CHAPTER TWO: THERE'S A MOON OUT TONIGHT
Ash grimaced and hissed as the doctor peeled back her pant leg. She glanced down and immediately regretted it; the blood probably wasn't supposed to be that color. She tilted her head back and let the sky blind her a little. Anything beat looking at that mess down there.
"Well it's not the worst I've ever seen, but it sure ain't pretty," said the doctor, prodding at the wounds none too gently. Her bodyguards were looking elsewhere. Anywhere. Ash didn't blame them. "I can fix it up." A slight pause. "As long as you have the caps."
"Yeah, yeah, plenty, just do it already." The stool she was sitting on was already making her ass fall asleep. At least it was a distraction from the deep throbbing in her leg. "I'll even pay extra for meds. More the better."
"Oh, well, in that case… Uh, let me go find my things. I'll be right back. You stay put now." She stood and scurried off somewhere. The two bodyguards watched her go and then turned to Ash, sharing a mixed look of worry and pity. The doctor came back shortly, a large brown bag in her arms, miscellaneous medical tools sticking out from the top. The lot of it didn't look particularly clean. The bodyguards looked away again.
"This shouldn't take too long. I mean, it's only some dog bites. Not like I'm doing brain surgery here!" She laughed. Ash smiled weakly. "We should get you leaned back on something so you're more comfortable. Gotta prop your leg up, too. Boys, help me out here, will you? I'm not paying you for nothing."
The younger of the two muttered something under his breath but the doctor didn't notice. Ash leaned on them while she repositioned herself, back against the large countertop in the cloth tent. She said her thanks and they nodded to her. Within a few minutes, the drugs were working their way through her system. The quick jab of a needle in her thigh had come as a jolting surprise, but that was for the best; shots had never been her favorite thing in the world. She leaned her head back and admired the view of the fabric above her, the sunlight mottled overhead, patchy clouds hidden by the worn tan cloth. Guess they all couldn't be like Doc Mitchell.
The thin crescent moon was at its peak in the sky and tonight's watch was well on its way to being another mind-numbing one. Not that he was wishing for a crew of Vipers to show up and try to raid the place. He'd give for a Legionary or two to wander by. Not that they ever traveled in so small a number.
Movement caught in the corner of Boone's eye and he peered over the dinosaur's teeth. The visitor was walking down the road. Still limping, but not as bad. Bandages on her arm and leg looked different. She went straight for the McBride house. Had she talked to them about their nighttime troubles? Must've. No other reason to go there at this hour. He had heard gunfire there around midnight a few times but had never seen anything, even on the clearest nights. They hadn't bothered to ask him about it anyway. Their problem.
He lost sight of her in the dark – it was hazy out tonight – but soon heard gentle clanging in that direction. Climbing on their roof? He listened closely but nothing was going on, so he turned his attention back to the wastes. Nothing was going on out there either. His mind drifted elsewhere, to his service, to the ridge, and of course to her, and just as his thoughts began to get dangerous, the sharp crack of a rifle jolted him to reality once more, where for once, something more than nothing was happening.
Another shot, from the same spot, the McBride house. He raised his rifle up and looked through the scope but could only make out shapes moving in the dark. The startled brahmin. The visitor's form crouched up on the roof. And something big and hulking that he was damn sure he would've noticed before but there it was, hunched over and clearly not keen on being shot at. He could take a shot – hard to miss something that size – but in the time he took to consider it, a few more shots rang out, this time from a pistol. Magnum. She must've hit it hard because whatever it was fell to the ground. He kept his sights on her long enough to watch her slide down from the rooftop, not exactly landing with the most grace, but more steadily than most would be able to manage, even without a bum leg. Their shadowy forms melded together for a minute. Searching the body. He lowered his rifle when she stood.
She was walking to the gate when she came into view again, reloading her revolver, then easing it back into the holster at her hip. She might've looked up at him in the dinosaur, or at the moon, he couldn't tell. In the light of Jeannie May's office, she pulled a slip of paper from her pocket, unfolded it, and read. Either it was long or illegible or she was a slow reader. She crumpled it and stuffed it back in her pocket, then pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. It was late, but he could understand why she hadn't gone straight back to her room. Maybe a couple others would know, too – Manny, Ranger Andy – but most people here never had to deal with that rush of adrenaline you'd get after a kill.
He watched the wastes again while she smoked. Still nothing. He wasn't exhausted, but not energized either, hadn't been for a long time. The cold night air kept him alert, at least. And with the late watch he never had to interact with anybody. Didn't care much for anybody around here. She was somehow interesting, though. Maybe because he didn't know a thing about her, or because she hadn't bothered him yet, and he appreciated that. Or because she killed Legionaries. That took at least an ounce of courage, or stupidity, or a mix. Plenty talked about how bad Caesar was but someone actually taking a stand, especially without orders to do so, that was rare.
She dropped the cigarette onto the ground and stamped it out with her heel. She looked up like she had before, and this time he was sure she was looking at him. Her head cocked a little, but she didn't linger, and through the gate she went, out of sight.