Well here is chapter six, coming along nicely I think. Anyway, I'm hoping to get a chapter done every day or two, that way I'll at least get something finished. (Wish the same could be said about my novels I'm writing.)

Chapter Six

After collecting their pay from both Grayson and selling the weapons from the dead pirates, Lowell had the honor of helping the deputies hang the corpses of the pirates to trees close to the river.

All of the bodies missing a finger.

On signs posted above the trees, were words that could clearly be read, "The Price of Piracy." Lowell also made sure that the hands missing the finger were shown, another warning to show this was the work of the Regulators.

"I still can't thank you enough, Mr. Morgan." sheriff Bann Grayson said as he shook Lowell's hand. "I'm just doing my job, sheriff. Same as you."

"So what will you do now?" Grayson asked as the two walked down the street. "Well, I'll need to get word to my boss. See if there's anything else I can do. So that means we have to make our way back to Duncan's Point."

Grayson nodded and once again shook Lowell's hand. "I wish you luck."

Lowell looked over to Mina who was waiting for him by the general store, he motioned to her and she got up. The two then proceeded out of the parish.

After taking a quick drink from his canteen, then sharing it with Mina, Lowell became deep in thought. He was thinking about that name he had heard yesterday. Vinioux.

He had known a Vinioux back in Washington, a Regulator, and a good man. That was until he snapped and went off the deep end. The same Vinioux that Lowell thought was he friend, his brother. Only to have him betray Lowell.

He had been extremely careful on how he picked his friends from then on.

Could it be the same man who had proved his friendship with Lowell was a farce? And if so, then what was he doing up here? Knowing Vinioux it was definitely not good. Slavery, torture, and raiding settlements. All his type of handy work.

Lowell shook his head. It would be sheer coincidence that it would be the same man. Even though he didn't believe in coincidences, it was too unlikely. Vinioux was crazy without a doubt, but he would need a reason for being up here.

Crazy, but not stupid.

After three days of traverse, four encounters with pirates, insane wastelanders, and a Yao Guai, the duo returned to the harbor. At the cost of 200 rounds of ammunition of course. Which meant about 200 caps lost replacing those bullets.

The two didn't care though. They wanted to relax at the local common house, and spend some of their caps on food, whisky and relaxation.

So when night fell Mina decided to watch a dog fight, and Lowell spent time in Amelia's Tavern.

As Lowell downed his fifth glass of whisky, he groaned from exhaustion. "You alright cowboy?" Amelia said as poured him another glass. "Yeah, just tired."

The two then heard over the radio what sounded like gunfire, and screams. The sound made everyone in the place go quiet.

After a moment Amelia shook her head and switched the HAM off. "Huh, it seems things get worse before they get any better."

Lowell stayed quiet for a moment before saying something that caught Amelia's attention. "'Deliver me, O Lord, from evil men; Preserve me from violent men, Who plan evil things in their hearts; Keep me O Lord, from the hands of the wicked; Preserve me from violent men, Who have purposed to make my steps stumble.'" Amelia actually grinned at what he was saying, but let him continue. "O God the Lord, the strength of my salvation, you have covered my head on the day of battle. Do not grant, O Lord, the desires of the wicked; Do not further his wicked scheme,'" Lowell was about to finish when Amelia did it for him. "'Lest they be exalted. Selah.' Psalms chapter 140 verses 1-2, 4, and 7-8. I'm impressed cowboy."

"Where did you learn the bible?" She asked as she picked up some glasses and set them on the shelves. "I nearly died sixteen years ago in Albany, and a group of catholic sisters patched me up. I had to do something so I read an intact King James Bible they had. Read it every day for three months." Lowell said as he leaned back another glass of whisky. "Yes, I absolutely do believe in god. And absolutely hate the shit head." He said, sighing.

"Why?" Amelia asked as she stared at the Regulator. "Well, when you see 10,000 of your friends and comrades die in two years of meaningless, not to mention penniless, fighting, you got to ask why he would let us keep destroying ourselves." Lowell said half lying.

He half lied because it wasn't the only reason for his contempt of the divine.

Of course it wasn't just the sisters that taught Lowell the word of god, it was the Rangers themselves, considering they were always asking for divine help in their battles.

Though they may not receive it now, especially with all the people they killed fifteen years ago. Both Talons and civilians. The collateral damage was always either accidents or fools who couldn't control themselves, in the process, damning the Rangers as a whole.

Lowell never liked to think about such things however.

"Now, Miss Amelia, if you don't mind, I'm going to sleep and then experience a hangover." Lowell said as he slid 20 caps on the bar, and started to walk out.

Amelia stared at him and asked. "Some say the Rangers are murderers. Others say they're holy men. Which is it?" Lowell stopped, and sighed. Without looking at her, muttered, "Maybe both."

Then without saying anything else he stepped through the threshold.

The next day after a lungful of cold air, and several aspirins, Lowell cracked his neck and head for Amelia's tavern the next morning. His intention was to radio Francis and see if there were any bounties to go after or some type of work.

Even in the morning, the harbor was still fairly busy. People were still rushing back and forth with supplies, messages, or live animals in their hands. The harbor didn't stop when the day did.

Inside the tavern he saw Cecil the German Shepherd asleep on the bar, and Amelia herself cleaning some glasses, yawning in the process.

When she noticed Lowell, she showed a tired grin, "Hey cowboy." Her voice as tired as her body. "Amelia." Lowell said, rubbing his eyes. "Do you mind if I use your HAM? I got to get instructions from my boss."

"Yeah sure. I'm going to sleep anyway." Amelia said after finishing her last glass. "C'mon Cecil." She said and the dog leapt off the bar and followed her master into the room behind the bar.

Lowell sighed as he sat down and switch the radio on. After switching over to 218, he pressed receive and said, "Calling Francis Garrett. Francis Garrett, you copy? Over." Lowell pulled out a cigarette and lit up. As he did so, a gruff and grouchy voice came from the old HAM. "Who the bloody hell is calling me this early in the morning?" Lowell ignored the old man's temper and answered. "It's Lowell. I talked to you about a week ago." There was a moment of silence before an angered voice said, "What the hell do you want?" Lowell was tired himself as well as suffering from a mild hangover. "You said call you for work, so that's what I'm doing." Lowell said, his tone changing slightly. "That's right I did, only not in the morning!" Morgan could feel his own temper rising as Francis continued to berate him through the HAM. "So I'm sorry if I get up early, you old bastard." Lowell said angrily. "Don't call me, unless it's after noon you little shit!" Francis shouted, and that was enough for Lowell.

Lowell got to his feet, knocking the chair he had been sitting in back. "HEY, HEY! Hey listen jerk off, I got a bad fucking hangover! Now I'm a little sick and tired of you yelling at me though a radio! Now do you have anything or not?!" Lowell shouted.

The yelling was enough make Amelia come out from the back and stare at Lowell. He panted, and held up his hand. "Sorry." He said humbly. She shook her head and vanished back inside the back room.

After a moment and Lowell had calmed down some, Francis' voice came back, sounding haggard. "Yes, I do. As your aware, the new river pirates are using tactics we've not encountered before. This means my Regulators are boarding free ships to do battle with this new enemy."

Meanwhile Lowell had discovered his cigarette had fallen away from his mouth. After searching for it a minute he found it and began dragging again.

"Only problem is, they know the river better than us. So we need maps, and charts of the rivers and surrounding country side. And there's only one place to find them. In the Albany Archives."

The hairs on the back of Lowell's head stood on end. The name of the city, where 30,000 people would never see home again. The city that had been reduced to a landscape of rubble.

Even to this day, he could still hear the endless shelling, the gas alarms, the screams.

"Lowell? You still there?" Francis asked, snapping Lowell back to reality. "Yeah, yeah I'm here. I-its gonna take me at least a week to get there and back." He said as he rubbed his face. This was of course allowing time to look around, and avoid death.

Albany, even to this day was still going through skirmishes by the 10th Rangers, and Talon company, since neither side really left. Not to mention the Super Mutants that took up residence in the city of death. "Well, then I suggest you get moving. Good luck."

After he said that, the other end clicked off.

Lowell sighed as he knew he would have to go back to the place where hell had reared it's head a second time, to find something that was more important then himself.

Just another day.

After he had awoken Mina and had paid off every bill in the harbor, Lowell and Mina hitched a ride aboard New Jersey Dream, a tug boat hauling good to a town called Burlington in the far north country.

The crew however did not want to go near Albany. In fact they wanted to get past it as quickly as possible. So Lowell asked them to drop him and Mina off as they could. After a little persuasion, the captain agreed.

It took two days, and a half dozen pirate attacks, when the boat stopped.

Lowell and Mina were asleep when this happened. The former was awake first and after groaning and looking around, headed for the bridge.

"What's going on?" He asked the captain who had the lights off. "You got two minutes, to get off. That's as long as I'm gonna stay here." The captain said as he kept his eyes on the horizon.

Hearing this Lowell rushed back down to the sleeping quarters and pulled Mina off the cot. When angrily asked, Lowell said, "C'mon, we got to get off now."

After getting quickly dress, namely just throwing their boots and dusters on, they then leapt off the boat into the frigid knee deep water. In Mina's case, waist deep.

Once they were off, the Dream then floated away from the bank and then quietly slipped away into the darkness.

It couldn't have been three hours before sunrise. Lowell wanted to hurry, because this close to the city, only five miles, would attract some kind of attention. Not to mention elements of Talon company still occupied pockets of the southern region of Albany.

The two then took refuge in an old gas station just short of the flattened city.

This was one of the few incidents that warranted a warming fire.

To start this process, Lowell first took out a hatchet and cautiously went outside. There he started hacking, as quickly as he could, on the dead trees outside. After collecting several branches and stepping back inside, he set the dead limbs down in a nice pile. Lowell then reached into his pack and pulled out a small metal fire starter and striker. "Hand me those pieces of paper, kid." He said and began rolling the papers up. After they were neatly rolled, he angled the metal rod above the paper and then scrapped the striker down it. Sparks showered the paper and it quickly caught fire. After that it was a simple matter of stoking the branches into flames.

Just then he heard a small clatter outside and dashed to the window, .44 at the ready. At first he couldn't see anything, but then saw the distinctive color of a lone Brahmin. How lucky could they have gotten? "Stay here kiddo." He said, sounding slightly giddy. He reached into his pack and pulled out the 3 way entrenching tool. Then he vanished out the door.

A moment went by, the only sound was the sound of the fire crackling. Then Mina heard it. The sound of something ramming into a panicked animal, it mooing in sheer fright. Only to have the moos suddenly cut silent, and replaced by metal clanging and grunting.

Then Lowell returned, grunting as he dragged the beheaded corpse of a fair Brahmin.

Once Mina had the fire squared away, Lowell then pulled out three metal poles from his back, as well as a small can. As well as metal wire. After Mina had skinned a portion of the dead animal she handed Lowell the meat, and he then stabbed it with the spit.

As the meat was roasted over the fire, the grease began dripping off into the can Lowell and placed under the lump of smelling food. This would be collected and used for both boot polish and chapping cracked lips, so as to prevent bleeding.

After an hour, Lowell and Mina sat against the wall, their bellies full. "Now that is a proper meal." Lowell said as he then stood. "That was a royal feast." Mina said sleepily, and shifted on her pack to get comfortable.

Lowell chuckled and said, "Get some sleep. I'll wake you after sun up." He then took hold of his shotgun and saw Mina already asleep, curled up by the warming fire.

He grinned and set the shotgun against the wall. Lowell then proceeded in removing his duster and draped it over her body. A makeshift blanket.

Once it was snugly on, he gently touched her shoulder and whispered. "Have good dreams, honey." After that he took hold of the shotgun and quietly stepped into the next room.

It was going to be a cold night.

Okay that's chapter six. The grease bit, I actually took from The Book of Eli. (Product Placement). You all know the rule review what you thought and await for chapter 7.

And Augustine, hurry up, I'm starting to pass you here!