The Captive
Apr. 22nd, 2009 10:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aaaaaaaagh_skyEllen slipped through the Milliways door and back into the heat of a Wasteland late summer. It was jarring in more ways than one. Aside from having to make the instant transition from Milliways' relative safety to the constant danger of the Wasteland, she couldn't help but compare what she was seeing to the cityscape Mills had shown her. Hot, dry- even this close to the remains of the river- dusty, empty...
"Help!" came a thin, strained voice from somewhere up ahead along the riverside. "Oh, God, please, somebody help me!"
Maybe not so empty as all that. Ellen stepped away from the muddy patch where the mutant and the... thing with the tongues... lay dead, and jogged towards the source of the voice. There were a handful of wrecked rusty trucks up ahead along the river, clustered into a circle at the top of a small rise. As she drew nearer, a smell tickled at her nostrils- rancid and almost sweet at the same time, like meat dropped somewhere warm and forgotten. She did her best to block it out, but the smell grew more overwhelming as she approached. There was a gap between two of the trucks; she eased herself through-
"Oh God," she squeaked at the sight of the crude net bags full of bloody something she absolutely refused to look any closer at, and proceeded to throw up.
After a while, there was nothing left in her stomach. Ellen didn't dare straighten just yet, for fear of finding more of those bags waiting. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and called out, "Is anyone here?"
"Please! Over here!" came the same voice as before. Ellen managed a quick glance in the voice's direction; there was a tent pitched at the far side of the circle of trucks. Gamely, she pushed herself to her feet. Not looking up, she told herself. Not going to look up. Not going to think about the oh God I have to throw up again...
Eventually, though, she made it to the tent. Inside there were several stacked ammunition boxes, an old, rusty footlocker, and a crude sleeping pallet far too large to be normal. A dark-skinned woman clad in the same sort of brahmin leathers as the people of Megaton was huddled in one corner; she heaved a hiccuping sob and murmured, "Please-"
"It's all right," said Ellen, and darted forward. There were ropes tied around the woman's hands so tightly they were digging into her flesh. "The mutant's dead now."
"Oh thank God," the woman said fervently as Ellen started working at it with her knife. "I don't- I don't know what they wanted me for, I don't want to know."
"They weren't going to kill you?" Ellen said, blinking.
"I don't think so," said the woman, rubbing at her wrists. "They had the chance plenty of times... oh, that's so much better. Thank you. I don't know how to thank you, other than with this- I was able to stash these before they caught me-"
She came up with a pair of stimpaks and a holotape, holding them out. Ellen shook her head. "I think you need those," she said soberly. "What's on the tape, though?"
"I don't know," the woman admitted. "I was scavving for food in the ruins east of here when I got captured. It was lying next to a skeleton. I don't have any way of listening to it- you're welcome to it if you want."
"Sure," said Ellen. "But you definitely should keep the stimpaks. Is your home near here? Do you need an escort?"
"Bethesda, north of here," the woman said. "If I can just get a gun and some ammo I'll be okay. I got careless when the muties found me, that's all."
Ellen nodded and knelt next to the footlocker, pulling out her screwdriver and bobby pins.
"Help!" came a thin, strained voice from somewhere up ahead along the riverside. "Oh, God, please, somebody help me!"
Maybe not so empty as all that. Ellen stepped away from the muddy patch where the mutant and the... thing with the tongues... lay dead, and jogged towards the source of the voice. There were a handful of wrecked rusty trucks up ahead along the river, clustered into a circle at the top of a small rise. As she drew nearer, a smell tickled at her nostrils- rancid and almost sweet at the same time, like meat dropped somewhere warm and forgotten. She did her best to block it out, but the smell grew more overwhelming as she approached. There was a gap between two of the trucks; she eased herself through-
"Oh God," she squeaked at the sight of the crude net bags full of bloody something she absolutely refused to look any closer at, and proceeded to throw up.
After a while, there was nothing left in her stomach. Ellen didn't dare straighten just yet, for fear of finding more of those bags waiting. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and called out, "Is anyone here?"
"Please! Over here!" came the same voice as before. Ellen managed a quick glance in the voice's direction; there was a tent pitched at the far side of the circle of trucks. Gamely, she pushed herself to her feet. Not looking up, she told herself. Not going to look up. Not going to think about the oh God I have to throw up again...
Eventually, though, she made it to the tent. Inside there were several stacked ammunition boxes, an old, rusty footlocker, and a crude sleeping pallet far too large to be normal. A dark-skinned woman clad in the same sort of brahmin leathers as the people of Megaton was huddled in one corner; she heaved a hiccuping sob and murmured, "Please-"
"It's all right," said Ellen, and darted forward. There were ropes tied around the woman's hands so tightly they were digging into her flesh. "The mutant's dead now."
"Oh thank God," the woman said fervently as Ellen started working at it with her knife. "I don't- I don't know what they wanted me for, I don't want to know."
"They weren't going to kill you?" Ellen said, blinking.
"I don't think so," said the woman, rubbing at her wrists. "They had the chance plenty of times... oh, that's so much better. Thank you. I don't know how to thank you, other than with this- I was able to stash these before they caught me-"
She came up with a pair of stimpaks and a holotape, holding them out. Ellen shook her head. "I think you need those," she said soberly. "What's on the tape, though?"
"I don't know," the woman admitted. "I was scavving for food in the ruins east of here when I got captured. It was lying next to a skeleton. I don't have any way of listening to it- you're welcome to it if you want."
"Sure," said Ellen. "But you definitely should keep the stimpaks. Is your home near here? Do you need an escort?"
"Bethesda, north of here," the woman said. "If I can just get a gun and some ammo I'll be okay. I got careless when the muties found me, that's all."
Ellen nodded and knelt next to the footlocker, pulling out her screwdriver and bobby pins.