[color=39b54a][b]Gorge the mutant [/b][/color] - Salem center of town -> Edge of town near the sea - Morning

 Looking up at the sky Gorge slowly remembered what just happened, a blur of black and brown, the hope that the laser fire would put it down before it got to me, the wash of relief after the Deathclaw left to return to its quarry leaving the mutant stunned on the ground. Slowly the mutant sat up then got up on its feet, he checked his armor and sighed, he was in one piece but would have to repair his armor when he got the next opportunity.

  But for now the town was silent and seemed secure. Picking up his weapon the armored mutant checked it over, satisfied that it was still working moved to the large Deathclaw. There were others near all being relatively cautious of the beast.

  Gorge still had something to do, setting his weapon down the large mutant grabbed one of the large Deathclaws horns with one hand and its jaw with the other. With a grunt and a quick jerking motion the Deathclaws neck snapped. Its body twitched once and then never again.

  He was sure it was already dead but every precaution should be taken for walking tanks. Looking around to the others as he grabbed the Deathclaws tail and began pulling it out of the door way,

  “You should get someone to remove the claws, horns, teeth, hide, and some bones.” He paused for a moment as he pulled the beast across the ground.

  “All of which can get you more than a few caps to the right person.” Again pausing walking back to pick up his gun now that the door way was clear.

  “The meats not that bad either, as long as it hasn’t eaten anything irradiated in a while.” The mutant spoke as if it were a normal person aside from the rough voice, glancing about the others present.

  He did glance at the man with the plasma pistol and sighed, “You are in no condition to fight so drop the pistol before you embarrass yourself.” The mutant rubbed the side of his helmet for a moment before sighing, “My name is Gorge and I’m seeing to my friend.”

  His attention yet again turned to the dinner, the screams immediately putting him back into soldier mode. Making sure his gun was reloaded he trudged over to the dinner the mutant stopped in front of the door way and began to warm up the weapon ready to fire on anything that lay beyond the door.

  Stepping through the thresh hold of the dinner the mutant came into view of a few others surrounding an unconscious man with a dead Deathclaw nearby. He lowered his weapon and was able to pick up the last bit of what was said. Gorge strapped his gun back over his shoulder and went back outside to find a board.

  It didn’t take him long to find a broken door that would suffice, he was moving with silent purpose when he reentered the dinner. Shoving the man next to the unconscious one out of the way, setting the broken door down next the man he gently pulled him onto the door. The mutant was being unusually careful making sure this man wasn’t jarred too much.

  Bending over, the mutant slowly lifted the man, and the door with relative ease and began walking toward the Clinic. It was a little awkward getting out of the door of the dinner, but he managed to simply pull the door with the man behind him through before picking him up again. Gorge wouldn’t really care if anyone approached him or tried to stop him, he would simply sigh and quietly keep moving.

  Walking through the door of the clinic Gorge stopped for a moment before moving the man to a cot and carefully setting the makeshift back board on the cot. The armored mutant stood up straight for a moment before he looked to his friend on a nearby cot.

  “Harold” the mutant whispered, moving to his side and kneeling down, “How bad?”

  The ghoul coughed for a moment, wiping the blood from his hand, “Fatal”

  Gorge sighed and again looked around, “Come now old friend, let’s leave the good doctor to his work”

  The mutant picked up the ghoul with care before moving back and walked out the door. For a moment the mutant looked around before walking off toward the sea. After a little while he found a quiet spot overlooking the ocean and set his friend down. The mutant looked around again for a moment, finally comfortable that nothing around would bother them he sat down. Listening to the waves roll over the shore the mutant produced two bottles of whiskey from the small pouch on his side, he had more but the others were broken. For now, he would spend this time drinking and talking about good times in his friend’s final moments.