Six bit down on his hand instantly, drawing blood. He barely flinched, instead moving his hand to her throat, squeezing it so tightly that she could barely breathe, much less scream. His other hand raised her confiscated pistol and pointed it ahead and to the left of her, straight at Boone. She froze.
"So this is what's going to happen," he whispered. "You're going to get up, very quietly, put your hands behind your back, and turn and face the wall. When I tap your shoulder, turn around, walk towards the north, and keep walking until I tell you to stop. No talking, no questions. I'd hate for you to make any noise that would awaken your NCR dog. He looks so peaceful when he's sleeping, doesn't he? The price on all your heads requires them to still be attached to your bodies, but I can't drag you both through the desert, so I'm afraid he'd have to go."
He must have heard the hitch in her breathing, because she felt him smirk against her ear. "Don't worry. I'm sure he'll come after you. In fact, I'm counting on it. That hero complex makes him so very predictable. Now stand up, with your hands where I can see them."
He jerked her to her feet, finally releasing her throat, and pushed her towards the canyon wall. Seeing no other choice, she put her hands behind her back, and he tied them tightly together with a length of thick rope. He roughly patted her down for weapons, finding two knives and the gun in her ankle holster. Missed the switchblade in my bra, though, fucker. When Inculta stepped away, she closed her eyes and held her breath, waiting for a gunshot. The only sound she heard was occasional rustling, and the sloshing of their water canteens. He must be raiding their supplies. A tap on her shoulder, followed by a hard shove, indicated that it was time for them to go. "By the way, if you try to run, I'll shoot out your kneecaps before coming back for him."
Six stumbled ahead of him, refusing to look back, afraid that one last glance at Boone would result in his death. She tried to feel a sense of triumph. Boone was safe, at least until he woke up and realized that she'd gone. Lily, Cass and Vero were on their way to the NCR. Raul … her heart hurt to think about Raul, but two hundred years was a long life, and it seemed like he'd lived it well. As for Arcade, she knew the first question she'd be asking the moment their forced march came to an end. They're safe. I won. And my grand prize is an agonizing death at Caesar's hands, followed by yet another unmarked grave. Go team me.
Six slowed her pace as soon as they got out of Boone's hearing range. She could hear Inculta right behind her, and he'd give her the occasional push or tap with the barrel of her gun if he thought she wasn't moving fast enough. She tried to remember everything she could about him. Head of the Frumentarii. Master spy. Tribal, born somewhere up in Utah. Dark hair, blue eyes, pale skin. Handsome enough if you didn't know exactly what you were looking at. Stupid dog head hat, notice he left that behind this time. Smartest guy in the Legion, except for the man himself, and even then it's a close call. Six wracked her brain for anything she could use against him, any gossip she'd heard from the NCR or on the Strip. He walked right up to me on the Strip to give me the Mark of Caesar, like it was the most natural place in the world for him to be. Likes: crucifixions, Caesar, Rippers, books (surprisingly), intellectual discussions (even more surprisingly.) Dislikes: Me, the NCR, anything remotely fun, me, the Burned Man, all of my friends, me. This is not looking promising.
How about stories? He was responsible for Nipton, which she'd never forget. She almost had to thank him for that. Caesar's honeyed words about the corruption and overreach of the NCR and his plans for a new society based on order and self-discipline might have struck a chord in her. But every time she looked at the cold blue eyes of the man standing next to Caesar and remembered his bored drawl as he gave her the Legion's message, the crucified and screaming residents of Nipton no more than background decoration to him, she was snapped back to Earth. No helping the Legion. Never.
What else, what else. Inculta was behind the irradiation of Camp Searchlight. Points for inventiveness, at least. She was about ninety percent sure he was also the mastermind of that damned electronic pulse that had taken out her Securitrons. That would be her second question when they stopped, she decided. In that case, he'd be the top man on her personal shit list, not that it really mattered in this instance.
Something else. Something darker. She focused on the memory of his voice, and suddenly it came back to her. As her veins turned to ice, she stopped in her tracks, earning a shove forward from her captor. After her visit to the Fort, but before Hoover Dam, she'd overheard a group of NCR troops talking about an incident. They'd found a ranger's body on a hill near Camp Guardian. She'd been missing since a Legion raid two months ago on a ranger station, but she'd only been dead a day or so. From the condition of her body, she'd suffered immensely before dying. From the recordings left at the base of the cross, nicely packaged and wrapped with a bow, there was no doubt that Vulpes Inculta had tortured her for information before finally slitting her throat. She hadn't heard anything more about the content of the recordings, thank God, but she had heard that the NCR had drastically reduced the presence of female rangers within striking distance of the Legion. And two months was way too long to torture someone just for information.
So. Spy, murderer, torturer, war criminal, probable sadist, probable rapist, definite asshole. Just another good ol' leader of Caesar's Legion. I should have joined up when I had the opportunity. What fun we could have had. Wonder if I'd be someone's personal slave by now, or just passed around the camp for kicks?
She was lost in her thoughts when she felt a hand fist in her hair, jerking her head backwards. "Stop walking," Inculta ordered. "Turn around."
They were in a small ravine, with plenty of shade from the shrubs and cacti growing higher up the walls. It was a perfect place to make camp for the day, or bury a body. Six took a deep breath, tried to wipe her expression of all emotion, and turned to face her fears.
The moment Six turned around, Vulpes Inculta backhanded her into the dirt, hard enough that she bit into her cheek. She struggled to as much of an upright position as she could with her hands bound behind her and glared at him, spitting out blood. So much for remaining emotionless.
"What the hell was that for?"
"Biting my hand back at the camp. And I'd advise you to watch your tongue. I am not a fan of cursing from profligates."
Wow, three whole sentences before he used the word "profligate." That must be a new Legion record. She seethed internally for a few moments, trying to regain her composure. "Can I speak now?"
"If you must," he drawled. "Keep your questions limited." She noticed that he was wearing regular merc armor, instead of anything that would identify him as Legion. Probably a smart idea for someone who'd been trailing her across half of the Wasteland. The Legion's gear was much better suited for battle than for stealth.
"Did you take Arcade?"
"Yes."
"Why? Is he alive? Is he okay?" she asked frantically.
Inculta chuckled. "Your concern for your friends is quite touching. Yes, the good Dr. Gannon is alive and well. There are high-ranking legionaries that require some specialized medical attention, and since most of the doctors of the Followers chose to die with their patients, our options were restricted. I would have preferred someone other than a deviant who has been working against us for years, but Caesar seems to have taken a shine to him. Of course, his status could change, depending on how well you behave."
Ah, using her friends' safety to ensure her compliance. Six was familiar with that tactic, and she remained silent, refusing to give him a reaction. Inculta pulled a blanket and some water bottles from his pack, spread out the blanket, and sat down. "And to anticipate your next question, I killed the ghoul too. You know our feelings on ghouls and mutants."
But slavery and rape are totally okay, right? Six bit back the snark that was on the tip of her tongue and stared straight ahead. He motioned for her to sit on the blanket, which she did, uncomfortably scooting over from where she had been lying on the ground. He held a bottle of water to her lips, and she allowed him to pour some into her mouth. Dehydration left little room for pride.
"Did you knock out all the electronics?" She knew it didn't matter at this point, but she had to know if her suspicions were correct.
"Good guess," Inculta said begrudgingly. "After the disaster at the Dam, I managed to convince Caesar that we should be integrating certain kinds of modern technology, rather than destroying it like a bunch of savages. Med-X and Stimpaks, for example, have drastically reduced our death rates. Why have legionaries dying from minor injuries that any dissolute with a handful of caps could recover from in a matter of hours? We liberated some Brotherhood of Steel technology from their bunker in the Mojave." Six tried not to flinch. Guess that plan wouldn't have gone so well after all. "And we found that. It took us a while to figure out exactly what it was meant to do, and how to operate it, but it certainly was effective, was it not?"
She looked off into the distance. He grabbed her jaw and turned her to face him. "When I ask you a question, profligate, I expect an answer."
"Yes, it was," she said quietly.
"Yes, what?" His grip tightened painfully. What did he want her to say? Oh, right. The Legion and their views on women.
She'd be damned if she would ever call any legionary "master", so he'd have to settle for less. "Yes, sir," she said, voice dripping with acid. He stared at her for a few moments, eyes burning into hers, before he released her. She went to rub her bruised jaw, only to remember that her hands were tied. He held up some more water to her mouth for her to drink. She considered spitting it back in his face, but she figured that such a small gesture of defiance probably wasn't worth whatever he would retaliate with. God, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.
They sat in silence for several minutes, Six looking up at the sky, trying to remember where all the constellations would be that night. Inculta was the one who broke the silence. "Were you surprised to see I was the one chasing you?"
"No. I mean, no, sir," she replied. "The crucifixions were a bit of a giveaway. Not exactly subtle."
"Duly noted." She stole a glance at him and saw he was almost smiling, leaning back on his elbows. "I shall take that into consideration for the future. More water?" She nodded and drank deep.
She had a sudden flashback to a document that she'd seen while scavenging an abandoned hotel for supplies. There had been a comment card, asking the guests to rate the hotel service on a scale of one to ten, with empty lines where they could suggest any improvements. She imagined handing one of those to Inculta. How satisfied have you been with the service during your kidnapping today? Do you have any suggestions as to how your captivity could be improved in the future? Thank you for choosing the Legion for your stay, please leave the card on the spike next to the severed head on your way to the cross. God, she was so tired. She couldn't help a slight giggle. He looked at her and his expression darkened.
"I fail to see the amusement in this situation," he hissed. "At least from your end. If it were up to me, I'd be finding plenty of amusement in you myself." And there it was again, the threat, prickling her skin and turning her blood cold. "Sadly, Caesar has demanded that you be brought to him as unharmed and … untouched as possible. Incidentally, I noticed you haven't asked any questions about your fate."
"I assumed that either you wouldn't tell me and would hold the uncertainty over my head, or you'd be unable to resist telling me in graphic detail to scare me, so there was no point in asking," she said, noticing his eyes narrow. "Sir." Okay, I may have just stepped over the line on this one. He clenched his jaw, but rather than hitting her, he sighed and tried to relax back onto the blanket, using his supply pack as a pillow.
"You are the most infuriating woman I have ever had the displeasure to meet, let alone drag across the desert like a petulant child," he groused. "Are you trying to piss me off on purpose? Hoping that I'll lose control and kill you quickly? I overheard your little argument with that sniper who follows you around like a lost puppy before you sent the women away. Throwing yourself on their knives, indeed."
Well, if we're putting everything out in the open now... Normally, she'd be more cautious with her words, but she was tired of playing games, and her head was swimming from exhaustion and hunger. Something in her snapped. "I bet that NCR ranger wished she would have done the same. Sir."
That did it. He pushed her onto her back, arms trapped painfully behind her. He was up on his knees now, glowering over her. "First off, you can stop calling me 'sir' until you can find a way to change the inflection to sound less like you're saying 'asshole' each time."
"Can I just say that instead?" she spat.
He smirked down at her. "Not in public, at least, although I'm sure you'll be calling me worse names in the near future." As if to emphasize his point, he moved to straddle her prone body and leaned forward, face inches from hers. She tried to scurry backwards, but he grabbed her leg and pulled her flat to the ground below him, trapping her legs between his. "Just Vulpes will do for now, if you will. And your name is? I feel that formal introductions are appropriate at this point."
"Six," she breathed.
He rolled his eyes. "That's not a name, it's a number." He pulled a very nasty-looking combat knife from his belt and examined the edge in the moonlight. "Want to give me an honest answer?"
"I don't remember my name," she gasped, panic rising to the surface. "I don't remember much from before I was shot. The paper said I was Courier Six, so that's what I am."
Seemingly satisfied, he leaned back on his knees, still straddling her with the knife. She would have given anything, anything to see Boone's shadow in the distance, lining up a shot. She didn't even care who it was aimed at. His voice brought her snapping back to reality. "But I digress. So you know about the NCR bitch, hmm? I see my reputation precedes me. Good. That will save us some time. How did you hear about the ranger?" he asked conversationally.
She was finding it increasingly hard to breathe, with her hands digging into her back and Vulpes far too close to her for comfort. She took in several ragged gasps before he slid the knife to her throat. "Remember what I said about answering questions?"
"I overheard some gossip," she whispered, afraid to cut her own throat by moving her head.
"And what exactly did you hear?" he asked, voice no longer cool and disinterested, now dripping with fire and venom and something else that she didn't care to focus on. Six regretted bringing up this topic. Things had escalated way too quickly. She had figured that mentioning his past misdeeds would make him angry, violent, maybe even embarrassed. From the hardness digging into her thigh, it would seem to have had the opposite effect.
She must have taken too long to answer his question. This time, the knife sliced into the skin of her throat, spilling crimson trails down her neck and collarbone, dripping blood onto the ground beneath them. Six hissed in pain and writhed beneath Vulpes, desperate to get away from the blade. He moaned and ground his hips into hers. After a moment, he pulled the knife away from her neck, replacing it with his lips. He sucked at the cut for a moment before moving his mouth to the junction of her neck and shoulder and biting down hard, hard enough to rip through the flesh and spill more blood. Six bit back a scream at the last second, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. It would leave a scar, and she distantly wondered if she'd need a rabies shot. Maybe she could ask Arcade, if she ever saw him again. Everything was getting fuzzy.
Vulpes pulled his bloody mouth from her neck and she gasped for air. "Focus," he intoned, although she wasn't sure if he was talking to her or to himself. Better to play it safe.
"I didn't hear any details," she said, looking over his shoulder, anywhere but at his smug expression. "Just that she was tortured, for months, and then killed, and that you left recordings. And that's why they kept female rangers away from your territory."
"Did you hear the recordings?" He rested his face against hers, an obscene parody of an embrace. She shivered, and felt his cock stiffen further against her.
"No." Her vision was blurring. She couldn't have lost that much blood, could she?
"Do you want to know the details?" She could feel him smirk against her cheek.
"No." They were probably worse than the ones she was imagining, and that was saying a lot. She tried to pull herself together. "Please don't ..." Her train of thought drifted off again.
He finally sat back on his knees, wiping her blood from his mouth. "Feeling a little sleepy?" he smiled. "How about something to drink?"The pieces in her scattered mind clicked together.
"You drugged my water," she breathed.
"Well, yours, and that sniper mongrel's too. Just a little Med-X to keep him off of our backs and to keep you manageable. Life is so much easier now that we can use a few chems here and there. We have a caravan coming down that road to pick us up in a couple of hours, and it just wouldn't do for you to get any stupid ideas like jumping to your death into a canyon or trying to push me into a nest of radscorpions." She felt him lift himself off her and begin tying her feet together. She tried to struggle, but her bones were made of gelatin. "I've got to get Caesar's prize trophy to the Strip in one piece. I'd advise you to stop fighting it and get some rest. It might be the last nap you ever have."
She laughed harshly. "What makes you think that I'm going to want to close my eyes for a second around you?"
He was fading in and out, disappearing from her vision, but his voice was as clear as ever. "Darling Six, you're safe in your sleep. When I hurt you, I assure you that you'll be awake for every second."
He glanced over at the bound body of the infamous Courier, finally knocked unconscious from the drugs, and wiped the remaining blood from his face. He lit the signal fire and sat back down on the blanket to wait for the caravan.
Well. That had been satisfying.
Caesar wouldn't be too happy about the bite mark, but after chasing her and her irritating friends through the desert for weeks, he figured he deserved to leave at least a few scars. He should have taken care of her personally back at the Lucky 38, but he had been so focused on overseeing the destruction of the profligate nest of Gomorrah that he'd decided to send that moron Scorpius instead. Scorpius had managed to get himself and his men killed without inflicting a single casualty, and the Courier had escaped into the desert with her merry band of misfits.
After receiving that disappointing news, Caesar had ordered Vulpes to track down and take care of the Courier himself. He had initially seen it as a punishment, and he had even felt resentful at being given such an insignificant mission. After all, wasn't it his work that took down the Securitrons and made their great victory possible? But after a few days, he had to admit that his Lord knew him better than he knew himself. Some time alone, with a singular purpose, had been just what he needed to clear his head after taking the Strip. And the Courier was simply too dangerous to be allowed to escape. That would be just what they needed. The hero of Vegas, out there scheming and allying tribes to thwart their plans, just like she had at the Dam.
His prey had been amusing enough to toy with. He'd savored the look on her face after Goodsprings, when she'd realized exactly what she was dealing with and what the stakes were. How desperate she was as they approached the NCR border, trying to shed her friends before they met the same fate as that abhorrent ghoul. How she didn't break even after she was captured, how she threw the incident with the girl from the NCR in his face when she should rightly have been frightened to death. He'd managed to scare her at the end, though. The terror in her eyes right before she passed out was something he'd be replaying in his fantasies for quite a long time.
Speaking of … Vulpes looked over at her. Six – ridiculous name, really – was an attractive woman, a fact that he could appreciate now that she wasn't spitting venom at him with every word. Auburn hair tied back in a bun, dark green eyes, fair skin, more padding to her breasts and hips than the average starving Wastelander. It was unfortunate that she hadn't joined them when Caesar had extended his generous offer; she would have been a formidable ally, and a desirable slave after they had taken the Dam. Vulpes felt himself harden slightly at the thought. He wouldn't touch her, though. He'd given her his word, and raping unconscious women held no allure for him.
It wasn't nearly as fun if he couldn't hear them scream.
