Spore Batch 06--"People and Animals, Part II

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I would like to think I am a helpful sort of fellow. I looked after and cared for a group of strangers as they slept for over 50 years, hoping and believing that one day they would wake up and be able to help humanity rebuild from the devastation that nuclear war had brought to the world. Today, a much smaller evil—but evil nonetheless—unfolded right outside my doorstep, and I was unable to help.

When the spore packets began rolling back in, I watched in horror at what was happening to the community that had just recently reached out to me, the plucky survivors that had embraced my teammates as friends. Ensconced safely in the solitude of the Bolthole, immune from the ravages of nuclear weapons and the screams of the innocent just beyond my vault door, I puttered around, blithely oblivious to the unfolding plight of my neighbors. When I finally saw the events unfolding, I wanted to abandon the feed and rush out to aid them, but knew that the events I was witnessing were likely hours old already, and the fates of my new friends were already sealed. I watched on until the conclusion to see if there was anything I could do to help in the present, or if my only resort would be to offer my aid in exacting vengeance.

Day 12

The shrill scream of Callie Nevers inside the farmhouse brought everyone in the group to full alert. They rushed inside to see what the commotion was and found the young woman in the farmer’s bedroom. She had blood on her hands, and the man lay curled up in the bed in a large pool of blood. His skin was ashen, long slits dressed the inside of his forearms from wrist to elbow. There were also small cuts to his fingers, probably from the shard of glass in the bedding that he used to take his own life.

I will have to admit, suicide is a particularly human phenomenon that I have never understood. Perhaps this lack of understanding speaks to my own inhumanity, but I cannot comprehend it. I understand self-sacrifice well enough, and would lay down my own life without hesitation if it was the only way to save a member of my team, but if I were to embrace self-destruction because my situation in life was untenable, I would be forfeiting any chance I might have in the future to make it better. Perhaps someday I will better understand the farmer’s motives, but I can never see myself following his path. As of this writing, I know I can experience sadness—or at least something like it—but I find it fills me with a much different drive than the desire to end my existence in this world.

Freya rushed Callie to a nearby stream to clean the blood off of her and to use the shock of the cold water to try and calm her hysteria. Jock determined that the farmer was beyond his ability to help. Had I been there, I may have been able to revive him, but it would have been dicey, at best, and would have used valuable medicines that may be difficult (if not impossible) to replace. It is a terrible conundrum to have to gauge the value of material resources against the value of one who has disregarded the worth of his own life. Perhaps it is cowardly to admit that I am relieved I didn’t have to make the choice, but I am also relieved my teammates did not have to make the choice, either. Upon determining there was nothing that could be done, Riley gathered up the body, and carried it to one of the nearby graves, laying him to rest before his daughter awoke and complicated things.

While these tasks were completed, Sir Segway rolled up on the farm, catching the attention of MARS, who stood guard over all the chaos and drama. With his business taken care of at Blue Mount and the team overdue to meet him, he had left to see if he could find out what had become of them. I was able to tell him they were on their way to assuage his concerns, though I’m not sure he truly had any; he seems a bit peculiar when it comes to personal safety. Though, I suppose surviving as long as he has in the wasteland may have colored his perspective about what is truly dangerous in this world. I also asked him to relay a message that I would like to speak with them upon their return. Freya took note of the fact that Sir Segway had approached from the same direction the raiders had departed, and asked if he had passed anyone on the road. He claimed that he did not. Freya then engaged in some back-and-forth with his trusty mule, Maria. Whatever she learned from the beast of burden looked to get her mental gears turning, and she formulated a plan for when they hit the road. She clearly had scores to settle.

The sun had long since set, and most of the group was exhausted. They settled down for a night’s sleep to figure out how to deal with the farm’s sole survivor in the morning.

Day 13

During the night, MARS received several transmissions: orbital reconnaissance images. Though the resolution was not the best due to the occultation from the black clouds of the Cinder, the short series of images were clear enough to show multiple heat sources approaching Blue Mount. With darkness still in full swing and the settlement still several hours away, MARS was forced to make a judgment call, which probably sprained a logic processor. He chose to allow his weary teammates a chance to rest and inform them of this intel in the morning.

The team was understandably alarmed by this information, but they were not sore at MARS for not telling them straight away in the middle of the night; there was little they could have done at the time, and the knowledge likely only would have robbed them of much-needed rest. A plan was hastily drawn up to minimize the travel time. Jock was prepared to build a rudimentary wagon to aid in their rapid travel until he found a small cart in the barn. Callie told Freya that she could stay at the farm with the girl in case she awoke, and with the Squidge nearby, they should be plenty safe. Sir Segway put Maria to work pulling the cart, and the team departed in haste at a double-time march, rotating their numbers between pacing the cart and riding in the back. They were able to make it to Blue Mount before midday, almost exhausted. As they approached, they heard the sounds of gunfire and screaming, and all signs of weariness left them as they jumped into the fray.

They saw a mob of Raiders swarming throughout the settlement. They were engaged in a frantic melee with several able-bodied locals and some members of nearby Rattle Farm! My teammates, the veritable cavalry in this battle, swept in and gave a fine account of themselves. Freya’s animal companions were not idle, either, with Kuro swooping in with a vengeance and Sirius bowling over at least one bandit and taking him out of the fight. Sir Segway slalomed around on his two-wheeled steed, skewering one raider after the other with his fearsome iron lance, until finally pinning one against a brick wall like a rapacious bug against a corkboard. Unable to free his weapon, he abandoned it, drawing some God-awful tactical punt-gun to lay into the enemy.

With reinforcements striking them down, several of the surviving raiders fled, and the team gave chase. When they rounded the brewery, they found the true threat: The Raiders’ leader, clad in heavy junk-armor and wielding fearsome hammers, was currently engaged by Cleetus and Glinda of Rattle Farm, with Chet laying still on the ground nearby. If not for their intervention in stalling the armored brute, he could have easily ravaged the nearby dwellings where the women and children were hiding! Sir Segway charged in, only to be laid out by savage hammer blows. Freya joined in the orgy of violence with Sirius hot on her heels; he clearly was not about to let his mistress face this danger alone! It was nearly his undoing, however, as once Sir Segway was on his back, gasping for breath, the Raider Boss walloped poor Sirius! With a sickening yelp, the hound flew back, and a mask of rage painted Freya’s visage. She unleashed with her knives, stabbing and slicing, finding weak points in his armor. She would make him die the death of a thousand cuts if she had to. The brute blasted her with his hammers, next, but she would not be laid low just yet.

Nearby, Riley was engaged in a scrap with a pernicious sniper. He was finally able to close and get the best of the bandit, employing his signature move of wresting the weapon away from the lout. The bandit immediately fled, cursing all the way. Riley then drew the weapon up and took aim at the Raider Leader. He fired, and a sound like a muffled gong rang out as the bullet impacted the brute’s metal helm. He dropped in a heap. Riley automatically jerked back the bolt of the stolen rifle to eject the spent casing and saw no more rounds in the magazine. The raider had left him but a single bullet, and Riley had used it to end the battle.

The raider lay at Freya’s feet. She kicked off his helmet, revealing that he was still alive, if just barely, gurgling on his own blood. She snatched up the hammer he’d used to hit Sirius. It was still plastered in chicken blood and feathers. Freya raised it over her head and brought it crashing down onto his, delivering a coup de grace.

With their leader vanquished, the few remaining bandits capitulated, and triage of the wounded villagers began. Riley rushed over to Chet and frantically tried to render aid, but to no avail. The crushing blows to his chest had likely caused severe internal damage. With his limited medical knowledge, what Riley needed was not bandages but a miracle, and Jock was nowhere to be found. After the battle, he had wandered off into the woods nearby, clearly in a haze from seeing the horrors this world had to offer, and he was oblivious that his talents were very much needed.

I’m certain that other things must have happened next, but I will have to update this entry and comment on them later. My teammates are close enough that I feel I can safely abandon my post for a moment, and there may be some help I can provide.