Sandra shoved her way to the front of the group, stopping before the suited stranger who now had Vulpes at gunpoint.
Vulpes stood board stiff, the stranger's arm locked around his throat, his hat having gone slightly crooked, though his expression appeared surprisingly unfazed. Vulpes merely raised his brows, glancing to the side where he felt the breaths of his sneak ambusher gently coasting just past his ear.
"You chose the wrong captive," Vulpes murmured eerily. "Out of everyone here… you signed your death certificate going for me."
"Oh—you're hardly in a position to get fresh with me, weirdo," the stranger laughed, tapping the gun to his temple. "I'm not worried about a helpless captive being pissy with me."
"Then you better be worried about me, shitlord," Sandra snarled, taking a wide step forward. "Because if anything happens to him—I'm gonna cut off every fucking appendage you have as slow as I fucking can."
"Ooohoho," the stranger cackled. "Quite the terrifying presence you bestow upon me—but despite your fervent instincts of retaliating with blind intimidation, I'm afraid I can't just back down. You see, Mr. Sellers was in possession of a key that contractually belonged to us. I suppose he neglected to mention that when he hired you to deliver it to Mr. Bradley. This is a problem."
"Ah… yes," Vulpes sighed. "Syndicate. Of course it's syndicate…"
"Be quiet," the stranger snapped at him, jamming the gun into his head even harder.
"Hey—Jimmy Jerkoff," Sandra gripped, snapping her fingers and waving for the stranger's attention. "Why don't you get away from him and fight me one on one? Be a man. Do it the right way."
The stranger tilted his head, smirking smugly. "Oh… you think I'm gonna do this the easy way for you."
Sandra stared at him, her mouth unraveling into an unfeeling half-smile.
"No… dumbass," she hissed. "I'm trying to make it easy on you."
Everyone fell silent—Sandra and all her companions seeming to focus their attention on Vulpes.
Vulpes noticed their stares, releasing a sigh and flashing a cold little grin.
It happened faster than a blink of the eye—Vulpes dropping down and shooting a leg out—sweeping the stranger's legs from beneath him as he fired off a shot in alarm. The stranger's bullet shot through the balcony above and penetrated the edge of the roof—and Vulpes spun around at once, stomping on the stranger's wrist and shattering the bones inside with a sickening series of snaps—instantly removing the gun from his grasp.
The stranger let out a tortured scream of sheer agony—and all the sudden, Vulpes was standing over him, his foot planted on the man's ruined wrist as he lay on his back on the concrete, now helpless and unarmed, trembling and gaping up at all of them in terror.
"Don't—don't!" the stranger pleaded, vigorously shaking his head.
Sandra stood by Vulpes's side, their eyes an equal icy blue as they glared down at the man without care.
"I told you," Sandra shrugged, grabbing her shotgun and aiming down at his head. "You should've fought me instead of Foxxy. You might've stood a chance against me."
BANG.
Sandra fired—and the stranger's head exploded in a sickening red burst, crimson splattering back across the concrete as the rest of his body fell still.
A long, tense silence fell upon them all, everyone standing in or outside of the doorway and staring down at the body gravely. A few of the townspeople peeked out their doors, glimpsing around to investigate the noise, all of them slipping back into their homes and choosing not to involve themselves with the altercation that just transpired.
Sandra and Vulpes traded eyes for a second, then turned to the others, and Bradley met the courier's gaze.
"We… are in a storm of fuck, my friend," Bradley remarked, nodding down at the fresh corpse. "If that guy was syndicate… then he was powerful and connected. Fuck… my… life."
"Well…" Sandra mumbled, tearing her eyes from the body and giving Bradley a shrug. "I don't know what the syndicate is… but if they're this damn worried about you having the key, then this inheritance of yours must be pretty worthwhile."
Bradley nodded mildly. "Yeah… yeah, you got a point. Fuck… we're already on their hit list. No reason not to see it through now. We've got nothing left to lose."
"True," Sandra agreed, turning to her other friends. "What do you guys wanna do? You all get a vote. You wanna stick with this, or not?"
Niner, Arcade, and Vulpes all exchanged faces.
"Hell… y'know I'm down to win some riches," Niner said. "You even gotta ask?"
Sandra nodded, turning to the doctor.
Arcade sighed and nodded sideways. "Well, as… much as I don't like deliberately hunting down death and danger… I know what you're gonna do, and I'd hate to leave you all to do it without the team medic on-board."
Sandra gave him a nod, then faced Vulpes.
Vulpes released a cloud of breath, crossing his arms and giving her a serious stare.
"Whatever you decide," he disclosed. "The choice is yours."
Sandra smirked, wheeling around to Bradley again. "Then we're gonna go hunt some treasure."
"Well… all right," Bradley said, returning her smirk and nodding definitively. "Then we're in this for the long haul, danger be damned."
"Yeah. Let's go upstairs," Sandra suggested. "I have a room here. Let's get some sleep before we head off."
They all agreed, marching up the stairs one by one. Bradley paused, staring down at the body they were abandoning, then resumed his pace to the second floor.
"We're just gonna leave that there, huh," Bradley mumbled, watching as Sandra fumbled to unlock her room. "Just gonna leave a rotting corpse outside for everyone in town to wake up to tomorrow…"
"Yeah," Sandra replied with an odd nonchalance, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. "Novac doesn't care. They'll drag that thing off and dump it for the geckos. Doesn't matter. C'mon."
They all stepped inside, seeing that Cliff Brisco had supplied the room in their absence. The last time Sandra was here, she paid Cliff to haul a couple of spare mattresses into her room, and it seemed he'd followed through with her request. Now, there were three mattresses complete with blankets and pillows spread out across the room, as well as the original full-sized bed and the couch beneath the window. There was just enough room for everyone in the group to get a decent night of sleep.
Scar curled up on the rug before the couch, Niner plopping down on the couch and extending his arms behind his head. Sandra shut and locked the door, Arcade claiming the bed in the corner while Vulpes remained standing, leaning on the wall and folding his arms near the door.
Sandra hovered by the door for a moment, looking to Vulpes and feeling hesitant.
"You good?" she whispered.
Vulpes narrowed his eyes at her, scoffing out a faint little laugh. "I'm surprised you feel the need to ask."
Sandra shot him a caustic smirk. "Well… forgive me for giving a damn, smartass."
Vulpes choked out another soft chortle, Sandra wandering over to the full-size and sitting on the edge of the bed. Bradley chose to claim the bed nearest the full-size, sitting on it and removing his gun from his person. He placed it in his lap, staring down at it and releasing a heavy exhalation.
Sandra glanced over at him, sighing with disdain.
"Sorry," she said. "I know this ended up being a mess…"
Bradley glanced up at her, then back down at his rifle. "Eh… it's not your fault."
"Oh," Sandra uttered. "That's a change."
"Yeah, well… we're both just thrown into this shit," Bradley remarked. "Just gotta make something of it however we can."
Everyone settled in their resting spots, though were yet eager to sleep, not so soon after the frightful encounter they just endured. For the most part, they were seated in a wide, crooked circle around one another, almost as if they all planned to trade stories.
In fact—it wasn't long before they did just that.
Niner began ranting from his spot on the couch, telling stories about his time with the street gang he'd joined before wandering to the Mojave. This sparked a story from Bradley, wherein he told everyone all about his time as a teenager in Reno, when he worked for one of the crime families. Evidently, Bradley was once in loved with the wife of one of the wiseguys, a beautiful woman named Jess who had smooth, silky hair, a wonderfully unforgettable scent, and a sleek black tribal tattoo crawling down her left arm. Sandra was so intrigued, she began to ask for details, remarking on how cool she found the tattoo to be—and shortly thereafter, Sandra, Bradley, and Niner combined their efforts, all three of them urging Arcade to share a story until the doctor finally gave in.
Sighing with reluctance, Arcade told a story about a lover he once had before joining the Followers, an outgoing lunatic to contrast how down-to-earth he himself was. He ended the story with a bittersweet conclusion, stating that his old lover wandered to Reno to seek a more exciting life.
The only person who didn't share any stories, of course, was Vulpes. Throughout the entire evening of chatting and playing the getting-to-know-you game, the ex-frumentarius was the only one who remained silent, standing by the door, arms crossed, and keeping a vigilant watch over everyone, prepared to launch his displacer glove if anyone dared to breach the room.
Though thankfully, nobody did. No more syndicate goons arrived in Novac, and the long, fun conversations worked well to ease everyone's nerves from their recent close call. At long last, around midnight, they all began to lie down, drifting off to sleep one by one until the conversations all faded to silence.
Vulpes was the last to sleep, designating himself to keep watch for as long as possible. He was no longer standing now—instead sitting by the door, his back against the wall and his arms still crossed—but he maintained his position by the door regardless, occasionally resting his head back, drifting off, closing his eyes, then shaking himself awake.
"You're gonna get us killed if you don't get some sleep."
Vulpes blinked himself awake for the fifth or sixth time, squinting at the mattress across the room—where Arcade was lying on his back, upturning his head and returning his stare.
"I fail to see how," Vulpes mumbled, stifling a yawn.
"Well… lemme paint a pretty picture for you," Arcade proposed, rolling onto his side and speaking in a hushed tone so not to wake the others. "We rush into combat tomorrow… we all end up fighting for our lives again… and then Mr. Fox is caught off-guard, because Mr. Fox didn't think to sleep the night before."
Vulpes stared at him. "You'd be surprised how little sleep I need to get by."
Arcade narrowed his eyes caustically. "And you'd be surprised how easy it is for a person to die from a lack of sleep."
Vulpes turned his head, paying the doctor no further mind.
Arcade continued to eye him. "I get you're paranoid, and I get why. But you're not gonna do us any favors if you drain yourself the day before we head off to a deadly treasure hunt."
"I'm keeping watch," Vulpes grumbled. "Stop pestering me."
"The door is locked, smart one," Arcade quipped in response. "We're all gonna hear it if anyone tries to come in—and we're all gonna react accordingly if they do. Go to sleep."
At that, Arcade abandoned the conversation, turning over and returning to his rest.
Vulpes remained awake for a short while longer before he finally fell asleep as well.
The next day, after fashioning a fresh breakfast for once and trading stories while they ate, Sandra and her companions headed off, driving the bus toward the remote Linus Caverns.
It took a while for them to find what they were looking for, Niner occasionally letting off pot-shots and killing ferals in the far distance while they all aimlessly wandered the desert. But then—Bradley stumbled upon a metal hatch, leading to an area underground.
So, they all climbed inside one by one, leaping off the ladder and landing in a metal hallway of an underground bunker. At first, it appeared as if the place had been untouched—but after Sandra opened the first door, she found that the broken entrance led into a deep, earthy cave.
They all warily stepped out of the metal enclosure, weapons at hand as they scanned over the darkened cave interior beyond. Sandra remained in the lead—Bradley by her side—keeping their rifle and shotgun aimed outward as they scanned over the dark path ahead.
"Whoa whoa—hol' up," Niner whisper-yelled, halting mid-step and narrowing his eyes at the darkness. "Whassat? Somethin's shimmerin' real weird-like over there."
Sandra turned back to him, then followed his trail of vision over to the nearest corner—where she spotted an odd, shiny shimmer in the air just before—
"JESUS!"
A nightkin blasted into view—raising a rebar club before—
BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG.
Sandra and Bradley opened fire in unison—riddling the nightkin with bullets and ripping through it like tissue. The monster crumbled, dead before it collapsed to the ground.
BA—CHINK.
Everyone whipped around, seeing that Vulpes had let off a hard punch with the displacer glove—a burst of blue light illuminating the caves before another nightkin hit the rocky wall hard, its chest cavity caved in as blood splattered across the earthy floor.
There was a pause, everyone facing one another briefly before glancing around in search of more, though the danger seemed to have passed.
Sandra let out a long, relieving breath, trading glimpses with Bradley before the two resumed their pace into the nearest—
ZZZT!
Another stealthboy dissipated—and a grand beast appeared before them, a supermutant nightkin hybrid larger than any of them had ever seen.
Sandra's heart might've stopped—but she and Bradley fired once again, hammering their triggers as Niner and Arcade began to shoot from either side of them. The great beast swung its massive club blindly at them before staggering back in its pace, the ground giving a slight shake as bullets and plasma penetrated the monster's thick skin, burning holes and blasting blood until the giant mutant finally lost all energy, its boulder-sized knees buckling as it began to stumble back and fall.
Booom.
The cave gave another tremor as the beast fell to its back, lying sprawled across the dirt path as yet another shaken silence fell upon the group.
"Fuck me… I hate caves," Bradley muttered exasperatedly. "Everything's always lurking in the dark, waiting to bash your skull in or rip your nuts off."
"Yeah… no shit," Sandra replied with a breathless laugh. "But I think… I think it's over now. I don't feel any giant footsteps anymore…"
"Hope to God you're right," Bradley remarked, the two of them slowly leading the others past the dead giant. "Now what in the fuck is this…?"
They all emerged in a circular clearing, a campfire to the side, a concrete platform directly ahead, and a large bunker door visible just behind it. On top of the concrete platform was a long, stone structure, almost like a table—and on it was a skeleton, laid out neatly alongside a sniper rifle, a pile of decaying flowers and three rotting Brahmin steaks placed tactfully around it.
"Huh." Bradley made a face, staring at the strange scene and releasing a faint laugh. "Three steaks and a sniper rifle. That's what I want at my funeral."
Sandra snickered, and the two of them pressed on, marching past the grave and heading for the metal door. When they opened it, they were relieved to find nothing more of interest inside, no supermutants or nightkin—only the skeletal remains of those who died inside long ago. They all maneuvered around the metal hallways and passages with no further issue, aside from the occasional killing of a rat or radroach.
And at last—Sandra opened the final door, finding an abandoned office inside, an Enclave locker beside it, and a single red keycard on the desk beside the terminal. She moved forward, grabbed the keycard, and smiled, turning to Bradley and holding it up victoriously.
"All right… you got it," Bradley smirked, taking the card and grabbing her nuka-red pip-boy. "Now we just plug this in and see where… ahh, how do you use this fucking arm of yours?"
"Right here," Sandra instructed, pointing to the slit-shaped slot at the bottom of her pip-boy.
Bradley nodded and inserted the card. The pip-boy made a beeping noise, and the screen flickered over to the map, a digital square appearing around a place near Nellis Airforce Base.
"Huh. Next place is in BFE… east of Nellis," Bradley observed. "Well… after surviving the nightkin revival, I think we can handle it."
"Yup. And hey—if we take the bus out now, we can park and camp for the night and head to the next vault first thing in the morning," Sandra knew. "Let's go."
Feeling rushed with success, Sandra grinned as she led all her followers back out of the Enclave bunker. The remainder of the afternoon was spent driving across the Mojave, and the sun began to set just when she brought the large vehicle to a slow stop just outside of an abandoned shack, careful not to take it any father. From what she'd heard, the inhabitants of Nellis might unleash a hellfire of missiles toward the bus if she dared to drive on from here.
"Well… I think we've earned our rest for the night," Arcade commented, peeking out the side window and eyeing the vacant shack. "And… I think a couple of us can sleep in there, just for the sake of not crowding each other. We've got an extra person now, and there was hardly enough room for us in here to begin with. No offense, Bradley."
"None taken. I don't wanna wake up spooning your ass, either," Bradley snarked, making Sandra choke on a laugh.
Arcade and Niner chose to seek shelter in the shack for the night, and Scar curled up beside the hammock above the bus's side windows before drifting off to sleep. Vulpes might've chosen to sleep in the shack as well, but he hesitated near the door, peering back at Sandra and seeing that she didn't plan to leave the bus.
In fact—Sandra and Bradley were immersed in conversation now, still seated in the two front seats and sniggering as they swapped stories from their pasts.
Vulpes eyes them for a second, then moved over to the farthest bed in the corner of the bus, choosing to sleep nearby rather than leaving for the shack outside. Still feeling tired from his previous night of vigilance, he drifted off to sleep rather quickly, and now, only Sandra and Bradley remained awake, sitting up front as night fell entirely outside.
"Maaan… I had dumb dreams about that shit, too," Bradley continued on, telling another story about Jess and cracking open a beer as he spoke. He leaned far back in his seat, propped a leg up on the dash, and rested his head back to the cushioned seat, staring upward and appearing rather thoughtful. "I dreamed about killing her husband, running off with her to start over somewhere… but God knows that shit never happened. I wrote her a letter before I left Reno, asking if she'd come with me. She never wrote back. I figured she moved on… kinda think I oughta do the same…"
"You talk about her so much," Sandra observed, taking a sip of wasteland tequila and folding one leg atop the other. "You must've really cared about her."
"Hey… you're the one who keeps asking to hear this shit," Bradley replied with a laugh. "I didn't imagine it'd be interesting to hear. And I was right."
"Nooo… I'm interested," Sandra replied honestly. "I'm just saying… every time you start a story, it always ends up drifting back to her somehow."
"Mmm. Yeah." Bradley sighed, took a swig of beer, and let out another breath. "Well, it was… back when I was young. Young, dumb, and full of cum…"
"Whoa," Sandra took back. "Gross."
"Oh, sorry—full of fucking semen," Bradley snarked, both of them laughing. "Yeah. It was back when everything you feel is… amplified. I guess that's why it left the impression that it did."
Sandra nodded, her eyes drifting down to the open space between the two front seats, where her old combat shotgun was propped up against the bus's stereo. She stared at it, her expression slowly growing distant, her gaze landing and remaining on the tiny, crooked name that was etched onto the weapon's side.
Bradley caught her lingering stare, glancing down at the gun, then back.
"What about you," he uttered, giving her a nod. "Back then, when you were around that age… you have anyone leave that same impression on you?"
Sandra hesitated, sighing and facing Bradley again. "Yeah… but it was kinda different. Would you judge me if I fell for a ghoul?"
Bradley scoffed out a laugh, nodding sideways and taking another drink. "I've seen way weirder shit than that. Hell, I've seen fetishes like that. Having a crush is probably the most innocent version of that shit in existence."
Sandra let out a chuckle, nodding and leaning further back. "Yeah, well… I came from a vault back east, and… I was pretty shell-shocked. Fucking traumatized and rattled to the bone… almost died like five times before I stumbled into a place called the Ninth Circle. That's where I met Charon. He was a tall, red-looking dude, just standing in the corner and working like a bouncer… but I bought his contract, and he came with me. After that… everything flipped a complete 180. Everything got way… way better."
Bradley gave her a curious squint. "Yeah? How so?"
Sandra laid her head back against the corner of the driver door, releasing a deep cloud of breath.
"When it was just me alone… everything was all danger and fear," she remembered. "Being shot at was terrifying… instead of a challenge. Travel was traumatizing… instead of an adventure. And being around people just scared me to the core… instead of inspiring me to make any friends. But, after he was with me… the two of us combined, we could just… take on everything. Everything went from fear to fun all at once… and I could never thank him enough for that. He didn't even know what he did for me. He never even knew what he…"
She trailed off, her smile fading.
Bradley surveyed her.
"I'm guessing… this guy isn't around anymore," he guessed, glancing down at the inscription on the shotgun again.
"No." Sandra was glaring into the darkened windshield now, her visage seeming to harden into a colder, stonier one. "He's not. He died saving my ass… from the Enclave. Same damn way my father died."
There was a tense silence following her words, Bradley suddenly looking uncomfortable, scratching his cheek and readjusting in his seat.
"Well… I'm not gonna be a dick and say 'I know how you feel,' because that's bullshit," Bradley muttered. "I just lost my dad, too… but I never knew the guy, so… it's not the same."
"No… it is the same," Sandra murmured distantly. "I was nineteen when that happened. Me and my dad had a whole future planned, and we got robbed of that. I had all that time with my father taken away… just like you did."
Bradley was quiet for a moment.
"I didn't think of it like that," he uttered.
"Well… sorry," Sandra sighed. "I probably shouldn't have brought it up, then… my bad."
"Eh. I've been through hell and back, same as you," Bradley replied dismissively. "We're both well past the point of getting torn the fuck up over one isolated tragedy or another. We'll be all right, and we'll get by, just because we have to. Plain and simple."
"Yeah… that's true. Besides… I have a hell of a life now," Sandra said with a smirk. "I don't have anything to run away from anymore."
"Ye'ap… and if all goes well, I'm gonna have a hell of a life soon too,' Bradley disclosed, clinking his beer to her tequila bottle and taking another swig. "Life's finally giving us both a damn break. About fucking time."
They finished off their drinks, falling silent for a second.
"Hey," Sandra said, rolling her head to the side and facing him again. "What did she look like?"
Bradley met her stare, revealing an odd little smile before turning to the windshield.
"Honestly… she looked like you," he told her. "Except less… hardened to the wasteland. You look like you're a free-flowing wanderer… like you just belong out here. And Jess, well… she looked like she could've been a clone of you living the exact opposite lifestyle. Someone meant to be on a throne and stay there, attending big meetings with fat cats and indulging in the finest wines and caviars known to man. She wasn't meant for the wasteland… she was meant for a place of social politics and high-dollar comfort. She had that same damn hair, too. That same… dark crimson, deep blood red that shines like scarlet in the right light. Same color as yours, only… not cut short and combed over. Hers was long… billowed down her shoulders and fluffy as all hell. And that damn hourglass figure put every other hussy in Reno to absolute shame. Those dark dresses she'd wear hugged that body in the most perfect way, too. Man, you making me talk about this… you've got me all…"
Bradley slowed to a stop, turning to her and meeting her gaze, his expression softening.
"Worked up," he mumbled.
Sandra returned his stare, feeling a faint flutter in her chest and instantly losing her words. She gulped, glanced away, and grasped the edge of the seat, preparing to stand.
"Sorry," she said. "I think I need some sleep… so… g'night…"
"Yeah, me too…"
Suddenly, Sandra and Bradley moved to stand at the same time—nearly bumping heads and halting all at once. Now, they found themselves standing in the tiny space between the seats—their bodies hardly an inch apart, Bradley standing a bit taller as his face hovered dangerously close to hers, his warm breaths cascading past her soft, pale cheek.
Sandra's heart skipped a beat, spotting the look in his eyes and inhaling sharply.
Bradley leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers in a sudden longing kiss. Sandra's heart jolted yet again, excitement shooting up and down her like lightning, and her eyes began to drift shut, losing herself to the moment…
Then, she blinked and moved back, separating from him and releasing a shaky breath.
They stared into one another, then turned their heads, gazing across the bus and eyeing the bed in the corner, where Vulpes was sleeping on his side, facing the wall and lost to his slumber.
Sandra and Bradley met eyes again, and she managed to give him a smile, then stepped past him and headed toward the back.
"Sorry," she murmured, peeking back at him and stopping at the bench. "I can't…"
"No… I know," Bradley understood, nodding and heading for the side door. "It's cool. Listen… I'm gonna go take a leak before bed. If you hear gunshots and screaming outside, don't let me die mid-piss, all right?"
Sandra laughed and nodded. "Okay. Night."
"Night."
Bradley pushed the door open and stepped off the bus, and Sandra laid down on the bench across from the corner bed, resting on her back and releasing a long, anxious breath. Her heart continued to pound with a sense of nervousness she was no longer accustomed to, and she ran her hands down her face, forcing her breaths calm as she gently turned her head.
She stared at Vulpes's back while he slept, her visage heavy with emotion and exhaustion.
Then, Sandra faced the ceiling again, sighing and hoping to sleep. She didn't know exactly where she stood with Vulpes now, but she knew for certain he wouldn't like the idea of her hooking up with anyone else. Perhaps she'd have to try and figure out exactly what was going on between her and the banished frumentarius sometime soon…
But, as her tiredness crept up on her, her stresses dissipated as she drifted into a restless sleep.