After the Vault: Chapter 17 Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of Fallout or anything that comprises it. This is a non-profit story written solely for my own enjoyment and that of anyone who wishes to read it. The story and all original characters are mine. Please don't use them without permission. *** After the Vault -A Fallout Fan-Fiction by Nutzoide- Chapter 17 A Short Victorious Bloodbath Corva empty, the Hearts in residence, Mayor Golway dead and the threat of yet more Super Mutants to come was all too much to think about before the sun had even risen. Abigail had understood the necessity, but it had not made waking before the dawn any easier. The lack of light waiting to pierce her retinas was little consolation. She had staggered through the routine of rising and dressing without even enough presence of mind to curse the lack of water to wash in. She was too tired for that, and with no promise of a long, hot bath to soothe her aching muscles it had been easier not to dwell on her personal hygiene at all. There had only been room in her mind for one thing at a time right then, and that had been put towards overcoming her physical inadequacies for the sake of the battle ahead. That was why she put up no resistance when Sharn, Christian and Celia sat her down and placed a glass of Brahmin milk and some rat-meat sandwiches in front of her. She felt no more desire to eat now than she had done for the last two days, but managed what she could without a quarrel when her friends led by example. It surprised her just how much gossip filled the Seven Feet Under clubhouse as people slowly filed in. Considering that some of them might not live through the day their spirits were unexpectedly high. Just 30 hours ago the trained warriors in her caravan had come over quiet and contemplative at the prospect, but now with a town war on top of them chatter flew left and right, like a flock of birds out to alleviate their worries with flitting gossip and good humour. It did not seem in particularly good taste, considering all those who must have died already, but even Abigail seemed to lack the maudlin shadow of anticipation that had clung to her recently. Being so close to the fight, what was left but to try and eat breakfast and hope everything went well? She would not wish for good luck, because hers had always been a double edged sword, but perhaps Fate would smile on them. For all their faults, they were the good guys after all. As proven when Simon, the young twin with the pistol at his hip and a rifle hanging from his shoulder, pulled up a chair and sat himself down in the small gap between Sharn and herself. "Hey, uh, Abby, right?" It surprised her that he would want to speak to her when people like Kyle and Hickman were around, but she nodded. "Uh, I don't know the story here, but Trev and me thought you ought to know, after what the guys over there were saying. Chopper spent the night with the old Mayor's daughter. As in, 'spent the night'." That was a surprise. Not that such a thing had happened - the rumour had reached their table twenty minutes beforehand - but that he had thought to try and break the news to her was touching, in a funny sort of way. She cracked a small smile. "I know. What she does -and why- is her business. But thank you, Simon." "Oh. Okay. It's just they were talking about you two, and... Anyway, the Mayor's daughter was starting to talk about who should fight where, and even Rathley agreed that Chopper would be going with you." Again, that made sense to Abigail. "Yes, I expect she will. I suppose that we are used to working together." "Yeah, but you aren't even *talking* right now. And, well, *you're* still sick." Abigail didn't have a good answer for that one. "... Maybe, but I can still shoot. Even if I can't hit anything, it should scare the Hearts." "And Abigail has reason enough not to give Chopper the time of day," Sharn added, standing up for Abigail without hesitation. Abigail didn't disagree. "Don't worry, Simon. She's not nearly the person I thought she was, but I won't get in her way." "But can ya' trus' her to do the same?" Christian asked from across the small table. "Tha's importan' in a gun fight, Abby." Abigail lied. "Yeah, I think I can." Truthfully, she really didn't know though. If she couldn't trust Chopper with her heart, could she trust her with her life? At least Chopper seemed to have understood Abigail's anger, and gone back to Erin. Maybe that would make being around her easier. *** By the time the sun had started casting its harsh orange light into the sky every one of Erin's insurgents was already well awake and fed, and the plan of action had been decided. Though close to the Cobalt Line Corva was not a small town, and so their force would be split. With the twenty Corvan natives added to their number they could cover a lot of ground, separating into five teams that would sweep through the northern side of town and then down to converge on Main Street. It would leave the damaged south side unchecked for enemies, but would at least mean that they could clear the way to take back the police station that Jackhammer had commandeered for his gang without worrying about attacks from behind. Once he and his Super Mutants were gone they could go south and finish the rest at their leisure, but the police house would likely take a concerted effort to reclaim, and the less time Jackhammer had to prepare for them the better. Abigail's team was the largest, and possibly the best equipped, but in contrast they would be taking the most direct and conspicuous route through the town. Their first stop would be the pump house, and then on to Market Street, securing the way for the two westward teams to meet them at the T junction of Market Street and Main Street. Since Market Street would be the most open route, and therefore at most risk of an unexpected fire fight, Chopper was the natural choice to be assigned to it. The rest of Abigail's group followed, being used to working together as a team, and Simon, Trevor, Kirren and Vas joined them to make sure that if they were caught they would have an overwhelming advantage in firepower against any normal raider patrol. Maintaining the element of surprise was of utmost importance, so Rathley, Kyle and Vas would be the forward line. All three of them were skilled at both hand to hand combat and stealth, the aim being to ambush and take out as many raiders as possible without alerting the town with gunshots and starting a shooting war. One or two bullets they might be able to get away with - for all the Hearts knew one of their own might be having a bad Psycho trip - but more than that and it would be obvious a battle had broken out. "And the rest of us?" Abigail asked, trailing behind the group with Sharn and Kirren as they weaved their way through the ghoul quarter. "Backup," Kirren replied, her face set in stone and her voice low. "If it starts sounding like a war out here we need to be ready to give them one. The Hearts are only careless when they're off guard, and we need to be ready for that. They're rash, yes, but if they're drugged up or kamikaze crazed they can afford to be." Kirren gave her another look. "Are you sure you're okay to fight?" Abigail guessed she must still look as bad as she felt. "... I can still hold a gun." If she hadn't been so concerned about her trembling hands her knives would have been an even better option. They were silent, as long as they were precise enough to both hit their mark and kill him on the first throw. That would have been a gamble at her peak though, so she doubted she could manage such a feat right now. Better to leave the killing to the professionals. What a grim thought. *** Sitting smack bang in centre of Market Street's northern end, looking down almost the entire length of the town, the pump house was an exceptional vantage point for a rifleman such as Sharn or Simon, but made for a mediocre ambush position at best. Rathley wouldn't even have considered it worth bothering with, if it weren't for the fact that the raiders had to drink in lieu of the absent water caravans. Water traders were often close to criminal themselves - few made better extortionists in the desert - but against the raider gangs it was safer for them to join with the other caravans and avoid such trouble altogether, rather than risk getting shot by a pissed off ganger who didn't like their price. So, if the Hearts had no choice but to come then Abigail's team had to decide how to make the most of their advantage. A sniper's position would only be worthwhile to take down any raider lucky enough to escape down the street, but they had people to spare and Sharn was more than happy to lie on the roof out of the way, hoping no-one would have to call her upright. Everyone else would have to hide either in the small pump house itself or within sight of it, which was tricky when it faced out into Market Street. Chopper and Trevor were not armed for anything but a full on fire fight, and Chopper looked uncomfortable as ever being on the front lines anyway, so Kyle put them outside the pump house's back door. They could serve as guards if nothing else, and should things go to pot they could burst in guns blazing. Similarly there would only be room for four to be lying in wait inside, so Kirren and Simon snuck their way into an abandoned store on the east side of the street. From there they had a good view over the wrecked carts outside to see the pump house door, and anyone who came in. Armed with the radio transmitter Abigail had tuned up they were the first watch, and again they could lay down covering fire to help the main attackers get clear if need be. Abigail realised what that meant, blood draining from her already pale face. She was left waiting inside with Kyle, Rathley and Vas. "K-Kyle, I don't think I can do that." It was a whispered confession, and one that he had to be expecting, but she couldn't bring herself to go against his plan while everyone else was still within earshot behind the pump house. His crack-toothed smile might not have been able to win her heart, but it could still make her weak legs tremble when he turned it on her, no doubt whatsoever on his face. No wonder Sharn was so content most of the time. "I know you're still hurting Abby, but let's face it; you know how to get your PipBoy and the radio to work together, and I've seen you fight with those knives. Rathley and me can probably handle this ourselves," which earned him a dark snarl from Vas, "but if you could run up and stab a super mutant, you can stab a raider. Have a little faith in yourself." "But I don't," Abigail replied, genuinely scared that *anyone* would have faith in her to fight right now. "Kyle, when things go wrong around me, they go *really* wrong!" "Bullshit." Those who were left in the alley looked to Chopper, standing against the wall, already in her position by the door. "Sooner or later that excuse is going to get old." It was the first thing Chopper had been given the chance to say to her in days, and it made her blood seethe behind her eyes. "Don't you dare say anything," Abigail hissed, trembling. "This isn't the time, Chopper," Kyle admonished, but Chopper seemed not to care about his opinion in the least. "It's the perfect time. We're going into a fight and she's getting superstitious." "Shut up!" Abigail found Chopper staring her dead in the eyes, and her breakfast churned in her stomach as the conflict focused squarely on her. "These guys are putting you right on the firing line, Abby. Say that the ghost of your little Alfred does show up. Whose fault will it be that you were there?" Abigail wanted to glare back, but against that stare she couldn't. And no, this *wouldn't* be her fault if it did go wrong, but sick or not she had to make sure she didn't screw it up, for everyone's sake. All she had to do was tune in and monitor her PipBoy. She might not even have to use her weapons at all. She stood silent waiting for someone else to say something. They didn't. No-one else knew the story, and she didn't want to tell them. Instead Chopper turned away and opened the door. "So get your ass in there already." Vas chuckled as the four of them filed in. "Lively lot." Rathley gave the bounty hunter a grin. "You have no idea, Sugar." *** Sat in the shadows either side of the closed doorway, Abigail, Kyle, Rathley and Vas waited. The green glow of the PipBoy's screen illuminated Abigail's sallow face as she counted each and every second that passed. Every now and then Simon or Kirren's voice would crackle out of the computer's speaker, bringing them all to sharp attention, but for twenty agonising minutes there was no call to ready themselves. Kyle and Rathley stood hugging the left wall. They would be spotted first, but both seemed as relaxed and professional as Abigail knew them to be. She was crouched opposite them. She would have a knife in her hand eventually, but she was to stay down until everyone had made their moves, and even then her role was just to surprise anyone Rathley or Kyle struggled with. Vas had toppled an old filing cabinet to give Abigail her niche to hide in, and was now perched on it, looking alternately bored and anxious. Eventually the whispered call came, Simon's voice only just above the static. "There they are. Four Hearts, and six townspeople." They had people with them, to help carry the water. Fuck. Obvious, but not anticipated. Of course they had people serving them. They'd taken over an entire town. "It looks obvious who is who though. Only the Hearts are armed that we can see. Two with spears, two with guns." A terribly pregnant pause. "Raider with gun taking the door, spears flanking townies behind." Then the radio static cut out, just as the door opened. Abigail tried so hard not to make a noise as a pair of heavy leather boots, festooned with loose buckles, stepped straight past her. A large hand holding what Abigail could recognise as a 10 mil pistol swung lazily in his far hand, right next to Kyle's vague silhouette. "Okay ladies, straight line as usual... What the fu-*hurk*!" All three of the others moved in unison. The light from the doorway had caught the curved chest of Rathley's metal armour, giving him away, but not before the unaware Heart had taken three steps in, within the grizzled survivalist's reach. Rathley's left hand had shot out and cut off the man's exclamation as it snapped closed around his throat, while the right had neatly plucked the pistol out of his hand. Rathley used all his weight to push the man off balance and into Vas' toppled cabinet. The Heart cracked his head on the wall as he fell. Rathley let the pistol fall free and grabbed the Heart's hair, slamming it into the rusted cabinet twice for good measure - *crack*, *CRACK*. At the same time Kyle had dragged in the first of the townie women and twisted around as she shrieked, trading places with her so that he could dash out and into the street, his knife drawn. Whatever happened then Abigail couldn't see, but a single cry and then the sound of a slumping body told her all she needed to know. Kyle had been much more efficient that Rathley. With the townie woman clear of the doorway and Kyle gone the second raider guard could see Abigail crouched in the shadows, fumbling for her blade, and he charged forward, levelling his spear at her. "Fucking bitch!" Crouched in the hollow between the wall and the fallen cabinet she had no way of escaping, but beside her, unconcerned as Rathley beat a man's brains into her perch, Vas whispered, "Sit tight, Vault Girl." The raider couldn't see Vas past the doorway, but from Abigail's reaction Vas knew he was coming, and Simon had told her how he would be armed. It didn't stop Abigail from screaming out of sheer fright, but just as the spear passed through the doorway a thin, all but invisible wire looped out and suddenly tightened around the pole, forcing it up and away from Abigail as the man charged recklessly forward. Vas' garrotte might not have caught the man's throat, but she pulled it up towards her, bringing the spear with it, until the Heart had no choice but to follow, staggering over Abigail and the toppled furniture as he went. Abigail, seeing her opportunity as he stumbled to a halt, pulled her knife from her pocket and thrust upwards. It was a haphazard strike, but it dung deeply into the man's stomach. He might have screamed, had Vas not already freed her wire from his weapon looped it around his neck. Not that silence was possible now. The captive townsfolk had let out screams of their own as Kyle had come charging out, not only at the suddenness of the attack, but knowing that the Heart behind them held a sub machine-gun in his hands, and cared nothing for their lives if they were between him and any target he might have. None of the four inside had been in any position to deal with him, so from her vantage point across the street Kirren waited until the last possible moment before taking her clear shot at the man's head. Though only a pistol her custom made .223 calibre weapon was more than accurate enough, and the loss of her left arm had not dulled her aim. The rifle bullet hit its target squarely and the man's head exploded outwards from his left temple, leaving the body to topple from its suddenly slack legs. Hopefully the enclosure of the building around her and the noise of the townie crowd had dulled the sharp report of the shot. Inside Abigail waited, trembling, until the man above her went limp before withdrawing her blade. Her attack and the sudden onset of adrenaline made her nauseous again, but worse than that was the look of victory and exhilaration on Vas' face. Was that how Abigail now looked as well, at the peak of a fight? As everyone emerged, eager to hide the bodies and their newly rescued townsfolk, Abigail slipped out to the back of the pump house to finally let her body do as it wished and be rid of her breakfast. "So," Chopper said, happy to stay put unless her skills were called for, "none of that blood is yours, I hope?" Abigail looked over to her, probably looking filthy, before turning back to her uncomfortable work. "No." And from the doorway Rathley appeared, sounding amused. "Not too bad, Sugar. Shame about the scream, that wasn't so cool. But when your ghost turns up, you shank *him* in the belly too." That was so typical of him. At least she guessed he was trying to be nice. "...You're making fun of me." "Who's makin' fun, Sugar? You ask, and we'll hold the fucker down for you!" It was actually a nice sentiment, in a perverse sort of way. Especially since the pair of them looked like they'd enjoy it. *** After having waited so long for the Hearts' arrival the debate over whether to stay or move further in was a short one. Even if Kirren's gunshot hadn't been enough to bring the raiders running a second company would be dispatched to find the first sooner or later, but by that point the Hearts would be alert and ready for any fight they were given. Instead they dumped the raiders' bodies in one of the abandoned shops and did what they could to mask the bloodstains from Kirren's kill before retreating back into the alleyways behind Market Street and moving on. The captives did not seem too worse for wear and had been sent to hide until the fighting died down. Quite what 'worse for wear' meant coming from Rathley was anyone's guess, but Abigail had been too busy throwing up to talk to them, so she took it as read that they were okay and tried not to think much more about it. Instead she thanked Vas for saving her life and joined with their troop as they crept onward. "Likewise," Vas replied quietly, a smile on her tight lips. "You make for some good bait. You should have seen the look on his face when it was *you* who gutted him!" Well, what had the bastard expected? Abigail thought, irritated. If he was going to try and kill her then she would return the favour, especially after everything his gang had done to this town and its inhabitants. The visceral memory of the knife pulling in his stomach still made her feel ill, but she had experienced much worse already. At the other side Sharn, Kyle and Simon were similarly distracted, finally having got the chance to congratulate Kirren on her shot. It was one any of them could have made, but it was Kirren's timing as well as her aim that drew their appreciation. Sharn had been too late in getting a bead on the man, while Kyle had not seen him for the crowd of screaming prisoners in his way. "You could have beaten me to it," Kirren replied to Simon in equal parts modesty and chastisement. "I could have missed." "But you had him. I'd have shot if you'd missed, but we're supposed to be keeping quiet, right?" And he spoke as a junior Merc to a professional fighter. Kirren was the more experienced shooter, even though she had preferred rifles to handguns in the past. "I didn't leave much room for error," Kirren admitted. "I'm used to shooting at my leisure." Across the town, from the eastern side, the sharp crack of gunfire broke through the sluggish morning air. First one shot, then another two to finish the job. Their group may have been the first to fire that morning, but clearly they would not be the only ones. Everyone halted, waiting to hear some sort of alert or rallying cry. Once again it didn't come. Kyle huffed, almost disappointed. "Either these Hearts are all hung- over still or they're the most unconcerned sons of bitches I've ever fought." "You'd prefer to have them breathing down your neck right now?" Chopper asked. "After they went to the trouble of getting *all* their camps together to take over this place? Yeah, some sign that they care that we're here might be nice. It's creepy, not knowing if they've cottoned on yet." *** They had. The Hearts did not need a chain of command to stir them into action as long as at least one raider had a decent head on his shoulders and the initiative to follow up on a shot coming from so close to their only supply of water. For all he knew it was another attack from some of the few remaining town fighters who had not fled, died or been forced under his boss' thumb. There had been no sign of a fight beyond a bit of bloody dirt, and that was hardly unusual, but whoever they were causing a ruckus it was probably safest to kill them anyway. *** The wide alleys behind Market Street were becoming more and more battle scarred as Abigail's group pressed further into the town. Occasional bullet holes pock-marked the clay or metal hut walls, and every now and then they would come across an overturned cart or stall, dragged back into the alley to provide a makeshift barricade. There was even a body still lying in the street, at least a week of sun having dried it out and leaving just a stagnating husk. Either it was a warning, or just a show of utter unconcern that the man had even bothered to take up arms against the raiders. "Poor sod." Trevor said from the front of the group, looking down at the dry body. Then from behind the next building a bald man strode into view, clad in faded dungarees and heavy boots. A breastplate fashioned from some sort of insect carapace adorned his chest, and a battered double barrel shotgun sat in his hands, already pointed squarely at the lot of them. "Yeah, doesn't it just kill ya'?" After the ominous silence his appearance alone was enough to make all of them bolt. Abigail ran back to hide behind a broken, top-loading washing machine that was parked out in the street, but few of them were so close to cover. The shotgun blast that followed blew Trevor clean off his feet. A gaping hole in his side bled out in an elegant pirouette of gore before his body hit the dirt and rolled to an awkward stop. That alone was enough to freeze Simon in his place, screaming his brother's name, and Kirren yanked him into the passage that led out to Market Street just in time for a bullet to catch his shoulder instead of his windpipe. In seconds Chopper and Vas joined Abigail behind her washer, crowding her for what little cover it afforded. There was no way for either of them to advance or retreat enough to make it to an adjoining alley - they had both been at the rear with Abigail - so the three of them cowered as the Heart's second shell slammed into their meagre barricade. "Christ," Vas swore, tearing her pack off her back and pulling out a revolver - much smaller than Abigail's but obviously well kept, "I never even saw *one* of them!" Two shots rang out from further forward as someone fired back, only to be answered by the second crack of a rifle. "One on the ground, a shooter on the south west roof..." Chopper nodded, stooping over them both. "Two more at least. There's another barricade in the right alley. These fuckers knew we were coming. They were *waiting*." Vas huffed and pulled a machete out to go with her handbag pistol. "Right, they're mine then. Cover me when they start shooting again." Chopper nodded, her face hard. "Cover I can do." What they had planned Abigail could only guess at, but she followed their shared resolve, her nervous fingers wrapped around the grip of her own chosen gun. "Just scare them back, right?" Vas gave her a querying look, but any talk of in-depth tactics would have to wait. The deafening boom of another shotgun shell signalled Vas' dash, and instantly Abigail was up on her knees, her pistol in her hand and firing haphazardly at the Heart with the shotgun. Her mix of ammunition evidently did its job because her first, louder shot of heavy-packed ammunition made the raider jump back a full three feet, and though her shots went wide the raider fired back at her in pure reflex, ignoring Vas as she sprinted across the street and taking his aim off his original target altogether. It felt like forever as the gun kicked backwards in Abigail's hands, threatening to tear off her fingers in her weakened state, but the flash of the shotgun's muzzle aimed squarely at her made her realise that she shouldn't have stayed up to shoot a full four bullets. The lethal spread of buckshot reached their washing machine just as Abigail was yanked back down behind it, and she gasped as she hit the ground. She didn't know whether that shot had been on target, but if so it had been a close thing. "Watch your bloody head before they blow it off!" Chopper yelled at her, sparing her a brief, irate glance before her arm stretched out over the washing machine to spray ten millimetre bullets up towards the rifleman on the roof. His careful aim at Kirren, Simon and Kyle had been shaken only for a moment, and only now was he forced back behind the lip of the roof. Abigail frowned back at her. "What do you care if they do?" It was spiteful, and petty in the face of the lead that was flying across the intersection, but damn it she was still angry and it made her feel better after almost being killed twice today. It was even worse that Chopper had been the one to pull her back. The look that she got in return dissolved all that bile like a copper coin in a canister of hydrochloric acid. "Of course I fucking care!" Chopper roared, her eyes ablaze with fury. "If you're going to be out here then pay a-fucking-ttention, or else you're going to get yourself fucking killed!" Abigail sat there as a few more shots rang out, and from somewhere around the corner a man screamed in the background while her brain ran circles. No-one had ever shouted at her like that, and it had shocked her into a very uncomfortable silence. "Now pull yourself together. The others have their hands full crossways," Chopper said, motioning to the cross road of alleys that the others had scattered into, both towards and away from the barricaded raiders. "That leaves this one to us as long as he doesn't circle around." With that said she popped her head up just long enough to see that the shotgun wielding raider hadn't re-appeared yet, but she ducked back again to deny the sniper a shot at her. "Soon, or else he's bolted. Three... Two..." Abigail swallowed whatever she was going to try and say. She had no comeback yet, and they had to kill this man before he killed anyone else. "One!" They both appeared, Chopper from the top and Abigail from the side of their cover, but there was still no sign of the shotgun wielding Heart. In fact, all that was left was a rifle report from the roof *opposite* the Heart's building, and the sight of the raider slumping over the roof's edge. "Clear!" The voice was Sharn's, coming from that opposite roof, and one by one their company filed out into the street, wary for more incoming Hearts but looking pleased. Vas clambered over the eastern barricade grinning like a loon, an empty pistol in one hand and a very bloody machete in the other. She was already festooned with her spoils, while Rathley appeared from the far end, his fists bruised and bloodstained. "What happened to our 'no shooting' policy guys?" he joked. From the wall behind him the shotgun Heart's body slumped, beaten to death. The rest of them just got to play as distractions this time. Kirren, Kyle and Simon appeared from behind their meagre alleyway cover just as Abigail and Chopper did. Their victory was tarnished when Simon slumped down beside his brother's blasted body, his own right arm hanging low on his bleeding shoulder. "God... God damn it!" The young man wept, his good fist clenched in his lap. "I'll kill these fuckers. I rip their fucking hearts out! Bastards." Abigail couldn't help but sympathise with the boy's loss. There was a cruel symmetry in losing his brother in the same fight that was supposed to be their revenge for their father. "I'm sorry, Simon." But unfortunately there wasn't time to mourn. These raiders at least knew what was going on, and had somehow anticipated their movements. They needed to get to the junction of Market and Main Street quickly, and hope that the same did not happen to their other teams. If the Hearts had not been reporting a shootout to their boss at the police house before, they certainly would now. However, it was not only the Hearts that came out of the woodwork after such a showdown. Guns were quickly drawn again when two large men walked straight into their path as the group left the scene of the shootout, but nervous trigger fingers were kept in check long enough for them to recognise the men. "Jassic? Bason? You're alive." Jassic gave them all a huge, bearded grin, and they both let out the breaths they'd held. "Damn right we are. And we got to you lot in time if you're doin' somethin' more than wanderin' around waitin' to get jumped. This way, quick, before more of those broc-heads get here." "Nice to see you too guys," Kyle said, "but we're on a time limit." Bason just kept smiling. "Trust me, if you lot are here we're with you, but you'll want to see this. The Hearts might have got hold of Steph, but they didn't get her stash!" *** Sitting at the third floor window of the police station Stephanie Brown hoped for the hundredth time that was what had happened. In the week since her capture she had seen hide nor hair of her remaining friends, and while the Hearts had not treated her as badly as she had first feared, neither did they keep her informed of what went on outside. Hers was the old upper floor arsenal, cleared out by the Raiders and now containing only her tools, a work bench and a dusty old mattress for her to rest on. Apparently she was of some value to Jackhammer, as she hadn't been 'invited' to their many sex and drug parties on the lower floors. He said he didn't want her coming over 'all emotional' after a bout of mass rape and throwing herself out of the one window that her cramped room afforded her. Instead she was kept locked there to work on the weapons that he brought her, and to his credit - and her misfortune - he knew a rigged gun when he saw one. She had lost the use of two of her fingers after she had tried that, and now the shattered digits sat wrapped together on her left hand, their constant throbbing reminding her that misbehaviour would not be forgiven. If the Hearts had managed to find the contents of her shop she was sure the vile man would have come to crow about it - he was a braggart beyond compare - so hopefully it was all still safe and unclaimed. Though many of the more potent munitions had been disarmed there were still enough guns, ammunition and ready explosives to satisfy even Jassic's hunger for wanton destruction. And likewise, if her captors got hold of them... Even the Brotherhood of Steel would be given a run for their money if that were the case. Especially on top of the weaponry the Hearts *did* still possess. The only question was what took everyone so long. Surely not all her friends had been killed, and they could not flee and leave her there to rot. Likewise, Erin couldn't have abandoned her town. Not even after Jackhammer had killed Mayor Golway. She shuddered at the memory, Jackhammer carving up the man's body like a Brahmin carcass in front of the entire, defeated town. No, Erin was more determined than that. More single minded. She would want revenge. Even if the Brotherhood wouldn't come until their Leaders decided it was 'worthwhile', Erin would be back as fast as she could be. A couple more shots rang out across the town, and Stephanie dared to hope that her ambitious friend might have arrived already. Just as she had hoped the day before, and the one before that; every day since she had been dragged into that cell. A loud click from behind her signalled another visit from her captor, and she pulled her sheet closer around her shoulders to cover herself. Though he hadn't touched her, Jackhammer still said that her body ought to be appreciated, and his 'appreciating' eyes made her sick to her stomach every time he visited her cell of a room. Even Manny, scary as he was, was preferable to this man. Hell, he was *nice* to her. "Stephanie, my dear. Wearing a dreary expression as ever." Jackhammer was not tall, not imposing, and not even particularly muscular beneath the belted-together sleeves of cured leather that passed for his armoured shirt. But he was smart, manipulative, and ruthless. He smoothed a hand through his slicked back locks of clean brown hair before depositing a pair of handguns on her table. They were good guns, right for his build and well kept. "I've just been told we have a little rat problem out there today, my dear Stephanie, as I'm sure you've heard. That's what we get for punishing a town that's so fond of the things. But we'll have to put them down sooner or later. Apparently a few of those rats have reputations that precede them, and teeth to match." "I hope they bite your arms off." Jackhammer gave her a disapproving look, though nothing as hard as Stephanie tried to give him. "That's not nice, Stephanie. I suggest you do as you're told, because this isn't repair work. I'm giving you a choice this time. I don't often give people choices." He pointed to the pistols. "Pick one, and re-fit it to fire 14mm rounds." To fire what? Stephanie frowned. "I can't. With all the work required you might as well just buy a 14mm gun to begin with..." Jackhammer's face contorted into a roar before she had finished speaking. "DON'T refuse! I *have* 14mm guns, Stephanie dear." This time the sycophancy reeked of razor sharp, threatening sarcasm. "I need something that *isn't* 14 mil shooting those bullets, and I need it quickly. You tell me what *you'll* need to do it, and get it done by the time those rats poke their heads out of their holes, or I tie you to that table and fuck you until you bleed. And I know you don't want that." Oh God, I can't give him what he wants, Stephanie thought. Her breathing began to quake, and she tried very hard not to let her limbs do the same. "It... It would just be a hacked up 14 mil with a new chassis, slide... A proper hybrid would take days." To her fearful relief Jackhammer's expression dissolved back into affable good humour. "A quick, *professional* hack-up would be fine, as long as you put your heart into it. Call it more a matter of showmanship if you like, but it needs to be special, dearest Stephanie. After all, your best friend in all the world has come to visit - even bringing the cavalry with her which I told her would make me very unhappy - so just think how she'd feel if it wasn't one of your special guns that blew her pretty little brains out." Erin! That was who it had to be. Jackhammer knew about their friendship - it was why he had put so much effort into making sure he got hold of her alive. I'm sorry, Erin, she thought as she shakily told Jackhammer what she would need to do the job. I have to do it. But please get me out of here! *** Another burst of gunfire broke Abigail from her reverie. An automatic rifle of some sort, way to the west of Bason's unassuming home-come-storehouse. That was the sound of another full on ambush, and she could only hope that her side were the ones doing the ambushing. "Are you okay, Abby-girl?" Sharn's kind, often energetic voice sounded tired, but Abigail was glad to have someone distract her from the snowballing worries that roiled inside her head. "Yeah. I'm fine." Wow, that was a shock. No self-defeating honesty came from her, even though her own voice was tight. Just a nice, comfortable white lie, and a forced smile, and suddenly Abigail *did* feel a little better. "I feel bad for Simon," she admitted, looking at the boy - nearly a man - loading up a huge pistol from the wardrobe that Bason and Jassic had been so eager to show them. He had done all his silent mourning for now, and instead wore a mask of cold, calculated recklessness. She worried that his own safety was now secondary to his spilling as much Raider blood as he possible could. "Is he going to be okay?" Sharn clearly had doubts herself. "Hopefully. We don't ask things like that until the fighting's over, but we'll try and look out for him." "Good." Next to all that, Abigail's last few days of ineffectual muscles and chronic self-deprecation looked pretty pathetic, whether she had the excuse of withdrawal or not. It was strange how the worst that the wasteland had to offer had that effect on her. It didn't feel like a desensitisation, though that must have been part of it. Nor was it just a matter of perspective, or thrill seeking. She didn't *like* any of this. She just kept running forward anyway, letting the adrenaline carry her, afraid that her inaction might be what cost her something precious. Perfectly normal for the athlete she had once been; without instant reactions and trust in her body's own split second judgements even a back flip on stage might have caused her a nasty injury. Perhaps she was too used to relying on her instincts when she couldn't trust her mind to pull her through. She had decided not to take anything from what remained of Stephanie's stock. She already had more guns than she ever hoped to use, and more ammunition than she would have time to re-load. She didn't know what she could do when they did all get to the police house either. She was in no fit state to make a charge, nor was her aim good enough to take out the Hearts who might be shooting from within. She could provide cover, and a distraction, but she had decided that those making the real assault were the ones who would need their pick from the small arsenal stashed in Bason's closet. Bason didn't entirely agree though. He had been one of those few who had offered Abigail a genuinely friendly smile during her first weeks on the surface, and he offered it again now as he approached her, a bandolier in hand. "Hey Abby. Not joining us? I wouldn't blame you, with the way you're looking, but it would be a shame." "I- uh, I don't know how much use I'll be," Abigail replied honestly, "but I won't stay behind. Maybe I can help cover you going in." "That's the Abigail I remember. Though I didn't think you liked guns?" She shrugged, owning up to the friendly accusation. "I don't think I can afford not to have one any more. And they're actually kind of interesting. On the inside, I mean. When they aren't killing people." "Well, when Steph wanted to clean out her stuff so the Hearts wouldn't get it, I saw these, and you know what? I thought it was a shame you weren't around to use them, with the arm you've got." Abigail looked down at the oversized leather belt he held. Six pockets adorned its front, each holding a smooth, dark grenade, flecked with scratches but immaculately clean. Abigail immediately backed up a step. "If you don't want them I'm sure we can hand them out, but frankly," Bason admitted in earnest, "if I wanted anyone hurling these things around me, I'd be the girl who could take on a giant mutant with *throwing knives*." *** True to Bason's word the detour had only cost them a few minutes, and the ten of them reached their rendezvous in silence. While they had not encountered any more raiders themselves the reports of shots across the town were becoming more frequent and prolonged, and the hushed consensus was one that now favoured speed over strategy. The Hearts would be ready for them regardless, but the longer they waited for their reinforcements the greater their chance of being caught by more roaming Hearts, and of giving away their location. Instead they made the dash across Market Street and up Main on their own. If the other groups made it to their rendezvous then they were capable enough to do the same. In the mean time Sharn, Kyle and Rathley could scope out the station on their way east, since the place towered over every building around it. "Ugh, it's crawling," Kyle groused, once he had returned from their first good look at the front. Two Hearts stood outside the main door and another six sat around in the courtyard playing cards and roughhousing. There were at least another five he could see inside the building's main hall, through the open double doors. "You expected anything less?" No-one had, but they glowered at Rathley anyway. "Of course not," Vas challenged, clearly unused to Rathley's brand of wit. "But we can't make a charge if that's the case, and we can't win an attritional block war if they have machine guns and explosives. We should have gone up behind them, not up the street opposite!" "And I told you that they keep the Super Mutants stationed there!" Kirren hissed back. She pointed to Jassic and Bason. "They've been here, they know. Right?" Jassic nodded. "It's not like we haven't tried that one, girl. You don't want that minigun pointing at you when you've only got two feet on either side of you to move, and a thirty foot sprint to your target. At least out in the open we can get about, and there's cover in the caravan yard." Kirren's plan wasn't popular with the newcomers, but it wasn't hard to understand. "So, use a grenade or two to reduce their numbers out there, then split into your teams and make a run for the courtyard. By the time they've recovered - or realised they're under attack and got to the windows - we should already be in a good position, and we can start the real fighting from there." "And this mutant thing? What about that?" Simon asked. "If you can see him, empty your gun," Kyle replied. "And pray he doesn't get to return the favour." "Go for the eyes, hands and joints," Bason added. "The first one could suck up lead like a sponge, but we *did* slow it down." "Fine," Vas replied, looking argumentative and turning her frustrations onto Abigail. "Then the question is, can you get a grenade into the middle of them from here?" Abigail looked back at her, wondering the same herself. It would have been easier if her arms hadn't felt like lead. "... I can try." "Atta girl." Bason patted her on the shoulder, and Abigail felt a little of her confidence return. "Let's do it then, while they're still only half-expecting us." *** It was an easy throw really; no more than eighty feet across the street and into the courtyard where the Hearts were playing. The problem was that Abigail had never played softball while sick, and the hard metal orb in her hand weighed at least twice as much one of those. There was little time for hesitation though, and as much as it worried her the pin came away with only cursory resistance. Standing there in the slim alley between two buildings, only the Hearts' own pre- occupation kept them from spotting her, and the two men on guard *would* spot her soon. But for that moment the only worry in her mind was, 'Don't drop the grenade. For the love of God, don't drop it!' She didn't give herself time to. As soon as the pin had left her fingers she began the windmill in her right arm, hoping that the burning ache in those muscles was proof that she was putting enough power behind it. Then the thing was gone, flying fast in the familiar shallow arc that she used to see so often, and Abigail flattened herself against the side of the house on her right. One of the guards saw the little metal bomb as it soared past his field of vision, and he ducked back into the doorway with a strangled cry of warning, but the Hearts in the courtyard merely looked up from their games to see it hit the ground not five feet from their table. The scream of "Grenade!" was cut short as the aged, temperamental chemical timer ran out, and with a deafening *BANG* the entire caravan yard was showered in metal, blood and splintered wood. All six of the raiders were hurled from their feet or their chairs, slammed into the air like screaming rag dolls to be shredded by fragments of metal. Five landed as nothing more than bloody, broken cadavers, while one unlucky man remained conscious, deafly screaming through sudden tears of agony as he came to rest in the dirt. It was over in seconds, but the morbid sight didn't fade from Abigail's vision. Blooms of blood first, far finer and more powder-like than Abigail had ever seen on the big screen, only to be replaced with the steady crimson spread of ruptured, pumping arteries when the smoke cleared. She was not left to stare for long. With the deafening explosion past she began her sprint, slowly overtaken by Kirren and Vas while Bason caught up to her, the four of them heading for the right side of the yard. There was no sound of gunfire for what seemed like an age as they dashed across the empty, open street, until the sound of Sharn and Simon's rifle shots from behind let them know that not only were they were being covered, but that the fire fight had begun. It was Kyle, Rathley, Chopper and Jassic who ran for the left. There was the main door to the building and the gory mess left behind by Abigail's grenade, but it also held the most cover in the way of carts, crates and rubble from the destroyed walls and signposts that had surrounded the place. They were either the most effective up-front shooters, or had the means to slaughter men en-mass should the Hearts swarm out too quickly. Abigail was in no fit state for a straight fire fight, and likewise Vas and Kirren worked best when they could attack from a position of strength or secrecy. As such they sprinted for the wall at the far side of their companions, where they could flank without drawing too much open fire. The police station's proximity to the other buildings on that side meant that for anyone to see them they would have to lean bodily out of the windows to look down, and if they did then Bason's shotgun would make them wish they hadn't. More important was the Super Mutant who Kirren said was permanently stationed *behind* the building, out of sight but with easy access to the both the alleyways and street. The plan was that the ruckus caused by Jassic, Rathley and Kyle would draw him that way, and then Abigail's group could attack him from the rear as he went to meet them. The four of them hit the side of the building at full tilt and quickly dodged around into the alley. A rifle shot hit the ground just beside Bason as he puffed his way there, but it was the only one to worry them. The Hearts had yet to start pouring from the building, so there was little worry about being followed, and instead Bason turned his eyes upwards to the two floors of windows above them. "Eyes open girls. Go to the back as soon as you hear Jassic's gun!" He didn't need to tell Kirren, who already had her .223 pistol pointed up, lining up a shot at each window in turn as she advanced. Abigail followed suit, pulling her .357 out and holding it close to her chest. It wasn't as though Kirren and Bason wouldn't get them first if someone did try to spot them, but if it was more than one..? It was quiet for a moment. The sound of loud groans and whimpers echoed around the building from the Heart who bled out deliriously back in the courtyard, and they could hear the hurried footfalls, whoops and cursing that came from inside. No-one emerged from the windows though, and those raiders who did appear from the doorway at the front emerged cautiously as far as Abigail could hear. Maybe Kyle's group had hidden better than they had expected too, if the Hearts weren't firing from the upper floors again. The respite was brief, and a rattle of automatic fire echoed around, followed by the cacophony that was Jassic's automatic shotgun. Abigail dared not think how many people were falling victim to that sound. Chopper and Jassic clearly fired long enough to exhaust their first magazine or drum of ammunition, while Kyle and Rathley carefully picked off their targets while they fled or ducked for cover. "Okay, go, go," Vas hissed, impatient at the two more diligent Mercs. "If they were going to pop out they'd have done it already. We've got a mutant to kill." Easier said than done, Abigail thought, but kept that to herself. Instead she followed her companions to the rear corner of the station and waited for Vas to peer around. "...Holy mother fucking shit. It's huge." Abigail felt her delicate stomach knot. "I told you." More importantly, "Is it going for them?" Kirren asked, in the same hushed, urgent whisper. "Yeah, but it's not in any hurry. And... it's either smarter than you said, or it has orders, because it's going to make this hard for us." Abigail joined Kirren in peeking out, and just as Vas said the Mutant was armed and armoured up, but instead of trudging away to join the battle it dragged a weather-blasted dumpster out and up against the wall, open and facing them at a 90 degree angle to the wall, so that it filled most of the alley. "It's making cover," Kirren said, perturbed. Abigail couldn't see the problem. "So we can use it, right?" "Sure," the punk haired Merc replied, "but either we have to shoot over the whole thing or get inside." Abigail was about to ask why, but looking at it she could see at least some of the problem. The heavy clay wall by the side of the dumpster looked like a stray breeze would knock it over, making it a risky proposition to duck there, and the back of the dumpster was much higher than the front, allowing the lid to lie at an angle when closed. She guessed that would make it harder to shoot over, and even she knew that getting inside the thing made fleeing impossible. "It'll be bad enough if the Hearts realise we're back here already, with that above us." Looking up there was a metal gangway twenty feet up, and another twelve feet above that, which must have made for a useful fire escape or rear exit for the upper two floors. Kirren seemed glad that she had taken note of it. "We want an easy run back here if they decide to use it." "Yeah, I get it." The Super Mutant never did spot them, pre-occupied as he was with his work before turning to join the fire fight at the front. The battle seemed to have calmed down, no longer dominated by rapid fire, and the greenish monster was probably going to rectify that. Then Abigail had a simple idea. "We could get up there." Vas frowned at her, "The gangway? You have a ladder in those pockets?" "We could jump it," Abigail replied, defensive. "From the dumpster. Then *he'd* have to run." "Or he could turn his gun on us and we'd be stuck up there," Kirren pointed out. "But you think you can make it up?" Abigail nodded. As long as the metal wasn't too sharp, and as long as her arms still had strength enough to pull her up, she could make it. "Yeah. I've reached higher bars before." Kirren glanced at the Super Mutant again, thinking fast. "Vas, can you make that?" "What? Are you kidding?" "And I doubt Bason can." The large, bearded man looked back to them quickly, and shook his head. "Two attacks, you think?" Kirren nodded. "Yeah." Then she turned back to Abigail. "The question is, can you pull *me* up once you're there?" Now that Abigail just didn't know. She could try, but if she dropped her... falling back down onto the wall of that dumpster would do more than sprain Kirren's ankles. But there was no time to worry, or even think about it. Their quarry was already retreating. "I can try. I mean, I think I can." "Then that's the plan. Vas, Bason, you take it on from behind, we'll go up. It'll give us a vantage point and, more importantly, another way inside." With that Kirren bolted out from behind the corner, and the rest of them followed. With all the gunfire ahead of them it was easy to sprint behind the dumpster without drawing any attention. "Okay, Abby. Up you go. Bason, if he even twitches our way, put some buckshot into him." Abigail braced against the front wall of the battered skip while Bason hunkered down beside it. As she'd expected it *hurt* to push herself up and bring her feet to its metal lip, but despite her wobbles she got there, and perched for a moment to re-train her balance before carefully, very carefully, standing up. One large step forward over the yawning metal mouth and she was fully exposed should the Super Mutant turn around, but she was a full foot higher on the back of the dumpster. She wobbled again as she looked down, but the other three were not watching. Their eyes were focused firmly on the monster that slowly left them behind. It was at the same time both a relief and a little disappointing. No time for her ego, she thought, and instead took one step back on her thick balance beam. Then came the crouch, low and controlled, with perfect balance this time, and them with an almighty effort she poured every bit of energy she could into her legs, and launched herself upwards. Two handed she might not have made it, but reaching up as high as she could her right hand caught the metal cross beam that made up the walkway's edge, and there she hung. She was breathless, and felt as though she had just been stretched apart on a rack, but successful! "Excellent!" Kirren whispered from the ground. She tucked her pistol securely into her waistband. "Now get up there. Vas, if you aren't going then at least help the cripple climb up there!" Below her Vas did as she was told, guiding the one armed woman unsteadily onto the dumpster edge. With someone else coming after her Abigail put her tiredness and discomfort out of her head, and swung her legs forward so that her arms had enough leverage to curl and pull her up onto the walkway. She lay there for a moment, gasping for breath, swearing silently that she would never touch any kind of stimulants again. She had been an acrobat once, and now look at her! Panting on the deck after a simple pull up. It was pathetic. She rolled over and looked down. Kirren stood precariously on the lip of the dumpster, Vas keeping her upright since she lacked both arms to steady herself, but it was clear that with all the will in the world Kirren couldn't step to the other side and simply reach up. She'd have to come up from there, or not at all. "Kirren! Jump, and give me you hand." Looking up Kirren didn't question her. She just tensed for a moment, and then leaped like a frog on a hotplate. Her arm flailed with far too little direction, but Abigail reached down and caught her wrist with both hands. Kirren's weight pulled her arms taught against the walkway's edge, and the meeting of floor and support gave out an audible clang, but Abigail couldn't worry about that now. Kirren had no second hand to reach up to the edge with, so all Abigail could do was focus on lifting. Bason's shotgun fired, the Super Mutant now aware of their combined gymnastics, but the threat was drowned out as Abigail hauled Kirren up hand over hand until Kirren could grip the edge of the walkway for herself. Abigail's arms burned, but she looked down and shouted over Bason's shots. "Hold on, and I'll pull you up." "Don't make me wait too long," was Kirren's worried reply, but Abigail forced herself to her knees and instantly had Kirren's wrist in her hands again, finally pulling her up onto the metal deck. Thankfully the metal had not been rough edged, and aside from the hurried exertion neither one was worse for wear. "Damn, this was a crazy idea," Kirren said with a smirk as she hauled herself to her knees, and then her feet. But, tired as she must have been already, she drew her pistol from her waistband. "Let's go!" But as she turned to run down the walkway after the Super Mutant, and Abby merely looked from where she sat panting for oxygen, the hulking creature was not advancing on them now, or even readying the minigun that it clutched in its right hand, but instead its arms were up to cover its head, and it was making an elephant's run backwards, away from Bason's shots and into the courtyard. "Damn it!" Kirren spat, instantly levelling her gun down at it and putting a pair of bullets into its tough forearms before the monster retreated out of sight and into the courtyard. "It thinks it's safer out there?" "It might be right," Bason replied from below. "It has nowhere to hide either, without its cover. But we can fight it from two sides now." Then his hand pointed up, behind Abigail and Kirren, to the upper windows. They had been conspicuously absent from the station's first floor, but since the building was a full two floors higher than anything around it the windows from the second and third floor looked out from all sides over the town. "I'd say we start getting stuck in." Bason smiled and gave them both a wink. And why not? They stood a better chance of being able to help inside the place than stuck taking cover in the middle of the gunfire out front. *** Compared to their climb up getting inside was no effort at all. Abigail pulled open the door and stepped through with her gun in hand. A single raider sat at the end of the corridor, evidently having abandoned Abigail's group in favour of taking pot shots at Sharn and Simon on the roof across the street. The man died before he heard Kirren's first footstep. The high velocity bullet pitched him forward on his knees, and his body toppled messily out of the window to bleed on the street below. Abigail grimaced, still trying to rub some feeling back into her arms. "Good shot." "Thanks." The police station was a big building, being that it sat over its own auditorium, and the one corridor on the second floor seemed to wrap around inside the outer wall. Doors to their right led inwards to barracks, storage or planning rooms, while windows to the left looked out over the town, giving those inside a perfect defensive position. Perfect until Kirren appeared in there with them, and turned four shots from her lovingly butchered rifle into three clean kills, with a fourth round just to be sure about the woman at the far end, 150 feet away. She and Abigail paused in anticipation, but none of the doors sprang open to disgorge a new horde of raiders. Either they were all out and fighting already, or Kirren's shots sounded close enough to a rifle's so as not to alert them that anything was wrong. It gave the pair a few precious seconds to advance before the Hearts at the far end saw their slain sister and realised they were under attack from within. The pair ran to the first door and leapt in, Abigail opening while Kirren swept the room with her gun. There was no-one up and armed, so they both ducked inside and out of any line of fire from the corridor. While Kirren reloaded her gun - a feat that she made look simple using only five fingers and her right hip - Abigail noted the figures huddled against the far wall. The room *wasn't* empty, but at the same time it was clear that these six were no raiders. Even so, it was a chance that Abigail couldn't take, and her gun was quickly pointed at them. "Who... who are you?" All five raised their arms, two letting out weak screams as they did, while the woman furthest forward slowly stood up. She was dressed like a townie, though if possible she smelled even worse. "Don't shoot, please. We're not Hearts! Really!" "Pets then?" Kirren asked, already positioned to head back out of the door, but sparing them a sympathetic glance. The woman didn't look happy with the name. "Just get us out of here? Please? That's why you're here, right?" Abigail didn't have the heart to admit that saving any hostages other than Stephanie had never occurred to her. "Yes. That's right. Just... stay here, and we'll come back for you, okay?" Instantly one of the women behind their spokeswoman broke into tears, and the young man next to her tried very hard not to follow suit. Maybe they didn't believe her? "Honestly," Abigail insisted, putting her gun away altogether. "We *will* come back." "Abby," Kirren chivvied, knowing that the Hearts would be bearing down on them by now. The brave woman at the front nodded. "Make sure you kill them at least. We've been here long enough." Abigail nodded before scooting back beside Kirren at the door. The Merc already held the door handle though, and had her ear pressed to the wood. "Grenade, about thirty feet. On three." Abigail's eyes widened, realising that Kirren wanted *her* on the attack this time. She left her pistol in her pocket, and pulled another metal orb from her bandoleer; the second of six. She briefly worried that she couldn't inflict that kind of violence again, not after watching the broken bodies and the blood first time around. "Three..." But only briefly. These people were attacking her. They had all but destroyed this town, killed Erin's father, kidnapped Stephanie, shot Albert, and she didn't want to imagine what they had done to the captives behind her over these last two weeks. The Hearts were going to die, and they deserved everything they got until then! "Two..." Abigail pulled out the pin. "One!" Kirren jerked the door open less than a foot, and Abigail slipped her arm out, tossing the grenade gently and blindly down the hall in the same swift motion. Someone down the hallway opened fire, but Abigail pulled her arm back in without a pause, and Kirren slammed the door shut again. Screams of surprise and fear rang out for a few taut seconds, and someone even got close enough to try the door handle that Kirren held tight, but the explosion put a stop to that. The bang was hard and sturdy, resonating through the brick and clay of the old building just as much as it did through their ears, and Abigail's throw must have been short because the wall at the far corner of the room cracked under the pressure of the blast. Had it not been supported by the adjoining wall it might well have been blasted through, and Abigail hoped no-one in the room next door had suffered for it. Kirren gave it a moment, listening at the door once again before finally opening it. The hallways was a mess of blood, settling clay dust and body parts that had been ripped from their owner. At least one raider had been close enough to be torn wholly apart, and Abigail instantly retched at the sight of loose flesh and intestines. It was clear as well that, while not nearly so affected, Kirren did not look at the mess, and instead focused on the bodies that were still whole. One, face down, who had run past their room in a mad dash for the corner of the corridor, received a bullet, though Abigail didn't know if the man had been alive or not. She staggered past the carnage and the broken, pockmarked walls to gather herself. She had nothing left to throw up now, but it still made her stomach scream. Still, there was no time to waste though. Kyle, Chopper and Rathley were still fighting out front, and they were up against that Super Mutant now. The whining thrum of a minigun outside was unmistakable. She called to the Hearts' prisoners to stay inside and keep the door closed - she didn't want them seeing the mess that had been made of their captors - and she and Kirren marched on. Still no doors opened, and a brief examination revealed more empty bunks and rest rooms, but little else. They did not get to the other end of the building before a new noise made them pause. Somewhere outside, above them, a keening bleep met their ears, followed by an almighty *whoosh*. Kirren instantly looked out of the windows, and Abigail followed suit. A trail of smoke with a rocket at its head flew through the air above them. Abigail felt her pained stomach drop. It crossed the street, weaving slightly as it went, angled downwards and headed straight for the roof opposite. "Sharn!" In same moment that the cry left her lips she could see the two figures on the rooftop rise and flee backwards, but a second later the rocket hit and a vast explosion erupted from behind the lip of the roof. "Oh God," Kirren swore, her voice low and quiet. "Abby, come on, we have to keep going and end this quickly." "Shit!" Abigail swore again and blinked away the tears that flooded her eyes. She took off running down the corridor, her legs burning, Kirren only a step behind her. The Hearts couldn't do this to them! It wasn't right, and Abigail was going to make them pay for it even if it killed her! And she hoped with all her might that Sharn and Simon were still alive. *** Outside, the eruption of smoke from within the station was a welcome sign of progress, turning even the Hearts away from their fighting to see what on Earth had just happened. Few of them had a decent view of the front side as they fought in the east end of the caravan yard, but for Kyle, ducked behind the carcass of an old weather-beaten cart, it signalled a turning of the tide. The Hearts, at first so hesitant to appear from the entrance, had now swarmed out in droves, and he and his companions had not been able to kill them fast enough to stem the flow. Worse was the Super Mutant, burning through ammunition like a flame through its kindling, unable to pick them out behind their cover but at the same time not letting them attack. Vas had managed to join the fight again, shooting from inside the hulk a pre-war car that rested against the back wall, but Bason was still stuck in the rear alley, and the rest of them were too often pinned down behind their flimsy cover. Rathley took the sudden distraction to empty all four shells of buckshot in his gun, blowing away three more stunned raiders in the process, but for the rest of them the boost to morale was enough. Even better was the sight that met Kyle's eyes when he too had emptied his gun and ducked behind his slowly shrinking wooden shield. Across the street charged five more of Erin's people, the second team to have emerged from their sweep of the town to converge on the police station. Hickman ran for what he was worth, led by his point-man Charlie, and three others from the resistance force. Hell, was that *Lyster* of all people, running with his uzi clutched protectively beneath his cloak? Kyle would have guessed that he had fled with the first deserters from the town, slimy coward that he was. Evidently the man deserved more credit than that. There was no time to stop and ponder such things though, and Kyle poked his head back up, his pistols loaded, only to be met with the sight of the smoke trail that lanced out from the station to Sharn's roof. He stared only until the explosive impact, then turned away in that instant, without having fired a shot. There wasn't time to think about it now. No time to think about what had just happened to his lover. No time to imaging what her bloodied, broken body might look like. She was smart. She'd have seen it coming, and she'd have got clear. And if he didn't snap out of this and survive then he'd never find out, and it would be Sharn who'd have outlived *him*. He popped back up and with a cry of rage unloaded both his .44 Magnum and his 14mm in only three seconds. That was another four hearts fewer between him and his girl. As he turned back and knelt to reload yet again that black cloak swirled past him and came to rest by his side. "You cover for me when I reload!" Lyster barked, before taking Kyle's place above the broken edge of the cart and unloading three erratic bursts of lead into anyone he could see. The man flinched every time a shot hit their cover, but he kept firing until his gun emptied itself with a dull metal *thunk*. "Fair enough!" Kyle agreed, standing back up the second that Lyster ducked back again. This time he focused on his 14mm pistol, once again trying to make every shot count. "But I hope you've got ammo, because we're going to start running out!" "Fuuuuuck." It was only thirty second later that the mechanical whoosh sounded again, and every one of the fighters looked up to see the angled silhouette of another Super Mutant, retreating back away from the edge. And this time the rocket he'd fired slammed straight into the courtyard. Men and women on all sides ducked for cover, but for some there was no escape. The cluster of crates it hit, filled with constructions beams and building rails, ruptured like a burst box of matches. The vast lengths of metal were sent rolling and cart-wheeling briefly, turning end over end and churning up the dirt before they came heavily to rest, crushing everything in their path. If he was lucky, Jassic had been killed by the blast, rather than his solid, falsely immovable cover. But there was no time for mourning, or pondering what might have been. Kyle just had to keep shooting until there was no-one willing or able to shoot back, and hope against hope that Sharn was there to meet him afterwards. And that the giant mutant on the roof had a limited supply of rockets, because he doubted any of them would be able to stop him from firing another. *** Abigail and Kirren caught sight of the second rocket impact as they reached the stairs, at the far side of the building from their improvised entrance. The final east facing window gave them a first class view of the gout of fire and crash of falling metal that ended Jassic's life. "Bloody hell!" Kirren exclaimed, reigning in her voice as best she could and pausing briefly to try and gauge how many had died in that blast. Not many by the look of it. "I wouldn't look Abby. That wasn't pretty." Abigail tried to take her advice, but she had already seen enough that the warning was wasted on her. In fact, after wading through the remnants of her own explosives only a minute before Kirren's protectiveness sounded like the worst sort of condescension. "I know, okay?! I know. At least he's wasting them, right?" She had never heard herself sound so bitter before. Not even at Chopper or Rathley. She reached up to hold the next grenade on her bandolier. "If I have to use the rest of these they're taking more than one Heart each." She frowned into the considering stare that Kirren gave her, but the older woman said nothing. Instead she turned to the stairs, one flight going up, the other going down. Strangely the sounds of fighting were louder from *up* the stairs, as the raiders fired from the third floor windows, but down were the sounds of scuffles and arguments, and the repetitious mantras of men and women psyching themselves up for the fight. "Sounds like they've got the rest of their pets downstairs," Kirren whispered. "These ones like using human shields when a fight goes against them. Whole lines of them." That didn't sound good to Abigail in the least. Not only did the idea of the Hearts having more human playthings to begin with, but her body was shot with fatigue and withdrawal pains. She wouldn't be able to hold a gun to aim it if she tried, and she wasn't about to blow up the Heart's victims just to kill their captors. "Then... you go down, and I'll go up. At least you can shoot straight - you won't hit the townies." Kirren didn't hesitate. "Okay. Be careful up there, Abby." And the two separated, Abigail running upwards, and Kirren carefully inching down. *** Contrary to Kirren's words, Abigail wasn't intent on being careful in the least. She had no energy for care, and even before she had reached the third floor hallway a grenade was in her hand and the pin had been pulled. She got far enough to see exactly who was up there: four Hearts, each at a window, evenly spread along the hallway. Two held rifles, while the others had a shotgun and a sub-machine gun respectively. Maybe they were still close enough to the battle, two floors up, that range wasn't the problem that Abigail had expected. Maybe it was all academic as her lobbed grenade hit the clay floor with a *clack* and rolled up to the third raider just in time to blow his leg apart. Abigail couldn't count on her accuracy, so she had let the bomb do that for her. The farthest three would be wounded, if not killed, and if any of them survived it would be her closest target. When she poked her head from the safety of the stairwell she was proved right, at least for the most part. Two torn and broken bodies lay further up the hallway, while the Heart at the far end had been lucky. His legless corpse of a companion had shielded him from the worst of the shrapnel, and he sat dazed against the far wall, fumbling for the gun he had dropped. More urgent was the woman who skidded and slid towards Abigail, her fur and skin shoes slipping in her own blood. A small, neat hole had been punched through her left leg, and thick arterial blood poured over her knee. Another fleck of metal had grazed her temple, blood dripping down her face and into her left eye. She still had her SMG in her hands, and as Abigail reappeared the raider's whimpering babble became a scream. Abigail had planned for the survivor though, and though she doubted her aim with her pistol her throwing arm was not so easily worn down. She hurled one of her knives, and it only had to travel fifteen feet before it sank into the raider's exposed midriff. As threatening as the tribal, chitinous armour looked, it had not been practical enough. The woman's legs gave out instantly and she fell to the floor, her gun falling from her hands. Abigail picked it up. "N-no, please," the raider rasped through bloody lips. "P-please don't kill me." Abigail ignored her for the moment, checked the action on the automatic weapon, and fired a quick burst at the man at the far end of the corridor. He had managed to reach his gun, and was clumsily loading another pair of shotgun shells into it. Firing the sub-machine gun hurt more than Abigail expected it too, even given her sensitive muscles. Each shot jarred more than the last, throwing her already unstable aim off completely. All four of the bullets missed. She fired again, missing again, though it frightened the concussed and injured raider into dropping his weapon again. Her third burst hit, running a line of holes up the man's chest and finally putting him out of his misery. Only now did Abigail look back down at the female raider beside her. The woman's eyes were glazing over, her bleeding leg lying at an angle while she clutched at the knife embedded in her gut, lacking the strength or the will to remove it. It hurt Abigail to realise the only thought that came to her was that it was such a shame. Underneath the blood, dirt and ragged hair, the woman was actually quite pretty. Like a porcelain doll, owned by a spiteful child who refused to care for it. "H-help..." The illusion was broken, and Abigail turned away. The gun could only have a few more bullets in it, but they were a few bullets that might be of use. "No." "I'll do - *urk*... anything." Abigail growled, staggering away. "You've done too much already." The sound of gunfire downstairs let Abigail know that Kirren was well into her own shootout. With this her friends outside should have an easier fight. She still had to find Stephanie though, and stop whoever was firing rockets from the roof. If he had more of them he would be firing another soon enough, which was far too soon. More doors inward passed her by, each one being opened and scanned with her new sub-machine gun before she moved onto the next. They were much smaller rooms; personal residences, small storage rooms, and work rooms, but Abigail left those new ones that led elsewhere for after the battle. She didn't have the time to ransack the building properly, she told herself. All she had to do was take out the immediate threats, and get to the roof. Even Stephanie could wait until afterwards, if need be. Hopefully she would be downstairs, where Kirren could try and ensure her safety. When she reached the third door her hopes were dashed when the door handle flew from her nervous fingers. Two Hearts had been lying in wait, both with their guns - a shotgun and a 10 mil pistol - pointed right at her. Faced with that Abigail did the only thing her body would allow her, and fell backwards, hoping that she had let her legs give way fast enough not to get her head blown off. She had at least been on guard, and fired off the last five rounds that remained in the SMG before she hit the floor. The raiders had been just as quick. The shotgun blast missed her head by millimetres, and she felt the blast on her forehead not because of the lead - at least she hoped it was not the lead - but from the force and heat of the blast. The pistol man had been quicker to adjust his aim, and just as Abigail's bullets caught them both his own 10 mil round slammed into her left shoulder, piercing through her leather jacket and her vault suit to embed itself in her collar bone, fracturing it instantly. The pain was incredible, but amazingly the aches in the rest of her body swelled to greet it. Perversely, though it pulled a cry of agony from her throat and tears from her eyes, it felt like it *could* be worse. There was no follow up. Abigail lay there, clutching the wound only four inches from her windpipe, hoping she could react in time if one of those sneaky bastard got up to finish her off. They didn't. Nor did any more doors open to greet the new quiet. Now that was a miracle. Maybe she was jinxed, but if so then Lady Luck was willing to take care for her as compensation. Maybe she had been all along. She rolled onto her front, stifling a scream as the bones in her shoulder shifted, and forced herself back to her unsteady feet. The bandolier over that shoulder was agonising, so it was discarded as fast as she could without dropping the three remaining grenades. She left the empty SMG behind and shifted her .357 Magnum into the waistband of her leathers. As uncomfortable as it was the 10 mil holster at her other hip wouldn't carry it, and she needed the pocket for one of the remaining grenades. She still had rooms to search, and the roof to clear. An explosion sounded from outside, followed by a louder secondary blast. The first was another rocket, probably, but the second she knew well, even though she had never heard it in real life before. It was the sound of a fusion bottle failing, and releasing its miniature nuclear bomb on to the battlefield. The rocket must have destroyed that defunct car in the yard, and its fusion cell had still been live. Such blasts were only lethal at very close range, but it was certainly a larger blast than the rocket. Someone had just died, surely. Hopefully not too many someones. Now she took only as much time as she felt she could spare, but she had to keep going, throwing open each door before putting herself in the doorway in case of another ambush, but for two more doors she was met with nothing. A bedroom, probably the late Mr Golway's, and a small store cupboard. The third door however, greeted her not with bullets, but with words. "Come on in, little rat. No point dancing around if you've made it up here. Show yourself or I blow dear little Stephanie's brains out. Three... Two... one-" Shit, shit, SHIT! Abigail had no plan, no time, and no energy to think. Stephanie was here? Now?! She stepped into the doorway, her right hand on her revolver, half-drawn. It was just one man, standing in the middle of a small dining room, the tables and chairs all over turned. In front of him stood Stephanie, held in place and covered only by a sheet, the man's pistol resting against her forehead. "I'll be. I've heard about a girl who dresses like you," Jackhammer said, by way of greeting. He was sweating, but otherwise not in the least nervous. "You put our *first* Super Mutant friend in the ground, right? Looks like blowing through my gang has taken its toll on you though. Boys?" What the hell was she going to do now? From the room adjacent two more Hearts appeared, each with a pistol in hand. "I'm going to kill you," Abigail whispered. She didn't know quite what else to do. If there was anything Rathley had managed to teach her it was that when you're in doubt, convince the other side that you already know how you'll win. "So give her her clothes back." Of course, they didn't believe a word of it. This was three on one against a short, skinny, wounded girl. Stephanie, however, had been given *plenty* of time to think. She certainly hadn't expected just *one* person to come to her rescue, let alone a girl he remembered as a lucky, rather reckless combat novice, but it was *someone* whose reputation preceded her, and that was more than enough. "You can laugh," Steph said, cutting through Jackhammer's amused bravado, "but you didn't see what she did to the last *Jack-Ass* who crossed her." Jackhammer frowned at her, leaning in to growl into her ear and pushing the gun harder into her temple. "I hope you're not comparing me to that Diamond *runt*, Stephie dear." Naturally, both his bodyguards laughed at the apparently ludicrous, petty comparison, all too eager to speak up for their boss. They forgot, just for a moment, how heavily armed the girl in black leathers in front of them must have been. It took Abigail all of that moment to realise what Stephanie had done for her, and just what the captive woman was ready for her to do in that opening. Her left hand wrapped around the grip of the 10 mil pistol in its holster, her whole side burning as she pulled it free, and at the same time her right pulled back from her .357 and instead went for her pocket, and the grenade that sat there. It all began when Jackhammer's grip loosened on Stephanie's bound hands again, and the gunsmith rammed her head backwards with all her might, cracking it against Jackhammer's jaw and making the man reel for a moment. She knew he had little real intent to kill her - he had been saving that for the meeting with Erin - so she gambled that the gun at her head would not go off. She was right. Jackhammer recovered quickly and merely kicked the backs of her legs, the gun she had made for him instantly levelling at Abigail instead. "Kill her already!" the enraged gang leader barked, furious that the two men he'd brought to ensure his safety had been so slow to fire on their intruder when he had been hit. Their guns *were* raised, but Abigail had been given the few seconds she needed, and left handed had fired the 10 mil pistol from her hip. Each shot made her arm scream and her vision swim, but knowing that her aim would be so poor she simply did not bother, and made up for it with her rate of fire. At least one of the recklessly fired armour piercing rounds flew right through the raider's reinforced leather chest plate, but Abigail's concentration was focused not on him, but his partner who flanked Jackhammer. With her good hand she'd torn the pin from its hole with the grenade still in her pocket, and now she lobbed the bomb hard into the Heart's face. Jackhammer stared in disbelief as the explosive smashed into his bodyguard's nose, throwing off the man's aim yet again. "You crazy bitch!" Abigail's only response was to reach for Stephanie as she tried to make a break for it, throwing her still loaded gun at Jackhammer just to fluster him further. She couldn't fire it; she'd lost the feeling of anything but pain in her entire left arm, and she didn't even know if her finger would still squeeze the trigger. "Wha.." The Hearts' leader fended off the limply thrown weapon with his own, but after seeing both him men neutralised simultaneously his grip had faltered, and Stephanie had already wrestled free. Abigail and Stephanie careered out into the hallway, and it sounded as though Jackhammer was following for a second before the explosion filled the room behind them and peppered the wall with shrapnel. Abigail came to a slow halt, and then with determination she turned on her heels and stalked back to the dining room. This time there was a knife in her hand, but the grenade had done its job. Jackhammer lay crumpled against the door frame, his back a mess of burns and bloody pock-marks, while the two bodyguards were similarly sprawled across the room. Abigail was glad to see that the searing pain in her shoulder hadn't been in vain. Along with the blast damage she could see that at least two of her armour piercing bullets had found their man, and hit him somewhere in the trunk. Had they not, Stephanie would have needed to escape without her. "Abigail?" Stephanie called. "God, are you alright?! You've been shot!" Abigail nodded, recognition of that fact bringing back the nausea that she'd felt so often today. "Yeah. I-I'm okay, I think. Are y-you okay?" She didn't wait for an answer. Her muddy brain was having trouble focusing, and there were more urgent things to deal with. "We've got to get the one on the roof." With that she carried on down the corridor as fast as her burning legs would carry her, ignoring the few remaining doors. She only had the energy left for one more fight, and that had to be the rocket man. If she stopped for more empty rooms or a last raider ambush she knew she wouldn't have anything left to climb the flight of stairs at the end. "Abigail, wait!" *** The wind was surprisingly strong as Abigail emerged into the sunlight. The first thing she saw was the town, in its entirety, laid out before her. That was so incredibly inspiring, so breathtaking a sight, that she forgot about her pains and fatigue for one brief moment. The sounds of gunfire had died down somewhat. Either she was too far away or too run down to hear them, or Kirren had succeeded downstairs and, with the raiders caught from outside and within, the fight might be drawing to a close. She didn't consider the fact that the raiders might be winning, and leaving her few remaining companions little room to fight back. They were going to win because they deserved to win, and damn it; she didn't go through all this and end up getting shot just to have all her friends die without her! Hoping that the element of surprise was on her side she cast her eyes across the roof, but even tired as she was she could not have missed her target. He was the only shooter, and while she had half expected it, he was the last thing Abigail had wanted to see. "You things again," Abigail hissed out, but she issued no challenge or warning. Instead she pulled her .357 from her waistband and advanced. The monster was still pre-occupied with his rocket launcher, and her arm would not remain steady enough at that distance. Behind her the wind slammed the metal door shut, and the Super Mutant looked up from his loading. "Eh? You're no Heart. I don' know you." He stood slowly, still putting the rocket into his weapon. That was one mercy, at least. He didn't have time to finish loading it. He didn't have time to get to his feet either. Abigail aimed as best she could, still forty feet from the hulking mutant, and fired. The magnum round wrenched at her wrist, but he was a big target and the bullet sank deep into the left side of his chest. Two more rounds went wide, the pain in her hand and the recoil from even the lighter .38 special cartridges throwing off her already shaky aim, but as she advanced shots four and five both hit home in its stomach. That was enough to hunch the Super Mutant over, now simply struggling not to drop its weapon instead of finishing loading. However, it was also enough to make Abigail's grip falter after firing the gun one handed, her left hand hanging painfully from her abused shoulder. The gun clattered to the floor, one bullet left unfired. She still had her four remaining knives though, and she wouldn't let herself stop until they were gone. She pulled them from her pocket one by one, and in turn hurled them with everything she had left. Behind her the metal door to the roof clanged again, and Stephanie called her name, but Abigail was too invested in her attack to hear. One blade sank into the Mutant's trunk, while another sliced past its left arm, finally forcing it to drop the rocket clumsily onto the roof. "Argh! Stupid pest human!" With one almighty swing the Super Mutant threw the useless rocket launcher at her, forcing her to duck away. It caught her left ankle as it hit the floor, spinning her around, but once it was past her she could still stand. It hadn't broken anything. She threw the last knife that she could afford to give, and it struck the monster square in the chest. "Fall over already!" Abigail screamed, exhaustion and frustration finally getting the better of her. She only had one knife left. She doubted she could throw it and finish him in one shot. It was too much of a gamble. Likewise, she was too tired to try and finish it face to face. The creature would crush her flat before she even got close enough to swing. Maybe, if she charged and focused on getting inside its reach without worrying about attacking, she might be able to topple it off the edge. "ABIGAIL! MANNY! STOP ALREADY!" Abigail's step faltered. "M-Manny?" Abigail heard Stephanie run over, still wearing no more than a sheet, but now carrying a shotgun in her hands, scavenged from one of the dead raiders. "You'll give up now, right Manny?" The Super Mutant stood breathing heavily, before looking down at its wounds. "They done shooting, huh?" Stephanie nodded. "And Jackhammer's dead. Abigail here killed him. You've lost." The Super Mutant 'Manny' made a disgusted face, and pulled Abigail's knives from his sternum and stomach. "Ugh. You humans are all bad as each other. And Illas is dead down there. And I got holes in me now. You got holes in you too, black girl. Wasn' worth it." "YES IT WAS!" Abigail screamed back at him, not knowing whether to be furious or overjoyed "We... we won! We won, right?" "I think so," Stephanie replied. "I saw Rathley walking around bold as brass down there when I grabbed this. Come on, Abby. Let's sit you down and find a doctor." Abigail had other priorities though. "Sharn! She's needs help!" With Stephanie's assistance Abigail staggered to the edge of the roof to look down at the building the Mutant named Manny had shot a rocket into. The blast had collapsed a large part of the roof, and two figures - Sharn and Simon - lay sprawled on what remained of it. It was easy to identify Sharn by her huge mane of hair though, stirring at least slightly as someone tried to revive her. Abigail let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Oh, thank you so much." Quite who she was thanking she wasn't sure, but they certainly deserved it. She raised her good arm as a last show of exhausted triumph, and below her several people, both late comers to the battle and the lucky survivors, mirrored it. That was right, they'd had reinforcements come too. Hopefully that meant not too many of her friends died after all. Though she wanted to try and see who she could recognise standing safely down there she let Stephanie ease her to the floor, propped up against the raised edge of the roof. "Uhhh, I think I need to close my eyes, Steph." "Sure. Thanks for coming to get me." "You're welcome." Then Abigail realised who else was up there. "What about... the mutant? It... it'll kill us." "No it won't. I promise. Just get some sleep. I'll make sure he doesn't hurt you." Abigail didn't believe it, but she was too tired to argue, or do anything but shut her watery eyes. "I really hope you're right..." *** Abigail was asleep almost instantly, and after wrapping up her shoulder Stephanie sat down next to her to give her something more comfortable to lean against, putting herself between her saviour and the Super Mutant that the girl feared so much. "Would you have shot me?" Manny asked, slowly plodding over, trying not to aggravate his own injuries. "Yes, I would. I nearly did when you threw that launcher at her." "Ugh. She attacked me first. I'm gonna need medicine too, after she put holes in me. Why'd you stop her, anyway? You don' think they'll kill me? I killed enough of them." "I didn't want *you* to kill *her* either. If Erin decides to kill you after this then that's the end of it. I told you not to fight." Manny sighed heavily. "Thought he'd win. Ugh, we should'a listened to Marcus. Would've been better to go with him, 'stead of picking fights with humans over food. Stupid vault person." Stephanie looked at him in surprise. "Oh? You've met Abigail's type before?" "Eh? She's a vault person?" He sighed again, more exhausted. "They're trouble. All of them. Feh." He lay back against the raised edge as well. "I'm gonna sleep too. Being shot full of holes makes me sleepy." *** To be concluded... *** Please send any comments and constructive criticism to: nutzoide@nutzoide.net They are always greatly appreciated, and there is no better reward for a writer than to hear back from the readers. Many thanks to Richard King for his proofreading assistance. (c) Nutzoide 2010 http://www.nutzoide.net