Fallout: Fury Blood

Chapter 29: The Liberation Of Dunwich

Kelly's ears were full of Doom-Guy's noxious voice.

"Can't hide from Red Menace."

"Dark Deep will swallow you whole and rip you for eternity."

"Listen to your madness, let it make you strong."

"Clay," she whispered as they slowly walked up the tunnel, her voice echoing. "What's the Red Menace?"

"Isn't that the holotape game?" Hancock interrupted. "Love that damn game..."

Clay-Crawler gave the ghoul a quizzical look, then shook his head and frowned. "Is radi- radition... rads," he struggled with the word, eventually just settling for the shortened version. "Red Menace, in sky, in air. Makes storm, sandstorm, sets fire to blood of earth, sets desert on fire."

Kelly shivered. For some reason, that haunted her. Can't hide from Red Menace. "So it's a rad-sandstorm, out in the desert. And the blood of the earth... the oil spills?"

The raider nodded, a troubled look in his eyes. "Dark Bloods worship earth blood, the black mess. Take for their pools and rituals. Red Claws attack places of earth blood, make them spill free, for Red Menace to zap at-" he made peculiar striking motions with his hands "-set fire to. Dark Bloods go out to stop fire and plug hole. Keeps them busy. Red Claws raid caves and camps, free slaves."

Clan wars, Kelly deduced. Sabotage and guerrilla tactics. It must be a constant warzone out there for territory, overlaid with radioactive sandstorms and lightning that set the desert on fire. It sounded even worse than the Glowing Sea, and that was saying something. "And the Dark Deep?" she then asked reluctantly.

"Place for dead. Underground." He pointed below their feet. "Where the sacrificed and cursed go. Bad place."

So it was the Dark Bloods' form of hell. Good to know...

The moment the three sinners graced the open cavern, Danse and Deacon snapped to, making their way over with expectant faces. Kelly's eyes were helplessly drawn to the Dark Blood handprint that Doom-Guy had left on Danse's chestplate; his last insult. Meeting Danse's eye, she felt sick with shame and promptly averted her gaze.

"Any luck?" Deacon called over.

Kelly didn't spare a glance, instead looking over at the state of the ghoul prisoners as they huddled together for comfort. "He's dead."

"What?" Danse snapped as he came to a halt before them. His demeanor was quick to shift into severity, staring her down with that scowl. She tried not to wince.

Hancock took the reins, donning his talent for sly trickery. "The rat bastard offed himself first chance he got. Said he would help with Dogmeat, so long as we let him down. Next thing we knew, he was slitting his own throat and throwing himself to the Dark Blood."

Danse pinned Hancock with his unwavering glare, soaking that up. It didn't take him long to crack down on them. "Why on earth would you release him in the first place? Hadn't he already shown how conniving he was? Where did he even find a weapon to do that? We searched him thoroughly."

Kelly gave a lost and guilty shake of the head, feeling like a child under parental rebuke, so Hancock carried on the act without missing a beat. "He was fast, came at Clay and pinched his knife." Danse turned his scowl on Clay-Crawler, and the raider blinked widely at the sudden blame. Hancock lowered his voice. "You know what Clay's like-clumsy, a bit slow to catch on sometimes..."