Hit the Road

by Skurg

Casey's been raised by her parents to fend for herself in the Mojave since she was a kid. When she's torn from her home at the age of 17, she's left to find a new life for herself and survive the cruelty that the Mojave provides. As she grows older and tired of ongoing war, she plunges into a world of violence, drugs, blackmail and sex fueled insanity that is, New Vegas. Rated MA

2. Chapter 2

January 5th 2279

"Casey, there you are," Mom smiles as I walk down the stairs, "Good afternoon."
"Afternoon?" I grumble and scratch the back of my head, "What time is it?"
"12:30. I decided to let you sleep in."
"Lemmie sleep in?" I raise my eyebrows and sit down at the kitchen table. On the table's a note and I pick it up and skim through it, reading the list of plants that has my name on it that I need to collect, "Aw Mom!"
"All we need to get is some banana yucca fruit, some broc flower and some Nevada agave fruit."
"Why do I have to go?" I sigh as I get up and put on my hat.
"Because your father is preparing Mr Jackson's body for burial. I need someone to go to help me collect the plants and make sure someone doesn't come up on me."

Finding plants in the Mojave that are non-poisonous is something that requires a keen eye and patience. When Dad wasn't teaching me how to defend myself, Mom was teaching me how to survive on whatever food I could find. At age 10 I could start a fire with a stick and a knife, cook a full dinner using only plants, make clothes out of animal hide for the "colder" months, know how to use plants as makeshift medical supplies and, according to Mom most importantly, I was able to name and describe every known plant in the Mojave and tell which was dangerous and which wasn't. Mom and I walk down the road for around 15 minutes before making a sharp right. We abandon the road and instead start walking into the wild, making sure we're in a position where the NCR in the guard posts can see us. Mom loves picking the plants; she always seems to enjoy the "beauty" of nature, despitehow rare beauty is out here. I spot a banana yucca and cut it free from its stem and shove it into my bag.
"Your father told me that the Powder Gangers are moving around Atkinson," she sighs as she walks around looking for the plants.
"Really?" I frown, "When do you think they'll attack us?"
"Casey," she snaps, "Don't think like that!"
"It's only a matter of 'when', Mom, not 'if'," I sigh and wipe some excess plant juice off my blade onto the leg of my pants.
"You sound just like your father," she scowls and shakes her head, "You both never seem to put yourselves at ease, do you?"
"There isn't a reason to be at ease yet, Mom," I shrug and keep my eyes trained on the area around us.
"Relaxing a bit would help you," she takes a few plants and tucks them into her own bag, "You're still a young girl, Casey. Let the NCR worry about the Powder Gangers. We attacked them on Sunday, they won't attack us back, because they don't have the man power. Until that time comes, I want you to relax. Don't go hunting with your father, go talk with some of your friends instead."
"But I already do that, Mom," I complain as I check our list of the plants we need, "It's just a matter of- shush!" I shoot my hand up in the air, cutting myself off. I whip my head to the right and frown.
"What?" Mom frowns and crosses her arms.
"… Nothing," I mutter, "I thought I heard something."
"Again, more the reason you should relax more, Casey. You get worried too easily."
"I will, Mom. I promise," I smile at her and she hugs me tightly.
"That's my girl," she sighs, "Let's go home. The sooner you start acting less like a soldier and more like a kid, the better."

We walk back to the village and I leave Mom to take the plants to prepare dinner for tonight. I slip through the houses and walk up to the guard post, where I find Jacob sitting down and reading a book. I climb the ladder to his post and whack him over the head.
"Ow!" he snaps and drops his book, "What the hell was that for?"
I point to the south east, "I think I heard something running along here. Keep an eye on it for me, OK?"
Jacob chuckles and picks up his binoculars, "Casey you must be sucking on Jet, I've been watching around here for… huh…"
"What?"
He hands me the binoculars, "Take a look."
There's a small hill around 200 metres away from us with a tiny black dot at the top of it. I rub the lens with my jacket sleeve and look again, it's still there.
"What do you think?" I look down at him.
"It's probably a gecko," he shrugs and looks up at me with a smirk, "But we can't be too sure. Can we?"
I shake my head with a smile on my face as Jacob picks up his rifle. There isn't anything more entertaining for kids of NCR soldiers to do than to test their marksmanship. Before Jacob can shoot, he looks over his shoulder and hollers, "Commander?!"
Commander McDonald walks out of the main NCR office and looks up at his son, "What'd you see, boy?"
"Casey and I picked up an unknown shape in the distance, sir," he points at its general direction, "Permission to fire a warning shot, sir?"
"Aye aye, no more than two shots, Private," McDonald warns, before changing his tone to something a little more annoyed and patronizing, "And, if it doesn't move son, don't keep shooting it."
"Aye aye," Jacob mutters and aims down his rifle.
"You got a clear shot," I smile and nod at him, "Go for it, Jacob."
Jacob's shot skims along the top of the hill a few inches from the black shape, it almost immediately disappears.
"Dammit… I'll keep my eye on this," Jacob frowns and nods at me. I look ahead at the small hill and frown to myself.

"In other news, local reinforcement has finally arrived to Hover Dam. Exhausted troops were greeted this morning with fresh, able bodied men and enough supplies to last them through the winter…"
"Check," I tap my fingers on my cards as Dad turns up the radio. Dad lays down three new cards and I rest my feet against the table.
"What's this I hear about you and Jacob firing guns at the watch post today?" Mom frowns as she pushes my feet off the table.
"I didn't fire anything, Ma," I sigh and nudge a worn out, scratched gambling chip onto the table, "We were looking into something and Jacob fired his gun, nothin' more. You shouldn't worry about these kinds of things."
Mom gives me a look and I purse my lips to hide the smirk on my face.
"Get your feet off the table, Casey," Mom says bitterly. Mom hates it when Dad and I gamble when we play poker, when I put my feet up on the table, and when I "have a smart mouth". Today isn't her lucky day, but she doesn't say a word as she sits on the chair sewing a tear in one of her skirts, looking miserably at the stack of plates left behind after dinner.
"Them Powder Gangers're probably what you and Jacob saw today," Dad frowns and takes a sip of his beer, "I don't want you wandering away from town for a few days, understand?"
"Understood," I nod.
"And keep your knife with you."
"Yes Dad," I sigh.
"I'm just lookin' out for you, kiddo," he chuckles and shakes his head, "I ain't gonna be there when you have to be hacking at some Powder Ganger with only your fingernails."
"Robert!" Mom gasps, "Don't talk that way, for Heaven's sake!"
"Aw Casey isn't a baby, darlin'," Dad chuckles, "She's smart enough to handle herself."
"I'm gonna go to bed," I sigh and flick my cards into the pot, "I fold."
"Coward," Dad teases as he gathers up his chips.
I walk upstairs and close the door behind me. I dig underneath my mattress and find the small bag underneath and quietly slide out my 9mm. I slowly slide out the magazine to maybe muffle the noise and check how many rounds are inside, Jacob was kind enough to give me a full clip. I smile and load it, cock the gun, and turn on the safety. I get changed for bed and slide the gun underneath my pillow and keep my knife at my bedside table. I'm not worried, I'm an NCR rat, born and raised in a blanket of safety. Between me and them are guys who've been trained to kick ass twenty four hours a day. If that fails, I have a gun that I can assemble as disassemble blindfolded and with my hands tied behind my back. Nobody's gonna be able to lay a finger on me, because I'm ready, and the NCR is ready too.

January 6th

I walk over to Dad's guard post early this morning and hand him a glass of water. It's especially hot today, and it's only 11AM.
"Dang it's hot," I groan and grab Dad's binoculars. Everything is quiet, no mysterious shapes to be seen.
"No contact for a few hours, we saw a few figures moving around early this morning, but it could mean anything. Could be a geckosor a pack of wild dogs."
"I'm not worried, Dad," I smile and hand him the binoculars.
Dad looks around and smiles, handing me his rifle, "You wanna take over for me for a few minutes?"
"What? Why?" I frown as he stands up.
"I've gotta use the bathroom, nothing's gonna go wrong," he nods and pushes me into the chair, "You'll be fine."

Dad drops down and I look around. I feel exposed up here, anyone could take a shot at me from here, my chest and head is sticking out of the wooden barrier, anyone could pick me off right now. Sweat starts to trickle down my temples, and I can feel my hair sticking against my blue baseball cap. "Stay calm, Casey…" I murmur to myself. But I can't, at any second I could be picked off. I'd never have someone to be with, sleep with or hang out with, I'd be a rotting corpse in a box. I see a small glint and instantly point my gun at it and look down at the scope, nothings there.
"Jesus…" I shiver and wipe my forehead.
"Boo!" Jacob shouts. I jolt and look behind me and groan as he hoists himself up the ladder and stands beside me.
"Well, well. What's this? Casey's gotta gun," he grins and picksup Dad's rifle.
"Go away, Jacob," I sigh and turn my head away from him.
"I thought kids weren't supposed to be holding guns?" he chuckles.
"We're the same age, moron," I scowl and cross my arms.
"Don't pout," he chuckles and hands me the gun back, "Don't let the Commander catch you, he'll kick you and your Dad's asses."
"That isn't a nice way to talk to a lady, Jacob," Dad chuckles from the ground, "I think Casey can handle herself. Don't you have boots to polish, Private?"
"No, sir," Jacob grumbles and shakes his head to hide his embarrassment, "I've got places to be."
"Me too," I nod at Dad and hand him his gun when he climbs back onto the tower. Jacob stands back to let me climb down first, but I roll my eyes and drop down the guard post. I land smoothly on my feet, just as I hear a loud boom.
"No!" I hear Dad cry out. I whip my head up and see Jacob crash onto the ground beside me on his back.
"Dad?!" I look up at him when I see him firing his gun.
"Casey! Drag Jacob to a medic!"
"What?! Why?!"
I look down at Jacob, who's looking numbly at a seeping wound in his chest.
"Oh no," I gasp and drop down onto my knees beside him. I can't move him, it'll literally kill him. His hands are covering his wounds, but I can see the blood flooding around his fingers, staining them as he looks up at me. His eyes are frozen in terror, and his body jolts as he struggles for breath.
"Easy, Jacob," I whisper, "It's gonna be OK."
My body's paralysed in fear and shock; I've never seen so much blood before. Sure, I'd seen injured NCR all the time, but never fresh wounds. The worst I ever got to see was a bad cut on someone's leg, not a fresh wound. My brain is moving a mile a minute, my mouth trembles for something to say to make Jacob feel better or be somehow stronger in this situation, but there's only word in my mind that sticks out. In one movement, I turn my head back to the centre of the town and scream, with every ounce of energy I can muster, "Medic!"
I drop to my knees beside Jacob and my eyes lock with his, and we both become even more terrified. I can't remember a thing that I was taught about first-aid, I don't even remember if I'm supposed to remove his jacket. My fingers hover over his hands, his now almost crimson hands. He's making "C…C-C-C," noises, like he's trying to say my name. He's begging me to fix him, to do anything to make the pain go away. I can't do anything; I don't even know what's happened to him entirely. I assume he's shot, he has to be, but I don't know with what gun. I feel a hand grabbing my shoulder and throwing me away from Jacob. Two medics crouch over him after they drop a stretcher beside him. I see Commander McDonald frantically drop down beside his son, his face blank and emotionless as Jacob struggles for his life underneath him. I'm sitting on the dirt a few feet behind the area, and I can hear the gunfire finally stop.
"D…D…" Jacob croaks and looks up at the Commander. The Medics look at the Commander and shake their heads, McDonald doesn't acknowledge him.
"You're going to be fine, Jacob," he says firmly, "We're going to get you help."
I shake my head and get onto my feet, my legs tremble and I feel my father's hands clap onto my shoulders and try to pull me back. My feet stumble back as he pulls, and I look down to support myself. I see that my hands are dotted with specks of red and it takes everything I have not to pass out. I feel myself being lifted up and my father carries me home. I look over his shoulder and see McDonald standing over his son and pulls out his gun.
"Don't!" I shout and try to wriggle out of Dad's arms to save him.
"Don't look Casey," Dad says gently, like I'm a child. I thrash and twist my body in his arms.
I hear the gunshot and I feel like my body weighs a million tonnes. Dad picks up the pace and shoves me through the door to the house.

"Oh thank god!" Mom howls when she sees us, "I heard either Jacob or Casey got shot!"
"Jacob's dead," Dad grunts as he carries me up to my bed, "The blood on Casey's hands isn't hers, but it needs to be washed off."
Tears prick my eyes and I look up at my parents, but Dad's already left and I can't see Mom. I feel warm water on my hands and delicate fingers stroke the blood from my skin. Tears stream down my face, my body shaking with silent sobs. Mom doesn't cry, because she looks as horrified as I am. I can't stop shaking;convulsing as raw emotion controls me.
"It's going to be fine, my beautiful baby girl," she whispers and I feel a sharp sting on my right arm. I look over and see her injecting me with something. My body begins to feel warm, and my body stops shaking. I feel very tired, and I turn to my mother, "I couldn't do anything," I mumble and close my eyes to hide my tears from her, "I couldn't do nothin',"
"I know you couldn't, honey. Don't feel guilty. Rest, everything will be fine."

January 8th

"May they find eternal piece in the arms of our Lord," the priest says solemnly, crossing himself and closing his Bible.
"Amen," everyone in Atkinson murmurs. My feet haven't left the floor the entire funeral service. My father keeps his hand firmly on my shoulder, somehow trying to find me comfort as Jackson and Jacob's coffins are lowered into the ground. CommanderMcDonald hasn't said a word to anyone except for his Lieutenants since Jacob died, today isn't an exception. The second the service ends he stands silently as four soldiers fill each grave with dirt. When the job is done, he simply goes into his office and shuts the door behind him.
"Go back inside Casey," Dad sighs when I keep staring at the grave. We've been in lockdown since Jacob died; all civilians and off duty soldiers are confined to their houses for our own safety. I trudge home and collapse onto the couch and rub my eyes with my fingertips. Mom walks into the house and locks the door behind her.
"You should have worn something more presentable, Casey," she mutters as she takes off her formal hat. I look down at my shirt and jeans and sigh, "I can't do this right now, Mom."
"Your father wants his rifle primed and ready for you to use in case something happens."
I get up with an annoyed posture and snatch his rifle from where it sits on the stand on our bookshelf, "Something is going to happen, Mom. It already has."
"We don't know that," she snaps as I sit down on the kitchen table and start to clean Dad's gun.
"Jacob is already dead, Mom!" I argue back, "We should be evacuating all the kids out of here."
"Where is safe for them, Casey?" she snaps irritably.
"Nowhere, but there're places where it's less dangerous. Goodsprings, for one."
"What kind of mother is going to be separated from them? What kind of father will be able to take their children being taken away from them when he needs them most?"
"You say this while your child is loading a gun," I yell back and load a clip, "Those damn Powder Gangers will be at our door any second! They want payback for what we did to them on Sunday!We need to get the kids out of here so they can't get hurt! We can hold them back, no problem, but I don't want to be at another damned funeral for a death we could have prevented!"
"Watch your language! You're letting your emotions control you again, Casey. Moving the kids will mean taking more soldiersaway from Atkinson, when they're needed here. The Powder Gangers will kidnap them and use them for leverage, or worse!"
I scowl and pick up the gun, "I'm going to my room. Call me if I have to start running somewhere or hide underneath my bed."
I slam the door to my room behind me and look at my bag that I had stuffed with food, clothes and hid my 9mm underneath it with my clip tucked inside ready for action. Mom and Dad told me not to do this, but I told them that it made me feel prepared, so they didn't protest it again. I lie on my bed and flip through a history book Mom gave me. I read for a few hours, listening to the sounds of the nervous soldiers patrolling the town around me.
I look outside and judge the time to be around 5PM. I get up and walk downstairs and help Mom with dinner. We eat in silence, and I finish my plate.
"Go to bed, Casey," Mom smiles comfortingly, "You need your rest."
I sigh and nod. I crawl into bed and pull the covers over me after removing my 9mm from my bag and putting it underneath my pillow. I curl myself up into a ball and shiver when I close my eyes. All I can see is Jacob underneath me, bleeding out and having his blood spilled onto my fingers while he stares up at me with terror in his eyes. I pull my blanket over my head and start crying into my pillow so Mom won't hear me. My brain starts working overtime thinking about him. It couldn't be my fault, it couldn't have. I couldn't have done anything to help him, couldn't I? I roll onto my back and look up at the ceiling. Jacob and I weren't anything special, we were skimming between friends and friendly acquaintances, it was nothing personal, we were just never really that close. He needed me, and I didn't do anything. Oh man, I'm sorry Jacob…

I jolt awake a feel a sharp wave of heat against my body. I hear yelling outside and screaming, and that's all I need to jump onto my feet and grab my gun.
"Mom?!" I shout and throw my door open and run into my parent's room. Mom isn't there. I double back into my room and frantically change into my jeans and jacket when I start to hear gunfire. No, no, this isn't happening. I hesitate when my head starts to feel heavy and my hand grips the strap on my bag. What do I do? What do I do?"
I spin around on one heel and throw my bag over my shoulder, "Find Dad, Casey," I sigh as I run down the stairs with my gun in my hand, "He'll know what to do."
I open the door and almost scream. Flames are licking along thehouses around Atkinson, and I see people clambering over the walls. My neighbours are all firing gunshots outside their windows, some are screaming at their family members to put out fires around their homes or find more ammo. The heat is a constant punch against my face, for every ball of fire that rises from a fire bomb, it sends a heat wave around the town. Soldiers who don't carry rifles run around carrying buckets and desperately try to put out some fires. Some fires have engulfed around houses, and I don't know if I can hear screaming from the inside or if it's just my imagination.
"Dad!" I shout as I run to Dad's usual guard post, "Mom?!"
"Go back into your house, Casey!" a soldier shouts at me, "Go inside!"
I ignore him and push past him through the running soldiers. I see the familiar blue jackets of the Powder Gangers and one lands a couple of feet in front of me. I point and shoot at his chest, sending him flying back onto the ground, screaming.
"Casey!" Dad shouts, slamming into me sideways and tackling me onto the ground.
"Dad!" I howl and look up at him, "Where's Mom?"
"She's running to Goodsprings," he shouts at me over the noise of the gunfire, "Run there, Casey! Run and don't stop no matter what you do!"
"Go with me," I shout back at him, getting onto my feet and tugging at his hand, "Come on!"
"No! I need to make sure everybody is safe and battle these men back!"
"Screw that!" I shout and yank hard on his hand, "Come with me Dad! Please!"
"Run!" he shouts and pushes me in the direction of the exit and hands me his rifle.
"… Dad?" I look up at him with alarmed eyes.
"For God's sake, Casey! Run!"
I start running, and I start running hard. My feet slam hard on the dirt path as bullets whiz around behind me. I turn around and look over at Atkinson, burning with moans and screams creeping through the air. I wipe my eyes and shake my head, "What the hell happened?" I whisper and put my hands behind my head. I see a group of Powder Gangers running for the gate, and I suddenly feel something inside of me. In a flash of anger, I raise my Dad's rifle. It weighs nothing and I grip it tightly and fire. One shot hits one Ganger in the back and he falls to the ground. Before the others can turn around I've shot them from a 100 metre distance, and I only realise what I've done when they lie, writhing on the ground and my rifle is making click noises as it almost cries out for an empty barrel. I know if I stop to think about it I'll throw up, so I turn around and start running to Goodsprings.

I double time it and make it there in an hour, where someone is waiting for me. I can't make the person out from the darkness, but they aren't wearing a blue jacket, so I don't try to shoot them with my pistol.
"Easy there!" someone gasps and wraps their arms around me to stop my running.
"Where's my Mom?" I cough and try to push past him.
"Easy now," it's a gentle female voice, "Settle down, you're safe…"
I feel someone gently taking the gun off of me and my fingers spring away from it.
"Up we go, kid," another voice grumbles as he lifts me up, "You're in Goodsprings, you're safe."
Someone carries me into a house, a warm, cozy little house.
"I'm a doctor, OK?" he says gently when I look up at his face. He's an old man, with a bald head and a small moustache, "Your feet are all ripped up, I'm gonna clean it up, alright?"
"Alright." I look down and realise that I had neglected to put on shoes in my fit to leave the house. My feet are bleeding and I imagine would probably be infected unless cleaned out soon.
He lies me down onto a comfortable bed and gives me something to drink.
"Where's my mother?"
"She's fine," he concentrates on gently cleaning out my feet.
"Thank you for this," I sigh.
"No need to thank me, kiddo," he shakes his head, "I'm a doctor, just call me Doc Mitchell."
"I'm Casey. I'm sorry I don't have any money on me at the moment."
"Eh… consider this one on the house," he chuckles and nods at me, "Now, guess what?"
"What?"
"Look down at your hand."
I look down and see my hands are shaking really badly. Even when I concentrate I can't stop it.
"Relax now, I'll give you something to soothe your nerves," he smiles delicately and injects me with something I can only assume is morphine. Before I can even protest, I'm out like a light.