More Stories For Vadim

Richard Ryan/Howler's pov

A man who redefined war once said that war is cruelty, and it cannot be refined. That war is hell. Also, if William T. Sherman had the chance, he'd kill every reporter in the world but felt like if he did that he'd be getting reports from Hell before breakfast. I didn't kill any reporters but Hell likes to send the people I did kill in my dreams, like my dad. Mostly my dad. Sherman believed that the crueler a war was, the quicker it ended.

If only that were the case...

War is hell, Sherman once said. My father must not have it too bad down there then. Such a disappointment.

I strode through the wastes almost robotically as the others followed. My wolf cloak on, I was easy to spot from a distance. Cait was huffing as she came up from behind me. I always made her carry the duffle.

"Can't we take a break boss?"

"We're getting scouted."

She gave me a blank look as I kept walking.

"We're what?"

"Raiders with robots. The civi's are screwed." I stopped moving, turned to her and ordered, "Give me some Stealth Boys, toots."

She pivoted the bag away, as if I moved to take it. "What are ya plannin'? You're not leavin' me are ya?" She said this with a playful smile.

"Buyin' time." I declared, my Texan drawl showing it's color.

"Alright, alright, keep your shirt on."

I looked past her at Ashman as he directed the refugees. Poor George, I knew we were getting scouted for a while but if I told him sooner then the refugees would panic. Cait was the only person I trusted outside my squad mates, especially in combat. Despite her... habits she tries to hide, she has the coolest head out of everyone here when in a fight. She was so crass in fact, that when hellfire was coming like rain she merely mumbled a curse, casually picked up her winnings from arm wrestling and got my duffle bag.

I find that incredibly endearing. That, and I think she has the body of a goddess. Then there was her accent.

"Is it true that you never wash that thing? Your cloak?" She asked, handing me two Stealth Boys, chems, stims, four frag grenades, and my electrified Chinese officer sword.

"I'll tell you later. George!" He glanced at me, and knew from my posture that crap was about to hit the fan, "Rad storm's blowing in! I'll be back. There's a Monorail Station not far from here. That amusement park when we were kids?"

"You're the most useless scout ever, anyone ever tell you that?"

"They always said I was the best. No equals."

"Just get back 'ere in one piece, you stupid Texan." Cait said.

"Gotta give 'em a piece of me first darlin'."

And with that, I clicked on the Stealth Boy as the wind kicked up some dust. We were in an occasional dry patch of the Wasteland as my feet were crunching towards the Raiders hiding behind the hill. Once over the hill, I got a good look on all of them.

CRAP.

A dozen metal armored Raiders and six drugged melee kamikazes. Or, that's how I looked at them, suicidal idiots. I did that a lot during the Sino-American War, running into battle with only a Ripper after using everything else up. Hell, all I got right now is some nades and my sword. I closed in, and began counting the robots.

One sentry bot. Six eyebots. Four Protectrons.

The big-boy was in the center of the raiding party. I wasn't like Shades, our hacker and urban warfare specialist, I couldn't hack a Sentry Bot if my life depended on it. And right now? It did. If I could have hacked the bot, I would have essentially taken out the entire group. I did know where the batteries were though and Ashman is gonna need an extra fusion core or two for his stolen armor.

I'm doubting that I'll get out of here. Getting low, I snuck right past the Raiders and robots in broad daylight; my Stealth Boy doing wonders. Only the Sentry Bot stopped, muttering,

"Warning! Unauthorized-"

Then I threw open the back panel and ripped out a core. It was so fast that it actually didn't raise suspicion. The robot was salvaged after all and over two centuries old.

"Ugh!" A metal Raider groaned, his voice careful not to alert my party, "Did someone forget to put the power cores in that thing?! You-" he pointed at two kamikaze scrubs, "get it fixed."

The two raiders, a man and a woman went to the robot. I stood to the side, sweating as the group separated. The woman scrunched her nose as they climbed onto the bot.

"God, why does it smell like wet dog over here?"

"What," the metal raider said, just within earshot, "did you just say?"

It all unraveled when I heard another feminine voice, an Assaultron that I couldn't see. "The canine humanoid is not in the group."

I quickly smashed the scrubs head into the back panel of the Sentry Bot. She screamed as the electricity fried her from the inside out and shot her ten feet into the air. She was dead before she hit the ground. Next, I disemboweled the other Raider and threw a grenade into the back panel. While I ran, the man watched his insides fall into the dirt in his drugged stupor and mumbled a single curse before the grenade exploded. Shrapnel ripped his head clean off before the robot began to turn red with heat and exploded violently.

The metal Raider cursed and spat lead from his automatic assault rifle. However, the huge explosion kicked up enough dust to blind him as I used my last Stealth Boy. I heard the Assaultron scanning for me and charging a death ray but I couldn't see it! Pushing forward I expertly decapitated the metal raider and took his gun.

Now back on top of the hill, I witnessed the death ray of a second stealth Assaultron tear a family in half. The Raiders pushed hard and fast, putting the rest of the civi's proverbially to the sword. The eyebots distracted some stragglers while my party was getting mopped up.

They also didn't follow George. I heard gunshots in the direction I wanted everyone to go so Cait and George were going where I needed them. A cold chill came over me as I embraced the emptiness from inside. It was how I nullified my emotions as I howled. People have said the most terrifying thing about me wasn't my dire wolf cloak my great-grandfather kept in the attic, nor when I would snarl playfully; it was the far away look in my eyes as I wore the blood of my enemies. The lack of emotion as I killed in some of the most inhumane ways onlookers ever seen. The unknown void in my soul became my legend, my weapon even.

And ho boy, do these guys deserve it.

I stabbed my sword into the dirt and popped some buffats before tossing a frag at the small group of Protectrons. After that, I unloaded my stolen assault rifle into the surprised faces of the Raiders. I was the last thing they'd never see.

"Canine humanoid detected."

To my left, I saw the red light of a coming death ray, took my sword and rolled forward. The ensuing heat turned the ground under the laser into glass as I emptied my gun into the still invisible robot. I have no idea how much damage I did but I hit it a few times. No where near enough damage though.

I knew it was hot on my tail, I could hear the pistons pumping behind me. The cursed thing had locked onto me through my Stealth Boy. How in the hell do Raiders get two stealth Assaultrons?! Whacking the sword hilt on my leg as I ran, I pressed a button and my sword began to heat up. The whirring of a coming death ray grew louder until my sword was almost burning in my hand.

NOW!

I abruptly pivoted my body with my sword out and impaled the Assaultron through all its armor and electronics. With a metallic groan I spitefully ripped out the sword and hacked its head off. The built up energy released behind me and kicked up a bit of dust.

You know what was the scary thing? The whirring didn't stop. Next thing I knew I was tackled, looking eye to eye with death. He didn't blink, oh no, I told him a morbid joke like I always do and he leaves. No, a familiar Irish voice rolled in with a power fist.

After delivering a haymaker, the energy released. Death's face exploded in red and I laughed. More stories for Vadim, more stories indeed.