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The Good Life: Crawl Out Through The Fallout (ch. 39)
🕑 Added 2024-03-08 15:55:30 +0000 UTCTaylor Hebert ran for her life, her lungs burning, her legs aching, each breath coming as a desperate gasp. A loud crack before the sound of something whizzing by her ear made her breathing hitch as a plume of dust from the sandy dirt went up a dozen feet ahead of her. It was nothing short of a miracle that she hadn't been hit. That the bullet hadn't hit someone else.
A dozen people moved with her, all running in the same general direction. Each one as exhausted as she felt. Men, women, children -- the only thing that they all seemed to have in common was the collars around their necks.
It felt especially restrictive as Taylor gulped down air, her heart hammering in her chest. Another crack of gunfire echoed out in the night, making Taylor flinch, half anticipating pain that never arrived. They had the darkness working in their favor -- the sky was filled with stars, but they didn't offer much light. The sparse forest and lopsided land offered some cover. Taylor desperately wished that she could know what was going on behind her, but she didn't even dare look.
She didn't want to know how close they were. She didn't want to see their numbers. It had been dumb luck and careful planning that they managed to seize the chance to escape, and Taylor found her blood filled with ice at the idea of getting recaptured.
Because she wasn't looking back, she saw the exact moment that a woman in front of her tripped on a dead root that was half buried in the soil. “Shi-oof!” The woman yelped, hitting the ground. As soon as she did, she was pushing herself up in a mad scramble, only to fall again, clutching at her ankle that had been caught by the dead root. She still hobbled forward and-
“Come on!” It was a snap decision, grabbing the woman and half pulling her forward despite her ankle. The woman looked surprised, her brown hair a tangled mess and her eyes wide.
“No-! Don't! Just leave me!” The woman exclaimed, pushing Taylor forward as she hobbled on an injured ankle. “Go! Get out of here!”
Taylor froze for a moment -- it would be a lie to say that she wasn't tempted to do just that. It was the smart thing to do and she could hear their pursuers getting closer. She didn't know what she could do if they caught up. But that part of herself that told her to run was drowned out.
A hero. She wanted to be a hero.
“No, just give me your arm!” Taylor hissed, grabbing it and throwing it over her shoulder, forcing the woman to lean on her. The woman, despite her protest, didn't have it in her to deny the help even if the two of then were slowed down. Too much. Taylor looked ahead to see that the others were pulling ahead, paying them no mind-
Taylor felt something hitting her in the back before her body immediately went numb. Her legs locked up and she would have fallen flat on her face if it wasn't for the woman catching her. She looked down at Taylor for a moment, then back at the incoming people… and Taylor saw her make a decision.
“I'm sorry,” the woman told her, her voice just above a whisper before unceremoniously dropping Taylor. Betrayal stung in her chest as Taylor watched the woman try to hobble away, fleeing as fast as she could with an injured leg. She was trying to go in a different direction than the others. Taylor tried to move but her limbs felt like they belonged to someone else.
She hadn't even managed to flip herself over until she felt a boot press into her side to roll her over. Her heart plunged to her stomach when she saw a scarred face peering down at her with beady dark eyes. He was someone that could have been handsome, but deep pockmarks marred his skin that hung too loose from his skull.
“Got this bitch! Get the others!” Taylor heard him bark as he held up what hit Taylor in the back -- a tranquilizer. “I saw one of ‘em go off that way,” he added, and Taylor saw the people that had been following them arrive. One broke off to follow the woman that Taylor tried to save and Taylor felt a bitterness pool in her gut. She didn't have any time to dwell on it because the man above her smacked her hard.
It was a cold comfort that Taylor couldn't feel it. “You dumb bunch of fucking slaves, making me haul ass after you. Fuck!” He sounded out of breath and when Taylor averted her eyes, he grabbed her by the face and forced her to look up at him. She smelled rot on his breath. “How about you pay me back a little, hm?” Her blood turned to ice -- she couldn't really feel anything, but she knew where he just placed his hand.
Despite herself, Taylor felt tears well in her eyes. Why her? Why was this happening to her?
It started when she had been shoved in that locker with festering filth, feeling insects swarm over her, biting her. She screamed and pounded on the locker door, knowing that other people were out there, but they weren't letting her out. She just heard laughter. Until, suddenly, she didn't.
The locker that she had been trapped in suddenly gave out, and Taylor found herself in a dead world. Every day since only seemed to get worse from there.
The man started working on her pants button while Taylor choked back a sob. At least until she saw another figure appear behind the man, roughly kicking him in the side and throwing him off of Taylor. “Hands off the merchandise, Butch,” he barked, making Butch scramble to his feet, appearing chastised.
“Devan, I was-” He started to protest, but Devan silenced him with a look.
“You were about to knock off half her value, and another half with that diseased piece of meat you call a cock,” Devan growled. Taylor struggled to swallow the sob that bubbled up in her chest. She looked up at him, recognizing him as the leader of the slavers that took her. That took the others. He was in his thirties, dark hair, blue eyes, a bushy beard with a long scar starting at his chin and ending at his ear.
He might of saved her from being raped, but he looked down at her coldly. “One of these collars being a dud, I could accept. But fifteen of ‘em?” He remarked, grabbing her by the collar that bit into her skin. “What did you lot do to ‘em?”
She’d jammed the signal for the explosive. It was dumb luck. Pure dumb luck.
It had taken her a month to realize that she had powers. That she was a cape. It had been another cruel joke to find out that she had the single most useless power imaginable -- she could control insects. Maybe, in her own world, that could have been at least a little useful, but in this world? This dead world?
The only insects she had found were radroaches -- cockroachs the size of a small dog. Not particularly fearsome. Nothing to stop her being taken. Then, enroute to their destination, they came just close enough to a swarm of bloat flies. It had been a task keeping their existence a secret as they followed at a distance, breeding them for some larvae that were small enough to slip into the gaps of their collars and to jam the transmitters that would make their collars explode if they tried to run.
It was for that reason that they managed to get away.
Devan didn't expect an answer, simply dropping her where she laid. And she was forced to lay there, slowly regaining sensation in her body while there wasn't a single insect to be found around them. No flies, no worms, not even lice. Little by little, they were joined by others, the air filled with panicked screaming as slaves were dragged back to their captors.
They were thrown together once again, this time an armed guard watching them.
Only one managed to get away.
The woman that Taylor tried to save was the last to get brought back.
She couldn't meet her gaze.
…
“What is this place…?” Taylor wondered, feeling haggard and sore, blisters forming on her feet from walking all day. It looked like an amusement park, if she had to guess. Nuka-World. She had found a bottle of nuka-cola in her early days in this world, which saved her from dying of thirst. It tasted like off-brand coke that had gone flat.
“This is civilization, girl,” Devan told her as he shoved her forward and, with a wince, she did so. She looked around the entrance to see that there were a number of people milling about -- all of them armed. Guards, Taylor realized. The buildings showed signs of refurbishment, the streets cleared… Taylor even saw people repainting the signs.
Devan pulled ahead when they neared a train station, finding a man seated in a booth before a set of double doors. He looked like a bookkeeper with a set of glasses and thinning hair. He also looked like the healthiest person she had seen so far, complete with straight white teeth. “Business?”
“Trade. Slaves. Six men, eight women,” Devan said, and the bookkeeper’s eyes went to her. Taylor wasn’t sure what she should do, and ended up shying away from his gaze. “General auction for six men, and seven of the women- I have one special auction for this one,” he said, ushering her forward. The bookkeeper gave her a quick once over before looking back at Devan.
“You’re cutting it close with that one,” the bookkeeper remarked lightly. What did he mean by that?
“She just doesn’t have any tits,” Devan said and Taylor didn’t even have it in her to be insulted. It was different than when Emma or Sophia said it -- they said it to be cruel, while the slaver remarked on it like he was talking about the weather. She’d almost prefer it if he wasn’t trying to sell her into slavery. “Girl, how old are you?”
Taylor flinched at suddenly being addressed. She licked her lips, her gaze flickering to the bookkeeper, hoping for a hint one way or the other, only to find his face indifferent. Wilting a bit under the slaver’s stare, she answered, “... fifteen?”
The slaver nodded, “See?” Taylor swallowed a cursed, realizing that she should have lied.
“Hm. Too young for sex work, but I see no issue,” he said, making the slaver scowl while Taylor shuddered, realizing what she had just escaped. “It will restrict which auction she can go in, so be mindful-”
“Come on, man -- work with me a little. She practically sixteen, on my word,” the slaver started to protest, only to fall off when the bookkeeper held his gaze flatly for a very long moment, prompting Devan to reach into his pocket and pull out some bottle caps, placing them on the table under his hand. “Twenty caps your way and today's her birthday, yeah?”
“She is below the cut off,” the bookkeeper replied, his tone flat, saying nothing of the bribe.
Devan forced a smile onto his face. “Fifty, then?” Bottle caps. She was being sold for bottle caps.
The bookkeeper held his gaze for a moment long, his gaze flickering to her for but a moment, before he offered the shallowest of nods. “Go to the Gulch and register her there, the auction house belongs to Madam Cinder. Take this pass,” The bookkeeper said, writing in a form before sliding it to Devan. As he did, the bookkeeper palmed the bottle caps and brought them to him. Taylor watched the exchange happen, feeling…
Numb. Almost as if she was watching it happen to someone else.
Not even Emma and Sophia at their worst had managed to do something like this. They had tormented her, bullied her relentlessly, turned everyone in Winslow against her, and shattered any trust that she had in the teachers who worked in that school…
But they could have never managed this. They had never managed to kill the last shred of hope and dignity that she had left.
“Madam Cinder?” Devan questioned, and the bookkeeper didn’t even look up as he answered.
“She is in charge of all slave related matters within Nuka-World -- sales, purchases, treatment, and laws,” he stated. “She runs the auction house in the Gulch. All of them, in truth. But, if you're trying to sell her virginity, then you'll want to go to Madam Cinder.”
“You're a lifesaver, mate,” Devan replied, taking the pass and, with that, they were allowed through the checkpoint.
Listlessly, she followed Devan, joined by the others as they stepped into a refurbished-looking train. She took a seat by a window, looking out of it with dull eyes. She didn’t even have it in her to cry. The theme park began to race closer and closer as they traveled over-
Taylor felt something. It lasted only for a second, but she felt something below. An insect. A big one? Bigger than a radroach or bloatfly, at the very least. She nearly jolted, the normal absent sense that registered nothing suddenly getting a brief control over something beneath the train. It left her control not a second later, but she felt another enter her range a few seconds after that.
Insects. This place had insects. Bugs had always creeped her out before, but now Taylor nearly sobbed with relief at their presence. If they were there, and if they were as large as she thought they were, then she could escape. She could fight back.
Something resembling a plan started to form in her mind as they arrived at the park itself. The doors opened, and rather than listlessly watching the world go by, she focused and looked for what she could use. The train station seemed to be a market area with the gift shops being converted into stalls for food, weapons, clothing, and more. Taylor saw that a number of people behind the counters all wore bomb collars.
There were more people in the market than Taylor had seen in the months she had to have been in this world a hundred times over. Dozens of people trading goods, creating a mess of noise that Taylor found that she had missed. She grew up in Brockton Bay, and even months later, she wasn't used to the silence of this world.
Devan led them through, taking them into the heart of the park that she saw open up significantly. It was an odd blend of people, Taylor saw. The area was made up of hotels that seemed to have been rebuilt, or at least refortified, but there still wasn't quite enough room so there were areas that had once been restaurants being turned into refugee camps. Others became marshalls where a large number of people gathered.
At the heart of it all was an odd-looking platform that was under guard by a dozen people, all of whom were under a large tent. Taylor's gaze lingered on it for a moment before they were ushered on by the slavers.
“This place is somethin’ else. Looks more like the Pit,” Taylor heard Devan mutter, watching as a couple of slaves were installing solar panels to the tops of buildings. Others were installing gardens underneath the windows, or hanging gardens on the walls -- some were already being harvested. Tomatoes. Taylor's stomach clenched as she shoved away a reminder that she had barely eaten in the past week. “You think this is what the old world used to look like?”
Taylor's gaze drifted to one of the buildings, and through the cleaned glass, she saw an arena. A red headed woman was fighting bare knuckled against another, and it seemed like she was winning. The only thing off about it was that they were both naked. They moved on, crossing a bridge-
She felt another bug enter her range. Her breath hitched, but beyond that, she gave no indication. They were going slower this time, so the insect managed to stay within her range and took control over it, ordering it to follow them. She couldn't tell what it was, exactly, but she knew that it could travel underground, letting it remain hidden as they made their way to the Gulch.
The Gulch was a cowboy themed amusement park. Only unlike the rest of the park, there was no mistaking what this place was. Taylor looked on in horror as they were greeted with an auction near the gate. A platform, which probably had been a gallows, had a crowd around it. On the platform itself were a number of men and women, wearing only boxers, panties, and bras as people shouted bids out.
“Butch,” Devan said to his right-hand man. “Find an auction and sell off the rest. I’ll take this one to the Madam, see if I can get a good price for her.” Devan instructed, and Taylor realized that this was one of several auctions that were happening. Most of them were pretty small, with the one at the gate being the largest, but Taylor saw individual sales. It was…
This place… was evil. Evil in the kind of way that Taylor had never experienced before. She grew up hearing the rumors, of course, of Lung and his illegal brothels. Of the Empire 88 talking about slavery. But it was her first time seeing it with her own two eyes. And a flicker of anger burned in her chest as the insect beneath her feet seemed to find a preexisting network of tunnels because it managed to move with far greater ease.
Devan pulled Taylor out of the chain of people to walk off. She felt stares on her back, but Taylor didn’t meet any of them, focusing on what she could do. There were a lot of people, she noted. A lot of slaves. And a lot of armed guards. They passed by a brothel in what looked like a wild west saloon, then a robot with a sheriff badge on his chest that greeted everyone with a ‘howdy partner.’
They passed by wild west styled buildings, and unlike the other part of the park, this one didn’t seem overrun with people. There were still a number of them -- hundreds, easily -- but not to the point that people were camping in the back alleys. Though, Taylor did notice that some buildings were being put up, filling in the empty spaces, and they were even the same style of buildings to maintain the theme.
The rest of the world seemed to have ended, but this place… it was rebuilding. And it was being rebuilt by absolute scum.
Devan led her to what seemed to be one of the rollercoasters that she saw snaked around the park -- Mad Mullgen’s Mine, it was apparently called. Stepping inside… it almost looked like home, Taylor realized. A waiting area, a gift shop off to the side -- only instead of knicknacks that would gather dust on a shelf, they were selling people. All the same, she followed, keeping careful care to keep the insect beneath her ready. There was a large network of tunnels running beneath the building. This was likely a nest, at one point.
“Sale of one,” Devan said, approaching the counter and sliding the form he got from the bookkeeper to the woman behind it. Another slave named Ashley based on the name tag -- red hair, blue eyes, seemingly in her late twenties to early thirties. Ashley looked down at the form, then to him, before offering a small nod.
“You have great timing -- we were just about to cut off this timeslot. It’ll be a bit of a rush, but we can get her ready in about thirty minutes,” Ashley informed in a voice that sounded like practiced retail. Which… didn’t really make sense? This world ended. So did retail stores, she imagined. “Here is a contract -- the Auction House takes a standard ten percent of each sale, it may sound like a lot, but we cater to a rich clientele that seek unique slaves, or ones that possess specific abilities, talents, and skills. Furthermore, all sales are final upon the first bid. Any disruptions to the auction, or attempts to inflate prices, can result in fines, barring from the premises, and even enslavement should you be unable to repay any damages incurred. Do you understand-”
“Yeah, yeah -- I got it,” Devan said, scribbling down his name on a dotted line.
Ashley gave a very practiced smile, “Thank you for your cooperation. The auction starts in thirty minutes. As a seller, you have reserved seating in the auditorium. I hope you have a lovely day,” she said, inclining her head to Devan as Taylor saw two men approaching. She went still, her gaze flickering to their guns…
Not now, Taylor decided, lowering her head and meekly following them as she was escorted away from Devan. They led her through what she imagined were the employee tunnels, taking her to what she could only describe as a slave pen. There were a number of people underneath a tarp that seemed to be some small attraction within the roller coaster itself. She caught a glimpse of the walkways that would have gone by it for the people waiting in line.
There was a small shack that she was escorted into and there, Taylor didn’t know what to expect. However, it wasn’t to come face to face with a woman who barely glanced her way. “Strip down and get in the shower,” she instructed and Taylor… if she was being perfectly honest, she didn’t hesitate as much as she should have. Once she heard the word shower, despite her many and severe reservations, she began to peel off her clothing.
Naked, except for the thick collar around her neck, she stepped underneath the water and-
A sob nearly escaped her when she felt hot water for the first time in what felt like an eternity. It washed over her, soaking her hair that fell around her face in clumps, the water coming off of her was grimy brown. She tried to swallow back the sob, but it burned in her throat. She never felt so diminished. She could see every rib that she had, and while she was always skinny, she was more scrawny now.
“That’s long enough in the shower,” the woman from before informed and Taylor was reluctant to leave. So, the choice was robbed from her when the hot water suddenly vanished. The woman was standing there, looking at her and, reflexively, Taylor covered herself. “Uncover yourself -- I need to know what I’m working with. Doesn’t seem to be much, though…” she added and Taylor flushed despite herself, the words burning at her tatter self esteem. “Take a seat.”
“... why?” Taylor questioned, cautiously doing as she was told. She sat down in a chair, still dripping wet, but from the feel of the chair, she wasn’t the first to sit in it.
The woman took out a straight razor, “We need to clean you up for sale, girl. A wash did the bulk of the work, but not all of it.” She said, and Taylor quickly realized what she meant when she began to apply shaving cream to Taylor’s legs and… she closed her eyes for it all. Her legs were shaved, as were her arms and armpits. Most humiliating of all was her groin, which was reduced rather than shaven because she didn’t have enough curves to convince anyone that she was a woman rather than a girl.
However, Taylor broke when she brought out a mirror and Taylor saw her hair. The one thing that she had been proud of when she came to looks. The same hair that she shared with her mother. And it was a tangled rats nest from neglect. The woman went to start hacking at it, and for the first time, Taylor flinched, “Please… don’t.” She said, not looking at her.
There was a brief pause before Taylor heard a soft sigh. “Alright. I’ll need to trim some of it up, but… alright.” She offering in a quiet voice and if it wasn’t for the circumstances, Taylor could have believed that she was in a saloon. The woman had to trim more than Taylor wanted, but she was able to salvage her hair, styling it so it fell to her shoulders.
Looking in the mirror, Taylor thought she almost looked like herself again.
“Is this her?” Taylor heard and looked over to see a woman dressed in red that hugged her curves. Instantly, Taylor became self conscious of her nudity. And her appearance, as dumb as it was. The woman was beautiful. The kind of beautiful that you saw on the covers of magazines after all the imperfections were airbrushed away. Dark black hair, amber colored eyes, tall but not freakishly tall like she was. The woman oozed confidence and power, looking down at Taylor in a way that made her want to curl up into a ball.
“She is, Madam,” the woman said, bowing and Taylor’s blood turned to ice. This was Cinder? The one that ran this vile place?
“Stand,” Cinder ordered with the ease of someone that used to being obeyed and, in that moment, Taylor was reminded of Emma and she hated Cinder that much more. Even if Cinder was worse than Emma could have ever hoped to be. Hesitantly, Taylor began to rise to her feet, considering something. The insect was underneath them.
Taylor could probably kill her. Or at least hurt her.
She had to hold that thought back with cold logic -- even if she managed to kill Cinder, Taylor would still die. She wouldn’t get away from a hail of gunfire. And, even if she did, things would keep going as they were. So, she swallowed her dark impulse and tried to not flinch when Cinder reached out, lifting Taylor’s chin to make Taylor look at her.
“You’ll be pretty in a few years,” Cinder said and Taylor… honestly, she didn’t know how to process the compliment. Which made what came next sting that much more. “You don’t have any tits to speak of and it’d take some food and work to fatten up your ass. I’m not sure a virgin pussy really qualifies as something unique, but I’m sure someone would buy you.” Taylor held her gaze and Cinder smiled.
“You have a spine. I don’t see a meek little girl,” Cinder continued and Taylor, for the briefest of seconds, thought she had been caught. “That makes this simpler -- your seller, Devan, has broken the rules of my establishment. He tried to peddle under aged flesh at my auction.”
Taylor couldn’t help herself. “You’re okay with slavery, so long as they’re old enough?” She bit the words out, watching Cinder warily. She knew? About Devan?
Cinder gave her a cruel, teasing smile. “If it were up to me, I’d be perfectly happy to throw you into a stockade and charge a handful of caps to anyone that wanted to fuck you.” There wasn’t an ounce of remorse or an apology in those words. Just cold truth that made a shiver race down Taylor’s spine. “However, it’s not up to me. Heartless granted me autonomy to manage the slave pens as I saw fit, on the condition that some guidelines be followed.”
Cinder had a boss. For some reason, Taylor found that surprising. The bookkeeper had mentioned that she was the Madam of slavery, meaning that she wasn’t the one in charge of this awful evil place. Just this part of it. “You… the bookkeeper passed the message along?”
“Indeed. He gets to keep any bribes he receives and a bonus for reporting who bribes him and why,” Cinder seemed pleased that she figured that much out.
Taylor worked her jaw, processing all of it. “What does this mean for me? What happens to Devan?”
To that Cinder tilted her head, “That would depend on you. Devan is partner to a much larger band of slavers that we have connections with. His crew needs to be apprehended, but I wish for minimal disruptions to my operations. There is an opportunity -- no one’s guard is lower than when they think they got away with something.” Instantly, Taylor knew what she meant by that.
“You want me-” She cut herself off and Cinder nodded, not a hint of mercy to be found in her eyes.
“Yes. I want you to play your part. You’ll be ‘sold’ to an associate of mine, and Devan will receive his caps. When he is alone, likely drunk with one of my whores, I’ll have him arrested,” Cinder confirmed. “Normally, I wouldn’t bother informing you of this until the arrest was made, but I have been informed that my way of doing things causes… undue stress, I believe the phrase was.”
Taylor held Cinder’s gaze and felt a flash of dark hate. Real hate. This woman was evil. Still, she swallowed thickly, thinking it over as fast as she could. “You didn’t answer my question. What happens to Devan?” She asked, trying to sound as calm as possible.
“In the most likely case? A fine,” Cinder replied and… Taylor clenched her jaw, calming herself even as the insect beneath them coiled, ready to strike. Cinder cocked her head, searching Taylor’s face for a moment, and for some awful reason, she seemed to approve of what she saw in her gaze. “Well? Will you play your part? Oh, and I suppose I should have made it clear -- you’ll have your freedom once you do.”
This awful… bitch.
Taylor jerked a nod, clenching her jaw so hard that her teeth ached. Cinder patted her on the cheek, “Good girl.” With that, Cinder walked away, the door opening by… a pretty girl -- blonde hair, blue eyes, but she was wearing what looked like a BDSM outfit. And when the blonde girl walked away, Taylor saw that she had a butt plug that read ‘Butt Slut’ on it. That was… Taylor wasn’t even sure what that was.
The despair and anguish that had dominated every thought turned into an ice cold anger. It settled in her gut as she was dried off, but not given any clothes before being shoved out into the pen area just in time to see the rest of the men and women there being escorted down the tunnel that had once been a rollercoater tunnel.
Taylor took her place in the order, towards the back, and they marched forward. A thick curtain was up on a stage that had been assembled over where the roller coasters were loaded up. A glance between the curtains revealed a makeshift auditorium with expensive looking couches and tables layered up. They were all filled, Taylor noticed. And everything looked… new. Something was going on here, unless they happened to find a bunch of sealed furniture and decided to haul it here.
“Greetings! Greetings! Welcome to today’s main event!” A… robot announced, flying to the center of the stage. A ball with arms and eyes jutting out of it, with a thruster keeping it afloat in the air. “We have a few late additions to today’s itinerary, complete with a few special items!” Items. The robot was calling them items. “So, let us begin with the first item, something that I’m sure has caught your attention!”
The first of them were marched out as the robot spoke, “To some, she may be a familiar face if you come the way of Diamond City! A genuine celebrity! Piper Wright!” The robot announced and Taylor saw the woman glaring out at the crowd, unashamed and unafraid. Dark hair that fell to her shoulders, dark eyes. There were a few scars on her body -- a gunshot, one that looked like a deep cut, and a burn on her thigh. “Her prior vocation was a reporter! It would seem that she got the wrong end of a story! At twenty three years old, she boasts the skills of a sharp shooter, a quick thinker, and a true beauty! The starting bid is one thousand caps.”
Taylor found herself admiring Piper a bit when people began to silently raise paddles with numbers on them to meet the bid. A thousand caps became a thousand five hundred, then two thousand, before the final bid was two thousand five hundred. Piper seemed unafraid as she was bid on, her jaw clenched and staring ahead. She didn't even look away when she was escorted off the stage.
The auction wasn't just for slaves, Taylor learned. Weapons. Food. Entertainment such as rarer books, games, and even a flat-screen TV. The slaves that were sold, Taylor saw a theme with them. Piper was apparently a famous journalist. Others knew how to make drugs. How to repair or hack robots and computers. People weren't so much as buying slaves but buying skill sets. Then there was her.
All too quickly, Taylor was shoved forward onto the stage, ushered to take the same place as everyone had before her. Taylor found herself trembling despite herself as she stood, looking out into the crowd, completely naked. from where she stood, she mostly just saw darkness with blinding lights illuminating her. The robot shifted and in the same voice as all the others, he called out.
“A fair maiden! Hands soft as silk, but skilled in the art of love! Yet, her heart and body remain pure!” The robot called out and Taylor… she peered into the darkness, searching it, willing the curtain of blackness to be peeled away so she could see the faces in the crowd. The very first she saw was Cinder, who sat dead center, looking right at Taylor. The blonde haired woman leaned into her, but when their eyes met, Cinder raised her wine glass. “A virgin at sixteen years old. Saving herself for her one true love -- and they say true love is dead! While love itself shall remain priceless, our fair maiden is decided not! The starting bid is… five hundred caps!”
Indignation flowed through Taylor's veins like fire, looking to everyone who raised their paddles. A man. A woman. She clenched her hands into fists until the knuckles turned white. The tears that burned at her eyes weren't tears of humiliation. They were tears of rage. The bid was increased to six hundred. Then seven. Then eight. With each bid, Taylor saw fewer paddles go up until there were only two.
Both of them men. Taylor clenched her teeth, glaring at them both while the insect beneath them writhed with tension, ready to strike. It was only now that Taylor considered it, but what if Cinder was lying? What if she told her that, only to keep her docile?
“I'll bite it the fuck off!” Taylor yelled out at the crowd, directly at the two men. She would survive this. She would escape. She would have her freedom. The reaction was little more than a ripple, telling Taylor that she was hardly the first to protest her enslavement to her would-be buyers. She just needed the right moment at the right time, and she would be free. And she would burn this awful place to the ground.
Then Cinder raised a paddle, “Two thousand.” She didn't raise her voice, but it rang out in the quiet room.
“Ah! It would seem that our dear Madam has taken an interest! Do any dare bid against her?” The robot asked, and there were none. “Sold, for two thousand caps-”
“Yes!” Taylor barely heard it as the robot announced her sale, and through the darkness, Taylor saw him. Devan. He was kept out to the side, as he wasn't buying anything. He was smiling up at her like he just won the lottery and…
A fine. A fine for selling a girl into slavery for being a year younger than the cut off.
This world was dead. Justice was dead.
The ground erupted near him as the insect that Taylor kept under her control surged forward. It wasn't a mistake. It wasn't a lapse in control. It was nothing less than a deliberate action to have the blood red worm-like creature to leap from the ground straight for Devan. He barely had time to realize what was going on before the split jaw of the worm clamped down on his head with enough force to crush his skull.
He was dead. She killed him.
And beyond the sounds of panic that erupted as people fled the scene, Taylor heard the sound of applause.
Cinder was clapping for her.
Taylor met her gaze, the worm under her control and… this wouldn't end with Cinder’s death. Or the death of whoever she worked for. No more than the crime problems of Brockton Bay would vanish if she took out the leader of the city's gangs. The problem went beyond just a few people. It was systemic.
And she was going to destroy it from within.
…
I know Taylor is a controversial figure for most, so I figure I should make a small AN. I have some plans for Fallout and Taylor is uniquely suited to accomplish them. In particular, Warlord Taylor is. I can’t really go beyond that because of spoilers, but I can say this -- Taylor’s presence is going to be tied to Fallout.
As for the slavery bit -- it’ll be expanded upon in the next chapter, but this is Cinder fulfilling her role in this story. Cinder is the evil bitch that gets down in the muck and does the things you generally don’t want your protagonist seen doing.
Comments
MyAfroAteMyDog
I was kinda hoping there would be no slavery.
Mr Socks
Honestly Taylor fits with Fallout like peanut butter and jelly. I'm legitimately astonished it's a crossover I hadn't considered before when one I loved so much was with Skyrim.
