Chapter Twenty-Nine: A Crack in the Surface
Harley
Kennedy cried silently as they lowered Talia into the ground. I think she knew, some part of her was aware of the dangers of the Cove obviously, but she had to have known that someone was going to die. I don't think she knew it would be her Grandma, though. Her small fingers were interlaced with mine and Boone's as we each took turns saying something about mom.
Kennedy struggled to keep her voice steady when her turn came; "I never really knew my grandma or my grandpappy. Before Mommy came along, I had my dad, Zack. He wasn't a very nice man. But, Harley took me away from them, and I had a new home with Talia, my new grandma. I loved her a lot. She liked to teach me things. Like how to read and write. I'll miss her. She meant a lot to me."
Boone was simple and curt, as always, but it was still a heartfelt goodbye, nonetheless; "She was a fiery woman. I wouldn't have messed with her. Not with how good of a fighter she was. She gave her life to save us. And I will never forget that."
And of course, my turn. I wasn't sure what to say or how long it should've been. So I figured I'd start talking, and finish when I felt was necessary. "Talia, Mom, was a great woman. She was stuck in our ways, as a chief should be. As Craig said, she was fiery. She always had the best intentions in mind, even if she came off as too harsh. She always thought of the tribe, of you and I. Even though she didn't like the burden of being the chief…she still took it honorably. There were times when we didn't always get along, or times when she was too stubborn to even bother fighting with. But that's just how she was. And she was stubborn until the last second, demanding to be in the fight even though I asked her to leave. She died a warrior's death. And I will never be more proud of her."
After a while of standing around, staring at her, Victor finally started to cover her up, and we were all on our separate ways.
Boone's arm protectively rested on my shoulders as he pulled Kennedy away from the grave stone and back into Freeside. We decided North Vegas was close to home, and since there weren't a lot of established residents or...anything, really, that we'd use part of it for a graveyard. It was okay with the guy watching over the place - said most of them stayed underground, and squatters would probably be scared away. I offered him protection from squatters and a monthly pension, so long as he kept watch over the graveyard. He turned down the pension, but took up my offer on squatters. I sent a securitron over as soon as we got back.
It didn't feel right. Not having Mom near Dad. I thought of going back, maybe taking mom to Utah. Veronica shook her head - she said we would start a new chapter, here. And then she said something else that knocked me on my ass.
"Aren't you the Chief?"
I stuttered, "uh, I...oh boy."
"Your mom was Chief. She died, so that makes you Chief...right?"
Sure. I nodded. There were only females left now. All of the men died fighting the Legion. There were a few little boys that came back with us. Too young to fight. That meant that we couldn't expand unless we started letting more people in. Which, I guess I was in charge of at this point.
"I know this is difficult," Cass rested a hand on my shoulder, and I instinctively flinched back. I didn't mean to, but she dropped her hand and suggested I get some sleep.
Even though I nodded and went to my room, I knew I wasn't going to get much sleep. Instead, I tossed and turned as I listened to Boone reading poems from A Light in the Attic to Kennedy. His voice was deep and smooth, randomly changing pitches as he switched characters. It brought a smile to my face, despite my mood.
I felt alone. Again. Even though Boone had been so accepting of everything that's happened recently, I still felt as though he resented me deep down for pushing him. Maybe I wasn't giving him enough time. He admitted he wasn't ready to take care of Kennedy, but I was practically forcing him to. It was my fault. All my fault. He was going to hate me. Maybe not now, or even in a few years, but it would happen.
Kennedy burst through the door, followed by Boone, who was making a strange face and chasing after her with his fingers like claws. Her face was red with laughter as she burrowed into the blankets with me. Boone stopped short and stared at me, and then to the bulge in the blanket.
"Didn't a little girl just come through here?" He asked and scratched his chin.
"I'm not sure. What does she look like?"
Kennedy snickered and Boone looked around the room, "I thought I just heard her! She's about this tall. Red hair. Kinda looks like you."
"Well sir, I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Really? Well maybe the claw will just have to take a new victim!"
"Craig Boone, if you tickle me, I swear to God, I'll break you."
He positioned his hands back into claws, and I saw the glint of the ring on his finger. My dad's. My breath caught in my throat. I wasn't sure why. I guess it just surprised me.
"You okay?" He whispered. I nodded and he went back to 'looking' for Kennedy.
Even with the person I loved and the little girl who I looked at as a daughter, squealing with laughter on the same bed as me, I felt so alone. Alone and empty.
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"Hey! You're that courier that's been helping out around here, right?" A black man with a pompadour and a black leather jacket asked. I nodded, despite not feeling like I was helping anyone or anything. "Keep up the good work! The King sends his regards!" He shoved a few stimpacks and caps in my hands. "Make sure to stop by! The big guy wants to meet you!" He yelled as he jogged away.
13 caps. Really? Even if I was dirt poor, what would 13 caps do? I sighed and gave them to the local beggar, a ghoul who called himself Rotface. His skinny, almost fleshless hand reached up to shake mine and I instinctively flinched back again, thinking of the Cove.
"I...I am...I'm sorry," I tried to sputter out an apology and reached out to shake his hand, "last time a guy I didn't know touched me, I..."
He nodded, knowingly, "sorry to hear that. But hey, you gave me 13 caps...wanna hear 13 tips about Vegas and the surrounding area?"
"Sure," I sat down beside him. I was expected at the Old Mormon Fort soon, but Rotface looked like he could use a friend and I needed to just sit back and listen to some nonsense. I took a seat beside him on the hard, rocky ground.
"They say that a lone courier broke into the 38 and killed Mr. House." That brought a smile to my face. At least Rotface seemed to be the only person who didn't know me just from Mr. New Vegas running his mouth. "What I should've told you first though, is that Freeside is run by a pack of yahoos called The Kings. Their leader...oddly enough calls himself The King."
"Yeah I just ran into one of them. Haven't had the pleasure of meeting with The King yet."
"He's trying to prevent an all-out riot between the locals and the squatting NCR."
"What do you mean?"
"You'd have to ask him for more details. All I know is that he doesn't appreciate the NCR squatting around. Getting into fights with the locals. That kinda stuff."
"Maybe I'll have to meet with him sooner than I thought."
"It's all up to you, pal. Anyways,I heard that there are some customers over at the Wrangler asking for some...strange requests. Like ghouls. Was thinking about applying myself, sexy beast that I am." I chortled at his comment, but he continued, "I think this is number four..." I sat and patiently listened as he told me about Jacob Hoff and Pacer being addicts, about how House had "rehabilitated" three tribes and made them into the Families that helped run Vegas. He told me he saw The King's dog at the Old Mormon Fort and how it seemed to be sick. He said that I shouldn't expect to get on The Strip if I'm not rich and I don't know the right people, or else the "metal murder machines" will stop me. He told me some stuff I already know about The Chairmen, and NCR trying to take over New Vegas. We talked for about an hour before I noticed how late I was.
I apologized when I got to The Old Mormon Fort, Julie just handed me a clipboard and told me to follow Arcade Gannon. What the hell is this? Some kind of internship? I know about medicine, and I can do some shit on my own. Looking down at the clipboard, I saw there were mostly NCR squatters in need of care - just like Rotface said.
To be honest, I wasn't sure what Arcade looked like, though I remember Boone saying he had treated me once or twice. I was probably passed out any time he was in the tent, though. On the paper on my clipboard, there was a small note in the corner, saying that Arcade was more of a researcher than a doctor. So maybe they wanted me to look after him? Why would I be hanging out with a researcher when they needed a doctor?
"Patient: Leonard Bigsby. NCR squatter. Room A3. Complains of various ailments such as fractured wrist, concussions, and the flu. None of which has been confirmed by a doctor. Seems to get hostile when asked too many questions." Great, they stuck me with the most difficult patients. I looked at the numbers on the tents and entered A, and the beds inside were labeled was 1 2 and 3. I found Leonard curled into a ball on his bed, fitfully tossing around in his sleep. The other two patients in the room stared at me as they sat at a card table in the center of the tent.
"Miss, you're not gonna like waking him up," The one warned.
I poked him with my foot. Nothing. I took Romulus out, unloaded him, and started smacking Leonard with him. He woke up, ready to spring and attack, until he saw Romulus. Sitting back down, he ran a hand through his matted hair.
"They can't get regular doctors close enough, so they send in armed mercs?" A bark of a laugh escaped his lips, "you don't look like much."
I reloaded Romulus and brought a chair over to the bed. Straddling the chair, I used the back as a rest for my clipboard and looked at Leonard. "You can make this easier, if you just let me look at you."
He shook his head, crossed his arms and stuck out his lip, like a pouting three year old. "An' why should I do that?"
Shifting Romulus more towards him seemed to get the point across. He at least uncrossed his arms anyways. "Give me your wrist," I held out my hand. He plopped the right wrist in my hand, and from what I could feel and judge by his reaction...there was nothing wrong.
"Are you...faking being sick to sleep in a bed?" I asked quietly.
Leonard looked over to the two guys at the table, and then back at me. A single nod. Sighing, I dropped his wrist and nodded towards the door as a "get out." His eyes shifted from me, to the others in the tent, and then to the door. He was planning something.
"I don't know what you're thinking of doing, but you might not want to," I said, shifting in my seat. His hand was slowly inching towards his pillow, what he was after, I'm not sure. I didn't let him get that far before tackling him to the ground.
"Let me go, you crazy bitch!" He kicked and punched and screamed. Under his pillow was a small switchblade.
"You were gonna stab me?"
"Do you know what these locals put the NCR through?! They won't let us have simple food and water! They put a man at the water pump and charge us to use it! Anything we grow here in Freeside, The Kings say it belongs to them, and they take it. They tax everything extraordinarily high while we don't even have a place to stay! The Old Mormon Fort is the only place where I have shelter and water."
I was shocked. How long had this been going on? Why hadn't anyone said anything sooner? Sure, I didn't always root for the NCR, but they were men and women, some good, some bad. They needed food and water, too. I just needed to find out how I was gonna do that.
"Who's in charge of the water pump?" I asked.
"One of The King's men. Tapper, I think his name was."
"Look, I'm gonna write down here that you have a concussion. I can't say how long they'll keep you, but I'm gonna try to work this issue out."
"That's what they all say..." He mumbled as I stepped out into the hot sun, ignoring his comment. At least there was a breeze - the tent was too stuffy for my liking.
"Hey, I told you to meet with Arcade," Julie scolded as she briskly walked past me.
"I don't know who that even is..."
"Tall, blonde man."
"Okay. Tall, blonde man," I said, turning around to run right into a tall, blonde man.
"Oh hey, so you're Harley?"
Holy shit. Dude's like 7 foot tall. "Yeah."
"Okay, let's go look at some patients," He said, pushing his thick black glasses further up his face.
