Chapter 31: Redemption part 2

Around midnight, Blackhall and his tribals had gathered inside the Ark and Dove Cathedral when the first Molotov cocktail struck the roof. The moonshine went up like gasoline, and soon a second cocktail struck. Marcus hoped that by targeting the roof, most if not all of the tribals would be able to escape before the flames spread. Blackhall ordered his tribals to save as many of his precious refined punga fruit as they could, and the cult leader, along with Jackson, ran out of the front gate. "WHERE ARE YOU!" he screamed into the night. "SHOW YOURSELF!"

"Master!"

Blackhall looked to his left, and one of his tribal's ran up to him with a plank of wood that had writing on it.

BLACKHALL: I WANT MY

GUNS BACK. BRING THEM

TO CALVERT MANSION.

LW

For the first time in a long time, Blackhall felt a chill of fear run up his spine. "Impossible." He quietly said. He turned and watched as his church was now consumed in flames. His flock saved as much of the refined punga as they could, but the incubators were a total lost. He was so enraged he drew his ceremonial knife and stabbed the tribal holding the sign in the gut. "BRING ME HIS HEAD!"

As the Ark and Dove Cathedral continued to burn, Blackhall's tribals headed off towards Calvert Mansion for quote: "the final battle". Marcus and Marcella were watching from the tree line, and when the last tribal headed off into the swamp, they quickly made their way to the well in the cemetery. Once they made their way down to the bottom, the two companions quickly checked their weapons. Marcus had Lincoln's Repeater, an AK-47 and four flashbang grenades. Marcella had a lever action rifle, her Chinese pistol, and two flashbangs. After activating the stealth boys they had found in Desmond's bunker, they quietly made their way through the catacombs, using the darkness to their advantage. They had made it more then halfway to the ritual chamber, when Marcus spotted two tribals standing guard. He tossed a flashbang down the passageway, and the blast stunned both guards. Marcus and Marcella easily knocked both of them out with the butts of their rifles, and they continued forward.

Desmond fired another burst from the PKM machine gun, strafing the ground in front of a group of tribals heading for the mansion's main doors. The tribals stopped dead in their tracks, long enough for Jacob Humboldt to throw a flashbang, stunning them and causing them to retreat. Plik and Smithy, both manning dragunov sniper rifles on the roof, targeted the legs of the tribals, and managed to wound over ten of them. Everyone, especially Desmond, was frustrated that they couldn't shoot to kill, and Haley had already been wounded in the arm as a result of them holding back. Desmond quickly loaded the PKM with another ammo belt. "That fucking kid better hurry!" he yelled to Jacob. "Pretty soon we'll have to start mowing these fuckers down!"

Jacob could only cringe as he tossed another flashbang out the window.

Marcus and Marcella had made it to the ritual chamber. "There it is!" Marcella said, excitement in her voice.

Marcus was cautious; their stealth boys had worn off, and he didn't want to walk into another trap. "Do you have the jar of dirt?"

Marcella un-slung her backpack and removed the jug. "Yes; let's finish this."

Marcus nodded and they both slowly approached the basin. Marcella saw movement to her right, and she pushed Marcus aside. "LOOK OUT!"

The twelve gauge round struck Marcella in the chest at almost point-blank range. She cried out in pain and fell to the ground; the jar of sacred earth rolling to the far side of the chamber.

Marcus barely had time to raise his repeater when a second shot rang out, and he felt a terrible pain as the slug collided with his left arm. The Ranger armor prevented his arm from being completely blown off, but the bone was shattered above the elbow. As he laid there, groaning in pain, their attacker appeared from the shadows wearing his trademark black robe. "You're pathetically predictable!" He mocked.

Marcus gritted his teeth as he fought the pain. Blackhall stood over him, and that's when he realized that the cult leader had shot him with "Lucy".

"This is a very nice gun." Blackhall tossed the sawed-off away, far from Marcus' reach. He strolled over to the sacrificial basin and picked up the Krivbeknih. Marcus began crawling over to his repeater, all the while blood poured from his wounded arm.

After retrieving the evil book, Blackhall reached inside of his robe, and removed Marcus' desert eagle. "Now this...this I really like! He turned towards Marcus and held the gun up. "It's got a hell of a kick, but it gets the job done."

Marcus grabbed his repeater with his right hand, and aimed the weapon towards Blackhall.

The cult leader smiled and shook his head. "This again?" He walked forward until he was standing only six feet in front of Marcus. "You can't shoot me."

Marcus licked his lips; he was only going to have one shot at this. "You're right...I can't shoot you."

Before Blackhall could register what he'd said, Marcus activated his VATS, targeted the Krivbeknih, and fired. Though it didn't damage the book, the .44 round's kinetic energy knocked it out of Blackhall's hand. He screamed as it went sailing across the chamber, and Blackhall turned his back on Marcus - a fatal mistake. Marcus pounced, and he tossed the repeater at Blackhall's legs, causing him to fall face first on the ground and drop the desert eagle. Marcus leaped on top of him, and the two men struggled to reach the book. They rolled around on the ground of the chamber, neither man able to overcome the other. Though Blackhall had over fifty years on Marcus, he was surprisingly strong; no doubt due to the power of the Krivbeknih. No one knew how long the struggle lasted, but eventually, Blackhall got the upper hand and threw Marcus into the sacrificial basin, splattering him with blood. Blackhall frantically looked around, until he spotted the desert eagle. He picked it up, and pointed it directly at Marcus, who was sitting up against the back wall of the ritual chamber.

"I don't know how you survived the Sacred Bog, boy!" Blackhall growled. "I'm guessing you're not bullet proof..."

A gunshot rang out, and Blackhall screamed as a .32 caliber round shattered his left knee. As the cult leader fell to the ground, Marcus pulled the desert eagle from his hand and stood over him.

"How?" Blackhall yelled. "HOW!"

Marcus was wondering the same thing, when a familiar child suddenly ran up to him: a hunting rifle slung on his shoulder, and a sealed jug in his hands. "Ha, Ha, look what I got, asshole!" He began to dance around in front of the shocked Blackhall. "I gotta jar of dirt! I gotta jar of dirt! I gotta jar of dirt, and guess what's inside it!"

Neither Marcus or the wounded Blackhall could believe it. While they had been struggling, Kenny (who had obviously disobeyed Marcus and followed him) had placed the Krivbeknih in the jar of hollowed dirt. Marcus picked up "Lucy" and made his way over to the child. He placed his hand on his shoulder. "Good work, Kenny. Now go! Bring the book to Panada."

"But...Marcella!"

Marcus looked down. Marcella was still alive, but she was fading fast. "I'll take care of her. Now go!"

Kenny took one last look at the missionary, and ran out of the chamber. Marcus knelled down next to the critically wounded Marcella. "Hang on! I'm going to get you out of here!" He reached down to pick her up, but Marcella cried out in pain.

"No! It's too late...it's too late!"

"No, no, you can make it!"

Marcella shook her head, and she began spitting up blood. The terrible memory of Amata flashed into his mind, and he knew he was witnessing it again. She was dying.

"No!" he cried. "No this can't be happening! Not again! NOT AGAIN GOD DAMN IT!"

Marcella took his hand and squeezed it with what little strength she had left. "No Marcus! Do not...blame him! It's alright. I am...at peace. I will...be...with our Lord soon."

Marcus could not hold back the tears. Even now, she remained true to her faith. "Please...don't go." he begged.

Marcella smiled. "The Lord...calls us all home, Marcus. Soon I will be...in Paradise." Her breathing was becoming more labored. "You are...a good man...Marcus. Remem...ber...your...promise."

Marcus held onto her hand, and he weakly nodded his head.

Marcella smiled. "The Lord is my Shepard...I shall not be in want. He makes me...lie down in green pastures...he leads me beside quiet waters. Yay, though I walk through the valley [cough] of the shadow of death...I shall fear...no evil [cough] for thou art with me [cough] thy rod and...thy staff...they comfort..."

She stopped, and Marcus knew that Marcella had breathed her last. The hate and anger that he'd put behind him days ago...was now about to explode inside of him. He let out a scream of rage, marched over to the wounded Blackhall, and pointed the desert eagle at his head.

Blackhall stared up at the enraged Marcus. "So are you going to kill me now?"

Marcus' finger strained against the trigger on his gun. Blackhall was a monster, the worst of humanity, and the world would be better off without him. If anyone had it coming, it was him.

Then, just as Marcus was about to administer justice, something made him look down at his wounded left arm. Maybe it was a shot of pain that got his attention, or his survival instincts telling him to make sure he didn't bleed out. Whatever it was, his eyes fell on the scar that was once his Brotherhood of Steel tattoo. The memory of that terrible day the Brotherhood kicked him out and he lost everything, flashed into his mind. In that moment the rage and anger left him, and he lowered his gun. He stared down at the defeated Blackhall. "No. You're not worth a bullet...and you sure as hell aren't worth my soul."

Marcus retrieved his weapons, and quickly injected his left arm with a stimpak. Once he was able to hoist Marcella's body over his right shoulder, he turned to leave the chamber. The sound of shouting coming from the main corridor caused him to stop, and it didn't take long for both men to determine what was coming: Swamp Folk. Apparently, these catacombs had belonged to them, until Blackhall had forced them out. Now that the Krivbeknih was no longer protecting Blackhall, they were coming for him.

Marcus could see the horror on the old man's face, and he turned and started to walk away.

"Wait!" Blackhall cried as he struggled to crawl over to him. "Those Swamp Folk will rip me apart!"

Marcus ignored him and kept walking.

"YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME! YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T KILL ME!"

Marcus stopped. "I'm not killing you," He half turned and gave Blackhall a cold stare. ", but I don't have to save you either."

Marcus could swear in that moment that Blackhall turned as white as a ghost. He turned and activated the last of his stealth boys. As he walked through the catacombs, he could hear Blackhall's screams as the Swamp Folk tore him to pieces.

Once the Krivbeknih had been placed into the hollowed soil, the tribals (or more accurate, the Point Lookout residents) stopped their attack on Calvert Mansion. With the spell broken, the survivors were reunited with their friends and families, including Haley and his sister Woodrose. Luckily, only a handful of the tribals had been killed. Once the battle had ended, Desmond very bluntly told the Point Lookout residents to quote: "Get the fuck off my lawn!" So they went to the Herzog mine, where they were reunited with the rest of settlers, and a celebration broke out. That was, until Marcus arrived with Marcella's body. Everyone mourned her, but none more then Marcus. After they had reclaimed the Point Lookout cemetery, Panada blessed the area and made the ground hollowed once more. The residents buried their dead, and when everyone else had gone, Marcus stayed behind to pay his final respects to Marcella. He stood there, staring at her grave's marker that read: Marcella - Hero of Point Lookout.

"Marcella...I want to thank you. You not only saved Point Lookout...but you also saved me." He wiped his tears away. "I know you're...probably not too happy with the way I handled Blackhall. I'm sorry about that. I promised I would not give into my anger and hate, and I intend to keep that promise. But the Wasteland doesn't need a saint, it needs the Lone Wanderer, and I'm going to do my best to be just that." He placed his hand on the marker. "I'll never forget you."

He stepped back, and then he stared up at the sky and cleared his throat. "Um...God? I've ah...never been one for praying. I'm not even sure if you're listening. But if you are, please watch over Marcella. If anyone deserves to be in heaven it's her." He swallowed as he felt a lump forming in his throat. "Mom. Dad. I'm...sorry about everything I did. I hope you can forgive me. If you could, maybe you could show Marcella around...I think you'd like her." He cleared his throat, and headed towards Pilgrims Landing.

Three days later...

"Okay Nadine," Marcus yelled, "hit it!"

Nadine flipped the large breaker, and both she and Marcus had to shield their eyes as the Point Lookout Lighthouse became illuminated for the first time in two-hundred years. They could hear the residents down on the beach cheer as the massive beacon began to rotate.

"All right!" Nadine said as she high-fived Marcus. After taking a moment to admire their work, they descended the long stares of the Lighthouse, and were met outside by the cheering residents of Pilgrims Landing.

When the cheering had died down, Marcus looked up at the lighthouse. "Now that that's working, everyone in the Wasteland will know that Point Lookout is open for business. And if those pirates show up again, you should be able to take care of them with all the weapons you got from Desmond."

The residents responded with more cheers. Haley, who had recently been elected the new mayor of Point Lookout, shook Marcus' hand. "We can't thank you enough, Marcus. Thanks to you, we actually have a future here."

His sister, Woodrose, gave Marcus a hug. "Thank you; you will always have a home here among us."

"Thank you." Marcus spotted Kenny, and he knelled down to his level. "You sure you don't want to come with me? There's a settlement made of children that I think you'll like."

Kenny shook his head. "Na. This is my home. I'm staying."

Panada put a hand on the boys shoulder. "I will look after him." She reached inside her robe and removed a small necklace. "This belonged to Marcella." She placed it in Marcus' hand. "I believe she would want you to have this."

Marcus stared at the silver medallion, and it contained what looked like the image on an angel with a shield and sword. "Who is that?"

"The Archangel Micheal. He was feared by those who practiced evil, and the protector of humanity. Much as you are - Marcus Lincoln."

Marcus was surprised: it was the first time Panada had called him by his name. "Thank you." He placed the medallion around his neck, and tucked it into his shirt. He turned to Nadine. "Are you ready to go home now?"

Nadine smiled. "Hell yeah! My new ship is filled with punga fruit, and I'm ready to get back to the Capital and make a killin'."

Marcus chuckled. After Blackhall's spell was broken, Nadine remembered that it was Tobar the ferry man that tipped the cult leader off that Marcus was in Point Lookout. To everyone's surprise, it was Marcus who convinced them not to string Tobar up. Instead, Marcus threw him off the Duchess Gambit, and gave it Nadine. Tobar was exciled into the swamp, and had not been scene since.

After saying their goodbyes, Marcus and Nadine boarded the steam boat, and set sail for the Capital.

"Oh my God, my baby! You're back!"

Try as she might, Nadine was unable to hold her mother back, and she reluctantly stood on the deck of the Duchess Gambit as she was kissed and nearly hugged to death. "Okay, okay, Mom! I'm alright!"

Marcus had to contain his laugh as he made his way out on deck. Catherine took a moment to let go of her daughter to hug the man who'd rescued her. "Oh thank you! You don't know what this means to me!"

Marcus smiled at the grateful woman and nodded. "You're welcome."

Catherine began to reach inside her bag. "Here...I promised you a reward..."

Marcus waved his hand. "Don't worry about it. It was my pleasure."

Catherine was stunned. "Are...are you sure."

"Don't worry about him, Mom. I let him take all the punga fruit he can carry, and he's got a free pass on the Duchess Gambit for life."

More tears appeared in Catherine's eyes, and she threw her arms around Marcus again. "Oh thank you! Thank you!"

Marcus struggled to breath, and thankfully, Catherine finally let him go. He turned to Nadine. "Are you going to be alright?"

Nadine flashed a cocky smile. "Oh I'll be better then alright. Now that Point Lookout's up and running, a lot of people are going to want to do business down there - and I'm going to be ferry'in them all! Who knows," She spread out her arms, "maybe in a few years I'll have a whole fleet. I'll be the Queen of the Potomac! Ha! What do you think about that?"

Marcus chuckled. "Well if anyone can do that, it's you."

"Damn straight!" She shook Marcus' hand. "Thank's again; don't be a stranger."

"I won't. Goodbye." As Marcus made his way down the gangplank, he took a moment and stopped at the bottom of it. He looked out towards the Capital, and he felt like there were butterflies in his stomach. A million questions flashed through his mind. How would the people of Megaton react to his return? What would happen if you ran into the Brotherhood? Would any of his friends ever forgive him? What will he encounter when he reached the Dunwich building?

He took a deep breath, and stepped off the gangplank. As he made his way back towards Megaton, only one thing was certain:

The Lone Wanderer had finally come home.