Chapter 134: How to Train Your Deathclaw

Chapter 134: How to Train Your Deathclaw

After an exceedingly long drive, I finally pulled the deuce and a half up to the front gates of Jacobstown. For all the power I'd managed to squeeze out of that 200 horsepower engine, it was still hauling a two and half ton truck (plus, there was that half-ton of muscle in the back weighing it down...), so that steep, twisting mountain road was a bit of a struggle. The brakes squeaked and the whole cab shifted forward slightly, but I managed to stop the truck just in time to see a super mutant in a ghillie suit pop out of the undergrowth with his rifle trained on the cab.

"What do you want, human?" a deep voice growled from somewhere underneath all that foliage.

"Hi," I smiled at the huge walking bush, and gave him a wave. "I'm here to see Marcus. I've got a question for him, he around?" The bush shrugged and snorted.

"Oh, it's you. Yeah, go on in. He should be in the center of town." I gave him a nod, and manhandled the car in gear.

"Thanks, man." As I drove off, I heard a muffled "Whatever," from behind me. The truck trundled along into the center of Jacobstown, and sure enough, Marcus was sitting on one of the benches in the center of town. He was smoking a cigar, and when I finally got out of the truck, I realized... he was facing the direction of the mushroom cloud. He was watching it like he was watching TV.

Oh hell.

"Well, well, well." Marcus said, looking over in my direction as smoke curled around his head. "Look who wandered back into my town. I guess I should've expected this."

"Really?" I halted, definitely caught off guard. "Why?" Marcus smiled, grabbed his cigar, and pointed it in the vague direction of the mushroom cloud.

"Because the last time I saw a nuke that big go off was when the oil rig got vaporized." Marcus started chuckling, curls of smoke blowing out of his nostrils. "Am I right in guessin' you had a hand in that?"

"I... uh..." I swallowed hard, grimacing. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Fair enough," Marcus said with a shrug. He stuck the cigar back in his mouth and got up off the bench, immediately looming over me in that way super mutants tend to do just naturally. "So, what brings you back to my neck of the woods, Courier?" He looked down at Roxie, who was merrily circling around my feet, and raised a hairless eyebrow. "Don't tell me it's another cyberdog problem?"

"No, no, not at all," I said, scratching the back of my neck nervously. "Actually, I came here because of those old stories of yours the ones about your time with the Chosen One? You said he travelled with a deathclaw, right?" Marcus nodded, displacing a halo of smoke.

"Mmhmm. Goris. He was an albino we met in Vault 13. Called himself a scholar, but he was pretty decent in a scrap. Hell of a good cook, too, which always surprised me."

"But, you guys travelled together, right?" I asked, still a bit unsure how I was going to properly segue into the question I really wanted to ask. "Like... did he ever go to towns? With people that could... you know, see a deathclaw walking around?"

"Oh sure," Marcus pulled the cigar away again. "We went all over. New Reno, Sac-Town, Redding, Vault City... you name it, we went there."

"How'd you manage that?" I asked. Marcus didn't seem to understand. "Well... I mean... most people shoot deathclaws on sight. Either that or they shit their pants and run for the hills. How'd that Chosen One dude convince people not to completely panic whenever he rolled into town with a deathclaw in tow?"

"Well, to be fair... none of us figured out he was a deathclaw at first. He had this huge burlap robe he wore all the time, covered him completely. Hell, when I first saw him, I thought he was just a hunchback. He always said he was deformed by radiation if anyone in town even bothered to ask. Most people didn't." As he finished this short trip down memory lane, Marcus looked down at me with narrowed eyes. "Speaking of, why are you so curious all of a sudden?"

"Well..." I coughed nervously, and let out a sigh. "C'mon, I'll show you." I turned on my heel and walked to the back of the truck, Marcus and Roxie following close behind. I dropped the tailgate, and grabbed the edge of the cloth flap.

"Oh wow." Marcus said flatly.

"Yeah," I nodded.

Stripe was asleep, and he was still taking up most of the available space back there. He was curled up in what he probably thought was a tiny ball, his head resting on his massive, scaly paws. He was breathing steadily, a strange sort of pulsating growl his own version of a snore, I guess. His massive form rose and fell with every breath, sending ruffles of movement down his furry white mohawk. His nose twitched slightly, but he remained steadfastly asleep.

"Well, that's certainly different," Marcus said, rubbing his chin. "Never seen a hairy one quite like that before. Where'd you find him?"

"Long story," I said, not exactly eager to explain about the Big Empty yet again. The more I told that story, the more I questioned my own sanity. "I didn't know who else I could take him to. You're the only one I know who has experience with intelligent, talking deathclaws. Thing is, he was a lot smaller than this the other day. A lot smaller. But the next thing I know, he's eaten about two dozen animals, and here we are." Marcus raised another hairless eyebrow at me again.

"Wait... how small are we talking?" he asked.

"About the size of a cat, maybe?" I chuckled nervously. Marcus' expression fell, and his brow furrowed intensely, like he was trying to connect the dots and couldn't quite manage.

"Are... are you takin' the piss?" Marcus said, turning to look down at me with narrow eyes.

"I am being totally serious. I mean, I had a feeling he was going to grow a bit more, but just... not this fast." I sighed. "When I looked around his nest, I found a couple of piles of skin and scales that he must shed like a snake, so... I guess deathclaws molt?" Or maybe Stripe molts because he's an experiment from the Big Empty. That's what was going through my head, but it's like I said before: talking about the Big Empty would probably just confuse the matter needlessly.

"I... I'm gonna be honest, I'm a bit out of my element here." Marcus started chuckling. "I thought I'd seen everything, travelling with that crazy motherfucker, back in the day. Guess I was wrong."

"You wouldn't happen to know where Goris is now, would you? Maybe we could ask him for advice." I knew it was a longshot, but stranger things have happened in the last few weeks. For all I knew, there was a pack of intelligent deathclaws living in the Mojave that nobody knew about. Sadly not.

"Nah," Marcus shook his head. "Last I saw, Goris left when most of us went our separate ways. He went back to his father, Gruthar, and the two of them led their pack north. Something about 'yellowknives' I think, I'm not sure. Point is, nobody has seen any deathclaws from that pack in almost 40 years."

"Yeah, I kinda figured as much..." As I leaned against the edge of the truck, Roxie leapt up into the back. She trotted over to the sleeping Stripe, sniffed him, licked his face, and proceeded to settle down into a little ball of metal and fur on top of Stripe's curled up arms and legs. Stripe's eye twitched, but remained closed and he snorted loudly, kicking up a small cloud of dust.

"That dog has a surprising amount of balls," Marcus said, nodding.

"Doubly surprising, considering Roxie's a girl," I corrected. Marcus laughed a bit at that. "Alright, so Goris is out. Do you know anybody else who might know... about... deathclaws?" Marcus scratched at the back of his head, shaking the microphone next to his mouth.Follow current novels on novelb((in).(com)

"Hmm... Well, you could always try the Thorn." It took me a minute to connect the name to an image. And then:

"Oh, yeah," I said with a snap of my fingers. "That's that place just outside Westside, isn't it?" Marcus nodded. "Yeah, I've seen the sign, but... never actually checked it out. What is it?"

"Close as I can figure, it's some kind of underground combat arena. A bit of blood-sport, down in the sewers below Vegas. The girl who runs the place, Red Lucy, fancies herself a bit of a hunter. Keeps a whole load of animals for the fights down there, if the stories are right everything from giant mantises to cazadores and deathclaws."

"Well, that sounds promising!" I paused to consider the implications, and then added: "Let's hope she actually knows about taking care of deathclaws instead of just killing them for sport." Stripe snorted again; I dropped the cloth and grabbed the tailgate to lock it back in place. "I should probably drop him off at his nest back at the 38 first, though... just to be safe. Don't really want to enter him into an arena fight by accident."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." Marcus agreed. As I made my way back to the truck cab, a massive hand patted my shoulder, practically knocking me off balance. "Good luck with this. I'm sure you'll figure something out. And if all else fails, I'm sure you can find a big enough tarp he can hide under if you ever need to take him out in public." He grinned broadly.

"Thanks, Marcus," I said, turning back to flash him a smile. "You've been a great help, man."

"Don't mention it," he said, taking a long puff of his cigar. "Just remember: if things ever get really strange, don't hesitate to come on back. I'm the guy to talk to.

Ding.

I stepped out of the elevator into the 38's suite and was met with silence. It wasn't all that surprising, until I actually started to wander around. Nobody was in the kitchen, nobody was in the common room... I even knocked on some of the bedrooms, just to check, but nobody seemed to be here.

"The fuck is everyone?" I asked aloud, not really expecting a response.

"Don't ask me, man," Cass tired, yawning voice wafted through the air behind me. "I just fuckin' woke up." She was leaning against the doorframe of my room, rubbing the side of her face blearily. Her hair a tangled mess, and that checkered shirt of hers was mostly open despite a single corner hastily tucked into her pants.

"Catching up on sleep?" I asked, sauntering over to her and wrapping a hand around her waist. She smiled, looking up at me through half-lidded eyes.

"I'm surprised yer not, after all you've been through..." One of her hands snaked its way up the front of my armor, and gripped the collar of my duster, bringing me in closer. She leaned against me and whispered huskily in my ear: "You know... we could always fix that..."

"I think you're suggesting the opposite of sleep, Cass," I said with a grin. "Tempting... but unfortunately I got work to do." I stole a kiss quickly and slid past her into my room pausing momentarily when she unexpectedly smacked my ass. Fair enough, I suppose it was her turn.

"Work, huh?" Cass asked, following me. "What's up?"

"Well, there's a bit of an..." I grimaced, trying to think of how best to phrase this. "...issue with Stripe. I was gonna head over to the Thorn, see if I can get some advice on taking care of deathclaws. Wanna come with?"

"Sure, sounds like fun," Cass nodded. "So, what's wrong with the little guy? Has he gotten into the walls? Started chewing on the wiring or something?" Oh dear. This is gonna take some explaining, isn't it?

"You haven't seen his lair down in the parking lot, have you?" I asked. Cass shook her head. Before I had a chance to explain, we were interrupted by a bellowing Russian voice. Cass looked like she was about ready to jump out of her skin, and quickly pulled her shirt closed, almost like a reflex action.

"!" Sasha barked from the spot on the dresser. "You are speaking of tiny talking lizard, ?" I nodded. "Ah, it would be good to speak with him again. Great appreciation of , that one! Wonderful sense of humor!"

I looked over at Cass (who had, I noticed, hastily buttoned up her shirt), and she shrugged. I plucked her hat and jacket off the floor, tossing them her way before picking up the heavy minigun and wrapping the sling around my head.

"I ended up smelling like engine grease for a month afterword!" She said, flicking me in the forehead. "Not to mention the tetanus shots!"

"Hey, how was I supposed to know they had a crate full of mole rats, huh? And seriously who keep them in the ceiling? Nobody could've predicated that!" She sighed and shook her head.

"Maybe not, but the Radio Tower was completely your fault, and don't you try to deny it!" she said, prodding me in the chest. "If it wasn't for your shenanigans, the Shi might never have shown up, and we could've gotten away clean! But ohhh no! You just had to flash your ass at those pricks!"

Before I could get caught up in yet another argument, Cass (who had been watching this unfold) decided to speak up and bring the two of us somewhat closer to reality.

"Oh, I get it. You two used to be fuck-buddies, didn'cha?" Jessie stared at Cass in horror, apparently startled that Cass figured it out so easily. "Yeah, you two were totally doin' it. You bicker like an old married couple." I just laughed.

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds bad."

"What, fuck-buddies?" Cass asked.

"No, old married couple." Cass and I both started laughing, and Jessica just sighed again.

"Why are you here?" Jessica asked, moving away from me and making a beeline for the bar. Well, the more things change...

"It's like I told you," I said, moving over to the couch, flopping down in the middle. "I was looking for Red Lucy. I didn't expect you to be her. Last I remember, you were leaving Sac-Town with that drummer, trying to start up that band. What happened to that, what's all this 'Red Lucy' business?" Jessica grumbled, shaking her head and pouring herself a drink.

"The band didn't work out," she knocked back a slug of whiskey as punctuation. "Band drama broke it up. Reggie left me for the guitarist, and things kinda fell to pieces after that."

"What, Maurice?" I asked; she nodded. Huh. I wouldn't have pegged the two of them for that. Good for them.

"Yeah, well," Jessica sighed. "I'm sure you can appreciate that I needed a drastic change in my life after that. I headed south. Ended up here. Nobody knew my real name, nobody knew anything about me or my past... so I decided to make something up. I created this whole persona..." She cleared her throat, and she raised a fist to the sky, reciting a prepared speech in an overly melodramatic tone: "Welcome to The Thorn! Where the clamor of bloodthirsty crowds reach every corner of The Wasteland! Where the strong make a name for themselves, and the weak are fed to the jaws of Hell!" She leaned back and laughed. "It's been fun so far. It's not every day you get a chance to start fresh."

"Let go, and begin again, huh?" I muttered, chuckling slightly. "Been running into that mentality a lot lately... Is that your excuse for the red hair? You used to be blonde, as I recall." Jessie shrugged, and took another drink.

"Can't very well have 'Red' Lucy without red hair, now, can we?"

"I guess not," I nodded, suppressing a smile. Somehow, I had the sneaking suspicion that the real reason for the hair was due to her love of those old Grognak the Barbarian comics. Give her a pair of swords and a chainmail bikini, and she'd be the spitting image of Femme-Ra. "It suits you."

"Thanks," she said, leaning back against the bar. "So, now you know what I've been up to the last few years. What about you? What bring you to the Mojave?"

"Well, you know how these things go," I shrugged, laced my fingers behind my head, and leaned back against the surprisingly comfortable couch. "One day you're just delivering packages and the next thing you know, you get shot in the head and everyone who wants a piece of Vegas wants a piece of you as well." She stared at me curiously and then the lightbulb lit up over her head.

"Oh God, don't tell me," she chuckled, rubbing her temple. "You're that Courier everyone keeps talking about, aren't you?"

"Guilty as charged," I shrugged, unable to hold back a shit-eating grin.

"I should've known," Jessie shook her head, still laughing. "You never did know how to keep out of trouble."

"Maybe not, but I'd like to think I've been doing alright so far," I said with a smile. "It's nice to see you again. You look good." She chuckled once, looking down to try and hide her own smile.

"Thanks... you too." She coughed nervously.

"So..." Cass leaned in from her spot on the arm rest. "Are you two gonna bang, or what? Cuz if you are, I could always leave or join in, whichever you want. I'm game." She grinned at the two of us like the Cheshire cat. I was half expecting her to disappear, leaving only her hat.

"HAH! Yeah, that's not gonna happen again..." Jess muttered into her glass before finishing off her drink. "I've already been in that car crash once, thank you very much."

"Oh, not this again!" I said, knowing exactly what she was referencing there. "It was a patch of black ice on a black road in the middle of the night! Neither of us saw it until the truck started to spin out, and you know it!"

"You flipped the bitch!" She riposted. "The truck ended up on its roof, jammed between a tree and a lamppost! We were trapped in there for an hour and a half!"

"We were fine," I waved the air in front of my face, dismissively. "We both walked away from that, didn't we?"

"You set the airbags off, man!"

"To be honest, I didn't think that truck had airbags..."

"OI!" Cass snapped her fingers at the two of us. "Fuckheads! C'mon, focus!" She turned to face Jessica fully. "We're here because we need some deathclaw tips."

"Deathclaw... tips?" Jessie cocked her head to the side, "Do I even want to know?"

"Let's say, hypothetically," I started. "That a talking deathclaw started following me, and I don't know the first thing about taking care of deathclaws. What do you think I should do in this situation?"

"Okay, stop for a minute," Jess held out a hand. "Back up. I think you're gonna have to run that by me again. A talking what?"

"Alright, alright, I'll..." I sighed. For as much as I didn't want to try and explain the madness of the Big Empty again, I guess I had no choice this time. "Pull up a chair. This could take a while..."

"Well, this has been a wasted exercise," I grumbled as Cass and I headed back to my car.

"What d'you mean?" She scooted ahead of me, hopping up to sit on the hood of my car. I sidled up next to her, leaning against the front wings, and making a pointed effort to not look at the massive mushroom cloud hanging over our heads.

"I just still don't know what to do about Stripe," I said with a sigh. "I've spent all this time, running around, trying to find somebody who knows how to take care of deathclaws - or move them in public without people going nuts and nobody knows anything useful."

"To be fair to the little er, big guy," Cass smirked. "Stripe seems like he can take care of himself."

"True. But I thought we might at least get some ideas from the Thorn, but nope! Of course they breed those things down there, so nobody knows how to move a deathclaw on the surface without being noticed. Which is not helpful. Not to mention, I don't think Marcus' suggestion of covering him in a burlap sack is feasible, either."

"Yeah, it would definitely be tricky finding a sack big enough..." Cass nodded, leaning back on her elbows.

"More like Stripe is too huge to be mistaken for anything other than a deathclaw. I dunno. Just feels like it's been a wasted day."

"Well, it can't have been all bad," Cass sat up, leaned against me, draped an arm around my shoulder, and started counting off with her free hand. "Look at it like this: you've had some food, you got some rest, you haven't been shot at even once today..."

"Not being shot is definitely a point in today's favor, I'll give you that," I agreed.

"Exactly! Plus, you got to run into an old friend you haven't seen in years, and that's always good for a laugh."

I grimaced slightly. Yeah, it was certainly a novelty to run into her after all these years (and strangely gratifying to discover that she was still hot), but if I'm honest? She'd changed a lot, and not for the better. I'm not a fan of things like nightstalkers or cazadores, and I'll kill the damn things if they come at me with the intent of turning me into a sandwich, but... I dunno. The whole setup they had going on made me feel distinctly uncomfortable. Breeding these dangerous animals down there, locking them in filthy cages with no sunlight, and moving them from place to place by way of electrified cattle prods just so they could die viciously for amusement carried with it some rather unfortunate implications. And when she was talking about it, Jess seemed... just a little bit too in to it. I just couldn't understand how someone I used to know so well had become so... unrecognizable.

It almost made me wonder how I looked from her point of view.

"I think you're just saying that because you were too busy ogling her." I said, trying to force my train of thought back on the rails. I absentmindedly wrapped my hand around her waist as I talked, and Cass shrugged.

"Hey, I couldn't help it, she's a fox! You got good taste, man."

"Thanks for that," I sighed. "But let's be clear: the two of us bickering like that was par for the course, especially back in the day. Its fun at first, but it definitely gets old after a while... and after a while that was all we were doing."

"Sounds to me like you dodged a bit of a bullet, then," Cass said. I chuckled, smiling at her and drawing her closer.

"I guess so. I suppose I've always been lucky."

"Not always," Cass smiled back at me, waggling her eyebrows. "But probably tonight."