The Good Life: Atomic Cocktail (ch. 40) (Patreon)

“Hey, don't look at me. Cinder is the one with the issues here. That's all her,” I held my hands up underneath a withering glare from Asami. It was a rare thing that she ventured to this side of the Dias. Partly because things on her side were an absolute shit show, but mostly because she hated what we were building here.

“You allow her to do it,” Asami hissed at me, looking down at her cup of water like she was debating the merits of chucking it at my head. I kicked my feet up on my coffee table -- my penthouse had been renovated. First thing I got rid of was the two hundred year old spring mattress. The second were all the heads. It wasn't as nice as my last place, but I liked it all the same. “You could put an end to this with a snap of your fingers. I- I accepted that we would be using these… savages, but this is so far beyond that!”

She wasn't exactly wrong there. Cinder… honestly, Cinder took the responsibility of securing and managing the slave labor. I didn't want to do it, but given the current state of things, not even Asami could deny that we needed them. However, Cinder took the ball and ran with it, turning the Gulch into her own little slaver's paradise. Pretty much right out the gate, she went miles past ‘necessary slavery to support the colony’ to full on medieval slave trade.

I had absolutely no idea what Cinder's childhood looked like, but she was clearly going through some stuff and as far as I could tell, she relished the opportunity to be Madam Cinder. Which was part of the problem.

“Yeah, but I like Cinder and she likes doing things this way, so what can you do?” I shrugged and I saw that the desire to throw the glass was rising.

“You. Could. Stop. Her,” Asami bit the words out.

“Can? Absolutely,” I agreed. “Should I? How are things on your end?” I asked her and her jaw clenched before averting her eyes. That was answer enough.

Three months. It had been three months since our arrival, and while we got things up and running on this side, the Old World went straight to hell. Fallout and radiation set in, carried by storms. New York was one of the few bastions of civilization remaining, and at first survivors trickled that way. Then it became a flood.

And then resources started to dry up. Clean water. Food. Medicine.

People lost their fear. It was only natural when their immediate problems were starvation and radiation rather than a man that hadn't been seen in months. Just like the New World, things collapsed in on themselves. There were riots. Attacks. Sabotage. Murders. Just general chaos of people being angry and unleashing it upon the few that could help them. Things had reached their tipping point.

“New York has been picked clean. We're barely able to meet the quotas with farming and cloned food,” I continued. “You'd think a nuclear apocalypse would have killed more people,” I added, earning a sharp glare. New York had been depopulated because of the riots and gang wars that I had caused. But it had quickly filled back up to the point of bursting because word got out that New York was safe. The issue with that was all the damage I and Homelander did to the city came back to bite us as a lot of the inner systems like water or electricity had taken some hard knocks.

Some six million people had made their way to the city so far. And that was a lot. A whole lot. That number was manageable for now with a constant flow of imports, easily accessible water, and a ready policing force. At least in comparison to the hundred thousand of us that could barely sustain ourselves on this side of the portal.

“We have things under control,” Asami protested and I gave her a look.

“Barely. Things are sliding the wrong way on your side, and that's with this crap on mine,” I refuted. The crap in question being pieces of technology. This world had been bracing for a nuclear apocalypse long before it happened. The preparations came in little ways -- water filters that could purify radiation, drugs that not only prevented radiation damage but could siphon away the rads. These things were brought to us, sold, and then we shipped them to Asami to use or duplicate them. “Cinder's putting a price on talent and they're shipping it our way. Which helps you. And you help everyone.”

Asami grit her teeth, and I could tell that she wanted to argue. I agreed with some of her points, even. Cinder was doing things in just about the most fucked up manner that I could think of. On the other hand, Cinder wasn't challenging the natives. She was doing things their way, how they already did them, and any rules she implemented were merely slight adjustments to what they were already doing. She was just giving them a bigger stage, bigger paydays, and motivation to bring people that would help us in the long run.

It’s how we got our hands on talented people -- people that had something unique about them that enabled them to survive in the wasteland. People who knew how to make drugs, hack robots, build workable machines with scrap. Same with objects. Money was the bait, and with it Cinder went fishing to pick out those that brought something to the table.

“It's evil,” Asami spat out.

I didn't even disagree. “Yeah, it is. But, all signs point it to being a necessary one,” I said, keeping the sigh out of my voice. “It's Cinder's responsibility, so it's her call. You want her to do things differently, then take it up with her. But, so long as she's hitting the targets, I'm not going to get in her way.” I was always a rather hands off manager type, letting my talented underlings do their things their way. I pointed them in the direction I wanted, and they made their way there with their own means and methods.

Asami rubbed her forehead, her lips pressing into a thin line. So, I changed the subject. “We have scavenging trips today. It'll be a long one, but we have a few places that should be able to cross a few things off our wish list.” Chemicals to make the drugs Rad-X, Radaway, and Stimpacks. And one other thing that Asami was better off not knowing.

“I want to meet them,” Asami decided, and she really was a glutton for punishment. I shrugged, not really caring one way or the other. Though, maybe that wasn't true. Cinder had apparently found someone of interest, so I stood up and made a Room. It expanded, letting me catch a glimpse of the inner workings of my slice of Nuka-World. The markets, the housing, and the people.

The people were people of use. We couldn't afford to just flood the area with refugees -- both sides of the portal would collapse in that case. We brought over construction workers, gardeners, farmers, doctors, and even a few scientists. The rest were ex-military or members of my gang, all equipped with heavy duty weaponry. Most of the Supes were stuck on Asami's side to keep the peace for as long as they could. And, honestly, I'm impressed they managed to keep it for three months.

But everyone knew that it was only temporary. Unless something drastic happened, Asami's side would collapse in its entirety. My part in all of this was to get things ready for the sudden flood of people that would be coming our way and… we weren't ready for that either. Gardens were being set up, farms were being set up, and Asami was trying to recreate the Nuka-Gen-Replicator for mass production of meat. Because as it was, we only had the one and it couldn't match the demand.

My attention was drawn to a number of people in particular that were on the ground floor of my building. It was the barracks of my personal army. We arrived, swapping places with a few odds and ends I kept on the ground for a quick trip to see the people that would be braving the portal.

I recognized most of them. The Disciples, in the end, were too feral. A bunch of mass murderers. Not that I was throwing any stones. However, rather than let them kick their feet up and murder people that were useful, I decided that they would be better suited to this -- scavenging trips. I didn't even need to strap a bomb to most of them, they were happy for the chance to hunt, but I did have them put on to make sure they came back. And they were pretty useful as my mad dogs that I kept on a leash.

However, the one that drew my attention to her was a girl. Dark wavy hair, glasses, and a deep frown on her face. She wasn't pretty. More striking looking. But, I had heard what Cinder said about her -- she just needed to grow into herself. Which she would, I imagine, given that she was currently surrounded by giant insects.

Radroaches, bloatflies, and two giant ants. They were unnaturally still, all watching my arrival.

This place had Supes too, it seemed, given that there was no record of her passing through the portal. She cut an impressive figure, watching me carefully. Technically speaking, she was Cinder’s slave, but Taylor had jumped at the chance to join the scavenging mission. That told me she was here to stay as she regarded me coldly. I think she and Asami would get along because she was looking at me like she was debating which ribs to slip a knife between.

So, naturally, I smiled.

…

Things turned out pretty differently than Piper imagined, she thought, standing beside a slip of a little girl that controlled some deadly insects and before the man that brought her here. Well, not physically -- but he was the one that convinced her to venture out into the Wasteland to write up a story about the new raider Overboss, Heartless. Stir the pot a little bit back in Diamond City and, maybe, the Mayor would see that the raider gang was a real threat to the Commonwealth and not some far off threat.

“This is the first time for some of you, so I'll take it from the top -- you'll be going to the Old World to scavenge for supplies. Your leaders have lists of supplies and the maps necessary to get to your destination,” Heartless began and Piper couldn't quite get over how young he was. Late teens to early twenties, dark hair, clean shaven. Handsome. Very handsome.

Handsome in the kind of way that told Piper that he was a stranger to the true harshness of the Wasteland. He looked how people in magazines from the Old World looked -- clear skin, startling white and straight teeth, glossy soft hair.

Then he touched his neck, “We have our estimates for how long it'll take you to get there and get back. Each team will have a handler who you will check in with -- your handlers have the timer to the bombs around your necks. Failure to check in leads to your head being popped. However, we don't expect a quick and easy, in and out errand. You'll run into trouble. So, when you do, report in and you'll receive more time. But, go beyond the expected range, and your head goes pop. That understood?” He asked, a casual confidence in his voice as he stared everyone down.

Piper shivered a little when his gaze swept over her. She heard rumors about his apparent power -- though, she hadn't seen it herself yet. He apparently used it to arrive, but Piper hadn't been looking in his direction. However, even with power, it took something special to unite raider gangs. A charisma that made some of the most bloodthirsty monsters in the Wasteland listen and obey.

“All that being said, if you put in a little extra effort and come back with something special? You get the VIP treatment. So, get to it,” Heartless casually dismissed them-

Piper flinched when she realized she was suddenly standing outside. Her head whipped around and she saw that she wasn't the only one startled by the sudden arrival. However, their attention was quickly brought to the woman that was with Heartless. She was beautiful, around the same age, and while Heartless regarded them with a careless disregard, she looked at them with… remorse.

“Follow me and listen,” she said as Piper's gaze landed on another rumor that had caught her attention. It took many shapes, sizes, and no one was really certain what the truth was. Some said that it was from a pre-war cache, others said they were working with the Institute. The most outlandish rumors of them all seemed to be the truth -- that these people were from another world, because Piper didn't know how else to explain the portal that spiraled to life behind the woman.

Piper hesitantly followed, along with the others, entering a security checkpoint in what reminded her of what she imagined a Vault would be like-- before they went to hell. The same cold sterile feeling. While they followed, the woman spoke. “You'll be broken up into teams, each given a destination and equipment to get there,” she began as they got on a lift before being carried up. When the doors opened, Piper saw what she could only describe as organized chaos.

A lobby that was filled with people, voicing concerns and complaints. Which quickly turned into gasps and fearful mutterings the moment they saw Taylor's insects. Piper searched people's faces, finding that they had taken some hard knocks -- they looked tired, hungry, and afraid. Her gaze drifted over one in particular, a handsome man with a shaved head and a rough beard, wearing rags… that allowed her to just barely catch a glimpse of what looked to be… gills?

The man and some others were allowed on the same lift that they came up in, taking them down towards the portal. A transfer, Piper realized, keeping mental notes. She hadn't planned on becoming a slave, but it did let her get a real look at the raiders of Nuka-World. And she was starting to see what they were -- refugees, and of all things, the Wastelands were their safe havens.

The group was led to a number of vehicles that Piper saw were being guarded by a mutated woman -- white hair, red eyes, with rabbit ears and a tail. “We have a path, but they've wisened up. They'll let you through easily enough, but only because they know you'll have more on the way back.” The woman said while Piper looked at the vehicles. They were hauling trucks that were augmented by armored plating. Some even had a ram.

Almost as if to agree with her, Piper heard the sounds of gunfire off in the distance. The camp outside of the building was overcrowded and fearful. Piper suspected that they would have already started rioting if it wasn't for the fearful looks at the mutated woman or the armed guards that were posted everywhere. It distracted her as they were broken up into groups -- Piper found herself with Taylor, to her relief, a red haired woman named Cait, another woman with dark hair and eyes named Dixie, and a final man named Yoren.

They were the smallest of the groups, but given Taylor was a ‘Supe’, it more than balanced things. Yoren was the only one that could drive between them, and they all loaded up into the trucks. When the gates opened up, they drove forward in a convoy while Piper looked out the window, marveling at what she saw. It was like stepping back in the past to two hundred years ago.

There were people on the streets appearing every bit as haggard as any other waster. The streets themselves had been purposely cleared, leading to a bridge. The last remaining bridge to the city, if the map was to be believed. Piper saw corpses on the streets as well, in the back alleys where people were murdered for the little that they had. “What happened to this place?”

“Same thing that happened to us -- fools went and dropped the bombs,” Dixie answered, looking over at Piper from the other window seat. Yoren drove in silence, Taylor sat in the front seat while Cait sat in the middle. Over Taylor’s shoulder, Piper saw the route that they would be taking. A long journey to a place called Bloomberg, Pennsylvania -- more than a hundred miles away.

Piper filed that away for later, “And what exactly are we getting?” She asked, continuing to look over Taylor’s shoulder. There were alternative routes, locations marked where hostiles were encountered, and even safehouses. Despite everything looking like it was clinging by their fingernails, there was a pretty smooth operation set up.

“Don’t matter a bit,” Cait said with an accent that Piper took a second to comprehend. She looked perfectly at ease with the bomb collar around her neck, though she did seem to be watching Dixie like a radscorpian. “We just grab what we’re told to grab, load everything up in this here truck, and then we’re sittin golden. Do ya’self a favor and don’t bother asking any questions -- you ain’t likely to be getting any answers.”

Fat chance of that, Piper thought to herself with a snort. She was here to ask questions. Nat, her little sister, would be safe in Dimond City -- Piper had arrangements in case something ever happened to her. While, initially, she intended to be a tourist visiting the city for trade… she had the misfortune of being recognized, captured, enslaved, and then sold. And now she was here, in another world, recruited into one of these scavenging runs.

And she wasn’t entirely sure why.

“You’ve done these before?” Piper questioned, and Cait rolled her eyes at the question, but she answered all the same.

“Happens once a week, and I’ve been at it for a month now,” Cait answered. Four runs, then. “The collar is the worst of it, but the rest is all butter.”

“Aren’t you a pit fighter?” Taylor suddenly spoke up, and despite being the youngest, there was a coldness in her voice. She didn’t even look away from the map as she spoke.

“Aye, that’s how I got me start. Used to be a prize fighter back in Boston, but caught word of this here place. Found out about the scavenging trips from the VIPs -- practically treated like fuckin’ royalty. Food, booze, chems -- the bloody works. Signed on and reserved my spot since,” Cait answered, a satisfied smile on her face before her gaze flickered to Piper, running her eyes over the length of her body in a way that Piper wasn’t sure she was comfortable with. “Still prize fight, but moonlightin’ with these little trips let's you rake in the caps if you know what you're doin’.”

To that, Dixie hummed and Piper glanced at her. Dixie was a native, of that she had no doubt. Dyed purple hair, pretty but in a haggard kind of way. Her eyes though… Piper fought a shiver when their gaze met. Dixie, without a shadow of a doubt, was a killer. You didn't last long in the Wasteland If you couldn't recognize them and fast.

However, before Dixie could say anything, Piper heard a gunshot a split second before she heard a ‘plink.’ “Looks like potshots,” Yoren spoke up, pressing down on the gas to speed up as we caught sight of the bridge. It looked like a warzone, Piper thought, complete with people laying on the ground dead. A fortified position that was pointed both out to the bridge and inwards to the city. A checkpoint that could be lost, even if the control on the inner city slipped.

The gunshots weren't an attack, Piper agreed -- just someone voicing their displeasure. The check point seemed to expect them and Piper saw that it was manned by two men. Well, boys would be a better description. They seemed to be brothers, though one was wearing a costume of golden armor. He looked like he had stepped out of a comic book. The gate to the checkpoint opened up, and Piper saw that there were people being filtered through in groups. She caught a glimpse of a man with a heavy looking shield on his back, half covered by a backpack, doing what sure looked like a bribe.

Then the other gate opened up, revealing the bridge and… “Oh,” Piper whispered, looking at a bridge full of refugees with a lane marked for their passage. That didn't stop people from hurling things their way. Piper looked out the window to see hundreds, if not thousands, of people camping out on the bridge in absolute destitution. Trying to get into the city where things honestly weren't much better.

“More of ‘em keep on coming,” Cait agreed with the sentiment. “That checkpoint woulda been overrun if it wasn't for them Supes. ‘pparently they're bulletproof.” Meaning that regular people didn't have any means to force their way through.

Piper watched them go by in silence, watching as hundreds of people voiced their rage. As they begged. They were completely oblivious to the fact that everyone in the cars all had ticking time bombs strapped to their necks. The numbers began to ease off as they reached the end of the bridge, but Piper still saw another three groups making their way to the bridge where they would join all the others.

The convoy began to split up as they all had different destinations.

Despite herself, Piper found her gaze glued to the window, watching the world go by. It was completely unlike anything she had ever seen before. There was so much green, too much even -- green leaves, green grass, green bushes and shrubs. It was a world that she only saw in old photos, magazines, and holotapes. She would have been content to simply watch the world go by, but the road was hardly cleared the further away they got from New York.

“Hot spot coming up -- time for another dose of Rad-X,” Yoren said, opening the center console to take out a pill bottle. It was a far cry from the scribbled on container with a piece of tape that she learned to expect. The pills still looked the same, she thought, knocking it back in time to hear the geiger counter start to spike. Rad-X on the way there, with Radaway waiting for them on arrival -- as far as scavenging gigs went, it was probably the best one Piper had heard of.

The geiger counter filled the truck as they pressed on in silence, hearing the occasional spike as they steadily made their way to their destination. Occasionally, they had to get out to move cars out of the way, and Piper was fascinated to watch Taylor as she wordlessly had the two giant ants pushing the cars aside effortlessly. It wasn't said in so many words, but there was little doubt in Piper's mind that she was the unspoken leader of their group.

Piper realized she had probably traveled more distance than she ever did in the Wasteland. All in the span of a few hours. And while she could almost see what the world would look like in a few hundred years -- rusted out car frames on the road, dilapidated buildings, and broken asphalt, she could also see their destination.

“It's occupied,” Taylor spoke up, her voice neutral. Piper looked out of what seemed to be a gated community, with an emphasis on gated. They were about half a mile out, and Piper didn't see anything beyond a large wall that had been reinforced with cars and wire fencing.

“How can you tell a thing like that?” Cait wondered, and Piper silently agreed.

Taylor didn't answer for a moment, staring hard at their destination. She didn't answer for long enough that Piper figured that she wouldn't. “My power has a range. Around two city blocks, but since there are fewer insects in the world… instead of controlling millions in a couple hundred feet, I'm controlling hundreds in thousands.” The admission was terse, and Piper nodded slowly.

There weren't many bugs in the Wasteland, and from what she saw, Taylor managed to find most of them in Nuka-World.

“We don't have the numbers to strike them,” Yoren spoke up. “Supposed to be some repository for some company. Bought, or something. If people are here, then we mark it and come back next week with more raiders.” Piper's blood went cold at that, her breath hitching in her throat.

“The supplies were marked as critical,” Taylor said, holding up the list of things they were to retrieve. Red stars meant that they were the highest priority. There were a number of things that had a red star next to them, but the one that caught her attention was the one at the top of the list.

Compound V.

Cait, however, seemed unbothered by the thought of raiding or the odds. “I say we smash and grab the cunts. I want that VIP treatment!” Based on the track marks Piper saw on Caits arm, by that, she meant she wanted to get high.

“Dixie,” Taylor spoke up, her gaze focused on the settlement. “You've done the most runs, right?”

Dixie seemed faintly surprised at being addressed, but she gave a wolfish smile. “Since the very start.”

“What would Heartless want us to do?” She asked, and Piper had a sinking feeling that she knew the answer to that.

Dixie's smile grew, “Overboss likes initiative. Rewards it well too. It doesn't even matter what you do, so long as you show him that you're a go getter, he'll treat you right.” Piper gave Dixie a glance, her gaze flickering down to her collar. Piper wasn't sure she liked the sound of that.

Taylor was silent for another long moment, their course of action hinging on her decision.

“Then we take what's on the list,” Taylor decided, her voice unyielding like iron. “I'm jamming the guns. They don't have many people. Smash through the gate,” she ordered, already bracing herself for impact. Dixie gave a hoot while Cait let out a laugh. Piper was silent as the grave while Yoren revved the engine.

She hadn't realized it, Piper reflected as they surged forward.

The one she should have been afraid of was Taylor all along.