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 Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2009 11:18 am
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The group got up at the crack of dawn. Gregori started another fire, and Rory put on a pot of coffee. Abe got up, but he was shaken from the dream he had witnessed that night. He had been a human, a regular human, and now he was a monster. What did he have to be on time for, and what was that blast?
“Abe, you feeling all right?” asked Ahab as he brought over a cup of coffee.
“Yeah, sure,” he said as he took the cup and nodded, looking towards the door.
“Well, I hope so, because today is going to be one Hell of a day,” he said as he walked away to get his minigun.
Not five blocks from where Ahab, Abe, and the others, there was an open square full of the super mutants, all of it leading to the open waste. By said exit from the Hellish ruins, Potter, the final member of Ahab’s crew, sat in a tall tower, overlooking the scene. He adjusted his black hood and black leather armor, and looked at the band of mutants through the scope of his .308 sniper rifle.
“Potter,” he heard a familiar voice crackle over his earpiece, “Potter, this is Rory, over.”
“Rory, this is Potter, over.”
“Potter, we’re about ten or fifteen minutes from the exit zone, what’s the area status, over?”
Potter scanned the area through his scope, analyzing the numbers of their enemies. “We have thirteen super mutants, and one, no, two brutes in full armor, over.”
“And the Hawks,” said Rory. “You said you saw the Hawks yesterday; any more movement out of them, over?”
“Surprisingly, no,” said Potter as he continued to look through his scope. “They just came in and then didn’t do anything. I haven’t seen hide or hair of them, over.”
“I don’t know which I’m more of;” said Rory, “relieved or suspicious, over.”
“Just keep your head clear, little brother,” said Potter as he stepped away from the rifle. “This isn’t the worst situation we’ve been in, but it’s a fight nonetheless, over and out.” Potter looked about his little sniper’s nest; his rifle was set at the window overlooking the square, with ten clips sitting beside it. Should the need arise, he also had a few frag grenades given to him by Gregori.
He had to agree with his little brother on one thing though, and that was the matter of the Hawks. They were always coming into the ruins, scavenging for supplies. The fact that they hadn’t reared their ugly heads by now was quite curious.
Abe and the others hid behind a small pile of rubble looking out on the square. There were monsters, more of them now. “That one we saw was probably a scout, sent out to try and find some food,” said Ahab as he looked at the mutants as well. “I hope you’re good with that shotgun.”
Gregori came walking in from the back of the group, a pleased smile on his face. “I’m glad no one took it! I hid well, but you can never be sure!” in his hands he carried what looked like a large metal tube.
“How many missiles do you have for it?” asked Ahab.
“Well, there’s bad news,” said Gregori. “My other missiles rolled into a puddle and were ruined. I just have one.”
“I see, I see,” said Ahab as he stroked his beard. “Here’s how it’s going to go: Anna you run out and take Gregori’s left, while Rory, you take the right. Gregori, try to hit as many of them as you can; aim for a group, or at least try to kill the brutes. After you fire, I’ll move up to fire, and you can fall back with your grenades. Abe you have the most important job. I want you to run forward into the middle of the square, and kill as many as you can.”
Everyone was taken aback by the final part of Ahab’s statement. “What are you doing, Ahab?!” asked Anna. “You haven’t even seen him fight yet. If he fails and gets killed, we could all get hurt or killed.”
“Have a little faith,” said Ahab as he looked to Anna, and then to Ahab. “I’ve never let the group down before, now have I?”
“No, but…”
“Then its settled!” he said as he looked to the group. “Now everyone get in position.”
No one in the group was more nervous than Abe. He took the combat shotgun in his hands, his bat in a makeshift sheath on his back. The first time he had seen one of the mutants, he had frozen up, and now he was going to be in the middle of a big group of them. At the moment, he thought about how nice it would have been to just stay in his little metro tunnel, and it wouldn’t be the last time.
“Alright, on my mark,” said Ahab as everyone got into position. “Three, two, one.”
The time could not have been better, as both of the brutes were in the corner of the square, standing over a cooking fire. Gregori ran straight out, lifted the missile launcher, and fired. Abe heard a whoosh, and then a tremendous explosion as both of the mutants were enveloped in a cloud of fire and smoke. Anna and Rory began to fire into the group, while Ahab fanned to the left and right with the minigun. Potter was the last the enter the fray, firing with accuracy, dropping some with single shots.
Abe ran out in the middle of the din, bat in one hand and shotgun in the other. One of the mutants ran at him with a sledgehammer, and he fired two shots into its face, sending it to the ground, where he finished it with a swing of his bat. One more rushed him with an assault rifle, and he knocked it away with his bat, finishing the beast with a point blank blast to the face.
As Abe was flanked be the monsters and flying bullets left and right, the others took notice of his skill and strength. Even Potter, who was seeing Abe for the first time, was astounded that this one ghoul was actually putting up a fight against the super mutants.
When the shooting stopped, Abe was standing in the middle of the bodies, looking like some fearsome captain on an ancient battlefield. He was breathing hard, but sure enough, he was unscathed.
“I told you he could take it,” said Ahab as he walked forward. Anna said nothing.
Suddenly, one of the brutes charged out of the smoke cloud, his left arm missing just above his elbow. In his remaining hand, he carried a super sledge, everyone was out of ammo, and fumbled to reload their guns. Potter was the quickest, but the brute was charging too fast, and he couldn’t line up a shot.
Abe dropped his bat, taking the shotgun in both hands. He fired three shots, spraying buckshot into the brute’s legs, slowing him down. The super mutant swung his hammer, and Abe sidestepped him. With the weight of the hammer, combined with his injured legs, the mutant tumbled to the ground. He thrashed and roared, but Abe ended his life with his last shell.
The others were cheering and yelled as they ran closer. Potter had grabbed his things and was running out of the bottom of the tower. Abe, for the first time, felt like smiling, and he did.
There was a white flash and a loud bang, deafening everyone. Abe couldn’t see, and after a stout blow to the back of his head, he was on the ground. The last thing he remembered was seeing hundreds of feet running towards the disabled group.
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Posted: Tue Jun 16, 2009 6:36 am
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Posted: Wed Jun 17, 2009 3:37 pm
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When Abe came to, the others were already awake, their hands chained behind their backs in a large metal cage. The cage sat in the middle of the empty square. Abe looked around, seeing no less than a hundred men and women in varying suits of green armor, each with a green Mohawk.
“Ah, Abe! Good to see you awake!” said Ahab, looking as cheery as ever. “You were out so long that I thought the light from those flash grenades might have permanently blinded you or something.”
“Who are these people?” asked Abe as he looked at his fierce captors.
“The people we hoped we would avoid;” said Potter as he sat up from a corner of the cage. “They’re the Hawks, a group of raiders we’ve clashed with in the past.”
“You see,” said Rory, “a long time ago, we got a job to take care of the Hawks once and for all. They used to be one of the biggest raider gangs in the Wasteland before Gregori pissed them off!”
All eyes shifted to Gregori. “What are you looking at?” he asked. “You told me to blow up, so I blow up! I take orders well, I do job! If you wanted clean, effective, you get Potter to do job. If you want things messy, you get Gregori to do job!”
“Essentially,” continued Anna, “Gregori blew up their main hangout, and four fifths of their forces, leaving what you have here.”
As they were speaking, they were being approached, by a tall raider. His green armor was made of shoddily welded together strips of metal, with chains wrapped around his forearms for more protection. This man was a cold blooded killer, and no one in his gang would question him, for all who did died at his feet.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Ahab and his ragtag group of mercenaries,” said man said as he leaned against the bars of the cage, surveying his prey. “Not so proud not that we’ve taken away your precious guns and explosives, now are you?”
“Redford, still smelly and stupid as ever,” Ahab snapped back in retort. “I have to say I feel pretty stupid being captured by your sorry a**.”
“Watch it, old man!” Redford said as he clenched his fists. “You no I don’t have reservations about killing anyone! Hell, killing you would be doing we Wasteland raiders a favor, right folks?!”
A loud cry went up from the raiders, who raised their weapons, some firing into the air. Abe could hear bits and pieces of their threats, and he didn’t like what he heard at all.
“Burn ‘em!”
“Line ‘em up and shoot ‘em!”
“Let’s cut ‘em apart, bit by bit and hang ‘em in the ruins as a snack for the muties!”
When the cheering stopped, Abe noticed that the Redford was watching him. “Geez, Ahab! I thought that you would be desperate for new recruits to your little peanut gallery, but a ghoul? Man, you’ve fallen on hard times.”
“He’s not a recruit,” said Ahab. “He’s just a nobody, someone we found in the ruins.”
“A nobody?” Redford goaded. “He was wearing a bloody suit of Talon armor.”
“So, he killed a merc in no defense,” said Ahab. “You don’t have a problem killing in cold blood, so what’s the big deal?”
“With all their training, you don’t just kill a Talon merc, especially not a ghoul. He must be one tough son of a b***h.” Abe noticed the look in the raider’s eyes; he was scheming. “I’ll make a deal with you, Ahab; I’ll let you and all of your mercenaries go, give you back all your weapons and supplies, if your ghoul can beat me in a fight.”
“Do I get to decide the terms?” the old man inquired.
Redford mulled it over for a second before he responded. “Yeah, do what you want.”
“Okay,” said Ahab, “then the rules are as follows: no body armor, no guns. Each fighter gets three melee weapons, which I’m sure you’ll provide, and whoever is standing in the end wins. Sound good?”
Redford looked from Ahab to Abe, and a devious grin came across his face. “Yeah, sounds more than fair. We’ll fight in an hour, ghoul. I suggest you make yourselves ready. Oh, and I hope you sleep well after the fight tonight, Ahab, because tomorrow it’s off to Paradise Falls. I bet Eulogy will give me a fortune for handing over you and your whole gang!”
Redford walked back into the crowd of raiders, while Abe looked back to Ahab, assuming his face would have been red with rage if his flesh had been capable of regular pigmentation.
“What the Hell did you do that for?!” Abe yelled. “I can’t beat that guy, and besides, do you really think he’ll let us go?!”
“It’s a gamble, I have to admit,” said Ahab as he looked up through the top of the cage. “If he hadn’t taken such an interest in you, I would have just told him about Gregori’s explosives and see if we could get out for handing him over.” Gregori mumbled some curses in Russian, which no one took notice of. “Anyway, I know you can do this. I know you don’t remember anything, but you’re unlike any ghoul I’ve ever seen, Abe. I’ve seen a lot of ghouls in my life, and if any ghoul I’ve ever met can take him, its you.”
The mood in the cage was sour. Many of Ahab’s associates weren’t too wild about trusting their freedom with the ghoul, and even Abe didn’t know if he was willing to risk his own life for the sake of the mercenaries. It was going to be a crazy night.
The sun went down on the square, and Abe was let out of the cage. The raiders had taken several signposts and jammed them in the ground in a circle, with lit rags at the top to illuminate the ring. as he was roughly escorted through the crowd to the middle, and shoved in hard enough that he fell to one knee. He almost turned around to the fight back, but he managed to keep his cool.
On the opposite end of the ring, Redford stood tall, quite an imposing figure without his armor. Abe looked to the raider leader, who promptly took his thumb and drew it across his throat line. Redford was trying to psyche him out, and it was working.
Abe turned around to see Ahab and his mercenaries kneeling on the group just out of the ring. They were being set out to watch the combat. Suddenly, Abe was jarred as a raider threw him a large duffle bag.
“Pick your weapons,” he said gruffly as he walked away.
Abe unzipped the bag, looking upon the plethora of weapons. There were blades and clubs, brass knuckles and chains. Abe took a trench knife, shoving it into his belt, and a hammer. Just as he was beginning to want his baseball bat, Redford threw it to the ground in front of him.
“I like bats too,” he said as he turned to a raider, who was bringing him his three weapons; a long chain, an axe, and a baseball bat with nails running through it. Abe gulped.
Redford took his chain first, and Abe took the hammer. The people outside the ring went silent. Redford took the chain and began to swing it in a circle, slowly picking up speed, while Abe gripped the hammer tight. Suddenly, Redford swung the chain down! Abe rolled to the side, narrowly dodging the steel as it hit the ground, sending up a small plume of dust. He swung it again, but this time Abe wasn’t fast enough; the chain snapped the wooden handle of the hammer.
A loud yell went up from the raiders as Abe threw the rest of the handle aside. Abe took the knife from his belt, grimacing with determination. The chain came down again, this time on Abe’s right shoulder. He winced, but stood his ground.
“Come on, ghoul!” Redford yelled as he lashed Abe with the chain again and again. “Fight me! Fight me!”
Abe grabbed the chain just before Redford could strike again! Redford fought for it with both hands, but Abe gripped the chain tight with one hand, the blade held in the other. Abe gave a yank, and pulled the chain from Redford, tossing it aside. The raider reached for his next weapon, the axe. He drew it and swung wildly, leaving Abe to jump left and right. After a large vertical strike, Abe jumped in and attacked with the knife. Redford jumped back, wincing at the shallow cut along the outside of his neck.
“A little farther in and I would have taken your head off,” said Abe.
Redford was confused. Ghouls didn’t have a lot of strength; not only was Abe matching him in melee combat, he was overtaking him. What was with this ghoul?
In a moment of cowardice, Redford threw his axe, leaving Abe just enough time to sidestep the projectile. That’s when he struck; Redford jumped up off the ground with his bat raised over his head. Ahab got to his feet, trying to rush in to aid Abe, only to be sat down by a pair of raiders.
The bat came down with a crunch, many of the nails going into Abe’s shoulder. The mercenaries looked away. The raiders smiled.
But there was something wrong; neither of the combatants were moving. All of a sudden, Redford let go of his bat and dropped to the ground, the trench knife sticking out of his stomach. Abe grabbed the bat in his shoulder and threw it aside.
“There, your leader is defeated!” Abe yelled as he claimed the knife from Redford’s body and drew his bat. “Now, let my friends go!”
There was no reply from the raiders as they looked from one to the other, murmuring about their next move.
“Abe, look out!” Potter yelled.
Abe turned and saw a raider with a 10 mm pistol, poised to fire. He swung the knife, knocking the gun aside, and then brought his bat down hard onto the raider’s skull.
“Anyone else want to argue?” he asked as he looked at the terrified raiders.
Slowly, the mercenaries were untied and given back their equipment, and soon after the Hawks retreated into the Wasteland.
“Do you think that will end it?” asked Abe as he put his armor back on.
“Hardly,” said Anna as she checked her gun. “Raiders are like hydras; sever the head and it just grows another one.”
“What’s a hydra?” asked Rory.
“Never mind,” replied Anna.
The group stepped out of the ruins into the open Wasteland. After the cramped and claustrophobic wreckage of D.C., the cool breeze was quite comforting.
“So, where will you go now, Abe?” asked Ahab.
“I don’t really know,” the ghoul replied as he looked out at the rolling, desolate hills. “I don’t have a place to call home.”
“Well, there is the convenient thing,” said Rory as he joined the conversation. “Hannibal Hamlin and his escaped slaves just finished moving into the Lincoln Memorial, so the old Temple of the Union is open and abandoned. I’m sure you could take shelter there.”
“Yeah,” said Gregori, “is just north of here.”
“Sounds good,” said Abe as he shouldered his belongings. “Feel free to swing by some time.”
“We’ll be sure to do that,” said Ahab as he and his merc crew headed east.
“And that’s the end of the story,” said Lucas Simms as he stood up from his chair just outside of his cozy Megaton abode.
The children sitting around the small “campfire” of lanterns groaned. “Come on, Mayor Simms, that can’t be it!” one of the children pleaded.
“I’m sorry, son, but that’s the story as far as I know it,” the old sheriff said as he stretched. “Now run on back to your homes, its getting late.”
The children filed off one by one, each thanking Lucas for his story.
“What did you think?” Lucas asked as he picked up his chair and opened his door.
“It’s exactly as I remember it,” said Abe as he stepped out of the shadows into the warm interior. “I’m surprised you kept so much of the violence in there while telling to story to those kids.”
“Yeah, well if they didn’t enjoy it, it’ll scare them a bit,” said Lucas as he poured two steaming mugs of coffee. “The Wasteland is a dangerous place, and if I’m lucky it’ll keep them safe and close.”
“Speaking of the kids, how’s Hardin doing?”
“Just fine, just fine. I gave him a .32 for his birthday this year, and I’m training him to use it. Once he turns fifteen, I’m giving him an assault rifle, and when he gets to eighteen it’s off to the Regulators.”
“I’m sure he’ll take after his old man,” said Abe.
“How’s the escort business been going?” Lucas asked.
“Fine I guess,” said Abe as he put his mug aside. “The ghouls haven’t been coming in as often, so I have less and less to take off to Underworld. I have to take mercenary jobs to keep the caps coming in.”
“It’s a real shame,” said Lucas, “but you’re doing quite a service for the ghouls of the Wasteland. Some say you’re a hero.”
“Yeah, and others say I’m a monster,” Abe grumbled as he shook his head. “I was out the other day, and I got jumped by some Talon mercs. It turns out they were sent by Alistair Tenpenny because he thought my ‘antics’ were drawing the attention of the ghouls still trying to get into his damn hotel, and he didn’t want me taking a job to claim his head.”
“It’s a crying shame,” said Lucas as he took the pair of empty mugs and put them in his sink.
“Yeah, you’re telling me,” said Abe as he got up and headed for the door. “The Wasteland just isn’t a ready for a ghoul hero.”
“Abe, look,” said Lucas, “I know times are tough on ghouls, but you have quite to potential to make a difference. Take a look at people like that Vault-dweller from 101.”
“Yeah, and your point is?”
Lucas sighed. “My point is that it only takes one person with a good or bad motive to change the Wasteland for the better, and you can be one of those people.”
“Thanks for the coffee, sheriff,” said the ghoul as he tipped his hat. “See you in a month or so when I come back to re-supply.”
Lucas Simms watched as Abraham the Ghoul in Red snuck out the gates of Megaton, out into the Capital Wasteland.
"We can expect good things out of you, Abe,” he mumbled to himself. “I can feel it.”
And so he would. Abe did many things in his long life, and many more stories were told of him and his escapades. Hopefully, we’ll have time to sit and recount them some other night.
The End.....for now
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Posted: Thu Jun 18, 2009 2:24 pm
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Posted: Thu Jun 18, 2009 8:34 pm
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Posted: Fri Jun 19, 2009 3:52 pm
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Posted: Fri Jun 26, 2009 8:34 pm
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Posted: Sat Jun 27, 2009 7:12 am
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Posted: Sat Jun 27, 2009 11:14 am
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Well, I got part one done faster than I had thought. Enjoy!
The Chronicles of Abe: The Ghoul Frontier
By Haratio TaFotter
For the month he had been a conscious ghoul in the Capital Wasteland, there was one thing he hated. You might be surprised to learn that this thing wasn’t the raiders or the mutants; it was people. regular old people, the ones who watched him and judged him. Abe would rather run through a minefield straight into a mutant fort with no gun to avoid contact with regular people. He would have liked the sounds of those odds at about that moment.
Abe was wearing his trademark armor, hat, and goggles, as well as a jacket, and was carrying a large bag. He listened to the creak of the wooden dock under his feet, looking at the sorry boat that was going to whisk him away to….what was the word he had used?
“Paradise!” the ghoul in The Ninth Circle shouted as he prepared to shotgun another beer. All the ghoul patrons to Underworld’s bar watched and listened in silence. Even Charon, who was used to breaking up large groups of people, listened to the story with what you might call interest. “I tell you,” he continued, “its land unclaimed, a swamp paradise!”
“Surely it’s not all unclaimed,” said a female ghoul near the front of the group.
“Some of it might need a bit of clearing out,” said the ghoul as he put his empty bottle aside. “Still, it’s got to be safer than here, where no one wants anything to do with ghouls like us!”
Most of the ghouls in the group began to thin out, until only Abe and the traveling ghoul were left.
“So I could make a home there?” Abe asked.
“Easy as pie, chief,” said the traveler with a bit of a grim smile.
Paradise, easy as pie. Getting eyed over by the humans on the ship only strengthened his resolve.
“Well, good afternoon, my fine ghoul!” said a smiling man in a baseball cap and a long coat, a moustache above his broad but uneasy smile. “I suppose you came to get some of my punga fruit!”
“You’d be supposing wrong,” the ghoul grunted, “and my name is Abe.” A murmur went through the five or so other folks on the craft, and the man’s smile faltered.
“Well, then, uh, what did you come down here to the Duchess Gambit for, Abe was it?”
“I came to buy a ticket for your ship,” Abe said as he looked down on the man. “You know, a ticket to Point Lookout, Maryland, like the rest of these good people.”
“Well, there is a bit of a problem with that,” said the main as he beckoned Abe down close to him. “Look, Abe, I don’t take ghouls to Point Lookout unless the whole group of passengers are ghouls, and…” he stopped as Abe pressed something to the man’s chest.
“What’s your name,” Abe asked.
“Tobar,” the man replied weakly.
“Well, Tobar, look down.” The man did as he was prompted. “Now, look in that sack.” Once again, the man followed orders, and opened the little burlap sack he had been handed. He saw caps, both shining and rusted. “Now, in that bag is a thousand caps, feel free to count them yourself if you think I’m cheating you. Now, if you’d be so kind as to give me one of those tickets….”
“Of course, of course!” Tobar blurted out as he frantically dug through his pockets to give the ghoul a ticket. “You can have the only room on the ship, that is, apart from my engine room! Have a nice trip!”
Abe sighed as he stepped onto the ship, stilled be watched by the other passengers. He was going to enjoy his plot of swamp land alright; far, far away from everyone else.
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Posted: Sun Jun 28, 2009 5:06 pm
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“Tell me how the stages go again,” said a young man.
Abe opened his eyes to see that he was chained to a bed in the dark, dank metro where he had gained conscious not but six months ago. Sitting down maybe fifteen feet from him were three people, a young man with brown hair, a muscular older man with graying black hair, and a woman with short black hair and glasses, with all three wearing white lab coats.
Abe had witnessed this dream several times since he had woken up in that tunnel. He had slowly pieced together that these three were Elsa Pallino, Walther Johnson, and Derrick Weatherby, the three names listed in the journal which had chronicled his ‘de-feralizing’.
“I wouldn’t bother, Elsa,” said Weatherby, the older man, as he got up to light his tobacco pipe. “If he doesn’t know the stages by now, he never will.”
Elsa sighed, looking from Weatherby to Johnson. “The stages of becoming a ghoul are very simple, Johnson; first, a human becomes a ghoul through prolonged exposure to small amounts of radiation. This brings on regular symptoms of being a ghoul; hair loss, rotting skin, and so on. After absorbing even more radiation, a ghoul could lose its mind and go feral. Feral ghouls are animalistic, and lose the ability for common speech and basic human behavior. Some feral ghouls have been known to absorb so much radiation that their bodies begin to glow. At that point, they become Glowing Ones. Glowing Ones are stronger than regular ferals, and can emit radiation from their bodies to heal other ghouls. Finally we have the Reavers. Its not really known how a Glowing One Becomes a Reaver, but there are obvious differences. Reavers don’t glow, but radiation can be seen seeping out of their bodies, not to mention they are obviously stronger.”
“So, what about Abe?” asked Johnson as he looked over to where the ghoul was secured. “What is he?”
Elsa looked to Weatherby, who shrugged. “We don’t really know,” he said as he poured himself some cold coffee. “He’s bigger than any other feral we’ve seen during our research. It doesn’t really matter though; we’re not being paid to study any specific species of ghoul.”
“Anyway, we need to get back to work,” said Elsa as she got up.
The three walked towards him, like floating specters. There was no escape for him.
Abe shot up from the cot on the Duchess Gambit. He was breathing hard, and his vision was blurry.
“Damn dreams, damn ‘em all to Hell,” Abe grumbled as he walked out onto the lower deck, fumbling in his pockets for a smoke. “I wish I could make sense of ‘em, just make sense of ‘em for five seconds….”
There was a creak to his left. Abe moved like the wind, grabbing the man by the throat.
“Its okay, its okay!” the man managed to croak out.
Abe dropped the man and walked back to the rail. “Damn, you’re a strong ghoul alright. The stories have to be true.”
“What are you going on about?” asked Abe.
“Well, you’re him aren’t you?” the man asked. “Abe, the Ghoul in Red, right?”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“Oh, it’s an honor, sir!” the man exclaimed. Abe slowly turned to look at this peculiar man. “Oh, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Hal, I’m a mercenary from Megaton.”
“A merc, eh?” asked Abe. “You got a light?” Hal reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a slightly rusted lighter. Abe greedily took it and lit up a cigarette. “So, what brings you on this lovely little cruise to Point Lookout, Hal?”
“Well, I reckon it’s the same thing you’re looking for, Abe.”
“Yeah, and that would be?”
“New work,” Hal replied as he leaned against the railing. “Point Lookout is a wild, wild place, and there’s all sorts of work to be had for a merc like me.”
“I’m not looking for work,” said Abe. “I had plenty of work in the Capital Wasteland. Hell, I’m going to Point Lookout to get away from work.”
“What do you mean?” asked Hal, looking at the ghoul quizzically.
“I mean I’m tired of doing a lot of work for ghouls that want me to be the leader of some kind of revolution and humans that think I’m some kind of monster.” There was only silence between the two until Abe continued. “I hear that Point Lookout is full of ghouls, and for some reason even the ferals won’t attack regular ghouls. I’m going to make myself a nice little home, and leave the Wasteland behind to rot.”
“That’s too bad,” said Hal as he patted Abe on the back. “I used to work a ghoul once, a nice little girl named Cally.”
“What happened to her?”
“I was coming into Megaton, carrying in a bounty. It was dark, and she was tired, lagging behind. She got shot because one of the guards couldn’t see her gun and thought she was a feral sneaking up on me.” He shook his head. “I feel for you, Abe, you and all your people, I really do. If I could kill everyone that ever wronged a ghoul I would in a heartbeat. But I can’t, and even if I could, it wouldn’t bring Cally back.”
“You loved her?” Abe asked. “A woman rotting from the outside who couldn’t give you children?”
“I loved her with all my heart,” said Hal. Abe couldn’t believe it; for the first time in his life, he had met a human who sympathized with ghouls.
Suddenly, Tobar came walking out onto the deck. “We’re going to reach the Point Lookout pier in about a half an hour, boys. Get your things together.”
The two parted ways in silence. Abe couldn’t find anything to say.
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Posted: Tue Jun 30, 2009 10:16 am
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Far off in the swamp, past the pier and the empty shops and broken tools of amusement, there sat the ghouls. Not the swamp ghouls, the Glowing Ones, and the mighty Reavers; these were the sane ones, saner than most, smarter than most.
There was a whistle far off in the distance. One of the ghouls, a lanky ghoul in black metal and leather armor, with winding thorny vine tattoos on either side of his face stood up. “You hear that, ladies and gentlemen?” he asked as he looked about the group of ghouls, male and female, all dressed like his and all with different tattoos. “Tobar just came into the pier.”
“I know you’ve had some amazing visions, Beaumont,” said a female ghoul who walked up beside him. “All your visions, they come true. ‘A ghoul in blood red armor will come by the sea’. It seems too cryptic.”
“Are you saying you doubt me?” asked Beaumont. “Claire, I’ve always been right, you’ve said so yourself.”
“But blood red armor?” she asked. “Sounds like a bad omen to me.”
“But it’s a ghoul,” Beaumont insisted. “It must mean he will join our cause.” Beaumont turned and looked at the band of ghouls behind him. “Head into town, look for a ghoul getting off of Tobar’s ship, and bring him to me, alive of course.”
The others stood and saluted. “For all ghoul-kind!” they said resolutely before running off into the fog of the swamp.
“That’s right,” said Claire, “for all ghoul-kind.”
Abe was one of the last people off the ship. He gathered his things and stepped onto the crooked, breaking pier. Abe didn’t know what it was, but the first time he took a deep breath of the thick swamp air, he felt a little at peace.
“Have a nice visit to Point Lookout,” said Tobar as he sat down on his ship, taking a smoking break.
“Yeah, whatever,” he grumbled as he walked away from the ship. In the short time he had known Tobar, he had hated him. Still, he couldn’t get the words of Hal out of his head. Hal, the mercenary human who had fallen in love with a ghoul; it all just seemed so bizarre.
Abe walked past the buildings on the piers. There was the old Homestead Motel, a light on in the front. He was more or less overjoyed when he found that the main office was empty, and two keys were sitting unattended to. One of the rooms was empty, save for a skeleton sitting on the bed. I wouldn’t make a home, but it would suffice until he could make himself a house out in the swamp.
The ghouls moved quickly up the boardwalk, some brandishing melee weapons, others carrying guns. They knew their goal well, as well as the consequences should they leave their mission uncompleted. Needless to say, the swift and silent ghouls gave Tobar quite a fright when he finally saw them materialize through the fog.
“God, what’s going on?!” he asked as he dropped his cigarette, letting it drop into the murky water with a sizzle. “You looking for someone?”
“The ghoul,” said one at the head of the group as he brandished a lever-action rifle. “There was a ghoul on your ship, where did it go?”
“You must mean that guy in the red armor? He went onto the pier, probably went to stay at the Homestead!”
The ghouls disappeared as silently as they had come. Tobar shakily went through his pockets for another smoke. He didn’t know what the men and women under Beaumont’s command wanted with his unassuming passenger, and the way they were armed, he didn’t want to find out.
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Posted: Thu Jul 02, 2009 3:21 pm
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Abe was used to being attacked when he least expected it. Even more so, he was used to being attacked when he was asleep. A ghoul jumped through the window of his motel room, brandishing a knife. Abe was up in a flash with his bat, and in an instant, had sent the ghoul to the ground. Just because he was used to being attacked didn’t mean he was happy when it happened.
There a loud shotgun report, and his door was blown wide open. Ghouls poured in and encircled Abe, each brandishing a weapon. Abe wasn’t one to go down without a fight, but against twenty armed ghouls, there was nothing he could do.
“You have a suit of red armor, don’t you?” one asked, who was looking down the double barrels of a shotgun.
“Who wants to know?” Abe asked as he lowered his bat.
“Our leader wants to speak with you,” said the ghoul as he lowered his gun. The other ghouls did the same.
Abe grabbed his things and walked with the party, all being careful to keep him at the center of their group so he wouldn’t go anywhere. Abe looked at the group, noticing the various tattoos and matching armor. As they walked farther into the swamp, Abe saw more and more ghouls join the group through the fog. He didn’t know what, but he knew something was going on here, something big.
The ghouls had a small city going on in the swampland. Abe looked at simple metal and wood huts, lit by lanterns. More ghouls came out of them to watch as Abe and the others walked by. They all looked happy, excited; now Abe was really worried.
The group came to a small circular clearing in the buildings, a town square if you will, where a ghoul male and a female were standing, looking at their expected quarry. The group stopped and there was a long silence.
“Let him come to me,” said the ghoul male. The mob of ghouls parted, and Abe walked forward slowly, watching all the unfamiliar faces warily. “Welcome to our city, ghoul in blood red armor,” said the male. “I am Beaumont, leader of these ghouls of the swamp.” Beaumont waved his hand, and the group dispersed, leaving the three alone.
“Quite a little place you have going here, Beaumont,” said Abe as he looked around. “Reminds me of Underworld.”
“Yes,” said Beaumont, “I have heard stories of this ghoul city, this Underworld. I guarantee my city is much safer.”
Beaumont beckoned, and Abe followed him and his mate farther into the city. There they came to another square, with a table and several chairs. “I’ll give you one thing,” said Abe as he sat down and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, “you have yourself one fearsome army.”
“And that’s not even half of it,” said Beaumont as he snapped his fingers, bringing in a servant ghoul, carrying several glasses and a bottle of wine. “I have thousands of ghouls under my command, each willing to fight, and should the need arise, die for me and my cause.”
Abe took the glass of wine he had been handed. He sniffed the red, pungent liquid. “You have nothing to worry about,” said the female, Claire. “The wine isn’t poisoned; we’re all ghouls here.”
Abe put the glass aside and looked at the ghouls. “Look, I appreciate the hospitality, but even ghouls in the Capital Wasteland aren’t this nice, so why don’t you just cut to the chase, alright?”
Claire moved to draw her lever-action rifle, but Beaumont raised his hand, stopping her in her tracks. “You cut to the chase,” he said with a grim smile, showing two shining rows of yellow teeth. “I like that. What is your name, stranger?”
“They call me Abe.”
“Abe, I know it may come as a surprise to you,” said Beaumont, “but while you have never seen me before today, I’ve seen you before.”
“Yeah, a lot of ghouls have seen me,” said Abe, “what’s your point?”
“He hasn’t seen you like the other ghouls have seen you,” Claire spat.
“She is right, ghoul in red armor. I have a unique gift, the gift of foresight. My foresight has never been wrong before, and it wasn’t wrong this time. I saw you, Abe, I saw you in a dream. You were standing on a battlefield, carrying a shotgun and a bat, wearing armor red with blood.”
“You said you had a cause,” said Abe. “What is it, exactly?
“My cause is that which ghouls have been seeking since the end of the Great War, but none have obtained. I seek equal rights for ghouls, not just here and in Underworld, but everywhere. Imagine a world where ghouls and humans walk together as equals.”
Abe took the glass of wine, slugged it down and looked at Beaumont. “Yeah, it’s a lovely thought, isn’t it? Its one I’ve heard at least half a million times back where I come from. Roy Phillips, a real stand-up ghoul, has been fighting injustice against ghouls at Tenpenny Tower, and he’ll probably be there forever and ever. What do you have that he doesn’t?”
“A plan,” said Beaumont, “an amazing plan. But I need your help; I’ve seen what you can do in my dreams, and I know what my dream meant. It meant that with you at my side, my plan will work. All you need to do is say you’ll help me.”
Abe thought about it long and hard. That way this one ghoul had set up an entire city, he really had his affairs in order. “Give me time to sleep on it,” said Abe. “I’ve had a really long night, and your ghouls interrupted my slumber.”
“Of course,” said Beaumont as he waved his hand, bringing in a ghoul to show Abe to a bunk. “It is not easy to make such big decisions out of nowhere.”
Abe was shown off, leaving Claire and Beaumont alone. “Do you think he will join us?” she asked.
“He will,” said Beaumont. “I saw him in my dreams, and I know he will help us. We will succeed!”
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Posted: Fri Jul 03, 2009 2:13 pm
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That night, Abe had his dream again. He was back in the metro tunnel, being examined by the three scientists. This time, the three were pumping the Rad-Away through his veins. He tossed and turned as the burning, radiation-removing liquid flowed through his irradiated veins.
But on the opposite end of the ghoul city, Beaumont had witnessed a dream as well, one that he awoke from with a fright, breathing hard. Claire sat up, looking at her terrified mate. “What’s the matter?” she asked as she tried to look into his eyes. “What did you see?”
“A battle,” Beaumont stammered. “It was foggy, so I couldn’t see the whole fight. Abe was at the center of the combat, killing people left and right; I’ve never seen such a fighter. But when the fog cleared, I saw ghouls, our ghouls, and all dead. Then he turned to me, smiled, and charged at me.”
“What do you think it means?” Claire asked intently.
“Its means that he could lead us to victory, but if he doesn’t decide to join us, he could bring about the end to our plan.” There was silence between the two. They had worked hard, but they weren’t just going to let their plan go to ruin because of some ghoul in red armor.
“What do you think we should do?” Claire asked.
Beaumont thought carefully before responding. “I want you to take four of our best shooters and wait outside of the meeting area, just far enough away that he won’t be able to see you. If he refuses to join us, then I will raise my arm. You will fire the first shot, and the others will follow you.”
Claire nodded, and the two got out of bed, to put on their armor. Today was going bring about the next part of their glorious plan.
Abe put on his armor and grabbed his weapons. He always had a rough time waking up and staying calm after one of his dreams, but Abe had found one amazing coping mechanism; jet. Abe reached into his pocket, pulled out one of the red jet canisters, and put the needle to his neck. The initial burn of the jet hurt, but eventually, it calmed him down.
Abe threw the canister aside, and walked to meet Beaumont. Much like any other day in the swamps of Point Lookout, it was foggy. That made Abe uneasy.
“Abe, good to see you!” said Beaumont as Abe approached the table and sat down next to the ghoul leader. “I assume you had a good night’s rest?”
“Not good enough I’m afraid,” Abe mumbled as he rubbed one of his eyes.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Beaumont, trying to sound friendly. “So, did you think about my proposition?”
Abe was silent for quite some time before responding. “Yeah, I did.”
“And?” Beaumont continued, getting impatient. “What do you think?”
There was even more silence before a response came. “I’m not going to help you.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve been targeted for helping ghouls before,” Abe said as he brought his goggle down, so that he could look Beaumont in the face. “I’ve seen a lot of ghouls look for freedom, and all it got them was a bullet in the face and an open grave. I’m not going to be an accessory to whatever it is that you’re planning.”
Beaumont raised his hand and looked away from Abe. “If you insist.”
Claire saw the signal and rose up a little bit so that she could get a better shot at Abe. She lined up a shot and squeezed the trigger of her Lever-action rifle!
Now, for those of you listening to this story, fret not! Abe’s time hasn’t come yet. Let’s break away from the story for a minute, so that I may adequately explain what happened.
Now, Claire was a ghoul who prided herself on marksmanship. She was the best shot of all the ghouls under Beaumont’s command. Most of the ghouls who had worked with her Claire the Eye-Claimer, since she could drop any target with a single, well-placed shot through the eye. Not only that, but Claire took care of her gun religiously, making sure it always fired, and that all her rounds flew straight to the target.
When Claire had lined up Abe’s head in her sights, she squeezed the trigger, and for the first time in her life, the gun didn’t fire. Beaumont was quite surprised when there was no sharp gunshot, just a loud click of the gun misfiring.
“Go, shoot!” Claire shouted as she fumbled with her gun. The four ghouls behind her rose up and fired. Luckily, Abe had heard the click of Claire’s gun, and tipped the table over to take cover.
“You double-crossing sonuvah b***h!” Abe roared as he reached for his bat. The rounds missed, but one of them went through the wooden table, very close to Abe’s face. He got up and took off into the swamp; Beaumont could wait until later.
The four ghouls ran after Abe, while Beaumont saw to Claire. When Beaumont got to her, she was sitting in the dirt, looking over every in of her gun.
“What the Hell happened?!” Beaumont yelled.
“I don’t know,” Claire said, practically sobbing. “I pulled the trigger, and the gun didn’t fire!”
Beaumont tried with all his might not to strike Claire, and turned back towards the city, seeing his four ghouls running back. “He’s gone, sir,” said the ghoul at the head of the group.
“I’ll get Scab,” said Beaumont as he left the four with Claire. “If anyone can find Abe now, it’ll be him.”
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Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2009 10:38 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2009 1:32 pm
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