After the Vault (part 6 of 18)

a Non-Anime Fanfiction fanfiction by Nutzoide

The Wasteland War Bride.

While the shootout at the Diamond Ring had taken its toll on the
members of the caravan, the carts and Brahmin themselves had come out
largely unscathed. Thanks to that the mercenaries were able to put a
good distance between themselves and the Ring by the time the sun had
started to set. The extended trek did mean that those who had not
brought rations with them would have to hunt for their supper in the
dark, or on the hoof, but as far as most were concerned that was a
reasonable price to ensure that the Diamonds were far enough behind
them not to attempt anything after dark.

One of the carts had now been designated the 'corpse cart', to
Abigail's disgust when she heard the moniker, and while it was a
necessity it was also a source of contention among the group as they
finally pitched tent and each began preparing their meals.

"Especially since we got no spotters now," Jassic warned. "I bet
Lyster'd try somethin' in a heartbeat, and he'd get away with it too."

"Don't worry about that," Kyle advised Jassic, Bason and Kirren, as
they sat around their overlarge campfire with Sharn, Chopper and
Stephanie. "I'll be keeping watch tonight, no matter what Lilis has
planned."

It was clear that he, like many of them, thought they should have
been privy to the deal they had been a part of. As it was Lyster was
curiously absent from either of the two large campfires. Smelling of
urine and soaked in dried blood he hadn't been welcome in the forward
cart, but he hadn't been fit to be one of the many walking beside it
either. As such he had sat alone on the corpse cart, though looking
only mildly disgruntled by the prospect once Chopper had treated him,
for a fee. In fact, as one of those on foot Jassic had fallen behind to
make sure that Lyster wasn't stupid enough to be scouring the bodies
for their loot already.

"For that matter," Stephanie asked, eating out of a dry packet,
"where's knife girl too?"

Sharn didn't appreciate the crude name, but pointed to the passenger
cart. "*Abigail* is still asleep. I didn't want to wake her after all
that."

Bason wiped the steak sauce from his beard, after cleaning out the
last of his three day meat-box. "She doesn't want to eat? No wonder
she's so skinny."

"I'll save her some of ours," Sharn said, motioning to the pan that
she had cooked in. "I didn't think Rathley would be eating with them
either," she added, pointing to the other group, "so she can have his.
Only fair after the shit he's put her through."

"So I heard," Stephanie agreed. "Why do you girls travel with him
anyway? He's a freak."

"You're kiddin', right?" Jassic said. "Weren't you listenin' on the
way up? He can afford to be an asshole, because he's good. I bet you
he's the only reason these guys'd go up that close to the Cobalt Line
in the first place, let alone find the chick to bring back."

"That's about the size of it," Kyle agreed. "He's not that bad, once
you figure out that he just likes making a ruckus."

"Yeah? Well that ruckus got Abby hurt," Sharn warned him, not quite
so happy about her partner's assessment. "He keeps us alive out here
and he's good in a fight, but if he doesn't stop treating her like dirt
I'm going to make him sorry for it."

Then she looked to Kyle's other side, and to their currently silent
partner. "You too Chopper. No more fights. She's not your pet."

Chopper paused with her tin spork half way to her mouth from her
bowl of desert chowder. "What-now?"

Sharn gave her a brief, challenging look. "She told me about your
fight. You said it yourself, she needs to work out what she want to do
on her own, so stop bullying her into things."

"In that case you should stop coddling her." For a moment Chopper
looked definitely put out, because Sharn had made such a public start
to a quarrel, but soon that was gone and replaced with a knowing smirk.
"It really is embarrassing how much she will fawn for your support. 'Oh
no, I can't, 'Sharn' will look after me.'"

She sighed, a little over-theatrical about it. "It really is such a
cute crush she has on you."

Sharn just blinked in response, utterly wrong footed. "What? You
can't be..."

Chopper's smiled just continued unabated, making Sharn nervous.

"She isn't, is she?"

Chopper nodded.

"For Grandpa's sake, Abby," Sharn sighed. "Why me? Why not you? She
knows you're queer."

Chopper shrugged. "I did offer. She was so cute about coming out
too, like it actually mattered!"

"Maybe it did," Stephanie said. "You know how messed up vault towns
can be sometimes."

"Well, if she's so fresh out of her vault," Kirren added, "I guess
it's only natural she'd get hung up on you."

When Sharn gave her a doubting look Kirren went on. "Seriously.
She's a vault girl. You sound like the only one here who thinks
anything like her, probably. And have your been listening to yourself?
If we weren't all out here getting shot up together, I wouldn't think
*you* were even a Scav, let alone up for Merc work."

Sharn sighed, shaking her head and leaning onto Kyle shoulder. He
put his arm around her. "Hey, she's an okay kid," Kyle said, "she'll be
able to live with it."

Sharn still didn't really understand it. What did a Scav, especially
one like her, have in common with a vault girl like Abigail. "What am I
going to do with you, Abby-girl?"

Chopper gave her another amused but telling look. "Sia, why should
you be doing anything? She's got to start sorting her own life out,
right?"

***

Abigail noticed the difference instantly the next morning. She woke
up in their tent, instead of in the cart where she had fallen asleep,
and her rumbling stomach was pacified by a soup tin of cold sludge that
had been dinner for the others the night before. The fact that the
food, now cold, was unremarkable and nondescript at best was not enough
to take Abigail's attention away from the fact that as their troupe
alternated between breakfast and dismantling the tent, Sharn was
managing to give her far more space than Abigail was comfortable with.

Since she had first woken up in the desert, blind and burning from
the radiation poisoning, Sharn had insisted on keeping her close, and
assuring her that they were her friends despite everything that the
others had said to the contrary. Sharn had personally walked her
through many of the basics of surface life, and reassured her that the
desert was not only habitable, but would even be enjoyable at times
once Abigail got used to it.

That morning it had been Kyle giving her the food that Sharn had
made her, and a simple, "I'm okay. Come on, we have to finish up before
we get left behind. Hold this," was all Abigail got when she had
finally managed to greet Sharn, as they all un-pitched the tent.

Abigail felt a little hurt, but had held her tongue. Sharn was her
own person, and everyone had off days, so she had simply said, "Okay,"
and that had been that. It had been when loading up the cart again that
Abigail had begun to worry.

"Nah, I'll walk for a bit," Sharn said, with a glance so brief that
Abigail wasn't even sure she had seen it at all. It had been a look she
remembered far to well to believe Sharn could have worn it.

It was the one that had been etched into Abigail's mind back at the
age of sixteen, when Gillian had silently passed her in those agonising
days after Abigail's confession of love. A glance of uncertainty and
discomfort, because Abigail was now someone else to her, and Gillian,
now Sharn, didn't know how to relate to her any more.

Surely, it couldn't be. Could it?

Kyle just looked at his girlfriend and shrugged. "If you want to."
He dusted off his leather trousers. "I'll join you."

Abigail looked at Chopper though. "You didn't..."

Chopper shrugged. "It made a point." She chuckled, a little cruelly.
"Maybe I made it a little too well?"

"Damn it Chopper!" Abigail grabbed Kyle's sleeve to stop him, and
hauled herself to her feet. "Kyle, I'm sorry, but do you mind if I go
instead?"

Abigail couldn't read his response, but he slowly nodded. "If you
want the exercise..." His eyes had a harder reply though. If Abigail
stepped beyond the line, he wouldn't be very happy with her.

Abigail resented that, but thanked him that he hadn't made it a
spoken issue. She understood all too well. It had hit her hard when she
had realised that Sharn's friendship was just that. Friendship, maybe a
little of the mentor and student relationship, but nothing more, and
thanks to that look Abigail doubted she would have been able to take
her from Kyle even if she had wanted to. Sharn, for as much as Abigail
might have wished otherwise, always wore her brightest smiles when
together with him, hand in hand or lying across him like a satisfied
wildcat.

Kyle, Abigail thought as she hopped out of the back of the cart, was
a very lucky man. And thankfully, by the smiles he returned to his
lover, he seemed to know it.

Sitting up by the driver and Lilis, Rathley looked down at Chopper.
"What was that about? You been havin' fun with 'em without me?"

Chopper just grinned. "It's a girl thing, and Sharn's just not that
type of girl."

"What, you mean Abby's a dyke too? Not even two-way? Oh fuck it, you
know I wanted a piece of her!"

Chopper huffed in satisfaction and looked away, to watch Abigail
join Sharn away from the cart. "Don't blame me. Your fantasies are
*your* problem."

Away from their playful bitching Abigail was disappointed to see the
smile on Sharn's face fade as she saw that it was she and not Kyle
coming to keep her company. Those eyes of hers fell to the ground,
knowing that her lack of subtlety had got her caught. As the cart began
to move off, Sharn began walking but not keeping pace. Abigail supposed
that, if they were going to hash anything out, Sharn didn't want the
others hearing it too clearly.

As they fell into step together Abigail gave her friend a hopeful
smile, but one that didn't know whether to expect a happy response. "I
guess I should have told Chopper to keep her mouth shut, but then again
I don't think it would have done any good anyway."

Sharn nodded, looking a bit ashamed of herself, and a little
relieved at the same time. "Probably not. No offence, Abby, but I'm not
into the whole girl-girl thing, okay? I like guys, and I've already got
a damn good one anyway, so..."

Abigail was surprised by the blunt tone of Sharn's voice, and had to
interrupt, because it sounded like she was getting herself worked up
over the situation. "Hey, wait a minute! I know!" She tried to give
Sharn a reassuring look, even though she was hurt by the conclusions
Sharn seemed to be jumping to. "I mean, it's obvious. It's not as
though you hide how physical you two are. I do like girls, but that
doesn't mean I'm going to try and seduce you."

Sharn didn't look so sure. "Chopper said you wanted to. And I'm
sorry, but I'm not interested."

Abigail looked away, down to the sand. "Yes. I like you. And I also
know that Kyle would probably blow my head of if I tried anything. And
anyway, if I did want to be with anyone, I would want them to be
interested in me too, you know? This doesn't change anything. You're
still the best friend I have, now. You don't behave differently around
Chopper. And she doesn't try to seduce you, does she?"

"That's because I don't *like* her!" Sharn countered. "I just got
used to her. I do like *you*, Abby, but that doesn't mean I want to
fuck you. And she did try once. I didn't like that one bit, and I made
sure she didn't either."

Abigail shook her head. "Ugh. That's just her, Sharn. Honest. I just
want my friend, because you're all I have now. I don't have my vault,
or my family, or my job... There's not even any God to keep me going.
Maybe there never was. So please don't leave me alone, okay?"

Sharn took far too long to answer, but when she did finally speak it
lifted Abigail's worried heart, even though Sharn still did not look
her in the eye. "I'm not going to leave you. I wanted you to turn out
right. I wanted to make sure you were going to be okay out here. But if
you were a guy, I wouldn't have been so... You know, close. I didn't
know you were gay."

"I'm still a girl too," Abigail replied. "I can be close to other
girls. It doesn't matter if I fancy them or not. I never thought you
were coming on to me or anything. Hell, that's what I'm used to. The
only girl who's ever shown any interest in me like that is Chopper, and
that's not going to happen. So, please don't worry about me. I'm not
going to do anything weird, even if I get a bit jealous of Kyle
sometimes."

Sharn nodded, but still had that reserved look in her eyes. "Maybe,
but I still don't get it. I never have, with Chopper or any of them.
It's just weird for me."

Abigail should have expected it really, but that didn't mean it
didn't hurt. "Sorry. There's nothing I can do about that."

Sharn nodded, similarly quiet. "Yeah. I guess it was easier with
Chopper, because I didn't want to give her a hug when I told her that.
I had to punch her instead."

Abigail knew there wasn't much more to explain in their situation.
They both knew what each other was saying. It just happened not to slot
together in the way their friendship had before. She took Sharn's arm
and pulled herself to the wild haired young woman, stopping her in her
tracks and holding her for comfort.

"What? Abby..."

Abigail just held her, wanting to prove her point. "See? It's not
sexual. It won't be, I promise. It just means that I'm not alone, even
though I feel so small and lost when there's so much empty space around
me. There's nothing out there, and nothing but the sun and empty space
above us. Don't you ever feel lost out here too?"

Slowly, and to Abigail's relief, Sharn put her arms around her too.
"It's just desert, Abby-girl. Everything's out there somewhere. Why
else would we keep searching for it all!"

***

As the day wore on and the sun drew higher, Abigail's light skin
covered by her cloak, she found that hanging back to walk with Sharn
gave rise to another unpleasant experience. One that she had thankfully
avoided for the most part, back at Vault 42.

Sharn noticed her discomfort. "Yeah, it kind of reeks, what with the
bodies and the sun and all."

Lyster, riding in the empty foot or so of space in the back of that
stinking cart, had little sympathy for them. None, in fact; "Why don't
you hop up here and get a proper sniff of it," he sneered, looking
sorry for himself.

Abigail looked at him with a little worry, but Sharn took her hand
and pulled her up towards the first cart, and away from the smell.
"Ignore him, Abby. If he doesn't like it he can walk. He got a bullet
in his shoulder, not his foot. It's the dead I'm more worried about. It
just doesn't seem right not burying them, you know?"

In all honesty, Abigail didn't know. She understood the religious
significance, but underground the dead had always been cremated at
their funerals. Burning them was both respectful and it eliminated the
risk of disease spreading in their enclosed vault system. "Won't they
get buried or cremated when we get back?"

"Sure they will," Sharn told her, "but that's not where they died.
They won't be able to rest easily like that."

How could they not rest easily, Abigail wondered. They were dead.
They couldn't do anything but rest. Except decompose. She frowned at
herself for the thought. That was the kind of remark Chopper would have
made. "How do you mean?"

Sharn gave her a smile. One not as vibrant as those she had worn
before, but she was trying. "I guess you don't believe in spirits
either. I don't believe in any God - like you said, how can you out
here? - but our ancestors are out there. And the people who were killed
yesterday." Her smile became a little brighter. "If you want something
to believe in instead of God, you could do worse than believe in your
family."

"Sharn, they're dead. They aren't coming back."

"Of course not," the wasteland girl agreed. "But you have their
hopes to fulfil. What's there to say they aren't watching you now from
wherever they are. I've been a wastelander for years now, but I think
I'll still believe the spirits are watching me until the day I join
them."

Abigail was sceptical. "Is that what passes for religion up here?"

"Sometimes. Chopper and Rathley think it's all bullshit, but they
don't believe in anything but themselves."

"And Kyle?"

Sharn shrugged. "He puts up with hearing it. He knows there's still
a bit of the village left in me."

Abigail's curiosity was piqued. "The 'village'?"

"Yeah. My home. It's a tribal village, up north east. Mom was a
tribal girl, and Dad was a Scav who decided to stay for a while and put
down some roots. I grew up there, until Dad decided he wanted his girl
to grow up civilised."

"He took you away?"

Sharn shook her head. "We just left. I was young enough that I
thought it was be great to explore, and Mom just waved us off. I never
thought that would be the last time I saw her."

Abigail felt guilty for asking, after that. "Oh, sorry. What
happened?"

"She found another man in the village, and died in childbirth. That
happens more with tribal people. They don't usually have medical books
like yours to help them out." Her smile had turned wistful. "I wonder
what my little brother would have been like. I always liked babies."

"Don't we all," Abigail agreed. It surprised her that Sharn didn't
really seem upset about it, but that was something to be glad about.

However, Sharn looked at her with confusion after hearing her agree.
"You do? But if you don't sleep with men how can you have children?"

That was a stupid question, Abigail thought, right up until she
realised she now lived in a run down desert and not in her vault.
"Well, I could adopt, I guess. I'm sure there are kids out here who
need help. And I guess maybe you could find someone who still knew how
to do geno-ovulatory insemination, if there are any other vaults still
working. I know we had the procedure theory in our medical databanks in
Vault 42. I downloaded it to my PipBoy. I never did ask if anyone would
be able to do it though."

It was then that Abigail noticed the way Sharn was staring at her.

"What?"

"You know, Abby-girl, you vault types make the rest of us look like
the tribals, because I have no idea what any of that meant."

Abigail waved it off. "It doesn't matter anyway. I'd need to find
all the right equipment, or someone with the right training. And a
girlfriend, for that matter, so it's not like it's important." She put
the idea out of her mind.

"So, if you were a tribal, does that explain the hair?" She put her
hands up, to illustrate Sharn's toffee coloured mane.

"My hair? What do you mean?"

Abigail giggled. "Never mind."

***

"Mom? Dad?"

Abigail trembled, afraid. "I'm... I'm sorry, but I'm..."

They still wouldn't turn to look at her. They just stood, staring at
their bunk. Why wouldn't they turn to her? How could she admit the
truth if they could not see how much she regretted it?

"I'm..."

A whisper took away her voice. It filled the air until it was
saturated with the tuneless voice. "Sinnerrrr..."

Abigail spun on her heels, to see the dim vault corridors reach out
into eternity beyond their bunkroom doorway.

"Murdererrrr..."

"No!" Abigail screamed into the yawning tunnel. "That's not..."

"Traitorous Jinx!" Alfred Parker spat. He held the lapels of
Abigail's leather jacket so tightly and so close that Abigail felt the
blood on his accusing lips spatter against her face.

Abigail swallowed down her sudden surge of annoyance. Why did he
always have to be like that? "Oh for fuck's sake, give it a rest Alfy!
It's not my fault you screwed up." She was not about to let him get her
riled up yet again.

"You infected me," Alfred whispered, blood trailing from the pool in
his mouth. "You infected all of us, Jinx!"

"Why should it be my fault?" Abigail said in retort. But now she
felt much less assured of herself, because of the crowd around them.
"You're dead."

And from behind Alfred Overseer Jameson stepped forward, and his
Vault stepped with him. "Aren't we all..?"

How true that was. "I'm not..."

"And why should we suffer for the sake of your luck?" Matthew
Langdon burbled. His torn right shoulder slid stickily from his body.
Abigail was glad she wouldn't have the clean that up, but the weight of
the dead surrounding her was intimidating now. Her people were turning
on her, and that frightened her.

Then Sharn came, knocking the massacred young man to the ground with
one deft punch. "Screw off, ghoul." Before Abigail could say anything
Sharn - no it was Chopper - had pulled her sub-machine gun from her
belt and filled the corpse-man with too much lead. And then she shot it
again, just for good measure. "Careful Abby," Chopper said, "you never
know when these guys really are dead or are just playing."

Abigail could only stare at Matthew's perforated form. "But... But
he was..."

"What, Abby-girl?" Sharn asked, taking Abigail's shoulder and
showing her the sandy battlefield around them. "They were just ghouls."

Oh, Abigail thought, that was good. They were just ghouls. Just
ghouls, until poor Christian reached his arm up from where he lay,
crawling stiffly over the bludgeoned body of Abigail's own very special
Diamond. "Abby? I thought we was friends, girl."

Standing over them, looking down in such horrible disappointment as
Abigail knelt to take Christian's tattered hand, was Marcus. "What have
you done, Abigail? Is this what you wanted to be?"

"No! Not you too!" Abigail wept bitterly cradling Christian-come-
Sharn's bullet ridden body. "I never wanted this! Never!"

She clutched Sharn's lifeless head to her breast, inwardly cursing
the hard and unforgiving surface. And a voice reached out from the
corpse cart.

"Hey, at least you're not dead," Alice Littlehand said, staring
lifelessly at Abigail's grief. Somehow, those words comforted her, and
gave her courage as she faced her parents' backs.

"Mom? Dad?" Abigail trembled, afraid. "I'm sorry, but I'm... I
killed someone. And I think I might kill a lot more."

And still they would not turn to face her. Abigail began to cry,
silently, as she stared at their unmoving backs. Of course they would
not turn. They already knew.

And then the dream-tension shattered, much in the same way a pane of
glass would when struck by an eighteen wheel truck. "Hey, Abby, what's
up!? Crazy dreams you're having!"

Abigail blinked as the world re-aligned itself around her, leaving
them sitting on their favourite vault library settee. "Oh, right. Thank
god for that. That was really panic-making."

"Eh, it makes a change," Gillian said, shrugging her shoulders. "I
would have thought you'd be sick of all this lucid dreaming stuff by
now."

Abigail grinned and sat back, feeling her tremulous heartbeat slow
back down. "Not if it means I can be with you."

"Oi, down girl," Gillian warned. "I'm part of the lucid bit, okay?
No lezzy shenanigans tonight."

Abigail made herself sag theatrically. "Aw, shame. I always make out
that you're so good in bed too."

"Not that you'd know."

"Not that'd you'd know either," Abigail countered.

Gillian nodded, and sighed. "Well, it wasn't like I'd planned to die
a virgin, you know?"

"Me neither."

"Hey, you're the one that's not dead."

Abigail nodded, "But it's only a matter of time." She frowned. "And
I don't want to see Sharn dead either. That wasn't nice."

"It serves her right for making you dream like that."

Abigail had to agree with the Gillian image. "Yeah. I guess my
family spirits don't like me very much, do they?"

Gillian obviously didn't agree. "Hey, it's your head. Who doesn't
like who now, when you're the only one here?"

And Abigail was alone on the sofa. "Yeah. That's the reason,
Chopper. I don't want to be responsible for what I'm turning into."

And then, just as naturally as she had disappeared, Gillian sat back
with her, holding her hand. "Not what. Just who. And don't you think
I'd be glad you've survived?"

"Are you? Glad that I survived, when you all died?"

Gillian smiled, helplessly. "I will be glad if you let me. I'm your
dream, after all."

Abigail had forgotten that. "I guess I'm allowed to indulge myself
that much, aren't I?"

Gillian grinned. "Why the hell not?"

And then, to Abigail's greatest relief, Gillian was glad.

***

Abigail found herself looking back to the corpse cart once their
little caravan was moving again. Hauling the bodies onto it had
sickened her, but as this day and a half of return travel had passed
that intestinal outrage had passed. Surface life was very practical in
its outlook, or so it seemed. You believed whatever was required to
keep yourself going. It didn't matter what it was. Sharn had her
ancestral spirits, Chopper had her medical science, and according to
Bason one of the weedier towns to the east had The First Church of the
Molerat to keep them sane.

"Though what kind of sanity they get out of worshipping those
oversized rodents beats me," he said, as an afterthought.

"And why would the Brotherhood worship their own technology?" Kyle
added. "None of that stuff ever makes any sense." He gave Sharn a slow,
placating smile. "Not unless you're the one that believes it, anyway."

"So what does he believe in then?" Abigail asked, absently, as she
watched the reticent Merc Seb driving the corpse cart. Lyster was
sitting somewhere among the stinking bodies too.

"Who knows?" Kirren replied. Her head lolled over the edge of the
cart in boredom. "Who cares?"

"I cared," Abigail said. "I used to think I didn't believe in God,
because I always skipped out on chapel, and never said my prayers."

"What, so you did believe, but thought you didn't?" Sharn asked.

Abigail nodded. "I thought I didn't, right up until I realised that
he really wasn't there. I had believed all along, I just hadn't been...
observing, I guess."

"And what's changed?" Rathley asked. "Nothing. So you left your god
in your vault. He can keep Sharn's spirits happy down there."

Chopper turned another page of Abigail's medical book. Brain trauma,
and what it means for you, and you, and you, the colourful text
proclaimed. "You seem awfully philosophical this morning, for someone
staring at bodies instead of the town."

She pointed off ahead of them, and true enough Corva was well in
sight. But, while the enormous expanse around her never seemed to grow
old, Abigail found that she couldn't quite work up the enthusiasm to be
seeing the town again this time. "I guess I just feel sorry for them.
Their lives were sold pretty cheaply."

Several of the others looked up to Lilis and Old Bert, sitting up
with the remaining caravan driver. Abigail hadn't meant it personally
this time though, at least not much. Lilis seemed to hear as much, and
replied with the same quiet reverence. "If you knew what it was their
lives had bought, you wouldn't think so little of their value."

"So what have they got us?" Bason asked. Walking alongside his
friend in the cart, Jassic parroted the question.

"Yeah, are the Hearts gunnin' for Corva again or what? It's not like
they could take us without getting' wiped out."

"You'll hear the details when Mayor Golway decides to share them.
I'm just the messenger he hired."

"What, you can't even give us a hint?" Rathley said with a grin, but
Lilis ignored him. That ended the debate as far as most of them were
concerned, Abigail among them.

"Hey, Stephanie," Abigail said, finally taking her eyes off the
corpses, and planting them on the girl who walked on her own side of
the cart, "when we get back, do you want an extra pair of hands to help
you out?"

The gunsmith pulled her straw hat back on her head, so she could
look up at Abigail. To her, the vault girl looked oddly unconcerned one
way or the other, but maybe that was just the black leather and the
shades talking. "Well, no offence, Abby, but you don't know much about
guns, do you? Though if you want to try and help me find some
buyers..?"

Fair enough, Abigail though. "Maybe. I guess you're right."

"You're not sticking around with them lot?" Stephanie asked. Sharn
had a similar question ready on her own lips, and both Kyle and Chopper
were at least listening in.

"Well, yeah, but I have to find something to do," Abigail replied.
"I guess the Mayor isn't just going to hire us all up again as soon as
we get back. He's going to be planning and talking to people, if what
the Hearts have planned is that bad, right?"

"Right," Kirren agreed. "I guess it'll be a day or so before he
actually tells everyone they're all fucked."

"But," Bason added, "Golway likes to keep help on if they work out
for him. That's why Jassic and me have stuck around. He's done good by
us before, so he'll hire us on again no questions asked, if we're up
for it. When he does let the rat out of the bag, he won't turn you down
if you want in."

Abigail frowned. She wasn't sure she wanted to go on another of the
mayor's missions. "He planned to kill off his own policemen."

"True," Rathley agreed, "but you heard Lilis. He paid 'em to behave,
but they were still scum. And if you want somethin' to do in the mean
time, just play nurse for Chopper or somethin'. That's was the whole
point of coming along on this crapshoot in the first place."

"Eh?" Jassic asked from alongside. "They're lettin' you practice
again for this? Fuck me, this town ain't what it used to be."

Several of the others had similarly surprised looks on their faces,
with or without Jassic's level of disgust. "That was the deal," Chopper
told them, looking completely unfazed. "I put myself on the line for
this job, plus whatever happens with the Hearts, and I get to work
again."

"About time too," Kyle said. He appreciated Chopper's upturn in
fortunes, but Abigail could see that he was one of the few who did. On
the other hand, this was something Abigail hadn't been told.

"Wait, you have to go and deal with the Hearts as well, after this?"
She was even shocked that Rathley, and certainly Chopper, would have
agreed to something as reckless as that. "But who knows what you might
have to do! It could be a *real* suicide job!"

Chopper shrugged, "Maybe, but I doubt it. Gerald Golway isn't that
kind of man. He's an uptight ass, but unlike some of his men he has
morals."

"Morals like killing Nathanial as part of a bargain?!"

Chopper nodded, smirking. "Better thank him for sending his lackeys
to take most of the bullets for us, eh?"

Abigail cursed herself and Chopper for that. "Damn it. And what
about you, Sharn? Kyle? Are you going too?"

Kyle nodded, his own much more trustworthy grin showing off his
broken tooth. "Yep. Us four, we've got a good thing going here. It'd be
a shame to break it up now."

Sharn nodded, giving Abigail a hopeful smile. "So, you want to make
it us five, maybe? You're doing good, you know?"

Abigail appreciated the offer more than she could say, but she could
see the lingering distance that had grown between Sharn and herself,
and it made her hesitate. "Are you sure you want me along?"

"Well, only if you want to come," Sharn said, mirroring Abigail's
uncertainty about the trust between them.

Chopper sighed. "Oh, for fucks sake! You know you're coming," she
said to Abigail, before rounding on Sharn, "and *you* know she wants
to, so stop with all the bloody maybes and if-you-don't-minds. It's not
like you'd let yourselves screw each other anyway, so get over it. I
liked you better when you were both oblivious."

Kirren chuckled from her seat at the back. "A little frustrated,
Chopper?"

Chopper buried her annoyance - and was that a little embarrassment?
- in the medical text. "Don't. You haven't had to put up with them the
whole week."

Abigail just smiled though, as did Sharn. That was settled then. The
less fuss they had to make, the better. At least this way no-one would
have to worry about anyone else, because whatever the Mayor sent them
into, they would all be in that mess together. Abigail did need to find
her own path in life now, but right now that path was the one with the
people she had come to call friends. Even if some of them still had a
long way to go, she thought, looking at Chopper and Rathley.

***

There was no greeting party to meet them on their return to Corva,
to Abigail's surprise. There had only been a small crowd to see them
off as well, but people had at least expressed an interest in the
caravan and in what their party of mercenaries was expected to do.
Coming back however was almost an overly efficient affair by
comparison. Lilis and her brahmin driver, and Seb, leaped down from
their seats before the carts had come to a stop, and each brahmin had
been guided through the gates and into the town by their own pair of
farm handlers.

Similarly most of their troupe left the cart to walk into town, with
only Chopper and Lyster content to remain seated. The others, Abigail
included, had an image to maintain. What would it have looked like for
the conquering heroes to return lounging around in the back of the cart
like that?

Except that so little fuss was made Abigail wondered why they all
bothered. A few of them were greeted as they all made their way to the
assembly point beside the police station, but only by people they were
obviously friendly with already. The cart laid out with seven dead
bodies got more attention. And even that alternated between disgust at
the smell and a sense of "Oh, another lot copped it out there? Poor
buggers."

It was far less than any of them deserved, the corpses included, in
Abigail's opinion. "We don't even get a 'thank you' for risking our
lives for these people?" she asked, both annoyed and depressed at the
fact.

Rathley and the others seemed to understand it. "That's sweet,
Sugar, but we've been gone three days. Most of 'em forgot about us the
moment we were outta sight. And those that didn't knew less than us
about what we were gonna have to do, and we didn't know shit to start
with."

"It doesn't exactly make a girl feel appreciated, since she might
have been killed," Abigail groused.

"How d'you think they feel?" Jassic asked in response, poking a
thumb at the corpse cart as it was led around the side of the building.
"You don't turn Merc for appreciation. You do it for the caps and the
badass rep."

"A rep that, incidentally Sugar, you're gonna blow if you keep
talkin' like that," Rathley added, though he seemed as amused by
Abigail's reaction as anything else.

"It sucks," Sharn agreed with her. "But at least we did the right
thing, if you want to think of it like that."

Coming from Sharn that actually helped.

They were met by Mayor Golway in short order, who lead them inside
to the entrance hall that once again had enough old chairs put out to
seat any who wanted them. For the most part however, the mercenaries
just wanted whatever share of the extra loot was theirs.

"The valuables are being tallied as we speak," the Mayor said to the
restless lot. "As usual, don't bother asking about their clothes, but
if you have any other preferences then speak up."

Kirren made her preferences for exploring equipment known, while
Jassic and Old Bert argued over who had the most right to any shotgun
shells, if there were any. Even though she had asked to be paid in
rifle ammunition up front, Sharn put her vote in for more, since the
dead spotters had both been armed with sniper rifles. She also said
she'd have one of them instead if her share would cover it.

"I know I really don't want to ask this," Abigail said, feeling
dirty for even entertaining the thought, "but why would anyone want to
claim their clothes?"

For Kyle it was a valid question. "That's the town's share. Any
usable clothing get put towards the poor fund."

"Then why was I given those leathers?" Abigail asked, suddenly
confused. It was a much better and more honourable answer than she
could have guessed, but the information didn't quite measure up to her
own experience.

"Because walking around looking like a raider is a Bad Idea," Kyle
replied. Abigail could hear the capitalisation in those words, and it
sounded as though it should have been followed by the ever present
Vault 42 idiom: '- trademark of BadIdeas incorporated, a subsidiary of
Vault-Tec industries.'

"That's why you've got to strip the gold out of Diamond stuff before
anyone in their right mind wears it. Because if you don't it might get
them shot."

Abigail wasn't sure how reassured that was meant to make her. She
was, she realised, wearing Diamond leathers. Even if the jewellery was
gone, is still left her vaguely uncomfortable. But then, she had turned
it into her image now, with the shades and her blue jumpsuit showing
where the leg and sleeve were missing. "Well... as long as it doesn't
make anyone shoot *me*."

"After the way you were greeted at the steak house," Chopper
laughed, "that would depend on how loosely you mean 'shoot'."

Unfortunately for Sharn the sniper rifles were not considered part
of the loot, since they had been provided by the Mayor's policing
budget and not by the spotters themselves. It wasn't a surprise, such
high precision weapons were worth more than any normal farm man could
ever expect to save up, and as such the overall payout was much lower
than some had hoped, but it still made for over a thousand caps per
Merc for the whole job, which Abigail took once again in actual bottle
caps. But together, it made her mind boggle. Her cap wealth was vast
now, or had she overvalued the things to begin with.

Stephanie was the only other one to take her entire pay in bottle
caps, and despite the chill in the air between them - over knowing that
the other held secrets that could go a long way to ruin them -
Stephanie evidently saw it as something to build a little camaraderie
on.

"It's one hell of a float, it's it? Just listen to that rattle!" She
shook her bag to emphasise it. That was the sound of a thousand bottle
caps.

Abigail didn't know how she would ever spend it all. Her leathers,
in their bartering, had only cost her a little over two hundred, and
Sharn had told her to consider a trade like that as an investment. That
was the value of the old, bloodstained ones she had traded in, along
with some of the jewellery.

"So do you have plans for it?" Abigail asked, hoping that Stephanie
would give her some indication as to what all that cash *should* be
used for.

Stephanie just chuckled. "Are you kidding? This is going to feed me
for months! Who cares how long it takes to sell my new guns now? And
when I do," she added, conspiratorially, "I can just put that profit
straight into more materials. A word of advice Abby: if you really can
do machines, take a risk like this and it'll set you up for five years,
easily. Get out and set up a shop for yourself, because those two," she
pointed to Chopper and Rathley, still collecting their loot, "they are
only going to get you killed, or worse."

Abigail looked over to the pair, and thought that Stephanie was
being rather unfair. Rathley she could understand. He was an amoral and
inconsiderate asshole, and he *had* got her wounded in setting her up
against the pigrat. But he had, in his own way, been trying to set her
up right for surface life, and while she didn't appreciate his way of
doing it, she was glad that he hadn't been as criminal as he had first
seemed.

And Chopper, while also antisocial, seemed to be more misunderstood
than dangerous. Surely it was one of her few true virtues if she was
willing to take on patients who were just as likely not to survive
anyway. Being a doctor who disliked people, or saw them only as a
source of amusement, was aberrant but not damning. It was strange,
Abigail thought, that the people she liked least in their group were
the one who had made sure she had been found in the desert, and the one
who had kept her alive out there.

Then, from behind the two of them, a quiet and demure but very un-
amused voice joined their private conversation. "I would consider that
suggestion seriously, Miss Abigail. Leave them behind, because you can
only come to regret entertaining their company."

Both women turned suddenly to see Erin standing there regarding the
two wanderers in question, before she turned her attention to the
scandalised Stephanie.

"Erin! This was private!" she hissed. "You know what will happen to
me if people find out I can't..."

Erin cut her off. "Steph, I am not about to spread your secrets. We
are friends enough for that, I hope."

Stephanie did calm herself after a moment of outrage. "Yes, of
course we are. Though you've never listened in on me before."

The younger girl gave her a smile. "True enough. Would you mind if I
spoke with Abigail a moment?"

"No, go ahead. I'll see you both later."

Left to themselves, Abigail could see that Erin was going to speak
more freely, and thought that her intrusiveness didn't match her
appearance very well. As she had already seen, and as Christian had
said, Erin was a pale girl, and prettier than any other surfacer
Abigail had seen. She would have been pretty even by the standards in
Vault 42. She looked like the frail and timid girls from the vault
cinema, except that Erin was not timid. Her thin, sculpted face and
clear green eyes held a strength that her young physique did not, and
the bobbed black hair around her cheeks only confirmed that severity.
Chopper had called her weak, but Abigail did not hear any weakness in
the girl's voice.

"You do not look convinced," Erin said, "but Rathley is dangerous.
If I was told that he had mistreated you I would not hesitate to
believe it. And for all the value my father can see in his skills, the
worst ally to have is one who makes enemies as easily as that man
does."

Abigail didn't like the certainty in Erin's tone, but at the same
time she could not deny that it was probably true. "Maybe. I never said
I liked him. I know I wouldn't trust him if Sharn and Kyle and Chopper
didn't."

Erin seemed satisfied by that answer, and got straight to the other
point. "Are you Chopper's new lover?"

Even knowing their past, the question still surprised Abigail.
"What? No. No, I'm not."

Erin wasn't convinced. "I was told by some of the other mercenaries
that you are also only lesbian. I am warning you now, I intend to win
back her love, in any way possible."

"'Only' lesbian? What's that supposed to mean? And I told you, I'm
not interested in her. I don't know why *you* would be."

"Oh Abby," Chopper sung as her group came over to join them, "it's
not nice to talk like that behind people's backs. Really," she said,
laying it on thickly, and grinning all the while. "I'm hurt."

Erin looked annoyed at the fun Chopper was poking at them both, and
at the implication of any relationship with Abigail. "What I mean,"
Erin said to Abigail, "is that you are only lesbian. You don't choose
to be so when it is convenient, like so many other women do."

"Now, now," Chopper chastised lightly, "surely that's not fair on
the poor bisexuals."

"I don't care about the fairness of it," Erin replied, softening her
tone. "And please do not joke now, is Abigail really not your partner?
Honestly?"

Chopper sighed under the weight of both Erin's and Abigail's eyes.
It was obvious she would have loved to lie, or at least play with them
both. "No. No, I am not fucking her."

Abigail was surprised just how relieved Erin looked to hear that.

"Thank you. You did not lie to me last time then. It was hard
waiting for you this time, Chopper. And as soon as you get back, I have
to hear that you might have found another partner after what you told
me..."

Mayor Golway interrupted his daughter's relieved admission. "You
have your payment, Butcher. If I'm going to let you work in my town,
hadn't you better get to it?"

Erin's eyes never left Chopper's face as she replied. "We are
talking father. At least let us finish our conversation, please."

Chopper quirked her eyebrow. "Erin, it's over, and if you keep this
up your dad is going to shoot me."

"If he did I would shoot him myself."

Abigail was more concerned about the Mayor's own tone, rather than
whatever he might have liked to do to the woman who had seduced his
daughter. "Even if he hates you," she said to Chopper, "I can't believe
he could keep calling you that."

"Call her what?" Sharn asked, seeing nothing wrong.

"You know. Butcher. He called her that last time too. That's just
not right."

Then, to Abigail's surprise, Rathley and Sharn broke out in
laughter, while Erin giggled and Kyle just smiled and shook his head.

"Hey, what?" Abigail asked, not liking that fact that she was the
butt of the joke.

"That's her name, Abby-girl," Sharn answered, while Rathley just
continued to laugh, slapping Chopper on the shoulder. "'Chopper' is the
unpleasant nickname."

"Yeah, laugh it up, guys" Chopper said, riding out the joke with
remarkable good humour in Abigail's opinion. "The surgeon is called
Butcher. Yeah." She turned to Abigail. "Of the two, I'd rather keep the
real one quiet and stick to the abuse, thanks."

"Oh, dear, you really didn't tell her?" Erin asked. "I guess I don't
have anything to worry about after all. I still know you. All about
you. And you do know me too, Chopper. I know where you would want to be
right now, after the desert, if only you'll let me take you."

"Erin, no. We do know each other. Better than we should do. It was
good, and now it's over." Rather than getting annoyed, she smiled. "Try
taking Abigail there. You know she might be open to it. She might
surprise you."

Erin wasn't going to accept that though. "I haven't broken our
connection, and I know you haven't either! I told you, I know you. I
know you better than you know yourself. I still love you, Marie, and I
know I always will."

Erin's heartfelt plea stood in silence for a moment, before Rathley,
Sharn and Kyle had the indecency to burst into laughter again.

"God, you serious?!" Rathley guffawed. "Marie?! HAhahahah!"

"I get it," Kyle said, catching his breath. "Butcher is your
*surname*, right? Damn, I knew it was weird just being named after your
dad like that."

Sharn apologised too, in between her giggles. "Sorry Chopper, but
you really don't look like a 'Marie'!"

Chopper just stared at Erin, glad that they were the last ones in
the hall besides the hawk-eyed Mayor. Her half-lidded gaze just dripped
with sarcasm. "Thanks, Erin. I really needed that."

Abigail just tried to smile, and knew how awkward it had to look.
"Well, I think it's pretty."

It was just too bad that that set Rathley off again.

***

In the following two days very little transpired about the
information that Lilis had brought back to the town, and Abigail found
that she had needed those few days of rest and recuperation more than
she had known. When she wasn't being shot at she had spent the last
three days either sitting in or walking with a brahmin drawn cart, but
during that time she had probably been more keen and alert than she
ever had during classes in Vault 42. She had imprinted every scrap of
information about the raiders into her brain, or every bit that she
could cram in anyway. She had studied, and even been somewhat initiated
into, that strange subclass of wastelander society call the mercenary.
She had read through her old, exhausting diaries, and plotted out the
first routes and locations on her PipBoy's map. And she'd had the
stress of Sharn, the one person she trusted most on the surface,
finding out about her sexuality. Her and everyone else, if what Erin
had told her was any indication.

All in all, it had been a tiring three days, neatly punctuated by an
unpleasant note of murder and amoral deal making. She dreaded to think
what life up there was going to be like when her period came around.

As such she took the chance to relax eagerly. The first day back she
slept until well after sunup, eleven AM in her time, before setting out
to explore the town again. She had a great deal of money to spend now,
but naturally she did not really find anything that she truly wanted,
now that she could have bought it without reservation. Her concept of
ownership out of necessity rather than desire was simply too strong and
ingrained after her rationed vault life. She bought herself some lunch,
iguana-kebab, and a few burrow nuts just on a whim. She didn't even
know what they were used for, but the curious attention it got her
helped her pass the time. Townies, she decided, were a much more sedate
lot than the Mercs or Scavs, but at the same time they were much less
remarkable, as people. They might have been as harsh and crude as
Jassic or Rathley, but they did not have their keen awareness or
vibrancy. Abigail was saddened when she realised that she had come out
of that little meet and greet at the market remembering very few of
their names. Without seeing them in their element, like she had with
the members of the Merc caravan, the faces seemed to blur together.
Even in the vault that had never happened before, even though every one
of them had worn the same identical uniform.

Perhaps the influx of new names and faces had simply overwhelmed her
for now. Then again, in a similar surprise it was her victory against
Jack of the Diamonds, and the pigrat fight, that people remembered her
for. Not one of them mentioned the fact that she had just risked her
life against the self same raiders at the gates of their own fortress
home.

She felt a little bad, because when she reached a rather more
rundown area of town, with an unpleasant smell about it, she was almost
relieved to find that it was the ghoul quarter. Whatever else could be
said about him, Christian's was an easy face to remember. And not
because half of it was missing. He was a man who was interesting, for
his history and his attitude if nothing else.

"Excuse me?" Abigail asked, stopping a old, half-dead woman as she
shuffled stiffly down the street. "I'm looking for Christian? Does
he... live around here?"

The woman was far less of a mess than Christian had been, but her
sagging greenish skin was still a sight to make Abigail hesitant. At
least none of her bones were showing, until she gave Abigail a wide,
toothless grin which showed off her jawbones behind her rubbery lips.
"Ohhh, Helloo Abbyyy. Yes," she said in a melodic but ponderous and
ancient voice. "If what we doo is caalled living, then hee lives heere,
thaat he does. Juust follow mee. Chriistiaan has toold us aall about
youu, dear giirl."

The ghoul, Mona, slowly led Abigail to the worryingly signed 'Seven
Feet Under'. It was a fairly large building compared to the others in
the ghoul quarter, but still only one storey, and despite its clean
clay walls the roof was little more than several large sheets of
corrugated metal welded together.

"Thiis is the oonly place juust for uus ghouuls," the ancient woman
Mona said. "Thiis toown is goood to uus. But sometiimes it is niice to
bee with thoose who knoow you beest."

Abigail humoured the old ghoul with a smile. She could imagine that
it was, if you actually had others who really did know you best. "Yes.
Yes, it is. May I?"

Mona nodded slowly, and opened the door for them both. "Of couurse,
deaar. You are aalwaays welcome heere."

Christian and his friends were the only ones there, the four of them
taking up very little of a large table as they played with a worn and
chipped set of genuine imitation ivory dominoes.

"Hi Christian," Abigail greeted as Mona slowly but eagerly led her
over. "I thought I would come by and say hello."

"Abby, girl, now ain't that jus' the nicest surprise you could'a
given us. Nigel, go and move your tumble-down old ass and let her sit."

Abigail was about to protest, but the ghoul Christian spoke to was
already hauling himself out of the padded chair and moving his dominoes
next to the others', while Mona offered her the seat. "Really, you
don't have to..."

"Bah, don't have to! If we get a smooth skin pleasant enough to come
visit us, we ain't gonna make her sit on no wooden stools!" Christian
and his friends smiled, showing off what teeth they had left.

"Plhease," another of the female ghouls said, "whe are glahd to meet
hyou at lhast, Habeegail. Whe have heard mahny good things habout hyou.
Hy am Seelyuh."

Of all of them, in their various scarred and gory states, it was
that woman Celia that Abigail felt sorrier for than any. She had
flowing grey hair that ran down her back, but it was not thick enough
to conceal the bones and dull muscles that showed behind her neck, and
the skin was obviously missing for a good way down as well, since the
ridges of her spine were far too prominent beneath the pale purple
cloth of her dress. She was also missing her right arm. Her bicep
emerged from her discoloured skin only to wither away to nothingness,
leaving sinew and bare bone where her elbow joint should have started.
But worst was her mouth. Unlike the others, who simply had strange and
heavy accents that betrayed their extreme age, Celia came across as
much younger, and her speech impediment seemed more man made. A large
chunk of her tongue was missing down the left side, and her lips were
torn and frayed. It was no doubt made worse since, while she still had
most of her teeth, they were all broken into jagged looking shapes and
sat at awkward angles in her gums, waiting to catch those abused lips
as she spoke.

Yet it did not concern her one bit. Her eyes and words only spoke of
earnest and almost innocent acceptance, laced with the hope that
Abigail might respond in kind. She was obviously trying so hard, and it
made Abigail want to weep.

While that afternoon was an emotional one for Abigail, simply
because of who she spent it with, she came away feeling better about
herself, and about Corva, than she ever had since leaving her vault.
Even if they were, as a few of the Townies had put it, just ghouls.

***

"Hanging out with ghouls and disreputable medics... You're intent on
making a weird image for yourself, aren't you Abby?"

Abigail just shrugged as she held the bandage that Chopper was
winding around her patient's wrist. "They're nice people. The ghouls I
mean, not you."

Chopper and Sharn, also playing medical assistant, laughed. Their
farm girl patient also seemed both amused and a little bewildered.
"Well, they're nice enough, but they *are* mutants. They're, you know,
weird."

"Eh, that's okay," Chopper said as she finished fixing the wrap, and
taped it to the girl's hand. "Vault dwellers are just as bad, aren't
you Abby?"

"I suppose we'd have to be," Abigail said sarcastically. "I'm
spending all morning with you."

Chopper manhandled the girl's wrist around, watching her face to see
how much pain she was still in now that it was bound up and otherwise
immobile. Abigail could see that Sharn was itching to take over there,
but they were both playing student, and Chopper had already told them
once that they should be paying attention rather than feeling sorry for
the poor fools who came to her.

"Yeah, that should be fine in a couple of days." Chopper advised as
she let the girl go. "Just stay away from the manual labour until you
can move it all the way around without it twingeing. Also put something
cold on it for half an hour or so, morning and evening, that should
help the swelling. And stay out from under the brahmin hooves next
time, or it might end up broken after all."

As the farm girl thanked her and paid out her caps, Abigail had to
ask. "No offence to Dr Chopper here, but why put up with her brutality
just for a sprained wrist when you could go to the town doctor
instead?"

"Well, I thought I might have torn something?" the girl said. "I
never had a sprain hurt or swell up like that before. And, uh, the town
doc's a man, and it's nice to know the person poking you knows how
women feel."

"Yeah, she knows how women feel alright," Sharn said, not in the
least convinced. "Years of practice by palpation."

"Palpation?" Abigail asked. That was the first hole in her
vocabulary that Sharn had ever found.

Sharn shrugged. "That's what Kyle said. You know..."

She made a groping motion in the air, to which Chopper nodded,
leering slightly.

"Tactile examination," she explained.

The girl blushed and nodded, "Yeah, well, at least you're not a guy,
you know?"

Honestly Abigail would have preferred being treated by a man rather
than Chopper on occasion. Her last eye opening examination had been far
too invasive for her liking.

"So," Chopper said to Abigail as the girl left, "how's the leg? You
weren't limping at the Diamond Ring."

Abigail nodded. "My shin aches, but that's it. It stopped hurting
pretty quickly. My foot was fine, thanks to that stimpak."

"Right," Chopper said, lifting her scalpel and a pair of tweezers
from her medical tin, "roll your leg up then. It's about time I taught
Sharn how to remove stitches."

"Shouldn't we..." Abigail started, but looking around she could see
that there wasn't a queue of eager and waiting invalids that required
their attention. "Alright."

She did as she was told, putting her foot up on Chopper's knee where
the doctor sat, and she closed her eyes. This she didn't want to see.

"So, obviously you want to check if the wound is properly sealed."

Abigail felt Chopper prodding and teasing the scar that was forming.

"Then just treat the stitch like it was in any other material. And
for god's sake pull it from the knotted end."

Pull she did, and to Abigail it felt unpleasantly like an obstinate
worm was being pried out of her leg. "Oh god, that's so gross," she
said, keeping her eyes shut tight.

Chopper ignored her. "Don't worry if it pulls or bleeds. The skin
has healed around it, so it might not want to let go too easily at
first. That's also why you should mind what use to sew her up with.
It's less likely to stick itself into the flesh with this."

Three removed stitches later Abigail was more than happy to put her
tingling scar away when their next patient appeared, red faced and
anxious.

"So," Chopper said, the absolute image of professionalism. "What's
up?"

"I... uh, I think I might be pregnant," the blushing woman said
quietly.

"And..." Chopper had to venture, "you want to get rid of it?"

"What? No!" The girl exclaimed, before quieting down again, "I just,
you know..."

She leaned over the table and whispered something into Chopper's
ear, to which she doctor just shook her head.

"Heh, right. Take off the trousers and underwear, and hop up on
here."

The girl just stared at her. "You mean... out here?"

Sharn and Abigail could see the point. Their practice was just
Chopper sitting on a stool behind her blood stained examination table,
by the side of the street outside the inn.

"Well, we can take it inside if you *really* want to."

"Come on," Sharn said to the girl, allaying her fears, "we'll go up
to our room. Won't we, Chopper?"

"Like I said, if you really want."

***

Abigail decided to leave Chopper and Sharn to it for the afternoon.
She was surprised how much basic first aid the pair had managed to
teach her between them, along with the few but varied patients that
sought them out. However, Sharn seemed to have far more interest in
learning than Abigail could conjure up for the day.

Instead she decided to take a closer look at the less residential
half of the town, but no sooner had she chosen a place for lunch she
found herself being made a very surprising offer. Erin intended to
provide a meal for them both, and had sent out a member of the town
police to track her down once Erin had no longer seen Abigail with
Chopper from her second floor room on Main Street.

"So you were spying on me?" Abigail asked as she was served with a
light and aromatic soup, sharing a table with the young Mayor's
daughter at her home.

"There are only three buildings on Main Street that have two
floors," Erin said, as if nothing was amiss. "Our house is one of them,
so I have a good view of the entire road. You were a difficult trio to
miss, giving out medicine in the open like that, and away from Market
Street."

"So," Abigail said, satisfied for the moment. "Why am I here then?
You could have invited Chopper."

"She would not have accepted," Erin said simply. "And while I have
no intention of replacing her with you, I have been much lonelier since
she decided she was no longer interested in me."

Abigail's caution was dispelled by that admission. "I'm sorry to
hear it."

Erin gave her a wan smile. "I am sorry it ever had to happen this
way. I was easily swept up by her charm and spirit and wit."

"You do know that she is inconsiderate, and rather cruel at times,
don't you?"

Erin nodded. "Yes. I know all too well. I do not love her because
she is perfect. I love her because she made me feel as though *I* was
perfect." She chuckled. "I'm sorry, I didn't bring you hear to hear my
confessions."

"No," Abigail allowed, "it seems like you need to talk it out."

Erin looked grateful. "Thank you. It's not as though I can confide
in my father. At first I thought he was the reason that Chopper left
me, but I know better now."

"He didn't threaten her at all? He certainly doesn't seem to like
her."

"Oh, he threatened her alright," Erin said, "but Chopper did not
care in the least. It was her adventurous spirit that took her away."

Abigail frowned. "I don't think I understand."

"Chopper is a wanderer," Erin explained. "Did you know she came here
from the west coast, below the Cobalt Line? She needs to see new
things, hear new stories." She shrugged helplessly. "Find new
girlfriends. I think that maybe I am now simply too familiar to her. I
have no more surprises, and no more layers for her to discover. Or
perhaps she preferred me when I was more easily led, and did not know
what I wanted from her."

"Is it that complicated?" Abigail asked. Chopper had told her why
she had broken up with Erin, after all, and while she couldn't tell
Erin that it was simply because she was weak, she could try and give
the girl a more reasonable explanation. "I do think you're right.
Chopper is a wanderer. And you're not. You want her to stay here, and
she wants you to leave with her, maybe?"

Erin looked as though she could accept that suggestion, but it
didn't do anything to lift her spirits. "Yes, I wanted her to stay here
with me. But I would not object too much when she left to work in
another town, or when she was hired by your scavenger friends. I waited
patiently, worrying for her life every time she was gone, and when she
returned I would be so relieved I could not bring myself to leave her
alone for days.

"But she never asked me to join her out there. I could not have
gone, but the offer was never made. I thought she was happy to have me
waiting and agonising about her return. I thought that she enjoyed
knowing that I was hung on tenterhooks while she repaired her friends
in the desert and rooted around for trinkets or technology. She never
told me that what I was doing was wrong for her."

"You didn't tell her that you didn't like what she was doing either,
did you?"

Erin was quiet a moment, her soup bowl now empty. "No. I tried not
to do anything that might push her away from me."

"Even if she is a bitch sometimes," Abigail wondered, "maybe she was
doing the same. I guess you'd know better than me, but it sounds like a
hell of a lot to put up with."

"Yes, it was," Erin agreed. "But I still do not want to give her up
for an easier life. I guess, with many other women behind her, I am not
as important to her as that."

Abigail shrugged. She could sympathise, but she was the last person
to be giving advice. "Maybe she's just being a bitch about it."

Erin gave her a subtly amused look. "Then you really don't have any
sort of relationship with her, secret or otherwise."

"If you want to keep chasing her then I think you're a glutton for
punishment, but I'm not going to get in the way!"

***

When the Mayor finally put up the call notice for mercenaries again,
not one of those who had survived the attrition at the Diamond Ring
failed to turn up. Even the abused weasel Lyster, who Chopper had
needed to treat again for an infection stemming from riding on the
corpse cart, returned. They wanted to know what their lives had almost
been traded for.

Several others came as well, of course, though whether they would
stay would be another matter. The Mayor regarded them all equally. If
they were willing to put their lives on the line for his town, albeit
for a profit, that was all he needed to ask of them.

He was flanked this time both by Lilis and by a new face. This young
man, in his late twenties if Abigail had to guess, was rather square
jawed and looked too serious, or possibly jar headed, to be taken
seriously next to the laid back or quietly confident mercenaries.
However, while his face was too blank, his gear spoke volumes. He was
dressed head to toe in the same shapeless, vivid green armour that
Kirren had worn on their mission; synthetic and allowing movement, but
solid as a rock. And, unlike Kirren, the stiff armour covered his legs
as well as his body, and he wore a helmet of it strapped to his head.
And, sitting neatly in the large holster around his right thigh, was a
very large, square-ish gun. It looked to be a shotgun, but bulkier and
quite unlike the round barrelled variety the mercenaries had carried.
Stephanie's had looked more threatening, but only because it had been
so overtly designed for overkill. This man's weapon was a close second
because it concealed its unknown power beneath more metal than should
have been necessary.

"Given the show Jack made last week before his brains were blown
out, you can all guess why you are here. The Hearts are apparently a
threat to this town, and we need to remove that threat. Thankfully we
have been able to get some information about the nature of this threat
out of the Diamond King, so we know what we are up against.

"The Hearts are *not* gathering themselves together, at least not
yet. As such we do not expect them to make a massed attack on any of
the towns around here, and thankfully we won't have to return the
favour."

"So what's the fucking problem chief?!" someone called out from the
mercenary audience.

"The problem," Mayor Golway replied in irritation, "would be that
one of their camps has found themselves a dangerous new recruit, and
one that has the Diamonds scared enough to leave them well alone
despite having lost several raiding parties to them already. He has
apparently made their camp nigh-on unstoppable."

The hecklers spoke again, "What, it's the fucking Jokers or
something?"

"*He*," Seb yelled back. "That's singular, idiot."

"This new recruit is a mutant of some kind. Lilis, if you will?"

The 'exclusive' prostitute nodded. "This is how the Diamond King
described him. 'A huge monster man, like a Brotherhood of Steel
fucker..."

The new face beside the mayor twitched.

"...in their fucking ten foot armour. Except he wasn't wearing any
armour. He spoke like a dumb tribal..."

This time it was Sharn's turn to twitch.

"... but he could tear a man in half with his bare hands. Not that
he needs to, since his machine gun could cut an entire caravan's guard
to pieces in the blink of an eye, and then set fire to it. The rest of
the Heart camp's party didn't have to do a thing.' This thing was, in
the Diamond King's words, some sort of a 'super mutant'. Oh, and he's
green to boot."

"What," called one man, "it's a fuckin' ghoul pumped up on buffout
or somethin'? Ha!"

Abigail was far less amused. "That's them!" she shouted, leaping to
her feet and drawing every pair of eyes in the room. She turned to her
companions. They all remembered Abigail's description, and couldn't
quite believe that they were hearing it again. If Abigail was right,
Lilis wasn't giving the monster the credit it was due.

And Abigail glared at the woman, the anger roiling in her stomach.
"Those are the bastards that murdered my vault!"

***

To be continued...

***

Please send any comments and constructive criticism to:

nutzoide@nutzoide.net

They are always greatly appreciated, and there is no better reward for
a writer than to hear back from the readers.

Many thanks to Richard King for his proofreading assistance.

http://www.nutzoide.net

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show details Nov 8 (3 days ago)

Yeah, submissions have been pretty light lately...I delayed the update for a week, but we still don't have much. Maybe everyone's busy with NaNoWriMo instead of their yuri fanfiction.

Can't wait to read this!

-Sonata

- Show quoted text -
On Sat, Nov 8, 2008 at 2:38 PM, Nutzoide <nutzoide@nutzoide.net> wrote:

- Show quoted text -
Hi Sonata. Have things gone quiet?

I have the next chapter of After the Vault ready for the archive. Still no change in story info (basics repeated ad nauseam below), but that /will/ change next chapter!

Title: After the Vault
Author: Nutzoide
Series: Non-Anime (Fallout)
Completed: No

David

After the Vault: Chapter 06

Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of Fallout or anything that
comprises it. This is a non-profit story written solely for my own
enjoyment and that of anyone who wishes to read it. The story and all
original characters are mine. Please don't use them without permission.

***

After the Vault

-A Fallout Fan-Fiction by Nutzoide-

Chapter 06