So that was her name now. Harkness looked at her father and back at her and noticed, to his dismay, that she as giving said merc almost the same look that she had given him. Upon hearing her father call her name like that she flinched, and ducking her head, hurried towards the galley to return the mugs. Harkness tried to get a glimpse of the merc’s face again, but he had his back turned on him now. If Amanda was her, then who could the merc be? Harkness frowned a little as he watched her go… had she looked familiar to the mercenary, too?
Passing by them on their way back, both Amanda and her father cast a look at the mercs, hers a shy one, her father’s an outright furious glance that already burned with the sheen of alcohol in his bloodstream. “Don’t you dare look at her again”, he snapped at the mercs. “I know your kind! Fuck off!” “Easy there, old man”, the merc who had smiled at her gave back while lighting up a smoke. “I wasn’t doing anything to her...” He was a sinewy man with hair somewhere between auburn and ginger, a rascally smile and a goatee. Harkness couldn’t place him, at least not as easily as he had been able to recognise her. And he still wasn’t completely sure if he really had.
“Fuck off!” The merc was just about to make a nasty reply, Harkness could see his eyebrows draw themselves together, when the girl took her father’s arm and pulled. “Please daddy”, she muttered. “I’m afraid of these men. Let’s just go.” Her father huffed and dragged her away, and over her shoulder the girl cast a hasty, haggard look at the merc with a hardly perceptible shake of her head. The merc, in turn, swallowed what he had meant to say, obviously getting the message: Say anything more and you’ll only get me deeper into trouble.
Harkness followed the couple out and watched them descend the stairs, leaning on the railing before him with a frustrated sigh. But what could he do? He couldn’t go there and tell her to abandon her parents and live in Rivet City. He knew he couldn’t just go to her father and tell him to treat his daughter with more respect. With the man he likely was, that would only worsen her situation. But doing nothing... it was the worst moment of his life to watch her go like that, being dragged at her arm and scolded within an inch of her life for nothing more than looking at a man in passing.
He watched them load their brahmin, watched the two guards check their guns, and he watched them depart wondering if he would ever see her again. If it really was how it seemed to be, if it was her soul, the Lone Wanderer, the Saviour of the Wastes. He still shied away from using her name in this context because even if it was true, it wasn’t Her. She was dead.
Harkness watched them vanish out of sight and into the ruins of D.C, and with a shake of his head, went back inside.
x-x-x-x-x-x
It wasn’t even fifteen minutes after their departure that the door of the marketplace opened again and one of the guards on duty at the drawbridge yelled for help and a medic. All heads flew around, Harkness’ included, and to his utter dismay he saw the guard now help a staggering, bleeding figure down the stairs that he identified after a few moments as Amanda. He was at her side in an instant.
“Miss Amanda, what on earth...” She looked up at him, her eyes blank with horror. “Mutants”, she whispered hoarsely. “Mutants. Six of them... oh god, please help. Please help...” Blood was splattered on her face and all over her shirt, she was bleeding from gashes in her arm and on her cheek that seemed to have been caused by grazing shots, her shirt was torn in two places and her hair was matted with blood and dirt. “Please help them, oh god, someone... please...”
The mercenaries, having heard and seen what happened, had hurried over while loosening their guns in their holsters. But as they stood there now they exchanged a few glances with each other and with Harkness before one of them, a tall, lanky man with greying hair and moustache, spoke in a low voice. “Not likely any of them are still alive by now, what with six of those bastards having gotten them.”
Stronger than death itself 2b/?
Passing by them on their way back, both Amanda and her father cast a look at the mercs, hers a shy one, her father’s an outright furious glance that already burned with the sheen of alcohol in his bloodstream.
“Don’t you dare look at her again”, he snapped at the mercs. “I know your kind! Fuck off!”
“Easy there, old man”, the merc who had smiled at her gave back while lighting up a smoke. “I wasn’t doing anything to her...”
He was a sinewy man with hair somewhere between auburn and ginger, a rascally smile and a goatee. Harkness couldn’t place him, at least not as easily as he had been able to recognise her. And he still wasn’t completely sure if he really had.
“Fuck off!”
The merc was just about to make a nasty reply, Harkness could see his eyebrows draw themselves together, when the girl took her father’s arm and pulled.
“Please daddy”, she muttered. “I’m afraid of these men. Let’s just go.”
Her father huffed and dragged her away, and over her shoulder the girl cast a hasty, haggard look at the merc with a hardly perceptible shake of her head.
The merc, in turn, swallowed what he had meant to say, obviously getting the message: Say anything more and you’ll only get me deeper into trouble.
Harkness followed the couple out and watched them descend the stairs, leaning on the railing before him with a frustrated sigh. But what could he do? He couldn’t go there and tell her to abandon her parents and live in Rivet City. He knew he couldn’t just go to her father and tell him to treat his daughter with more respect. With the man he likely was, that would only worsen her situation. But doing nothing... it was the worst moment of his life to watch her go like that, being dragged at her arm and scolded within an inch of her life for nothing more than looking at a man in passing.
He watched them load their brahmin, watched the two guards check their guns, and he watched them depart wondering if he would ever see her again. If it really was how it seemed to be, if it was her soul, the Lone Wanderer, the Saviour of the Wastes. He still shied away from using her name in this context because even if it was true, it wasn’t Her. She was dead.
Harkness watched them vanish out of sight and into the ruins of D.C, and with a shake of his head, went back inside.
x-x-x-x-x-x
It wasn’t even fifteen minutes after their departure that the door of the marketplace opened again and one of the guards on duty at the drawbridge yelled for help and a medic. All heads flew around, Harkness’ included, and to his utter dismay he saw the guard now help a staggering, bleeding figure down the stairs that he identified after a few moments as Amanda.
He was at her side in an instant.
“Miss Amanda, what on earth...”
She looked up at him, her eyes blank with horror. “Mutants”, she whispered hoarsely. “Mutants. Six of them... oh god, please help. Please help...” Blood was splattered on her face and all over her shirt, she was bleeding from gashes in her arm and on her cheek that seemed to have been caused by grazing shots, her shirt was torn in two places and her hair was matted with blood and dirt. “Please help them, oh god, someone... please...”
The mercenaries, having heard and seen what happened, had hurried over while loosening their guns in their holsters. But as they stood there now they exchanged a few glances with each other and with Harkness before one of them, a tall, lanky man with greying hair and moustache, spoke in a low voice. “Not likely any of them are still alive by now, what with six of those bastards having gotten them.”