To the town of Agua Fria rode a stranger one fine day…
A bottle of whiskey, a cushioned chair, the sun starting to set, and my favorite song playing on the radio. What more could a man want? Another lazy end to another lazy summer day in the Mojave Wasteland. It was about eight or nine in the evening; I'm not sure. The old grandfather clock against the wall hadn't worked in months. And that suited me just fine, honestly.
The morning passed so quickly, it was time for them to meet…
The bottle half-empty, my thoughts began to drift. Almost immediately, I thought of the battle, five years ago. The Wasteland had never been the same, since then. I guess that's partly why I was here, in this shack in the middle of nowhere, downing a bottle of whiskey on a lazy Sunday evening, to get away from it all. Sure, it had changed for the better in most ways. Towns that had barely gotten by before were now bustling due to NCR settlers moving east. And hell, it's infinitely better than if the Legion had taken the dam. Still… I couldn't help but think, what would it have been like if I hadn't gotten involved? If I hadn't helped the NCR, and just stayed in quiet Goodsprings, living off the land with the rest of the townsfolk?
Oh he might have went on living, but he made one fatal slip
When he tried to match the ranger with the big iron on his hip.
Big iron on his hip…
I tossed the bottle aside, making sure every last drop was gone. Inevitably, my thoughts turned to Cass, and shortly after, to Boone. We'd gone through a lot in those few short months leading up to the battle. I hadn't heard from either of them in years, after we went our separate ways. I found myself wondering where they'd gone? After we defended Bitter Springs, Boone talked about signing on with the NCR military again, rejoining 1st Recon. I wonder if he's happy with his old squad mates, I thought. And Cass; where had she gone? After selling the rights to Cassidy Caravans, I got the impression she didn't really have anywhere to go. Hell, that's probably half the reason she'd decided to travel with Boone and me.
From there, my thoughts drifted to the night after the Battle, when we "celebrated" in my quarters at Camp McCarran. That was the last time I saw her; only an empty whiskey bottle lay by my bed as a parting gift. I've still got it somewhere in the shack…
As the whiskey began to take hold, and sleep started to creep up on me, I tilted my hat over my eyes, blocking out the sun. All this reminiscing was starting to get depressing, and It was starting to get late. Nodding off to sleep didn't seem like such… a bad… idea…
A loud, anxious knock at the door disturbed me, just as I was about to drift off. Grumbling, I got up from the chair, slightly tipsy from the alcohol, and shuffled to the door.
Well, this was unexpected…
"Cass…?" I stammered, sobered from the surprise of seeing my old flame at the door. "Cass, what the hell are you doing here?" It was then that I noticed she was clutching her side, and that her shirt was soaked with blood.
"Wes… they finally found me…"
And with that, she collapsed.
