From then on I knew she was crazy.
For at least an hour there were distant gunshots, and over time the shots became less frequent and far away. I sat there, under a table tied up in a tent where Caesar lay dead with a single bullet where his eye should be. It was humiliating just thinking about it; wondering if I'm going to be spared by the person I once left for dead, or gunned down on the spot tied up, defenseless and weak. I wouldn't blame her, if she did want to kill me, though. But doubts of my death appeared as she didn't even bat an eye towards me as she slaughter Caesar and his men and left me where I was. She was ruthless, killing mercilessly and without remorse. She released her anger as her companions defended her. She planned this, it's not hard to tell. Her strategic movements would be hard to execute improvised, but she didn't avoid all casualties. Her blood was pumping stimpacks and Med-x, with hints of buffout and psycho. I'm convinced she wouldn't feel pain for the next week.
The sun was starting to rest, letting out an array of colors little above the horizon. Mixes of deep red and orange that seemed to match with the hot Mojave sands. Now I was starting to wonder if she forgot about me completely. The sky gave up her colors and the stars began to gleam dimly far off in the cosmos. The night felt familiar, too familiar to my liking. Hours passed, waiting for something. For anything. The stench of the bodies was starting to get to me, the rotting corpses had it better than me. At least they died fighting. Me? I'm tied up waiting for something that might not even come. It felt like days passed but to the reality of it, it was only a few hours. I struggled to get out of my bindings with the last of the strength I had left. The pang of hunger snuck up on me and my dry lips told me I was dying a slow death. Now I regret leaving her back at the Tops. I don't even remember her name. I don't know how she survived, my foolproof plan failed and the consequences are coming back to bite me in the ass. Maybe this is my punishment, trapped in a tent dying slowly and being powerless to do simple things like getting up. Then I heard something. It was faint, hard to tell what it actually was. I stopped struggling to try and hear for it again. It was loud, the earth beneath me quaked for a good several minutes. A last few rounds were shot before I heard footsteps near the tent. I sighed in relief, just the thought of being free gave me solace. It was her. Along with a ghoul and a lady with a powerfist. She was bloody with a few bandages around her body, and her fingers trembled; probably from pain or the drugs. Maybe both. She smiled at the sight of Caesar's corpse. Yep, definitely crazy. She drew her rifle and fired at Caesar, to which the ghoul commented, "I'm pretty sure he's dead, boss."
She momentarily looked at her companion before bashing Caesar's head in with her boot. "That's seriously overkill, Roslyn," the other woman added in.
"Okay, okay. I'm fine." She walked to me, and forcibly reached for my binding to slice it with a serrated blade. My wrists bled and my skin was irritated. "You should get that looked at," she stated calmly. I furrowed my brows looking at my hands. She felt my uncertainty, my confusion towards her mild behavior.
"What you have against baldy over there?"
"Fucker had it coming," her chill nature frightened me. She went to Caesar's body again to retrieve a pistol from him. My pistol, Maria. She tossed it to me whist grabbing some other weapons from the dead.
"Aren't you concerned about me turning against you? Seems like you trust me."
"People deserve second chances, Ben." Her using my name made me feel uncomfortable. "You never gave me one. But I'm not you, am I?" I winced at her sincerity. "Be glad I didn't shoot you down without warning and bury you in a shallow grave to be left for dead." She shrugged with an emotionless grin. I knew she was mocking me, but she paid no attention to me while she looted. Her companions waited patiently for her, I guessed they're probably used to her taking this long. They held their own conversation, hushed but not intending to be secretive. I checked the clip, and used the ripped sleeves of my jacket to cover my wrists. My ankles also were irritated but I told myself to walk it off.
I looked at her, she was observing the Vexillarius helmet one soldier was wearing. She put it on to show her friends, to which they smiled and chuckled. She treated it like it was meaningless and ridiculous. I scoffed, some men would kill her on spot for ridiculing their tradition. She sat in Caesar's throne, pained expressions on her face and grasping her wounds. She was assisted with Med-x and purified water. "What's the catch?" I caught her off guard, she got up, hands still trembling, "what's your price for freeing me?"
"I got all I need from you. The chip, and your Yes Man. You're not an asset you're a liability." The laid-back attitude dissolved in her seriousness. I gave her a look of disbelief, believing she was bluffing. "If I ever see your mug again I won't hesitate to cut it off and put it on a spike." She tightened the gauze on her arms and legs, loading her pack with leftover drugs and bandages. "Caesar here didn't stand a chance, and your bullet sure didn't stop me. This is your second chance. Don't fuck it up." All the candor she once had was now gone. I checked the clip in Maria again before leaving the tent, I had only two rounds. I ran, out of fear of any remaining legionnaries or being gunned down by her. I don't know which is worse.
I still can't remember her name. It was said but I wasn't paying attention. All I knew is that she was the Courier, and from then on I knew she was crazy.