The two men sat in the rubble across the bridge, their faces concealed by the darkness that was quickly setting in over the dry, barren wasteland. One of them, the larger of the two, obviously older, maybe 20 or 21, and more sure of himself, began addressing the other. His speech came like a machine gun, rapid fire, sharp sentences composed up of just a few syllables each moment. He set down the binoculars he had been looking through and turned towards his companion, who was shorter, but just as well-built and good-looking as the first man.
"Look Abe. You remember what Doc Mitchell told us. Pa needs that medicine, or he's gonna die. You wanna get Pa that medicine right? And to do that, whadda we need? We need the money. So either we do this and get the caps, or Pa dies. The choice is yours…" he trailed off.
Abe, the shorter man, sat emotionless, his eyes pointed down at the ground, head hanging down by his knees. After what he seemed like a lifetime he looked up with a sigh, a deep expression of disappointment on his stubbled face and began to speak in the same muted undertone his companion had used. "Fine Warren, you win. But we do this quick, in and out, ya know? I want to get the caps and then leave. No one can know who we are. And this is only for Pa, never again."
Warren grinned a roguish smile and clasped Abe's hand. "It's good to know you've got my back, brother." Warren looked back up through his binoculars, observing the sleepy town in the distance before continuing. "Go grab that bag I left by the door, would ya?"
Abe stood and grabbed the bag by the door, immediately feeling the weight held within. Opening the package he peered inside, and the results set his stomach into a tight knot. "What are these, Warren?" he questioned, raising one of the handguns out of the bag. Warren didn't even look up at Abe when he responded.
"It's a gun, nine millimeter. There's two of 'em," he said, obviously ignoring the deeper question of what they were doing in the bag.
Abe shook his head and scowled. "I know that they're guns Warren. I meant what are they doing in the bag?"
Warren stared at him for a long time. "You're so naïve Abe. If something goes wrong, you think they're just gonna let us waltz out of there? You think they'll just send us on our way with their money? No, I doubt it. We need those for protection. I don't wanna use 'em, but if worst comes to worst and the shit hits the fan…" he trailed off before resuming, "It's just insurance Abe. Nothing more. Shit's gonna go just like we planned it."
Abe was having an inner conflict, a battle with himself, before he remembered what was at stake, Pa's life. Instead of replying he just gave his brother a curt nod before taking one of the pistols and sticking it into his waistband. Warren finally set the binoculars back down and took the other gun for himself. Warren muttered words quietly to himself before nodding. "Just follow my lead little brother. Everything's gonna go on plan." With that he headed down the stairs of the ruined building, Abe following reluctantly.