Sorry for the long wait anons, life’s been a bit difficult lately. Things are looking up, though, so I’ll hope I’ll keep the story running a bit more smoothly now. Anything still reading this? -------------------------------------
Tara had insisted on coming with him, she had no intention to wait alone on the other side of the river until he came back, she had said. So now she was here with him, but she could do nothing else but put a hand on his shoulder as they both stared into the narrow hollow between a few rocks and the empty bag that was the only thing left of Vincent’s equipment. “What now?”, Tara asked, her voice shaking. Vincent sighed, curling his fists in fruitless anger. “Unless we shed these garments and walk naked through the Mojave, a prospect that is as little appealing to you as it is to me, I gather, we have to make our way up to the I 93, cross the Colorado north of Hoover Dam again and head for New Vegas from the north-west. That would be the safest route, I gather, as there is little there that would need the attention of patrols.”
Tara knew better than to suggest talking with a securitron in the hopes of Yes Man recognising her. These robots had infrared target detection systems and would, daytime or night, shoot anyone wearing Legion armour on sight, and that meant long before Tara could even make an attempt of even calling out her name.
Rounding Hoover Dam cost them another day, and by the time they had finally reached the plains from which they could see the city lights, west of Lake Las Vegas, they had long since run out of food and water both. Yet drinking stagnant, irradiated lake water was nothing even the most desperate traveller would willingly do.
The sun was rising, but by now everything that counted was reaching the city walls, somehow. The human guards at least could be reasoned with, and they could only hope avoiding the patrolling robots from now on. Only a few hours, and they would be safe.
Vincent had little trouble in keeping himself going, despite the burning thirst and the aching muscles. Yet Tara, weakened by what she already had been through prior to the ordeal of this journey, could hardly walk anymore. Vincent supported her arm, using her spear as a walking stick, as they made their way across the desolate plain under a merciless sun.
Vincent was just about to tell her that he could make out the fortification ring when he heard, behind them, a dreadful, threatening humming. He let go of Tara’s arm and, raising the spear, spun around just in time to block the cazadore’s abdomen lashing out at him. Tara fell with a scream, but Vincent had no time to spare for her as he hefted the spear again in his left hand and drew his ripper with the right. And then he heard another humming, coming from the right. “Run!”, he yelled at her as he attacked the cazadore with his ripper. “RUN!” He couldn’t check if she was getting away, but to his horror the second cazadore just passed him by. It was after Tara, weakened, defenceless Tara, and Vincent threw himself at his own adversary with a scream of fury. Not now! Not now, so close to safety!
By sheer luck the cazadore’s stinger missed Vincent as he pressed his ripper against the chitinous carapace, putting every bit of force against it that he could summon. The howling of the ripper turned into a ghastly crackle as the weapon finally pierced the exoskeleton and splattered Vincent in liquefied innards.
He had spun around on his heels even before the dying cazadore had hit the ground, throwing the spear first to distract the cazadore from its fleeing prey only to discover to his horror that Tara was already toppling to the ground and bleeding from a circular wound on her left hip where the cazadore’s stinger had pierced a weaker point of the armour.
Turn Wounds into Wisdom 13a/?
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Tara had insisted on coming with him, she had no intention to wait alone on the other side of the river until he came back, she had said. So now she was here with him, but she could do nothing else but put a hand on his shoulder as they both stared into the narrow hollow between a few rocks and the empty bag that was the only thing left of Vincent’s equipment.
“What now?”, Tara asked, her voice shaking.
Vincent sighed, curling his fists in fruitless anger. “Unless we shed these garments and walk naked through the Mojave, a prospect that is as little appealing to you as it is to me, I gather, we have to make our way up to the I 93, cross the Colorado north of Hoover Dam again and head for New Vegas from the north-west. That would be the safest route, I gather, as there is little there that would need the attention of patrols.”
Tara knew better than to suggest talking with a securitron in the hopes of Yes Man recognising her. These robots had infrared target detection systems and would, daytime or night, shoot anyone wearing Legion armour on sight, and that meant long before Tara could even make an attempt of even calling out her name.
Rounding Hoover Dam cost them another day, and by the time they had finally reached the plains from which they could see the city lights, west of Lake Las Vegas, they had long since run out of food and water both. Yet drinking stagnant, irradiated lake water was nothing even the most desperate traveller would willingly do.
The sun was rising, but by now everything that counted was reaching the city walls, somehow. The human guards at least could be reasoned with, and they could only hope avoiding the patrolling robots from now on. Only a few hours, and they would be safe.
Vincent had little trouble in keeping himself going, despite the burning thirst and the aching muscles. Yet Tara, weakened by what she already had been through prior to the ordeal of this journey, could hardly walk anymore. Vincent supported her arm, using her spear as a walking stick, as they made their way across the desolate plain under a merciless sun.
Vincent was just about to tell her that he could make out the fortification ring when he heard, behind them, a dreadful, threatening humming. He let go of Tara’s arm and, raising the spear, spun around just in time to block the cazadore’s abdomen lashing out at him. Tara fell with a scream, but Vincent had no time to spare for her as he hefted the spear again in his left hand and drew his ripper with the right.
And then he heard another humming, coming from the right.
“Run!”, he yelled at her as he attacked the cazadore with his ripper. “RUN!”
He couldn’t check if she was getting away, but to his horror the second cazadore just passed him by. It was after Tara, weakened, defenceless Tara, and Vincent threw himself at his own adversary with a scream of fury. Not now! Not now, so close to safety!
By sheer luck the cazadore’s stinger missed Vincent as he pressed his ripper against the chitinous carapace, putting every bit of force against it that he could summon. The howling of the ripper turned into a ghastly crackle as the weapon finally pierced the exoskeleton and splattered Vincent in liquefied innards.
He had spun around on his heels even before the dying cazadore had hit the ground, throwing the spear first to distract the cazadore from its fleeing prey only to discover to his horror that Tara was already toppling to the ground and bleeding from a circular wound on her left hip where the cazadore’s stinger had pierced a weaker point of the armour.