Antillicus raised his canteen to his mouth, hoping for a few last drops of water. He was disappointed when none came. He slung it back around his shoulder and reached for his binoculars. Peering through the scratched eyepieces, he saw Nipton, his destination. Something wasn't quite right, however. A pillar of smoke a mile high rose from it, and the inhabitants were nowhere to be seen.
After stuffing his binoculars back into his pack, Antillicus turned to Cass. "Doesn't look good up there," he remarked. The redhead chuckled dryly. "Took you that long to notice?" He rolled his eyes playfully. "I'm just worried who - or what - caused this. We might be outgunned here." She crossed her arms. "Didn't stop us earlier, did it?" A smirk crossed the courier's tanned face. "Let's check it out," he said.
Antillicus gawked at the poles lining Nipton's main road. "Crucifixion? I mean...Powder Gangers are assholes, sure, but...damn." Cass cursed under her breath and pulled him back behind the building they'd hidden behind. "It's gotta be Legion." Antillicus nodded, slightly taken aback by how she'd manhandled him. "How're we gonna deal with these bastards?" he asked. "I think I have an idea," she replied, as she pulled a few sticks of dynamite out of her pack.
The trap was set. It had been an arduous task, maneuvering into a position where they could take out the group of Legionaries. Antillicus had positioned himself behind a building to the east, while Cass and ED-E snuck around to their western flank. The signal had been chosen - a short whistle from Antillicus would signal the other two to attack. As he peeked around his cover, Antillicus decided the time was right. He imitated a bird call the best he could with his whistle, and the fun began.
First, the duo tossed a stick of dynamite each. The red cylinders fell to the feet of Legion soldiers, prompting yells of surprise. They exploded to spectacular effect, apparently killing four of the seven sports-gear-wearing bigots. One of the remainder lost a leg, and the other two were retching and rolling on the ground from the blast wave. Antillicus couldn't hold back a grin as he started towards the living three.
The "crack!" of his first pistol shot rang out, echoing around the surrounding hills. As he approached the second, aiming for the poor bastard's head, the legionary pulled down his face covering and spat at Antillicus. He calmly wiped the saliva away and tightened his finger around the trigger. Cass held her aim on the third, as did ED-E. "That wasn't very nice," remarked Antillicus as he squeezed the trigger.
Blood spattered onto him as he fired a second time, the brass of the ejected shell casing catching the sunlight. "Now, who's this with the dog's head hood?" queried Antillicus as he knelt next to their final captive. The flecks of blood on his face made his grin look all the more ferocious.
"I am the great Vulpes Inculta, profligate. And if it weren't for the fact that I can't move, I'd be tearing you limb from limb right now." The courier laughed. "Now, now. No need to be so hostile. Just tell me...what kind of sick bastard does this to people?" he asked, gesturing towards the crucified Powder Gangers. Vulpes answered with a venomous voice. "One who is just. This town was a haven of evil, and we purified it." Damn Legion, he thought. Always trying to justify themselves.
"Now, I'm getting real tired of your shitty attitude," said Antillicus. "I'd gladly put a bullet through your skull right now, but I need information. I'm looking for a fellow named Boxcars." A perplexed look crossed the frumentarius's face, and then transformed into one of disgust. "He was one who survived. He 'won' the lottery. Now, he's holed up in the general store with two useless legs." Vulpes laughed a dry laugh, then coughed up some blood. "That's all I needed to know," replied the courier as he stood up. A final gunshot disturbed the tranquil air.