Chapter 49: Into the Pitt

Abandoned Train Yard, just outside of Old Pittsburgh...

Once the handful of Raiders camped out here were dealt with, Brick landed their Vertibird in the middle of the train yard without alerting the city across the river. After they had disembarked, Marcus removed Wernher's handcuffs.

"Okay, so here's how it's gonna go." the Raider said as he rubbed his soar wrists. "You're gonna take the clothing off one of those dead slaves over there and put it on. In order to make you look convincing we'll have to ruff you up a bit."

"I volunteer!" Charon and Sarah said at the same time.

Marcus gave them both a sideways look. "Boy with friends like you..."

"Now the hardest part is getting over the bridge. It's mined and there are snipers in several places, but I'll upload their locations to that PIPBOY of yours. That should give you a chance. Once they get you, they'll search you for any weapons. You might be able to conceal a knife, but if they find it you're in for more of a beating."

Marcus took a deep breath as he tried to hide his fear. "Okay, let's do this." After he had traded his power armor for the rancid slave outfit, Clover slapped a broken shackle she had found on his left wrist for good measure. "You certainly look...and smell the part."

Marcus snorted as he tried to ignore the stench from the clothing.

"Now listen," Clover began, "it's not enough to look like a slave. You have to also act like one. The first rule is never look any of the slavers in the eye - they'll kill you on the spot. You have to remember that to them, you are not a person. You are property, and that means they can do anything they want to you. They will taunt you, beat you, insult you at every turn. If you try to fight back, they'll kill you. If you kill one of them, they'll kill you and a dozen other slaves. That's another thing you have to be aware of. Not every slave is going to be your friend. The strongest will bully the weak ones for food, water - anything that's of value. And anyone of them could be an informant, so watch what you say around them."

As Marcus listened to Clover's instructions, he noticed that her eyes were becoming misty, and her voice began to crack. Though she was no longer the weak, brain washed slave girl from Paradise Falls, the years of torment still haunted her, and Marcus had to fight the urge to hug her. "Thank you."

Clover forced a smile, and blinked to keep the tears at bay. "Don't worry, Kago and I will be close by. You won't see us, but we'll be there."

The Samurai warrior, who had traded his traditional armor for a black jumpsuit, stepped forward. "No harm will come to you, Lincoln-san. Not while I draw breath." He presented Marcus with a bow, and he returned the gesture.

Charon was the next one to approach his friend. "Damn! Even without a nose I can still smell you."

Marcus only responded with a chuckle, and the two comrades clasped their hands together. "I'll see ya later, brother."

"You'd better." Charon said in a stern voice. Once the ghoul had moved to the side, Marcus was standing face to face with Sarah. As she slowly approached him, the others took a few steps back to give them more privacy. When they were mere inches apart, Sarah looked Marcus up and down. "Well, I have to admit... the chains are kinda hot."

They both let out a nervous laugh. Marcus looked into her eyes, and as much as she was trying to hide it, he could see the fear in them. "I'll come back." he said in a low voice. "I promise."

Sarah stepped closer, until their bodies were pressed against each other. Marcus took her in his arms, and she didn't care about the stench from his cloths. She just wanted to be held by him. "You'd better." her voice cracked. "Because if you die, I'll kill you. You hear me?"

A slight smirk appeared on Marcus' face. "Yes, ma'am." He quickly pressed his lips to hers, and the kiss they shared was more intense they any they'd had up until that point. Both lovers wanted to saver every second of their embrace, as if it could be their last. Once they're lips parted, they held each other for several more moments, both of them fighting back the tears threatening to burst through.

The sound of Wernher clearing his throat snapped them back to reality. "We've got to get moving."

The two lovers let out a sigh as they reluctantly separated from each other. Marcus took one last look at Sarah, and then he forced himself to turn around and quickly joined up with Wernher and the others. Sarah watched as the four companions headed towards the bridge, until they were finally out of sight. The Sentinel spun on her heels, and marched past the rest of the strike team; her face not betraying any emotions. She made her way over to the other side of the train yard, and walked inside of an empty, rusted cargo container. Once she was certain she was away from prying eyes, Sarah Lyons fell to her knees and wept.

Marcus quickly wrapped his wound with a piece of his rancid slave outfit as he sat beside a dumpster. The .308 round had only grazed his left arm, but it still hurt (and bled) like a sonofabitch.

"Marcus."

The familiar voice still made him jump, and he soon spotted the glimmer from Clover's stealth suit coming up behind him. "Here, take this." she whispered.

Marcus eagerly injected the stimpak into his arm. "Thanks. Did Kago make it across?"

"Oh yeah. For a guy without a stealth suit, he's pretty good at being a Ghost."

Marcus leaned against a brick building and tried to catch his breath. The trek across the bridge was harrowing to say the least, and if it hadn't been for Moira telling him where the mines and snipers were based on Wernher's information, he never would have made it across.

"Well look on the bright side." Clover said. "That bullet wound, plus what Wernher did to your face, should convince the guards you're a runaway."

Marcus cringed at the memory of Wernher punching him in the face, giving him a black eye and bloody lip. No doubt the Raider enjoyed it, and Marcus reminded him that his PIPBOY was synced with his slave collar, and one command to Moira was all it would take. Wernher told them he would make it into the city his way, whatever the hell that meant. Marcus was convinced they had been duped, but the information regarding the bridge had been 100% accurate. It was definitely a good sign, but no one was prepared to completely trust Ashur's former right hand man just yet. "Okay. The main gate is right around this corner, so stay out of sight."

Clover nodded. "I will. You just be careful and remember what I told you."

Marcus took a couple of deep breaths and stood up. "Okay. The moment of truth. Remember Moira, as far as these guys are concerned you're a broken PIPBOY. I don't want to give them a reason to take my arm."

The AI gave him a nod and wink. "Okay. Going dark. Good luck and, try not to die!" The avatar blinked out, and the PIPBOY's screen went blank. Marcus took a few more deep breaths, and then slowly walked around the building with his hands raised above his head. There were about six guards standing behind a reinforced fence, with two of them keeping watch on a catwalk above. Marcus slowly made his way over to them, and it wasn't long before one of the Raiders spotted him.

"Well, well, lookie what we got here!" He sneered. "Looks like another runaway come crawling back to mommy. That's far enough, meat!"

Marcus stopped dead in his tracks. The gate was unlocked, and three of the Raiders stepped out and made their way over to him. Remembering what Clover had told him, the Lone Wanderer made sure to keep his hands up, and his eyes down. By now the three Raiders had him surrounded, and one of them began to roughly search him. "This one looks well feed. Must be a newbie. He's clean."

The one who taunted him earlier stepped forward and looked him up and down. "So what are we supposed to do with you? The boss doesn't like it when meat gets away."

Marcus knew for this to work he had to sound pathetic, so he swallowed his pride and gave it his best. "Please. I'm sorry."

The Raider laughed. "You hear that? He's sorry." The punch to his gut sent Marcus down on one knee, and as he struggled to breath, the Raider grabbed him by his hair and lifted his head up. "You're gonna be sorry, scab! Your work 'in double shifts in the Mill for the next week to make up for your little vacation!" The Raider pushed Marcus to the ground, smashing his face into the pavement.

As she watched them drag him away, Clover's hand tightened around her sword, and it took all she had not to rush out there and kill every slaver who had put their hands on Marcus. A year ago she probably would have said to hell with the consequences and done it, but she was not an immature ex-slave girl anymore. She was a Ghost, and she was on a mission. Pushing her anger aside, Clover quietly slipped inside the gate just before it had closed, and entered the Pitt.

'Maybe this was a bad idea.' Marcus thought as he approached his eighth hour working in the Mill - and he still had ten more to go. When the guards dragged him into the slave holding area, known as Downtown by the residents, the first thing he saw were two slaves nailed to a cross. One was moaning in agony, and the other had obviously been dead for a while. Marcus took in the sight of the slaves and their living conditions, and his blood boiled more with each step. Most of them looked half starved, and they were covered with the horrible soars associated with the Trog mutation. The slavers on the other hand looked to be in perfect health, and this is what allowed them to control the slave's despite being outnumbered by them by at least ten to one.

The Mill was larger than Marcus could've imagined. Giant blast furnaces produced molten steel, which the slaves poured into molds for the Pitt's assault rifles and other heavy weapons. On the other side, lead was being melted down and used to make an endless supply of bullets and ammunition for those very weapons. None of the exhausted slaves had any protective clothing for this task, and Marcus wondered just how many poor souls had gone made from lead poisoning. The Mill was crowded, hot, and the stall, heated air felt like fire in his lungs.

It was literally hell on Earth.

Marcus' job was to load the ingots recovered from the steel yard into massive carts, then push them over to the blast furnaces. He repeated this processes again and again, and if he so much as slowed down, a slaver would give him "encouragement" with the business end of a shock baton. Before they had become separated, Wernher told Marcus that Midea would make contact him. As his back strained against the cart, Marcus prayed it would be soon.

The Citadel courtyard...

Knight Danse stared daggers at the group of Raiders milling about the center of the Citadel's bailey, still not believing that command had just allowed them to walk in. He understood that they were in desperate need of men, but these were the scum of the Earth. The Knight watched as Jericho leaned against one of the shooting range's booths smoking, while Butch sat on the ground, lazily bouncing a rubber ball off one of the targets.

The double doors to the Citadel opened, and Paladin Tristen made his way over to the gang leaders. Jericho threw his cigarette down in the dirt, and Butch quickly got back on his feet.

Paladin Tristen cleared his throat. "Well I think we have an assignment for you and your... troops."

Jericho shrugged. "Let's hear it."

"Do you know where Canterbury Commons is?"

A smirk appeared on Jericho's face. "Sure I do - I once fucked a girl from that town."

A few of the Raiders standing around began to snicker, and there was no mistaking the look of annoyance on Tristen's face. "The town's residents, along with the Regulators, have been holding off the main Pitt army for some time now, and while they're doing a good job there is no way they can hold out forever."

Butch's eyes narrowed. "So what, you expecting us to be your speed bump?"

Tristen gritted his teeth. "No, but when our forces withdraw we will have to slow that army down as much as we can. That's where you come in. I want you to harass those bastards every step of the way. Conduct hit and runs, set up ambushes, mine and booby trap the roads. Make life as hard for them as possible. Do you think you can handle that?"

A devilish grin appeared on Jericho's face, and he spoke so that the rest of the Raiders could hear him. "What do you think, boys?"

The Raiders raised their rifles and let out a loud cheer. Jericho turned back to Tristen. "There's your answer. My question for you is: what's in it for us?"

Since he had expected this, Paladin Tristen maintained his composure, but Knight Danse balled his fist so hard his knuckles turned white.

"What do you want?" Tristen asked.

Jericho tilted his head towards the south. "That Purifier you guys got. Assuming you ever get it back, we want in on the action."

There was no hiding the look of shock on Tristen's face. He had expected the gangster to ask for caps or weapons for his service. But the Purifier...

"We don't sell the water from the Purifier, so whatever you had in mind..."

"We know you don't sell the water," Butch interrupted, "and that's why you're an idiot."

Danse had had enough. The Knight quickly closed the distance between himself and Butch, and he got right in the gangster's face. "You may not understand this Raider, but not everyone does things for profit! They do it for honor!"

Butch remained defiant as he stood toe to toe with the Knight. "Yeah well, honor don't pay the bills, soldier boy!"

Jericho quickly stepped between the two men before things got out of control. "Okay, alright, settle down everyone." He turned back to Tristen. "Listen, we all know that handing out this water for free was stretching your resources to the limit. Soldiers need to get paid. Caravan drivers need to get paid, on and on and on. The fact is this charity work was going to bankrupt you someday."

Tristen scowled at him. "How the hell do you know that?"

Jericho grinned. "Let's just say it's amazing how a little booze and pussy can loosen a soldier's tongue." Jericho placed his hand on Tristen's shoulder, and the two men began to walk away from the crowd. "Listen, believe it or not, but as much fun as liquor, gambling and women are, I want to get my hands into more…. legitimate business. And nothing's more legitimate then that gold mine you've been sitting on."

"I'm not going to allow you to extort the people of the Wasteland for profit!"

"Hey, hey, who said anything about extortion? I'm talking about charging a reasonable fee for the expense of bringing water to the un-washed masses. No one's going to die of thirst."

Tristen let out a sigh. "So what do you have in mind?"

"A partnership. You guys run the Purifier just like before, and handle the logistics. My people will provide security and insure delivery."

Tristen stopped and faced the crime boss. "And I'm supposed to trust you?"

"Of course not, but I remember a very famous man once said "trust, but verify". What do you say?"

Tristen's jaw hardened as he considered Jericho's offer. A few days ago he'd have sooner shot Jericho then even entertain such an absurd partnership. But in their current state….

"I'll present your proposal to the council…. but I'll push for approval."

Jericho's grin resembled a cat's who had just swallowed a canary.

The Mill….

Three days. Three fucking days since Marcus had entered this hell, and Midea had still not contacted him. He and the rest of the slaves were huddled inside of the Mill, eating one of two meals a day they were given. It was barely enough to sustain them, which he suspected was the idea. His first day in the Pitt, Marcus had shared his ration with a slave who looked half dead. After three days of back-breaking work and starvation, he wouldn't have shared his food with his own mother. As he was devouring the maggot infested meat, a gravelly voice got his attention. "Mind if I sit here, smoothskin?"

Marcus looked up at the ghoul and scooted over. "Be my guest."

"Thanks." He slumped down on the concrete floor next to Marcus. "I can tell you're pretty new here; you don't have any Trog soars."

Marcus forced the food in his mouth down. "You're right, I haven't been here very long. What about you?"

The ghoul took a moment to think. "Well, I've been here for…. what year is it, again?"

Marcus' eyes shot wide open. "2278."

The ghoul hung his head, and a bitter chuckle escaped from him. "2278, hu? Well then that means I've been here for twenty-two years."

Marcus nearly dropped his plate. Twenty-two years in this hell! "Haven't you…. tried to escape?"

"Oh yeah, more times than I can count – and each time these bastards catch me. Every time you try to escape, the punishments get worse. Finally, after a while I just stopped." He took a bit of his food. "You know, I think this is the most I've talk to one of you smoothskins in a long time. Even in this place, prejudice runs deep."

"Well, I used to run with a ghoul."

"Really? I used to run with a smoothskin. Hu, it's still funny even now when I think about it. You wanna know how we met? The asshole stole my girl."

Marcus laughed. "Seriously?"

The ghoul nodded. "Yup. Not long after that, we became great friends, and we got into all kinds of trouble in the Capital Wasteland. Of course usually it was him getting into trouble, and I was the one getting him out of it."

Marcus licked his fingers as he finished the last of his ration. "What happened to him?"

A sad expression appeared on the ghoul's face. "I don't know. We were hiding out in this settlement called Rockopolis, when these Pitt bastards showed up. During the chaos we got separated, and when I woke up, I was here. I…. I never saw my friend again."

As Marcus listened to the ghoul's story, he realized that he'd heard it before. "Wait a minute! Are you…. Argyle? Herbert "Daring" Dashwood's friend?"

The ghoul's eyes narrowed. "How the hell do you know that?"

"Because I've met Dashwood. He's still alive! He told me about what happened at Rockopolis. He said he spent years looking for you but…. he presumed you were dead."

Argyle appeared to choke up. "Hu. I should've known nothing would kill that crazy bastard."

They were interrupted by the Mill's whistle being blown, signaling for them to get back to work. As Marcus and Argyle stood up, the ghoul placed his hand on the Wanderer's arm. "He kid, thank you for telling me about Dashwood, and that he didn't forget about me. If you ever need anything, come and find me."

For the first time in three days, a smile appeared on Marcus' face. "Thank you."

Once his shift was finally over, Marcus slowly made his way to the slave's quarters in Downtown. He was so tired he was barely conscious of his legs moving. He was halfway to his sleeping area when a woman grabbed him by the arm. "I'm Midea. Come with me, now!"

If Marcus wasn't so tired, he would've responded with "about fuck' in time!" Instead, he followed the woman into her quarters, and while it wasn't much, it was better than most of the slave quarters he'd seen.

"You must be Marcus; Wernher told me about you. Personally I think this plan of his is suicidal, but I guess we don't have many choices."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Marcus replied; his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Do you know where the cure is?"

Midea nodded. "Yes. It's kept at Ashur's mansion, a place called Haven located Uptown. As you can imagine, it's heavily guarded, and it is almost constantly in the possession of his wife."

"You mean Sandra?"

"Yes, the Lady of the Pitt. She's the scientist that developed the cure, and she's just as ruthless as her bastard husband."

"So how do I get to it?"

"There is only one way for you to even get close to the cure, and that is you must have an audience with Sandra."

Marcus crossed his arms. "And just how the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"Once a month, Ashur and his wife allow one slave the opportunity to fight for their freedom in the arena. Two days from now they will ask for a volunteer, and when they do, you must make sure that you are chosen."

Marcus felt a chill run up his spine as he remembered the stories Clover told him about being forced to fight other slaves for sport. "You want me to fight gladiators to the death inside of an arena?"

"I'm sorry, but it's the only way. The winner is taken to Haven and given a personnel audience with Ashur's wife. That will be your chance to steal the cure, and bring it to Wernher. I wouldn't ask you to do this if I didn't think you could handle it. Wernher told me you're the greatest warrior in the Capital Wasteland, so if anyone can survive the arena, it's you."

Marcus cursed under his breath. "I guess I don't have much choice."

Midea gave him a wary nod. "We must hurry; they are planning to send out another supply caravan in the next few days to resupply Ashur's army in the Capital. It will have to cross the bridge and pass through the abandoned train yard, and if your friends are still there, we're all dead."

"So what should I do between now and then?"

Midea stood up and looked him dead in the eye. "Stay alive!"

The next day, Midea's instructions would prove to be harder than expected. Marcus had been reassigned to the side of the Mill manufacturing the ammunition, and just when he thought he'd seen every kind of atrocity imaginable, what he witnessed made his blood boil. Dozens of small children were being used to pack the hundreds of bullets being made in the presses, while others were polishing the inside of the mortar shell casings. It took all of his self-control to stop himself from going on a rampage and killing every slaver with his bare hands. As he was pouring gunpowder into the press, a haggard looking woman meekly approached him. "Excuse me. Are you…."

It took Marcus a few seconds to recognize her – and his eyes shot wide open. "Rosie?"

Rosie, the first wife of President Dave of the Republic of Dave, looked almost nothing like the strong, intelligent woman Marcus had met six months ago. Her hair was dirty and mangled, and she looked like she had lost more than twenty pounds. Several of her fingers were broken and wrapped in dirty bandages, and there were several bruises on her arms, face and throat. "It….it is you!" Her voice cracked with desperation. "Marcus Linco…."

Marcus leaped forward and placed his hand on her mouth. "Shhhh! Don't say my name!" He whispered.

Rosie nodded, and Marcus removed his hand. "I heard about what happened to the Republic."

Rosie began to choke up. "It was horrible. They just smashed through our gate and began slaughtering everyone in sight. Dave and my…." tears began to stream down her face, "….my son Bob…. they and the rest of the men tried to fight back, but there were just so many of them."

Marcus' heart broke as he listened to her story. "Did anyone else survive?"

Rosie whipped her tears away. Only myself and my three daughters. Rachael, Mary and Flower. My boy Ralph…. I don't know what happened to him."

Marcus remembered the report from Paladin Sanchez, and he placed his hand on Rosie's shoulder. "The Brotherhood found Ralph wandering in the Waste. He was in shock and dehydrated, but he's alive."

This time, Rosie cried tears of joy, and she threw her arms around him. "Oh thank God! Thank you, thank you, Mar…. I mean…. thank you."

Their moment was shattered by the sound of Rosie's oldest daughter Mary screaming. Marcus spotted the girl being dragged away by a group of four male slaves. Rosie suddenly turned white as a sheet. "Oh no! Please God not again!"

Alarm bells began going off in Marcus' head. "What's going on? What are they doing!"

The look Rosie gave him told the whole story….and Marcus began seeing red. In that moment, he forgot about his cover, his mission – everything that mattered. He pushed his way through the crowd of slaves, and followed the four abductors to an isolated area of the Mill behind several non-working pieces of equipment. One of the men pinned the young girl against the machinery, and began staring at her the way an animal stared at its prey.

Marcus didn't remember much of the fight. He didn't say a word as all of the anger he had suppressed for the past few days was unleashed on these four deviants. He didn't kill any of them, but he beat them within an inch of their lives. When three armed Pitt Raiders finally arrived, they stared in awe at the scene before them. Marcus was standing in the secluded area, breathing heavily and covered in blood (most of it not his). At his feet were the four, unresponsive slaves, battered and bloodied. Mary, thankfully, had managed to run back to her mother before the slavers had arrived.

The three Raiders awe soon gave way to anger, and they trained their rifles on Marcus. "You! Get your hands up now!"

As he pushed the monster inside of him back into its cage, Marcus slowly raised his hands. Remembering not to look the slavers in the eye, he quickly stared at the ground as they approached. The lead Raider smashed him in the gut with the butt of his rifle, sending Marcus to his knees. He felt the barrel of an Infiltrator rifle pressed against the back of his head, and he held his breath.

"You just cost us four workers, scab! So kiss your ass goodbye…."

"Hold it!"

The slavers looked up to where the voice had come from. A female Raider, with a sniper rifle and purple hair, approached with two more Raiders in tow. She stood in front of Marcus, reached down and jerked his chin up. She took a few moments to look the Wanderer over. "So, you're a fighter, hu?"

Marcus didn't answer. The Raider, known as Vikia, flashed him an evil smile. "Since he likes to fight so much take him to the steelyard. I'm sure Everett can use him."

The other slavers sneered and chuckled, and they picked Marcus up and dragged him off. He wasn't sure what was waiting for him in the steelyard, but the looks of glee on his captor's faces told him it was nothing good.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Everett sneered as the slavers brought Marcus into his office.

"A trouble maker." One of them growled.

Everett stood up and walked around his desk. "Is that right? Well, maybe sometime in the steelyard will improve his attitude. Bring him here, boys." They walked through a steel door and entered the abandoned area. A nose above caught Marcus' attention, and he got his first glimpse of the dreaded Trogs.

"You see those guys up there?" Everett said. "You'll be seeing a lot more of them. Alright scab, listen up! I'm only going to say this once. Through that door is the steelyard, and if you manage to make your way through the Trogs and Wildmen, you're to find no fewer than ten ingots. If you try to come back here with less than ten, the only thing you're getting for your troubles is a bullet." He tossed Marcus a blood stained satchel. "Any questions?"

"Do I at least get a weapon?"

Everett smirked. "Sure you do." He walked over to the wall, removed a blood stained 24" pipe wrench, and presented the tool to him. "Here you go."

The other Raiders busted out laughing. Marcus clenched his fist before letting out a sigh and taking his "weapon". As he headed for the door leading to the steelyard, Everett called out to him. "Hey scab! Do me a favor and get killed close to the door. That way I don't have to go far to loot your corpse."

The other Raiders laughed, and they began making bets on how long he would last.

Marcus took a deep breath, opened the door, and entered the steelyard. The moment the door was shut, and he was sure he was alone, Marcus touched the screen on his PIPBOY. "Moira, you there?"

The AI's avatar appeared a moment later. "Of course I am, silly. Man, I was really getting bored in there."

"I need you to call out all hostiles for me, while I try to find these ingots, okay?"

"Okidoki!"

Marcus began to cautiously make his way through the abandoned steelyard. It was just like the rest of the Pitt: dark, rundown, and the only sound was from the exhaust of the Mill's blast furnaces. He could see a group of old rail cars sitting on the tracks up ahead, and he decided to start his search there. "Are you picking up anything, Moira?"

"I'm detecting multiple hostiles, but I don't think they know we're here yet. Most are alone, but some are in pairs."

A quietly as he could, Marcus began searching the rail cars. His muscles still ached from working in the Mill, and he struggled to climb in and out of the rusted cars. He wasn't sure how long he had searched, but it seemed like forever, and he had only found two of the ingots. He grunted as his feet hit the dirt after jumping down from the last car he'd searched – and that's when Moira yelled out her warning. "Marcus! I think they heard us. We've got hostiles coming in fast."

Marcus' head spun around in all directions. "How many?"

"I whole bunch! My advice, is to run!"

Marcus took her advice and began to sprint away; ignoring the pain in his leg muscles. He could hear movement and growling off in the distance, and no matter how fast he ran, the creatures making the noise were getting closer.

"Wow, these guys are fast!" Moira commented.

Marcus felt like his lungs were on fire. "Ya think!" He scanned the area, looking for any place to hide. He spotted what looked like the main control station, and he made a be-line for it.

"Oh shoot!" Moira groaned.

It was all she was able to get out before the Trog that was ahead of them struck. The creature leaped out the shadows, and Marcus ducked down at the last second, just as it's razor sharp claws swiped the air above him. The Wanderer stumbled, but quickly regained his footing and spun around. He let the satchel slip from his shoulder, and he readied his pipe wrench. The Trog growled and snarled at its prey, and it lunged forward, determined to tear him apart. Marcus jumped back, just barely dodging the razor sharp claws as he waited for his moment. The creature lunged again, only this time Marcus activated his VATS, and time stopped. He swung the pipe wrench, striking the Trog across its face, stunning the creature. Marcus swung again, and again, until he heard a sickening crack, indicating the Trog's skull had been fractured.

"Look out…."

Moira's warning was too late as another Trog leaped out of nowhere, and Marcus felt it's claws slash across his back. He screamed in pain and quickly jumped forward, determined to put some distance between himself and his attacker. The Wanderer spun around swinging the pipe wrench, and scored a lucky hit across the creature's face. But the Trog quickly recovered, and with one swipe of its powerful claws, knocked the weapon out of Marcus' hand. It lunged forward, looking to end its now defenseless prey quickly, but Marcus rolled out of the way and took off running. He spotted another rail car just up ahead, and he dove underneath it just and the Trog leaped for him. Marcus heard the creature smash into the side of the rail car, and it screamed in pain and frustration. It was now crawling on its belly, trying to reach its prey underneath the car. Marcus could hear the abomination pursing him, and his mind raced as he tried to figure out how to get rid of it. As he crawled onto his belly, he stumbled upon the decomposing body of a slave, an ingot in its right hand – and a .38 pistol in the other!

Marcus pried the pistol from the corpse's hand, prayed it was loaded, turned and fired a round into the Trog's face, killing it instantly. Though he wanted nothing more than to collapse, Marcus crawled out from underneath the car – and immediately wished he hadn't. Not less than twelve of the Pitt abominations had him surrounded.

Moira's avatar cringed. "IIIIIIIII think we're in trouble."

Marcus' throat went dry, and he quickly checked his pistol. Four shots. That's all he had left. For a brief moment, he wondered if it wouldn't be better to just use the last one on himself, when the first Trog leaped forward. Marcus again activated his VATS, and put two well placed rounds into the creature's head. Another attacked from his right, but Marcus put one it it's left eyeball, then fired his last one into the chest of another. He pulled the trigger again, and heard the heart stopping click. The creatures seemed to suspect their prey was now helpless, and they slowly closed in on him. Marcus backed up until his back crashed into the train car. He never expected that this was how his end would come: torn apart, hundreds of miles from home by these abominations. He closed his eyes and whispered. "Sarah. I'm sorry."

The alpha Trog raised its right claw to strike, when it was suddenly cutoff just below its elbow. As the Trog screamed in pain and shock, it felt the cold steel of Kago's blade enter its stomach and exit out it's back. Marcus' eyes shot wide open, and he watched as the Samurai withdrew his sword, spun around, and decapitated another one of creatures.

Clover jumped down from the top of the rail car, and split the top of another Trogs skull in half with her Chinese officer's sword. The Ghost drew her 10mm submachine gun from its holster, and fired a full burst into the crowd of abominations, killing four, and forcing the others to retreat. She turned to Marcus. "This way!"

The relieved Lone Wanderer didn't argue as he followed them into the abandoned control station. Kago closed and barricaded the door, in case the remaining Trogs decided to come back. The three companions sat down on the few chairs they managed to find, and Clover handed Marcus a can of spam. "You look like you could use this."

Marcus thanked her and greedy snatched it from her hand. Once the tin was open, he began to devour the 200 year old meat and let out a content sigh. "Damn, I needed that."

Clover handed him a bottle of purified water, which he happily chugged down. "Sorry we couldn't get here sooner. We had to take the scenic route on the roof tops."

Marcus shook his head as he swallowed the water in his mouth. "You came at just the right time. Thank you."

Clover responded with a smile, and Kago gave a slight bow with his head.

"Did you hear what Midea wants me to do?"

Clover nodded. "I did." She leaned in closer to him. "Listen to me Marcus. I've fought in arena's like this and there are no rules except for one: kill or be killed."

Marcus clenched his fist. "I do not want to kill people for entertainment."

"I agree." Kago said in broken English. "To kill for sport…. there is no honor in that."

Clover shook her head. "But that's exactly what they are expecting you to do. It's not like those old movies where the people put their thumbs up for life, or down for death. In these fights, there is only death. If you hesitate, or show mercy, they will kill you."

As he listened to her words, Marcus suddenly found that, despite his hunger, he had lost his appetite. Clover gently placed her hand on his shoulder. "Hey. You just remember what I taught you. If you get into trouble…."

"No! There's no way you two will be able to rescue me, and fight your way out." He looked her dead in the eye, and placed his hand on hers. "No matter what happens, you cannot interfere." He turned to Kago. "Either of you."

Reluctantly, the Samurai nodded his head. Clover was more hesitant, but she finally agreed. "Okay. Let's help you get those ingots and get out of here."

The next day, the slaves gathered in the square of the Downtown area, and were waiting for the arrival of Sandra, Ashur's wife and Lady of the Pitt. Marcus was standing next to Midea, and while she was not happy that his actions had him thrown in the steelyard, she was happy with the results. After surviving the horrors of the steelyard, and bringing back more than ten ingots, word had spread through the ranks of the Raiders that Marcus was more than the average scab. This, she hoped, would help his chances of getting chosen to fight in the arena.

A group of armed Raiders arrived on the plate form overlooking the square, and they were followed by a young woman adorned in a black, wet-leather looking dress, with leather gloves that went up past her elbows. The dress tightly hugged her body, and there was a split in the side of the dress going all the way up to her thigh. It was a look that projected both femininity and power. She turned and looked down at the throngs of slaves, and all of them quickly got down on one knee and stared at the ground. Midea was quick to grab Marcus' hand to compel him to do the same, and he reluctantly complied.

The Lady of the Pitt smiled at her subjects, and she raised her hands as she began to speak. "Citizens of The Pitt, workers of Downtown, traders of Uptown, and all fierce souls who do what must be done! I bring you good news! We stand at the dawn of a new golden age. Where others merely survive, we thrive! Even now your Lord, my husband, is on the verge of victory over the corrupt Brotherhood of Steel and their acolytes in the Capital Wasteland!"

The Raiders let out a roar of triumph, and Marcus gritted his teeth.

"Our industry is the envy of the Commonwealth! Our might is the envy of Ronto! And while our Lord has led your efforts, it has been by your own strength that you have earned all of the envy of the world. They envy the steel shaped by the workers in our mills, and they envy the strength of our traders and raiders who wield that steel for The Pitt. And most of all, they envy our victories in the struggle for freedom. Because, yes, freedom is what we all work towards. Freedom from fear, freedom from disease, freedom to live as once we did before we were shackled by atomic fire!"

"I'd pay real money for her to shut up." Marcus mumbled under his breath.

Midea nudged him with her elbow. "Shhhh, be quiet!"

"And so, to celebrate this struggle, I ask my loyal workers: who among you is prepared to fight for your freedom? Who among you will risk your life in the crucible to create a new life of freedom in Uptown? Who will take this rare chance to thrive?"

Midea gave him another elbow. "Now! Do it now!"

Marcus closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and stood up. He lifted his head, and when he spoke, his voice echoed through the entire square. "I accept the challenge!"