A sentry called out to Kenneth as more of his wardens trudged their way into the apartment complex where the whole of his Baker Company was to regroup, laden with their ill-gotten loot. The old ghouls had spent nearly the entire summer harassing the Brotherhood positions where they could. Naturally, this included the civilian settlements under their protection. Anything to weaken the enemy’s hold over the South.
This last squad had come across a herd of brahmin left in a pasture, exposed to the elements. After capturing several heads of the brahmin, they killed the rest and set fire to the corpses. They acquired walking food stores that could also carry their belongings, while denying the enemy food for the winter.
“It was all left out, completely unsupervised.” One man had explained. “What else were we to do, but to take as much as we could?”
Kenneth laughed at that. When his radio operator intercepted more of the Brotherhood’s communications, his wardens had been labeled as raiders. And it wasn’t far off from the truth.
But they weren’t raiders, no matter how they looked. Ragged and muddy-gray from the months they spent away from home, hiding in ruins like rats. They were soldiers and were about to be descended upon by the enemy. Their spoils were disposed of as men made organized themselves.
A squad named “Lance 27” approached from the north while a task force approached from the south. They threatened to trap his wardens while the rest of the company was still gathering. When Kenneth summoned the senior nco’s and officers of the company, those that had arrived at the apartments, they all knew the predicament they were in and someone volunteered to take the rearguard.
“I can buy the company more time.” The man said, sounding more resigned to death than anything else, but Kenneth already decided that this responsibility would be his.
Even before they had all become ghouls, these men had been his brothers during the war. He could still see their fresh faces staring back at him, as if their flesh hadn’t been twisted by radiation. If he oversaw the rearguard himself, he could make certain that no more of them were lost.
Kenneth’s radio operator transmitted his orders to the rest of the company, “Head west and hug the coast to the north, we are going home.” When wardens vacated their rooms, led by the company lieutenant, darkness and sudden snows fell hard upon Seattle. Kenneth pulled his hood over his head, covered his face with his gas mask. The weather would obscure his advance and he decided that fate was on their side as he led his platoon south to confront the Brotherhood.
They intercepted the Brotherhood’s task force along a road flanked by the ruins of old stores and restaurants. As expected, the Brotherhood’s soldiers were too busy clearing their eyes of snow to watch their surroundings. They were not accustomed to the snow as Kenneth’s ghouls were, who wandered perilously close to the enemy, but remained unseen. Kenneth watched as knights shivered underneath heavy layers that were more than enough to keep them warm. Meanwhile, most of the paladins kept their heads bowed low as they marched, trying uselessly to keep their visors clear of snowmelt. Only the paladin up front kept his head up, but he could not watch everywhere all at once.
Kenneth allowed the marching column to pass by as he and his platoon hid in the ruins beside the road, an old bakery with thick walls of brick. Only after he led his wardens across the road did he give the signal to open fire on the enemy, focusing their fire on the enemy’s knights. It was assumed that they were priority targets, if only because Kenneth and his wardens had nothing to penetrate through a paladin’s power armor.
Several knights fell to the ground, dead in the snow, and other knights panicked as they looked around for the enemy. They fired wildly in all directions until a paladin pointed directly at Kenneth’s wardens through the snowfall and unleashed a hail of minigun fire in their direction.
Kenneth and his men took cover where they could, but bullets shredded through the walls of the bakery, transforming it from cover to concealment. They were forced to hug the floor as they crawled away or else they’d be torn to shreds. Kenneth couldn’t quite believe that anyone still had the knowledge to repair such weapons, but the enemy already had power armor. The Brotherhood were quite the high-tech raiders.
He felt his heart jump in his chest, feeling dread for the first time in two hundred years. Why hadn’t the Brotherhood sent such a weapon when they advanced north? Their victory should’ve been assured if they had access to this much fire power.
A wooden table burst apart and Kenneth wiped the dust and debris from his gasmask. He couldn’t help but recall Captain Sylvia’s command over another rearguard, after Julius’ failed advance south. According to her reports, Captain Sylvia had done more running than fighting while distracting the Brotherhood away from their main camp. He had diverted his company away from the Brotherhood to skirmish with the Skulltakers, but now he truly understood what Captain Sylvia had faced to protect them. If he made it back to Capitol Hill, he’d have to find some way to reward her.
Kenneth pulled himself to his feet and kicked open a rear door leading into an alleyway. “Get up! Get off your bellies and run! You’re men, not worms! Get up!” Despite his words, Kenneth was still crouched low as bullets whizzed overhead, but that didn’t stop him from pulling men onto their feet and pushing them out of the bakery. Kenneth himself barely escaped when knights arrived at the front door to fire their laser rifles into the building.
He had thought to skirmish with the Brotherhood, avoiding their paladins while fighting with the knights, but that idea was shot to pieces. The Brotherhood’s task force had automatic weapons like his wardens did, but they had an honest-to-God minigun in place of a machine gun that was jury-rigged from scrap. There was nothing to do, but to flee as Fox Company had.
Kenneth waved for his men to follow as he ducked into a building across the alleyway. They ran through as the Brotherhood’s knights pursued, exchanging fire with their machine guns. While not as large as a minigun, it was still enough to suppress their enemy as they ran.
One squad stood their ground to fire on the enemy, allowing the other squads in the platoon to flee. Then, another squad would take up this responsibility. Kenneth floated from squad to squad, directing the action, as the platoon bounded from cover to cover. They weaved through ruins where a man in power armor might have trouble moving.
Before long, the platoon lost sight of the Brotherhood task force as they found shelter in a ruined hospital. There were several wounded among them and Kenneth hoped to find medical supplies, but anything the platoon could’ve used was already looted.
As the men rested their feet, Kenneth wandered the halls to find somewhere to piss when he found himself in a chapel built into the hospital. It was meant for prayers for the dying and Kenneth figured it applied to him and his men as well as any patient the hospital once housed. He would’ve prayed for rescue, but men like them were beyond prayer.
The last church he visited had a hole blown into the side, to make it easier to kill the paladins sheltering inside. Besides, the situation had progressed better than expected. The platoon had suffered no casualties during their retreat and he didn’t want to tempt God’s hand by asking for too much.
A man called out frantically for Kenneth. “Hennessey wants to see you. He says he’s picked up another transmission from the Brotherhood.”
Kenneth felt his bladder pulse, filled as it was, but he made his way to his radio operator without complaint. When he arrived at the reception area where most of his men were loitering, Kenneth found his radio operator tinkering with his radio.
“They know we’re here and they’re on their way.” The man said. “I can play it back.” He turned the knobs on the vault-tec pip boy he had attached to the radio and began to play the message he had intercepted, but Kenneth patted his shoulder.
“If they’re after us, then we don’t have the time.”
The platoon had just arrived at the hospital and already the Brotherhood was pursuing them. Regardless of anything else, they needed to keep running. Kenneth was leading his men out of the hospital when laser fire hit the walls around them.
Men dropped to their knees, ducking low as they scattered, but the paladins in the distance were far away. Kenneth ordered them to stand up and run, but someone grabbed his shoulder and yelled.
“Look over there! It’s that big bastard!” The man pointed at the paladins and Kenneth had to pull up his gask mask to see what he meant. Silhouetted behind the snowfall, the Brotherhood’s enforcer charged forward. Red light flashed off his armor as he fired his rifle.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Kenneth considered them for a moment and looked to where the moon was rising. The paladins were approaching from the northwest, but were they part of the task force or that other squad meant to flank them? “It doesn’t matter right now, keep moving.” Kenneth decided and waved his men along, telling them to run.
Yet, the paladins pursued them furiously and Kenneth’s wardens had endured their retreat for too long. The moon was high in the sky when they reached the Pacific Highway. As soon as they found shelter from the snow underneath an overpass, where the highway twisted and turned into a cloverleaf shape, men collapsed to their knees.
They had been trained to endure long marches while on campaign, before the bombs fell, but they were past the point of exhaustion. Before long, they’d be run down before they got a chance to fight.
Even Kenneth could not help but to take a knee as he faced the paladins that had pursued them. The paladins were watching, but stayed in the distance. If there was any consolation for the sorry state of his wardens, it was that the enemy was likely as tired as they were.
“Kenneth, they’re pulling back.” The radio operator said as he slumped nearby. “Someone named Michael requested permission to attack, but he was ordered to regroup with the rest of their task force. I think it’s him, the big bastard.”
Kenneth allowed himself a moment to rest, seating himself beside his radio operator. “Let me hear your recordings. I want to hear everything he has to say.”
The radio operator turned the knobs on the pipboy attached to his radio and played back his first recording from the day. “This is Paladin Michael speaking.” Eventually, the radio operator played back the recording preceding the warden flight from the hospital.
Kenneth heard the young man’s voice and smiled bitterly. He sounded as young Julius did when he enlisted into the army, dragging Kenneth along with him, but his voice had none of his innocence. War tended to bring out the savagery in man, Kenneth knew that better than most, but was this Michael fellow the Brotherhood’s feared enforcer?
“What do you make of it, do you think it’s really him? That big metal bastard?” Kenneth asked his radio operator.
“He sounds young, but who else could it be?”
The company lieutenant, Kenneth’s aide-de-camp, edged closer to the two men. Lifting himself off the ground like a crab. “We were young once. Didn’t stop Uncle Sam from sending us to fight the commies. It ought to be good for us if the Enforcer is young.”
The radio operator added, “The Canadians found that out early on, to our detriment.”
Kenneth nodded in agreement. “Younger men make more mistakes.”
✥✥✥
Snow bit into a skewer of lakelurk meat, savoring the taste. Roasted and buttered, she had earned that privilege. It had been the one to push her into the mud, the closest to death she had ever come, but the lakelurk was dead and Snow was not.
Her knees shook beneath her, but she was already seated so she couldn’t fall into the mud a second time. She sat on a log near a large bonfire at the center of the town. The fire blazed and warmed its surroundings as several cookfires roasted meat for the whole of Fairview, including its guests.
The day had been nearly a disaster and it was a miracle that nobody had died. That alone was cause for celebration, but the haul from their recent hunting expedition had surpassed the sum total of every other expedition. Enough for a feast today, plus even more food that would last two or three months through the winter.
The higher the risk, the higher reward, or so Snow thought. Though, she doubted anyone would be willing to take such a risk again. All that needed to be done now was to make steady gains on more expeditions until their food stores held enough to last Fairview through the winter. Nice and simple.
The fire warmed Snow’s skin and dried her hair. She had taken a shower to clean herself of muck and Renner loaned to her an old dress she had worn in her youth. Dark blue like night and form-fitting, it felt too short. She straightened the dress, but the fabric wouldn’t stretch past her knees. Sam sat beside Snow, dressed in her usual jeans and sweater, damp from her time on Lake Union. Snow couldn’t help but think the dress would suit her better, but there was no helping it.
Snow was too tall for Sam’s clothes. If her own clothes were baggy, Sam’s clothes were too short. Snow pressed her knees together and hunched over them. Awkward stick-girl, that’s what Nadya had called her. Her long legs extended freakishly from the dress. Plucked and bare, they were like chicken legs. Not the part with the meat, but the bone.
Snow couldn’t help but feel cold then, despite the fire, so she bit off a piece of lakelurk from her skewer and forced herself to eat. The children of Fairview’s orphanage were seated nearby, each with their own skewers. Mama Mayhue sat among them. Now that there was enough food for the children, the old headmistress could feel comfortable with filling her own belly for once. It was something Snow could be proud of, at the least.
“Sit up straight, girl.” Renner said. “That dress is going to go to waste if you’re hunched over like that.”
“The dress doesn’t suit me.” Snow rubbed at her cold knees with her free hand, her shoulders tensed and raised.
“That young man over there disagrees. He’s been sneaking glances your way for a while now.” Renner nodded in the distance, directing Snow’s attention to a family of five. Among them was a young man dressed in a patched suit, seated beside two young children who must’ve been his siblings. His father handed him a cup and the young man smiled the way Snow might have done with her own parents and when he met Snow’s eyes, his smile grew.
Snow blushed, but realized that he must’ve been looking at Sam. She was sitting beside her, after all. “I don’t think he’s looking at me. He’s just looking around.”
Renner scoffed and simply ate the rest of her skewer. When she finished, she stood and left without saying a word.
“You know she’s right. You’re beautiful in that dress.” Sam said. “Everyone knows it.”
There was nothing Snow could say to that. Sam could be kind and say some words, but Snow couldn’t bring herself to pretend the way Sam did. She wished she had a blanket to cover herself. The night was still chilly, despite the fires, which would’ve been her excuse for the blanket.
A man began making noise, calling for everyone’s attention. He was a little drunk, but that wasn’t why he was calling out. Renner was standing nearby, smiling with another skewer of meat. She’d only just met the woman, but Snow had a sneaking suspicion that Renner had roused the drunk man when he made his way to where Snow was seated. The man was clean shaven and wearing different clothes, but Snow recognized the man.
“Fairview, hear me, I would like to dedicate a toast. A lakelurk was on me and all around, but this young woman charged through that mess and saved my life. With the butt of her gun, she smashed the lakelurks face. It was the truest act of bravery I ever did see.” The man gestured to Snow and her heart stopped in her chest when she felt all of Fairview’s eyes on her. She sat deathly still on her seat, her smiling face like a stone mask. “So here’s to Snow! Snow! Snow!”
Fairview began cheering her name and Snow felt something in her shoulders loosen. “My hand hurts.” Sam whispered beside her and she realized she had grabbed hold of her friend’s hand for comfort, but squeezed until her fingers left white marks. For once, people were staring at her and she felt something other than shame.
Snow waved to everyone and a few people waved back, with smiles on their faces instead of judging contempt. She looked to the young man that Renner had pointed out to her earlier. Snow felt her ears redden and couldn’t help but look away. He was clapping and cheering with all the rest, it was all for her. She felt heady in that moment and swayed gently in her seat, enjoying the sound of her own name like the sound of Lake Union’s crashing waves at high tide.
Renner returned to her seat beside Snow with a smug grin. “See, I told you so.” She said and Snow laughed as she stood from her seat.
The bonfire felt warm now and Snow felt its heat radiating over her body as the wood crackled. Embers glowed within the fire, dancing in the flames, and Snow’s belly grumbled for food. She walked to one of the cookfires, not minding the curious eyes sent her way, and waited patiently for another skewer of lakelurk. Someone tapped her shoulder and when Snow turned, she found the young man from earlier. Pale green eyes, flecked with silver, gazed down at her and Snow took an involuntary step back, eyes wide and shocked to find someone taller than she was.
The young man smiled, revealing straight teeth that almost glowed by the firelight. “Am I that scary?”
“N-No, you j-just surprised me.” Why was she stuttering? Why was she stuttering? Why was she stuttering?
Snow’s free arm wrapped around her front and held her other arm by the elbow. Her pointy shoulders jutted forward as they raised and Snow pressed her lips together to keep them from shaking, but her face felt hot and she knew she looked embarrassing.
“That’s good to hear. I was hoping to talk to you.” The young man averted his eyes and blushed the way Snow might. “My name is Sebastian.” He offered.
“Snow.” She returned simply and wondered why he was nervous as she took in the contours of his handsome face. When her eyes drifted to his body, she saw that it had a nice shape underneath his patched suit. There was nothing he had to be embarrassed about.
Except for every onlooker staring at them.
An old couple chuckled to themselves and snuck glances their way, as if Snow wouldn’t know what they were doing. Others were less furtive and Snow heard her name in hushed whispers still loud enough for her to hear. So soon after hearing her name cheered loud enough to echo throughout the entirety of Fairview, it wasn’t a pleasant sound to be reminded of.
Snow looked down at the ground, as if they might look away if she didn’t make eye contact, but found that her shoulders and chest were pink. She could’ve dropped to her knees from embarrassment, the dress revealed parts of her that her baggy clothes would’ve hidden away. Instead, she grabbed Sebastian’s hand and asked, “Come with me, to the shore. There’s something I want to show you. We can talk there.”
Sebastian followed without resistance and Snow’s face burned from the eyes that watched them. Her heart paced and ears rang, but Snow kept Sebastian’s hand in hers as they walked to a small boathouse on the shore. Where they could talk, just the two of them.