Chapter 3: Trauma

Her name was Scarlett Holmes, and she was a vault survivor, which he could have guessed now being able to see her blue and yellow jumpsuit. Vault 45 to be exact, but she wasn't sure where exactly it was located, nor was her Pipboy able to disclose the location being so far away from it; some place off to the West was all she knew.

"Hunter," Dave whispered, "there is still the issue of her choice in jewelry, or have you forgotten?"

He hadn't, but there wasn't much of anything he could do since he didn't find a key on any of the slavers. Ignoring Dave, he tossed Scarlett a high necked jacket one of the slavers had on and made a tattered scarf out of some of the discarded cloths.

"This should cover your collar, until we can get to someone to take it off." Hunter picked up his duffel, now heavier with the added assault rifle sticking out the top.

"Thank you again, both of you." She gave a smile to each, either ignoring that one of them had bound hands and covered in blood, some not his own; or just hadn't even noticed it yet. "How did you know that detonator wasn't to my collar? I mean, you did know after all right?" she asked Crankshaft.

"Of course I did," he smiled at her and shook his head with a shrug when Hunter locked eyes with him.

Hunter just rolled his eyes, figuring it was probably better to not bring up the fact she nearly lost her head. Having taken the second to last of his Stimpaks, he was starting to get thirsty, which was side effect he would take over possible death. The shrapnel was still going to need to be extracted, but at least the bleeding had stopped and healing was starting on his other bruises. "Wish I had another dose of Med-X to spare" he sighed knowing he couldn't do anything to help curb the pain from the multiple wounds and bruises. With only one dose left and no telling when he might need it, best to save it.

Before they set out, Crankshaft moved in close, "Are you sure we should bring her along? Only going to end with all of us dead."

"She's dead if we don't, I mean look at her." She did look lost and confused at to the whole situation she found herself in. He doubted she would last long in the wastes if they sent her off, plus the whole explosive collar thing.

"Once you collect the bounty, you are going to have to hurry out, Hunter," his voice got real serious, "After Lucky learns of who you killed and Markov catches word that you killed his men. Both those fuckers are going to be out for blood."

Hunter just stared at him, "Who he'd killed? Tex? Why would Lucky care about Tex? Sure he was a regular at the Casino, but it was open to a lot of raiders who didn't kill natives."

"Oh fuck, you have no idea do you?" He laughed, "Tex was her favorite play toy, the accent and all probably. You are so dead, guess I'll see you on the other side."

"Why do you do that? Make them all out to be killers and blood thirsty, she's reasonable and she'll understand." Hunter wasn't sure of his own words of her understanding, but he was right that not all natives were bloodthirsty; just scared and trying to survive like the rest of the frozen Wasteland.

"Have you forgot what they did? Who died?" The bitterness in his words told Hunter all he needed to know, that it was a conversation he didn't want to have.

Scarlett was confused on why they were arguing, but started to walk with them once Hunter decide it was time to go. Crankshaft walked in front of him, and Scarlett trailed along just behind him. He made sure she was pulling her own share, with a pack loaded of recovered gear and by giving her the plated leather to wear under her jacket, along with the 10mm pistol the slaver used against him. Not much was said as they walked along, Crankshaft looked back a couple times and Scarlett gave a few noises as she struggled to carry the pack; Hunter, he was thinking.

He was thinking on what was said, he hadn't forgotten who died. They were both at one of the deciding battles of the war. It was true that a few native tribes got together and made an attempt to kill or at least scare off all non-native settlers. The Enforcers were just as guilty of killing natives, usually with little to no evidence if something happened near their protected settlements. Hunter never took part in any attacking, he only defended settlements or reinforced outposts and checkpoints. Dave had, he took part in the counterattack the Enforcers launched that ended with massive causalities on both sides and the signing of the ceasefire that ended the war.

"It was eight years ago, Dave, the war is over."

Dave spun around getting up in Hunter's face, "It's not over for me! It will never be over until either they all lay dead or I do." His eye started to twitch, "You fucking coward," with a powerful thrust he pushed Hunter to the ground, "why do you protect those savages? Why do you turn your back on your own people?"

"My people? Who, you? Killing and raiding farms with women and children?" Hunter side kicked Dave's legs causing him to also fall to the ground. "I signed up to protect people from being treated like that!"

"I do what I have to do! By taking out the farms, I take out their supplies, causing them to turn on themselves! It's for the greater good, why can't you see that?" Dave used his bound hands to toss dirt into Hunter's eyes.

He was able to use his left hand to block the dirt, but Dave got a grip on the pipe rifle. It was a struggle, but Hunter got a good kick on Dave's hurt shoulder then drew up the gun to face him.

"I see a wild murderer that needs to be brought to justice for the crimes he has committed on innocent people, and that's what I am going to do. I see my friend is dead and a fiend is left in his place." Hunter motioned for him to get up.

Crankshaft sat on the ground, hands to his shoulder, "Bringing me to Slavers, raiders and chem dealers for justice huh, wow how noble of you." He spat on Hunter's boots and got to his feet, "I'm sure he would be real proud of your moral compass."

Scarlett started after him and gave Hunter a very confused and scared glance as she passed. She was gripping the pistol if ready to use it at any second. He couldn't blame her, seeing the people you thought had rescued you from being enslaved, only to find out they are a bunch of psychos ready to burst. Yeah, real knights they were.

"Stop," it came out as a whisper from his dry mouth, "Dave, stop...please." Hunter was about ten feet back from him. "Well head by The Market first, hit up Moon's trading post and figure something out."

Dave didn't say anything to Hunter, instead he turned to Scarlett, "That thing can pick up the radio right?"

"My Pipboy, uh yeah, sure." She brought up her Pipboy and looked it over, then started flipping through the stations. It wasn't long till she found one with music, 99.1 Red Lake Classics with the one and only...Jackpot Hammer, the only ghoul radio host in the Midwest. "Why does his voice sound so rough?"

Hunter had caught up, "He's a ghoul, non feral one at least." The look on her face told him that she had no idea what a ghoul was, nor that there was feral and non feral. "Ghouls are people exposed to too much radiation and didn't die, some are even old enough that they are pre-war. Red Lake is supposedly full of pre-war ghouls."

"His voice is at least better, than listening to your ass." Dave started to hum along to the Bing Crosby song as he walked away.

Nothing was said for the next five minutes as the group arrived at The Market, a central hub of vendors of various wares, equipment and sadly, humans. It was difficult to say what exactly The Market was in pre-war times, a construction company or equipment dealer perhaps; with all the construction equipment nearby it seemed like a safe bet to be one. Most of the old metal giants had been painstakingly moved to create a wall around the casino, not that big of a deal when you have a yard full of slaves to do all the hard labor. A few white and green dump-trucks, a rust spotted yellow bucket-less loader and a couple flat bed trailers flipped on their side remained. A rusty fence with sections, every so often, missing or damaged over the years encircled three intact buildings. The center one looked like an old single floor office building or something, Hunter had never been inside it so difficult to tell. The other two were equipment buildings. the larger one next to the office building, was in better shape and also housed most of the vendors. The smaller one on the west side housed the slave pens and was watched over by a patched together guard tower.

Across the old road from the compound, and their destination, was an old brown fuel station with a sign by the pumps; "Always 24 Self Service For You!", in smaller print was something about a $25 charge if caught littering. Hunter found it amusing and wondered what the charge would be for this mess. It wasn't in bad condition, but it had seen abuse over the years with windows shattered and missing ceiling tiles. It was run by a native man named Moon, and his son, Allan. Both of them seem like they could fix anything you brought in.

Once inside, Hunter heard the tings of hammer hitting metal in the back and Moon wiping down the counter. A man sat near a repaired table, dressed as a postal worker and eating some Fancy Lad Cakes. 99.1 played on the radio near Moon, echoing the music playing from Scarlett's Pipboy.

"My dear, do you mind turning that off, hard enough to hear the music already." Moon gave a smile as she clicked the station off. "Well the duo returns together again, probably for the last time I assume."

Dave sat on an empty chair near a rack of burnt comics, didn't say anything just a low grunt .

"Sure, umm, we need your help with removing a..." Hunter wasn't sure if he could trust the postman, "specialty collar." He gave a couple nods at Scarlett with his head.

Moon gave the black woman a look over, "I wouldn't be worried about that," returning his expression toward Hunter, "but those bullets in your gut and your friends shoulder, might need more attention." "Allan, special project coming back." He yelled over his shoulder.

Hunter looked at Dave turning the rack in hopes maybe something readable would appear. "You coming?"

"Just going to be dead here soon, whats the point bounty hunter?" Picking up one of the more intact comics and started going through it. "Don't worry, I'll be here when you get back. It's certain death for me out there."

Hunter wasn't satisfied with the answer, but it was logical. He headed through the door behind the counter, into a tight break room turned bedroom and finally the workshop. There was a partially disassembled Eyebot on the workbench. To his surprise Allan had already removed a section of the collar and was searching his tool belt for something.

"You have done this before right?" Scarlett looked nervous as Allan was tugging a few wires.

"Well, never taken one off, but yeah I've worked on the locks a lot. Really hardy mechanism really, it's the thin explosive trigger that you need to be gentle with." He tugged a couple times hard enough to shake her head back and forth.

"Never knew a lock that could give you trouble." Hunter chuckled as he examined the Eyebot behind the mechanic.

"Oh the locks off already," he pointed to the piece beside him on the tool tray, "just trying to get this damn trigger loose so we can unhinge it without blowing up."

Hunter turned slowly and was sure Scarlett had gone white as a ghost, even with her dark complexion. He tried to scoot a little bit closer toward the break room door since the main garage door was close. "Fuck this..." He made a slight jerk when he heard a click sound.

"Alright, well that was easy." Allan opened the collar and put it on a shelf of the workshop bench under the Eyebot. "Anything else I can do? Otherwise I really need to finish soldering these wires."

Hunter opened his jacket and pulled it away on the one side to expose the shrapnel wounds. "Don't suppose you have some doctor skills hidden in here?"

"Not so much, but I do have this pretty powerful magnet. I think it will probably pull those right out, might need some Med-X or something stronger; that and a couple Stimpaks should patch you up for travel in a day or two." Allan wiped his hands on a dirty rag and then moved over to dig out the magnet. "Probably want your jacket fixed up too, hmm probably could ask dad do a bundle discount."

Hunter wasn't sure if Allan was talking with him or not, "What was he going to do with Dave if he was laid up for a couple days, not to mention he only had one Med-X left" He guessed it wasn't a huge problem since he did plan on getting more medical supplies anyway. Still, what as he going to do with Dave? "If I hand him over to Lucky then none of this will be a problem, but what if he is right? Lucky was going to killing him. No, she isn't just going to killing him, but torture and then kill him. I would just be a murderer." Hunter thought over this internal discussion. "No, he does deserve justice for his crimes, but not that type."

"I have to get some things first then," Hunter put his self back together and headed back into the main store. Two more men and a child were in there trying to make a deal with Moon about something. Some radio show was playing on the radio, with the child ensnared to every word coming out. Hunter really didn't pay much attention. Just looked at Dave sitting there, "Either he's given up and accepted, nah that was Dave. He's brooding something or waiting, maybe for his men to come in and shoot up the place." With a sigh, "Dave 'Crankshaft' Schellman, I'm bringing you in for justice against..."

The young child gave him a ssshhh as the radio show played;

...*a sound played over the radio as if a gun firing*...Come on out Crankshaft, I'm bringing you in...*another set of gun fire noises went off*...You'll have to fight your way in Marshal!...Have it your way outlaw!...*an attempt to sound like feet running came on, followed by the fake shooting.*...Damn, you got me in the arm, I yield! I yield!...I told you there was a new man in town, Marshal Hunts, and criminals like you are going to meet justice...*it sounded like clapping after he finished that last line*...That concludes today's episode of 'The Marshal', tune in next time for more thrilling adventures!

Jackpot said in his raspy ghoul voice, "Wow, that Marshal Hunts sounds like a real swell guy. Bringing raiders to justice, we need more men like that. I think this song is fitting and goes out to the real lawman out there." The song that started playing was Big Iron by Marty Robbins, one of Hunter's favorites.

The kid turned to his father, "Wow Pa, do you really think the Marshal is out there fighting crime?"

His father looked over and finally noticed Dave and Hunter, he mouth opened in surprise and a strange smile slowly appeared, "You're Dave Schellman and Hunter Tobin...its you isn't it?" He slapped his friend across the chest with his backhand. "And you didn't want to come in today Randy, heroes we would have missed!"

Unlike the father, his friend wasn't overly excited, "Heroes, that there is the leader of the Wreckers, Crankshaft...nothing he does is what I would call heroic." He spit on the floor, "As for you boy, I know what you did and I'm thankful. Saved my life and Henry's."

Scarlett spoke up, "Heroes, what did they do?"

Hunter didn't know how long she had been standing there, "Nothing I would call heroic."

The boy's father, Henry, spoke up and told the whole story. The attack on the Deer Lake settlement, and how Hunter and Dave's squad had held off over fifty men until help arrived. They gave the settlers time to clear out, otherwise they would have been overrun and killed.

Dave finally spoke, "Was more like eighty, just kept coming like waves. Never thought I would ever run out of bullets." A smile of satisfaction and reminiscing stayed on his face.

Randy frowned, "Never could wipe that bloodlust off your hands could you?"

"Wasn't worth it, lost a lot of good men." Hunter leaned against the wall, needing the support to keep him up.

"Wasn't worth it? You saved families, hell my son wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for what you guys did!" Henry choked out, before bringing his son in closer, "I understand you lived the fight and saw the death, but I thank you for his sake and my own."

It was hard for Hunter to make eye contact. There was ten of them holding the checkpoint, only two of them made it out alive. It was also the beginning of the end for him, shortly after the ceasefire, he left the Enforcers. Been traveling alone ever since, trying to do good deeds and collect on outlaws. "Seems more like a lie now, seeing who I was working for."

"Bounty hunter, sure are taking your time to collect." A set of three men dressed in red and black coats, covering some sturdy leather armor under it, were in the street looking toward the station. The lead had a 10mm pistol, the one on his left had a heavily modified pipe rifle and the other a double barrel shotgun. "How bout we just take him from you, save you the trouble. I'm sure we could split the reward money." The chuckles from the other men raised extreme doubt in that promise.

Hunter pulled out his revolver, flipped the cylinder out giving it a spin to make sure it was full, then snapped it back closed. Swinging the rifle off his back, he looked behind toward Moon and the other patrons. "I'll take it outside Moon," glancing over to the other three, "you guys might want to get down, just in case." Walking toward the door, Dave tapped his wrist, and looked up with an unreadable serious face.

"Not going to win with your side like that," He tapped Hunter's wound and nodded slowly when he saw the wince. "it's not your fight anymore, I'll go."

Scarlett tried to take the assault rifle out of the duffel, but the magazine kept getting stuck on the tie string. She gave a curse, fighting to get it free, "I can help, just tell me what to do."

Hunter took out his last dose of Med-X and plunged it into his leg once again, "Nope, said I was going to bring you to justice and Lucky isn't justice."

Moon spoke up before Hunter was out the door, "Why do you take that stuff Hunter?"

"Get's me back in the fight"

Moon's face was grim, "Does it ever change the outcome?"

Hunter took a deep breath, "I'm still here aren't I?" With that he stepped out the door heading toward the trio, stopping to put Vista up against the backside of one of the pumps. "I'm not taking him to Lucky, why don't you head off and tell her to back off." He knew they wouldn't, but worth a shot.

The leader of the group snorted, "Guess we'll just take him ourselves then." He pulled up on Hunter and fired his hair-trigger 10mm. It gave him twice the number of rounds than the revolver.

Hunter was already falling toward the pump before the shots went out. He only got a couple shots off before hitting the ground, but one of them did graze the leader's thigh. Shots slammed into the rusting pump as Hunter peaked out taking another two shots while the leader scrambled for cover shooting wildly. The revolver rounds struck the leather, one of them finding a weak spot and penetrating flesh. A couple pellets from the shotgun struck his jacket and face, it didn't penetrate either but stun. Hunter shot twice more in his direction not aiming that well as rounds clanged off metal. The short barrel and distance away prevent the spread from staying tight enough to do any real damage; however, the automatic pipe rifle was able to light up the pump with devastating effect. The metal started to cave under the abuse and a few rounds got through, hitting the plates in his jacket and piercing his flesh next to the shrapnel wounds.

The shotgun man was closing the gap, but he could only fire two shots at a time before needing to reload. Hunter picked up his own rifle and drilled a shot right through his armor and into his chest. The man dropped to his knees, then settling on his face, coughed a few spurts of blood before dying. Unlike the shotgun, the last attacker could reload the magazines faster before unleashing another wave of bullets against the tore up pump. Hunter sprinted out from behind and headed toward a support pillar of the over hang. If it wasn't for the intense recoil of the pipe rifle, Hunter would have taken more hits; not that he made it unscaved to cover. A bullet had struck a plate and shattered like before, sending more shrapnel throughout his jacket and arm this time. His legs being only protected by heavy jeans, meant nothing stopped two other rounds grazed his right thigh and calf. It was only considered a graze since they hit the surface flesh and left gashes; but the gashes were about a half inch deep.

"Fuck, can't run now." Hunter clenched his teeth hard, glad the painkiller was flowing through his veins or the pain might have been crippling in his already fragile state.

Pulling up he fired a shot with the rifle, but his injured arm made it difficult. It took another shot before he made a connection, but it wasn't a death dealing hit. His attacker's left elbow did blow apart into a spray of flesh, bone and blood coming from his jacket. Still holding onto the trigger of the automatic pipe rifle, he ended up shooting himself in the foot losing control of the weapon. Hollering out in pain the man dropped, letting go of his weapon to grab onto his wounded arm. Hunter noticed the attacker's left hand made tremor jerky movements, wondering if it was involuntary or not.

"Don't make me kill you, just run off and tell Lucky it's over." Hunter emptied the revolver of the spent rounds. The hit on his legs was slowly pooling out blood that soaked his pants, which to him meant no artery was hit. The additional shrapnel wounds also bleed slowly, compared to the spewing stream from the attacker's semi-disconnected elbow. "If amputated and treated quickly, he could survive..." Hunter was trying to justify not killing the man, "but maybe a bullet would be a mercy killing? What do I do, let him control his fate or make the choice? Would it be the right choice to let him die or kill him?" Out of frustration he slammed his head against the pillar.

The body of the tower officer was crashing on top of him, quickly rolling him off, Hunter fired two more rounds at the woman. A round shattered as it struck her chest plate and the other hit her shoulder. They glared at each other for what seemed forever, until the hellfire they were living in came crashing back. An explosion went off behind the woman, killing her fellow warriors advancing up. Hunter might have jerked, but she held firm in her posture.

The sound of the restored armored vehicle of the Enforcers firing another round from it's main cannon, caused Hunter to look back for a second. When he turned back, the woman was gone, leaving only his rifle and marks of blood where she once was. A tug on his body and the sound of muffled speech was met with a disoriented look as he tried to focus on Dave's face.

"Damn it Hunter, get up! We need to move." Trying to stay low to avoid the gunfire, he again tugged on Hunter. A bullet struck the ground next to him, sending snow and dirt onto his face. Hunter reached out for the other body, as if his touch could bring the officer back to life. Dave only kicked at his hand and half drug him behind the sandbags.

"Pike's dead! You're not, so fucking stick with me alright? You're all I have left damn it." Dave pressed a roll of gauze into his chest wound with one hand and cradled him in close with the other.

Hunter had never seen him cry, but the tears dripped onto face...

Opening his eyes again, he saw the crippled attacker was gone, leaving only his weapon and a bloody mess of body materials. Something jerked him onto his back, he reached out trying to grab the pillar and stop himself. Once on his back, he could see Scarlett and Dave, free from his binds, over top of him trying to get his jacket off and attend to his wounds. Even with the Med-X in his body, there was a lot of pain, not so much from the wounds but from reliving that terrible nightmare over again. It was why he took the drugs, maybe he could do something different, maybe he missed something that would make things alright, maybe...maybe, Dave was right. Maybe he had forgotten what Pike meant with those words; Justice, Integrity and Service.

"He's dead Dave, I've failed him again and again." Hunter stared off into the clouds, listening to them work on his beaten body, trying to keep the life in, that he was debating about just letting it flow out.

"I know, me too." Dave didn't make eye contact, just kept trying to stop the blood using whatever he could find on Hunter. There was only two small bandage rolls and a Stimpak left, along with the dose of psycho from the Wrecker's compound.

Hunter noticed Dave had tossed the medical supplies to Scarlett, who had been using rags from the shop. Then he watched him get up, and start walking toward the abandoned pipe rifle; before he scooped it up, the spent psycho syringe chimed against the aging concrete.

"Dave, what are you doing?" Hunter groaned as he tried to lift his body up to stop him. It was too late though, Dave was gone.

Crankshaft looked over the weapon and then walked over toward the man with the 10mm pistol. His face was twisted with smile and tweaks. Searching the dead man, he squeezed the pistol between his belt and pants, pocketed a couple magazines and pulled up a jackpot surprise; another dose of psycho.

Hunter couldn't hear him say it, but he knew the words, party time, had come out. Trying to draw his revolver and fight off Scarlett's objections at the same time, was difficult. She called out to Dave to stop it, but he wouldn't listen to anything she said. He watched as Crankshaft took another hit and tossed the spent dose away. If anything of Dave had remained, it was just washed away. Hunter knew all that Crankshaft was going to see was red, and in a place were the majority were Natives; it was about to be a blood bath.

He couldn't let that happen, pulling up the revolver he squeezed the trigger; click. There wasn't a live round left in it, never reloaded it after emptying it. Hearing the shots ring out as Crankshaft went on his murdering spree, gunning down what looked like two more of Lucky's men. There was no time to reload and fumble with the rounds in his state. He rolled onto his stomach toward the rifle, once in hand he pulled up prone style; trying to level the bouncing cross on his target. The rifle jerked back as the round went out and missed. "Breathe, just breathe." Hunter took two deep breaths, lined up his shot again and saw a flash in the scope. Crankshaft, Dave, his friend was dead.

It wasn't his shot that killed him, no he never got off a shot. His friend was vaporized by a laser pistol, in the hands of the Postman. The Eyebot floating next to him as he holstered his weapon and walked over toward Hunter. "Heard you mention something about Justice earlier, Marshal. Well I might not be a judge, but I am a member of the government and we punish criminals." He looked over at the crowd forming, "I have a message for you, marked for your eyes only." He reached into his bag and tossed a Holotape onto Hunters chest, then started to head off.

"Who are you? What government?" Hunter got to a sitting position, holding the Holotape in his bloody hand.

The Postman looked back, "The American government, and for me, I'm just a Postman." The Eyebot bounced up and down ahead of him unaware he had stopped. "Might want to get off the street Marshal," with that he walked off yelling one final message, "Happy trails cowboy."

Scarlett picked up the tape and played it in her Pipboy,

"Lieutenant Brandon Ryan, 71st North Guard Infantry Division, congratulations Hunter Tobin for accepting our offer, of joining the Northland Marshals. Our first attempt at a semi-autonomous law enforcement agency. As I'm sure Operative Vince has explained the situation, you will receive assignments from him or one of our secure Eyebots.

Looking forward to hearing about *static* that will come from this effort. Proceed to the *static* location and await further orders.

God bless America, *static* bless the Encl-*static cut it off and the message ended.*"

"What was that all about?" Scarlett asked trying to help Hunter get toward the gas station.

Hunter hated using Vista as a crutch, but until Moon was able to help Scarlett support him, he had little choice. He didn't say much, partially due to the fact the painkiller was wearing off and the other being he wasn't sure what to make of it. "God bless," Hunter thought hard, "haven't heard those words since dad...he knew what was right and wrong, maybe this Brandon and Postman fellows do too. Couldn't get any worse than this."

"Happy trails." Hunter chuckled out, "Maybe, someday..."