The sky was a deep, navy blue color and hundreds of stars danced graciously above me. It was simply amazing to realize I was looking at something that was thousands and thousands away, yet here I am, gazing right up at them. The moon shined a beautiful low light across the desert floor miles infront of me. I looked up and I was reminded how my wife was so beautiful that even in a horrible place like the Wasteland, she could take your breath away. I reached into my pocket for the note Carla was supposed to have if anything happened to me. Quite ironic, how I survived and she didn't. I do wish it was Carla who had survived, and me who did not.

Carla,

If you re reading this, then you know. Sorry. Wanted to make it back home to you.

The pension won't be much but it should help you and the baby get by. Want you to remarry when you meet the right person. Don t want you to have to be on your own.

Not sure the right way to say how I feel about you. Think you know already, though. Always seemed like you knew what I meant, maybe better than I did. Wish I was there with you now.

There are things I couldn't tell you. Tried. Whatever you learn over time about my service in the NCR, hope you can forgive me.

Lastly, know you were against it, but if it s a girl, want her to be named after her mother. Know it s playing dirty to win the argument this way, but too bad. It s worth it.

Craig

For a minute I started thinking about how I would do anything to look at my Carla one more time, even if I couldn't touch her. Even if I couldn't hold her hand. I would do anything to look into those blue-grey eyes of hers, her perfect profile, her pretty round lips, everything. And I wished I could have seen my child even more. Bah. I can't move on. It hurts to keep thinking of her, but in a way it keeps me going.

-The next morning-

It was around 6 AM when I jumped out of sleep with an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. I seemed to recall having a long dream. I couldn't exactly remember what it was about, but judging by the sweat dripping off my forehead and the feeling in my gut, it was a nightmare.
Carla's note was not there, and I couldn't see it on me anywhere, but a neatly folded up note was sitting on my beret beside me. I nervously reached for it, straightened it out and my eyes darted across the note as fast as they could.

My name is Vulpes Inculta and I am Lord Caesar's lead Frumentarius. Me and my men have a small encampment just North of this pitiful little tent and I would like you to come to me. During my 'visit', I witnessed you repeatedly whimpering "Carla" like an injured little pup. I take it someone you loved was taken from you? I seem to remember participating in a slave auction with a young woman named Carla. Little bitch kept whining about going back to someone named Boone, right before her head exploded. Anyway, enough of that, I will get to the point.I am aware that It is indeed cruel to blackmail a person, however this is precisely the reason why. You see, when a man is abused until the breaking point, he is likely to say or do just about anything to be left alone. I will give you a taste of hell until you willingly arrive at my camp to be taken as a slave. Should you resist, I will personally track you down and drag you by your neck to the Fort and you will obey Caesar's every word. I trust you will make the right choice, Boone, is it?

Goddammit. Bastards. They robbed me. My rifle was gone and Carla's note was nowhere to be found. I tore up the note the bitch had left me and I watched in silence as the pieces floated almost graciously to the desert ground. I could not feel sadness, or tears, only hate. It was then when I realized, I have nothing left to lose.

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