I arrived in the town an hour later. On the way, I was attacked by some Nightstalkers. Knowing full well how dangerous they were, I wisely ran away from them. My gunshot wound from yesterday was hurting like helll, but the adrenaline flowing freely in my bloodstream dampened some of it. They still got my scent though. I had to stand my ground and attack them head on. I ripped my pistol out of my holster and fired 6 rounds at the Nightstalker closest to me. It eked out a few more steps then collapsed, dead. The other Nightstalkers were much smarter than the Legionnaires from yesterday and fled with their tails between their legs. I then continued on my journey, unhindered.
As I walked into town, I saw the massive green dinosaur. It nearly blocked out the sun with its large head. That was where I would sell my rifle.
I walked up the steps and knocked on the door. There was no reply. Sensing how dangerous this could be, I slowly opened the creaking door with one hand, my pistol gripped tightly in the other one. As I walked in the store, the door behind the desk opened and Cliff Briscoe walked out with a broom in his hand. When he saw me, he immediately dropped his broom and I noticed a dark patch engulf the front of his pants.
"Take whatever you want! Please don't kill me," he managed to shriek.
"Cliff, Cliff it's me," I said incredulously.
"Goddamn it! You scared the hell out of me!"
"Sorry," I said sheepishly. "I knocked on the door but there was no answer so I had to be careful"
"Well be careful in someone else's shop! What do you need?"
"I need to sell my rifle. I'm also in the market for a new one. You have anything for sale?"
"Sure I do. Just wait here, I gotta change my pants."
As he walked past me and out of the store, I heard him mutter to himself, "Crazy kid, almost got me killed."
He came back a few minutes later with a fresh pair of pants and a frown on his face.
"Alright kid, whattaya selling?"
I gingerly removed my rifle from my shoulder and set it on the desk because I didn't want to damage it more than it already was. He looked it over for a few seconds with a bored expression and then said,
"Judging by its condition, it's seen a lot of use. I'm gonna assume it has some sentimental value to you, so I'll be generous. I'll give you four hundred caps."
He was lowballing me. I could feel it in his artificially relaxed demeanor. Doc Mitchell always said I had good perception, but that's a different story.
"That's bullshit and you know it. I'll sell it for 800," I countered.
Cliff soldiered on.
"The stock is bent, the rear sight is misaligned, and the lever is rusted so bad a super mutant wouldn't be able to cycle it."
"550?" I implored.
"Sure." He grasped my hand in a particularly strong handshake and was smiles all around. I couldn't help but smile with him. All I needed was 250 caps. I mentally patted myself on the back. As he let go of my hand, he scrounged around under his desk for a sack of caps. He tossed the jingling bundle to me with a smile.
"Feel free to spend them here, buddy."
"So where's that rifle you were talking about earlier?" I questioned.
His smile shifted imperceptibly for a fraction of a second, but it returned to its cheery state.
"It's here in my shop. Let me go get it for you."
He went to his room in the back of his shop and came out carrying a magnificent service rifle with a large grin. My eyes widened in amazement. The wooden furniture was brand new and it looked like it never fired more than 10 rounds at anything. It also sported an optical sight and extended magazines.
"Impressive huh? It's yours for 900 caps."
I plopped down the 550 and another 350 from my backpack. I was left with 400 caps.
"I would also like a few extra magazines and 120 more rounds."
"That'll cost ya."
I carefully took out 200 caps, my remaining .357 rounds, and an old pre war nudie magazine. He gratefully took all the stuff and put 2 extra magazines and 120 rounds on the counter.
"What are those?" I said, pointing at the small Dinky the Dinosaur toys.
"Those are the coolest toys in the world! Wanna buy one?" He exclaimed excitedly.
"I think I'll pass."
"Darn it. No one ever buys the T-Rexes. Anything else?"
"A room at the hotel please."
"Oh, I don't rent out rooms. You'll have to talk to Jeannie Crawford about that."
He saw the blank look on my face and continued.
"Oh yeah, you must've forgotten. She's in the room next to the Novac sign."
Satisfied, I left the shop with my new rifle. As I walked to the room, I could feel the sun's rays on the back of my head and neck. I had a new rifle, my stomach was full, my wound was beginning to heal, and I was getting some decent lodging. The world felt like a better place, even if only for a brief second.
I knocked on the door to the front office. This time there was a reply.
"Come in!"
I walked in and asked her,
"You must be Jeannie. Can I rent a room?"
"Yes, but please take off your hat when you walk into a room."
I read about etiquette in a few pre-war books, but I wasn't so sure it mattered much in a nuclear wasteland. The fact that she said that and a few other physical cues definitely tipped me off to her real nature. She may be an old lady, but I wouldn't be surprised if she clubbed baby Bighorners for sport. To oblige her, I removed my hat.
"Thank you." She said with a false sweetness in her voice.
"So can I rent a room?"
Say please!"
"Please."
"Please what?"
"Can I rent a room…please?" I said exasperatedly.
"Of course you can. It'll be 200 caps"
That was a steep price.
"How about 150?"
"I own a reputable business young man. I will not haggle for the price of a room with you."
Sighing, I pulled my last sack of caps out of my backpack and set it on the table.
"Thank you. Here is your room key. It is third from the left on the second floor."
I silently grabbed the room key and was about to leave when she spoke up.
"Anything to say young man?"
"Thank you." I sighed.
I was going to say some other choice words to her, but I was afraid of her having duplicate room keys and sneaking up to my room to club me to death.
"You're welcome!"
I stepped out of the room and into the wasteland. I walked up the steps to my room and I unlocked the door. There was a complimentary steak and bottle of water. There were even clean sheets! That certainly is a step up from a dirty, tattered sleeping bag on the sand. I set down my backpack and rifle on the floor and explored the rest of my room. There was also a dresser, partially stocked fridge, first aid kit, and a restroom. I was about to lie down and relax until I suddenly remembered I had no more caps. I would have to find a job to do around here. I put on my backpack, grabbed my new rifle and walked out of my room and back to Cliff's shop to find out about any jobs.
"Hey Cliff. You know any one around here who's hiring?"
"Yeah, I heard the McBride family is worried about some Brahmin rustling. They want the person who did that to pay."
"Sounds easy enough. Where's their house?"
"It's down there. Their house is the only one with a Brahmin pen next to it."
"Thanks Cliff."
"Yeah whatever."
I walked to their house and knocked on the door.
"Come in." An elderly voice said.
I opened the door and spotted an aged couple sitting on a couch.
"Hi, I heard you are worried about someone killing your Brahmin?"
"Oh thank god. Finally, someone is bothering to help us out." The old man said.
"Yeah, no problem. So what do you need?"
"There is someone coming by at the dead of night and killing our Brahmin! I want you to do something about it!"
What a polite guy. I was seriously debating whether to do this job, but it sounded easy enough. It was probably just some dumbass kids from the next town over anyways.
