They stayed at Ranger Station Charlie until reinforcements arrived. The new rangers came directly from Camp Golf, and while they had been reluctant to believe the reports of Legion presence West of the Colorado, they had immediately reconsidered when they saw the state of affairs at the post. Mason gave a full report to the others, explaining how he had gone looking for the missing rangers and found the site of the recent battle, four dead rangers and twice as many dead Legion, but no Beaumont. Then how he had found their camp, and finished off the remaining enemy soldiers before freeing the two slaves and rescuing the Ranger.
Beaumont was recovering slowly, but surely, and was eager to get back in uniform, though the other Rangers forced him to rest.
"I know you will be going after those bastards who killed my men, Mason." He argued "I want to be there to make them pay!" Beaumont's face contorted in rage and grief as he slammed a fist weakly into the palm of the opposite hand.
"I know Joe, but I'm going to Camp Golf first. We need to plan and find out the extent of Caesar's operation before we act, besides that my recruit needs more training before she's ready for a mission of that caliber." He reassured his friend that he would come back for him when it was time.
Beaumont looked disbelieving at Mason, but added simply "You kill that bastard twice for me, Mason."
Alec squeezed his hand and walked away.
Sunny had been practicing shooting mole rats with one of the other rangers when Mason told her to get ready to move out. She had been anticipating this order ever since the reinforcements had arrived and so was ready to leave almost immediately.
They followed the railroad North again, completely bypassing the town of Novac and its huge green dinosaur. They continued moving swiftly past a small junkyard, a huge solar power plant, and a decaying service station before turning East. Mason told her that he intended to stop off at another ranger station, Station Delta this time, before moving on to Camp Golf. He wanted to get a better view of any Legion activity on the river, and this station was very close to the Colorado.
It was late, close to midnight, but they pushed on, wanting to make the station on this march. Sunny was growing very tired, and was having difficulty keeping her eyes open when Mason stopped suddenly in the trail just in front of her. Sunny was instantly alert, and in the dark ahead she thought she could see moving shapes. She blinked her eyes to clear her vision, and could hear a faint rustling noise coming from several directions.
Mason stepped backwards, an involuntary and uncharacteristic movement of retreat. His eyes darted from side to side, wide with alarm, ears straining to hear the terrible sound he knew was out there. It was the buzzing of a hundred large, transparent wings, flapping angrily in the warm night air. They had stumbled upon a huge cazador nest. Cazadores were giant wasps, fast as lightning and just as lethal.
"Run!" Mason yelled as the cloud of deadly insects descended from all around them, "Don't fight, just run for you life!" He set off, hoping that she heard and followed his order, knowing that he could do nothing to help her or even himself except to get away. Seconds later Mason discovered an interesting fact about his recruit. She was fast. Sunny whipped past him like he was standing still, her long brown hair streaming out behind her, having fallen loose from its bun. She bounded like an antelope, and soon left him behind, only stopping when she reached the sudden edge of a precipice. She barely caught herself from falling into the Colorado River far below, and she stood gasping for breath for just a moment before she began to wonder what had happened to Mason. The answer to this question came in the form of a bellowing, charging behemoth that careened into her from the path behind.
Still pursued by the angry hoard, Mason didn't pause, but launched them both over the edge of the canyon until gravity took over and pulled them down towards the muddy waters below. They hit with a tremendously painful splash and immediately began to sink under the weight of their gear. Mason struck bottom and groped around for Sunny in the dark of the rushing water. Grasping at her armor, he pulled her pack away and released it into oblivion. He did the same with her rifle and his own long gun and pack. He then kicked with all his strength, pulling her along to break the surface for a brief gasp of air before they were again sucked down into the black. This time he managed to shed his duster and his boots before making one more push back up and out. He swam with one powerful arm, holding Sunny with the other, and struggled to the side of the river, launching her out onto the sandy bank.
Sunny coughed up spurts of foul river water and gasped in deep draughts of air as she crawled further away from the rushing current. Mason rolled onto his side and retched, the Colorado still tugged at his feet, but he was too exhausted to move. He shut his eyes and gave in to oblivion.
It was only moments later, but it seemed like hours when he woke to the sound of voices overhead.
"Man, I'll tell you whut Petey." One voice said, with a thick hillbilly accent "That was the craziest shee-it I ever did see out in this here mo-jah-vay."
"That's because you don't get out much, Ducky." Said a second voice, deeper and smoother than the first.
Mason groaned and rolled over to find himself staring up at two NCR troopers.
"Ranger? You ok?" the deeper voice asked, as Mason struggled to sit up. The two troopers reached down to help him to his feet and one offered him a canteen.
"Thanks boys, but I think I've had enough water."
The first trooper chuckled. "Shoot Ranger, 'taint water, but good ole rye whiskey. Just like pappy used to make." He winked and offered the flask again. Mason took a swig of the burning liquor and coughed, but felt better as the alcohol gave off an illusory sense of warmth that radiated out over his entire body.
"I'm Trooper Mallard, but most just calls me Ducky. Over yonder is Trooper 'Petey' Peterson." Ducky pointed to the other Trooper, who was helping Sunny sit up and offering her a drink from the flask. "That was a fancy swan dive you took. Surprised that you and the little lady made it."
"We found your duster tangled in the bracken downstream a ways, but I'm afraid your other gear is gone." said Trooper Peterson apologetically. "When you're ready, we will take you up to Station Delta and we might be able to find some surplus lying around."
Mason shook hands with both troopers and thanked them. He had managed somehow to hang on to his .44 magnum, but the loss of his sniper rifle and all of the other gear was quite a blow. He had no one to blame but himself though. He should have detected the cazadores before they had gotten that close. Barefoot and brooding he followed along behind Troopers Mallard and Peterson, the later of which was helping Sunny limp along the path, her ankle apparently sprained in the fall.
They were alive, yes, but maybe he was losing his touch.