This is my first fanfic so don't be too harsh when judging it

It's about a roaming trading named Cormack Sweeney who wanders the Wasteland, selling a large variety of wares. It (hopefully) reads better than it sounds, don't worry

On a side note; sorry for not posting much in the RP I started, internet's not wanting to cooperate, took me about 20+ minutes just to post this =/

Anyway, here it goes.
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Chapter 1-Best In The Wasteland

"Step right up! Best prices and quality in all of Capital Wasteland!" Cormack Sweeny hollered at the Canterbury Commons marketing festival. Yes, that's right, a marketing festival in the Capital Wasteland, probably one of the first events organized by citizens of the Capital Wasteland. People were coming from all over to buy and sell their wares in stalls set up in the blown out houses that weren't completely full of their own debris. There were also a load of mercenaries hired to guard the place; Reilly's Rangers were there, a whole mess of Regulators and even a couple Talon Company mercs. Rivet City offered some of the security guards to help protect the festival from Raiders and the likes. Like everyone else, Cormack was there to make a quick buck. He was standing at his stall, with a sign saying "Cormack's Gadgets and Gizmos", which he thought was quite fitting.

Cormack sold a variety of wares; from side arms to rifles, Stealth Boys to Grenades. He even sold a couple of Meds. Although, selling a mix of stuff is going to make it harder to compete with the people here who specialize in certain things. Cormack knows this though, that's why he sells his wares cheap and in bundles. Not to mention he gets them wherever possible, although, he's never really worked to get them. Usually scavenger Enclave and Brotherhood outposts that have been raided or whacking a hapless explorer over the head after before they can seize the spoils of war. His equipment may not have been in the best of condition, but it was still (barely) workable.
Out of the rest of the traders, Cormack really stood out. His short cut, ragged, brown hair was usually let wild; he had a bandana hanging around his neck and a light Brahmin skin jacket, with cloth pants and Brahmin skin shoes. One thing that really distinguished him from others was his red colored pupil on his left eye and a scar cutting across his nose.

"Stealth Kit going for one hundred Caps!" Cormack tried to shout over the other traders, "Includes one Silenced 10MM pistol, a suppressed sniper rifle and two Stealth Boys! Get yours today!" Cormack looked around out the broken window, from the house his stall was situated in. How he was going to compete with all the big names. All the big, well-established traders were here-Lucky Harith, Crazy Wolfgang, Doc Hoff and Crow- among some other below par traders like himself. He sighed, "All your Wasteland exploring needs at Cormack's Gadgets and Gizmos! Good bargains and top notch gear!"

So far he'd made about sixty caps. That could keep him going for the week, but that amount of money made makes the journey from the Republic of Dave seem quite pointless. Just then, someone actually approached his stall. Alright, another customer at last! Cormack thought to himself. Although, there was something about the man, he picked a very odd time to come. The sun was setting and most of the traders were closing up for the night so they can head off in the morning. Maybe he came out of desperation? No, Lucky Harith is still open and this guy looks like someone who's coming to buy that kind of stuff. As the man came closer, Cormack noticed that he had a trench knife in his right hand, and he was just there tossing it in the air and catching it on the handle and the blade. This guy must mean business.

The man reached the stall and Cormack got a good look at him. He had long, slicked back hair, a beard and a dirty business suit on.
"Greetings, fine sir, what caught you attention?" Cormack said, spreading his arms over the table which all his display equipment was shown.
The man spent a minute looking at the equipment, then looked up to Cormack and spoke, "How much are Stealth Boys?"
"Twenty-five Caps a pop." Cormack instantly replied.
"What about those suppressed sniper rifles I heard you talking about?" the man asked, a quizzical expression on his face.
"Eighty-five Caps."
"Hmm.." was all the man replied with. "Five hundred Caps for five Stealth Boys, one of those suppressed sniper rifles and for a few sets of clothes."
Cormack stood there with his mouth in an "o" for a minute.
The man looked at him, "Is that okay?" he said, a hint of confusion in his voice.
"Yeah! 'Course!" The trader said and immediately grabbed his two spare changes of clothes. Ah well, five hundred caps is worth it! He thought, giving the man the clothes. He reached under the desk to grab the gun and Stealth Boys when the man stopped him.
"Wait, why can't I have this one?" He said, motioning to the rifle on the stall.
Here comes the old lie. "Well, ehh, the display items are actually my own. I need them to get around the Wasteland and all that and to scare off Raiders."
"I see.." the man didn't seem to buy it but he went along with it.
Cormack handed him the gun and Stealth Boys and in exchange, the man gave him a sack of Caps and he walked off without saying anything more. Cormack started to pack for the road, content with the huge score he made.

I'm guessing I shouldn't continue this, considering there hasn't been a single comment?

Tis a good story. Write for your enjoyment, not the comments (though we all enjoy the comments usually)

Im interested to see what happens to Cormack.

Okay, here's chapter two for those that are interested.

Chapter 2- Ripped off

Richard walked in the door to his small shack built in the middle of the Capital Wasteland. Situated in the middle of nowhere, it was the perfect spot to conduct the business of a hitman and avoid interference from Regulators and the likes. 'Out of sight, out of mind.' He would always tell himself. But he would occasionally bring himself back into the sight and mind of the Wasteland when someone important was snuffed,

After returning from the Canterbury Commons marketing festival, he was ready for his next job. After having to abandon his weapons to make a getaway from the Brotherhood of Steel after a failed attempt on Elder Lyons' life, he was useless, and essentially out of business. But now he was capable of carrying on the job.
He had bought his new gear from a trader. A man who was selling a variety of equipment, a man with a scar across his nose and a bandanna hung around his neck. The man didn't seem trustworthy, but it was better to make himself known to a small-time trader rather than to a big-time one.

Richard was cleaning his gun when they knocked. Richard got out of his chair and answered the door. He was greeted by three men. There was one man that stood out, the man with the sack over his head. He had cut eye holes so he could see, using the sack to hide his identity. The man was flanked by two others, both wearing combat armour and armed; one with a baton and the other with an assault rifle. These men had cloth wrapped around their faces to hide their identity. "Come in." Richard said in a calm voice, inviting the trio of men into the house.
The man with the sack was the first and only to speak, he had a rough sounding voice and the stench of decay about him.
"I think you know why we're here." He growled.
"Of course, you want someone dead. Someone that is heavily guarded and can't be easily reached by normal mercenaries." Richard answered. Richard could see the sack creasing into what he presumed was being made by a grin of sorts.
"Your target is Allister Tenpenny. You have two days." The man said in a serious tone.
"And my reward?" Richard asked.
"Five thousand Caps."
"Deal." Richard grinned.

Richard had reached Tenpenny Towers by noon. A time that isn't an unusual time for unexpected guests. He arrived wearing his dirty business suit, with a large rucksack slung over his shoulder. Inside was his spare change of clothes, an old razor and scissors he carried with him and a Stealth Boy in his pocket. He was ready for the hit. He approached the gate, trusty trench knife hidden inside the blazer of his suit, out of sight, just in case.
"What's your business?" the guard asked through the intercom.
"I am here seeking a room." Richard replied smoothly, in as refined a voice as he could manage.
It took a while for the guard to reply. "Fine. You don't sound like a typical Waster." The gate slid open and Richard walked in, being greeted by a guard. "Well I was right; not a typical Waster. Head inside, Gustavo at the reception desk will get you set up with a room."
Richard nodded and headed on into the reception area.

As he walked in the door and towards the reception desk he tried to avoid eye contact with anyone as to not draw attention, but tried not to look shifty and suspicious at the same time. He reached the desk.
"Good to see you, I'm Chief Gustavo, head of security here at Tenpenny Towers. Since you got in here, I'm assuming you want a room, right?" The security guard said in a business-like fashion.
"That's right. How much?" Richard bluntly asked.
"Two thousand Caps." Gustavo said, eying Richard up to see whether he actually had the money or not.
Richard dumped a sack full of caps on the desk. "There you go." He said, smiling.
"Room's up the elevator, the on the right." Gustavo said, tossing the keys to Richard. Richard caught them and walked around the desk to the elevator. While in the elevator he thought his plan through. It was simple really. Tenpenny likes taking shots with his sniper rifle off the balcony of his room. Richard would use a Stealth Boy, sneak into the room and time a shot as perfect as he could with one of Tenpenny's, blowing the man's head off.

When Richard arrived on the top floor, he immediately went to his room, opening the door enough so that he could hide out of sight of the guard outside Tenpenny's suite while he activated the Stealth Boy and slipped his sniper rifle out of the sack. Once that was done he closed the door, the guard didn't once look over. Richard snuck up to the guard, resisting the urge to make some sort of comment right behind the man before slitting his throat with his trench knife. That type of behaviour was unprofessional. When he severed the security guards jugular, he took the keys from the mans pocket and tilted the head so the patrolling guards would think the man had just nodded off, but that would only work for a few, precious minutes. When he entered Tenpenny's suite, he closed the door and headed onto the balcony where he found Tenpenny just finishing off a round and beginning to load another. Richard cocked the gun when the new clip was loaded and after the first of Tenpenny's shots, he fired his own in sync. Suddenly, the gun jammed and the firing chamber got stuck. That [censored] trader sold me faulty equipment! Tenpenny heard the Richard struggling with the gun and turned to look around to see where the noise was coming from. As if things couldn't get worse, a bzzzzt! came from Richard's pocket. Great, the Stealth Boys are faulty too! The power on the Stealth Boy went well before it's time. While Tenpenny was still trying to digest what was happening, Richard slipped the knife out of his blazer and stuck it in Tenpenny's neck, attempting to kill him.
Outside the room, the guards inspecting the body heard the struggle between the assassin and Allister Tenpenny and rushed to his aid.

When Tenpenny was dead, Richard tugged the knife out of his neck to see a security guard burst through the door, gun trained on Richard. Richard grabbed Tenpenny's sniper rifle and swung it, knocking out the guard and hitting him into his comrade that was rapidly coming up behind him. Richard took this opportunity to move around the edge of the balcony, back to his own room. By the time the guards got back up he was already gone.
"Where'd he go?" One of the exclaimed.
"Dunno, I say we go tell Gustavo." And with that, they ran off.

While in his room, Richard changed clothes into a shirt, sweater vest and some slacks. He quickly shaved his beard and cut his hair short in an attempt to disguise himself. He left his rucksack in the room to make him less recognisable. When he left the room he saw security guards running around checking, kicking in doors and checking the rooms; all in a vain attempt to find the assailant. When Richard reached the bottom floor he patted his pocket, making sure his trench knife was still there. He could see the patrons of Tenpenny Towers being brought to the caf? to be looked after by a couple of guards while the rest searched the hotel. Well, this is going to make it harder to get out of here without being noticed.
When Richard thought that there was no one watching he quickly walked towards the door and managed to get outside. Then, there was another obstacle to overcome; two guards standing at the door making sure no one left the building. Richard was stopped by one of the guards. "Hey, you don't belong here. Get back inside."
Richard just looked at the man, then grabbed his gun, bringing it up into the owner's face and breaking his jaw. While the man fell to the ground he ducked out of the way of the second guard's shots, bringing the assault rifle with him and shot the second guard dead. While there were no other witnesses he ran full pelt out of Tenpenny Towers and back towards his home. That trader is going to pay for ripping me off.

Woah! This is really good and tense

Bravo! Very good.

Thanks for the comments

I'll have the third chapter up in a couple of days. Less time to write during the week so it might take a while.

Keep it up, I'm enjoying it

Nice,I like it.Keep going.

The latest chapter.

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Chapter 3-Retribution

Cormack unlocked the door to his home back in Megaton and was greeted by his Mister Handy; Bartholomew. Bartholomew was given to him in exchange for various tools and items by a fellow roaming trader who sold robots.
“Good to see you, sir.” Bartholomew said, in his refined, robotic voice.
“You too, mate.” Cormack replied, taking off his heavy jacket that kept him warm from the night’s chill and handing it to Bartholomew.
“How did the fair go?”
“I made a killing off some loaded idiot.” Cormack grinned.
“Very good, sir! Maybe I can get a fusion battery that is in better condition, then?” The Mister Handy asked.
Cormack laughed. “Good one.” His town went back to normal, “You know where to put it.” Cormack said, nodding at the jacket. Bartholomew hovered up the stairs to Cormack’s room to put up the jacket and most likely finish fixing the bed.

Cormack threw his keys onto the small table by his door. He heard the keys knock off something. He looked down at the table to see what the keys hit and he spied a holotape. Cormack picked it up, looking at it, then played the audio. A blup sounded and the audio began to play. “No one cheats me, especially not some low-life trader. Your retribution is soon.” Anothing blup sounded, indicating the tape ended. The holotape clattered to the floor as it fell from Cormack’s hand. Immediately he started looking left and right in a sheer state of panic and turned around to see the man he sold the equipment to, except in different clothes; the clothes Cormack gave him. The instance Cormack turned to face the man, he was grabbed by the neck and slammed into a wall, held at knife point.
“Thought you could cheat me, eh? Filthy, Wasteland pig! You almost cost me my life and payment while on a job.” The man spat.
“I-I was ju-just trying to m-make a l-l-living.” Cormack stammered. A stammer that was induced by the panic he was feeling and the adrenaline pumping throughout his body.
“That’s what they all say! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to collect a refund.”
When Cormack thought it was all over, that’s when he heard it. “Sir, what is going on down here?” Bartholomew said as he came down the stairs after preparing his owner’s bed. In what seemed like one motion, the intruder spun around, putting away his trench knife and drawing a scoped .44 Magnum from his sweater vest. While keeping his grip on Cormack’s neck, he shot a hole through Bartholomew. Son of a [censored]! He killed Bartholomew! Cormack started to think on his feet, while the man was putting away his gun -still facing Bartholomew-, Cormack grabbed his lamp and smacked the intruder in the side of the head as he turned to face Cormack again. The man hit the floor. Cormack seized the opportunity and ran.

The cold night air whipped at Cormack’s face and swept back his hair as he ran. After about a minute of running around Megaton, trying to lose the killer, he heard faint footsteps which grew louder and louder. Soon after, he heard a gunshot. The bullet almost got him in the side, but just about missed, hitting a nearby wall. Another shot fired, then another, and another. Each of these shots missed, but grew closer to their target with every attempt. The people that were asleep or in Moriarty’s Saloon started looking out their doors at what was happening. The people walking around the city ran in fear.
Cormack thought of a sensible idea; run to Sheriff Simms. Running through the streets avoiding numerous other gunshots Cormack reached Sheriff Simms house. Cormack wasted no time in knocking on the door to get to safety. He heard a foot crunch on the dried ground and heard another .44 Magnum round leave the firing chamber. This time the shot flew just over Cormack’s left shoulder and into the door. [censored]! At last Sheriff Simms opened the door, already dressed in his duster. “What the hell is going on here?!” Sheriff Simms exclaimed. Simms saw the man and ushered Cormack inside while the killer was reloading. Sheriff Simms was leaning against the door in an attempt to stop the madman from getting inside.
“Cormack, can you explain just exactly what is happening here?”
“Well, I was at the Canterbury Commons marketing festival and-“ he didn’t get time to finish his sentence. Sheriff Simms’ head erupted into a fountain of red as a shot managed to punch a whole through the door and the Sheriff’s head. The body dropped to the floor and the killer kicked open the door. He didn’t even speak this time, he just aimed the gun at Cormack’s head. There was a bang as someone fired a gun. But it wasn’t the man’s.
“I won’t look away this time.” He said. But as soon as his sentence was finished, his shoulder burst into a red haze. The man cried out in pain, grabbing his shoulder with the gun hand. Suddenly, another person charged into this man, tackling him onto the floor of Lucas Simms’ house. It was Billy Creel.
“I got him!” Billy shouted.
“Thanks.” Cormack murmured before he ran off. By the time Cormack reached the city gates it was dawn; not a good time to try and hide from a killer.

:clap: :clap: :clap: :clap: You my sir are an excelent writer, this is the ^best fan fic I have ever read!

Wow that was a great story!! Can't wait until the next one. You sir get a dancing stickman for your work

Sorry about it taking so long, things have been busy so I'm getting less chances to write it!
Enjoy!

Chapter 4-Snooping

Moriarty's Saloon; The perfect place to find people, make them talk and get information. Richard managed to get away just fine last night after the trader got away. After shooting Billy Creel he claimed that Billy attacked him first because he assumed that Richard was responsible for the missing girl he minds ?which he was- and that he was suspecting him because he looked shifty. The citizens of Megaton barely believed it, but it worked. At the moment they couldn't do much, no one could decide on anything with Simms gone and there have been constant disagreements between how Megaton should be run and whom should run it. Richard was pretty beat up after last night so he decided to wait a day and find out more about this trader so he can anticipate the man's next move and kill him; and Moriarty's Saloon was a fine place to start.

Richard walked in; slight limp, face covered in bruises and his clothes tatter and splattered with blood. Everyone eyed him up, not doing anything more than that, but letting him know that they know he was responsible for the pandemonium of last night. He spied one man, sitting in the corner beside the door. As soon as he noticed Richard looking at him he broke eye contact. Richard approached the man. His first target for interrogation.

Richard sat down across from the man. The man put down his beer and looked at Richard, expecting him to talk first.
Richard, taking the hint, said; "What do you know about the trader that lives here. The one that fled last night." Keeping the conversation as hushed as possible.
"Nothing. Nothing at all. Now will you excuse me?" The man almost spat back at Richard.
Richard whipped out his knife and slammed it into the table, causing heads to turn. "Tell me. Now" He growled.
"Like I said, nothing." And the man got up and walked away. Richard knew he was lying, he learned how to read people from a Special Ops manual from before the war he found.
Richard nodded, pretending the man had indicated to follow him. Richard took his time getting up and leaving the bar, trying not to get the man to notice.

Richard saw the man talking to someone, thankfully he was facing the opposite way, Richard slipped around the corner to the right of the Saloon, watching the man and waiting for him to come this way. Richard could tell that this Wastelander was going to come in his direction because of how his foot was positioned; ready to turn and walk the other way. When the man began walking, it only took a few seconds for him to reach the corner that Richard was hiding around. When the man passed by, Richard grabbed him around the mouth to silence him and dragged him behind the bar where the sun was eclipsed by the squat building. Richards first move was to slam the man into the wall, holding him there.
"Tell me about the trader. Now." Richard hissed.
"I've already to-" The man's excuse was interrupted as Richard held a knife to his neck.
He leaned close to the man and whispered, "I know that you know. Tell me, before I drag you out of here and slowly kill you." All the while, gently pressing the knife against the man's neck.
"A-Alright." The man stammered. "His name is Cormack Sweeny, he's a small time trader. Has trading routes that stop here, Tenpenny Towers, Girdershade and Canterbury Commons. He tends to stay away from any hot spots, that's why he doesn't go near Rivet City or Big Town; too many Muties."
Richard stared the man in the eye. Tenpenny Towers, eh? No doubt he'll be heading there, it's the closest safe spot he knows. What he doesn't know is security will be tight. Perfect.
"Thank you." Richard plunged the knife into the man and quickly stepped away, letting him bleed to death while avoiding getting any blood on his clothes. If Richard was going to go anywhere near Tenpenny Towers he'd need new clothes so he wouldn't be recognised. These ones were also filthy from last night's brawl. He'd heard of somewhere called Craterside Supply. That was his next stop. Richard began to walk off in the direction of Craterside Supply, the nameless Wasterlander's blood, slowly leaking out from behind Moriarty's Saloon as he left the corpse there to rot.

Richard entered the store to see a girl in a jumpsuit sweeping the floor.
"Oh, lookie here! A new face!" She beamed at Richard. "I'm Moira, owner of Craterside Supply. What can I do for you?"
Richard was taken aback by the sheer friendliness of the woman. He responded smoothly, "I need .44 Magnum Rounds. As much as you got. I also need a sniper rifle and ammo for that."
"Sure thing." She said.
Before she flitted off, Richard stopped her. "I'll also need some clothes, preferably Brahmin skin."
"Okie Dokie!" She said and walked off to collect the bits and bobs.

Moira came back less than five minutes later with the clothes and Richard's gun and necessary ammo piled on top. She dropped it on the counter and totted up the figures in her head.
"Say, what's all this stuff for?" She asked.
"I'm going hunting." Richard replied.
"Ohh, sounds interesting! Make sure to tell me all about your hunting trip when you get back!.. If you get back.." She trailed off at the end of the sentence. "Ehh, that'll be two hundred and seventy-eight Caps."
Richard dropped a fistful of Caps on the counter. "That should be more than enough." He said, before walking out.

This is pritty good

The latest installment of my fanfic!

Thanks for the positive comments, guys. Never did consider myself much of a writer

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Chapter 5-Trespassing

This was possibly the second worst mistake that Cormack had made in the space of a couple days, even though it is hard to compete with swindling an assassin who now holds a grudge against you. While in a frantic panic, attempting to escape his killer, he ran through the abandoned town of Sprinvalle. Most of the buildings there were boarded up or blown out and would offer no protection for him while he waited for the killer the go off looking for him, and the only place he could find that was open and seemed abandoned was the old school. When Cormack entered the building, he quickly realised he was in Raider territory, denoted by the graffiti and butchered and mangled bodies suspended from the ceiling and nailed to the walls. When he turned to go, he noticed a Raider by the door that he missed, who knocked him out with a baseball bat. Now, he was sitting in an old classroom. It was filthy and musty like everywhere in the Wasteland. Half the room was filled with rubble, and there were charred school desks lying around the place.

Cormack sat in the dark, letting his eyes adjust to the dim lighting while thinking of a way out of here. He didn't carry much with him but what he sold. He had left his large trading coat in back in Megaton: the coat which had most useful stuff. He checked his pockets; a frag grenade, a couple bobby pins, a fission battery and a box a .55 Magnum rounds. He hadn't tried the door but he knew already that it would be locked and he wasn't the best at picking locks with bobby pins and using the frag grenade, his only possible weapon, to blow open the door would be suicide as it would attrack all the other Raiders.

While Cormack was mulling over what he was possibly going to do in this pretty dim-looking situation, he heard a key grind through the grit in the keyhole of the door and the screech of the grime encrusted tumblers turn as the door to his makeshift holding cell was opened. A large Raider walked in, garbed in slashed tyres that were wrapped around his torso for some protection, ripped trousers, motorcycle boots and he had some motorcycle goggles up above his eyebrows. The man had a light brown beard and a shaved head. It was the man who had knocked him out, the one with the baseball bat.
The man looked around the room and spotted Cormack curled up near the large pile of rubble.
"Get up, punk, Boss wants to see ya." The man grunted.
Cormack responded by looking at the man, slightly confused. Why would their boss want to see me?
The burly Raider started smacking the bat in his palm. "Up. Now"
That motivated Cormack to put the questions aside and just listen to what this Raider had to say and go along with it.

As the Raider guided Morgan around they went passed lockers and classrooms. The Raiders that were walking about gave him odd looks. They were doing various things: some were tagging the walls with the Raider's emblem, some were in classrooms playing games of dice and other rooms they passed by were either emitting raucous laughter or groans and moans. Cormack was led down a staircase to the basemant of the school. As he passed he took note of what he assumed was the way out.
Eventually they came to a set of double doors. The Raider pushed them open to reveal what used to be the boiler room of the school. In this room there were "trophies" of dead bodies, Raiders were walking around the room and at the end of the room, near the boiler, sat a Raider with a rather long plaited beard and short cut hair. Flanking him was a female Raider, totting a combat shotgun.
"Look! A new trophy!" The woman exclaimed in a high pitched voice, checking her gun was loaded. The presumable Raider leader place a hand on her shoulder and got off his desk and walked over to Cormack, his hard eyes set on him.
When to two were toe-to-toe the man spoke.
"I'm Boss. I'm in charge of these Raiders are here. Mind telling me what the [censored] you're doing on our turf?" He growled.
"I.. Ehh, I was running from someone. An assassin."
"An assassin? After you?!" Boss burst out into laughter along with the rest of the room. Cormack could hear the deep chuckles of his jailor behind him. "Wait a second, you're one of those trader types aren't you? I can tell ya'll, with your little caps and your smug looks. You all look the same, not broken in by the Wasteland."
"Can we waste this punk?" The woman screeched in her shrill voice.
"QUIET!" Boss shouted, backhanding the woman.
He turned to Cormack again. "Since you're here, do me a favour." He spoke softly, taking out a 10MM pistol. At this point Cormack started to panic again. "Fix this. Something's wrong and it's blown more than one important head off." He said handing Cormack the gun.

Cormack looked at it and brought it over to one of the school desks for further examination, a plan of escape already formulating in his head. He sat down at one of the school desks, the Raiders crowing around him to see what he was doing. He began taking apart the gun and found out the problem. There was just a chunk of rotting flesh stuck in the firing chamber, probably from when Boss got up close and was reloading or something to that effect. "Grab me some scrap metal." Cormack ordered, partly to give the Raiders something to do and as a necessity for his plan. As he had hope, they all broke off to look for a piece of scrap metal. When the left he took the grenade out of his pocket, unscrewing the top and pouring the gun powder into the firing chamber and lodging the fission battery into it. Lovely. he thought. The Raiders came back with a bit of scrap metal. "It's fine, I found some." He heard the one who found it mutter something about "[censored] traders" and walked off.

Cormack got up and walked over to Boss, handing him the gun.
"Here you go." He said, quite calmly.
"Thanks, punk. Now let's test it out." Boss said, aiming the gun at Cormack, who started take some steps back, feigning shock. "Consider this your payment."
Boss pulled the trigger, and as Cormack expected, the gun powder, bullet and fission battery combined together to cause an explosion large enough to blow Boss' forearm off and knock the nearby Raider's to the ground. Taking advantage of the induced pandemonium, Cormack bolted back up the stairs. As he ran down the winding corridors it occurred to him that most of the Raiders seemed to have gone to sleep as there was no one in the corridors, but they were probably stirring.

While darting through the corridors Cormack took a wrong turn that led him to a caved-in passageway. After some backtracking he ran into a barely familiar face: the female Raider who totted the combat shotgun.
"I gotcha now, you sonuva[censored]!" She fired the shotgun, Cormack moved in time, but she still managed to catch his arm in the shot as he fell to the floor. Cormack was lying belly down on the grime covered floor when a foot kicked him over and was placed firmly on his chest as he was put face-to-face with the barrel of the woman's shotgun. "This is what happens to punks who mess with Boss' crew." She said. She pulled the trigger but nothing came out. "Dammit! I knew I should've stuck with the sawn-off!" Cormack knocked the woman's foot off his chest, causing her to stumble, giving him enough time to get up and knock her over. When she landed belly up on the floor Cormack just continued to run and not look back. If the explosion didn't shake the Raiders then that little skirmish must have.

After what seemed a torturous eternity in the dungeon of a school, Cormack made it out, the cold night our rapidly cooling the sweat that was running down his face and sticking to his clothes. He just about mustered the energy to keep running. He would head to Tenpenny Towers, he should be safe there.