abigail heard Stephanie run over, still wearing no more than a
sheet, but now carrying a shotgun in her hands, scavenged from one of
the dead raiders.
"You'll give up now, right Manny?"
The Super Mutant stood breathing heavily, before looking down at its
wounds. "They done shooting, huh?"
Stephanie nodded. "And Jackhammer's dead. Abigail here killed him.
You've lost."
The Super Mutant 'Manny' made a disgusted face, and pulled Abigail's
knives from his sternum and stomach. "Ugh. You humans are all bad as
each other. And Illas is dead down there. And I got holes in me now. You
got holes in you too, black girl. Wasn' worth it."
"YES IT WAS!" Abigail screamed back at him, not knowing whether to
be furious or overjoyed "We... we won! We won, right?"
"I think so," Stephanie replied. "I saw Rathley walking around bold
as brass down there when I grabbed this. Come on, Abby. Let's sit you
down and find a doctor."
Abigail had other priorities though. "Sharn! She's needs help!"
With Stephanie's assistance Abigail staggered to the edge of the
roof to look down at the building the Mutant named Manny had shot a
rocket into. The blast had collapsed a large part of the roof, and two
figures - Sharn and Simon - lay sprawled on what remained of it. It was
easy to identify Sharn by her huge mane of hair though, stirring at
least slightly as someone tried to revive her.
Abigail let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Oh, thank you so
much."
Quite who she was thanking she wasn't sure, but they certainly
deserved it. She raised her good arm as a last show of exhausted
triumph, and below her several people, both late comers to the battle
and the lucky survivors, mirrored it. That was right, they'd had
reinforcements come too. Hopefully that meant not too many of her
friends died after all.
Though she wanted to try and see who she could recognise standing
safely down there she let Stephanie ease her to the floor, propped up
against the raised edge of the roof. "Uhhh, I think I need to close my
eyes, Steph."
"Sure. Thanks for coming to get me."
"You're welcome." Then Abigail realised who else was up there. "What
about... the mutant? It... it'll kill us."
"No it won't. I promise. Just get some sleep. I'll make sure he
doesn't hurt you."
Abigail didn't believe it, but she was too tired to argue, or do
anything but shut her watery eyes. "I really hope you're right..."
***
Abigail was asleep almost instantly, and after wrapping up her
shoulder Stephanie sat down next to her to give her something more
comfortable to lean against, putting herself between her saviour and the
Super Mutant that the girl feared so much.
"Would you have shot me?" Manny asked, slowly plodding over, trying
not to aggravate his own injuries.
"Yes, I would. I nearly did when you threw that launcher at her."
"Ugh. She attacked me first. I'm gonna need medicine too, after she
put holes in me. Why'd you stop her, anyway? You don' think they'll kill
me? I killed enough of them."
"I didn't want *you* to kill *her* either. If Erin decides to kill
you after this then that's the end of it. I told you not to fight."
Manny sighed heavily. "Thought he'd win. Ugh, we should'a listened
to Marcus. Would've been better to go with him, 'stead of picking fights
with humans over food. Stupid vault person."
Stephanie looked at him in surprise. "Oh? You've met Abigail's type
before?"
"Eh? She's a vault person?" He sighed again, more exhausted.
"They're trouble. All of them. Feh."
He lay back against the raised edge as well. "I'm gonna sleep too.
Being shot full of holes makes me sleepy."
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