Boredom was really the biggest problem he faced in his whole career (which subsequently was also his whole life). Even the rock-and-a-fucked-place situation did not give him as much trouble. Hell, they were what he was trained; why he was goddamned ghoul in the first place. But, the boredom. It was a killer. It made him tired, made him feel stupid and slow. And, Jack felt comfortable with silence. She would walk beside him with a dreamy smile and it would be that way for miles and hours. He had invented little games to occupy himself. Spot the Bug, Kill Count, and Inventory Training to name a few. His favorite was Inventory Training as it took the most time. He would try and remember every scrap of crap they had, not only on them but in Megaton and a the few stash spots, organize it, get rid of anything useless, sell off the profitable bit and then try to perfect his travel bag. All in his head, of course. It could eat up hours if he took his time. But, today nothing would work. He was simply bored.

He sighed and spoke,

"Jack, may we rest a bit?"

She snapped from her revere and broken open a huge, warm smile for him.

"Sure! My dogs are barkin' anyway." She looked out toward the shallow bowl of rock and dust that they decided to skirt around earlier that morning. "See that real big car layin' against that rock face? Why don't we just stop for the rest of the day?" She looked back up at him. Her smile never faded. Almost never did.

He began toward the bus. It was only a few yards below the shelf they were walking over. He hoped down, it was hardly a drop for him, and lifted his hand toward Jack, who squatted at the edge. Her eyes seemed surprised and she said,

"Thank you, Charon!"

She grabbed his hand and jumped. He heard her knees pop when she hit and for a moment was sure it broke. But, she looked up at him and mouthed a comical Ow! She gave a limp on the first step, the second. Her third barely gave and she was walking again, her whole body bouncing a little with step. He followed. They reached the pre-made shelter. She plopped her bag down in the shade and leaned against the rock and propped her hands b hind her head. She closed her eyes and began to hum quietly.

Charon gently wedged his pack under a shallow shelf. He turned toward the shallow bowl of land. He spotted a few ancient and black trees and snorted. He continued to scan the landscape and almost laughed. No more than a hundred yards south of them was a herd of four Brahmin. Brahmin chips would burn for hours. He grabbed his shotgun and began stalking slowly toward them. He went no more than five feet when,

"Hey, Charon, wait a sec, dude." He turned back to Jack. He watched her stand and brush her leathers off. She bent and he supposed she wanted to tag along. But, when she stood and walked out into the light it was with a rope, not the black assault rifle.

"What do you need?" he asked her.

"I've been thinking since we got back from Dave's Republic. What do you think of raising Brahmin? And maybe hiring Gob and Billy Creel to take care of 'em while we're out?"

Well, where the fuck did that come from, he thought.

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Well, people need water, sure, but they got to eat too. And, you know, Brahmin chips are a great fuel. We could use the little field down below Silvervale. You remember what I told you about castles?"

He did. But, he wanted to hear it again. He couldn't help it; he loved to hear her stories.

"Perhaps you could refresh me while we go figure out how to put four Brahmin on one rope."

She looked sidelong up at him and grew a toothy smirk.

"Watch." And she stopped. She pulled a baseball bat from her back and dropped it on the ground. She then began to string out the long rope. When she got about half way she grabbed it about dead center. While holding her right fist tight, she gripped the rope with her other hand and stretched both hands about three feet apart.

"Cut it right here at my left hand. Carefully." She smirked up through her dirty white blonde hair. He holstered his shotgun, grabbed his from its holster at his knee and swung his arm up like a striking snake. The rope snapped and fluttered to the ground, cut less than half an inch from her fist.

"Good one!" She laughed and for once, he smiled.

"Now, repeat." And they did on the other side of the middle.

"Now," she said as she dropped the remaining rope and grabbed one of the long ends. She then picked up the baseball bat. He suddenly noticed the five deep grooves carved evenly down the length of it. She pulled the very end of the rope out a good four feet and tied it tight around the back. When it was tight she stretched the rest of the rope to the next groove and wrapped it again. When she was finished, the two ends of the rope dangled from the bat.

"See? The center groove is for the lead rope and on the other side you wrapped the rope just this side here. And, bam, you have a four Brahmin leader thingy. And I have four . . . braces, bridles . . . something that goes around their face, like a mask and you hook the rope to a ring on it."

"Bridles." He nodded.

"Sweet! So I say we round us up some Brahmin, and I'll tell you about the castles while we hunt up some molerats. I think I can see some burrows up that side of the valley. See 'em?"

She cocked her head and pointed. He looked in the direction she indicated and covered his eyes with one gloved hand. He did see the burrows. They looked like the backs of mammoth brown worms, breaching the soil in a tangled mass. He stomach grumbled a bit and he looked back to his employer. She was looked back behind them, to the bus. He was shocked by her brilliant hair. It was cut like a Mohawk, only long to one side. It reminded him of the ancient horses and their long one, sided manes. She turned back to him and smiled.

"I'm gonna fix up this lead and tie it to the big car. Think you can herd those guys over toward me?"

"I can, but, I have to say I have certain reservations."

She looked at him and her eyes twinkled. She loved the way he talked. It was poetic, but so simple.

"What might that be?" she said, cocking one eyebrow.

"They could go wild."

"Good point. But, I have a solution. Remember that Dart Gun I built? I have a few Med-X shots in my pack. I think it would work out. Knock 'em on their ass a minute or two, slap the bridges on 'em, and when they wake up, they won't know shit from dirt." She winked at him.

"Bridles." He corrected her and fought down his own smile.

She narrowed an eye at him, smile never fading, and winked again. She then whorled around and walked toward the bus. He turned toward the Brahmin and finally let his own smile emerge. Bridling doped up Brahmin? Well, at least he wasn't bored anymore.

They had an unexpected surprise. One of the Brahmin was pregnant, very pregnant, and another had a tattered yellow bridle already strapped to him. They didn't even have to resort to the Dart Gun. The Brahmin had come easily, willingly, and never so much as snorted at Jack while she slid each bridle in place and tied them to the lead.

"They must have belonged to someone. They pretty well fed." Jack said.

She was strapping her gun (she called it the Perforator) to her back when the pregnant Brahmin gave a pained grunt. Jack looked at her and her brows broke into an almost sad expression. She gave the Brahmin a soft, friendly pat on her neck.

"We'll be there soon, ole girl, prolly tomorrow. Got a nice place for ya to call home."

Jack looked back at Charon.

"Shall we?" she gave a flourish and a bow.

He snorted and began to walk. She followed.

"So about theses castles . . ." she began. He let the words fill his head. The half an hour walk was over long before he was ready for it to be.

Hunting Molerats in their burrows was dangerous, but great fun. The Molerats dug a set of tunnels deep in the ground and then put a set of shallow tunnels not far from their burrow entrance. The "soldier" molerats sat in a deeper, more stable central chamber and waited. Anything that walked across those burrows fell in, breaking a few bones, and became dinner. As they approached the trap tunnels, they began to fling rocks at one of outside tunnel. Most of the rocks landed in about the same spot. After about five minutes and several impressive chunks Charon managed to roll on top of the tunnel, it collapsed and they fell immediately on the edge of the hole. They waited. Moments later, three molerats popped out of the collapsed dirt into the hole and began sniffing about. Charon and Jack aimed and the three molerats were dead in seconds. The moment they fell still, Charon dropped his shotgun and jumped into the hole. He grabbed one of the dead molerats and lugged it toward the edge. Jack grabbed its back legs and pulled it to the surface. He grabbed another.

"Hurry, Charon, more of those bastards is coming!" Jack said, her head appearing over the edge again.

"I hear them."

This was the fun part. Another body slid onto the Wasteland scrub grass. Charon could hear them too. The maddening scratching of at least five more was coming closer to the surface of the dirt. He picked up the last dead soldier and simply threw it up and over the edge. He grabbed the edge of the grass and pulled up and over. As his feet left the bottom of the head, he heard the scuffling shutter of a mole rat breaking into open air. Then, his knees slipped. Jack gave a cry and lunged for him, grabbing his chest armor. Her stomach and chest slammed into the ground and she gave a deep Whoof. She pulled, weakly at first. Then she finally got her knees under her and she gave him a good hard pull. He pushed with his arms. The combined effort sent him flying up and landing on top of Jack.

He was dazed until he looked at his squished employer below him. He rolled off quickly, embarrassed and jumped to his knees beside her.

"I hope I did not hurt you, Mistress."

He closed eyes popped open. Her smile returned, if a little pained.

"All good, dude. All good. Oh-!" she tried to sit up and her face turned red. "Damn, I take that back, you big bastard, I think you crushed my internal organs." She laughed.

He dropped his head and allowed a chuckle to shake his shoulders.

"Quit laughin', dude! I could be bleeding internally!" She said through a huge grin and chucked a clod of dirt at his head. He dodged it and stood. Now he was smiling hugely, showing his coffee brown teeth. He offered her hand.

"Shall we go, Jack, before the entire colony comes for us?"

She narrowed her eyes and grabbed his hand.

"Yeah, but you can drag those heavy bastards while I recover." She started off.

They made it back to their shelter. Jack had not made good on her threat, carrying the biggest of the molerats on her back.