Boone subconsciously wiped the sweat from his brow. The sun beating down on him from the center of the sky was almost a warning as much as it is a pain. He had to slow his pace slightly in order to conserve water for the rest of the trip. He cursed the fact that he left the lucky 38 later than he intended and now it would probably take him up to a week and a half to get to Goodsprings at this pace.
A crow flew overhead and he watched it with envy as it circled and glided with the breeze. If only he were a bird then he wouldn't have to walk all the time. His ears listened for anything and everything from the crunch of his combat boots to the crackle of a tumble weed rolling by. In a strange way he'd missed the wastelands. The NCR had kept him within the confines of Vegas for almost two months and even though the 24 hour access to booze and cheap prostitutes were fun he wanted a little bit of wide open space every now and then.
He breathed in the familiar musty air through his nose
As he picked his way through the potholes and broken down, pre-war vehicles he halted behind a stray pile of rubber tires when he finally got to a clearing. What at first he thought was a raider or even legion he was mildly surprised to find it was a very young looking girl. Even though she was a hundred feet away he could tell that the wasteland life showed on her pretty well. She wore a soiled merc troublemaker outfit that clung to her due to sweat and dark shades covered her eyes from where he could see. Her hair was dark brown, almost black, short and choppy as it slicked down on her neck.
Boone crouched ,using one hand to steady him, and watched the figure head toward a gap in the boulders to the right of the road up ahead. In her hands he saw a weapon he was surprised a young girl like her could get her hands on. With a sniper rifle in her hands she stood at the gap just staring at something inside the crevice.
He shifted his weight to his heels and crept around the other side of the rocks, but when he saw what the girl was looking at he wished he hadn't. Boone wasn't sure that the girl noticed but right there in a corner next to a tall cliff that hugged the mountains was a Deathclaw nest with three eggs nestled inside. Instinctively he pressed himself into the rock face and looked up at a trail that staggered down the mountains. His chest tightened when he saw two Deathclaws lumbering down toward their nest. He had to get that crazy girl out of there before she got shredded.
Now Boone wasn't one for risking his life for another's' stupidity, and he was probably stupid himself for doing so now, but the damn kid looked about only sixteen at the most. A sixteen year old girl with a Ranger issued sniper rifle.
The moment he crept out of sight he sprinted toward the figure standing in plain view of the monsters. She only had a moment yelp in surprise as his body collided with hers. He swore he heard a curse escape her lips before the both of them landed with a hard thud behind the boulders and out of sight.
The air filled with a putrid scent , and Boone covered the young girls mouth with his gloved hands. He was familiar with the musky scent of death these creatures gave off if they were within a hundred meters of you.
"Deathclaws", he whispered down at her, an obvious signal for her to be quiet, as he turned his head to listen.
Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his palm. She was biting him? He withdrew his hand with an astounded grunt of pain.
"Are you out your bloody mind?" with a surprisingly strong shove she pushed herself away from him.
"I just saved-"
"What is it common courtesy to tackle another to the ground nowadays, aye?" her bewildering accent wasn't the only thing confusing him at the moment. The young wanderer propped herself up into a crouch grumbling under her breath as she gathered some of the things that had fallen from her pockets.
He sat up bringing his rifle around his back, "there are Deathclaws over there..you didn't seem to-".
"Aye, of course there are that's the whole point mate", she picked up her sniper and growled at him after surveying the weapon, "now you stay your bloody ass 'ere. You're gonna pay for any damage to my weapon". Her eyebrow twitched upward in obvious anger.
Boone didn't even know why he was still even standing there. A girl with this bitchy of an attitude and no appreciation would have been ditched long ago, but he was curious to see how this would play out. She brushed past him still grumbling under her breath with that funny accent she harbored. He winced when she walked out into plain sight of the nest and their occupants.
He peeked around the corner, risking his presence, and was mildly surprised the Deathclaws haven't smelled or seen her yet. They were huddled around the nest sniffing the eggs making sure no intruders have bothered them.
The first recon sniper watched as the woman got down on one knee and took a shot. A loud pop echoed off the mountains as she hit one of them directly in the head. Of course, it didn't kill it. The shot only managed to piss the male off and while the other one recovered with shrilling whines the male hissed and came charging toward her. Boone started backing up, readying his rifle in his palms. This girl was suicide.
She just stood there like a statue facing the rain and he swore he saw a menacing smile crossing her lips through her wind tousled hair. When for certain he thought the creature was going to lunge and cut her in half a series of large explosions shook the ground under his military boots and threw up clods of red dirt into the sky. Boone didn't even notice the carefully hidden mines that lay dotted across the gap in front of her. She had cleverly laid a trap. The two wastelanders crouched as another series of explosions ripped up the earth when the other Deathclaw joined its friend at the attempt to kill her. Clods came raining down after moments of silence.
Boone slowly rose, still wary, and watched with his mouth hung open slightly as the young wanderer picked her way through what remained of the fearsome mutants whistling a tune. He walked over to her, brushing bunches of dirt that had fallen unto his uniform and avoiding stepping into meat chunks that now littered the small crevice of a mountain.
The wanderer grinned as she dusted off one of the eggs held in her palms, "those blokes would have tracked me across the Mojave if I hadn't blew them to bits". She started wrapping each large egg carefully in a cloth, "If only my own parents were so persistent mate", she chuckled depositing them in a large backpack.
"You risked your life against Deathclaws for eggs?" He was starting to get the impression that this girl had the brains of a twelve year old.
Brown eyes, squinting through sunlight stared up at him. He couldn't help but notice the array of freckles scattered across her dirty features. "Aye" she nodded smiling the way a child with a newfound toy would, "been setting up for this nest for at least a week now". She stood and swung the large bag over her shoulder carefully, "learnin' the parents' habits, when they leave to feed, to drink, how often they sleep things like that. The trick is to cover ya scent. They might have sight of a mole rat but those buggers can really sniff ya out".
Boone couldn't help but give the girl his signature, 'you've got to be kidding me' look. People across the wasteland do whatever they can to avoid Deathclaws, so camping them out wasn't something 'normal'. Even a raider hyped up on enough psycho to fill a Brahmin wasn't that crazy. But he had to admit what she laid out was clever though insane.
She registered his expression and shrugged, "for 1,200 caps a heist it ain't bad. Sure things might go wrong one day and I might get turned to ground meat for younglings but ay!" she slapped him on the arm, "what's life without a little risk mate?"
Boone frowned, "where did you get an NCR sniper rifle?"
The wanderer raised a questioning brow but smiled nonetheless, "if ya wondering if I stole it from an NCR lad you can drop ya worries. My old man was a general back in the day snagged it off of em". She picked up the dirtied weapon as she would a newborn, "not in the greatest condition but she does what I need. Gettin' thrown to the ground after its owner being tackled probably wasn't the best thing for it ya know".
Boone grunted an apology and turned around making his way out of the crevice before any relatives decided to show up. If she wanted to stay around and play hunt the Deathclaw be his guest.
He heard her small footsteps catch up with him, "didn't get ya name? Mines Becka, father said it was an Australian name. Not sure what it means though. I'm sure he told me I just don't remember".
"Boone", the sniper replied.
"Aye, no first names then? Unless that is ya first name. In that case your parents must have not liked you", her chuckling ceased when Boone glared at her through his shades.
"Right. Well where ya headed Boone?"
"Goodsprings".
"Ahh good old, down home Goodsprings, reminds me a lot of the down under", her chocolate eyes distanced out for a moment while he thought of what the heck a 'down under' was.
"And it just so happens I'm heading to 188 Trading Post which is on the way there. Unless you plan to cut through Sloan which I highly don't recommend. Lots of nasty buggers up that-a-way, kill ya soon as look at ya, and I'm not just talking about the Deathclaws mate".
The sniper couldn't help but roll his eyes under the protection of his shades. He knew where this was going. He stopped in his tracks almost causing the younger to bump into his back, "look I have a long way to go and I don't have time to chat. So what are you getting at kid?"
Her thin brows furrowed as she crossed her arms, "watch who ya callin' a kid 'ere. I'm probably only a few years younger than you my friend".
His skeptical eyes lingered up and down her form, "just how old are you?"
"Not sure about the exact date but I'll be twenty three in a couple months".
Boon was mildly shocked. He thought Becka no more than at least seventeen years of age hell she was only 5' 5'' at the least and her face, she had a small pixie face that reminded him of a thirteen year old girl with freckles and all. If it weren't for the early signs of aging due to the harsh wasteland effects on her appearance he would have guessed her younger.
He 'hmphed' and resumed walking.
"So I was thinking we could travel together". He heard the clinking of her heavy pack as she hurried to maintain his long strides.
"And why would we do that?"
She lingered up beside him pointing out the obvious, "we're heading the same way and those bushrangers are less likely to bother two people than one". Becka raised a slim finger, "and besides you at least owe me the civility of escorting me there. I mean you did knock the bloody breath out of me chest back there, and caused at least a hundred caps worth of damage to my sniper".
He could see the logic of her proposal despite his obvious distaste in traveling with chatty companions. The Courier was his lesson in that field. Also, now that the NCR controlled a lot of territories there were bound to a lot of hostiles roaming the wastes since they were pushed out of their land. Boone could handle himself but two snipers were better than one.
"Fine, only to 188".
"And not a step farther mate. My word!" she grinned in victory with a little more pep in her step as she skipped along his side.
Boone tried to ignore the extra footfalls as he stared out over the Mojave. He watched two mole rats digging a hole chattering to each other like quarreling lovers and he couldn't help but think of the old friend he was traveling to see. The miles they walked for the next two hours were mostly uneventful thankfully with the occasional prospector here and there, but nothing threatening. Becka wasn't as chatty as he previously thought either. She talked occasionally about things in the Mojave she had learned such as what type of plants to eat and how to eat it. She would often stray off the path, pick a prickly pear cactus fruit and come prancing back talking about how she was going to make some jelly toast. He hoped she knew there hadn't been bread in ages.
"We'll camp here", the sniper said suddenly. The sun was beginning to sink behind the mountains to the west, casting ghostly shadows across the Mojave Desert as it did.
"There's still plenty of light mate ya sure you wanna stop now?" she asked shifting the pack on her back.
He looked back at her sunlit face, "yes I'm sure".
The younger shrugged her exposed shoulders, "you're the boss".
He gestured to a cluster of tall boulders that formed a half moon shape, "There, should keep us hidden enough".
Boone started gathering firewood from stray tumble weeds snagged on the nearby rocks. Soon he and Becka had a small campfire going in time for the suns light to say goodbye to the cursed desert and sheath the area in a bluish black blanket full of howling coyotes.
Becka used some water to clean off her face and rinse the gathered dirt from her hair. It was kind of like a makeshift sponge bath, and then when she was settled she reclined back against the smooth heated boulder behind her just gazing into the stars.
"Ya know now matter how bad the world gets the stars are always the same", she took a deep breath through her nostrils, savoring the dusty smell as if it was the scent of a freshly rained pine forest.
She lifted her head watching the recon soldier as he shuffled through his pack. Becka wasn't sure if he had actually heard or had chosen not to. He cursed under his breath when he didn't find what he was looking for.
Becka pulled out a cactus fruit she gathered earlier. Once you got past the bitter aftertaste they weren't so bad.
"Here ya go mate", she tossed him the palm size fruit as she pulled out one for herself. "They're not so bad once you get used to 'em. Wouldn't say they're as tasty as a sanger especially ones like mum used to make". The Aussie pulled out her pocket knife and began cutting pieces off and plopping them in her mouth.
"Thanks", he mumbled doing the same. They sat across from each other with the fire in between eating in silence until Becka couldn't stand listening to the coyotes howling any longer.
"So Boone", she started while ruffling through her back pack. When she pulled out a small black flask the wanderer continued, "You're from the big smoke eh?"
He rose his brow in surprise, "how'd you know?"
" I know a show pony when I see one my friend. Pass 'em all the time. Little snookers think they're too good to stay in the wastes. Not saying you're one of 'em mate, no I can see in ya eyes you've been there and done that".
He stared quizzically at the younger not sure what half of what she said was.
"Ah, but you NCR blokes are used to it aren't ya?" she took a swig of what he believed to be was alcohol in that black container. "Get your leaves and such in Vegas if I'm correct".
Boone pulled out his own bottle of vodka and took a sip. He savored the burning sensation that swam down the back of his throat, "yea I was stationed in Vegas for a while".
"Never been there myself, but heard all about it. Those bloody securitrons wouldn't let me pass the blooming gates. Ah well not like I wanna be winging around that place anyway. I'd get in more trouble than the caps are worth".
"Where did you say you're from?"
"My father sailed here from Australia when I was just five years old. Then he joined the NCR. If you think the creatures are bad here mate you oughta see them back there. A nice place my old home if you knew how to take care of yourself", she brushed her damp hair to the side, "one day I might go back".
"Why would you leave in the first place?"
Becka shrugged indifferently, "mum was killed by a giant radgator, so father decided it was time to leave", she threw up her hands, "so here we are, or I am at least".
Boone didn't bother asking her about her dad. He didn't even know why he asked her questions about her home in the first place. Perhaps it was because she was different than anyone he's ever met. Despite his antisocial personality he was actually quite curious about her. Becka didn't seem fazed about talking of her dead mother or supposedly dead father either, and that made him wonder as well, but he pushed all his questions in the back of his mind. He didn't have time to problematic strays.
He continued to gulp down the vodka in hopes the burning would be enough to keep the dreams at bay, but at the same time knowing it wasn't going to work. Boone noticed the aussie looking at him strangely but she tried to cover it by shifting her body an scratching her short choppy hair.
"I'll take first watch".
The younger stifled a yawn, "perfectly fine by me". She took off her torn leather jacket and positioned it under her head. In moments she was fast asleep with her slight back to the fire, snoring loudly.