Chapter Summary: Beth intends to track Benny down at Fortification Hill with Boone, but her head injuries catch up to her.
Chapter 8: The Weight
Beth tapped the table next to the ace of hearts and four of diamonds in front of her with her finger. The dealer flipped over another card, the six of diamonds. Flipping over his hidden card, the dealer then stood at seventeen.
There weren't any delivery jobs available from the local Mojave Express office, but the courier was making up for it. The stack of chips next to her grew, making her smile as she took a sip of her cold sarsaparilla. She never drank alcohol when she gambled.
"Hey, Evans!" a voice called out behind her.
She glanced toward the source of the voice, then looked back to the table. The dealer dealt her two more cards: the king of clubs and the ace of diamonds. "Make it quick, Nash. I'm on a hot streak." More chips were added to her stack. She gestured with her hand not to deal to her again and she swiveled around on her stool.
The elderly black man hurried over and held out a small package to her. "Glad you stuck around. Here. Got a delivery for you to take to New Vegas."
"You said you didn't have any more deliveries. This just come in?"
"Nah, the courier who was supposed to take it turned it down. Seemed to recognize your name on the list and said you should take it."
Her nose wrinkled. "Huh. That's odd." She only knew a couple of other Mojave Express couriers and neither of them ever turned down work.
"Yeah, I asked if he was sure, since the caps were good. He said, 'Yes, let Evans carry it.'" His voice deepened in imitation. "Real dire. Like, I don't know...the Wasteland would sort you out or something." He shook his head.
With a scoff, she took the package from him. "It hasn't so far. He probably heard about the deathclaw problem up by Sloan and didn't want to go around the long way."
"Well he's done working for me," he remarked with irritation, crossing his arms over his chest. "If you hadn't stuck around, I'd been in a real bind. I hope the Divide skins him alive."
"If he's foolish enough to go out there, I'm sure it will." Giving a small laugh at his statement, she opened the delivery slip and raised an eyebrow. "A poker chip? They don't have enough of those in Vegas already?"
Nash shrugged. "Got a bunch of packages like that this mornin'. Some dice, a chess piece, a little roulette wheel. All going to Vegas."
"Why not just have one courier take all of them?" Moving these small packages at all, let alone like this, seemed like a complete waste of money.
"Nope. Robot who hired us specifically said each needed to be taken separately."
"A robot?"
"Yup. I dunno, it's strange, but the caps were good enough, I didn't ask questions." He pulled out a bag from his pocket and handed it to her. "Here's 250 caps now and there'll be another 250 when you get it there."
"Thanks." She dropped both the bag of caps and the package into her pack, then raked the accumulated poker chips from the table into her hand. "I'll cash out and be on my way."
"You want some of Ruby's casserole to take with ya? She just made a fresh batch this mornin'."
Beth suppressed a grimace at the offer of the poisonous dish. "No, thank you. Too...spicy for me. I'll just grab something when I get to Goodsprings."
"Alright, just watch out for those deathclaws."
"Eh, don't worry. Nothing I can't handle."
With a quick stop at Mick and Ralph's to restock their ammo and get some repairs for their gear, the companions were soon back in the Wasteland headed towards Fortification Hill.
Boone had noticed some changes in the Courier's manner since the fight at The Tops. She seemed more quiet and distant than before. For extended stretches, she would just stare off into nothing and when he spoke to her, it would take a moment to get her attention. Her eyes seemed unfocused and her aim was off, as well. He saw her take a shot at a molerat and miss by at least a foot.
At first, he thought it may have been med-x or that she was distracted by the various new developments in her quest for vengeance, but he was starting to worry it was more than that. He had seen soldiers he served with display similar symptoms after a significant head injury. Maybe that doctor in Goodsprings didn't "fix her right up" as much as was thought and the fighting since had only made things worse.
As they walked, he abruptly asked, as casually as he could, "Hey, you think you should get a doc to look at you, make sure your head's still okay?"
"No, why would I?" Her tone was flat and dismissive.
"You haven't seemed yourself since we left The Tops."
Beth's mouth tightened in a sneer. "How long have we known each other? Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do."
"Maybe." He was still unconvinced. "Still wouldn't hurt to-"
"Drop it!" she snapped.
He put his hands up to show her he got the message.
They walked along in silence for another mile or so before she staggered and then stumbled forward, her pack falling off her shoulder. Boone reached out to catch her, but wasn't quick enough and she collapsed to the ground.
"Beth!" he cried out, falling to his knees at her side, his heart suddenly pounding. Dropping his bag, he rolled her carefully onto her back, cradling her head in his hand. Her focus seemed to fade in and out as she lingered in a semi-consciousness state. "Beth! Shit!" He reached into his bag and pulled out a stimpak, uncapped it with his teeth, and injected it into her neck as he had seen her do. Luckily, years of experience as a sniper gave him a steady hand, even in dire situations. "Come on, come on..." After a moment, she started to come around. "Beth? You still with me?"
She gave a low moan, struggling to keep her eyes open, looking at the syringe still in his hand. "I don't think a stimpak's going to do it this time." Looking up at him with unfocused eyes, she grasped his arm weakly. "I'm sorry I snapped at you."
"It's fine. Don't worry about it." He pursed his lips and gently dusted the sand from her face.
"Boone?" she said with a sad smile. "Whatever happens...I'm glad we met."
"Yeah, me too," he said through clenched teeth, returning her sad smile. "Come on, we need to get you some help." He took a pistol out of his pack and tucked it in his waistband. Bending down, he pulled her to her feet and draped her arm over his shoulder. Then he lifted the rest of her onto his shoulders. Basic training taught him that carrying someone like this took much less effort than using his arms and it left one hand free.
The New Vegas Clinic was the closest place with a doctor that he knew of, If he hurried, he estimated he could have her there in a little over an hour. Seeing their packs lying on the ground, he knew he would have to come back for them, since any extra weight would only slow him down. She might be pissed if her stuff was stolen, but he reasoned her life was worth more than anything she could possibly have in there. The obviously beloved .45 she had recovered from Benny's suite was still holstered at her side, so there was that, at least.
He held his own pistol in his free hand in case of trouble, silently hoping he wouldn't need to use it. Running as quickly as he could across the desert highway, his heart beat heavily in his chest with a feeling of dread. He knew that if they were ambushed by anything much more formidable than a gecko, they likely wouldn't survive. As he ran, he scanned their surroundings for any movement or signs of trouble, but didn't see any. Luckily, they were pretty far from Legion territory and frequent NCR patrols kept the roads around Vegas clear of most other dangers.
The weight on his back felt heavier with each stride. His legs started to burn, he grew short of breath, and his mouth felt as dry as the sand under his feet. The short time traveling with the Courier hadn't made up for the previous sixteen months where his main physical activity was walking to and from the sniper's nest. Still, he pushed through. He wasn't going to let her die just because he was out of shape.
His dread began to subside when he saw that they were getting closer to their destination. Finally reaching the door to the clinic, he pulled it open and called out with all of the breath in his lungs, "Doctor! I need a doctor here!"
"Dr. Usanagi!" one of the guards yelled.
A young Asian woman in a lab coat came rushing from the back and Boone hurried toward her. Seeing the woman being carried, she gestured to one of the guards to get a gurney. "What happened?"
"Head injury...gunshot...few weeks ago," the sniper said between labored gasps as his heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't remember the last time he ran like that. The guard came out with the gurney and Boone bent down to carefully place his companion on it. She was unconscious, but he was relieved to see that she was at least still breathing. Wiping away the sweat dripping into his eyes, he took a deep, ragged breath. "Earlier today, we were attacked...been worse since then...collapsed about an hour ago." He felt dizzy and unsteady on his feet, so he leaned back against the wall.
The doctor took out a flashlight from her lab coat pocket. Prying open Beth's eyelids, she passed the beam of light back and forth. "How was she treated for the prior injury?"
"Doc in Goodsprings...been using stimpaks and med-x since. Some mentats, too. She denied it, but I think the headaches were pretty bad." He shook his head, wishing he had insisted that she get checked out long before now. "I gave her a stimpak after she collapsed, but it only seemed to help for a few minutes."
"Alright." She put the flashlight back in her pocket. "Let's get her in the back." The guard helped the doctor push the gurney back through the door. Boone started to follow, but the doctor stopped him. "Sir, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to wait out here. Don't worry, we are going to do everything we can."