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 Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2009 8:27 pm
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Posted: Thu Jul 09, 2009 7:29 am
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Once again, thanks for all the support guys!
The ghoul in question, Scab, was already preparing to go on his hunt. Scab was tall for a ghoul, like Abe, but he was very skinny. He was the leader of Beaumont’s scouts, being the fastest of the ghouls. Wearing light armor and a stormchaser hat, he was preparing his four man hunting team to go off into the swamp.
“You understand, don’t you?” Beaumont asked for what had probably been the tenth time. “I need him back alive, okay! Alive!”
“Of course, whatever you say boos,” Scab said nonchalantly. “Have I ever not brought in someone alive who you wanted alive?”
“Yes,” Beaumont replied starkly, “several times!”
“I got back the guys who counted!” he said, hoping to defend his position. “What about that Chinese ghoul?”
“He would be the one exception.”
Scab drew his .32 revolver. “You got nothing to worry about, boss. Abe is coming back alive, and then we’re stowing him at Turtledove.” The three ghouls took off through the fog, leaving Beaumont with his thoughts. They had to stop Abe before he got to the pier, should they risk the smooth-skins knowing about their plans.
Meanwhile, deep in the swamp, Hal the mercenary was inspecting a mysterious object he had found. It was like nothing he had ever seen, but there was one thing he could tell: it was a bomb, a very deadly bomb. A series of what looked like miniature nuclear bombs, arranged around some kind of plastic explosives and an old alarm clock.
Hal prided himself on his knowledge of homemade explosives, but this bomb was special, since it was the only one he had seen capable of causing a nuclear explosion. Hal slowly figured out the bomb’s stages: first the alarm clock would go off, which would set off a triggering device in the explosives, which would in turn detonate the miniature nukes. By why was it in the middle of the swamp?
“Come on, come on,” the merc mumbled to himself as he paced around the bomb. “All bombs like this have a cord, a wire, something going from the timer to the explosive. Ah ha!” Hal found what he had been looking for, a dark red wire. He reached into his traveling pack, pulling out a pair of wire cutters.
Hal’s palms began to sweat. If he didn’t cut it completely, the bomb might go off prematurely. He put the blades around the cord, sharply inhaled, and looked away from the bomb. He squeezed the wire cutters. There was no explosion, so it was obviously safe, but Hal kept himself braced, thinking there was still a chance.
Suddenly, Abe came tumbling out of the swamp! The ghoul tripped over the mercenary, who was in turn knocked over.
“Hal!” Abe sputtered as he moved to get back up. “What are you doing out here?!”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Hal grumbled as he got up to brush the mud of his coat. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“I can’t explain right now,” said Abe, who was looking back, trying to peer through the fog. “Come on, get your things: we have to get back to the pier right away.”
Abe had just gotten the words out of his mouth when there was a flash from the fog and a report. A bullet hit Abe’s armor high in the chest section, knocking him to the ground. The ghouls came hurtling into the area, Scab in the lead.
“You hit the ghoul, Scab,” one of the ghouls said with a grin as he held down Hal. “Beaumont isn’t going to be happy about that.”
“Don’t worry, you idiot,” Scab as he walked over to inspect Abe, who was also being held down. “The boss said to bring him in alive, and he’s alive: end of story.”
The third of his men was looking at the ground. “Scab, you better come and take a look at this.”
Scab sighed and walked over to see the bomb that Hal had disarmed. “Its one of the necro-bombs, and it’s been deactivated!” he cried in dismay. The other ghouls got concerned looks on their faces. Scab turned to Abe. “You did this, didn’t you?! It wasn’t good enough for you to not join our ranks, but you also had to ruin this sector’s necro-bomb?!” Scab drew his pistol and struck Abe on the head, knocking him unconscious.
“Leave him alone!” Hal shouted as he tried to squirm free. “I disarmed the bomb, not him!”
Scab slowly turned back to the human mercenary. “You disarmed it, eh?” the scout mused. “Well, then we can’t have you running around the swamp, now can we?” Scab addressed his men loudly. “Alright, you boys take our little prisoners off to Turtledove while I go back and report to Beaumont. I’ll catch back up with you at the camp in about an hour.”
The ghouls did as they were told, leaving Scab alone with the broken bomb. “Stupid human,” he mumbled. “This complicates the plan a bit.”
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Posted: Fri Jul 10, 2009 4:21 pm
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When Abe finally began to come back to consciousness, he was seeing stars. His ears were still ringing from Scab’s blow.
“It’s good to see you’re coming around,” someone in the room said. Abe was sure that whoever had just spoken was speaking at a normal tone, but to him, they might as well have been talking into a loud speaker.
As he slowly became more comfortable with the light in the room, he opened his eyes and sat up, looking around the bleak little cabin. “Where the Hell am I?” he moaned as he looked around the room.
“Right now, you’re in one of the prison cabins at the Turtledove Detention Camp, comrade.”
Abe looked over to the ghoul who had been talking to him. If he had had a clearer head, he wouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, but due to his injury, he instantly assumed that the ghoul was one of Beaumont’s men. He reached back under the back plate of his armor and drew his hidden weapon, the trench knife from his fight with Redford of the Hawks.
Abe ran forward, thrusting at the ghoul with his knife. The ghoul sidestepped the thrust, letting Abe bury the knife deep in the wooden wall of the cabin. The ghoul then followed up with a haymaker than sent Abe to the floor, his brown fedora fluttering through the air.
“Easy, comrade,” said the ghoul, not sounding so calm any more. “I am not with the others. I am a prisoner here, just as you are.” Abe slowly got back up and grabbed his hat, studying his fellow prisoner. He wore a black jumpsuit with a red star on the side of it, and a red head wrap. Abe was quick to recognize the outfit.
“You’re with the Reds, right?” he asked. “I guess that would explain why you keep calling me comrade. What’re you doing split apart from the other commies?”
“Those other ‘commies’ sent me here to stake out the area,” the ghoul said irately. “I am Shang-Hui of the scouting a reconnaissance division of the Reds. I was told to stake out to area, assess any supplies we could gain by putting troops out here. When I arrived, I was greeted by several ghouls those under the command of the one named Beaumont.”
“They wanted your help too, eh?”
Shang-Hui nodded. “I was more than eager to help them.”
A small grin came across Abe’s face. “I thought the motto of the Reds was ‘one for all and all for one’?”
“You’d be surprised,” said Shang-Hui, looking out a dusty window to the dark bog. “The Reds are one of the only raider gangs in the Capital Wasteland to take ghouls into their ranks, but at a price; we always get put into scouting and reconnaissance, and we always get sent into dangerous, high radiation areas. When Beaumont told me about how he was going to bring equality for ghouls to the world, I bought it, as you Americans might say, hook, line, and sinker. I was so foolish to think he would accomplish it peacefully.”
“Okay, back up, back up,” Abe insisted, raising his hand. “What is Beaumont’s plan, exactly?”
Shang-Hui sat on a rusty bunk and looked at his hands as he rubbed them together. “His orders were very simple; he wanted me to use my training to make his bombs, very powerful bombs. I thought I would just be using large amounts of things like plastic explosives and fragmentation mines and grenades, but that’s when he showed them to me. They were small nuclear explosives, I believe he called them ‘mini nukes’, and he wanted me to use them, four to a bomb, and place them all over Point Lookout.”
“What would he have to gain from that?” Abe asked. “Even if the bombs did go off, things in this place are too spread out for the bombs to take care of everyone.”
“That’s not the plan,” Shang-Hui continued. “As I’m sure you have already noticed, while the radiation from the bombs may have faded, but it stays in the water. Here in Point Lookout, there is a lot of moisture in the air, and therefore, radiation. When the bombs went off, they would irradiate the air, turning the humans of Point Lookout into full-blown Reavers in a couple of weeks. The ghouls, however, would be turned to Reavers, but keep their sanity. They’ve adjusted to radiation exposure, allowing them to gain all the strengths of being a Reaver, the strength, the speed, and the amazing sensory powers, with none of the weaknesses.
“Once they took care of all the humans, it would only be a matter of time before the ferryman came back in a radiation suit to loot the stores and homes, and when he did, Beaumont and the others would kill him and take his boat, using it to go back to the Capital Wasteland and conquer it for all ghouls. I believe that the one called Scab took your human friend away to interrogate him in the basement of the main building because he disabled the bomb that was supposed to wipe out the humans.”
The last part of what Shang-Hui said snapped Abe to attention. “Hal! They have Hal, damn it!”
“They’re probably torturing him as we speak,” Shang-Hui said as he looked up. “He did postpone their plan.”
“Well, guess what, Shanghai?” Abe said as he tossed the knife between his hands. “We’re going to rescue, the two of us: you’re helping whether you like it or not!”
Abe got up and ran to the cabin’s door.
“Shanghai?” Shang-Hui mumbled to himself. “Where the Hell did he get that?”
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Posted: Wed Jul 15, 2009 7:40 pm
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Shang-Hui had been right about Hal. In the basement of the camp’s main building where the bodies of supposed Chinese spies had been stored before the war, Scab was watching some of the ghouls at work. The human had been tied down while several ghouls hovered over him.
“Bring me the saw,” one of them said. One of the others ran into the back room and came rushing back, brandishing an old and bloodied hacksaw. Two other ghouls fetched a wooden bit made from an old chair leg, standing on either side of him and holding the piece of wood in.
“Get me a towel,” the ghoul in charge said. “I don’t want the blood all over the floor like the last one.”
Scab wouldn’t admit it, but he kind of enjoyed watching the doctors torture the humans. He only hoped that when the bombs went off and they went to the Capital Wasteland that enough would be left for a few more torture sessions.
The doctor moved the saw beginning to cut into Hal’s left leg. The first muffled scream that came from behind the bit was always Scab’s favorite. Awhile after, when the procedure was really underway, he’d lose interest. It was at that time that he thought back to Beaumont, when he had reported him.
“Listen to me, Scab, and listen well,” his great leader had said. “I want you to detain Abe at the Turtledove facility. Keep him well guarded. But should he get out, and this is the crucial part, you must stop at nothing to stop him! If he were to get out, he could spell the end of our plan.”
All of a sudden, Scab and the other ghouls heard gunshots. “Keep working,” said Scab as he went into the back room for his secret weapon. “This won’t take long.”
Abe was in his element. One of the guards outside of his cabin had been armed with a double-barrel shotgun, which Abe rather violently relieved him of. A ghoul across the yard got up out of his chair, but Abe quickly lined up his target and squeezed the trigger, sending two shells worth of buckshot into the ghoul’s head. Shang-Hui had taken the hunting rifle of the other guard, and was accurately picking off the other ghouls left and right.
“You’re pretty handy with that thing, Shanghai!” Abe shouted as he loaded another two shells into his weapon.
“You aren’t so bad yourself!” Shang-Hui responded as he furiously worked the gun’s bolt. “And stop calling me Shanghai!” The two had finished the few guard ghouls in short order, and stopped to catch their breath. “Why do you keep calling me that anyway?”
“I just think it’s a little easier to say than Shang-Hui,” Abe wheezed.
The two heard someone clapping, which put them back on their guard. “Bravo, boys, bravo,” Scab said as he stepped out of the basement. He was holding a strange weapon that looked like sword. “I’m afraid I can’t spare you this time, Abe. You’re dead meat.” As he dropped the sword to his side, the blade ignited in flames.”
“Watch out, Abe,” Shang-Hui said as he began to back up. “That’s the weapon he used to bring me in.”
“Just stand back,” said Abe as he steeled himself. “If I can handle Super Mutants, I can handle one ghoul, sword or not!”
Abe blinked, and when he opened his eyes, Scab was already within striking distance. He drew back his sword and thrust forward, leaving Abe just and instant to dodge! The blade grazed Abe’s face, the burning steel making his skin sizzle around the shallow wound. Abe swung his knife, but Scab had already leapt back before the knife was even halfway to its mark.
The two began to circle each other. “I assume the Red already told you about our plan,” Scab said as he moved the blade back and forth. “I don’t like to brag, but I was the inspiration for Beaumont’s scheme. He knew I was different from the others before even I noticed. I am technically feral: I have the speed and the senses of a feral, with all the calm-headedness of sanity.”
“Kinda wished you were feral right now,” Abe replied, returning a smirk. “Ferals don’t talk so much.”
Scab charged again. Abe raised the shotgun and fired, but Scab just jumped over the spread. He got in close and again and started swinging and thrusting, left and right. Abe managed to dodge most of them, but Scab always got him. A little knick here, and minor wound there, but they all burned like hellfire. What made things worse was that Shang-Hui couldn’t do anything; they were always so close that he couldn’t get a clear shot for fear of hitting Abe.
Scab nimbly leapt back once more, leaving Abe be. The ghoul fell to one knee: his body was covered in small, burning cuts, all over his arms and his legs and his chest. There was no mistaking that Scab was a taste of things to come, for he definitely had all the speed of one. Shang-Hui stepped forward, raising his gun, when Abe raised his hand. “Stop wasting time just standing there,” said Abe, gritting his teeth. “Do into the basement, get Hal, he’ll be the only one who isn’t a ghoul.”
Shang-Hui nodded and slowly walked towards the building, watching Scab every step of the way until he got to the building.
“Why didn’t you stop him?” Abe asked as he finally got back up.
“Because your Red friend isn’t going to stop the human from dying,” he replied whimsically. “When I came out here, my associates were torturing your friend for disarming the bomb. They were cutting off his legs, just below the knees of course. I mean with all the time we’ve spent out here, they probably started driving nails into each and every segment of his fingers, and after that…”
“Enough!” Abe shouted as he threw the shotgun aside. “Let’s finish this!”
Scab raised his sword. “Yes, lets!”
Scab charged Abe one final time, his adversary raising his knife only slightly. Abe was giving up. Or at least, that’s the way he made it look.
Scab thrust the sword forward, and Abe dropped his knife. He took the boiling steel blade in both his hands, holding the point just an inch or so away from his stomach. Scab was aghast: try as he might, he couldn’t get the blade to go any farther.
Abe yanked the blade out of Scab’s hand, spun in around, and plunged it deep into Scab’s gut with such force that the blade came out through Scab’s back, sputtering and sizzling as it did. Scab screamed, and Abe roared as he lifted his skewered opponent off the ground and charged until he buried the blade in the wood of one of the cabins.
“Kill me!” Scab cried as he thrashed about, attempting to removed the blade. “Kill me, please kill me!”
“No!” Abe shouted, silencing the pitiful specimen immediately. “No, I will not kill you, and do you know why?! It’s because I want you to suffer! I want you to suffer as you have made Hal suffer!”
“It doesn’t matter!” Scab squealed. “If I die and suffer I will be seen as a martyr when Beaumont’s plan comes to fruition! Long live the ghouls! Long live Beaumont, king of the ghouls!”
Shang-Hui poked his head out of the basement. “Abe, you might want to come and have a look at this!” he yelled. Abe left Scab to his ramblings, running over to take the knife up off the ground.
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Posted: Thu Jul 16, 2009 6:27 am
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Posted: Thu Jul 16, 2009 9:59 am
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Posted: Thu Jul 16, 2009 11:27 am
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When Abe saw the portrait of terror in the basement, he was speechless. Shang-Hui was standing amongst three dead ghouls, blood covering the floor. On the operating table, he saw Hal, both of his legs missing just below the knees as Scab had said.
“Is he…?” Abe began, unable to finish his question.
“I got down here just in the nick of time,” said Shang-Hui as he threw his now broken and bloody rifle aside. “He has lost a lot of blood. If it had taken me any longer to deal with these three, he might have died. Luckily, that first aid box over there was chock full of stimpacks: with those, I was able to slow the blood flow to his legs and get his wounds bandaged.”
“So he’s just unconscious,” Abe mumbled to himself. “Thank God.”
“We have to get him out of here quickly though,” Shang-Hui continued. “The doctors said something about the bombs. I think they might be going off soon.” As he was speaking he walked over to a counter, picking up the bomb which Hal had disarmed.
Abe slung Hal’s body over his shoulder, taking his things off the counter with his free hand. “Let’s go!”
The two ghouls came out of the basement, and has they did, they saw a massive explosion in the west. “There they go!” Scab screamed into the sky. “It has begun!”
The ghouls took off south towards the pier. They only had seconds to get to safety, lest they risk turning feral as well!
Meanwhile, off in Beaumont’s ghoul city, the ghouls were almost in wild chaos. As the radiation went through their bodies, they howled into the sky!
“Long live the ghouls!”
“Long live King Beaumont!”
“Death to the humans!”
Even Beaumont and Claire, both usually calm, were joining in on the celebration. It would only be a matter of days before they advanced on the Point Lookout pier, and from there, the Capital Wasteland.
Abe and Shang-Hui had outrun the bomb. The two were at the doorway of and old bank on the brink of the pier as they saw the last of the bombs go off in the area they themselves had just been in.
“Come inside,” said Shang-Hui as he entered the bank. “I used this building as my forward base when I came in. Thank goodness I kept all my weapons in here when they took me.”
Abe sat Hal down on an old desk. His legs were bleeding again. “You got any more stimpacks, Shanghai?”
The Chinese ghoul brought over a pair of stimpacks, carefully inserting the needles into Hal’s legs. The bleeding slowed, and then eventually stopped. “We can’t keep this up forever, comrade,” said Shang-Hui as he threw the used stimpacks aside.
“We have to try,” Abe pleaded. “Come on, you’ve got a lot of stimpacks, right? All we have to do is keep him alive until the ferry comes back, and then we can take him back to the Capital Wasteland and a real doctor.”
“Its no use, Abe,” Hal rasped as he slowly came back to consciousness. “These stimpacks can slow blood flow to wounds, and they can even repair broken bones, but they aren’t going close off my wounds and give me my legs back.”
“Come on, Hal, don’t talk like that,” Abe continued. “There’s still hope.”
“Abe, I’m going to die, and that’s a fact,” Hal said as he put his hand on Abe’s shoulder. “But there is one thing I can do.” Hal looked over to Shang-Hui. “That’s the bomb I disarmed, isn’t it?”
Shang-Hui nodded.
“Then I have everything I need.”
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Posted: Tue Jul 21, 2009 12:18 pm
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Abe and Shang-Hui went looking about the now abandoned houses and buildings of Point Lookout. When the few sane folk had been told of the ghouls and their plan, they all went to Tobar for a ride to safety. The cowardly ferryman almost left everyone for fear of his own life.
The two ghouls were going off of a checklist that Hal had written, scrounging through the various boxes and crates they found. They took everything they could carry: guns ammunition, explosives and food and water.
“I hope they don’t mind us using this stuff,” said Shang-Hui as he carefully put several fragmentation mines into a box and hauled it off to the bank.
“I’m just worried that Beaumont and his ghouls are going to come before they’re ready,” Abe replied as he took a pair of ammo boxes under his arms.
“We don’t have anything to worry about for now,” Shang-Hui assured him. “It’ll be a day or two more before they turn into full Reavers, and they won’t advance until then. Speaking of which, do you think it was a good idea to stay here? Beaumont and his mate Claire are talented fighters, and they have at least a thousand armed ghouls.”
“We have to try,” Abe insisted resolutely. “If we don’t, they find a way back to the Capital Wasteland, one way or another.”
“Would that really be such a bad thing?” Abe dropped the ammo boxes and slowly turned to face Shang-Hui. “I’ve been thinking about it, and would it really be so bad for the ghouls to be on top for once? I came here to get away from the humans, and so did you as well.”
“I going to stop them,” Abe said as he rushed over, grabbing the Chinese ghoul by his collar. “I’m going to stop them for Hal, and I’m doing it because he cares about ghouls. He even loved a ghoul once, and the way I see it, if at least one person out there gives a damn about us, then we have to hold out hope that there may be more, and that one day, maybe, just maybe, the world will grow to accept us.” Abe let go and walked back to the boxes he had dropped. “We just have to hold out hope.”
Hall was sitting in the bank, a .45 Magnum close at hand should he need to defend himself. He was in a wheelchair the others had found on the boardwalk, his legs bandaged, as he examined the bomb. Holding the cord he had cut, Hal took a roll of electrical tape and began to wrap the broken segments together.
“Are you still messing with that bomb Hal?” Abe asked as he put the ammo down.
“More or less,” the mercenary replied as he wheeled himself over to inspect the latest haul. “It looks like you just about have everything: all we need is a suit of power armor.”
“What do you need all this stuff for anyway?” Shang-Hui asked as he inspected Hal’s bandages.
“Its for defending the pier,” Hal replied as he shifted in his wheelchair, wincing a bit as Shang-Hui removed the bloody cloth that made up his makeshift field dressing. “We can’t let Beaumont and the others take the pier, or they could very well take over the Capital Wasteland.”
“Let us worry about the fight,” said Abe as he brought over a few more stimpacks. “You’re in no condition to be fighting anyway.”
A weak smile came across Hal’s face. “Don’t worry, I didn’t plan on fighting. Now, why don’t you go see if you can find a suit of power armor, eh?”
Abe nodded, and walked off, leaving Shang-Hui and the dying mercenary alone. “You’re not fooling me,” said Shang-Hui as he began to rip up a shirt they had found and started wrapping the strips around Hal’s wounds. “Tell me what you’re really up to, Hal.”
“I figured if anyone would see past me, it’d be you,” Hal said as he closed his eyes, squeamish at the sight of his own wound. “I’m dying Shanghai, that much is certain. Even if I were to live through the fight tomorrow, which I’m almost sure none of us will do, I’d die before we made it back to the Capital Wasteland, and that’s if I’m lucky.”
“So what’s your plan?”
Hal opened one eye and looked over at the bomb. “After I cut the wire on that bomb, the timer went off, but the electric charge never set the whole thing off. I can’t remove the clock without ruining the whole bomb, and I need it intact.”
“So you’re setting off the bomb?”
“In effect, yes,” the mercenary replied as he reached over to a bag on the table, opening it to remove a large gauntlet. “This is a special power fist, one that emits an electric charge when a punch is thrown. Now that the cord had been reconnected, all I have to do is punch the clock and…” There was silence between the two for several minutes. “I know it sounds crazy, but believe me Shanghai, even with the stimpacks numbing my wounds right now, this hurts worse than anything I’ve ever endured before. I want to die, and if I can take some of those ghouls when I do, then so be it.”
“You are a brave man, Hal,” Shang-Hui said as he finished changing the bandages. “Had I met you earlier, I would have felt honored to fight by your side.”
“The feeling is mutual,” said Hal. “All we have to do is keep this from Abe.”
Beaumont was sitting in a large wooden chair, admiring his changing body. He was now going into his Reaver state: radiation was flowing around his body in green clouds. He felt faster, stronger, and more aware of his surroundings. Compared to his life as a regular ghoul, he felt like a god!
“Come in,” he said before the ghouls outside even knocked. He had heard them coming. Three ghouls entered, two in the Glowing stage, and one a Reaver.
“Sir, we bring troubling news from Trutledove,” the Reaver female said as the three bowed.
Beaumont froze in his seat. “What happened?”
“It appears as though the ghoul in red and the Chinese ghoul who made the necro-bombs escaped,” she replied. “Everyone at the camp was dead when the new group of guards arrived there this morning. Even Scab was killed.” The ghouls proceeded to tell of how the conditions of the bodies, and how Scab had been pinned to one of the cabins by his own shishkebab.
Beaumont couldn’t believe what he was hearing. First Claire, whose gun never missed or misfired, jammed when trying to kill Abe, and Scab, who had never been beaten in close combat with his weapon of choice, had been bested by the ghoul as well.
“Tell the others to prepare their weapons,” Beaumont said in an even tone, trying to keep his temper. “We will attack the pier tomorrow.” The three ghouls nodded and left the hut, leaving Beaumont to his musings. “Can he be killed?”
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Posted: Thu Jul 30, 2009 9:39 am
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It was very early in the morning when the ghouls reached the tree line of the swamp, leading to the open area just before the pier. Beaumont’s ghouls were armed to the teeth, their line bristling with double-barrel shotguns, lever rifles, hunting rifles, axes, shovels, and all manner of pistols and knives. Beaumont was at the head of the group, holding a pair of axes, a mighty double-barrel shotgun slung over his back.
Claire approached him, carrying her rifle and a combat knife. “It doesn’t look like they’re up yet,” she said as she looked ahead. “There is no sign of any of them.”
“What about the battlefield?”
“Landmines no doubt,” said Claire. “We didn’t want to get too close and awaken them, but we can see many tiny red lights on the ground, a sure sign of armed landmines.”
“We’ll just have to run between them or jump over them,” Beaumont said as he turned to face his army. “On my mark, we charge,” he said in a normal tone, knowing all the ghouls could here him. “Charge!”
Hal heard the cry from within the suit of power armor. He was glad that he hadn’t been spotted by the ghoul scouts: luckily, the armor had helped to mask his scent.
Speaking of the armor, he could hardly move in it. Hal had no training on the use of power armor, so he could barely move a muscle. At least Shang-Hui had shown him courtesy by wheeling him out into the no-man’s-land.
He saw the first of them, their eyes glowing through the fog, and they saw him. Many opened fire, but their weak 10 mm and .32 caliber bullets bounced off his thick steel plating. Using all his might, he raised the power fist and brought it down on the bomb.
Shang-Hui, who had been waiting on top of one of the pier stores, saw the white flash as the bomb went off. He turned away as the light enveloped many of the charging ghouls. Many more tiny explosions followed as some of the fragmentation mines were thrown to the left and right into even more of the ghouls. He could only imagine what they could be thinking.
Abe came rushing out of the bank. “You b*****d!” he shouted, bat in one hand and trench knife in the other. “You drugged me, Shanghai! You b*****d!
Many of the ghouls were slowly recovering from the shock and moving again. Shang-Hui raised his sniper rifle, firing at all clear targets. He had never fought Reavers before, and was astounded by the amount of powerful .308 rounds he had to put into them to put them down. Those that made it by Shang-Hui’s sharp shooting came face to face with Abe, who had become a whirling psychopath of the battlefield. Swinging and slicing, thrusting, and stabbing, he had lost all feeling.
Shang-Hui threw his sniper rifle aside, reaching for the Xuanlong assault rifle on his back. Bullets were flying fast and furious, and the air began to stink of radiation, blood, and spent bullets. The Chinese ghoul was amazed by the amount of carnage the explosives had caused, as he saw the corpses of at least five hundred Reavers. And yet so many still came, the forces bottlenecked in front of the pier.
Suddenly, Abe was knocked back, rolling down the length of the pier, planks snapping beneath him. The ghouls parted, letting Beaumont step out. “Abe is my opponent,” he said flatly as he walked forward, keeping his eyes on his prey. “Claire, take care of the Chino.”
Claire hopped up onto the top of the building where Shang-Hui was standing. The female ghoul drew a pair of combat knifes, both menacingly sharp.
“I had a bad feeling about you from the moment we met,” Shang-Hui said coolly as he put down his assault rifle and drew a blade of his own, a Chinese officer’s sword.
“It’s too bad you helped us so perfectly,” said Claire, smiling as she spun her knives. “Your bombs gave off the desired effects in the right amount of time. You know Shang-Hui, it’s not too late: just spend a few days in the swamp, and you’ll be one of us. You can take Scab’s place, be a real leader, not just the head of some ghouls who are slaves to weak humans.”
“I don’t think so,” said Shang-Hui as he flourished his sword. “I can’t justify all that killing.”
Claire can at Shang-Hui, her knives drawn to either side of her body! Shang-Hui stood his ground, not making a sound. Claire got close, and Shang-Hui chose his moment perfectly: in a single stroke, he severed Claire’s right arm! The Reaver continued to barrel onward, driving the other knife deep into Shang-Hui’s right side. The Chinese ghoul drew a Chinese pistol emptying the whole clip into Claire’s head. She stumbled back, and as she turned around, Shang-Hui swung his sword once more, removing Claire’s head.
The Chinese ghoul removed the knife from his side and used a stimpack. “It’s all up to you now, Abe.”
Abe was slowly getting to his feet when Beaumont hit him on the back with the blunt end of one of his axes. “It’s a shame, really,” Beaumont said wistfully as he walked around Abe’s huddled body. “You could have been my greatest general, Abe: better than Claire, certainly better than Scab. It just baffles me that you don’t see my vision clearly.”
“You turn yourself into a walking freak show, irradiated a large area, and then set out to kill anyone that doesn’t look like you,” Abe said defiantly. “What am I missing, Beaumont?”
“The greatest point of all, Abe. I want to put the humans through what we have bee through. That pig Moriarty in Megaton, the greedy Mister Tenpenny, and all the others. I will show them the error of their ways!”
Abe stood up, bat in one hand, trench knife in the other. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
Beaumont swung one of his axes, which Abe narrowly avoided. Another axe came in, the blade slicing through part of Abe’s chest plate. Abe swung his bat and axe, but neither came close.
“It’s impossible,” said Beaumont as he twirled his axes. “You may have lucked out when Claire tried to shoot you, and you may have beaten Scab, but there is no way that you can hope to defeat me!” Beaumont lunged, both his weapons poised to strike! Abe stepped into the attack, bringing his bat down hard on Beaumont’s head.
Beaumont dropped his axes and pushed Abe back, sending him into the front of what had once been a concession stand. “When will you face the facts, Abe? You can’t beat me.” Abe was trying to sit up, but Beaumont wrapped his hands around Abe’s throat. “Now, just relax while I put you out of your misery.”
Abe’s vision was going blurry. He was thrashing, trying to get out of Beaumont’s grip, but it was no use. He felt his body going limp and he closed his eyes. So this is it, he thought to himself, less than a year of consciousness and I still have no idea who I am. Here I am now, going to die at the hands of my own kind. Son of a…
Beaumont let go of Abe, stumbling back. Shang-Hui had come to his rescue, firing his assault rifle. “Get up, Abe!” he shouted. “Get up and fight, damn it!”
Abe rose to his feet, grabbing the pair of axes which has been used against.
“b*****d!” Beaumont roared. “I’ll kill you!”
Abe swung down the first axe, and then the next, severing both of Beaumont’s arms! He then took the shotgun off his enemy’s back! As Beaumont roared in pain, Abe placed the two barrels in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
Abe dropped the shotgun and fell to the ground. “And that’s it,” Abe said as he breath strained. “The king of the ghouls is dead, long live the king.” Shang-Hui jumped off the building and helped Abe up. “Did you kill his mate?” Abe asked as they walked back to the shops.
“Of course,” said Shang-Hui, trying to ignore the searing pain of his stab wound.
Once they got to the boardwalk leading to the pier, they saw them, the Reavers. They had scarcely moved, wall waiting, a glowing multitude.
“You,” one of them stuttered as he stepped forward out of the crowd. “You were the once who killed Beaumont, weren’t you? The Ghoul in Red?”
“Yes, Beaumont died by my hand.”
“Long live King Beaumont! All hail Abe, the Red King!”
“Shut up!” Abe yelled, silencing the Reavers. “I’m your new king then, right?! Then here’s your first order: go now, back into the swamp, and stay there until I return! Do not harm a human until that day!”
“Yes, your majesty!” they cried as the all ran back. “All hail the Red King!”
“It’s almost cruel,” said Shang-Hui was the last of the ghouls vanished into the fog. “They were so brainwashed by the ideals of Beaumont that they can’t function without a leader.” Far off shore, they heard the loud horn of Tobar’s ferry. Abe grabbed his things, and walked slowly to the edge of the dock, as though he were in a trance.
“What now?” Shang-Hui asked as he also shouldered his few belongings.
“I’m going back to the Capital Wasteland,” Abe said as he looked at the water, the waves rolling in and out. “I came to this place, being told it was a ghoul frontier, a place we could finally call our own. But now I see that it was all a façade.”
The ferry rolled in, and the two got on board for their trip. This may be the end of our tale for now, but the Chronicles of Abe are yet to be concluded. It would be another century until the Ghoul in Red acted again, and then it really would be for the fate of the Capital Wasteland. But until that time, this is…
The End
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Posted: Thu Jul 30, 2009 7:06 pm
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The Chronicles of Abe: The Years In Between (EXPANSION SPOILERS)
By Haratio TaFotter
Part 1: 101 and the Fall of Power Armor
Now, as stated in the last of our tales of the Ghoul in Red, many years passed before Abe made an impact on the Capital Wasteland, the last adventure being the tale which will conclude the ghoul hero’s saga. But first, let’s discuss the changes that afflicted the Wasteland at the hands of another person whom you may be familiar with: the Vault-dweller of 101.
Now, I don’t think I need to tell all the ordeals of 101, so let’s gets right to the meat of the story, the end. After defeating the Enclave at the Jefferson Memorial and restarting the water purifier, most thought it would be the end of the bad times in the Capital Wasteland. But once the Enclave showed their ugly heads again, 101 and the Brotherhood of Steel knew the fight was over just yet. After going through many more ordeals, the hero/heroine (the stories were never that clear on 101’s gender) arrived at the mobile base of the Enclave.
In the base was a computer, which was liked to a satellite, ready to rain down death on all who opposed the Enclave. However, the Vault-dweller was faced with a choice. The Enclave had been an evil organization, that much was certain, but the Brotherhood of Steel controlled the pure water in the Capital Wasteland and with the powerful Tesla cannons, they could be capable of just such evil. So, 101, with his/her technical prowess, set missiles to fire at both the Enclave’s mobile base and the Brotherhood of Steel’s Citadel.
The two organizations attempted to go about business as usual: the remaining Enclave held their stations in the Wasteland, while the remaining Brotherhood continued delivering water, as well as carrying out their anti-Mutant operations in the D.C. Ruins. However, their suits of power armor eventually broke down, and the knowledge of power armor trading faded from the Capital Wasteland, and both organizations faded from memory.
Meanwhile, most of the Brotherhood Outcasts, fearing that someone was targeting organizations with power armor and large amounts of tech, gathered what they could and head back west to join the original Brotherhood.
Part 2: Rise of the Raiders and Mercenaries
With the collapse of the Brotherhood and the Enclave, the various raider gangs in the Capital Wasteland began to rise in power due to the fact that they no longer had to worry about anything in power armor ruining their plans. Raiders and slavers increased their violent acts towards travelers, and some began to attack towns.
The largest and most infamous of these attacks was the siege of Rivet City at the hands of the Scrappers, a gang that made homemade weapons from trash. After three months of nonstop fighting, the Scrappers placed several scrap bombs, powerful explosives with scrap metal as their key fragmentation property, around the ship and detonated them, destroying the city and killing all of its inhabitants.
Of course, due to acts like this, and with no Brotherhood to protect them, mercenaries saw a spike in their income. Towns hired mercenaries, who in turn would train town militias for further defense. It slowly began a war between the mercenaries and the raiders, which would be waged across the Wasteland until the next major conflict began: the Pitt War.
Part 3: The Pitt War
While the people of the Capital Wasteland were struggling to keep things under control, massive changes were taking place in The Pitt. The proud leader of the Pitt raiders, Ashur, was on his deathbed due to an unknown illness. His wife was unable to cure his illness, and he died on the eve of his wife’s mass manufacturing of her miracle cure, created from their daughter Marie.
His power armor and position were handed down to Armas, a young and talented raider. Ashur hoped that the Armas would deliver the cure into the Capital Wasteland, so that it might be used to better everyone, thought Armas’ plans were quite different: he decided that cure would only be given to those who were willing to serve his every command. As soon as the cure had been doled out to the Pitt raiders, as well as a large number of the Pitt’s wild men, he set out with his army to conquer the Capital Wasteland.
After destroying the robots in Fort Constantine, the raiders used the old military base as their H.Q. and began attacking every town and city they could. This shook both the mercenaries and the raiders, as the numbers of the Pitt raiders both strained the mercenaries’ defense forces and forced the raiders out of their territory.
While no one liked the idea, the raiders and the mercenaries of the Capital Wasteland knew that they had to join forces to deal with the Pitt raiders. The five strongest raider gangs, the knife wielding Slashers, the technically experienced Glasses Gang, the Chinese communist Reds, the Scrappers, and the cannibalistic Trolls, joined together with the five strongest mercenary groups, the Regulators, the Talon Mercenaries, a group of ex-Brotherhood and Outcast fighters called the Fallen Knights, the patriotic War Hawks, and the pistol-totting Gunslingers, created a group known as the Big Ten, who’s leaders could decide how to proceed during the war.
After two long years of fighting, the Big Ten found out the location of the Pitt raider’s H.Q. as well as the fact that the raiders were getting all their ammunition from the Pitt’s ammo press. The Big Ten finally thought up a risky plan: first, they would attack Fort Constantine and kill the Pitt raider therein. After that, they would move through the tunnel leading to the Pitt, and destroy the Pitt Bridge. Once that was taken care of, the remaining forces would retreat back through the tunnel, and bring it down, sealing the Pitt off from the Capital Wasteland forever.
The mission took a week to complete, and many good people died, but in the end, the Pitt raiders and Armas were sealed away for good.
Part 4: Abe in the Wasteland
As one might expect, Abe was quite distraught over the events that had taken place in Point Lookout. He retreated to his home at the old Temple of the Union, and seldom left. A few months after the fall of Rivet City, Abe was visited by Ahab and his mercenary group, who wanted his help trying to find Anna, who had gone missing. Abe simply replied that he had no desire to be involved in anyone’s affairs, be they human, ghoul, or otherwise. In the Pitt War, Abe played no real role in the victory for the Wasteland’s forces, though he played a crucial role in keeping Canterbury Commons out of the hands of the Pitt raiders.
As he defended the streets of the trader town, his friends in Ahab’s merc group were fighting in the Pitt. Everyone in the group died destroying the Pitt Bridge. Abe was saddened, so much so that he wasn’t heard from until almost a century later, when the Big Ten called on him and many others for a suicide mission.
As is turned out, large groups of Pitt raiders had taken shelter in strategic areas in the southern area of the Capital Wasteland, including the D.C. Ruins. The Big Ten knew if they gave the raiders and more time, they could attempt to overrun the Wasteland again. Abe was sent with a large group to conquer the Ruins, and of five-hundred fighters sent in, only Abe and seven others survived.
After the final fight, Abe returned to his fortress of solitude, never to be heard from again. That is, until almost five years later, when our next story takes place….
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Posted: Fri Jul 31, 2009 2:57 am
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Posted: Fri Jul 31, 2009 6:39 am
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Posted: Fri Aug 14, 2009 7:59 pm
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The Chronicles of Abe: Return of the Enclave
By Haratio TaFotter
Far in the north-western sector of the Capital Wasteland, late at night, three men were sitting around a campfire. One of them was older, a grizzled and slightly overweight Caucasian. The other two were younger, one a jet addict and the other a young man of the Hillfolk of Point Lookout.
“I don’t like this,” said the old man as he threw a few more sticks onto the fire. “This was where the Pitt War was in full swing.”
“Its gonna be alright, right?” the addict asked as he looked around. “We’re still doing the job? We’re still gettin’ paid, right?”
“Calm down, we’ll get paid,” said the old man. “I just don’t like it out here, gives me the chills.”
While the two continued talking, the mutated young man was slowly
working his way to the group’s Brahmin. Whispering reassurances to the beast, he dug his deformed hand into a saddlebag, pulling out the glass object that they were delivering.
“Seth, put that damned thing down!” the old man shouted as he ran over. He grabbed the hillboy’s shoulder, but the boy turned on him, biting the old man’s hand.
The addict leapt up from his seat. Not personally hurt, he was always quick to spring on poor Seth. “Seth you idiot!” he shouted as he rained down blows with both hands. “What do me and Walt keep telling you about biting?!”
“Dunt bite!” the boy cried as he tried to shield his head. “Ya say dunt bite! Seth won’t do’t ‘gain, I swear!”
Walt walked over and threw the addict backwards, rolling him through the campfire. “Back off, Steven, it’s a shallow bite!” he shouted, reaching for his knife.
“Take it easy man,” Steven crooned. “I don’t want Seth messin’ up the job. We worked too hard to have him break that thing this close to the biggest payday of our lives.”
Walt sheathed his knife and looked north towards Raven Rock, their destination. “Get your things boys. I want to deliver this…..whatever it is and get this over with.” The two boys nodded and put out the camp fire. While all three wanted their pay, they also wanted to be rid of this strange gadget that they had been sent chasing after and be away from the place.
After a short jaunt ten minutes through the darkness, coaxing the Brahmin the whole way, they reached a cave, the mouth of which emitted an eerie green light. The all proceeded inside, where dirt and rock faded to electric lights and metal.
“This place used to be the Enclave’s main base, right?” the addict asked as he looked around, wincing at the lights.
“Enclave bad,” Seth mumbled to himself over and over again, thinking it to be some kind of talisman. “Enclave bad.”
“That’s right Seth,” Walt reassured, “the Enclave were bad. Let’s just keep moving: the sooner we get paid, the sooner we get out of here.”
The three came to the end of the long hallway, looking into a large, circular room. There sat their employer. He was wearing a black suit, his light blonde hair slicked back.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” he said as he stood from his chair. His charming voice, light blue eyes, and white smile made all of them uneasy. “I assumed you found it?”
Walt nodded, reaching into his pack and pulling out the simple glass object, which looked like a pyramid.
The man in the suit walked over and took the pyramid, examining it carefully. “Magnificent,” he gasped to himself. “Simply magnificent. I thought that no more existed, but it did!”
Steven edged his way to the front of the group. “So, what about the pay man?” he asked, rubbing his hands together.
The man looked as though he was snapped out of a daze, moving his attention back to the Wastelanders. “The what?”
“The money, man, the money!” the junkie said excitedly, almost shouted. “You know: cash, moolah, dough!”
“Yes, yes,” the main said as he reached into his suit jacket, pulling out a stack of bundled bills and threw them to Walt, who caught them deftly. “You will find the described amount, five-hundred pre-war dollars, worth something to the tune of…. eleven-thousand bottle caps if I’m not mistaken.”
As Walt went to stow the money, and didn’t notice Steven draw a .32 caliber pistol. “But you have more, right?” he asked as he raised the gun, aiming right at the man’s head.
The man put the object down on a table, smiling as he did. “That’s the thing I hate about you Wastelanders; you’re so greedy. You are given what you are promised, and all you want is more.”
“Just give me some more cash,” he said as he walked closer.
“Steven, what the Hell are you doing?!” Walt shouted.
“Oh please, you pistol isn’t even cocked,” the man said. Steven looked away from his target for but a second, and that’s when the man reacted. He reached into the opposite side of his coat, drew a plasma pistol, and fired one glowing green shot, melting Steven into a pile of goo! Walt moved to draw his knife, but he in turn was shot through the chest!
“You bad man!” Seth shouted as he bounded toward the man in the suit. He drew back his mutated fist, when the man snapped his fingers. In an instant, another man in a suit appeared. He was a full foot taller than the first man, with a shaved head concealed by a black bowler hat.
“Mister Beatle, please dispose of the freak,” the man said as he walked
away.
“As you wish, master,” he said in a flat, monotone voice. The man continued to study the device as he heard what he assumed was Mister Beatle putting his fist through Seth’s sternum.
“It will all be over soon,” he said as he walked farther and farther into the old base. “Soon, the Enclave will rise again!” |
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 11:08 am
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