Cass had been at the Mojave Outpost for weeks. She was exhausted and she hadn't even left the Outpost. She was getting tired of sitting around drinking too, and that scared her. She had never tired of drinking before. Yet even the sight of a bottle now turned her stomach. She was bored, and she knew that was the underlying cause. But she was also restless. She had never stayed in one place for so long. It didn't help that she knew her caravan was a pile of ash somewhere out there in the desert. The thought made her miserable. It was eating her up inside, she could feel it. Then the courier came. The courier, with his new leather armor and that mechanical dog behind him. He was tall and his face looked as leathery as his armor. But he had a look about him, he was trustworthy and Cass could see that. He had showed up looking for work, Cass heard. It was a few days before Cass actually saw him, and that was when he came into the bar and sat beside her.
"You the one who runs Cassidy Caravans?" he asked.
Cass snorted.
"What's left of it, sure." She said.
He nodded, and Cass hated him for it. She felt the anger grow inside her, though it might have been the whiskey.
"What's it to you?" she asked.
"I was sent to buy you out," was the reply.
"Not for sale," she said with anger.
"Alice McLafferty sent me, from the Crimson Caravan Company," he continued.
"Well they must be pretty desperate. All that's left is my name and some dust, if even that." Cass was getting angrier.
"So why not sell out, you're stuck here otherwise," he said.
Cass could feel her cheeks burning.
"What if someone came to you and said they wanted to buy your name, what would you say?" she asked angrily.
The courier had opened his mouth to reply, but she wouldn't let him.
"You know what, I don't want to know. Not for sale."
He shrugged and ordered her a bottle of whiskey. He didn't say another word, and Cass hoped he was done.
"You're stuck here you know," he said after a minute, "It's the caravan that's holding you here, but it doesn't exist anymore."
She had to admit he was right, but her pride wouldn't let her.
"Couldn't leave by myself if I wanted to," she finally said, "The roads are too dangerous."
"And if I clear them?" he asked.
"You clear the road, and I'll sign my name to that paper." Cass said.
She watched him shrug and stand up. She hated him, but knew he was right. She couldn't stay there forever. She even felt part of her wish he would clear the roads so she could leave. She was a traveler at heart, and the outpost wasn't helping her. She watched him leave and absentmindedly played with the rose pendant at her neck.