CHAPTER I: CAPTIVE

A man, caught in the clutch of bitter agony, running for his life. Dodging bullets, heaving, coughing, choking, sprinting for who knows where. His pursuers, a band of thugs, simply sat back and unloaded their arms into the staggering man. They taunted harsh obscenities, and then it came. He took a bullet into the spine. His strength and body systematically failing, he fell to the ground. Twitching, he attempted to crawl. He was momentarily stopped. A boot to the head. The thug pressed harder. The man screamed in agony, losing consciousness. The thug lifted his foot swiftly and slammed down on his bare head. A splatter of red and a crunch and his life was over.

The thugs looted his body of a bottle of whiskey, half empty. The leader pocketed it. A stimpack, two inhalers of Jet, and nine pills of Buffout. The thugs fought over the chems, one of the more stealthy thugs took all of the Buffout and quickly put them in his pocket . The fighting thugs realized the key to their happiness was gone. They quickly became enraged.

The lone thief ran behind one of the thugs' outhouses and threw them in his mouth. He struggled to swallow them due to his dehydration. He enjoyed the burst of brain function and ecstasy as he fell into a chem induced high.

A gunshot rang throughout the camp, alerting a few of the thugs. a woman outfitted with rough leather armor, metal shoulder plates, knee plated leather pants, a bandolier filled with large bullets, two holsters at sides containing two 44-Magnum revolvers, and a long katana fixed to her back in a strap took cover behind a ruined shack. She held a Type 88 sniper rifle, a pre-war Chinese rifle. She had missed her target, the intoxicant.

PTANG! "FUCK!"

"Urgh… Wha.!" The druggy gargled out as he fell to the ground. Four other men, one armed with a pistol, another with a shotgun, and the other two with rifles. They found the intoxicated man, "THIS IS THE LITTLE FUCKER THAT TOOK THE CHEMS!" They savagely kicked him in the gut. They spat in his face, the thug was still delirious. The woman saw her chance. She holstered her rifle and unsheathed her katana. She sprinted to the thugs.

SKUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSS! A whip and blur of steel and the thug that was beating the druggy was decapitated, blood spurting out in fountains each pulse. As if in slow motion she threw the katana at another thug wielding a shotgun, it embedded itself deep in his chest. He gargled on blood and fell to his knees, she swiftly drew her 44's and put a bullet in two other thug's heads. "Between the eyes… Nice…" She said under her breath and she smugly walked over to the final thug cowering next to the high thug.

"Please! Don't hurt me!"

"Why not? You kill for pleasure, the cowering victim. The CRYING victim!"

"Please…"

"AND YOU WANT ME TO FUCKING SPARE YOU?"

As quick as she said it she stuck the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

She heard strong thumps as the rest of the camp's shoes and boots clattered in the sand and rubble. She needed to get out. She ran back the way she came. KRRRRRRAAAKKKK! The woman was sent flying; she flipped and sprawled into the rubble. A bullet made a hole straight through her side, she was bleeding heavily. A mushy slop of red and goop was gushing out of her side; she couldn't do anything about her approaching foes. She lost her bearings, and slipped into unconsciousness.

She awoke to find herself cold and on the ground. In a dark shack, a trail of blood to where she was currently. She was stripped of her clothing and weapons. She was appalled, confused, and feeble. Her vision was blurry but it was clear enough to make out a strong and grizzled man walk over to her. He whispered in her ear fiercely "Ye' killed aur' men. I'm gonna' make ya' wish ya' was dead.

He took his pants off, he was going to attempt to rape her. "Not strong are ye' now lil' lady, are ya'?" He pinned her down. She tried to punch him but it was no use. With a swift hook to the side of her head she fell into unconsciousness.

"Wake up lil' lady!" the leader of the thugs barked at her. "Time fer' some healin'!" A man outfitted with a tank on his back opened the door to the shack. The light that was able to succeed into the darkness was blinding. He also carried a Flamer in tote. "Le' it rip boy." The leader smirked as he watched the other thug open a valve and take the Flamer off of safety. ! The leader held her down as the blazing flame burned her violently. She couldn't do anything, she was incapacitated with searing flame. All she could do was scream as it charred her left side and turned her flesh into a shriveled, peeling, black crisp.

Minutes turned to hours, she was losing hope. Her side smelt like an overcooked coyote dinner. She was wounded, bleeding, and was in minor shock. The leader had receded a bit before, snarling "This is happenin' for te' rest of ya' live'." She was too weak and distraught to do anything. She closed her eyes.

KUKUKUKUKUKU! Groggily, she tried to get up. She couldn't. She lurched and coughed up blood. She fell to the ground with a thump, she looked at her wound. The burn was up her side, characterized by blood splashed throughout it. The hole that the bullet punched through was burnt together, she had been cauterized inhumanly. She wasn't dead; they make it clear they want her want to suffer.

KABAM! A few gunshots, they brought her hope. Maybe that she would be found. Be saved. About 9 shots rang out in the last five minutes, incoherent screaming and shouting. Hours passed. Hope was lost.

The leader walked in the door with food.

"Ye'll have ta' eat if ya' are gonna' live."

"I'm n-not eating."

"Suit ya' self lil' lady."

The leader threw his head back and parched his desert of a throat with a swig of whiskey. He then ate the two pieces of radroach greedily. Licking his fingers, he sneered "Ya' were gonna' need that energy!" The process of the day before was repeated.

The next day, the woman awoke. Her head was throbbing. She regained her bearings and realized that she was still in trouble. KASH! The sound of a heavy weapon resonated through her ears. The thugs' only heavy weapon was that Flamer. She was sure of it.

The first thing that came to her mind was the Brotherhood of Steel. It could have been a strong loner, another group, or a band of other thugs. She was ready for the worst.

Screaming, shouting and moans mingled with her grogginess, playing things off in her head. KACHUK! The shack door broke open with a crash.

"WHO DID YE' BRING WIT YA'!"

"U-uh no-no one."

"YOU LIL' SHIT!"

"I was the only o-one…"

"STA' LIEING!"

TATATATATA! A flurry of bullets and the leader fell to the ground in a mist of blood. A hand reached to the woman, it was an armored hand. She reached for it, the figure helped her up. The woman tried desperately to get a hold of her mind.

"Are you okay?"

"F-Fine." The woman managed to sputter out while rubbing her eyes.

"You know where any of your things are?" The figure noticed her nakedness, most importantly the grizzly burn on her left side.

"Nope."

"Did you have any?"

"Yes."

"What happened for you to get caught?"

"I fucked up."

"Hm."

"How did you find me?"

"I don't know."

"I was wandering, came across this quaint little pile of shit."

"Go on…"

"I was in bad need of food and water, they had it."

"And that's why you came?"

"These Raiders don't even deserve to see the light of day; I was doing them a favor."

"Agreed."

"So now, we need to find your things."

"I can barely walk."

"I'll help you, you need medical attention and food."

"Yep."

"Either come with me, or go on your own with that burn."

"I guess I'll have to go with you."

"Let's go."

The man, equipped with light power armor, a dirt caked black bandana snaked around his head, and a distinctive Brotherhood of Steel mark across the chest of the power armor. The armor was heavily painted with chipping black and red paint, an outcast. He held an AK-47 in his hand. His face bore a scar. He looked immensely sharp, his straight brown hair stuck to the sides of his head due to sweat. He helped her up. He asked her,

"What's your name?"

"Ali, my name is Alise."

"I'm Thomas, Thomas Sanderson."

They nodded heads and quickly departed. In a shack left of the one Alise was held in, they found her equipment. She quickly put on her undergarments, put on her plated pants, her vest, and her bandolier. Every single time she moved it shot searing pain through her side. The bandolier was missing grenades and a few bullets. He found the holsters, she put them on. They were fixed to her rough hide belt.

She found her twin 44's and flipped them into the holsters like a gunslinger. She found her katana; he hooked it on to the bandolier and flipped it on her back. Her sniper rifle was under everything; she hooked the strap to her bandolier and cocked it.

She put on her boots, tied them, and stood up. She asked,

"You ready?"

"I'm ready for anything." Thomas smirked.

"Good." Alise broke into a fit of chuckling. "Thanks for saving me."

"It was nothing."

"Thanks."