[Krylo]

If You Kill the Brain, Then You Kill the Ghoul

I stare out over the wasteland for a minute, and wonder why I even care about finding my father. What am I going to do when I see him? Will it make any of this better?

Can anything fix this broken world?

I close my eyes for a moment, and think back to the Vault.




Jonas.



Mr. Brotch.



Amata.




My father.

And I let out a slow sigh. I've lost so much. Maybe. . . I just want to find some part of it to have again. Or maybe I want to punch the old man 'cause his leaving took it all. Maybe I just want something that feels like home again.

Doesn't matter, why, anyway, I decide as I shake my head, and shove my hands deep into my pockets before setting off through the dusty winds of the wasteland, and into the jagged stone of what must have once been civilization.




Pipboy says the signal is originating from across there, but of course. . .




Nothing can ever be easy.







I'm having a hard time making the shots at this distance across the water. Mostly I'm just used to close quarters skirmishes, and this old hunting rifle is held together with duct tape and prayers from what I can tell, so I sling it next to my assault rifle, and leap into the water, to swim across.

I can feel bullets whizzing through the water around me, but they can't see me clearly, and when I come up. . .





Well I was always pretty quick, and this gun makes quick and messy work out of them. However, I feel a spray of rocks on my cheek. . .




. . . shit. One's got a minigun, and the other a hunting rifle, I roll behind the tires next to me.




They don't do much to stop the bullets, but the beasts are having trouble getting a clear bead on me as I line up my own shots.





And they've got bigger heads than humans.

That split like watermelons.

I pick myself up and climb away from the river.



Metro entrance. I take a look down at my pipboy, and it seems like the old line should lead to where the signal's coming from. Hopefully they aren't collapsed.

Feel a little more comfortable traveling in tunnels than out in the open. Too exposed. Too easy to catch a bullet and not know where it's from.



These seem to be in better repair than most of the other tunnels i've been through. Lights are even working. Not sure if that's good or bad yet, though.

I head to my right and into the back rooms, to see what I can see. . .



Protectron.





Huh, and it still works. I think I've got. . .



Yeah, I pull out a metroticket I grabbed out of a box back in Marigold.



Well, that's good. Was afraid I had woken up another pain in the ass, but after scanning my ticket it just stomps out and I'm left pondering for a moment as I rummage about looking for food, caps, ammo, that kind of thing. . . Until I hear the quiet zwip of laser fire.



More of those. . . rat. . . mole. . . things. Looks like waking the thing up worked out after all. Tunnel's collapsed ahead though, but luckily. . .



I manage to find some service tunnels.



And looks like I'm heading in the right direction, as well. GNR is where I'm heading. Don't know whose symbol that is, or why a news station is an 'outpost' but it seems pretty doubtful it's a different place with the same name in the same direction, so I figure I may as well follow the arrows.



Huh? Is that? Looks like Gob? Maybe they can give me a hand.

"Hey!"

The dessicated corpses look up, drooling with nothing but madness and hunger in their eyes and I realize they're nothing like the bartender, except, perhaps, in body odor. The fetid stench of rotting meat washes over me as they run forward, the simple chain gate doing little to slow them down.



Can I pose a question?



How do you kill what is dead?



I just shoot from the hip



And I aim for the head.


I find myself humming a little as. . .

One

Two

Three

Four rounds fire off in quick succession, each blasting apart a. . . gob called himself a ghoul? These ghouls, too?

Who knows?

I holster the gun and look down at their bodies, covering my mouth and nose with my sleeve to fight back the stench. I'm handling this far too well, and that's bothering me, but maybe it shouldn't.

Maybe it's a good thing.

Freeze up or panic and I might have been torn to shreds. Maybe this cold apathy--this detachment--is necessary to keep me alive. Still, though, I know that a few months ago, back at the vault, the thought of things like this were enough to terrify me. . . but now?

And that's frightening. More frightening than they ever were.

Well, can't waste time on philosophy now. . .

I decide to take a look around and find a small office.



With a safe.



Laser Pistol, and some kind of protocol for its use, along with a simple instruction manual in their use. I decide to check on the protocol just for fun.









Pretty much common sense, though I'll admit that while I knew firing a laser in a room full of flammable gas would be a bad idea, it wasn't something I'd really thought about, but now I realize that down in these tunnels, I might be able to use a laspistol for some real anarchy.

Not that I any chance to. Looks like there's a leak above where those ghouls were, but I already killed all of them, and the rest of the tunnels seem pretty empty.



Still on the right track, though. Pipboy says I'm getting close, too.

I hear a growl, though, as I look at the sign and glance to my right.



There were two of them. Were.

Starting to run low on 14mm ammo, though.



Looks like she must have been a fresh kill. Judging by the bite marks. Also looks like they were eating her. Starting with the stomach.

I hold my breath as I pat her down and manage to find a few clips of 5.56 for my AR. Good thing, too. I was pretty much out after those damn ants. Some microfusion cells as well.

Also find laying next to her. . .



Damned things in AWFUL shape, though. The emitter arrays are entirely out of alignment, and I'm pretty sure the lens is actually cracked. It fires, but no where near at full capacity. Of course, if I can find the parts and get it working again. . . well the Lasrifle doesn't share any of the usage problems of the laspistol. The larger housing gave the designers room to put in a much more adequate focusing array and power supply. This thing can cut through steel given a second or two of concentrated fire.

Well, this one can't.

But you know, if it weren't beaten all to hell.

I'm pretty happy with this, as I sling it on my back and probably aren't paying as much attention as I should be when I hear a low rumble from behind me. I spin around.



"FUCK!"



The yell and the gunshot seems to draw attention, however, as I hear movement all around me.







My heart is pounding in my chest as the last one finally falls and I look around. Only a few bullets left. Hope I don't run into many more of the damn things.

That was too close.



Too much to ask for.

A few bullets blow them away, as well as one who was lurking in a side room, and soon I'm down to four bullets.

Let's hope I don't need them.



That's not the outline of a ghoul. That's one of those super mutants.

I'm just going to stop hoping for things, I decide as I pull out a grenade.



The blast stuns the beast for a moment, and I follow up with my old hunting rifle, putting him down without incident. Of course, the blast drew the attention of some other denizens of the undergound.





But they never see me before the bullets tear them apart and put them down.

. . . I'm really glad Mersetti doesn't have these things. Maybe they used to? Maybe the family chased them out? . . . Maybe they'll come back now that the family is gone?

. . .I really don't want to think about this. I'm going to have to figure out a way to secure the bedroom door when I'm sleeping. And sleep with a gun.



Well, I don't like being out in the open, but I'm actually kind of relieved to see the exit from the tunnels here.



I move forward cautiously, but I still hear the sound of gun fire and feel the stinging in my arm before I turn to see another pair of mutants. I start to return fire, and manage to take down one when there's a flash of red and the other goes down.



I spin toward the flash almost immediately, and I manage to get eyes on. . . is that T-51b armor? I remember some old news reels in history about Amercian GIs using it in Anchorage near the end of the war. What's it doing here?

I stand up and hop across the shifting debris, and get the attention of the armored soldiers.



"The Super Mutants have overrun our brothers at the GNR building, and we're headed there to back them up. You can tag along if you want, but keep your head down and try not to do anything. . . stupid."

She's got an attitude. I kinda like her, though. For some reason.

Besides, something about her lecture stings my pride, and we're all heading the same way. Let's see if I can contibute enough to to make her eat those words.





Blundered? Really? Alright then, it's on.



One down. . . and that's it for the 14mm.



I switch off for the lasrifle for the mutant in the window. I can barely see him. . . and the laser rifle is barely focusing a beam. I'm pretty sure I score some burns on him before he goes down, but it's pretty much useless, like I had figured.



Laspistol doesn't do much better, but I do manage to burn a hole in a super mutant's skull after a few blasts.



Manage to take out the one above with it as well. The beams aren't very high intensity, but this one was actually in pretty good condition so the focusing is good, and I can place them pretty well. Weird to be firing a pistol without any kick to it, but that really just makes the aiming a little easier.



Even if it does take ten or more shots to put any of these things down.

Only reason I'm getting so many down is because I'm out ahead of most of the squad. And I seem to have a quicker draw.




Eventually we reach the courtyard of the GNR building, and have the Muties pincered between the power armor wearing squad at my back, and the ones guarding the building itself.

I quickly pick out the leader and pull out my shotgun, rolling through the bullets from the mutants and red hot lances of super heated light from the men and women behind me.





He goes down and I step on the barrel of his gun, using his arm as a lever to flip it up into my hands, still loaded. I spin around to face the rest of the mutants. . .



And find the area's clear.

One of the recruits fires a few rounds in the air, and another man tells her to calm down and stop wasting ammo.

"Aw, come on. We just kicked their asses!"

"We need to make a sweep. You head over there, and I'll check over here. We'll celebrate once we're inside."

"Damn right we will!"

She says as they split apart.

WHUMP!



I turn in the direction of the noise. What the hell was that?



WHUMP WHUMP!

It's coming from the direction the less experienced soldier is heading. Doesn't she hear it? Doesn't anyone else?

I reach up a hand to call her back over when . . .



A piece of truck flies past my head.

"BEHEMOTH!" The voice is coming from behind me. Sounds like the lady leader.



Jesus! It's huge!

Somebody shouts something about a fatman, but I'm not hearing anything but my blood pumping in my ears.



The gun rattles in my hands as I slap in magazine after magazine.



Until I'm out, and it's charging right toward me. The assault rifle hits the ground, and the chainblade comes out.

I duck under its giant club, the air swishes past me and run and jump in, the blade finds flesh, and gore sprays out of the beast's stomach. I can hear laser fire sizzling against its body around me, as it reaches an arm down to swipe me off.

I jam my free hand into the wound I've created to keep myself from falling and spin, slicing off two fingers before jamming the blade back into its chest. It starts to fall and I tumble off backwards.



. . .It's not moving anymore.

I can hear the woman leader speaking behind me. "It's not your fault Vargas. . ." sounds like she's comforting the man who ordered the new girl to check this side.

I don't really listen, sliding my chainblade back, but I turn around when I feel a hand on my shoulder.



Then she cracks a smile and laughs. "Though I haven't seen anyone that damn crazy in awhile!"

With a cough she returns to business, "Anyway, area's secure, so you're free to head in if you need."

I nod. "Yeah. Thanks. Hey, what's your name, anyway?"

"Sentinel Lyons, leader of Lyon's Pride," she replies with not a small amount of pride. Makes sense given the troop name.

I nod. "Good to meet you Lyons. . . and, sorry about. . ."

"Initiate Reddin," she nods at me. "She died well," her tone of voice says she's grateful for the sentiment even if she's putting on a strong face. "And in the end, that's all that matters."

I just nod and excuse myself to head inside



Nice place. Probably seen better days.

I hear someone tell me Three Dog is upstairs, so I head up. He's the one Dad went to see, after all.



“With his grim, grisly dog that keeps the door, are senseless stories, idle tales, dreams, whimsies, and no more.”

Before I can ponder where that came from, or what it means, the man starts to speak.




"I am Three Dog: Jockey of discs and teller of truths. Lord and master over the finest radio station to grace the Wastes. Galaxy News Radio. And you, well. . . I know who you are. Heard about you leavin that Vault, travelin' the unknown. Just like dear old Dad, hmm? Met him already. . ."

Well, looks like whatever part of me dredged up that old quote had this guy pegged, but how the hell does he know about me? I don't ask that, though. I'm not sure I even want to know.

". . .Couldn't have just said hi and let us get down to business?"

"Hey, when you're in the Good Fight, you gotta give it all you got and never ever hold back." I try my best not to roll my eyes. Not sure I succeeded but he doesn't seem to notice either way, continuing on with his unnecessary chatter, about dazzle, and razzle, and spreading things (words I think. . . hope).

"Yeah, listen, I'm just trying to find my dad, so if we could maybe just get down to that?"

He sombers up a bit before replying, "Listen, I'd like to share, I really really would, but if I help you, and you just leave me hangin'. . . I would have failed the Fight, and that can't happen. Dig?"

Nothing in this world is free. "Fine, what do you need?"

"Galaxy News Radio is my baby. I love it, I feed i--"

"No. No more of that. I don't care. Just. Tell. Me. What. You. Need." I'm glaring at him as I say it, and that probably came off harsher than it should have, but in my defense I'm pretty exhausted. I've been fighting giant ants, crawling through tunnels, and fighting off zombies and mutants for over an entire day, I'm running low on ammo, and supplies, and I just want to get done with this conversation so I can take a nap.

He. . . seems a little hurt, but he only takes a moment before continuing. "Fine, fine, no chatter. Here's the thing, see, Galaxy News Radio needs a dish to reach out past the DC ruins, and we had one up on the Washington Mon--" he sighs as I glare harder and purse my lips.

"Alright, then, real short version, I need you to head into the Museum of Technology and get a dish off the VirgoII lander and stick it back up on the washington Monument. Gonna be a lotta super mut--"

"Right, I'll get on it first thing tomorrow. Where can I sleep?"

His shoulders droop, defeated as he points off to a room.



For now I sleep. Tomorrow I check around the building for bullets and supplies, and then go and get a dish.

---------- Post added at 04:54 AM ---------- Previous post was at 04:54 AM ----------

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