Chapter 6: Jumping at Shadows

Sunny frowned from the corner booth as the group of out of towners paid their tab and left the bar with the rest of its patrons in the wake of last call. The clock read 12:45 as the last of them, a large, leering bald man slipped outside and shut the door. Trudy beamed as she counted off the nights earnings behind the till.

"I don't know what you were belly-achin' about Sunny. Sure, the fat one had a wanderin' eye but he paid his tab and didn't cause no fuss."

"I dunno Trudy, somethin' about them just seems…off. How many settlers you know travel with no caravan or gear into a place like New Vegas?"

"Maybe they just came into town for a few drinks an' left the gear in camp, fuck if I know Sunny but I know better than to look a gift horse in its mouth."

"What if they're some'a Cobb's boys, here to spy on the town?" Sunny said in a hoarse whisper. Trudy frowned and settled her hands on her hips.

"Then they didn't find anything out from us. You need to relax Sunny." The younger woman frowned at the older one.

"Maybe…I dunno 'bout you, but I haven't slept easy since…y'know. He got here."

"Me neither Sunny. But if you keep jumping at every shadow sooner or later your legs are gonna get sore." The younger woman regarded the older for a moment before turning her head away to gaze out into inky blackness that filled the window. Trudy frowned and regarded her friend for a moment, taking note of the heavy bags under her eyes, and the haggard expression she wore on her face. Feeling a rush of paranoia, she glanced behind the bar to the glass where she usually kept her revolver. That night, it stood empty. When the out of towners had rolled in she kicked herself for leaving it in her nightstand drawer. She shook her head; it seemed Sunny's paranoia was a touch infectious.

Sunny ran a hand over her face before rising from her barstool perch.

"I think I'm gonna head home."

"Yeah? If you want I'll walk with you, I just need to lock up real quick an' we can-"

"Thanks Trudy, but it's alright. You're right, I need to loosen up a lil'.Things have just been so crazy these past few days, I…I'm just feelin' the strain right now."

Trudy reached out and settled a hand on Sunny's shoulder.

"Its okay hon. We're all feelin' it. What we're doin' may not be easy, but it's the right thing to do." Sunny squeezed the other woman's hand and shot her a weary smile.

"Alright Trudy, take care. Cheyenne! Lets go." Sunny rose from her seat and exited the bar, Cheyenne close in tow. Trudy locked the safe beneath the bar floor before exiting the bar and locking the door. Once again, she found herself on the long, lonely walk back to her house. Truth be told, she had offered to walk Sunny home in part because she hadn't wanted to be alone after leaving the bar. She too felt the weight of unseen eyes and had developed a curious habit of glancing over her shoulder but had stayed her tongue to ease her friend's mind. Her wandering mind caused Trudy to stumble over a stone in the path and as she stopped to catch her balance, she thought she could hear heavy footsteps. Rising, she tensed and listened in the darkness for the treading of boots. The night was silent save for the whistle of a hot desert wind.

She quickened her step and soon her home was in view. Again, she felt a bite of paranoia and stopped mid-step. Her skin crawled under the weight of unseen eyes and she felt her pulse quickening as she began walking quickly down the path. The porch of her home seemed to extend outward for eternity in the frightful blackness as her mind conjured untold horrors of what lurked in the night. Leering Powder Gangers and raiders seemed hidden behind every fallen log, rock and shattered homestead as she strode briskly down Goodspring's main and only road. Finally, mercifully, she closed the gap separating her and her home, fighting down the urge to sprint up the steps. When she reached the top step however, she felt a violent tug at her dress. Shouting in surprise, Trudy wrenched violently away from her attacker, losing balance and tumbling to the warped floor-boards of her porch. Whipping her head up, she rose her arms in defense and shut her eyes against what was coming. For several long, agonizing seconds she sat there, frozen, arms raised and eyes shut tight. She contemplated her regrets, her life whipping through her mind in a frenzied blur of emotions and images. She should have never let Ringo stay. Hell, she should have never even settled in this blasted pit called Goodsprings! When she dared open her eyes, she found that blasted, battered tree growing in the yard had snagged and torn a piece of her dress off. She sat stunned, hands still raised in front of her face in guard, features frozen in a mix of utter horror and surprise. Then, she began to laugh. It started as a weak thing at first, but soon she was forced to stifle her mirth behind a hand. Relief came in a gentle wave, rippling down her body as she picked herself up off the porch. She began fumbling for her keys when her free hand found the door and found that it turned freely.

Coulda sworn I locked that…She though absently as she walked inside. When the door shut behind her, she quickly set about locking the door before leaning up against it, closing her eyes and taking a few long, deep breaths. The 'ordeal' had left her feeling flustered and hungry, so she strode down the hall towards her kitchen, kicking off her shoes as she did so. When she neared the kitchen, however, she felt a hot, desert breeze blowing through and turned her gaze to the window mounted above the sink. It was broken. She heard the light, hollow click of a 9mm hammer being cocked just behind her ear before a deep, threatening voice whispered.

"Scream and you're dead, bitch." She felt an iron grip fold around her arm as she was hauled into her bedroom and thrown roughly onto the floor. She landed in a heap on the ground before leaping back to her feet and turning to face her assailant. He was a tall man of fair, sun darkened skin. His hair was of a light auburn color and cut short over handsome features and large, chocolate eyes. She recognized him as one of the men from the bar. He stepped forward and Trudy raised her arms.

"I don't wanna hurt you lady." He said, lowering the gun and spreading out his hands. Trudy gazed over into his chocolate eyes and moved to take a step backwards. As she did so however, the intruder suddenly reached forward and took hold of the hole that had been torn in her dress, stripping the clothes from her body and throwing her roughly onto her bed.

"But things will start to get reeeeaal ugly from here if you don't tell me what I wanna know." He growled, pistol raised now. Trudy fought back tears and backed up into the headboard, trying in vain to cover herself with her hands as she did so. Her underwear was old and though still holding together it was a bit revealing in places.

"W-what do you want to know?"

"You're going to tell me where in this shit-hole town Ringo is hiding, so I and some others can go blow his fucking head off and get as far away you people and this dump as possible." Trudy turned her gaze away for a moment, her heart thundering in terror as the man edged closer and closer to her bed, heavy revolver tight in hand and aimed straight at her.

"Listen lady, I ain't got all night. I came here to get somethin' and if I gotta leave without knowin' where Ringos hiding, then I'm leavin' with you. See, I ain't got the stomach for torturin' shit outta people like the boys back at the camp do. Hell, some of'm even get off on that shit. But I'll be damned if Imma let the opportunity for a crack at some prime pussy like yourself pass me by!" He said, free hand rising to undo his collar before descending down the first several buttons of his shirt.

"So, the way I'm seein' things is like this; I'm gonna start undoin' my shirt now because I haven't had me any in a loooong time. If you got something to say while I'm doin it, then say it an maybe I'll just leave you and be on my way. You stay quiet though, an I get this shirt off, then you an' me is gonna have a little fun before I drag your ass back to camp for the rest of the fella's to get a crack at. Maybe you'll get lucky an' the Legion will swing by to buy you before one of the boys gets to carried away an accidentally kills ya, but that wouldn't be for a loooooong time sister. So if I were in your shoes, I'd start thinkin' reeeeeaal carefully about what I might wanna say in the next couple seconds." Said the intruder. His voice was low and smoky and as he undid more of the buttons holding his shirt together it revealed the hard chiseled muscle that coated his body. Trudy felt a rush of exhilaration and lust joining with the sheer terror she felt as she huddled herself back against the head-board of her bed. She was in shock; her mind kept thinking sideways whenever she tried to focus on the situation at hand. She thought about how lonely it was in the big bed she huddled on, or the cravings she had been feeling for a good fucking. Like the handsome rogue currently undoing his shirt with a gun trained on her, it had been a looooong time since she had gotten some last. She started considering his words and what would happen if she waited too long to respond. She could practically feel the heat of his breath on her exposed neck, the roughness of his calloused hands on her vulnerable body, and she quivered at the thought of being mounted and taken by this outlaw.

The powder-ganger's shirt was almost free, held together by a sparse two buttons. He stopped there and shot up a look into his victim's eyes, his own dark, hard and nonchalant. The look seemed to say 'last chance'. Trudy hesitated and met his gaze with a terrified and oddly erotic expectancy. He turned back to the last buttons and just before his fingers could find the last one Trudy called out.

"Wait! O-okay! I'll tell you where Ringo is hiding." She said, staring down into her blankets and biting her lip. The Powder Ganger froze and without taking his eyes nor the barrel of his outstretched weapon off of her, he spoke.

"Well?"

"He's hiding in the old gas station up the street…." She said timidly, feeling shame add itself to the maelstrom of lust and terror that had erupted within her breast. The powder ganger stood still for a moment, gazing down at his victim with his hand hovering over the last button in his shirt. He grinned and opened his hands.

"See, now how hard was that?" He said, reaching down and zipping up his fly, the menacing glare of the revolver never wavering from its target. He turned to leave and glanced over his shoulder at Trudy.

"Of course, you realize if you're lying theres three more guys waiting nearby I can call and let me assure you, they will be far less agreeable then I've been." He said in a sharp, lilting tone that belied intelligence and the hint of condescendence that it brought. He started moving forward, towards the door but stopped when Trudy called out after him.

"Wait!..." He stopped and turned to face her. Trudy had spread out on the bed, opening her legs tantalizingly and running a finger along her thigh.

"You got what you wanted….what about what I want?"

The powder ganger's mouth went slack and his eyebrows shot up.

"An' what might that be?"

"Oh don't play coy." She said, her fingers working their way towards the lip of her underwear. The powder ganger looked uncertain and suspicious, shoot a hesitant glance to the front door.

"Whats the matter?" Trudy crooned, "Forget how to please a woman? Or did you go queer in jail? That it? You got a daddy waitin' for you back at camp?" His face turned dour and he walked up to the bed and took her roughly by the hair before throwing her back into the head board. Trudy moaned and laced her hands through the pillows she had stacked on at the head of her bed as the powder ganger tore his clothes off in a frenzy. He was so busy, in fact, that he failed to notice that Trudy had retrieved her revolver from its place beneath her pillow and now had it cocked and hovering a scarce few inches from the powder ganger's face.

"Mmmm, hey lover boy?' He glanced up and found himself staring down the barrel of her gun.

"Go fuck yourself." She said, squeezing the trigger and blowing the mans head to pieces. Trudy sat there, frozen as the man's headless corpse sat upright for a moment before toppling over the edge of the bed and landing with a hard thud. The shot left her ears ringing and a spurt of blood had splashed on her face. In a daze, the gun toppled from her hand and clattered to the ground. When she looked at her hand, she saw that it was shaking. She crawled to the edge of the bed and gazed over at the body, almost frightful that it might suddenly spring to life and attack. It didn't. She rolled over to the other side and swung her legs out over the edge. When she tried to rise however, her legs went weak and she collapsed to the ground. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment when she hit the floor but snapped open when she felt something hot and wet touch her cheek. She jerked back and saw the the bloodied stump that was her attacker's face had leaked blood all the way under her bed. She tried to rise once more but stumbled to her knees and felt the contents of her stomach roil before spilling out on the ground before her. She fought to her feet, leaning heavily on the wall as she staggered from her bedroom into the bathroom.

With numb fingers she splashed the ice cold water in the wash stand on her face, washing the blood and vomit from her cheek and chin before slipping the bath robe hanging on a rack on and walking back out into her living room. A bottle of scotch sat out on the coffee table and she poured herself a glass. She tilted it up to her lips, sipping lightly at first before taking in a mouthful with a hard swallow, feeling the stinging burn of the liquor drop all the way into her stomach. It shocked her some, snapped her out of the hazy dreamland she had slipped into. It had all happened so quickly, and she was still surprised that her ruse had worked. She felt shame at the craving she had felt for the dead man.

Its been a loooong time since I'd gotten some. Hell, I can't even remember who it was. Sunny would probably know better than I would-

Trudy felt her heart skip a beat as the scotch glass slipped from her numb fingers and shattered on the floor.

Oh god, Sunny.