"Ooh, I'll take that as a compliment, doll."
Calamity winked, tossing her helmet back on.
"...right. Well, there was a third option. Luck. Get in a shelter out there, survive in the radiation as best you can. Most Raiders originally began as that. Martin here included."
[Not all of us were raiders. Some were tribals, refugees. In fact, we all were tribals in a sense. With few exceptions, most tribes were the children of war. Off the top of my head, I can name some big-names in my great-great-grandma's time. The Responders were the good guys, patching up the wounded. But they weren't the only people there. Craterheads, Blood Eagles, Rust Eagles, Rust Kingdom, and probably a thousand no-name Raider scum prowled the land. Between them all, the Cult of the Mothman and The Enlightened to make things that much stranger. Said out west the Pittsburgh Union fought with Fanatics, and in Atlantic City the Lombardi crime family fought the trees themselves... and worst part? We don't know if they're alive still or not.]
"Mart, for Atom's sake, the place is a nuclear hell! Nobody could survive there!"
[I've heard stories, man. Knights from Toledo, telling of lights in the smog, of fires burning in the mountains. You know of the Reclaimers, sir. You know they were one of us, too.]
"No Reclaimer can survive a miniature Nuclear War with themselves! As much as the Knights wish it so, Burning Springs is NOT up for capture! I will not risk good soldiers chasing after ashes in the wind!"
[Hanging back. Mart, take point.]
Calamity stepped to the side, Martin rushing to take her place. She stepped back in line behind Désiré as Mart and Kaleb continued bickering.
[Don't mind those two, Mart's got a past in Appalachia and wants to get back home... between you and me, I think he's right, but they're still definitely a threat if we just waltz in.]
