John laid out his plan with rocks in the dirt, as he’d been trained, then Billy set the stolen egg in place and took cover alone. Nothing but the wind moved.

A pair of nearly synchronised shots rang out and John stomped from cover, heavy machine gun gripped tight. Through the slit of the helmet he saw something moving, and far from what he expected.

About five foot tall, beige hide with a diamond texture, bleeding from wounds in the belly. The beast thrashed and stumbled as it tried to limp away from the power armour that loomed over it, before turning onto its hunched back and giving up. John hit the button on the simple control grips in his hand and the helmet locking pins retreated enough for it to drop off. It clanged to the ground as John looked down at the dying creature before him.

A fanged mouth set in a snub snout, nub horns, gold eyes with vertical pupils. The claws were sharp and long, grown from muscular arms, and powerful legs, shaped like a dog’s. Certainly a threat, yet not worth the reaction from JoJo.

“I thought it’d be taller.” John smiled as a relieved Billy and Jolene approached. The creature's breathing slowed.

“Hawkins was drunk, must’ve got the drop on him.” Billy stepped closer, ready to put the creature down. It let out a high pitched screaming death rattle, cut short by a burst of automatic fire. As the last shot rang out, a response came to the scream. A guttural, booming growl rolled in on the wind. Vengeful, angry, and close.

“Shit. Carol’s running, get after her.” Jolene translated the signals from her partner who lay prone on the billboard. John slipped out of the armour, leaving the heavy machine gun in its motionless hands.

Through the now living trees that marked the edge of the marshes' influence, John saw Mitch ahead. Trying to shout Carol without making too much noise. John took a different line to the others, moving low and fast. He picked up small bootprints in the shallow mud, panicked, uneven paces. John turned back to shout Mitch, then he saw it.

Everything John had seen since leaving the Vault looked out of place somehow. The buildings, the machines, and even the people were all adapted to live in this world. But not the ten foot tall beast before him. The full grown Deathclaw loped on its muscled haunches and extended arms, stopping and sniffing the air with wide nostrils set in a snout. Its teeth were like kitchen knives, its eyes the colour of burning embers, and thick horns curved forward over its head.

Before even John could react the tough black hide moved in near silence. He watched in horror as it leapt, arms thrown out wide then pushed into Mitch’s chest. The long claws pierced through his torso lived up to their name as Mitch died in seconds. The beast lifted him on its claws, and with a single bite, devoured Mitch’s head, tossing the body aside.

John made himself small, working his way into the mud with slow movements. The beast turned and began to lope away, its head bobbing and movement steadied by a thick, spiny tail. He heard whimpering from behind him and saw Carol, her fear escaping like the contents of a smashed jar.

John tried to attract her attention, desperate to get focus on him and not Mitch’s broken and decapitated body. In the distance John heard a muffled plunk, a sound he’d heard once before, and his own panic escaped.

The nightmare, dreamlike state had been absent for so long. Now it raced out as John bounded towards Carol. His footprints left their own crown like wakes in the mud and slowed time. John knew he must be moving fast, and that meant a tap would be like a punch.

Change of momentum, John thought, stopping behind Carol. He looked at the beast, its head turning to the whistling in the air. John hoped for some kind of assistance from the device he hated, the device as much a part of him as the arm it sat on. The jet black pipboy offered only a single word. *ERROR.*

John reached his arms around Carol and lifted her as if she were made of glass. He walked towards the armour trying not to hurt her, then the grenade round burst in the air. Time snapped back as John couldn’t hold Carol or his pace even a fraction of second longer. Carol yelped as John stumbled to his knees. Two more air burst rounds went off in rapid succession, driving the beast off, for the moment at least.

“Thank fuck you’re alright.” Billy helped Carol up, her expression vacant. Billy reached out an arm for John, he didn’t take it.

“Mitch…” John didn’t want to say the words in front of Carol

“I saw. I’m sorry John. I never thought…” Billy had lost two friends already, now he knew what he’d brought down on the rest of them.

“We need to move. Take her.” John moved double time to the armour, and hoped the fifty cal rounds would hurt the Deathclaw.

“Help me with this.” John nodded to the chain on the ground.

“Forget the truck.” Billy didn’t seem to care for riches any more.

“No, it’s solid cover and we might need it.” John set his mind to the task at hand. “JoJo, ammo check.” John shouted as he started pulling the truck.

“Two mags a piece for the rifles, two hundred plus for the mg, and three boxes for the fifty.” Joanne answered in an efficient way. John found comfort in having trained people with him.

“Reckon we can rig something with that Quantum.” Billy added.

“There’s explosives in my pack, break down some of the buckshot for the powder. And give Carol something to do.” John hoped focusing on a simple task would bring her round.

Billy worked the brakes while Carol broke down rounds in the passenger seat. JoJo cut away part of the old canvas and created a makeshift gun nest from crates in the middle of the truck, then set up the minigun. All while John stomped forward, helmet on and heavy machine ready.

The marshes stretched out, preventing them from crossing. John knew the only chance they had would be the fifty cal, which meant staying in the armour and dragging the truck for cover.

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John forced himself to focus on details, unable to think about anything other than the beast he’d seen. Claws and talons, thick hide with spines along the back. It’s skin beige on the belly and black everywhere else. Camouflage, he thought, seeing the black tree trunks and darkening shadows. A single phrase kept repeating in his mind, something he’d read in his book about animals. A term used for sharks, tigers, and crocodiles. Apex predator, he thought, top of the food chain.

A sharp whistle brought John to a stop. “This is the crossing.” Joanne held the map up for him, forced to rely on drawing like everyone else. The muddy marshes had receded, leaving a stagnant lake of fetid water. A huge ship sat on the bank, marooned and listing, steel containers stacked high. A pile of fallen ones cresting out of the deep water.

In a feat of wastrel engineering, containers had been stacked three wide and deep enough to stand a foot out of the rancid water. “You sure about this?” Joanne asked as John walked in the armour.

“It’s the best option, puts distance between us, gets us back on the road.” John wanted to ask if she had a better idea, but didn’t, knowing his confidence would spread. He’d found himself in charge, and knew how a good leader should act.

Power armoured steps clunked on steel filled with water, sending ripples out as John dragged the truck across the lake. The sun seemed to vanish before they made it halfway across. No one saw the dorsal spines carve a serpentine wake through the water. The Deathclaw burst from the inky black. Massive hind legs propelled it up, out, arcing over them.

Jolene gripped the trigger tight at hearing the splash and minigun ripped, then fell silent. The well named claws caught Jolene in her chest, tearing through her arm, shoulder, and throat. The force span and threw her into the water as the beast dove under and vanished.

Billy hurled two fizzing jars of gunpowder, explosives and Quantum. The glowing liquid streaking through the dark before shattering into a clouds of blue flame that set the water alight. John stepped into a turn and fired, the kick from the heavy weapon shaking the armour as it thundered rounds into the water.

He stopped and the sounds of screaming filled the air. Billy had to restrain Joanne to stop her diving into the burning water to find her other half. With no other choice, John started walking again.

Silence returned as they left the bridge, only punctuated by the stomp of power armour. After an hour of walking along a flat blacktop lined with trees, John heard a whistle and came to a stop. Joanne took the helmet off for him.

John saw the look in her eyes and knew it from his last encounter with something that had been dismissed as crazy raider stories. The hazel eyes burned with rage, her partner's blood sprayed across her body. “Jo…” John trailed off, knowing nothing as useless as words would help.

“Ditch the truck. Billy will take point, I’ll carry the mg, Carol will take the explosives. We’re gonna get this thing and turn it into boots.” Joanne started to head back towards the lake.

“Stand down Ranger.” John gave an order, hoping her training would keep her focused, just like his was.

“The fuck did you just say to me?!” Joanne dropped her gear and started to square off against the armour.

“You heard.” John waited to see what she would do. He saw the rage kept all other feelings at bay, and knew they’d all need that to survive. “Carol isn’t dying out here. You and I are getting her safe. Protect the innocent Ranger.” John watched as the words she'd told him took hold. “When she’s safe, we’re going to get my Vertibird and hunt this fucker from the air. I’ll fly, you shoot, deal?” John had to give her a path to the vengeance she deserved.

“Deal.” Joanne put her rage into check, knowing that air support would make the hunt easier. “Then we’re gonna kill that fat fuck Sal.” Joanne’s rage wasn’t limited to the beast. “And you.” She glared at Billy, both still covered in blood. “When they’re dead you’re next.”

“Deal.” Billy didn’t flinch, he simply reloaded his rifle and took point. John wouldn’t let it come to that, but thought Billy deserved to to think it might.

John set a quick pace. Carol hadn’t spoken in hours, Joanne struggled with the minigun, but her rage and determination kept her sharp.

“Water.” John half yelled, getting Joanne to take it off the helmet and hold the tube for him. “How many more bombs we got?”

“Two.” Joanne answered, gently taking the bag from the vacant Carol, and talking John through the components.

“Mix them in the jar and tape the lid. Liquid reacts with the powder charge, sets of the explosives from the collar, and that ignites the Quantum. It’s strong stuff.”

“Yeah.” John knew why she’d shown him, as did Joanne. Neither acknowledged it was because Joanne might die first.

“Cover me, I need to piss.” She put John’s helmet back on for him, and as Joanne walked off the road John came to horrifying realisation.

“Jo! It’s the Quantum, that’s what it’s tracking, that’s whe—” A cracking burst of fire cut John’s words off as Billy darted towards them. The Deathclaw loped on all fours behind him, playing with its food.

Joanne scrambled onto the truck, spooled the minigun up and aimed right at the beast. A stream of lead ripped through the dark and tore chunks from the thick hide. The beast yelped and turned to retreat when the gun ran dry. Billy hurled a bright bomb that shattered on the ground and caught the beast with blue flame. A primal panic gripped it as Joanne grabbed her rifle and started shooting, advancing without fear. John sidestepped and unleashed the high velocity, half inch lead projectiles. He walked them onto his fleeing target as the predator found itself retreating.

The beast scuttled beyond the blue flames as John shouted for a reload. Joanne had run out of everything but revolver ammo that she fired into the dark. She turned with a look of rage and started to run back for more ammo. And from the shadows, the wounded Deathclaw took her, without a sound or trace left. John fired again, hoping more than aiming.

“Carol!” John yelled and stomped to get her attention. “Drop the pack and run, head west then north, find Lady Luck. GO!” She ran, the fear pushing her.

“Last box.” Billy banged twice on John’s back. “I’m going for Jo. Get out of here John.” Billy ran for where he lost sight of Jo.

“Stop!” John shouted through the armour, but Billy ignored him, desperate not to have lost another friend.

John paced his firing, short bursts to keep the beast at bay, trying to buy time for Billy. He stopped when he knew he had half a box left and things went silent. The flames burned out and John turned on the helmet lamp, which became the only source of light. Light where there is darkness, John thought, shutting down his fear and thinking.

Billy appeared in the light, covered in blood and running at the armour. Behind him the Deathclaw saw the light and went for it. Billy dove as he felt the beast at his heels, and for a moment, thought himself safe. Until the thick tail lashed at him, and struck his chest.

The Deathclaw threw its arms wide as it drew within reach of the armour. Claws pierced steel and strong muscles lifted the power armour up to opening jaws, lined with dagger like fangs. And then John fired. He’d slipped from the armour after switching on the light, taping the last of the improvised explosive to the back of the helmet.

The bullet from the rose carved pistol struck the Quantum bottle, spilling the liquid onto the gunpowder and explosives from a slave collar. Whatever animal instinct and cunning that hid behind the ember eyes of the Deathclaw didn’t understand as its jaws tore into steel and not flesh. Then the chemical reaction started.

John walked out so the beast could see him. It started to growl and posture, then it stumbled and thrashed, clawing at its own soft belly in panic. Blue flame escaped the wounds, just before its stomach exploded in a ball of blue and red. The Deathclaw slumped forward and hit the ground with a thud.

“Billy!” John darted over to Billy and saw he didn’t have long. The spined tail had eviscerated him.

“John, get out of here.” Billy spat the blood from his mouth as John knelt and took his hand.

“I got it Billy, it’s dead.” John saw that register with him.

“I’m sorry John, get Carol.” Billy half laughed, then winced. “You did good, I did the same thing once. Roxy, you tell...I love her.” Billy’s grip slipped from John’s hand as the life left his eyes. John wanted to scream, yet knew he had a responsibility to the girl he’d saved and dragged into this horror.

“Carol! It’s John, it’s safe. Carol!” John ran for a few minutes shouting and looking for the red hair that caught his eye in the first place.

“John?” A voice shouted back as she peeked from round a tree. “Is anyone else…”

“They didn’t make it, but I killed it.” John took a deep breath and held his own grief back. “You can keep going if you want, take this.” John offered her his rifle and she recoiled from it.

“What about you?” She asked, afraid but alert.

“I need to do what I can for Billy and Jo.” John thought about one of the last things Joanne said. “Then I’m going to kill that fat fuck Sal, but I’ll need your help to it.”

Miles from where they were, the forgotten bone white egg shifted and toppled over. Needle like claws punched through, cracking the shell enough for something to slither free. The foot and a half long, newly hatched Deathclaw took its first breath. It let out a high pitched whine, then began to feed on its dead sibling. As it gorged on tough flesh the ground began to shake. A claw larger than the infant reached down and it scurried up the maternal arm.