Deuces Are Wild

14

MacCready woke up for the third time that night violently turning onto his side, then his stomach then the other side as though he could thrash his body into submission and make himself sleep. If only he hadn't declined painkillers or sleep aids. Kallie went into a crying jag and Shannon coaxed her into taking a sleeping pill. She was in another tent and it was eerily silent. Somehow that scared him more than listening to her cry. He wished he could comfort her.

But they'd been split apart, although it was easy as walking to another tent to get to her though the armed men patrolling the rows discouraged that. Whatever Davenport was planning, he had no idea. So no cutting and running to tell the Brotherhood even if he didn't care about the Prevent being destroyed as well as his only chance of saving Duncan. Staring at the tent flap as though he had X ray vision he tried to see any movement. That was when he heard it. A whimper. Lifting his head off the pillow he strained to hear. Scuffling. Pushing off the covers he sat up and almost hypnotically he found himself putting on his boots but not bothering with a shirt set out to investigate.

Another voice came from the tent, a low voice, angry and male that blocked out a muffled scream.
MacCready ripped open the tent flaps and just when he did Kallie's assailant let out a yell that cut through the otherwise silent night. Forsaking all promises, forgetting his splinted arm, MacCready dug his fingers into the man's back and pulled him away shouting "You son of a bitch!" at the top of his voice.

The assailant fell backward without much help and MacCready had to step aside. Sobbing with his hand over his mouth, the raider dragged himself away, blood pouring from between his fingers.

Flat on her back with hands shaking, fingers bent like claws with her pants tugged down to her knees and the torn panties, Kallie completed the picture of what had happened here. And what almost happened. Her mouth was bloody and MacCready went to her taking her hand.

"Kallie!" His throat burned with unshed tears.

Turning her head she spat out blood. It dawned on him that it wasn't her blood. She sat up and fixed her clothes, rinsed her mouth with water and spat a few times into an empty can.

MacCready stared at her. He was suddenly aware of his shirtlessness and wished he'd put one on, cursing his laziness. "Do you want me to leave?"

She shook her head "Stay?"

"Are you okay?" he said frantically joining her on the bed. "Did he rape you?"

"He tried."

By now the assailant lay on the floor of the tent gurgling as his life seeped out onto the floor.

"Did you...bite him?"

"His tongue." Kallie sat up and spoke louder for her attacker's benefit. "If his blood doesn't clot and he doesn't get treatment he'll die. It doesn't feel good to be the helpless one, does it?" To MacCready she said "How'd you get here in time?"

"I couldn't sleep and I thought I heard something. Good thing I was awake after all."

She turned down the corner of her bed invitingly. Taking off his boots he joined her. "You sure you're okay?"

"Not like it's the first time."

"Are you serious?"

"People will try to steal anything. Go to sleep."

Kallie recovered quickly. MacCready admired her. She still snuggled up to him as though he were a favorite stuffed toy.

Poor little kitten. Beaten and used. Lately he'd been looking at her with renewed eyes. Before like when he watched her sleep off the moonshine he felt something like pity for Kallie. Pity, and a little contempt. An ignorant wastelander dragged into the Brotherhood of Steel for food and shelter. Kallie had no interest in whatever moral fiber they tried to instill in her or questioned them. Though the Gunners had a strict rank structure too, part of why MacCready left. He hated being told when he could eat and sleep. They fancied themselves professionals but when it came to it they were glorified raiders.