Chapter 3

The village was small, a dozen homesteads, spread out, medium sized homes and shacks twinned with fields for grazing livestock and crops. A couple figures were standing watch. Ramirez and McBain caught their attention as they walked down the hill into the valley. McBain and Ramirez made sure to keep their hands visible and posture non threatening. McBain had his rifle slung over his back but Ramirez was still unarmed. Ramirez didn't like that, it left him in a position of weakness, not just towards his partner, but towards the wasteland. He knew McBain didn't trust him and McBain wasn't pretending to act otherwise.

"So, how are we getting ourselves these Brahmin?" Ramirez asked.

"Make them an offer." McBain said.

"What if they refuse?"

"Then I make them a different offer. Every man has his price."

"How many caps do you have on you?"

"A few hundred."

"That won't buy us a Brahmin, amigo."

"We'll see."

"Howdy!" One of the guards shouted as they approached the outskirts of the village. Both guards converged on them, eyes alert, their hands on their Varmint Rifles.

"What's the purpose of your visit to Sandstone?"

"We're making a prospecting trip. We have a bit of a lead, we were hoping to buy a Brahmin." McBain said.

The guards looked at them for a few moments, sizing them up.

"Now, why would we sell any of our Brahmin?" The first guard asked. The two stood dozens of feet apart, making them a harder target for anyone rash enough to attack them. They kept their rifles readied at waist level, holding them with casual confidence.

"Share the wealth." McBain cracked dryly.

"Commie pandejo." Ramirez whispered.

"Your ghoul friend has got the right idea." The first guard said. He looked to be in his 40s, tall and well built; he eyed them suspiciously.

"We don't like competition, my friend here and I are prospectors too." The second guard said, he was younger but his gait betrayed no youthful inexperience or naivety.

"What if we paid you?" McBain asked.

The older guard chuckled. "Unless you broke the bank at all the casinos in New Vegas and New Reno, you wouldn't have enough. Then nearest ranch is 15 miles away and they ain't cheap. If you really had enough money, you wouldn't be here."

"Maybe we can borrow one." Ramirez suggested.

The guards laughed.

"We'll give you a down payment, and when we come back in a week or so, we'll give you five times that amount, plus 10% of what we score."

"That's a good one. What do you think, Sheldon?" The older guard said.

"Sounds like a bad joke. A human, a ghoul and a Brahmin walk into a whorehouse to suck on some teets. "

Both guards laughed.

"I think you two best stop laughing." McBain said coolly.

The older guard wasn't impressed. "I think you two best scram. I heard on the radio that the NCR is on the lookout for a ghoul and a human travelling together. That sticks out like a sore thumb out here. You ain't done no harm to us so we got nothin' against you. Best keep it that way. Adios zombie brains."

"You filthy smoothskin puta!" Ramirez cursed.

Sheldon cocked his rifle and pointed it at Ramirez.

"Keep talkin' you spic zombie. It's been a while since I blew some ghoul brains. My finger is gettin' mighty twitchy. I bet I killed some of your relatives. It's hard to tell, they all look alike."

"You know, you look familiar, pandejo. I think I fucked your great grandma's ass in a whorehouse before the war."

Now the older guard pointed his rifle at Ramirez. Though they all squinted due to the wind and the bright sun, all stared hardly at another. McBain's rifle was slung over his shoulder and Ramirez was totally unarmed, they wouldn't stand a chance, but that never showed in their defiant eyes.

"You best leave."

"You insulted my friend here. You best apologize before things get nasty."

Sheldon laughed.

"You hear that Cooke? He's threatnin' us it might get nasty."

"You guys got feet, walk." Cooke said.

"You want an apology? I'll give you a hollow point apology." Sheldon said.

There was a thick silence as they continued to stare darkly at another, the wind blowing thick dust.

McBain sighed casually. "Alright, I guess we'll go then."

"Huh?" Ramirez exclaimed.

McBain said nothing and began walking off. The two guards started laughing. Ramirez, fuming, ran after McBain.

"You pig!" He shouted.

"Relax. You can't go flying off the handle every time someone calls you names."

"Easy for you to say, smoothskin! You know what it's like to be called a zombie? To have people make fun of you right in your face? The dirty looks I get just for existing? I used to live like a fucking king and now look at me! I put up with a lot of shit, but I don't like getting called names!"

"So, how does some payback sound?"

"Sounds fucking good."

"We'll keep walking 'till we're over this ridge. We'll wait until nightfall, then we'll pay them a visit."

Ramirez grinned.

"I like the sound of that amigo. Maybe I can get myself a gun, huh amigo?"

McBain looked at him sternly.

"Don't bet on it."

Ramirez feigned offence, touching his hands to his chest. "You don't trust me, eh amigo?"

"No."

"Look, I'm worried about Radscorpions and Cazadores. We're gonna have to stay off the roads, right? That's where all the critters are. It'll be easier if we're both armed than if it's just you. And look at your rifle. It's really nice but it won't do much good if you've got a pack of Cazadores rushing towards you."

"Alright, alright." McBain sighed. "Once we're in town we'll find you something. Just be careful where you point it, otherwise I might get the wrong idea."

"No worries amigo!"

They passed over the crest of the ridge and waited for the sun to come down. They ate, drank and rested some, though they were mostly bored waiting for nightfall. Building a fire would give them away. They talked little, Ramirez was starting to get used to McBain's terseness. Ramirez passed the time by digging the ground at his feet. As he dug deeper he could see fissures, holes and tunnels created by worms or some other subterranean creature. It made him think about the terrible creatures that stalked the wasteland. Cazadores in the air, Deathclaws and Radscorpions on the ground. Were there any such creatures underground? He shuddered and buried the thought.

They crept towards the village, hugging the ground. Ramirez followed behind McBain. They stopped at the crest of the ridge, McBain viewed the village through his telescopic scope. Ramirez felt useless. He had no weapons, not even a pair of binoculars. Should something go awry, he would be defenceless and at the mercy of those who would show him none.

"What's it look like?" Ramirez asked.

"Looks like our friendly guards are heading in for the night. We're gonna take the house nearest to us. I want you to pull the gate down and grab a couple of Brahmins. I'll go in the house and take care of anyone, and grab us some supplies."

"Why this house?"

"It's the one where your friend lives."

"Good." Ramirez grinned wickedly. Then his grin faded. "Wait! Where do I go once I got the Brahmin?"

"Head up the road half a mile, then up into the hills on the east. I'll meet you there. Try to be quiet."

"Good plan amigo!" Ramirez enthused and then his putrefying smile died. "Hey… wait a second. Brahmin aren't exactly quiet."

McBain said nothing and started climbing down the hill. Ramirez trailed after him. Their target house was a few hundred yards away and below them. It was small but the enclosure where a dozen Brahmin stood resting was quite large.

Once clear of the hill they crouched. McBain would pace forward a few steps and then stop, look and listen. He repeated this until they reached the outer fence. Ramirez followed behind McBain, doing his best to keep hidden and quiet. They crept along the steel fence until they came to the gate. It was held closed by a pad locked chain. McBain pulled a flat head screwdriver and bobbypin out of his pocket. It took a minute before the lock was picked. McBain delicately unwrapped the chain, cautious lest the unravelling cause any loud noise. The gate was slowly pushed open. It creaked but only briefly.

The house had a backdoor that opened into the enclosure. The lights were on in one room, probably the bedroom. McBain reached the door to the house. He looked behind him and saw Ramirez leading a couple of Brahmins by a rope. They were both laden with saddles, and that meant one less thing to worry about. They were being quiet so far, but that probably wouldn't last. McBain stared at the light coming out of the window for half a minute, allowing his eyes to get used to the light. Then he grabbed the doorknob and slowly twisted it. It turned without resistance. That was the thing about country folks, they rarely locked their doors.

Slowly he pushed the door open. Faintly he heard a radio. The door opened up into the kitchen and he slowly crept in, his rifle at the ready. Light was streaming in, coming from the bedroom. He closed the door behind him and made his way towards the bedroom, judging every step, careful to make no noise. The bedroom door was half-opened. Despite the music, he could hear loud grunting and moaning sounds. This would give Ramirez something to chuckle about.

He stood, holding his rifle at the waist he slowly pushed the door open. Sheldon and Cooke were in bed together, engrossed in themselves, too involved to notice him. McBain aimed his rifle and fired, Sheldon collapsed and went limp. Cooke was just realizing something was awry when McBain finished reloading his rifle.

"I told you you should've apologized." He cracked. Cooke scrambled, trying to push Sheldon's dead body off him hand, his hand reached for the bedside table, where a pistol lay. McBain laughed and pulled the trigger, killing Cooke.

McBain grabbed the pistol Cooke had reached for and then closed the door and quickly started looting the house. There wasn't much but he took anything with a modicum of value. Cigarettes, booze, dishes, books, food, detergent, cleaner. If they were to pass as traders, it would help if their Brahmins were loaded with gear. He heard the village beginning to stir, people knocking on the door. He grabbed their varmint rifles, slung his pack over his shoulder and then ran out the back door. He headed from the hill from which he'd came. He heard the loud shouts and curses of the villagers as they realized what he'd done. He looked behind him but didn't see anyone coming after him, nor did he see anyone armed. A clean getaway, he bet Ramirez would be happy with what they pulled off.

Morden arrived into the village late in the afternoon. His cyberdog had some trouble catching the scent of the two men at first, but once he got the scent there was no wavering or uncertainty. They kept a brisk pace, hardly stopping since they'd set out from P-Mont. He saw a burial service being conducted, two bodies, wrapped in bloodied cloth, being laid into the earth. He only had one question to ask and he waited for the small ceremony to end before approaching the village. An armed sentry and a healthy German Shepherd watched him keenly.

"Stop right there!" He shouted when Morden got close enough.

"What's your business?"

"I'm after the guys who did that." He said.

"Are you the bounty hunter the NCR told us about?"

"When did this happen" Morden said curtly, as if there were something he was trying to avoid acknowledging.

"Last night, around 9:30."

"Thanks. I'll be off."

"Hey, don't you wanna know where they went?"

"My friend here knows that already."

Morden sent off, following his cyberdog, keenly tracking the scent of their prey.

"You hear that, Rex, we're getting closer."

The cyberdog barked happily, sensing what its master had said.