Chapter 1: Rescue.
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Joseph "Lonesome" Walker was traveling, sweating under the ceaseless noonday sun. His rucksack was heavy with trade goods as he crossed the arid wastelands that had once been the state of Illinois.
I was walkin' down the street when out the corner of my eye I saw a pretty little thing approaching me...
He lifted his wide brimmed hat, revealing his cropped brown hair as he wiped the sweat from his brow, his green eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of movement, a habit driven home by the scar on the left side of his face.
She said I never seen a man who looked so all alone, could you use a little company?...
In his hand was the trusty old hunting rifle his father had given him on his deathbed. It was .30 caliber, well polished, and the worn wood glinted in the blistering sun. Other than that, his only weapons were his trusty revolvers, hanging from the bandolier across his chest. The sound of gunfire nearby had him drop into a prone position, using his ears to pinpoint direction and distance.
If you pay the right price, your evening will be nice or you can go and send me on my way...
-Northwest. Less than a mile- he grunted to himself.
He started off in that direction, eventually cresting a hill. Looking down his sights he saw raiders ambushing a small but well armed convoy.
I said you're such a sweet young thing, why'd you do this to yourself, she looked at me, and this is what she said...
-I should help… might get some decent caps and some traders owing me certainly ain't a bad thing!-
Joseph raised his rifle and sent his first round into the back of the raider boss' skull. Not missing a beat, he chambered another round and sent three more raiders to hell before they noticed him. His long, brown trench coat helped him blend into the barren dirt.
Oh there ain't no rest for the wicked, money don't grow on trees, I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed, there ain't nothin' in the world for free...
-FUCKIN' SNIPA! HEADS DOWN YA FUCKS!- yelled one rather stupid raider, who failed to follow his own advice, to Joseph's immense satisfaction. His rifle empty, he drew his revolvers, two .357 caliber, 8 inch Colt Pythons, in remarkably good condition.
I know I can't slow down, I can't hold back though you know I wish I could… Oh no there ain't no rest for the wicked, until we close our eyes for good...
One raider was trying to turn an old machine gun on him, but the mechanism was jammed. Two .357 slugs silenced him. Another let off a burst of assault rifle rounds from the hip, but missed due to a mix of desperation and drugs. Another slug and the raider fell.
Not even 15 minutes later after walking down the street I saw the shadow of a man creep out of sight...
The remainder fled in terror from Joseph, the sun behind him making him a black silhouette with one bright red glow coming from a cigarette. Joseph walked up to the burning vehicles, and found a ragtag bunch of survivors in well tailored suits that were a bit torn from the fight, surrounding a very pretty girl. They each pointed some kind of weapon at him, from SMG's to nasty looking shotguns.
Then he swept up from behind he put a gun up to my head he made it clear he wasn't lookin' for a fight...
Joe holstered his pistols and raised his hands in the air.
-Steady now fellas. I'm here to help-
One of the survivors pumped his shotgun. -And we know that how?-
He said gimme all you got I want your money not your life but if you try to make a move I won't think twice...
-I'm the sniper that idiot was screaming about. I was up on that hill over yonder.-
-Yes, and how do we know-
-Shut up, Bill! I think he is telling the truth.- one man said, lowering his SMG.
Now that Joseph was close enough, he got a good look at the survivors. The one named survivor, Bill, had on a dark grey pinstripe suit, which was just as well, considering he was rather short. However, he was powerfully built, and carried a large sawnoff shotgun, which he was still pointing at Joseph.
I told him you can have my cash but first you know i've gotta ask what made you wanna live this kind of life?...
The second one to talk, with the SMG, was tall, but extremely skinny, almost wiry. He had a kind looking face, which was currently expressing profound relief.
He said there ain't no rest for the wicked, Money don't grow on trees. I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed, there ain't nothin' in this world for free…
-Hey there, thanks for driving off them raiders. We've been completely clear until now, and I guess we let our guard down. Ignore Bill, he's just a bit paranoid about strangers, always has been.- said the thin one.
-No problem, but I would like a small monetary compensation in return. As you gents probably know, ammo ain't cheap. As much as I enjoyed shooting those bastards, you have to understand my position.-
I know I can't slow down, I can't hold back though you know I wish I could, oh no there ain't no rest for the wicked, until we close our eyes for good…
(stop the music)
-Well now stranger, I'm sure we can come to an agreement, but first, let us get to the nearest settlement, hmm? - This came from what looked like the leader of the group, armed with a very nice rifle, and a black suit.
-Good to hear it. Now, who is the little lady you're protecting?-
The girl strode forth, her grey business suit slightly ruffled and dirty from having taken cover. Her blue eyes surveyed the situation with curiosity. Miraculously, her long blonde hair was still immaculate.
-I am Elise Desilva, a pleasure to meet you kind sir-
Joseph was taken back by how pretty she was, especially up close, and stuttered a bit.
-*ehem* P-Pleasures all mine Miss Desilva-
Joe was cursing himself for losing his cool when one of the guards tossed a singed briefcase at him. Joe opened, and found that it was stuffed full of caps.
-You guide us to Norfolk, which is where we're headed. This is part of the payment, and you get the rest at Norfolk. How does that sound?- said the skinny one.
-I'm no guide sir, a trader and a decent gunman is all. But I could definitely escort you for a while… for a separate price.-
After 20 minutes of arguing and haggling, the party agreed to follow Joe until he dropped off his trade goods in Medina, and then have him guide them along the courier's path to Norfolk. As they made camp, Joe pulled out a guitar, a beat up old acoustic, lovingly cared for, and began to sing.
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Though his voice was still young, it was deep, and rough with hard living. Under the starlight of the wasteland, lit only by the fire and the moon, Elise thought he cut a lonlely figure. She could smell him, and his smell was different than the men usually around her. Where they smelled of aftershave and perfume, he smelled of sweat, smoke and leather. Where her bodyguards were clean shaven and well kept, his hair was rough cut and his cheeks bristled with the beginnings of a beard. But it was his eyes that held her interest the most, for at the same time they could contain great kindness, and pools of venom.
-My word, I think I might've fallen for him!- she thought, blushing, but then shook off the notion. She was Elise Desilva, daughter of the toughest and most powerful warlord around! She couldn't just go around, falling in love with some wasteland trader! But, evidently, she had, even if she didn't know it yet.
CHAPTER 2: THE TRADER, THE BANDIT, AND THE LADY
As the small caravan pulled into Medina, Joseph pulled in a breath and hopped out of the vehicle, taking in a breath of fresh air as he did.
-It's good to be back.- he thought, fondly looking around at the familiar vista of Medina's bustling trading hub. The small town was built around the mouth of vault 72, and grew into an important destination for traders as it grew around an old national guard armoury. The G.E.C.K module had turned the wasteland there into a fertile oasis.
Several children waited just inside the walls of the town, large stonework things that looked like they could withstand quite the beating. The kids excitedly greeted Joe, who tossed some candy and toys at them from the smaller pockets on his rucksack.
-Hey there kids! Wow, how you have grown! I remember when some of you were as tall as my knee!-
The children all gathered around the young trader, laughing and chatting. Elise thought that the young man looked happier to see the kids than the kids were to see him, like a great weight was lifted from his shoulders. As the group traveled through the town, Joe was greeted by many of those who lived there. They finally found Joe's trading associate outside of the local brothel. The man was balding and overweight, dressed in a shirt that had been white once, a shopkeeper's apron, and dark brown army fatigues with boots.
-Hey Joe! Got my order?- asked the man in a jovial tone, his manner revealing that he already knew the answer… or that he'd already tried the "services" of the establishment behind him.
Joe smiled and answered around his unlit cigarette. -Got it right here Mr. Surefire-
One of the girl's bodyguards, the paranoid bastard with the shotgun, asked, -Surefire? Doesn't sound like a name I've heard of before...-
The big man chuckled. -My great granddaddy changed his name and opened up his own gun shop, Surefire Arms. I run the shop now and I have since my daddy died. We do well. Joe here has been a huge boon over recent years, getting us parts, and selling our product all over the wastelands.-
Joe smiled. -It's been a pleasure workin' with ya Mr. Surefire, and one I hope I'll continue to have. But, I gotta take a bit of a break as I've been... ah…. contracted by these nice folks here, to guide them into Norfolk.-
Mr. Surefire looked a bit puzzled. -Contracted? Well my boy. Consider that contract ended.-
Surefire pulled a 9mm pistol and aimed it at Elise. Several dozen "townsfolk" also pulled an assortment of weapons.
-Somebody real rich and real powerful wants that girl Lonesome, dead or alive. Come on, make the right choice here Joe! I don't wanna shoot ya! I'll even compensate you for your time, 'cause we're friends.-
Joe looked down for a second, the brim of his hat hiding his expression.
-You're right, Mr. Surefire… we WERE friends. But I made a contract, and I don't take my word lightly. I'm not the kind of man who can be bought.-
Surefire's smile left his face.
-damn shame joe. Kill'em.-
A gunshot sounded, and one of Elise's bodyguards fell. After that all hell broke loose.
Surefire pulled the trigger of his pistol, grazing Joe as he dodged. Joe's revolver answered, the .357 slug slamming into surefire's elbow and rendering his hand useless. elise was surrounded by her guard, as they made a valiant stand against the hired thugs. But their numbers were dwindling and the enemy had the high ground. Joe Grabbed the nearest mobster and yelled over the gunfire.
-Follow me! we are getting outta here!-