TWELVE
I-15, near a stone quarry
June 30th
11:25
They'd made good time, going back North past Primm, up the I-15, sleeping in a damp yet oddly comfortable cave, then moving on, skirting Goodsprings (they'd agreed on passing by to say hello after the Ringo's-caravan business was dealt with) and moving up the Interstate until they saw a stone quarry in the distance. They'd gone up the mountain, passing by a small village at the foot of the hills cradling the quarry, and now all they had to do was get across the quarry to where the remains of Ringo's caravan lay.
"Let's take it carefully from here on out," Ringo cautioned quietly, kneeling behind a mound of stones to survey the situation. They were on the crest of a hill, and the canyon lay in the valley below, a stone pit with a large wooden quarrying tower jutting from the center. "We need to crest the quarry, going into the pit itself is suicide."
"Because of the Sarlacc?" En asked.
"Worse," Ringo whispered. "Deathclaws. Take my word for it, those things will rip all three of us to shreds before we can say 'Jackson's chameleon'. We do not want to tangle with those."
"I wholeheartedly agree," Sunny said with a nod, squinting at the quarry pit. "I saw a deathclaw once. Tore some Legionaries armed with shotguns to shreds and could still dance the hornpipe like the best of them."
"Of course, one must admit that Legionaries are worthless good-for-nothings," Ringo pointed out. "But still, an angry deathclaw equals certain death for us. Well, except maybe dear Cheyenne here, who just might be able to outrun them."
Hugging the dog, Sunny said fiercely, "Cheyenne won't run away, she'll protect us to the death."
An uncertain whine was all they got from the dog.
"So deathclaws huh?" En asked. "The New Arroyo survival manual said nothing about those, though it did have many interesting sections about how to avoid flea bites, and what leaves are the least painful to wipe your ass with."
"Seriously?" Sunny asked, her face scrunched up.
"I shit you not."
"The deathclaws are in the pit itself," Ringo explained, ignoring En. "So all we need to do is keep to the edges, and be quiet."
"Should be a walk in the park," Sunny commented.
Ringo turned to En, looking amused. "Being quiet also means not talking, think you'll be able to handle that, miss En?"
"Believe it or not," En said with a grin, "I can shut up if I have to."
"Mm." Ringo cast his eyes back at the quarry pit. It seemed pretty deep, at least twenty metres, and while the edges were slopes, they were covered with sharp stone, so sliding down those would mean having your skin flayed off and ending up in the pit as a red, shredded carcass. En figured if you were gonna fall, better to plummet down a mineshaft and break your head on the bottom than slide down those quarry walls and die by getting pieces of you torn off by those sharp stones until the stripe you left on the slope was red enough that you died from blood loss. Still, the ledges didn't seem too narrow or unstable, so all they had to do was not fall over without reason. Going around the quarry wasn't really an option, since the pit lay firmly tucked in between hillsides which were too broad to go around, and too dangerous to scale.
"Those ledges look solid enough," Ringo said, repeating En's thoughts, "but still, be careful, because they can slide out from under your feet real fast, and if you go down those slopes…"
"…you'll provide this quarry with a flashy red sports stripe." En completed.
"Exactly."
"Deathclaws don't see too well, but their hearing and smell are very acute, so be quiet. And make no mistake, they can scale these walls, and faster than you think."
"After you, white knight," Sunny encouraged him.
With a businesslike nod, Ringo stalked off, sneaking over the narrow ledge on the edge of the quarry pit. The entire distance was about a hundred metres, and then there was a break in the hillside where they could pass through. Why Ringo had taken his caravan over this route, En had no idea.
"You next," Sunny whispered. She probably wanted to keep En in between them so the least experienced one could go in the middle. Fine by her.
Carefully, she set her boot down on the compacted stones that formed the ledge. Ringo had made a good distance already, creeping forward slowly but surely. The footing underneath was much more treacherous than it looked, and several times, En felt the surface give way under her boot, and she had to reposition her foot to keep the ledge from crumbling away underneath her feet. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the midday sun felt leaden on her back and head, but she ignored it as best she could. The slope on her right side looked hungry, as if it wanted to rake its stone teeth over her body and tear off as many chunks of her as it could. As she looked down, even though she knew she shouldn't, she saw three deathclaws sitting on the bottom of the pit, in the shade provided by the wooden tower. Two of them were considerably smaller than the third, probably young. En had never seen real-life deathclaws before, and even from the distance, they looked scarily big and strong, with short legs, but powerful arms ending in wicked claws. Ringo had noticed them too, and turned back to her, a finger on his lips. Yeah, Ringo, be quiet, she knew.
She permitted herself a quick look behind her and saw Sunny slowly and carefully edge forward as well, Cheyenne negotiating the narrow ledge without any difficulty, occasionally looking up at Sunny to make sure everyone knew how she couldn't understand why it was so difficult for people who weren't dogs. En pointed down into the quarry pit to make sure Sunny had noticed the deathclaws as well. Sunny squinted down, then looked back at En and nudged her chin at her, as if to say, "What?"
Of course, the Schofield Kid couldn't see the three shapes, so En held up three fingers. Sunny squinted at those as well, clearly unable to see how many En was holding up. En muttered a "Jesus Christ," to herself and jabbed her fist at Sunny three times, each time holding up one more finger. "One! Two! Three!" she mouthed at Sunny, though that was pointless as well. But the fist pumps had done it, En could see Sunny's face immediately becoming worried, then composed again. She showed En a thumbs-up and resumed creeping, as did En.
Ringo was almost across, his foot briefly shooting out as the ledge crumbled into small stones underneath it, but thankfully he kept his balance, and the noise was kept to a minimum as well. After turning his head to En and grinning sheepishly, he stalked on. And as En smiled at the stupid embarrassed face he'd made, the fireflies came again. Oh fuck, not now! Not now, god dammit!
The shrieking in her ears came before the headache this time, and En had to go to one knee to keep herself from falling over, right into the quarry pit. Her left hand scraped across the rock wall, seeking a handhold but not finding one, and the pain in her head became so sharp she could no longer see. Her stomach contracted and her head was struck with a sudden, hard bout of dizziness.
Oh crap I'm gonna fall in because I can't keep my balance and I'll end up like a shredded piece of meat on the bottom and the deathclaws are gonna eat what's left shit god dammit my head!
She struggled frantically to keep her balance, but she felt herself swaying and wobbling in her kneeled position. Her head still pulsed so hard sweat broke out on her skin and her face felt like it was going to be pounded clean off. Keeping her balance was impossible, and she felt her body overbalance, her weight going right as it dragged her to the gaping hole beside her, set with thousands of jagged teeth.
Hands caught her right before she went down, and she heard Sunny hiss, light years away, "En! En, for god's sake, are you alright?"
She couldn't reply, only wait, relatively safe in Sunny's arms, until the seizure passed. Eventually it did, fresh sweat breaking out on her skin with every heartbeat, and the pain in her head gradually lessening, beat by beat. At length she could open her eyes. She felt drool on her lips and chin, but that was the least of her concerns. Cheyenne was licking the back of her hand, out of concern or to lick up the salt on her skin, it didn't matter.
"You okay, sweetie?" Sunny asked, only miles away now.
"Yuh…yeah, I'll be okay," En slurred. "Man, of all the times…"
"Mm," Sunny whispered. "Looks like Ringo was right about those things coming up at bad times. Can you move on?"
"I… I think so."
"Then let's go. I'm getting antsy with those deathclaws down there."
En cast a quick, pained glance down into the pit. "Yeah they're… they're definitely agi… agitated. We need to get going."
"I'm letting you go now, grab onto me if you think you'll fall, okay?"
"… kay."
Sunny's grip slowly became looser, until her hands had released En entirely. She was still a bit wobbly, but she could move on. She had to. She didn't know if those deathclaws could see her so high up, but she sure as Hell didn't want to take the chance. So she slowly, uncertainly put one foot before the other, clearing the distance to Ringo, who already sat at the end of the ledge, his hands outstretched to grab her when she came close enough. As she did so, Ringo's hands closed around hers and he pulled her to solid ground.
"Damn, that was close for a second there," he breathed. "Hadn't seen you were having another one, so I was unable to come to your aid."
"It's okay," she panted as Sunny joined them on the pass between the two rocks. "But we're not taking this path when we come back, that okay?"
Sunny nodded. "Fine by me. Damn, that was a close one."
En briefly gave Sunny a hug. "Thanks for coming to help back there. I'd have been dead if you hadn't…" she shuddered at the thought of the sharp stones hacking off her skin.
"That's alright, sweetie. Had to rush over there though, lucky we didn't both take a nose dive into the cheese grater."
Which was exactly why En was so thankful. It must have been an immense risk for Sunny to actually bolt to her without crashing down herself, or without being so noisy the deathclaws heard. Big sister complex or not, Sunny deserved all of En's admiration.
"Let's go ladies," Ringo told them. "Best to get as far away from those deathclaws as possible."
They went on, through the pass, a narrow natural road enclosed by almost vertical rock ledges, which were unscalable, and at times scarily high. This pass must have been cut out by erosion over the years, En figured. Ringo had explained it was a short cut to the Red Rocks, where his caravan had come from on its return trip back to the Crimson Caravan HQ. The caravan had been planned to take the long way around, but since they were on foot, this path had been shorter, cutting off a long detour and merging with the caravan path a ways further. It had been close to that merger that his caravan had been hit by the Powder Gangers. Ringo had never explained what exactly had happened and why the shooting had started, but En figured he'd tell them if he thought it was opportune.
Two figures could be seen a ways further, making their way towards them through the pass. They didn't look very threatening, without weapons in their hands, but you never knew with people here. The sun was in her eyes, shining brightly into the pass, so En could only see the outlines of the two.
As they came closer, Ringo hugged the wall on the right side to let them pass, and Sunny and En did the same.
"Khans," Ringo said. "Not dangerous unless provoked. Just let them pass and it'll be fine."
"Sure," En replied.
The two Khans had reached them, and the one in front nodded his head in greeting. Ringo replied with a business-like, "Morning," even though it was already past noon.
The second Khan, a female, gave Ringo a brief smile and said, "How are you," in a strange accent. That accent! As the female Khan's eyes crossed En's, both of their mouths fell open, and simultaneously, they drew their guns and aimed them at each other's faces.
"Whoa, whoa!" Ringo shouted, drawing his own weapon, as did Sunny and the other Khan. "What the Hell? We're just passing through here! En, put that thing aw – "
Sunny shouted over him, at the female Khan, "Put it down! Put it down, right now!"
Cheyenne barked like mad.
"You put it down, tourist fucks," the male Khan shouted back at her.
En and the female Khan ignored the shouting and just stood staring at each other. The others all fell silent, nervously holding their guns, waiting for En or the Khan to speak and at least tell them why they'd both pulled their weapon at the same time, the Khan's submachine gun dwarfing En's Beretta.
"No way…" the female Khan with the tanned skin breathed. Her face was completely mortified, and all the colour had drawn from it, making her dark skin deathly pale.
En just remained silent, her concentration on the other's face and on her own gun, unable to find words.
"We… we…" the other woman gasped. "We killed you."
Only Sunny uttered a sound. "Wh… whuh?"
"You're dead," the female Khan breathed, her face still terrified. "We shot you. Buried you. How…"
At last, En was able to speak. "You were one of them. That night." She shoved her gun closer to the woman's face and felt her lips curl away from her teeth. "You gave him the gun!"
It was her alright, the Khan that had been present at her execution, the tan-skinned girl with the goth boots, the dark purple double mohawk and the strange accent.
"She's one of them?" Sunny shouted. "One of the worthless pieces of shit that shot a sixteen-year-old kid in the head?"
"What the Hell?" the male Khan barked. "What the Hell, Melissa?"
"You were… it was just a job," the Khan (Melissa, her name was apparently) explained, stammering and panting. "It was business. Nothing… nothing personal."
"Bullshit," En hissed. "You gave that bastard in his checkered suit his gun so he could shoot me in the head! Don't tell me that's business!" She let one hand go of the gun and pointed at her temple. "Look at this mess, god dammit! Look at it and tell me that's business!"
"Sloppy shit, Melissa!" the male Khan yelled. "Papa hates sloppy work, dammit, especially when it's something… shit, something that would be very bad publicity if it comes out! Fuck!"
"Bad publicity?" En shouted, not knowing what she was hearing. "All you have to say is that it's bad fucking publicity?"
"Alright, alright," Ringo tried to calm the situation. "Let's talk about this rationally. Everybody put their weapons down and – "
But Ringo's plea was futile. Faster than En or anyone else could react, Cheyenne leapt up and set her teeth into the wrist of Melissa the Khan, the enormous force of the bite taking the strength out of the woman's fingers, and they lost their grip on her submachine gun. Sunny was the first to react, whacking the other Khan in the jaw with the butt of her pistol as his shot went off, the bullet impacting into the stone wall. Ringo threw his weight against the Khan woman, bowling her over along with Cheyenne, and pistoned his fist into her face, knocking her lights out.
The Khan Sunny had smacked with the pistol staggered back, obviously knock-out from the blow. "Go," Sunny said calmly. "This doesn't concern you. Go or I shoot you where you stand."
"But Melissa – " he began, sounding drunk from the blow.
"She's got a lot of explaining to do," Sunny told him. "Now leave."
After a moment's hesitation, the Khan staggered off, still holding his face.
"Tie her up," En ordered Ringo as he clambered to his feet after the body-slam and Cheyenne went to her master for shoulder-pats.
"Got something better," Ringo grunted, setting his knee down on the Khan's shoulder, slinging his backpack off, and stuffing his hand in it, bringing it back up holding a pair of handcuffs. The Melissa-woman was only half-conscious and no longer struggling, her right wrist bleeding from the bite Cheyenne had given it. It was a serious wound, but didn't look like it could lead to dangerous exsanguination. Ringo pulled her arms behind her back, slapped the cuffs on her wrists, and pulled her up by the collar of her leather jacket. Being pulled up seemed to jerk the consciousness back into her.
En still held her pistol, and she aimed it at the woman's forehead. "On your knees."
"Listen – " she began, still looking disoriented.
"I said on your knees," En shrieked, as rage took hold of her. "Where is he?"
"Wh – "
"Where is he?" she shouted again, setting the muzzle of her Beretta against the Khan's forehead.
"Puh… Paid us after the… after it was done," the woman stammered, her eyes screwed shut and her mouth twisted in fear, but only slightly. This was a Khan, and from what En had heard about them, they weren't cowards. "I have an idea of where he's gone, but I won't tell you if you're going to shoot me anyway. Listen, I wasn't – "
"Shut up!"
She continued regardless, still with her eyes closed, "Listen, let me explain, just let me expl – "
"Did you let me explain?" En screamed. "Did you let me say anything? You didn't even ask my name! You threw away the picture of my parents like it was trash!"
"Wasn't… wasn't us. He took your wallet."
"I don't fucking c – " En shrieked, but she broke off as a pounding, hammering blast of pain smashed through her head, so painful her vision instantly blacked out and she wobbled and fell to her knees, in front of the woman she was about to execute in the same way they'd shot her. She heard herself let out an inarticulate yelp and her hands reflexively took hold of her skull, her pistol still in her right.
"En!" she heard Sunny scream, panicked. "En, are you alright?"
The blasting pain lessened, and as it went, so did the hysteria that had taken hold of her. She didn't know if she was still intent on shooting this woman, but at least she could think more rationally now. Ringo had set his pistol to the back of the Khan's neck, to keep her from trying anything. En got up, despite the pain in her head, and lifted her pistol again.
"For what it's worth," Melissa said, her eyes open and fixed on En. "For both my conscience and for you, I'm glad you survived."
Shit, she actually meant it. En's jaw worked furiously as she tried to decide on what to do, conflicting feelings racing through her aching head. Part of her wanted to shoot the woman, same way they'd shot her, but what gain would that be? That all her hatred for the bedridden days and the headaches, the seizures, the nausea, would be driven out of her head as this woman's brains were driven out of hers. But despite the hate for this woman and her accomplices, she knew she'd hate herself even more if she executed a defenceless person, even one who'd tried to kill her. But oh, how she ached to!
"I… I don't know what to do," she said in a trembling voice.
"Eye for an eye," Sunny said casually, stroking Cheyenne's head. "She's one of the reasons you have these seizures, one of the reasons your head'll be scarred for the rest of your life. Besides, you can't let her live now, she knows you're alive and that sooner or later, you'll be a threat. Shoot her."
"If you shoot her though," Ringo remarked, "Then you lose every hope of finding the man who was behind all this. Shooting her now will only give you the quick, fleeting satisfaction of revenge, but you'll be left hollow inside, take that from me. You're a good person, En. Don't let these evil feelings of revenge take that away, don't let them turn you into a cold, evil, heartless woman that shoots people on their knees." But then he added with a shrug, "But I understand your feelings, and respect your decision. Do as you will."
Breathing hard through her nose, En kept the pistol aimed at the Khan's forehead. She wanted to blow her brains out, to see her twitching and gurgling on the ground as the life drained out of her, but Ringo was right. Kill her now and she'd forever lose the chance of finding the man in the checkered suit. Her hand trembled. Fuck, she wanted to. Her finger curled around the trigger, and as it did, the Beretta's hammer moved slightly back. Melissa the Khan lowered her head and accepted her fate, but for some reason, as En saw the black stubble on her scalp where she'd shaven her head, the dots that were all hairs, all a part of this woman, the humanity of this person was driven into her. God dammit, this was a human being, and no matter what she'd done, she was a living, breathing person with hopes and dreams and emotions and parents and maybe even children.
You take away all he has. All he's ever gonna have.
Letting out the air that had built up into her lungs, she lowered the pistol. "Get her on her feet please, Ringo. We're taking her prisoner."
Like En, Melissa let the held-up breath in her lungs escape with a long, ragged sigh.
"Not sure if that's a wise thing to do, sweetie," Sunny said carefully.
"Me neither, but if I shoot her, then… I'm no better than they are."
Ringo nodded. "A cliché as high as a house, but still absolutely true. You made the right decision, miss En, even though this woman doesn't deserve your mercy, you deserve to know you did the right thing."
"So we bring this vermin along then?" Sunny asked. "We'll be lucky if she doesn't kill us in our sleep."
"To be honest," Ringo grunted as he pulled the silent Melissa to her feet, "I don't think our new friend will under-appreciate the incomparable act of mercy that's just been bestowed on her."
The Khan was still silent, but En could tell that she knew. She knew how thankful she should be that En hadn't applied the same judgment on her that she'd gotten on that hill overlooking Goodsprings.
"I don't think promises mean that much to human waste like you," Sunny bit at the woman, "but I'd still like to hear you make one. Promise right now, that you won't try any funny business. And if you're planning on making a false promise, remember that Cheyenne here is faster than you could ever be."
The woman clearly felt humiliated and dishonoured, and her shame and despair stood clearly on her face. "Yeah, alright. Promised, if you let me live. Now please, I feel broken enough as it is."
Sunny stuck to a simple, "Good."
"Ringo, could you take a look at her wrist, though?" En asked him, not only because she assumed he'd be better at that sort of thing, but also because Sunny, like En herself, was too hateful of the woman to actually give her any care. "Don't want her bleeding out or dying from infection."
Silently, Ringo undid the handcuffs on her wrists, as Sunny kept her pistol firmly trained on the woman. Ringo loosened the buckles of the black leather braces she wore and applied disinfectant and a bandage to her wrist. "That'll fix you up."
"Thanks," Melissa muttered quietly, looking away. It looked like it took an effort to say.
"Here's what we're going to do," En said curtly, snatching up Melissa's dropped SMG. "We're going to take care of some personal business, and then you're going to take us to the place my friend in the checkered suit is holed up in. For now, you're staying in handcuffs."
"If it's alright with you though," Ringo suggested, "we can cuff her hands in front of her. That wrist will give her tremendous agony if we do it behind her back."
"Yeah, sure," En conceded. "But keep an eye on her."
"Will do. You can hand me the submachine gun if that's alright. I could use something better than this SIG."
Silently, En gave him the weapon when he was done applying the handcuffs to Melissa's wrists. "Walther MP," he remarked, turning the weapon over in his hands. "Bit old, but it'll do the trick."
Melissa didn't comment.
"Let's go take care of Ringo's business now," Sunny said curtly, clearly not at ease with En's decision to being the captured Khan along.
They silently went through the pass, and emerged on a broad hill trail, clearly worn by brahmin hooves and tyre tracks from the wagons the two-headed cows pulled.
"It's just a ways further," Ringo remarked, pointing in the direction of the lowering sun. A look at her Pip-boy told En it was about five in the afternoon. Ringo had taken point with the cuffed Melissa in front of him, her own submachine gun pointed firmly at her back. En and Sunny walked a ways behind.
"Are you sure about this, sweetie?" Sunny asked quietly.
"I don't know, Sunny, I really don't," she replied. "I might be making a huge mistake, but I just… couldn't shoot her."
"Mm," Sunny admitted. "Maybe best that you didn't. I'd have shot her without a moment's hesitation, but… I guess it's too late for me to try and hold on to my innocence."
"Aw, come on, don't get all dramatic on me," En said with a grin.
Sunny chuckled, "Alright I was being a bit theatrical. But it's true though. You're still young, and… well, it was the right decision not to kill her, I suppose."
"I think so too."
"But having her actually tag along… I don't know."
En thought for a second. "I don't like it that much either, but it's the best thing to do, I think. I need to know where that guy in his checkered suit went. I didn't shoot her, but I can't let her go either. So this is best. Plus, we might need her to track him down after she told us where he was headed. If he's moved on or something."
"Mm. I'm still not comfortable with this. She tried to kill you once already."
"Hey, I got you and Cheyenne to protect me, right?" En said with a smile. It was more meant to cheer her up than anything else, but it seemed to do the trick. Sunny smiled back and said, "Damn straight."
"And besides, she certainly looks like she's sorry."
"Muh. I'll believe that when she's shown us the way and we can dump her without getting our throats slashed."
"I'm sure it won't come to that."
With a grin, Sunny concluded, "Well, unless you start working those charms that get you beat up in bars again."
They'd reached a hilltop, and Ringo abruptly stopped. "Take her," he told Sunny, waving his gun at Melissa's back.
Silently, Sunny obliged and drew her own pistol, keeping it on their captured companion, who squatted to relieve the pressure of the long walk from her knees. En was surprised to realize she actually felt sorry for the girl with the two mohawks, taken prisoner by people she didn't know. Sure, she'd done something terrible, but En could only surmise how awful and alone she must feel now. Still, she ought to be lucky she was still alive.
Ringo, in the meantime, had walked to the highest point of the hilltop and stood looking down, his hands in his sides. En checked if Sunny had their prisoner secured, and then went to stand next to him. The hill overlooked a gentle valley with a road running through it. There was some vegetation here, mainly dry shrubs and withered little trees. In the middle of the road lay a looted brahmin cart, but there were no bodies.
"What the Hell?" Ringo muttered. Then he walked down the hill, into the valley.
"We'll be right back, Sunny," En called back, and followed Ringo down the slope.
"Chipper and Tina were lying right here when I last saw them."
Indeed, there was dried blood on the rocks, but no bodies. And as En turned her head, she realized why. "Ringo, look."
Two mounds of rocks had been piled up at the foot of a large boulder, each mound set with a wooden cross. "Maybe someone already…"
"Yeah," Ringo said, walking to the graves. "Looks like someone took care of my friends already." He squatted down at the wooden crosses. "Wonder who it was."
En laid a hand on his shoulder. "Doesn't really matter, does it?"
"I would've liked to thank the man."
"Or the woman," En couldn't resist adding.
With a chuckle, Ringo corrected, "or the woman."
"But hey," she told him, "it's definitely nice to see that there are still good, honest people around, right?"
He rose and said, "Absolutely." Then he looked around, walked over to a broc flower plant and picked two flowers, carefully placing one on each grave. "Looks like someone better than me already took care of you both. Sleep well, my friends."