A/N – I had to think about what rating to give this. I guess it's going to get a little violent and bloody, plus there will be swearing, so the safe option was to make it M. There will eventually be a romance, that will be established rather quickly, though will be 'background noise' during most of the story.
If you are wondering, there is probably a little influence from the 'Bourne' series of movies (considering they're some of my favourites, little surprise.)
I have a few chapters to upload, so I'll be uploading one every Friday until everything I have written so far is up. Then this will go quiet as I focus on another story for the time being.
I took a breath, sucking it deep down into my chest, before slowly breathing out. Not wanting to open my eyes, not sure of where I was, I lifted a hand to my face. I could feel a scar along my cheek, running my fingers up towards my forehead, where I could feel something wet. Might be a cloth or a bandage. I could feel my head was lacking some hair, running fingers along what felt like a smooth scalp.
Taking another deep breath, I opened my eyes and I wasn't surprised that my vision is blurry. I remembered the dreams I'd experienced, though I can't think of what had happened before. I just remember noises, and colours, and… It doesn't matter, as my vision slowly corrected itself, and I recognise I am looking at a ceiling. Pressing myself down, whatever I am lying on is soft and rather comforting.
"Easy there," a voice stated.
My eyes immediately widen completely, and I sit up far quicker than I should have. I immediately feel woozy, and want to be sick. Placing my head in my hands, I hear footsteps and then a gentle hand on my shoulder.
"Take it easy, young man. There's no rush to get up. Your body has taken quite a beating."
"Where am I?" I managed to croak out.
"All in good time. All in good time. Just get your bearings first. There's a lot to explain."
I waited until I felt equilibrium, though I had no desire to try and stand just yet. Just sitting up is enough to send my head spinning, and my stomach is still flipping. I take a series of deep breaths, keeping the feeling of wanting to be sick at bay, as I finally sit up straight before leaning back. Opening my eyes, I look around for the source of the voice.
"There, that's better," the voice said. I look at the man. His voice matches what I'd expect. A bald head. Wise eyes. Moustache. And the clothes of a... I couldn't place it. My eyes moved from him around the room, taking in everything. He had plenty of supplies, particularly medicinal. I guess he's a doctor?
Returning my eyes to him, I ask, "Where am I?"
"You're in a small town called Goodsprings." The name meant nothing to me, and my face must have been blank. "You don't remember arriving here?"
"No. The last thing I remember is…" Shit. Where was I last?
"You don't remember?"
I thought hard for a few seconds but absolutely nothing came to mind. "No."
"Oh… Okay, how about this. What's your name?"
That was even worse. What the hell? My name is… I remained silent. I had no idea where I was, who I was, what I was doing there. I closed my eyes and tried to beckon memories. Any memories. But while I had flashes of the dreams I'd experienced, even those meant nothing to me. They didn't tell me anything important.
"You don't remember?" I shook my head. The man got to his feet and crossed the room, picking up a wallet, before walking over and handing it to me. "Maybe this will tell you who you are? See if it jogs the old memory."
There wasn't much in the wallet. There was a card that had a name on it, assuming it may have been ID, and also a card for something called the Mojave Express. Other than that, there was some scrap paper, none of it meaning anything to me. "Uhtred?" I looked at the man. "Is my name Uhtred?"
The man shrugged. "I'm not sure. But that wallet was on your person when you were dragged in here. I can only assume that is your name. Unless you stole the wallet." He reached a hand across. "My name is Mitchell, by the way." I shook the offered hand. "So I guess you might be wondering what happened, particularly if you can't remember?"
I nodded. "I don't remember a thing. Just the sound of a gunshot. It's like it's still ringing in my ears even now."
Mitchell got to his feet, returning with a small mirror. "If you can't remember anything, you won't remember what you looked like." Taking the mirror, I looked at myself. Piercing blue eyes were the first things I noticed. There was a scar down my right cheek, and a couple more across my scalp. Half my head had been shaved, the other half apparently blonde and short. "You were shot, Uhtred. In fact, you weren't just shot. You were executed. Or, at least, whoever shot you attempted to execute you."
"By who?"
"I don't know. I didn't see it happen."
"I'm still alive so I'm guessing I was lucky?"
Mitchell laughed. "Lucky? That's not the half of it, Uhtred. I wouldn't suggest you head to New Vegas anytime soon, as I think you've just used up all the luck you could possibly have. I managed to remove the bullet, but you've been left with a metal plate in your head. Go on, rap your knuckles against your head." I did, and while it didn't clang, it was far harder than normal. "It not a large plate, but it was necessary due to the damage the bullet made. And I guess the bullet is what's caused your amnesia."
"So I can't remember anything, not even my name, but I can still speak, walk and everything else?"
"The brain is a strange and beautiful thing, Uhtred. No-one really knows much about it. At least, not anymore. And I'm not a brain surgeon. All I could do was make sure I got the bullet out, fix the part of your skull that was damaged and then wait for you to eventually wake up."
"How long have I been out?"
"About a week. I've used drugs to keep you out while the swelling went down."
I couldn't think of any more questions to ask. Not knowing who I was, the reason I was in Goodsprings, whether I was travelling anywhere or not… I was at a loss. What the hell do I do now? Try and find someone who might know me? Getting to my feet, I attempted walking, and was surprised it was rather easy, though my balance was still slightly off.
"You have a mirror around anywhere?" I asked, "I wouldn't mind seeing what I look like."
"Try the bathroom. There's one in there that should show you."
I tried a couple of doors, revealing a bedroom and a kitchen, before finding the bathroom. The mirror was rather dirty but I could still see myself. I wasn't exactly tall, I figured around six foot, though I didn't really know. I took off my shirt and noticed a couple of scars across my body. Running my fingers along one, I could only think I wonder where that one is from? I was rather tanned, leaving me to wonder what I had done with my life up to that point. I wasn't thin, but I wasn't fat, and I seemed to have slight muscular definition, leaving me even more confused. Did I work under the sun for a living?
Walking back into the main room, I took a seat on the couch near Mitchell. "So, what you expecting?"
I shrugged. "I didn't know what to expect. I think I might as well just shave my entire head for the time being though."
"Considering you have no supplies, I can give you a few things to tide you over so you can make your way."
I was astounded by his generosity. "Thank you. I'll endeavour to pay you back."
He waved his hand dismissively. "I'm a doctor. I'm supposed to help people. And considering what you've been through, it wouldn't feel right to send you out into the world with only the clothes on your back. No, the world is a dark, dangerous place, my friend. First, you're going to need protection. And by that I mean a weapon. Second, you're going to need a little bit of money. Third, if you shave your head, you're definitely going to need a hat. You don't want a burned head at the end of each day."
"Let me shave first. Then we can discuss options."
Telling me that he had shaving equipment in the bathroom, I made quick work of the rest of my hair, and my bald reflection was staring back at me a few minutes later. With a few days' stubble on my face as it was, the jagged scar on my cheek, and more scars on my scalp, I wondered how intimidating I looked.
"Any idea what I should do? Where I should go?" I asked, once back in the main room.
Mitchell played with his moustache as he thought. "Honestly, there's not a lot going on in Goodsprings, Uhtred. If you want to hang around here, by all means do so, but if I were you, I'd leave as soon as possible." He got up and disappeared, returning a few seconds later with a map. Laying it out on a nearby table, I got up and we gathered around it as he started to point. "New Vegas is north, but you won't want to head straight north. Deathclaws. To the south you've got Primm. Further than that is the Mojave Outpost. NCR."
"Who?"
Mitchell shook his head. "It's not important right now. After Primm, you can head east to reach Nipton. Small little town, not much to it. Bad reputation. But you'll have to pass through it. North from there you've got Novac. Good place to pick up supplies and rest if you need to. If you follow the main road from there, you should eventually reach New Vegas. But to be honest, Uhtred, it's up to you what you want to do. The world is your oyster."
I returned to the couch, sitting back and stroked my chin. "I guess there are two things I need to do. One. I need to find whoever shot me. And two. I need to find out why they shot me. I mean, it can't have just been a random thing, right?"
Mitchell shrugged again. "People are inclined to commit murder for any number of reasons nowadays. That's the way of the world. But the way you were shot and left for dead, I think you might be right. You were shot for a reason. Are you sure you can't remember why?"
"I could sit here and think for the next week, month and year. I don't think I'm going to remember a thing. Oh well, I guess I have a clean slate to build from."
"Unless you run into anyone who might know you?"
"That will certainly help."
"How are you feeling? Think you could head outside and at least have a look around?"
"Do you think I'm well enough?"
"Sure. As I said, I was keeping you under just to make you sure you were okay. But apart from the amnesia, you seem physically fit at least." He got to his feet and gestured. "Come on, I'll get you some supplies and we'll head out."
I followed him into a storeroom and he started to pile things in my arms. A blue and yellow jumpsuit, which has the number 21 on the back. An electronic device which I didn't recognise. Bottle caps. A 9mm pistol. And some bobby pins. He must have seen my confused look, gesturing for me to follow him back into the main room.
"It's a vault suit," he explained, "You remember or heard of the vaults?"
"No, but they sound familiar."
"I lived there most of my life, along with my wife, until we decided to leave. They were built before the bombs dropped. Try it on, it should fit you."
Dressed in only a shirt and underwear, slipping into the jumpsuit was easy. Zipping it up, it felt comfortable, though I wondered if I wasn't going to find it too hot outside. "What this?" I asked, holding up the electronic device.
"A Pip-Boy. You'll find it definitely comes in handy. Here, I'll help you put it on." He attached it to my left forearm, strapping it up so it was tight enough not to move. It didn't feel as heavy as I anticipated. "You'll quickly get used to the thing. Everyone had one in a vault."
"Bottle caps?"
"Currency, Uhtred. Old world money is used for nothing more than kindling for a fire, or if you need to wipe your arse. Caps are king, though there is also a barter economy. If you have something someone wants, they might just have something you require in return. The NCR have tried to introduce their own money, but no-one really wants to use it."
I held the pistol on my right hand. It was light, maintained, and after a quick check, had a full clip. I pulled back the slide and held it in both hands, taking aim at a spot on the wall, immediately falling into a stance. I have no idea why I did it. It just felt… natural…
"You seem to know what you're doing with that, at least."
"You got something I can holster it in?"
"Yeah, give me a second." He disappeared again, returning with a belt that I looped around my waist, placing the pistol in the holster. "Huh, you look like one of those old world cowboys. Speaking of which, here's a hat too. That'll keep your noggin cool."
"Thanks for everything, doc."
"No worries. I'm just glad we didn't have another senseless death. Goodsprings is a peaceful little town. I don't want that reputation ruined."
Escorted through the door, the first thing I do is make sure my hat is in place. The heat hit me immediately as I walked outside, and even with hat in place, I had to squint as the light hit my eyes. I daren't look up, keeping my eyes level as I take in what there is of Goodsprings. There wasn't much to it, not that I expected a bustling city. Underneath my suit, I immediately feel the sweat start to form.
"Barely a cloud. And it's not even noon yet," Mitchell muttered, "Come on, I'll show you to the saloon."
As we strolled along, I continued to look around, though there was very little to see. It was dry, desolate and rather dull, in all honesty. Barely any life to it whatsoever. Within minutes, I felt parched and ready for a drink. Mentioning that to Mitchell, he mentioned that water is available in the saloon. Clean water too.
"I've just thought of something, Mitchell. Any idea where I was found?"
"Yeah, I can take you there if you want. Maybe that'll help your memories."
We walked past the saloon and started climbing a hill, an enormous water tower north of the cemetery itself. Walking past a number of graves, I ignored those, as though I didn't exactly have any memories, I started to feel slightly unsettled. We eventually came to a stop next to what appeared to be an open grave.
"You were found in here. Whoever shot you at least looked you in the eyes when they did it. After you'd been shot, you fell forward into the hole and they at least partially covered you. I guess the only reason you survived is that you were found very quickly."
"Who found me?"
I noticed he looked a little uncomfortable, rubbing the back of his neck before glancing at me. "Its name is Victor."
"It?"
"Victor is a securitron."
"A securi-what?"
"Um, a robot." Mitchell turned to look back upon the town of Goodsprings. "Victor is usually around somewhere. He..."
"He? I thought it was an it."
Mitchell shrugged. "The voice is a male tone, so I guess that's why it's a he. Anyway, Victor might seek you out himself. You can ask him more questions about what happened. I'm not sure if he saw it actually happen, you being shot and all, but he's the one who dug you out and dragged you to my place."
"I guess I should thank him."
I looked back down at the hole again. Guess I should be glad I'm not still lying down there, at least. But it stirs no memories. No real feelings in all honesty. I just want to know who the hell I am and why I was shot. Something on the ground next to the grave caught my eye, crouching down to see a number of cigarette butts on the ground.
"You smoke?" Mitchell asked.
"No. Or, at least, I don't think so. I'm certainly not feeling any urge."
I picked up a couple, handing one to Mitchell, as I looked at the one in my hand, even going so far as to sniff it. He took a good look at the one in his hand and whistled. "Well, whoever was smoking this, and I can only assume it was one of the people who put you in that hole, they have good taste in cigarettes. You don't find this make everywhere."
"I'll take a couple as evidence. Doubt it'll actually help, but anything that may put me on the right track…"
With no desire to hang around the grave any longer than necessary, I gestured back towards the saloon. I stopped for a moment as the hill gave me a good view of the surrounding region. I could see some sort of building complex in the distance leading out of Goodsprings, but the hills prevented me seeing anything further to the south.
Despite being day-time, part of the sign was illuminated, though the word 'saloon' appeared to be made up of a number of different signs, each letter in a different font. "Prospector Saloon?" I asked.
Mitchell shrugged. "That was its name when I first arrived here."
Removing my hat as we walked inside, it was rather dark and dreary, only the open windows providing any sort of real light, though we didn't leave the heat outside, inside just as if not even a little hotter. There were a couple of people at the bar, another couple of people sitting at a nearby table, and music was quietly playing at a nearby jukebox. Walking to the bar, there was no-one behind it, one of the men at the bar mentioning someone called Trudy had stepped out for a while.
"Uhtred, I'd like to introduce you to someone," Mitchell stated, gesturing to a woman sitting at one of the three booths. "This is Sunny Smiles."
Turning and offering my hand, the first thing I noticed were the dark brown eyes and an easy smile. Her skin was tanned, and a quick look up and down suggested she was… fit. She took my offered hand and I was impressed by the firm grip. "Pleasure," I stated.
"Ah, you must be that young man we've all heard about." Her eyes moved up, clearly looking at my scalp. "Couple of mean looking scars too. You're lucky to be alive."
"So I've been told."
"Unfortunately, Uhtred is missing some memories. Well, to be honest, he's missing all of them. We only know his name thanks to the identification he kept in his wallet. But there is little else he knows about himself."
"So no idea what brought you to Goodsprings?" she asked. I shook my head. Her eyes moved to my hip and the holstered pistol. "How are you with a pistol?"
I shrugged. "I have no idea," I admitted, "I haven't fired it yet."
"Well, if you have no memory, I guess you don't know if you can handle a rifle or not."
"No, but I can ask why?"
She gestured to the empty seat across from her, sliding into the booth beside Mitchell. "Well, I can only assume that someone such as yourself probably won't want to hang around Goodsprings the rest of their life. I certainly know you're no local."
"You don't know me?"
"I've never seen you before in my life."
I couldn't help a rueful chuckle. "Well, I guess that answers one question I had in my mind."
"True, and if I don't know you, then no-one else will either. Sorry, Uhtred, but you are definitely not native, at least to this small town. And I have a feeling you're not local to any of the nearest towns either. Anyway, I am wondering if you're good with a rifle because maybe you could help me with a couple of problems and earn some caps to help you on your way."
I have to admit that it interested me. Doing something was better than wallowing in self-pity, or sitting back, wracking my mind, trying to figure out who I was, where I was from and where I had been going. I had no real urge to get on the road just yet, mostly because I had no idea where to go. And I figured I wasn't exactly going to be thrown into the thick of the fire just yet. "What do you need help with?"
"One small task, shouldn't be a problem. The other one is… a bit more difficult to ask. You see, I'm a hunter. I take care of the vermin that infest towns like this, while also making a few caps by selling whatever I can cut away from the bodies. In addition to that, I help protect the town."
"Do you have much trouble?"
"Not usually. We're a little off the beaten track, and we're too poor to be seen as a target. But any town needs to be protected. Left unprotected, even a town like this would be easy pickings to someone or a group that wanted to cause trouble."
"We haven't had any major problems since I arrived," Mitchell added.
"Okay, what's the small task? Vermin, I take it?"
"Yeah. We'll head out, and I'll see how you handle a rifle. Once we do that, we can go shoot us some geckos," Sunny replied enthusiastically.
"Geckos?" I asked, not sure what they were, though I could take a guess or two.
"Vicious little bastards. But you can use their skin for leather, and their meat is some good eating."
Getting to my feet, Mitchell said he would head home, but that if I was going to remain in town, that there would be a bed available for me at his house. Thanking him again for his generosity, I followed Sunny outside, eventually ending up outside what appeared to be what I guess would have once been someone's home.
"Home sweet home," she stated, pulling at the door, hearing it creak as I held it open upon walking in, slamming behind me, surprised the door didn't simply fall from its hinges. "I have a few rifles in stock. I'll give you a varmint rifle and some ammo. You can keep it when you choose to leave as a memento of your time in our little town." She paused, before looking at me, "Though I'm not sure waking up here without any sort of memory is something worth remembering."
"At least I know my name now."
"Hmmm. That's something, I guess." She handed me a rifle and a small box of ammo. "There you go. Now, follow me. First, we'll just see if you can actually shoot. If you can, I'll lead the way to some known gecko dens. They've started to be a problem yet again."
The sun was now high in the sky, baking the land and anyone who happened to be walking underneath it. Sunny took a canteen attached to her belt and, after taking a drink, offered it to me. I looked at it cautiously. I had no memory, but I looked around and couldn't see any sort of water source. Sure, there's that water tower, but how often does it even rain here?
"It's safe. Purified water, Uhtred." I took a sip and almost groaned in pleasure. I had to resist drinking the entire canteen, restricting myself to a couple of mouthfuls before handing it back. "Make sure you get yourself a canteen, and only ever drink it if it is definitely purified. You don't want to drink anything else. You'll make yourself dreadfully ill, if not kill yourself."
"Sound advice."
We ended up standing before a fence, watching as Sunny lined up a series of empty glass bottles. Once they were in position, she stood next to me. "I know you don't have any memories, but let's see how you hide a rifle." Simply getting into a position that felt natural, looking down the sights, Sunny walked slowly around me, I guess looking me up and down. "Well, whatever it is, that certainly seems to be natural. Perhaps just instinct?"
"Just doing what feels right."
"Okay, see if you can hit the bottles."
Swinging the rifle slowly, I looked down the sight, closing my left eye. Finger feathering the trigger, I controlled my breathing and, at the moment that felt right, pulled. By the time the bottle was smashed apart, I was already moving the rifle to the next bottle. Same process. Sight, feather, pull. Smashed bottle, already moving. Third bottle the same thing.
With all bottles gone, I made the rifle safe before pointing the barrel at the ground. I turned towards Sunny, who looked rather surprised. "Well, um, you seem to have some talent."
I shrugged. "As I said, just doing what felt natural."
"Well, I don't think personal safety will be a problem. But before we move on, perhaps we can test you with a pistol. I'll put up three more bottles, and we'll move back a little further. Let's see if you really are that good."
After she set up another three bottles, she led me back a few more metres from the fence. Looping the rifle around me again, I took the pistol from my holster, and though it was different to holding a rifle, the general practice was still the same. Two hands, controlled breathing, feather and pull the trigger. Bang. Bang. Bang. Three bullets. No more than five seconds to hit the three bottles. Even I had to admit being slightly impressed. I had no idea why I had that sort of talent, but I noticed the slight jaw drop from Sunny.
"Sure you can't hang around?" she asked, I think only half joking.
I shrugged again, feeling a little embarrassed. "Again, it just felt natural. All on instinct. I can't tell you where I learned it or why I know."
"Well, I'd unsling that rifle but I don't think you're going to find a few geckos too much hassle."
We spent the next couple of hours wandering the local area. Sunny had an idea of where the gecko burrows were, though they always seem to know when we were coming, and she was right about one thing. They were vicious little bastards, having absolutely no problem trying to attack us. One or two got close enough where using a rifle simply wasn't an option, so I used my rifle like a club. The feeling of crushing the head of a gecko with a couple of good whacks didn't affect me as much as I thought it would.
Once Sunny was happy that we had taken care of the problem, she gathered up a few of the bodies, asking if I could do the same, as she was going to skin them and keep the meat, keeping some for herself while trading the rest with the locals.
The sun was starting to go down as we headed back outside again, Sunny leading me on what appeared to be the road out of town. Coming to a stop at what looked like a major route, she pointed out a few things. "So over there in the distance is what used to be a prison run by the NCR. It's now run by a group calling themselves the Powder Gangers. If, or more likely when, you choose to leave, don't head north. No-one survives heading north. Head south. It's a bit of a walk, but there are towns to the south and then on the road leading east."
"How far is the nearest town south?"
"It'll take you half a day or so to get to Primm, if you don't run into any trouble."
"Thanks for the advice."
"I'm sure you'll be fine, but it pays to be wary."
We headed back to town and the saloon, where I found myself introduced to some of the local inhabitants, including the owner of the saloon, a woman named Trudy, having heard her name mentioned before. The jukebox continued to play in the background. The music was familiar, but I didn't remember it. Story of my life, it seems. I received one or two questions, but once everyone realised I had no memory of who I was, they told me what they knew of the world, which to be honest, wasn't a whole lot. I was left with the feeling the community was rather insular and kept to themselves. Probably safer that way. Who knows what I'm going to run into once I leave this town.
Despite not having much to talk about, I was polite enough to sit around and enjoy a glass or two of alcohol. I was surprised at the choice behind the bar, Trudy suggesting that one thing no-one had any trouble getting was alcohol, particularly for those who produced their own stock. I didn't know what I liked, having no memory, but whatever was being served suited me just fine.
Heading back to Mitchell's house, there still wasn't a cloud in the sky, though the moon was large and bright, actually providing enough light for me to wander in the darkness, managing to find my way without any major problems. The doc was still up when I walked inside, and he led me to a spare room. "Thought about what you're going to do?" he asked.
"I'm not sure. I'll see what tomorrow brings. But I guess there isn't any real point staying here too long. I need to know what I was involved in."
"I'll see if I can track down Victor for you tomorrow. He might know something, and if he can point you in the right direction, that will be even better."
"Thanks, doc."
"No problem. I'll see you in the morning."
Lying back on the bed, I certainly didn't bother with any blankets as it was far too hot for that. In fact, I got up and removed the jumpsuit, eventually lying back in just my underwear, and even then, I was still sweating. Upon closing my eyes, I found sleep difficult to come by, probably because I'd been asleep for at least a week, plus there was obviously a lot on my mind. But eventually exhaustion told, as being on my feet nearly all day in the heat was always bound to takes its toll. The last thought to cross my mind before eventually drifting off was…
Who the hell was I?
