Fallout: Fury Blood

Chapter 121: Stuck On You

The Initiate had visited the Feedlot many times now to dine on the flesh of slaves, enduring Chop-Guy's megalomania and the murderous brawls, but each time he forced himself to participate in the daily ritual of cannibalism, he never found sweet Sivin. It was growing more and more difficult to recall her face, the lovely heart shape of it, the doleful green eyes, the red rosebud lips. Each morning, waking from his trough of soggy clay and filth, he forced himself to remember those features to prevent himself forgetting them. Was it the radiation eating away at his memory? The incurable fatigue? That blood parasite worming into his brain? Her long pale hair and full body were easier to keep in his memory, however.

Often, when Third-Degree let him be and he was left alone to rest in the dark chambers of the Crypt, he found himself wondering about her hair, how it was still so long and lush, and her body, so curvaceous, when all other slaves were reduced to hairless, fleshless wretches by the relentless radiation in the caves. Her rich master must treat her to ample doses of anti-rads to keep her nubile in order to better service him.

Being pretty had it's benefits, as he had personally discovered. He was favored and protected by the Master Torturer himself, kept separate from the other slaves, bathed and treated of his wounds by the torture acolytes, and even allowed to play games with the young Rabies once in a rare while, though for some reason, he still had yet to receive his specimen mutation. He wondered about that a lot. He wasn't favored enough to be given Radaway, but the native Moondrops on his tongue each night sufficed to keep the radiation poisoning at bay.

Baby-Face had become his new raider name, despite never actually earning the right to it by partaking in the Screaming Craters Games. Even lowly slaves could join and earn a name, though the honor lacked the respect that raiders earned with their name grants. No, he earned his name mockingly. Though it was true enough, he did have full round cheeks and large, pining eyes. It was something he had taken for granted as a youngster, always scoring extra food and knick-knacks from travelling caravans passing by his father's farm, and the girls had been easier to come by, even despite his shyness. Most seemed endeared by it.

He suspected it was the reason Grace quickly took pity on him. The Brotherhood recruits were boasting ranks of try-hards, hotheads, and grim-faced desperados, and he was the butt of many a joke. Until she came along and took him under her wing. Grace was training to be a soldier, too. Always aloof, oozing self confidence, she was the top-dog of the underdogs, sticking it to the macho ruffians. Most of the boys in their platoon were in love with her, even the ruffians. But she chose Baby-Face.

Sivin had certainly enjoyed his baby face. Why else would she have taken it upon herself to approach him that time and ward him off being a hero? He told himself that it was for the better that he never saw her again, because he was still in love with Grace, and because the raider masters would only take notice of their closeness and use the girl against him. Just like they had with Mole.

"You gotta forget about me, kid. I'm a lost cause. Won't be long now." Mole was huddled on the dirt floor, his loose tatters of clothing soiled by the skin that rotted and sloughed off by the day in wet rags.

The Initiate stared over at him from his side of the metal bars. "You don't know you'll go feral. You've just psyched yourself out." They were keeping the two of them together now. All the more chance to grow a deeper bond. One that will only hurt the more. Still, the Initiate couldn't help it by now, he already felt a kinship with the Ghoul. "Besides, going ghoul ain't so bad. You'll be immune to radiation. No more feeling like crap like the rest of us. Instead you'll feel good. And you'll get to live for hundreds of years."

With the way Mole's face was peeling off and turning to a gruel uglier than what Chop-Guy cooked, it was hard to determine what expression he was pulling. "If I live long enough to see the outside of these caves again. And with the way this world is, who would want to live in it for hundreds of years? One lifetime is long enough."