Chapter 1 – Boss

Raul heard a small scurry outside his cell; it came from the other room, beyond the locked door. He ignored it getting back to his fixing on an old coffee cup. Tabitha had gotten angry, as if she wasn't all the time, and through her morning brew at a nearby "Dumb-Dumb". She had given Raul the broken cup and a bottle of glue, treating that if he didn't fix it he would be that evening's dinner. He noted that no matter how many times shed insinuated his death . . . she really never acted on it. Raul hopped she didn't have a ghoul fetish.

More clattering came from the workshop. He turned his head listening to whatever noise he could pick up. Light footsteps, Heavy breathing, and a metal creaking. It could have been another night-kin guard sneaking in, trying to get a peek of Raul to satisfy their curiosity. Or perhaps . . . someone had actually come to save the old ghoul from the clutches of the Night-kin Overlord? Whatever the clamber was he waited in anticipation.

It was quite for a moment as the breathing slowed, and the steps edged their way to his door. The skin on the back of his neck, or what skin was left, creped as the handle on his room jiggled. "It's locked amigo." he said. The handle fell still "There's a password." Raul could see the mystery's shadow in the crack of the tin door. It shuffled away and walked around the room. He thought to himself that the personmust have been looking for a code panel.Just as the old ghoul was going to give advice for his freedom the stranger spoke . . .

"Where can I get in?" The voice was soft and quite. "Over on this computer here?" High pitched and southern-bell-sweet, a woman more than likely. His thoughts of his savior's identity were interrupted by a loud squeak "Hey! You in there?"

"Uh-yeah Boss, I'm here." He got up from the flimsy chair where he'd been sitting and walked over to the door. "The screen next to the door way, Boss. You can get in there." He pressed the remnants of his left ear to the door. Raul could hear her move over to the computer and sit down. Clicking soon filled the atmosphere. The password is 123456789, but Raul Found no need to inform her. If she could read then she was going to find it anyway.

"And . . . I . . . got it!" A final click of triumph echoed the storage building. He stepped away as a tinkering noise moved the handle. A few seconds later the door slid open. What Raul saw was a shock to him, even in his old age.

Short in height, thin in mass, pale skin, swamped in several oversized weapons and a beat-up duffle bag hung on her back. Her appearance stunned him, questioning that even if the person was indeed female. Raul couldn't tell for her face and clothes were covered in an abnormal amount of dirt and her hair was a tangled mass of black knots and tree twigs. The only facile mark that Raul could see was a pair of over chapped lips. He was brought out of his thoughts when her voice pierced the air.

"Howdy." She pressed passed him into the middle of the room and laid down her enormous bag, causing a dust cloud to rise from the ground. They both coughed. "Nice digs." She scoffed "You get paid by the hour here?" She patted her clothes clean of most of the lose debris.

Raul was taken aback in surprise by her sarcasm, and so, with no comeback available, he threw up his crotchety, old man routine to counter-act her youth. "It took you long enough kid." Her body language shifted into an offended sway with one hip put out. "So can I go now?"

Her jaw dropped and the edge of her mouth twitched. That was a good sign that must have hit her ego pretty hard. He laughed in his throat at his clever wit.

"Wow." She spoke "Yer' are an ass," She smiled. ", I like it!" The girl turned on her heels and bent down to the duffle. Loud clanking noises and paper pushing aroused from her direction. Raul stood awkwardly looking on at the girl pulling out random items, aids, and scrap out in large tows. Tin cans, stimpacks, crimpled clothes, a small dagger, empty Nuka-Cola bottles, a broken toaster . . .

"Uh boss?" He carefully striated over to her and looked at the weird sight. "You need some he-?" He was cut off by a flying boot and leather belts his direction. His old body reacted better than he anticipated and the junk flew past him hitting the nearby wall.

"What's yer' Size?" She yanked out a bundle of leather and metal plates.

"Huh?" He dogged another heap of trash. An old box of detergent and several metal bolts.

"Your clothes' size Mr. Tejada." She tilted her head his direction. "Shirt size? Pants, socks? If you're gonna' travel with me then you need some better armor than . . . ," She pointed a wrench in Raul's direction, blankly circling his clothes ", THAT."

He looked down at his attire. The Petro Chico suite had been Raul's only gab to dress in for a long time. He had had it for so long that he'd gotten used to its ugly green color, oil stained elbows, and patched up ass check. It was an old comfort that he actually sort of like it. "Hey! It's better than what your wearing chica!" His voice was bitten with a smidge of anger.

She stood up. Raul thought that perhaps that the female would come around with another canny snap, but instead held up a leather armor getup, and a black desperado cowboy hat. "Do you think these will fit?" Raul felt his eyes widen, for there at the ensemble's hips were homemade holsters, with a complete set of handguns that included a .357 Magnum Revolver and .99 MM pistol. "Sorry if the ass is tight but I had it tailored for me." Her mouth cocked a smile.