Chapter 7: Strangers In The Night
"How much further?"
"I don't know." The Mysterious Man shot his mate a skeptical look and hitched up the burden of the man sprawled across his shoulder. Miss Fortune shot her husband a heated look from over the silken veil.
"I'm a psychic, not a damned compass." The man rolled his eyes and trudged onward through the sands and rough scrub bushels that dotted the Mojave's expanse.
Miss Fortune cleared her throat and felt a flush of embarrassment at the biting tone in her voice.
"How did he get so far in his condition?" She said in an attempt to lighten the mood.
The Mysterious Man hummed a few bars of a song before speaking.
"You're guess is good as mine. I suppose he's lucky he just stumbled into some desert trash instead of a deathclaw, or worse, Caesar and his Legion."
"Do you think Caesar would remember him?"
"Probably not, and I doubt he would ever look too closely at a new slave. At any rate, I find it hard to believe falling into slavery or being inducted into the shock troops would be conducive to our ultimate goal."
This gave his wife pause for a moment and she spared a hesitant glance for the waning moon which was beginning to rise to its perch above the Mojave.
"We need to hurry."
"I still don't like this."
"I know you don't, but what other choice do we have? It is not our place to alter the flow events, for better or worse. We are only the proponents of fate my love, not its masters." The Mysterious Man scowled.
"Hmph. If only you could convince our son of the same."
"Jeremy has simply lost his way. Can you blame him? You've said it yourself; the path we walk is not an easy one. His vulnerabilities got the better of him and he took off. The way he saw it, we abandoned him and he's not wrong. That's no reason to forget him. He may still play a part in this yet."
"And I thought you said you couldn't see Jack's future for certain."
"I said he may play a part my dear." The Mysterious man grunted in response and hiked up his burden on his shoulder.
"…This guy is heavy."
"Whining won't make him any lighter, my love."
"Are you sure we should just give it to him? Right now? I mean, how do we know he won't just run around blasting holes in people with it?"
"I saw him with it in my vision. He killed several of those Powder-Gangers. A pity, though."
"What?"
"He won't be in time to save the poor girl."
Trudy quickly dressed herself but couldn't bring herself to look at the dead man staining her carpet. She would have to deal with him at some point but for right then the moment was too fresh in her mind and there were bigger problems at hand. She pulled over a blue spotted dress and snatching up her revolver and a box of rounds, she darted out the door glancing cautiously about before taking off running into the desert in the opposite direction that she had come, towards where Sunny lived. She ran briskly down the street, a veritable horror show flickering through her thoughts as to what could be happening to her friend and confidant. She saw the big man, the leering bald one roughly tearing the clothes from her back before pinning her down with his big hands and- she slapped herself to tear the grisly scene from her thoughts.
Soon she was passing her saloon, the Prospector. The lights were all off and the door was still locked so she hadn't doubled back to the bar if she ran into trouble. Trudy kept the pace up, heart thundering in her ears as she tore down the street towards Sunny's house. She passed by the rough path to Doc Mitchell's house, the beaten dirt barely visible in the moonlight and saw to her surprise that the lights inside were on. Frantically, she ran up the step before pounding on the battered door that had been hastily reattached to its hinges the day before. The door fell flat on the ground from her pummeling and she poked her head inside to call out for the doctor. There was no answer and Trudy felt her heart plummet as she returned to the road. Her legs and chest burned and her muscles were twitchy and felt ready to give out at any moment as she picked up her pace once more. The road angled sharply past the run-down gas station and Trudy had to fight down the urge to go to Ringo for help. Bringing him out would only bring the rest of the Powder-Gangers down on Goodsprings. She had to stop for a moment, to catch her breathe when she heard a boot crunching down on sand behind her.
She whirled around, revolver snapped up in trembling hands as she regarded the heavy hanging Darkness of the Desert. A familiar voice called out from the desert and a familiar old man came walking out of the shadows with his hands up.
"Whoa there Trudy, take it easy! It's me, Mitch!" Trudy leered into the darkness for a moment, trying to discern whether it really was the doctor or not. After a moment, she had decided that he was and lowered her gun.
"Scared me half to death you did! What are you doin' running around this hour of the night waving a piece around at everyone who-"
"Doc listen to me!" She said, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him in close.
"I was just attacked at home; one of the Powder-gangers was waiting for me Doc. In my house . They know where we live Doc, they knew right where to find me and when I'd be there. We need to find Sunny, have you seen'er Doc?"
"Sunny? Yeah, I saw'er not twenty minutes ago, headin' towards the water source. Ran into'er while I was lookin' for my patient."
"Your patient? You mean the one with the hole in his head?"
"Yeah. I…uh…drank a lil' too much at the bar earlier and when I got home I sorta dosed while we were out in the yard an' when I woke up.." Trudy laid a hand on the doctor's shoulder.
"Alright, then after we find Sunny then we can go lookin' for the dead guy now lets go!" She barked, dragging the aged man by his sleeve back the way she had come before turning off the road and heading towards Goodspring's water source.
Sunny trudged on through the night towards the water tower on the outskirts of Goodsprings, -Cheyenne close at heel.
She sighed, hefting up the sling of her varmint rifle. It was a .22, a banged up, dusty old thing but it did well enough against the geckos and coyotes prowling about. Sunny felt her leather armor chaffing at the cinch and she hissed as she loosened the belt strap. Cheyenne froze midstep and shot her ears up as Sunny walked by. A low growl from behind her caused Sunny to pause. The varmint rifle she looped over her head and snapped it to her shoulder, scanning the inky blackness with the barrel of her weapon.
"Who's there?" She barked. Sunny Smiles was accustomed to the harsh realities of wasteland life and this would not be the first time she found herself attacked in the dead of night. Slavers, Raiders, or sickos she'd shot them all dead or gotten away somehow. This night, however, would be different.
A man's got needs, after all.
Lou Eriks edged his way out of the darkness until he was standing just a sparse few feet from Sunny, hands up, palms out and a nervous smile on his bald, ugly face.
"I-I'm sorry sweet heart, I just got a li'l turned around after leavin' the saloon, a fine establishment might I add, and I was wonderin'," He said, edging a little closer,
"Which way is it to the long-75? " Sunny scowled and pointed with her free hand, the other never leaving the trigger guard and the barrel never deviated from his midsection.
It HAD to be him….the creepy one…Something about his story just felt…wrong.
"Head down that way 'till you hit the road, then follow it until you hit…" Sunny took a slight step back.
"Back at the bar….You said you came up the 75…" The nervous smile twitched downward at the corner before snapping back up.
"Did I say that? Must'ah been the booze talkin.." Sunny snapped her varmint rifle up and centered the sights on the ogre's chest.
"Uh-uh. You said that at first call asshole." She said, stepping back quickly. She spared a quick glance about for Cheyenne but her deputy was nowhere to be found.
Man's best friend my ass.
The leering giant dropped his hands to his sides as a sullen smirk spread across his features.
"I was hopin' you'd make this easy sweetie." He said, kindly outtatowner act dropped and replaced by the dull, uneducated drawl of his voice and the shaky, cold smile that had spread across his features.
"I was gonna be reeeeaaal nice. Be gentle even'. I still can be, if you let me." He said, advancing slowly through the desert towards her. Sunny brought the varmint rifle up but the big man reached and seized hold of the barrel of the gun, wrenching it to the size just as she pulled the trigger. The heat singed his hand and Lou loosed a roar before slamming his foot into the base of Sunny's midsection and tearing the rifle from her hands and hurling it into the night. Sunny fell to the ground and as the giant raged at his burnt palm she began crawling away.
"Where do ya' think your goin'!?" He roared, reaching down and taking hold of her ankle. As his fat, burly fingers closed about her heel, however, Sunny sat bolt upright and slashed at his meaty hands with a large slightly rusted combat knife. Blood shot out of his left forefinger in short angry spurts as the top portion of it was slashed off by the knife's serrated edge and the big rapist rose up from his victim and screamed. But not in pain. No, the big man screamed with excitement and exhilaration; it had been a long time since he felt the sharp, biting sting of pain and seen the sight of his own blood. He felt blood rushing to his extremities and he suddenly felt a blinding ecstasy take hold of him as he moved to pounce once more on the prostrated Sunny. She rolled deftly to the side and leapt to her feet , letting the bumbling ogre sail to the ground. She kicked the big man hard in the throat while he struggled to rise from his hands and knees. He loosed a hoarse shout but wrapped his arms tight about Sunny's leg and whipped her to the ground.
The big man pinned her beneath him and reached down to tear her leather armor piece from her chest but drew back when she swung up at him with the knife. She took the blade in two hands and moved to stab the blade up at his chest but the ogre was too fast. He caught her wrists and stopped the thrust when the blade was a sparse several inches from his body. With a morose giggle Lou pushed the blade back before squeezing as hard as he could, crushing her hands against the pommel of the knife and forcing her to drop it. Almost drooling, he dropped to his hands and knees and once more brought his hands to her clothes before feeling the point of her knee slamming into his balls. He let out a pained howl and crumpled to the ground, hands grasping at his manhood. Leaping to her feet, Sunny took off running, battered body screaming in pain as she tried to get up a good pace for her escape. Some feet behind her Lou had struggled back to his feet and began to give chase, though he had no chance of catching her on foot as she tore off into the desert. She stopped dead in her tracks though a few yards away. Edging in out of the darkness were four more men, dressed in Powder-Ganger garb and bearing pool cues and bats. And, she realized as an icy lump formed in her throat, a rather large length of rope. They wore contempt on their face in knowing smirks or eager grins.
Oh god no…Not like this.. She thought to herself, backing slowly away from the men that were approaching. At her back, the pained giant had fought to his feet and was now making his way over to where she stood. Sunny thought about making a run for it, she thought about just running as far and as fast as her legs could carry her but she dismissed the thought. They were too close now and she was too tired to sustain the type of exertion that could carry her away from these men to safety. Sighing she condemned herself to her fate. The four men tried to reach her before the lumbering giant could but Lou snatched the girl away from them at the last minute.
"Uh-uh assholes, finders keepers. You can get sloppy seconds, now shut up and hold the bitch down." Sunny felt numb as the men set about stripping her armor off, followed by worn cotton t-shirt and battered bra as well. The prisoners drooled over her C-cups. She wasn't there; the voices and sensations came from a place that seemed far away, as though happening to someone else. The big man squeezed her breast and she hissed in disgust, bringing her back to the present just in time to witness the giant dropping his drawers and running a grimy, rough hand down her stomach towards her belt-line.
"I was gonna be gentle." He whispered in her ear. His free hand took hold of a great clump of her red hair and roughly jerked it back.
"But then you cut me you fuckin' whore." He said, undoing her belt and whipping it off into the desert before coming back to haul at her jeans. The men with him spread her legs slightly but never lost their iron grip as he moved to lift her hips and pull her pants and under wear off.
"So now, Imma make you bleed bitch."
As her jeans began passing her hips, however, there came a sharp bang from somewhere off in the desert. The Powder-Gangers froze mid-strip, eyes and ears straining for whatever had made the affronting noise. But there was nothing but darkness surrounding them, and only the whistle of the wind broke the silence. Sunny was in another dimension, watching events through somebody else's eyes. She felt tender and exposed sitting there half-naked surrounded by sweaty, disgusting men preparing to force themselves on her. It had been a dreadfully long time since she had last let a man into her bed. Now, they were going to let themselves in. All five of them probably. Right there, on the rough, dirty ground of the desert.
How long would it take for someone to find her body the next morning? How long before they would even start looking? It wasn't like she'd told anyone she had decided to go for a short patrol, aside from Doc Mitchell, but he was so busy trying to find his patient that there was little chance he'd come stumbling along. And even if he did, she thought dejectedly, there wasn't much that he could do against five vicious former-convicts. A hard tug at her waist forced her back to the present as her panties were violently torn off. The hot desert wind that had begun blowing was cold on her pussy as the two Powder-Gangers hauled her legs apart, the bulge of burgeoning erections apparent in their tattered and dirty prison jumpers.
Lou Eriks thrusted Sunny's stolen drawers into his face and took a long, deep smell. This. This was the most excited he'd been in decades. His whole body was alight with a savage mixture of pleasure and pain coursing from his loin and his bleeding wounds. He realized that he had begun breathing heavy and salivating, a dense sheen of sweat on his brutish face. His heart was pounding, his victims were numerous but none had ever put up a fight quite like this one. His predatory mind was fascinated with this one. He decided he wouldn't kill her. No, this one he would keep; bring her with him back to camp. She would be his and his alone until he had stripped the beauty from her body, torn the life and light from her twinkling hazel eyes. When she was nothing more than a husk devoid of life or feeling, he would throw her to the others and search for a new one.
The bloodied knub of his finger still bled freely. He leaned in and licked the significant trickle of blood running down his palm. The other Powder-Gangers blanched but didn't slacken their grip on Sunny's arms and legs as the giant began slipping out of his jumpsuit, slipping arms out first before kicking off the legs. He stood completely nude in the middle of the desert, the unsightly bulge of his stomach compounded by the numerous open sores and scares that littered his body. As he began approaching, marred hand wrapped about his flaccid dick, Sunny suddenly came thundering back from whatever dimensions she had been exiled to and began to struggle against her captors, managing to loose a foot and kick a Powder-Ganger in the face before he pinned her leg down and one of the men holding her arms slammed his fist into her face twice. The world began to spin for Sunny as she slipped into semi-consciousness. She knew what was to follow, but was numb to the world. Someone else had their head propped up to see the naked giant lumbering towards them. Someone else felt their legs forced open as he approached. Black stars exploded on the edge of her vision as Lou ran a hand down one of her thighs. Her skin crawled as she felt the warm, sticky trail of blood his maimed finger left behind run down her leg before being licked off by the lumbering rapist. She wanted to cry, to scream, to beg them to stop but the strength was no longer in her and the words died in her dry throat. Lou postured up then, taking hold of her ankles, he leaned in close, quivering with anticipation. Sunny felt his hot, foul breath on her body and dark haze that had enveloped her sight tightened.
Maybe its better this way; not to see, not to feel….Will they kill me? Do I want them to? There came a loud growl followed by howls of pain. Sunny fought past the dark haze to pick her head up to see what was happening. Cheyenne had appeared from the shadows and lunged forward, latching her teeth on the nude man's hamstring. Lou staggered back, screaming as Goodspring's deputy tore through the flesh and muscle in his leg. He screamed and went toppling to the ground. As he began to fall, for another shadow in that black night time had frozen. There was a brief flash in the inky blackness of the desert in twilight and a swift, hot wind despite the chill of the desert night came roaring through the darkness. In the instant before he struck the ground, Lou felt the hot breath on the nape of his neck, scratching and tearing before thundering past him.
At this particular time, Sunny felt a splash of something thick and warm. She felt the arms supporting her weaken before dropping her roughly to the stones and dust on the desert floor. She wheezed as she landed on a large, pointed stone and tried to roll off it but bumped into something heavy and soft lying beside her on the ground. She stared at the man. He was alive, but not for much longer; blood was flowing freely from a sizeable hold in his throat. Indeed, the round must've been quite large for much of the man's trachea had been splintered and torn to pieces during the bullet's exit. He was fighting to draw breath around the blood that had begun rushing out his mouth and running down into his lungs as his life bubbled away out the gaping hole in his throat. If she had the strength, she might've stolen the man's club and set upon the others, but as it was she was beaten, freezing, in shock and very much teetering on the border of consciousness. Not that it mattered much; Lou had thumped to the ground and after delivering a swift kick had sent Cheyenne running back into the darkenss and now stared in disbelief at his soon to be dead ally. The other three men quickly moved to scatter, but as one moved to take off into the desert, a round punched clean through his throat in a spray of gore and blood. The two remaining men and Lou took off running and threw themselves to the ground behind a large rock formation.
"What the fuck WAS THAT?!" Screamed one of the Powder-Gangers, fumbling into his grimy pockets for the compact .38 snub nose revolver he carried.
"It's just some prick with a rifle, getta' hold ah' yourself!" Lou whispered, grabbing the man by his collar.
"We gotta stay low, wait for him to get comfy and start crawlin' back to-"
"NO!" The nude giant bellowed, slamming him roughly up against the rocks.
"We're gonna get the bitch, and bring'er back with us." He said calmly.
"What!? Are you outta' your fuckin' mind!? That guy just dropped Anders and Mikey faster than I could fuckin' blink! You think I'm goin' back out there for some broad then-"He was cut off as Lou buried his foot in the man's rib cage and sent him flying from behind the rock formation. As the Powder Ganger flew through the air another two BANGs roared from somewhere in the night, blowing out two gory holes in the prostrated man's chest before he even reached the ground.
"Holy Fuckin Christ! This is it man, this is the Wrath a' God! It's the End Times!" Screamed the remaining clothed Powder-Ganger. With some disdain Lou realized the man had wet himself.
"Oh….shit." He murmured.
"What!?" The Powder-Ganger stammered around his words until he was able to spit them out.
"He…He's comin… Just walkin…Walkin over."
Lou poked his head over the rock and saw that this was true. Walking, almost casually through the desert was a man. His visage was concealed by the thick gauze bandages wrapped about his head and he was bare to his midriff, bloodied wounds from some earlier conflict still visible despite the grime of sweat and dust caked on his body. Trail dust coated his frayed jeans and the rough leather boots he wore as well. In his right hand, smoking at the barrel and glittering murderously in the weak moonlight was a large revolver. It was a black thing, the weapon this specter carried, with silver inlays and groves running the length of the barrel before coming to the cylinder which had gold tracks forming a zig-zag pattern. Its size was almost unwieldy; as it was the weapon ran six inches in barrel length alone, but it had a large stabilizer box surrounding the length of barrel as well.
Lou tightened his grasp on his last remaining ally in this fight.
"Listen'ta me. We're gonna git this guy. We're gonna git'em, we're gonna kill'em and then, we're gonna bring that bitch back to the camp. Just…Just wait till' he gets a lil' closer, you start shootin' an' I'll git'em." The Powder-ganger looked hesitant, but wasn't willing to argue with the naked hulk and nodded in agreement. He took a deep breath, thumbed the safety on his snub nose off and jumped up from behind the rocks, snapping his weapon up and firing three shots. But there was no-one there, the desert stretched onward uninterrupted. There came a thunderous click and the Powder-Ganger glanced down. Jack was seated at the foot of the formation, back against the rocks staring straight up, weapon outstretched in his hands. The weapon and its target were so close the man could read the words Mateba Unica 6 Cacciatore running down the barrel's length.
"Well, did ya-" was all Lou could get out before the night was once again pierced by a vengeful thunderclap. Lou staggered back as he was slapped in the face by a spray of gore as his last remaining companion's head exploded outward. Lou staggered back, his ears ringing from the weapon discharge. Lou didn't believe this to be the wrath of god. No, a patrol from town perhaps or maybe an NCR dispatch but as his assailant scaled the rocks and dropped down on the other side, Lou found his mind changing. The enigmatic assassin walked forward towards his target slowly, Mateba shining dangerously in the moonlight. Lou fought his way back to his feet and stood to face the approaching specter. Blood had spattered across the thick gauze wrapped about his face, adding a grisly shade to the coverings. Lou took a staggered step forward, swinging his paw in a hook. Jack stepped forward however, going limp against the forward moving bulge of the big man's arm and narrowly slipping by the massive fist. He folded in tight against the nude rapist, looping his ankle around the other man's and striking upward with the point of his elbow, sending the ogre tumbling to the ground before springing back up to his feet. The bandaged faced man circled slowly, weapon held tight at his side. The lumbering giant began backing away from his attacker.
"What..what the hell are you?"
Jack said, and continuing . Lou wasn't willing to enter into another fist fight with the specter and found himself inching back as the man drew nearer and nearer. The nude rapist found that the whole world had been turned on its head; instead of the hunter, he was now the hunted. The various scrapes, scratches and wounds he had suffered throughout the night had gone from producing a shimmering wave of ecstasy to one of pain. His finger burned where it had cut off, his ribs and jaw were both pounding and swelling from the onslaught of strikes he had just received from the mysterious avenger that the black night had produced. Jack suddenly leapt forward, springing off his back foot and cocking his free hand back to deliver a heavy handed straight punch just as a piercing shriek rang out.
"OH NO NONONONONONO, ohhhh god no! SUNNY!" Trudy shouted, coming sprinting in out of the darkness to settle on her knees next to her friend.
"Ohgodohgodohgod…C'mon Sunny, wake up, WAKE UP!" She shouted, slapping her friend repeatedly until the hazel eyes set in her head came into focus. When Jack turned his head back to face his enemy he found instead the lumbering giant's fist coming bearing down. The massive paw connected square with his chin and sent the bandaged faced man sprawling to the dirt as the lumbering rapist turned and took off running in to the night. Jack was back on his feet almost as quick however, heavy Mateba snapping up tight in his grip. He centered the running ogre between the tru-glow dots and heaved the hammer back. He hesitated for a moment, target dead center of the sights. His hands trembled slightly as the hammer set into firing position. The bandaged faced man took in a deep breath and finished pulling the trigger. The hammer started falling forward, thundering towards the waiting chamber.
CLICK. CLICK CLICK CLICK. Jack stared in disbelief at the weapon held tight in his grip, its chambers full of empty cases. With an almost inaudible sigh, he stooped down and heft a stone just smaller than his fist and hurled it upward and outward into the night. Turning, he walked slowly back to the rock formation that just moments ago was being used as cover by the remaining Powder-Gangers.
He settled atop the rocks and watched with disinterestedly as Trudy and Doc Mitchell hovered over Sunny. She had returned to consciousness, though for how long was questionable. Trudy stroked the dust and blood from her friend's hair and stifled the tears that begged to run forth.
"Sunny I…" She stammered and choked around tne words in her throat. Sunny loosed a hoarse laugh.
"No worries buttercup." Sunny muttered.
"I'm right as rain on the plain."
Doc. He prepped a sedative and a stimpak before plunging the first into her arm and sending her into a warm doze, numbing her body to fast acting healing of the Stimpak. As she slipped off into the murky darkness that came sweeping forward she stared up at the man seated on the rock formation, cradling the heavy Mateba in his grip.
"H….ey stranger…." She nodded off then. Doc Mitchell turned his head and nearly died of shock when he saw his patient.
"Jack, is that you?"
"48." Said the bandaged faced man, slipping down from the rocks onto the rough sands of the Mojave. It was then that the doctor and Trudy noticed the dead men laying clustered about , big smoking .45 holes blown in their bodies.
"Jesus…Did…did he do this?" She muttered, looking over the bloodied desert specter. He had begun humming a few bars of a song. It was lost on Trudy, but having been a Vault boy, Doc Mitchell knew it quite well. It had been playing during the school dance where he and his wife to be met.
Far away, on a dusty out cropping, the Mysterious man and his lover sat perched on a small outcropping, leering down at the grisly scene through a night scope.
"This…Was not how it was meant to be." Said Miss Fortune in awe struck tones.
"Sunny Smiles was to die and Lou Eriks as well! He could barely shoot straight in my visions, and the 10mm we gave him earlier couldn't possibly be that accurate over such a long range!" The Mysterious Man cleared his throat.
"I… stole Jeremy's revolver from me."
"What?!" Just before I turned him loose, he leapt up, yanked it outta my coat, let off a shot and then took off running towards the Powder-Gangers. I couldn't risk exposing myself to stop him. I hoped it wouldn't change things but…" Miss Fortune ran a finger over his lips.
"Anything can change everything my darling. A ripple in the pond can turn to a raging tidal wave later on if not closely watched….I must meditate on this, divine the next step. But first there is the business in the Capital Wastes to attend to."
"The Jameson girl?"
"Yes. In a week Werhner will start broadcasting his help signal, as we instructed him to. She will come not long after that. We need to lay the seeds of the revolt if our plans for the Pitt are to come to Fruition."
"So then what of the Courier?"
"He will have to stand on his own for now. If things remain unchanged by this night, he will regain consciousness in about a week."
"When will the Powder-Gangers attack?"
"A week after that." Replied Miss Fortune.
"Then there is no time to lose." The Mysterious man and his wife turned and began trekking out towards the vast Capital Wasteland, where the intrepid young daughter of an intrepid deceased scientist was seated in her dingy little home in Megaton. Inside the darkened bar of the Prospector Saloon, a mole rat had begun tunneling its way beneath the saloon, and as it hit one of the foundation studs, the antique radio on the edge of the bar counter fell and bounced twice on the hard wood flooring, coming to life briefly and tuning in to the last station listened to. The smooth, deep voice of Frank Sinatra crooned out until the radio flickered dark once more.
Strangers in the night
Two lonely people, we were strangers in the night
Up to the moment when we said our first hello little did we know
Love was just a glance away, a warm embracing dance away
and
Ever since that night we've been together
Lovers at first sight, in love forever
It turned out so right…. for strangers in the nighttttt…..
