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Fallout Halloween Update
🕑 Added 2023-10-23 06:55:47 +0000 UTC5k words gotta go soon let me know what you guys think!
***
Night had fallen, Cooper losing sight of the distant rocky mountains as the dreary light of dusk lost its strength behind the overcast. His helmet was equipped with a mounted headlamp, and he reached up to turn it on, a pool of yellow light cutting back the darkness wherever he turned his gaze, illuminating the patches of snow interwoven by the occasional rocky outcrop.
The land began to grow uneven, Cooper slipping on the slick surface of a stone more than once on his journey, the power armour saving him from twisting his ankle. It soon became too dark to rely on the headlamp alone, so Cooper decided to make camp for the night.
He set about collecting some kindling, which was in abundance thanks to the trees toughing it out here. There was no need for an axe, Cooper chopping the branches off with his metallic gauntlets, a little like the Shi martialists in San Franciso. He picked a spot at the base of a hill to protect him from the wind, then made a circle of stones in the snow after digging a small hole in the powder. Using his trusty lighter, he blew on the smoking embers until a fire was going, Cooper turning his eyes toward his pack as he warmed his hands.
He had a portable tent stuffed into a bedroll, but the thing was just barely big enough for Cooper to fit inside, and trying to cram inside it with his armour on would be pointless. He considered leaving the suit unoccupied for the night, but if some opportunistic animal decided to make a meal out of him, getting back into the armour might not be possible.
Instead he used his bedroll as a pillow, propping himself up against the nearest tree, holding out his metal hands to the fire. Better to just sleep in the armour and get his body used to the suit. It wasn’t comfortable, Cooper shifting from side to side as he struggled to get some rest, the cold ground below his legs seeping through the armour if he stayed still for long, but he’d camped out in the open long enough that he could push most of the problems aside.
Just a couple more rough nights, and then he could buy a portable house with all the wealth he’d get from Omega’s bounty. No more pitching it in the cold, or renting board at dingy inns with rotting pillows, he’d live like a king of the Wastes, he just had to suck it up for a little bit longer.
With that, he fell into a doze, dreaming of piles of caps surrounded by billowing snow.
***
The tracks continued to follow the stream, the water winding gently from side to side, Cooper’s suit clunking as he walked along the bank. He stopped to refill his canteen again, freeing his long hair as he removed his helmet to drink.
As he popped the cap on the little bottle, he felt the muscles in his shoulders tense up. Cooper knew when he was being watched, he’d been stalking man and beast his whole life, and it was easy to tell which side of the hunt he was on, and right now, it seemed he was balancing both sides.
Something was coming up from behind him, the little tremors in the earth suggesting it was heavy. He looked back down the stream the way he’d come, placing his helmet back on as he scanned between the trees, his eyes soon resting on movement.
There was a figure plodding along the stream, bundled up in what looked like the world’s largest cloak, the fabric bundled up over a set of hunched shoulders, tapering up into a baggy hood. The sleeves were as thick around as his bedroll, the figure placing its arms against its chest like it was praying. The giant cloak left a huge smudge in the snow behind the figure, the fabric dragging along behind it like the hem of a wedding gown.
Cooper narrowed his eyes as the figure drew closer, aiming with his rifle as it came within a stone’s throw of him. They had surely seen him, were they planning on marching right up to him without so much as a greeting?
“That’s close enough,” he called out, lining up his scope with its chest.
The figure stopped, cocking its hooded head at him, as though surprised to see him there. “You been following me or something?” Cooper asked, gesturing at them with his gun.
“Yep,” came a gruff reply. The voice had a husky, feminine contralto to it, deep enough that Cooper could feel each syllable in his bones. It gestured to the ground with a billowy sleeve, Cooper looking over to see his own, blocky footprints in the snow.
“Why?” he asked, faltering a little at the offhand reply.
“Wanted to find out who was shooting up the place,” she replied. “You out here hunting for game?”
“You could say that,” Cooper said, shrugging. “What about you? You always come running every time you hear shooting?”
“When I need to find a bit of excitement, sure. That was an explosive round, wasn’t it? Heard the sound barrier break. Quite unusual to find a hunter with that kind of firepower.”
“Quite unusual to find someone else out in the middle of nowhere,” Cooper shot back. “What’s your business out here?”
She eyed his rifle, which he was still training on her chest.
“I’m just a traveler, I’m on my way to the Abbey.”
“Taking a bit of a detour, aren’t you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her. “Roads through Vault City still work, last I saw.”
“The ones clogged with raiders? Yeah I think I’ll take my chances out here. A lady traveling by herself draws the wrong kind of attention, if you catch my drift.”
“You look like you could lift a car, doubt you’d have trouble with raiders,” he noted, gesturing at her bulky frame. She was nine or ten feet tall easy, though it was hard to judge her exact size with the cloak.
“You’d be surprised how often Mutants get jumped out on the road. Peple think we’re not so tough after the Master died.”
“You’re a Super Mutant?”
Cooper didn’t know the specifics, but Super Mutants were humans who’d been exposed to some sort of special irradiated virus that turned them into big, green killing machines, at the cost of their mental aptitude. There had once been thousands of them infesting the west coast, but after their leader was assassinated, the legions had dispersed into the Wastes, and were rarely seen in the more populated areas.
“That’d explain why you’re so… big,” he muttered.
“Some silver tongue you have, stranger,” she replied with a chuckle. “But yep, that’s me, got skin so thick I’d give your explosives bullets a run for their money. That’s not a challenge by the way, please don’t ruin my favourite robe.”
She didn’t seem like a threat, and she wouldn’t have approached him so brazenly if she’d wanted to attack him, so he lowered his rifle, the Mutant relaxing as she shifted on the spot.
“Sorry about the gun,” he said. “You know which way the Abbey is, yeah?”
“Same direction as you, conveniently,” she replied. “You wouldn’t mind if I tagged along, would you? The way is cold, and I could use some company.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Cooper said. “I’m hunting a pack of dangerous animals, you might spook them off.”
“And that tin can suit of yours won’t?” She planted a long arm on a hip, gesturing at him with the other. “You’re lumbering around like a rhino in that thing, could hear you from a mile off.”
“Rhino?” he asked, giving her a confused look.
“A creature from before the Bombs,” she explained. “Big, heavy, thick horn on the front.” She mimed at her forehead.
“Weird,” he replied. “but I guess you have a point. Can’t guarantee we’ll be walking all the way to the Abbey, but you can come along, just don’t make too much noise.”
“I’ll be as silent as a rat,” the strange woman replied, bringing her voice down to a mock-whisper. Truth be told she was unusually quiet for such a large creature, only the subtle thumps of her steps giving her away in the first place.
“This way, then,” he said, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. He continued up the stream, his new companion hurrying to catch up to his side. She was even larger up close, Cooper having to crane his neck back to look her in the eyes, not that he could even see her eyes, her thick hood got in the way.
“I’m Cooper by the way,” he started.
“Pearl,” she answered, turning her head down at him. “What’s with that look? It’s better than what the Master gave me. XJ38 doesn’t roll off the tongue as well as Pearl does.”
“Guessing you’re from the coast, then?” he asked, making small talk. “Haven’t seen many pearls in my day.”
“You could say that,” she replied, Cooper getting the feeling that she didn’t want to elaborate further. “So what’re you hunting, exactly?” she said, gesturing at the tracks in the snow. “Must be some pretty dangerous game if you need to use a suit like that.”
“Escaped livestock,” he explained, seeing no harm in indulging her. “There’s a hunting lodge a ways south of here, and some premium goods got loose. The proprietor hired me to hunt them down.”
“Kill or capture?”
“Either or, except for the biggest one. Mister Hendrix wants his ‘Omega’ alive, said it was his magnum opus of goods.”
“Sounds exotic,” Pearl commented. “You a hunter by trade, I’m guessing?”
“Taken hundreds of bounties in my lifetime,” he said. “Humans, animals, but nothing like this, this Omega is part of a pack of clawed reptiles that can shred through steel and shrug off bullets.”
“And how are you, alone, going to take on a pack of them? Not with just that peashooter, I hope?”
“No, with this.”
He pulled off the syringer from his belt, holding it out for Pearl to see. “This thing fires darts full of tranquilizer, I’ve been told just three does is enough to bring down one of the beasts.”
Pearl didn’t seem that impressed, in fact, she snorted, beginning her next sentence with a girlish giggle. “That old thing? It looks like a toy gun!”
“Only way to bring Omega down without killing it,” Cooper continued, ignoring her comment. “Less painful than a bullet too, at least I think so.”
“How considerate of you,” she muttered.
“I’m considerate of the reward,” he answered. “Mister Hendrix will cut my pay down to scraps if I bring back damaged goods, but I may have to resort to that if this thing outwits me like it did to Hendrix’s people. It figured out how to bust through a cage that was padded with materials resistant to cutting, then knew that the fence was electric, and stole a valuable part off a generator to make sure it couldn’t be easily repaired.”
“Doesn’t sound like mere livestock to me,” she said. “It must be an intelligent creature, aware of its surroundings.”
“Beasts aren’t aware,” Cooper insisted. “they can be as big and clever as they want, but Omega is still a wild animal, it’ll make a meal out of anything it sees if it’s hungry.”
“How many has it killed?” she asked.
“None, as far as I know, it avoided every guard on duty when it escaped.”
“Why would a wild animal not rip into the first man it saw once free?”
“Who knows?” he asked with a shrug, his suit whirring. “It’s smart, but we’ll see how much that helps it with a bloodstream full of sedatives.”
***
The midday sun shone down on the pair as they crested a hump of snow, barely a measure of warmth filtering through the rolling clouds. His towering companion walked alongside him, hopping deftly over the occasional outcrop without breaking her stride. She was pretty limber for such a stout Mutant.
“How’d you get into the whole hunting business?” Pearl asked, turning to watch him hop over a tree root.
“By accident, really. My home, Shady Sands, was being harassed by a mantis sneaking into the coops at night to eat the brahmin. I happened upon the insect one night when I was out with some friends, shot it clean through the head. Next thing I know, the bounty on it was mine. It was a pretty profitable career at the time, so I learned how to find tracks, locate nests, things like that from Old World manuals.”
“You’re from NCR, then?” she asked, cocking her head as she examined him. “That’s a long way to walk for a pack of escaped livestock.”
“I said the same thing when Hendrix’s rep approached me. I was in the bar when this guy in a suit turned up, asking for me specifically. Told me about how his boss had a problem I could solve, and said the reward would be more caps than I could ever hope to spend.”
“And you believed him?”
“I was skeptical, sure, but then he straight up paid for the drinks of every single patron, including mine. I was a little more inclined after that, and now Hendrix has offered me three thousand caps for Omega’s return. Couldn’t pass it up.”
“You said hunting was a profitable career,” Pearl said, her cloak dragging through the powder as they moved down the slope. “What changed?”
“NCR did. As the population grew, the security around the borders did too, and before long every ant, gecko and mantis in a twenty-five-mile radius had been culled, and the work was drying up. Had to start taking jobs for hunting people, since we humans started to outnumber the animals.”
“Did you pick and choose who you killed? Or was no price too small for you?”
“Well, I… I’m not a raider in disguise, if that’s what you’re getting at,” he replied, a touch of uncertainty in his tone. “Plenty of people wanted a few deadbeats roughened up, debts collected. Paid well, but that kind of work wasn’t for me.”
“Nice to hear you have some standards,” she commented. “Is it easier or harder to hunt humans compared to animals?”
“The skills translated better than I’d thought, the biggest problem is that your targets like to shoot back.”
“You don’t seem all that bothered about killing people.”
“The whole world died once already, killing raiders and deadbeats is pretty trivial in comparison.”
“I suppose that’s one way of looking at things.”
They continued on for a few minutes in silence, the wind whispering through the grooves in his helmet, Cooper eventually breaking it. “How about you, Pearl? Tell me something about your time in the Master’s army.”
“A lot of it is… fuzzy,” she replied, the sound of scratching reaching his ears as she lifted a hand to her face. “I remember there being a strong sense of love, and devotion, but after the Master died, everything got replaced by a kind of… emptiness. I wandered the Wastes as a confused mess for a while, until I came across a place called Gecko. They welcomed me with open arms, even after they discovered what I was. Guess the Mutants didn’t expand that far north.”
“And, do you remember anything about being a human?” he asked. “Mutants are former humans, right?”
“Remembering that far back would be like trying to hold melting snow in my hand,” Pearl said. “But, whoever I was doesn’t matter now, I’m me, and right now, me can use a break.”
“We have been walking for a while now,” he relented, his stomach rumbling beneath the power armour. “Let’s find some place out of the wind.”
They soon came upon a jagged outcropping of limestone, shaped like a giant tooth that poked up out of the snowy blanket, Cooper and Pearl putting the stone between them and the direction the wind was coming from. They sat down to rest, Cooper watching as Pearl’s excess cloak piled up by her feet, the Super Mutant shifting from side to side to get comfortable.
He rummaged through his pack for one of his ration parcels, untying the hairy string and producing a leg of roasted mirelurk, leftovers from the night in the lodge. He reached up and removed his helmet, setting it down in the snow, Cooper feeling Pearl’s eyes playing over his features. He had long, fair-coloured hair that was in dire need of a cut, as well as a bit of matching stubble on his chin, interrupted by a thin, faded scar trailing over his left cheek. Maybe it was the fact she was hidden beneath that cloak, but her lingering stare made him a little self-conscious.
Soon her eyes played over his meal as he brought the seafood to his lips. It wasn’t as good as it had been during the feast, and was colder than ice, but it sated the grumbling of his stomach and left a lingering taste of salt in his mouth.
“I thought hunters were supposed to share the spoils of a kill?” Pearl asked, Cooper raising his brow as he watched her eyes sparkle, doing a double-take when he realised he could see her eyes. They were large and bright, the same colour as the setting sun, the two points slightly lidded by the top of her hood.
“With other hunters, maybe,” he replied as he chewed. “Didn’t you bring anything for your trip?”
“I ran out,” she explained, though calling that an explanation was being generous.
“So will I if I start sharing,” he said, Pearl continuing to watch him eat in silence. Cooper sighed, handing her the rest of the leg, his companion swiping it from his extended hand. She lifted her long sleeves to her head, her large eyes disappearing behind the wooly fabric, Cooper hearing the muffled sound of chewing.
“Don’t start thinking I’m giving out Super Mutant-sized rations,” he chided as Pearl laid her arms out on her knees, apparently done eating the leg, bones and all.
“If I start to feel like eating you, Cooper, I’ll let you know,” she chuckled, Cooper looking up at her in alarm. “Relax,” she added. “Mutants don’t eat people. Actually that’s not true, but I’m an exception. Humans are too stringy anyway.”
“How would you know that? You just said you’re an exception.”
“It’s easy to tell what kind of flesh something has. Take you, for example,” she said, her eyes returning to view as she looked him up and down. “Humans are mostly sinew, but you’re a little different, bit more muscle on you I’m guessing, given your… demanding lifestyle. Can’t tell much more with that tin suit of yours.”
“Unless you feel like giving me food, Pearl, the armour stays on.”
She laughed at that. It had been so long since he’d had a travelling companion that could take a joke, it was refreshing.
“So you’re heading up the Abbey, right?” he asked, crossing his arms over his metal chest. “Biggest library in the Wastes, so I’ve heard. You like books?”
“Oh yes!” she replied with an enthusiastic nod. “They wrote so many interesting things in the Old World, stories of mythical creatures, ancient figure biographies, pre-Bomb histories... I like to check the Abby every now and then to see if they’ve stocked anything new.”
“Prefer reading manuals and guides myself,” Cooper said. “things more practical than that… made up, theoretical stuff.”
“Just because something’s not practical, doesn’t mean it’s useless,” she defended. “Theoretical stuff inspires ideas, and without ideas, there’d be nothing to apply your skills to. Don’t tell me you’ve never stayed up late reading a nice romantic novel?”
“I’ve lost sleep to actually useful books, like this,” he said, Pearl watching as he rummaged through his pack. He pulled out a thin pamphlet, the bright orange cover drawing his companion’s attention. The silhouette of a hiker was printed onto the front, a walking stick clutched in one of its hands.
“A Scout handbook?” Pearl muttered. “I’ve seen a couple stocked on the Abbey’s shelves, never read it before…”
Shrugging, he handed it over, Pearl taking the handbook gingerly from his hands, like she was afraid of damaging it. She opened it up to a random page, bringing it up to her hood to read. “I like the font,” she cooed. “The margins are little out of line, but… what’s this?” she asked, turning the cover over so he could see what she was looking at. “Did you cross this part out?”
“Yeah. That bit’s completely incorrect for surviving the Wastes.”
“But you vandalized it!” she pouted. “That’s history you’re erasing.”
“Hey I corrected it, see the little box in the corner there?” He pointed at his personal note scribbled into the margin, Pearl grumbling as she read off the words.
“I guess that’s okay, but you could have made a copy and kept this one pristine. The people at the Abbey would fine you if you defiled their books like this.”
“Guess I don’t feel as strongly about them as you do,” he admitted.
“Books are precious, they are mediums that those in the past create to teach lessons for the future. It’s a shame that hardly nobody outside of the Abbey was even tried to inherit the art of creating more for the Wasteland.”
“Maybe I should make one,” he chuckled. “Maybe call it, Cooper’s Guide to Getting Rich.”
“You’re joking around, but that’s not a bad idea. You have a modern skillset on hunting, and you might gain some valuable insight if you somehow manage to take down this pack of yours.”
“You don’t think I can do it?” he asked.
“Not with that dented armour and needle gun of yours,” she said. “Not to paint you a grim picture or anything, but something as tough and clever as what you’ve described would need several armoured-up hunters.”
“We’ll see about that. I’ve taken on whole packs of critters by myself, I work better alone.”
With their meal done, Cooper got to his feet, his armour creaking as he collected his pack. As he led the way, he turned to see Pearl was reading his handbook as she followed after, shielding the pages with her cloak to protect it from the snow.
“Wow, these notes go into great detail,” she commented. “Did you learn all your skills from this?”
“Mostly. A few old timers from Shady Sands threw me some tips, but yeah, pretty useful thing. That handbook’s saved me a lot of trouble in the past.”
“Do you mind if I keep it? For a while, I mean?” she added. “I’ve always wondered how humans hunt for game, Mutants generally just wander around and shoot anything that moves, there’s no finesse.”
“Sure,” he said, getting the feeling she was beaming at him from beneath that hood. “Just don’t break it, and don’t pull the pages by the corners, it’ll rip.”
“I’ll be careful, pinky promise.”
***
It wasn’t very long before Pearl’s investment in the handbook became an obsession, and she started begging Cooper to teach her the finer details of hunting and tracking, and he eventually relented after a while. It was almost endearing in a way, seeing this giant Mutant solider enraptured by his words, eagerly quizzing him as the hours ticked by.
“But how do you know the pack came this way?” Pearl asked, gesturing at the ground around them. “We haven’t seen any tracks for at least an hour now.”
“It’s only natural to assume they’d keep following the river,” Cooper replied, waving a hand at the water on their left. “It’s a source of food and water, obviously, and animals tend to stay close to them during the colder months. Ah, see that?”
As if to prove his point, there were prints in the snow ahead, trailing out of the water, exactly six sets of them. Cooper took a knee in the powder, hovering his hand above a print he knew to belong to Omega. “Looks like they trudged through the river at some point, maybe to bathe, or…”
“Or throw off pursuers?” Pearl suggested, hunkering beside him. Even on her knees she towered over him.
“That’s a bit of a stretch, wouldn’t you say? Most animals aware enough to know they’re being hunted would either flee, or turn and fight.”
“But this Omega isn’t like most animals, true?”
“Yeah, you’re right about that.” He peered closer to the tracks, chewing his lip in thought. “Looks like they stayed here for a while, we’re only two or three days behind them.”
“How’d you figure that?”
“These prints are softer than the ones I was following yesterday, and there’s a bit of disturbed snow behind them, see? Tracks will start to freeze after a couple days, and that hasn’t happened yet.”
“But you haven’t even touched them!” Pearl replied. “How can you know if they’re soft or hard?”
“I’ve been doing this for a long time,” he said, his pauldrons creaking as he shrugged. “It takes time and practice, but you learn to pick up the little things.”
“I see, I see.” Pearl turned to examine his handbook, splayed out in one of her hands. “You have a pen?”
“Penicil, yeah.” He fished through his one of the pockets. “Why?”
She didn’t answer, taking his pencil and flipping to the back of the handbook, beginning to scribble on the blank page. How she managed to write with that giant sleeve in the way was anyone’s guess.
“Hey!” he said, reaching up to grab his handbook. “What are you doing?”
“Making you a new section,” she answered, easily holding the handbook out of his reach. “You have nothing in here about this pack, so let’s change it!”
“Oh, so when I write in it, that’s vandalizing, but not when you do it? That sounds fair.”
“I’m adding to it,” she insisted. “And unlike you, I know how to write in a straight line. Now let’s see, we’ll need to give this pack a name. Any ideas?”
“What about… Omega Pack? Simple, straightforward.”
“Okay, okay.” Pearl jotted down the name, tapping the pencil against the handbook as she thought. “What about the species itself? Any distinguishing characteristics we could base a name off of?”
“Well they’ve got some pretty wicked claws on them, maybe something about that?”
“I thought you said you’ve never seen the pack before? Let me guess, you can tell by the tracks?”
“Yep, see the little indents in front of each toe?”
“No?” Pearl said, leaning close enough to the ground she could have licked the snow with her tongue. “Oh wait, now I do. You have some pretty keen eyes, my man.”
“If they have talons, they probably have claws, as well. Witnesses as the lodge said so as well. Won’t know anything else till I find them.”
“Let’s recap. They’re resilient, clawed, incredibly dangerous and deviously clever. Let’s call them…” She paused, then raised a triumphant hand after a moment of thinking. “Oh! What about… killerclaws! Eh? No good?”
“Too on the nose,” he said.
“How about deathjaws? Assuming they have big, nasty teeth of course.”
“Sure, use that. And since you’re writing, jot this down too: Deathjaw: carnivorous, reptilian, natural predator, pack mentality. Height, maybe nine to eleven feet from head to toe. Weight, roughly…” He glanced closer at the print. “Six, seven hundred pounds.”
“Fat thing,” Pearl commented. “You can tell by how deep the tracks are, right?”
“Yeah, that and the cages they were kept in. Think that’s everything I know about them so far.”
“You forgot about their intellect,” Pearl added, pointing the pencil at him.
“Write keen,” he said, but Pearl shook her head, her hood swishing.
“I’m gonna put… diabolically keen,” she said, Cooper rolling his eyes as she jotted it down. “There’s a word you don’t see often.”
With their lead rediscovered, they set off once more, the sun beginning to lower in the sky, turning what patches of the sky visible into strips of gold. Pearl continued to add things to the deathjaw part of the handbook, but he was too focused on watching for movement to ask her about what she was writing down.
“Let’s say you bring down this Omega Pack,” Pearl began. “Whatcha gonna do with the reward money? You could buy stacks of books with three thousand caps.”
“And spend my days reading till I died? Not a terrible plan, but I think spending it all so I can live like a saint in New Reno would be better.”
“New Reno?” she scoffed. “the shittest little city in the world? Or was it biggest little city? I can never remember. You’re just going to blow it all on their cheap moonshine and hookers?”
“Why not? They’ve got heated rooms, soft beds, and New Reno women aren’t cheap.”
“I’d never buya night with someone,” Pearl said. “Making love is about connecting with someone you care about, it’s an act where passion is the goal, not the other person’s wallet.”
“You’ve been reading too much poetry,” Cooper said, feeling a little more insulted than he should have. “People like me, we go on the road for days, weeks at a time without any human contact, we don’t have the time to go on dates and woo someone we like.”
“Sounds like an issue of skill, rather than a lack of time,” Pearl replied, Cooper hearing the grin in her voice.
“Well… it’s not like I have a ton of practice out in the wild,” he said, stretching his shoulder awkwardly. “And I’m never in one place for very long, so nothing really… develops.”
“Is the little hunter feeling lonely?” she teased, Cooper feeling his cheeks warm beneath the helmet. “Don’t worry, Cooper, I’ll be your friend.”
She leaned over and bumped shoulders with him, the blow hard enough to send Cooper reeling, even with the power armour. Pearl had to be pretty strong to almost knock his frame off-kilter.
