Thousand Yard Stare

Richard Ryan/ Howler's pov

Well I had stolen a fusion core for nothing it seemed. Our power armor was stolen junk, and I just found out that we had an alert team of gunners. The boy told us all about the conscripts, two officers and commander, and Gunner commanders had power armor.

After he told us everything I had Cait strangle him. The boy now had no fingers on one and a half hands anyways. George never had the stomach or was a fan of interrogations and deep down, neither was I. The boy didn't do anything wrong, he wasn't given a choice when the gunner's ripped him from his family farm. Maybe he was raised by scavvers before the gunners came. I didn't know, and I would never know; all I know is once an enemy is dead don't think about them or what they could have left behind. I've had friends kill themselves over festering guilt about doing what needed to be done.

And I always did what needed to be done. I like the dirty work or… I act like I do. This is me, the ravenous wolf of the wastes. Ruven Allen's right hand man. Whether the work was clean or dirty I was there with him through it all like his shadow.

Not many know what Ruven was truly capable of. Macready and Cait know. Oh, and Hancock. We had busted a drug deal. Lied to the ghoul about letting her live, killed Malcom's drug peddling son and confiscated the chems for ourselves. Hancock didn't like that much, we had a big spat over it and he hasn't traveled with us since.

Sometimes I wonder, has all the things we've down really been necessary? Someone called my name but my thoughts continued. Do I even have a right to question his morals when I've strangled people with their own entrails in open battle? All for theatric's sake? Did the cruelty really save lives and make things quicker?

A leg kicked my shin and my eyes darted up to Cait's, "You've gone deaf of somethin'? Quit looking at the blood on your hands and get a move on. Ashman isn't a good scout and needs ya."

Blood on my hands? Oh, yeah. I remember breaking and tearing that kid's fingers off by hand now. The blood was dried but I still tried to wipe it away on my now ratty pants. I tried not to think about him and still got roped down the dark soldier's memory lane.

Pushing myself up from the car I was propped against, we left the dead kid in the trunk. Meeting up with George, he was keeping watch as the Radstorm roiled. Green lightning arced between a Bottle and Cappy statue in the distance when I asked, "You want me to go out there?"

"It'll be easier for you to sneak up and find them."

"I bet they're holed up somewhere waiting out the storm."

"Or they're out there coming to surprise us while we wait out the storm."

"George, I'll be alone out there."

"If I had half as much faith in God as I do in you I'd be a blonde wasteland Moses."

"You'll owe me one."

He turned back and peered at Cait as she sat on the hood of a Corvega and picked out a splinter of her arm. He added in a teasing whisper,

"I'll put a good word in for you with Cait."

"That ain't funny George."

He chuckled, "It is to me. Now go get 'em, Howler."

"I bet Roger is kissing Fahrenheit right now."

George frowned, "That's not funny Richard."

"It is to me, partner. Why didn't you stay in Goodneighbor with her?" I asked.

"After Malone, the Shroud crap, the Ruskie Kingpin? Too much blood. It's gotta catch up with you eventually you know?"

"I know what you mean. The memory den, Nick bein' possessed by Kellog for a second. Too many memories for me."

"In the hotel when Ruven and Cait-"

"You shut your mouth." I spat and George laughed.

"I teased you enough, get a move on."

With a grunt, I went to the duffel and popped some Rad-X. Searching the bodies, I stripped off a gas mask from the dead to further help keep down Rads. No grenades from this bunch but I bet the commander might have some. Twisting my stiff back there was a taut snap and I rolled my shoulders; getting ready to move.

"Ugh, this thing smells like a bucket o' piss."

My head swirled to the muffled Irish voice behind me and Cait was walking to me with a looted laser rifle in hand. Even though her face was covered by a gas mask, the skin on the smooth of her neck was paler than normal. Wondering how she was still standing, my eyes drifted to the red area on her wrist. An aggravated spot close to her hand told-tale of her sneaking a shot of Psycho into her system.

"Cait, you know I work better alone."

"Like hell ya do. You nearly died not a few hours ago Tex. Besides, I need to keep my adrenaline pumpin'."

"I killed over a dozen men, a sentry bot, and a cloaked assaultron by myself."

"Yeah and almost died you stupid mutt. I'm comin' with ya whether you like it or not."

Our eyes burned into each other's through our masks in clashing determination. Finally I sighed and dismissively waved for her to follow with my hand. She followed closely behind me and I was kinda glad to have her by my side.

And none of that gladness was because she was a good scout.

"Jesus Christ," she muttered, "I can't even see two feet in front of me. How in the hell can you see through this?"

"I have decent perception and have always been a Night Owl. Was used to the dark because every time I had to run from the law after a bar fight. Was a wanted man when I joined the army."

"What did you do to get the law on ya? Other than the fights o' course?"

"You've seen how good I am with knives and blades." I finished darkly.

Debris was kicked up behind me and before I knew it instinct took over. I whirled around and had my knife out and nearly stabbed Cait in her aorta. We both mumbled curses and she spat in a hushed voice,

"What the hell was that Howler? We're on the same team!"

"I'm used to being alone, I thought you were someone sneaking in on me. Walk quieter."

"I nearly tripped! You know I can't see out here!"

"And that's why," my voice harsh as I sheathed my knife, "I told you to stay back!"

She went silent a moment and added, "I'm just trying to help, don't you see that?"

Regret hit me in the gut and I stammered, "N-now Cait I didn't-"

A loud but distant voice wafted down to us on the winds and I cut my talk short. The voices grew closer, as well as the sound of barking. Tracking dogs. The kid didn't tell us about that.

"Follow the dog!" Someone yelled.

I gripped Cait by the hand and led her behind some cover saying, "Stay here."

"Like hell-"

"Look, you can't see. I can. Once the storm clears up I'll be exposed. Help then, Cait."

With that, I left her there and disappeared into the green haze. The first thing I did once away from Cait was shoot the dog with my M1. The upper half of its head was removed and the Gunners shot blindly towards my location. After the shooting paused I went back, looped around a Corvega and went up an incline of rubble to get around them as they shuffled towards my previous location.

As long as I didn't knock down any rocks I should be good. I was getting around them and Cait was still hidden in the storm. A spotlight suddenly flashed past and I crouched down below another Corvega. Looking through a rusted out hole, I spotted the commander. He was the one with a spotlight on his power armor.

If he flashes me or Cait with that we were done for. Four lackeies watched the commander's flanks, two on one side and two on the other. Taking out my sword from the sheathe parallel to my spine I Blitzed forward. Jabbing the button built by Ruven into the pommel into my thigh my electric sword built up heat as it went into overdrive. Like a hot knife through butter my serrated sword maimed one, disemboweled another, cut the next in half and decapitated the last one.

It happened so fast that the commander twirled around only to see his men holding their guts, bleeding to death, and screaming in pain. The commander shouted a curse and blasted into the haze and shadows. There were still a dozen of them in total. The odds still weren't good.

"Sit tight men!" Then the commander turned off his spotlight. As he fingered his helmet I couldn't tell what he was doing. Why did he turn off the spotlight? He turned about almost… scanning until he looked at me.

Immediately he lifted his battle rifle and shot past my head. Turning on the spotlight, he charged full tilt towards me and shouted, "I got you!"

I realized too late that he had turned on his targeting HUD and locked onto me. Cussing, I started running as my overdrive ran out. I wasn't going to be able to use it for some time. While running I grabbed my pipe pistol and the stolen power core. Turning, mid-run, I took some pot shot and did as was expected.

Nothing.

More than that, I stumbled into a trash can and tumbled into the cement. The commander hip fired at me while running and bullets pinged around me. Shooting up to my feet, I fled around a corner into a soda bar. My feet crushed an old skeleton with a dress and teddy bear near by as I trampled in. Looking right, looking left, I was thinking on my feet as a walking tank stomped closer. Cussing, I tossed the fusion core onto the tile floor and shot it twice before leaping behind the soda bar counter. Crashing through the wall the commander said, "It's over-"

Then he noticed the fusion core and screamed. I only heard the explosion for a tenth of a second before the sheer power released threatened to knock me out. In the army, I learned it wasn't always the shrapnel that killed a man. The sheer energy of an explosion can rupture organs instantly. Power armor was strong enough to withstand conventional fragmentation grenades but a fusion core? The operator would need medical attention if he didn't get stimmed up right away. Power armor was strong, but humans were weak.

In the chaos, the explosion bumped a music box or vinyl player and Sid Philips' song Boogie Man started playing. The counter was obliterated, really, the small building was turned into splinters. Next to me, in my half blind and recovering state was a double action revolver. It had a short scope and was really the best western revolver I've seen. Not the usual .44, but I checked the cylinder and only found one bullet. Pushing myself to get up I hobbled over to the commander as he groaned; my equilibrium all screwed up. The explosion had blasted him 30 yards (27.5 meters); in fact, I almost tumbled into a fire the explosion had caused. Sunlight was beating down on me now through the smoke.

Reaching for the leather holster under his arm the commander struggled with aiming a short double barrel and I kicked it out of his hand. He looked at me, a defeated tone in his voice when he spat,

"Do it."

To be honest, I barely heard him. My ears bleeding from the explosion in an enclosed space, I twirled the cylinder on my revolver with a smile on my face.

"Okay."

Click.

He cursed at me. Click.

His body was shaking with rage. Clack.

Finally he screamed, "DO IT!" That's when the .44 at point blank range punched through the T-45's visor and disappeared. I got off of him, his body going through death throes and picked up his shotgun when I heard the laser rifle shooting.

Cait.

It took me a second to suck my brain up my nose and I started sprinting towards her location. I also realized that the soldiers didn't follow their leader. That was probably because Cait started shooting once I was made. Arriving behind the six remaining gunners, I realized that Cait managed to put a Corvega into neutral and roll it into four of the gunners. She winged two who were critically wounded by her laser rifle.

I crept up behind one who flinched as each bullet pinged off of Cait's location. She had an electric baton until I kicked the back of her knee, gripped her nappy dirty blonde hair and shoved it through a window. I jabbed her neck on the glass and it stabbed into her throat, sending her rolling around in her blood. Taking her baton I crept closer to the others.

"Guys!" One shouted, "I think she's outta ammo!"

"Charge her!"

Cussing, I slung my M1 off my back and shot the remaining five as fast as I could. I only got three and missed the furthest two as they disappeared over the hill. Running up the hill, my boots heavy from exhaustion on the cement, I heard Cait yelling, "Come at me you cunts! C'mon! Let me show you why your parents never loved ya!"

Not bothering to reload, I tossed my M1 down and took the shotgun I had tucked in my pants in my hands. The officer turned back and before he could bring his gun around my shot removed his arm. I shot again, spilling him into the dirt, and realized I screwed up.

The other officer didn't notice. His back was turned when he grabbed Cait and twirled her around as a body shield. Gun to her temple he spat, "Put the gun down!"

"Your commander is dead." I held the gun in a manner more visible, "Took this off his corpse. How about you drop it and be the sole survivor of this wreck of a day?"

Cait's eyes flickered around desperately while the Gunner concentrated on me. She noticed the body and the bluff before he did.

"Oh my God, you BLOODY idiot!"

"Cait shut up!"

"I swear to God I'm going to kill you Howler!"

The gunner whacked the pommel into Cait's temple shouting, "Quiet!"

My mouth went dry, my vision went red and I went silent. Cait knew this silence well and groaned, "You're dead now," she added, "his gun ain't loaded but you're so dead."

The gunner's head snapped up and once he caught the bluff he extended his gun arm.

And it was at this moment that he was finished.

Cait reached up and flipped him over her shoulder. I lunged forward, tore the laser pistol from his arm and pulled up on his arm behind his back. Not stopping when he was screaming, not even when I felt his arm dislocate in my hands. I never stopped even when I shot the shoulder with the laser pistol, weakening the tendons, and through sheer rage I tore his arm off. Beating him, I didn't stop even when he stopped moving.

Pictures of the men I hated, me, my father, they floated through my mind.

I was blind to the fact that I had beat his head in so much both his eyes were gone. He was unrecognizable when I came to, my knuckles were bleeding too. When did I start punching him? Tossing the arm down, his head made a wet sound when I gave it a final kick.

Looking at the wet blood in my hands I tried to wipe them off on my filthy clothes. I walked down the street behind the Corvega I knew Cait was resting behind. The gas mask hung at her neck, and almost all skin visible to the eye was covered in mud made from dust and blood. Her tired green eyes bore into mine and her face was almost soft under the filth. The adrenaline rush had left her and her breathing was heavy. I tore my eyes away, a pang of guilt from what I just did passing through me.

That's all it does though. Pass. Then once the guilt passes it's gone. A little stays and adds to the pile but it's gone. I'll brag about it later to scare recruits or something. Cait knew though, I don't know how, but she knew that what I just did wasn't healthy. Maybe she had done the same thing to scare the Raiders at the Combat Zone. Put up an act, make a scare, and it ends problems before they start. What I just did though, was snap; some sort of psychological break. No one was watching, no one could know.

"Hey, you alright Tex?"

I was just staring into space, the thousand or two-thousand yard stare people called it. I just nodded my head. Unable to say anything unless… something broke.

She gripped my shoulder and said, "Hey, look at me."

I took a deep breath, took my mask off, tossed it in agitation and my blue eyes burned into her green ones. When she saw the darkness, life just drained from my eyes, she just mumbled a curse, scooted closer and just held me. That was when something else in me snapped and I just started crying.

***