I stood proudly at the entrance of a newly commissioned pre-war mine as I oversaw the usual operations. It consisted of mine carts being dragged by steam engines and then dropping off its contents into a conveyor belt, where it is automatically unloaded into a wooden caravan.
A lot of progress has been made. The hidden engineers in my group have shined and greatly distinguished themselves. Competence and results had to be rewarded. “So, your name is Charles Gannon?” I squinted at his records compiled at the beginning of our journey, way back in Shady Sands.
“That’s right, sir – I mean Mister Frederik.” The man looked a few years older than Ed and Aaron but his hair! It was whiter and blonder than Ed's, and Ed's hair was almost too white.
I also noticed one minute, but important, detail that I suspected. He referred to me as a 'sir' and tensed his right shoulder as if he was about to give a salute. It was an obvious sign that he was former military which should’ve been flagged up during the vetting process.
Mercenaries often didn't salute one another because most were self-employed and not disciplined enough to address other people as ‘sir’. Pappa certainly didn’t and only had to when convincing the quartermaster to purchase our grain and food.
Connecting the dots was way easier with time slowing down to a crawl. His military record should've been in his resume but it wasn't. His first record was when he was a mechanical engineer working for a mining company based in Redding in 2243.
My suspicion grew and I decided to take a direct and blunt approach. “Mister Gannon, actually, let’s be less formal, shall we?” I beamed him a smile when he nodded and I felt satisfied when that lowered his guard. “Charles, what’s your opinion on the Enclave?”
My pupil constricted, hearing finely tuned in as I lasered my focus on his body. Predictably, he froze, his heart beating louder than the dynamites being ignited in the background. “S-sir?”
“Don’t play stupid with me, Charles. I’m simply very inquisitive. Please, humour my curiosity.”
I saw him grit his teeth but finally, he unclenched his jaw and said, “I still think the Enclave is- was the best chance of rebuilding America.” He then gave Frank a weary look expecting something.
“The NCR is now the best country for that. It is also a free country with free speech. I can assure you; that I'll do my best to uphold that and anything you say will be protected. Rest free, my bodyguard won't harm you."
“Then why am I here?”
“I’m going to give you a promotion to a foreman. I’m going to assign you to a mine north of here, which is on the border against the Fredonians. Your competency in leading the team and repairing those machinery, makes me think that you’ll be a good fit in a position of leadership. And, can I assume you served in the Enclave Armed Forces?”
He calmed his breathing. “Yes, sir. You would be correct.”
“Excellent. You have a week to assemble your miners and your security will be provided to you by Lieutenant Simmons. I’ll also have a few of Joshua’s militia augment your mine. Your experience as a soldier will be valuable just in case the Fredonians attack you.”
“Sir, I haven’t accepted.”
I frowned. "You would reject a promotion where you'll be paid a hefty fifty per cent more?" Hopefully, the pay rise was enough to persuade him to accept.
"Respectfully, I don't see any value in hoarding worthless pieces of paper considering I don't intend to go back to the NCR."
“That’s where you are wrong. The NCR will eventually claim this territory as theirs. President Tandi and her successor Joanna Tibbett, have assured me.” Vice President Tibbett along with the rest of the Cabinet was enthusiastic and downright gleeful of the NCR expanding her borders. It stands to reason the entire political establishment will support expansion and I positioned myself to reap the benefits of such an action.
“I-is that the reason why we’re here, Mister Frederik?” He widened his eyes in complete disbelief. The scope and sheer will of the NCR’s ambitions to expand was insatiable. Rightfully so, since the country is experiencing a baby boom. Soon there won’t be enough room to house that many people.
“Of course. Like I said, the New Californian Republic is committed to rebuilding America. Heck! Dare I say, we’re the successors to the United States of America!”
I was slightly disappointed when I saw him recoil in disgust. “Whatever you say, sir," he said non-committedly “Before I accept your generous offer, I need a few more information.”
I gestured for him to continue and said, “Shoot.”
“What would I be mining?”
That’s a good question to ask and something I couldn’t answer without pulling a paper copy of the Bureau of Land Management assessment of the Grand Canyon. “North of here should have a variety of copper, iron and most importantly bauxite.”
Bauxite was quite uncommon in America and had to be imported abroad. However, due to the hostilities coming from China and the sanctions imposed by Australia to punish pre-war America for annexing Canada, bauxite imports became expensive and unsustainable. And with the growing demand for aluminium to make airships only made it more crucial to source as much bauxite as possible.
Hence the Bureau of Land Management conducted a mineral survey and found a few substantial veins in Arkansas, Alabama and Georgia and surprisingly the Grand Canyon.
Pressure from environmental groups and National Park Rangers meant not a single open-cast mines were opened in the Grand Canyon. Until now, that is.
Charles Gannon’s face crunched up as he noticed the burden of leadership that I was offloading to him. “We neither have the manpower and machinery to mine bauxite! Open mines are notoriously hard to do.”
“That’s why you are your team will start small. I don’t really need that much aluminium as of now, so start with mining the obvious surface veins first.”
“You do realise that you’re asking for too much. You want us to look for bauxite which, I remind you is a reddish colour and the Grand Canyon is mostly red!”
I smiled and clasped my hands together, "Correct. That's what I ask of you and the competent people you’ll lead and manage.” I realised my demands were a little too high but my expectations balanced it out.
“Fine. Good soldiers follow orders and I’ll do my best. All I ask is for a house. My wife will be coming over in the second expedition which should be in two months from now.”
“Of course. Everyone will have a house of their own.” Though I doubted they'd be here in two months. The second expedition was supposed to be a trial one that used sledges to brave through winter snow. It'll delay them a bit which should give me time to build a lot of houses that are insulated against the cold.
I was careful not to air that to Charles and it was fortunate since that placated him. He grunted and exited my coach.
“Should I ‘ave my lass watch him, Leon?” Frank asked. “I’m not too comfortable havin’ an Enclave sympathiser being head of a mine.”
“Of course. You have my permission. I’ll also order the Rangers to report back to me and Simmons about him. But you realise I have to reward competence to motivate my workers.”
My bodyguard hummed his approval and went back to poking his head out of the window to smoke his cigar.
Just to the side, I saw a few windmills standing out in the distance with a few more being erected. I got out with Frank in tow. The harvest was in full steam ahead as I saw dozens of former slaves working back and forth with smiles on their faces.
Cooks were preparing the dough and passing it to one of dozens of ovens.
The ovens worked and belched out smoke, producing hundreds of breads a day. A good few were wrapped and preserved in tin cans to be sent to the Kaibabs.
A lot of progress was made. The former slaves now considered themselves to be NCR citizens. I’m glad I was making a positive impact this far out from NCR proper.
“I’ve just promoted one of the miners as a foreman. Now I just need to pick one to be an overseer for the farmers.” I grabbed my chin then started to hum. “I needed to compile a dossier to monitor people’s performance,” I cringed when I said that. More work for me.
“Don’t ya look at me, kid. I’m just your bodyguard.” A tad disingenuous of him to say that since he was my de facto spymaster.
And another headache was coming up since one of the copper mines was starting to run out and the metal detectors weren't picking up any copper signals for dozens of metres in all directions.
It should've been an easy fix by finding another mine but the nearest and most accessible was a mine that was full of curses, ill omens and monsters.
When I suggested to have me and my troopers clear that cave, I was nearly faced with a full-blown Ridger rebellion. Only Ridgedog’s and Lady Chaz’s persuasion and firm backing of the NCR that the simmering tension was released.
Infuriating as it is, I had way too many things going on four months ago. But now that a third of my miners risked being unemployed, this problem that I’ve kicked down the road has now resurfaced; far bigger and far insurmountable than before.
There was a saying about giving someone a hand and they'll take the entire arm along with the shoulder. It mirrored the situation I was in. I showed weakness by acquiescing to the Ridgers and believing in their nonsense superstitions.
Even if it wasn’t mere superstitions, the treasure trove of knowledge that the vault could provide was just too much.
“Eh... Leon, why ‘ave you started to salivate?”
Oops. I quickly wiped the side of my mouth. “Nothing. Just thinking of opening a new mine.”
Frank froze as he cradled his magnum. “Finally! You’re starting to take action on what should ‘ave been done a few months ago.”
"You know damn well what the situation was four months ago. We were building houses, aqueducts, irrigation canals, planting wheat, setting up iron and copper mines and smelting those iron and copper ores! I was busy!” I couldn’t help argue.
“And you should ‘ave delegated. Leave the eggheads to do egghead things and focus on your responsibility as a leader.” Frank paused as he rudely placed his fingers over my mouth which smothered my desire to fire back and argue with him. “Listen. We could ‘ave still done all that but you’ve underutilised Simmon’s and Graham’s forces.”
"Do you think they'll gladly point out pre-war mines to us if we've held them at gunpoint that early on in our relationship?" I figured a diplomatic approach would be the most productive. Fewer feathers ruffled and pulled often generated better results.
“Suppose not but we’d eventually find them without their help. I’d say in about a month.”
“As opposed to a first day of them leading our prospectors and miners to two mine shafts?”
“It’s better than kicking this trouble down the road. Now you're stuck in a pickle.”
I palmed my face. And what a pickle it was. “Trooper Delarosa! Bring me Doctor Calhoun, Lieutenant Simmons and Joshua Graham over to my coach.” I yelled for the nearest trooper next to me and stomped angrily towards my coach.
My frustration about not knowing what to do fuelled my anger. Hopefully, listening to my people and their advice should calm me down and help me plot a way forward. It's still a shame Winnemucca hasn’t come back yet. His ranging often made him missing for weeks but not for four months!
I refuse to lose hope until I see their lifeless bodies! Winnemucca provided good advice, especially on topics like human resources. His jovial persona made everyone like him despite lacking the charisma of Joshua and Edward. His unique presence as a tribal means his advice could’ve helped him tackle the Ridger question. Winnemucca’s absence continues to be painful and annoying.
Once all of my ‘cabinet’ filtered through my coach, the first to arrive was Doctor Calhoun, my minister for Science and Foreign Diplomacy. After him came, Jeff Simmons, my Head General and finally Joshua Graham, my minister for Home Security. Joshua’s militia was starting to shape up as he heavily disciplined them into an effective defensive army.
Even Jeff Simmons applauded them and congratulated Joshua for his achievements. I think he was just relieved that garrison duties could now be safely entrusted to Joshua and his militia. They still weren't battle-ready to escort caravans and battling raiders away, but they did a good job in 'protecting' the Abyss fortress and making the Ridgers ‘safer'. They've now started to provide security for mines not in the Fredonian warpath.
“I hope I’m not late, am I?” Joshua said whilst scratching his head.
"Not late. It should be my fault for calling all of you without any notice." I dipped my head in apology. I explained my situation and asked for their advice.
"With all due respect, sir. You're overcomplicating it. We have guns and mortars and they do not.”
Bill Calhoun immediately moved his chair, with a hideous squeak, to give him direct face-to-face access with Jeff Simmons. "I hope you're not advising what I think you’re advising, Lieutenant,” Bill said with venom in his voice.
Simmons just sighed in response. “I’m not advocating for mass slaughter, rest assured doc. What I’m saying is - to do what Mister Frederik did with the Kaibabs. Marching with overwhelming forces straight at their leadership and demanding what we need."
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"That won't work. The leadership is firmly on our side. It's their people that we need to tread carefully." Joshua chipped in and he was right. Lady Chaz and Ridgedog were our friends and defended us. Pointing a gun at their faces would have been very counter-productive.
“Then we round up their people and explain to them what we’re doing. Revolting under that condition will be minimised.”
“Absolutely not!” Bill shouted with a ragged breath. “Four months' worth of work would be down the drain! We healed their people, fed them and taught them to be farmers! And you would make them hostile over a mine!”
I moved to calm the good doctor down. He had the most exposure towards our rebellious friends being their healer-shaman, and his upbringing as a Follower of the Apocalypse conditioned him to approach the tribals with benevolence and understanding. Something the Lieutenant disagreed with.
However, we've compromised enough. "This may not just be a mine," I said catching everyone's attention. "It could be a vault. A vault that produces mutated animals. Think of the research we could plunder from it!” That took Bill Calhoun’s anger by a mile as he considered what I said.
"I-I suspected that could've been the case. Sometimes superstitions have rooted meanings and it all points to a vault. Or something highly advanced that could make the Forced-evolutionary virus seem like child play.”
"It will be like Pandora's box," I said referencing a Greek tragedy I read in the Boneyard Library.
“What’s that?” Joshua asked whilst getting nods of approval from Jeff Simmons. I turned over to Frank and he silently mouthed, ‘I already know about it.’ It really wasn't a surprise by now since Frank could pass off as being an erudite with how much knowledge he had. He was a prime example of why you shouldn’t judge a book from its cover.
I explained about an ancient Greek myth set in the beginning of creation where there was no toil and suffering. Zeus, the head of the Greek Pantheon of gods, gave Pandora a box and told her not to open it. Curiosity won over her and she opened it releasing sorrow, disease, vice, violence, greed, madness, old age, death- to plague humankind forever. Fortunately, the crafter of the box, Prometheus, snuck in hope inside the box. Hope gave mankind the resiliency to carry on despite all the evils released from the box.
"That was an interesting story." I was pleased when Joshua was enthralled by my storytelling. "So, the lesson is clear. To not open the Pandora's box. Right?”
“It appears so.” Simmons agreed dejectedly. “But regardless, we still will?”
I smirked, “What gave that away?”
“From the way you just smiled and the urgency of this meeting.”
Controlling my tells should be priority number one to get rid of. If I keep obviously showing my tells, I should kiss my future career as a congressman goodbye! “You’re right. Very good deductions by the way. But I’m confident in your trooper’s and ranger’s abilities, skills and experiences to be able to handle anything that’s going to come out of that mine.”
“What if it’s something that can’t be shot to bits?” My cowboy bodyguard interjected.
Bill Calhoun vigorously nodded in agreement. “Frank is right. What if it’s something worse than FEV-Curling-13!”
“I recognise FEV but what’s ‘Curling’?” Simmons asked.
Frozen and stiff, I let Bill explain. “It’s the official name for a plague that would’ve wiped out humanity that a famous Enclave Scientist – Doctor Curling was developing.”
“I thought that was just propaganda to justify Tandi mobilising thousands of people against the Enclave.” That was another point for Simmon’s competency and critical thinking. I’m glad my subordinates are actually intelligent and can see between the lines. Unfortunately, he’s wrong about that but his reasonings make perfect sense.
“No. It’s true. I’ve had colleagues who were former Enclave scientists that refused to join the Office for Science and Industry.”
“You were harbouring traitors?!” The Lieutenant jumped from his seat as he fumed at Bill. The two argued back and forth as they mentally detached themselves further away from us.
I stifled a laugh when my focus went back to Joshua who looked star-struck and confused. “I’ll explain after this meeting.” Another story-telling session where I’ll narrate the Chosen One’s heroics against the Enclave where he thwarted their plans, with NCR's help, of course. I had to sprinkle in a few pieces of propaganda to hook Joshua towards the NCR. I could still detect Joshua’s hesitation with the NCR and that was unacceptable.
Yes, I promoted critical thinking but being an ever-sceptic was anything but.
The two’s argument eventually fizzled out and I was swift to take charge. “My decision is made up. I want that vault to be opened. Damn the consequence. But with that, we're back to square one. I want to crack Pandora's box without the Ridgers revolting."
"Again, I reiterate and expand on my last point. To confine the Ridger and have Joshua's militia hold them at gunpoint."
“What’s with you and ‘gunpoint’!” Bill once again scathingly criticised Jeff.
Jeff fired back, "Unlike you, I'm actually advising things that we can implement. You've done nothing but stamp on my ideas without providing advice of your own!” He had Bill there.
"You want real advice, Leon?" I nodded and motioned for him to continue. "We explain to the locals that we are banishing the ill omens. Let’s play up on their prejudice and culture and use it to our advantage. I’ve been working with them for four months now. I should be able to convince them.”
I nodded and was impressed by his advice. “You’ll do it under heavy protection. I want the Ridgers rounded up – make it seem innocuous and not hostile. I want guns blazing when you make the announcement to them.”
Calhoun frowned with my added suggestions and challenged me on it. “What if the reactions are not what I conceived to be?”
“Then we go with the Lieutenant’s suggestion and place them all in protective custody, with Joshua’s militia keeping a close eye on them.”
"I hope it won't come to that," Bill said as he gave me a determined glare as he exited out of my coach after I excused them all.
“You reckon we’d resort to imprisoning them in their own homes?”
“Frank, can you stop being the devil’s advocate? It’s making my head ache.”
"Just trying to keep you on your toes. But I appreciate it if my question was answered."
“I’m confident Bill’s going to persuade them all. I’ve seen his reputation amongst the Ridgers which is much better than mine. He’ll do great.”
After Joshua’s militia with help from Simmon’s troopers rounded all the Ridgers just outside of the stone building, Bill delivered his impassioned speech about banishing the demons.
And with a cheer and that strange guttural war cry, those tribals loved to use, it was the clearest approval of the crowd to carry out what I've wanted to do since learning about the caves being possible vaults. And this time there won’t be a rebellion that threatened to stab us in the back.
I walked over to Jeff Simmons. “This is excellent. It’s satisfying being surrounded by competent subordinates.” Simmons reluctantly agreed. “Anyways, assemble your troopers and rangers, Lieutenant. We set off south tomorrow morning.”
“Sir yes sir!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Interlude – Rita I
Her captor, a mere boy whose balls have yet to drop, guided her towards a huge crowd of women and she noticed with disgust that some were girls all in varying stages of nakedness – one had a leather clothing that was clearly ripped by someone – by something. The girl struggled to stand as she wobbled and when she tumbled, one of the men started to beat her. Bloody savages!
Rita mentally gave her support and cheered for her to get back up. A few beatings later, the girl got up and gave her abuser a smile as tears ran down from her eyes.
Rita clenched her fist at that. Thankfully, the boy was kind to her. This Ridgedog boy handled her with someone who was completely smitten by her. She couldn’t help preen at this kind of attention but that was immediately doused when she figured out that this boy was leading this warband full of rapists and paedophiles.
He settled her next to a cart and carried her on top of it then proceeded to tie her wrist into the cog that protruded out of the wooden cart. “Such a gentleman,” she drawled.
As soon as all the women and girls were tied to each other and corralled like cattle into a straight line, a hive of activity burst from the rapist warriors. They led them further away from the camp and tied the cart to a tree. The lead woman who seemed to be in her early thirties was manhandled towards the end of the cart and put into bondage.
The mud caked the bottom of the cart which made Rita grateful for the extra hospitality she was receiving. She was lucky. Very lucky that ‘Ridgedog’ was not like one of his men.
She fumed when she thought back to the girl with a ripped shirt. Rita promised to herself that she would crush the balls of the man that raped and beat her. As if the heavens were blessing her, she spied a sharp splinter. Rita tested if it was truly embedded into the cart and when it didn’t move, despite her prodding, she got to work cutting the ropes that bonded her.
Warriors periodically checked up on them. She timed them every time – every five minutes someone would pop up.
That five minutes was not wasted as Rita rubbed the rope against the sturdy splinter making steady progress.
Then five minutes was up as she rested and pretended to doze off. When no one checked on them, paranoia spiked thinking she may have been caught and the warriors were just playing with her.
Reasons flooded inside her head on why they did this and it only came to something that truly horrified her. What if they were allowing her to escape? That would give them the justification to capture her and... And do things to her body. Without her consent.
She utterly failed to calm her laboured breathing. I must do something fast!
Gritting her teeth she moved like a cornered animal and frantically rubbed her bindings against the splinter. Eventually, the rope snapped eliciting a cheer from Rita.
All the ladies turned their attention towards her. Some pleaded for her to be quiet and gestured for her to sit back down.
Then the fear returned as her body turned to a statue. She couldn’t move. What if someone saw me free? What will they do to me? She pondered her predicament.
As the seconds turned to minutes and minutes to hours, she finally calmed down. She jumped down and worked quickly to free the women.
Seventy-one, seventy-two and finally seventy-three! Rita counted the number of women being freed and the number staggered her back. There were too many people to care for! She was a soldier and promoted to Sergeant due to her natural ability to lead a six-man squad but being in charge of this many people, who didn’t even know their language was a major challenge.
First order of business was when she gesticulated for them to follow her.
They hesitated which only irritated the Sergeant. “Follow me!” She waved her hands over to the sunset. She knew where they were going and that was west. Rita figured she could easily find the path leading to Hermit’s Rest.
She couldn’t be more wrong.
The trees became taller and the vegetation grew thicker and darker. Some of the ladies lost hope and screamed in terror. This put her group at a standstill as a significant number of them blamed her – or at least she thought they were blaming her. The language barrier was insurmountable.
She had enough and forced the hysterical lady to stand up. When she refused, Rita hauled the lady over her shoulders and continued to march with seventy-one souls following her.
As if a spark lit within themselves, they saw Rita’s determination and attempted to emulate it with great effect as they walked at least eight miles a day.
Another stroke of fortune when they encountered the behemoth of tribal. She recognised him. One of Leon Frederik’s inner circle of advisors and the only tribal as far as she was informed.
“Winne, right?” She approached the man and was weirded out by the gibberish that came out of his mouth as he kneeled. She looked like that Christian Preacher with impeccable aim. The Sergeant couldn’t care less about religion but his aim was something to envy and lust for.
The giant finished his trance. "Winnemucca. My name is Winnemucca of the Paiute. You must be Sergeant Rita?" He scanned her from top to bottom which made her recoil and instinctually covered her breast.
Her body was reserved for Georgie and no one else. And that's why she fought as hard as she could, bonded and shackled as she was, against that boy.
The awkwardness forced her to nod and hum. “We’re all lost. I hope you're not.”
Winnemucca sighed and stared at her. “It seems we’re all in the same canopy.”
“If by canopy you mean this entire forest, then yes we are,” Rita said a little too heated, unable to calm her due to growing exasperation with the situation she was in. “How’d we get this lost?”
The tribal pulled something purple from his pocket. It looked like a breed of mushrooms and potatoes. “This fungus is producing a hallucinogenic spore. We have something similar growing in the sparse greenery of the Parashant. It ruins all senses of direction. It’s highly likely that both of us were going around in circles.”
Rita clicked her tongue. This was not ideal and extremely unfair. Many eggheads would kill to be in the same situation as her as they dissect the fungi apart. Dare she think, that their illustrious leader would be one of them.
“So, what’s the plan?” She asked him hoping he wouldn’t take control.
"We hunker down and forage. Fortunately -" Winnemucca pointed at the ladies; at her people. Spending several days with them meant she grew attached to them. “Those women are good at gathering. We must put them to work.”
He stood up, as several women recoiled in fear, and said something in their language which put them at ease. She trembled with disgust once again as she saw some women continue to shiver in fear. Rita knew damn well what was causing them to act in such a way. Those bastards will get what’s coming to ‘em!
Despite the trauma, the women heed Winnemucca's sage advice as they fan out and pick berries, mushrooms and edible flowers then use their limited clothing as a makeshift basket.
Rita and Winnemucca joined them and to her horror, she picked up many species of mushrooms which were downright poisonous to spewing out radioactive spores. It was a shame she didn’t have a geiger counter with her. For now, she had to keep pointing at whatever she thought looked delicious enough to eat and say ‘ajódziih’ which she learnt from Winnemucca meant ‘curse’.
It meant either toxic or something that’ll mutate your DNA enough to grow a tail. She laughed whilst imagining herself having a tail.
She cackled some more to which she forced herself to calm down when a few of the ladies gave her a look full of judgement whilst grimacing. Rita had to admit after a few weeks, her mind was slipping.
The only good news was that they could finally see a few traces of sunlight, meaning they were past the bit of the forest where the top vegetation was so thick that it blanketed the ground in complete darkness.
Hope was nearing. Or at least it looked like it. She could tell from the sun setting down that they were definitely heading west. Where Leon Frederik and the expedition were currently heading. She’ll soon be with her people.
A crack of leaves and a few branches made her turn around and sighed in relief when Winnemucca was there. "It looks like we're on the right track. You looking forward to being at home."
Home. She thought long and hard about what home meant. "For most of my life, I was constantly on the move. We had to leave New Reno when my dad fell foul to loan sharks to pay off his gambling habit. We settled in Oregon, perhaps the northernmost point the NCR controlled. Then a devastating drought hit the area. Ruining months of my family's work toiling on the fields.” She gulped hard and started to play with the yellowing leaves with her foot.
“Life was hard. But Mom, Dad, Sierra and I soldiered on and got a house near the Great Wall separating Dayglow and Tijuana. Not much land to farm so I took the burden and responsibility and left. More food for Sierra that way. And that's why I'm here. A Sergeant in the middle of nowhere following a boy whose voice cracks every minute.”
The tanned-skinned man rumbled into a laugh, "I swear Leon reminds me sometimes of my Elders and there are times where I find myself realising that he's just a kid.”
The kid was smart, far smarter than she and all the people she knew till now. He was also the driving force of Frederik Chemicals, a company soaring with newfound wealth. Son to a prominent Lawyer and former mercenary who owns vast tracks of fertile land.
Leon Frederik stood to inherit all of this, something that made her extremely envious. But rather than feel contempt at the boy, she leapt at the opportunity to ingratiate herself to him hoping some of that wealth would trickle down.
She moved her hands and cooped the golden bracelets adorning her wrists and biceps. That raid into that vault went terribly, but she got a couple of circuits and spare computer parts along with gold and diamond jewellery that'll make her and the rest of the Vasquez family live thrice over!
All thanks to Leon’s leadership – sure El-Tee Simmons tried to get all the credit but he doesn’t have a company worth millions.
A flash of guilt and regret overwhelmed her when she suddenly clenched her fist and jerked her wrist causing a tiny spurt of blood to emerge. If only Georgie got out with us.
She remembered Leon was the one who convinced her to stop charging inside to rescue her beloved. In hindsight, she knew it was suicide but she needed to at least try!
Hope swelled within her. The hope of finding the expedition and hope that Georgie survived against that green ghoul.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be.
They walked into a spot in the forest where there were barely any trees and, in all directions, it was complete darkness. This felt like a trap.
And indeed it was because they were completely surrounded by purple-horned deer, wolves that salivated pink goo and strangely the reptilian humanoid that rode the wolves and deer.
The eclectic wildlife she didn't focus on since radiation did unusual things to animals but the lizard... Folks? The Lizard folks all wore a white coat similar to the ones Doctor Calhoun and his coterie of Follower medics.
And they also were armed with pistols and from the looks of it they knew what it could do since they were pointing it at them.
She was prepared to die then and there. At least I managed to keep my diamond jewellery and computer parts inside my personal locker. That should set Mom, Dad and Sierra for life.
They fired and was prepared for the agony of having a bullet inside her. But when nothing of the sort happened, she was confused. Then she realised there was a dart sticking out from her chest.
Rita felt as if she was ascending to heaven as the dart released something inside her. She wasn't opposed. In fact, she welcomed it because it felt good. So good that she fell asleep.