Fallout: Fury Blood

Chapter 96: Woes Of War

Wingbeats pervaded the thunder overhead. He was being followed. Danse carried Kelly under the twin threats of the looming storm clouds and the mysterious beast that haunted the skies of the canyons. It was difficult to be sure through the rolls of storm, but it sounded as though the thing were swooping over the canyon tops, searching for a passage wide enough to permit it's entry and prey on their flesh.

Peering upward only gave him a vague hint of it's presence through the dark swirls of sand rushing above the canyon from the plateau to the North. Mingled through the sparks of lightning were pinpricks of cobalt light, reminding him of the electric arrows Kelly had wielded in the battle. Were the tribals keeping the beast at bay? Why had they not come to assist them in battle?

Danse cringed each time his heavy stride jostled Kelly's slack body, her neck craning back at an unnatural angle and head snapping against the air. But he dare not decrease his pace for the beast or weather to take advantage. Droplets of rain were clinking into his armor plates, then sizzling. Sizzling. He glanced at his shoulder guard to witness the metal corroding before his eyes. Acid rain. Outstanding. Not only could the rain in this godforsaken land rust his armor, it now disintegrated it.

He curled Kelly up into a tight ball and carried her underarm like he would his helmet, shielding her from the rains. It may result in her having a crimp in her back when she woke, but it was the least she deserved after making him chase her across the desert.

He took her to the only safe haven he knew in the canyon, a small cave huddled into an alcove behind a humble waterfall no more impressive than Arthur without his beard and battlecoat. As he uncrimped the woman from under his arm and settled her gently into his sleeping roll, his adrenaline fell flat at the prospect of finally having her safely under his protection. He only then became aware of the pain dripping into his shoulders, neck and back. The acid was eating through his armor seals and burning his skin.

Yanking off his helmet, he winced as he positioned his power armor over Kelly as a protective wall between her and the cave entrance, and hurriedly freed himself from the suit. The separation of skin from the padded framing felt as though it tore off the first few layers of his flesh, and Danse bit down on a louder wince. His long-sleeved shirt came off next with a high degree of difficulty, peeling away the last top layers of his skin that his armor frame hadn't taken. That wince was impossible to keep down. The knife wound under his collar bone pounded sickeningly, and a wave of vertigo took him momentarily before he could steady himself against the rock wall.

All of it was worth it now that Kelly was safe. Sleep had been on the back burner during his tireless search for her. How many days awake he had gone now, he had lost count. Half a week? The estimation would suffice. Long enough to officially be declared unfit for duty and at risk of insanity.

He cast his eyes to Kelly, the madwoman who had gone to battle against an entire cave of madmen. She had far surpassed the risk of insanity-she was insanity. But she was alive. He wanted nothing more than to dump his weary body against that of his madwoman's and lose consciousness with her, but not only was his anger with her recent string of actions still burning hot, but the uncertainty of her mental state held him off. She had attacked him in those caves and violently resisted his efforts to calm her. Now he knew how she had felt those nights when he would wake from his night terrors and become a threat to her safety. They were both liable to wake and kill each other simultaneously. A tragically poetic end to their equally tragic odyssey.

Ignoring his raw wounds and his need for sustenance, Danse allowed himself to topple against the cold cave floor and drift away.

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