AN: Please give thoughts and judgment this is my first story. I'm only human so forgive any severe grammar issues just help me get on the right track.
-thank you, RWT
Fallout: The Line We Walk
Chapter 1
Six sat squat behind the bolder listening to the strangers complaining about the heat that was ever present in the Mojave Wasteland.
"Jeezus Moe why the hell have we come all the way out here to this sun baked shit-hole again?"
The man now known as Moe spun on his heel, and eyed the man with a gaze of pure hatred. "Told you already ya dumb sonofbitch! Were out here scouting the area for the boss, and the the rest of the crew."
The man looked a bit embarrassed and whined "I'm sorry Moe. It's this heat it's burning me alive!" He said clutching his head as if it was about to pop off his shoulders.
Moe shambled over to his heat exhausted friend, and tried to pull him up.
Six took the opportunity to get on his feet. His knees popping at the sudden exertion 'you're getting too old for this shit you dumbass' he thought to himself, but it was too late he was already moving. He pulled his .45, and quickly began moving towards the road. The heat stroked one spotted him, and began to point, but a bullet entering his brain pan interrupt his thought process. Which left Moe holding a now slightly headless corpse in his arm's. He quickly turned to face the attacker only to meet a well worn boot heel in the nose, and collapsing to the pavement.
Moe awoke gasping for air his head (and the better part of his torso) were drenched in water. He tried to move only to find his hands and feet bound. Suddenly the sun gave away too cool shade. He looked up, and found a tall figure standing over him. "Alright Moe here's the deal." He said plopping himself on the ground in front of the water soaked man. Six looked at him hard for a few minutes before speaking. "You're a fighting man, based on those scars on your Hands and arms." "So?" Moe interrupted. "In case you haven't noticed grandpa there's a whole waste land out there. Almost everybody's got scars; yourself included so why don't we cut the detective bullshit and get down to brass tacks alright. You want a cut of the action don't you?"
"Come again?" Six asked leaning closer to Moe. "I get it gramps, I get it were moving in on your territory and you made a move. A wrong move, but none the less you moved. The boss will understand, he's like that; now all you have to do is let me go and we'll talk this out- get you a fair slice of the pie." After he finished Moe leaned back and watched the range of emotions wash over the geezers face.
Six's gears turned as he mulled over the chunk of info he had just got. "Here's the deal slick." Six said before leaning forward and socking Moe in the mouth. "That was for the interruption. Now before I was rudely interrupted I was saying you're a fighting man. You've clearly walked a lot of miles from somewhere, and your boss is looking to move into my territory. However, before you go on about share's and territory invasion; allow me to introduce myself I'm Courier Six, and as leader of the Mojave Highway patrol it is my job to make sure scum like you don't make it to wherever the hell you're going." Six said standing up; "Wait a minute wait!" Moe screamed shaking against his binds. "The boss has a army that will leave boot prints all over your ass if you try to resist! But, you let me go and I'll put a good word in for you maybe even spare your miserable ass." Moe yelled. Six stood and pretended to give it thought "Hm, sorry I'm going for option A." He said pulling his pistol. "Killing all of you." Then he pulled the trigger.
AN: after typing this I realize it's probably not up to par with what all of you are use too. In length and quality both, I'm still working out the kinks.
