Chapter 25
Then and There
The long, grand journey of the lone wanderer began with a simple cry from a friend.
From the moment Amata shook her awake, Sandra embarked on a journey she could've scantly anticipated—following her father across the desolate wasteland and meeting countless new faces, friends and enemies alike. But the dangers of it all shocked her to her soul, and the fear never dissipated until she met the fateful red ghoul in the corner of the Ninth Circle. From then on, the dangerous travels became fun adventures, and the challenges seemed more like a long, fun game to play. Smiling childishly through each and every endeavor across the Capital Wasteland, Sandra thought it would never end—until the battle for Project Purity came, and she watched her father die before her very eyes, witnessing Charon's horrific death shortly thereafter. It broke her in a way that couldn't be repaired, and despite Mr. Burke's pleas for her to stay, she simply couldn't—after the long game had finally come to an end, she marched out of the Capital Wasteland alone, absorbing a grave, hard lesson as she did.
War never changes—so she'd have to change instead.
And change she most assuredly did.
Sandra couldn't have known how long she walked, or even where she was going. Her first dangerous encounters involved bugs and creatures, which she killed with ease—it wasn't until she came under fire from raiders when she nearly died on the road. But thankfully, a passing caravan happened upon her, tending to her wounds and carrying her along for the ride. The caravan happened to be traveling west—and so, Sandra chose to do the same. After her wounds healed and she went her own way, she continued west, the sun seeming brighter and the rads seeming lesser with each passing day. She developed a routine of riding with caravans, working as a gun for hire in exchange for transportation. It wasn't until she reached the outskirts of Denver when her luck finally ran out.
Amidst an area ravaged by raiders and Legion, Sandra found herself wandering alone for several days—or even weeks, she couldn't know. Time passed in a blur as the gnawing emptiness of her stomach soon became a dull void, her mind falling blank as the shock of starvation worked to erase her thoughts and awareness. Yet still, she pressed on—despite facing a yao guai and nearly being mauled to death, carrying numerous injuries as well as a slow-growing insanity spawned from hunger—the wanderer simply continued to wander.
By the time she reached the outskirts of Denver, her mind was far gone from her, her leg bleeding for a reason she couldn't remember, her pip-boy 3000 cracked down the screen, powered off and no longer functioning. Nevertheless, as she staggered up the hill and gazed upon the apocalyptic city of Denver, she smirked, patting her pip-boy and glancing over to the side.
"Charon… look," she smiled mindlessly, swatting loosely at the city. "The map says its… ooo, it's Oasis! Ha! I told ya' it was real! Where's the water…?"
The spot beside her was vacant, as it had been for a long while. Yet still, Sandra could've sworn Charon was standing just beside her as always, crossing his arms over his leather armor and wearing his usual grumpy expression.
Then, Sandra's dreary gaze wandered downward, landing on a small campfire just down the hill. Several people were gathered around the campfire, a few tents set up as one of the strangers hovered at the edge of their hillside, watching the city closely through binoculars.
"Food!" Sandra beamed crookedly, nearly losing her balance and thrusting a finger down at the campsite. "Thrash… sick 'em! Ha, I'm just kidding, don't… whoa—!"
Her foot slipped—and Sandra fell down the hill, tumbling and fumbling awkwardly until she landed painfully at the edge of the campsite.
All the Denver townspeople spun around, eyeing Sandra and shooting several bizarre looks at her. A few of them raised their guns, Sandra staggering to her feet and laughing stupidly as she combed her crimson hairs back.
"Oh—no, Charon!" she gasped suddenly, reaching over and appearing to restrain an invisible man. "Don't shoot them!"
The Denver townspeople exchanged baffled glances with one another.
Sandra lowered her hands, instantly forgetting about her imaginary companion as a heavenly scent crawled up her nose. She meandered forward, following her nose to the campfire, where a rotisserie was spinning a huge chunk of meat over the fire, cooking a thick helping of Brahmin meat to perfection.
"Uh-uh, no," a skinny man barked, stepping forward and thrusting his rifle at her. "That's our food. Go on somewhere. You ain't welcome here."
"Easy, now, Rickey," a humongous burly man said, approaching the skinny man named Rickey and gently lowering his rifle. "This girl's just lost and hungry. Ain't you, girlie?"
Sandra frowned and nodded pitifully. "We haven't eaten in… ahm… I forget how long…"
The burly man approached, offering her his large, meaty hand. "My name's Cliff, girlie. Nice to meetcha. Who're you?"
"Oh, ah…" Sandra swayed in her stance, flicking her hairs aside and returning his handshake. "My name's… Sandra… I think. And this is Char…"
She turned and glimpsed around, only just realizing that her friends weren't there.
"Oh," she sighed. "Never mind…"
"Cliff, make her go away!" Rickey snarled. "She's gonna blow our damn cover, here!"
Sandra gulped and glanced around dazedly, seeing numerous guns, duffle bags, and even a loaded fat man sitting all around the campsite, many of the strangers grasping their guns tightly and looking like they were prepared for a fight.
"What're you guys doing up here…?" Sandra mumbled.
"Well… ordinarily, we live up there," Cliff explained, pointing to the distant buildings of Denver. "The street's overrun with crazy animals half the time, so we all live up top. But we're hunkerin' down here for the time being… since we're being invaded by—"
"Cliff!" Rickey hissed.
"Rickey—I'm gonna shove my boot up your ass if you don't shut your face," Cliff griped in response. "This girl is just a random harmless traveler. She ain't a threat to us, and she certainly ain't tied to the Legion."
"The who wha?" Sandra uttered thoughtlessly.
"The Legion," Cliff repeated. "They're invading our city right now… tryin' to pacify it. But we evacuated the women and kids, and the rest of us are waitin' here for a chance to ambush 'em."
"Oooh," Sandra grinned and nodded. "Cool…"
"You're welcome to stick around and have dinner with us… so long as you don't cause a ruckus up here," Cliff offered, motioning to the logs around the fire. "We're tryin' to keep a low profile up here, y'know. Thankfully, they can't see the fire from the streets down below, so we can still cook somthin' to eat…"
Sandra nodded again and smiled at him, wandering over to the logs and plopping down on the closest one. The men around her continued to give her wary glances, but she didn't notice; Sandra spent nearly a full minute staring into the sizzling Brahmin, tempted to reach into the flames and risk third-degree burns just for a single, savory taste.
Cliff sat beside her, and Sandra's gaze ventured off to the side, eyeing all of the townspeople's belongings and wondering just how much food and water they had between them. God, what a goldmine…
"Oh shit," the man with binoculars gasped, turning and waving at Cliff frantically. "They're here. They're here!"
"What—already?" Cliff yelled in alarm, leaping upward and staring over the hill. "They can't be. We set up a barricade—and set traps—they can't be."
"They must've been tipped off that we knew," Rickey growled, pulling the lever of his rifle back. "Get up! Let's go! Move, move, move!"
Suddenly, the numerous men leaped to their feet brandishing their guns, rushing down the hill in formation just as they'd planned to do. Cliff hesitated, turning to Sandra and gesturing for her to stay put.
"Stay up here and stay out of sight, girlie," Cliff advised. "Y'hear?"
Sandra nodded quietly, and Cliff grabbed his shotgun before marching off with his people.
Once the campsite was cleared out, Sandra sat alone, simply sighing, gazing into the Brahmin meat and desperately praying for it to cook faster.
Then, a familiar, dreadful ambiance caught her ear.
The sounds of warfare.
Sandra's heart jolted painfully—and a million frightful instincts fought to take over her.
Somehow, she found herself standing without forethought, wandering over to the side of the hill and gazing upon the city of Denver from up high.
And there before her, a city of fire met her eyes—a vast, endless ocean of crimson-clad soldiers marching the streets of Dog City Denver, some of them setting fire to everything in their path while others tore the rabid dogs apart with machetes and rippers. Far down the distant main road, between the raging fires and the various hound slaughters a dog-headed man led the charge, jutting his hand outward and calling out for all his followers to hear.
"PACIFY IT ALL!" Vulpes ordered amidst the roaring of rippers and the howling of hounds. "BURN IT TO THE GROUND—KILL ALL WHO RESIST AND CRUCIFY THE REST! ONWARD, BY THE GLORY OF MARS—ONWARD!"
The Legion obeyed—and as the fires grew and began to engulf the city, Cliff and his men sprang out from behind the nearest rocks and trees, opening fire on the Legion with haste.
Gunshots penetrated the air as Legionaries began to fall—some returning fire while others ducked for cover, a few charging with melee weapons as the Denver townspeople slowly moved in closer, beginning to encircle the Legion at the edge of the main road.
And just as it came to be—the civilians clashing with the tribe—the sounds of warfare suddenly felt too familiar to endure.
Sandra gazed upon the fires and bloodshed in horror, her mouth drifting agape as her broken mind fought to make sense of the chaos—but adrenaline kicked in, as did the fear spawned from the terrors in the Capital Wasteland—and now, as she stood over the city and watched the hell unfold, she could've sworn it was the main road leading between Project Purity and the Citadel, a place ravaged with Enclave, with laser fire and power armor—explosions and bullets, a horrific burning in her wrist as she nearly met her death—
"No no no…" Sandra stuttered, shaking her head and stumbling away. "Not again…"
Vulpes suddenly realized that he and his Legion were becoming surrounded—he motioned to his nearest followers, wordlessly ordering their next move before Vulpes himself darted off the street at top speed. His followers began to spread apart—encroaching on the Denver attackers from numerous sides while Vulpes climbed up a nearby hill, pausing briefly to observe the war from a perfect vantage point.
"Heheheheh…" Vulpes rasped with a cold smirk, wiping his face and glaring downward through his darkened goggles.
Sandra backed away farther, staring into the dog-headed stranger from behind and feeling as if she was utterly doomed—she glanced around frantically, and then, her eyes landed on the very weapon that had saved her from the Enclave the first time.
Bracing herself, Sandra found a sudden nerve—grabbing the fat man, perching it on her shoulder, and approaching the edge of the hill with a brisk stride.
Vulpes whipped around, only just noticing her presence—his smile vanishing and his heart plummeting into the pit of his stomach.
"Don't you dare—don't you dare!" Vulpes yelled—but it was too late.
"Not again!" Sandra glowered, firing the fat man and sending a mini-nuke soaring through the air before her.
Sandra and Vulpes watched from up high as the small a-bomb landed in the heart of the warfare down below—a wicked explosion blasting from the core of the battle, ripping bodies apart and spreading the fires to every visible inch of the city. The ground shook as the Legion and the townspeople died a horrendous death at once, a massive mushroom cloud reaching into the sky in the wake of the sudden devastation.
The wind kicked up suddenly—as the aftershock was traveling up the hill at a rapid pace.
Sandra dropped the fat man and glanced over at the stranger beside her—and just before the explosion caught up with them, she reached out, her pip-boy shielding the man's head just before both of them were thrown off their feet—landing several yards away and fumbling down the hillside afar.
The pip-boy shattered into thousands of pieces—ripping off her arm and vanishing from her person. Sandra couldn't have noticed—she hit the ground hard somewhere far from the city and the campsite, lying crookedly in the grass under the night sky, the dog-headed man sprawled overtop of her.
Vulpes grinded his teeth, slowly hunching upright and glaring down at the girl beneath him, his goggles now hanging off the side of his head. His piercing blue eyes read over the half-conscious girl, examining her as if he'd never seen anything quite like her before.
"You… little… lunatic," he grunted.
He inhaled several rushed breaths, his eyes traveling downward and fixating on her right arm. The device she wore on her arm was now gone, presumably destroyed. If she hadn't reached out to him in that moment, his own skull might've suffered the same fate.
Vulpes huffed angrily, standing and cracking his neck. He marched back up the hill, crossing the empty campsite and surveying the decimated scene below, seeing no movement whatsoever apart from the still-crackling fires that now ravaged Dog City Denver.
"Damn," Vulpes exhaled, frowning heavily and ripping the broken goggles from his head.
His entire Legion patrol was gone in one fell swoop—and now, with all the Legion's Brahmin and wagons destroyed as well, he was stranded alone in a strange land, no transportation and no allies nearby. He couldn't have known just how long he fumed at the broken city, his mind racing, wondering what he could hope to do now.
Then, he heard a shuffle of movement behind him.
Vulpes jerked around quickly, but nobody was approaching him. Instead, the red-haired stranger was hunching in the middle of the campsite, the fire having been extinguished by the sudden burst of wind. Sandra reached out and tore off a fresh, moist chunk of Brahmin meat from the half-broken rotisserie, taking a huge bite and beaming with pleasure as she did.
Vulpes stared at her strangely, opening his mouth to speak, but he scoffed and shook his head, as no words came to him. He spared a few more minutes to glare into the dead city with folded arms and a deeply perturbed expression.
Sandra couldn't have been bothered to care; she had no capacity for remorse, no care for the kind stranger named Cliff or any of his followers, nor the Legion strangers she had murdered. Her mind was an absolute blank now, free of all moral weights and all notions of regret. The only thing that mattered now was that she had survived—once more, she remained alive in the wake of warefare, and she now had a mouthful of delicious food as her reward.
Eventually, Vulpes tore his gaze from the burning city, marching into the campsite and sinking down to one knee, leveling his eyes with hers.
Sandra didn't notice. She was far too occupied with peeling hunks of meat from the Brahmin corpse and snacking on it joyfully.
"Not a care in the world," Vulpes murmured, eyeing her closely. "After what you just did…"
Sandra blinked, glimpsing up and only just noticing him knelt in front of her.
"Oh, sorry… y'want some?" she asked childishly, smiling and offering him a chunk of meat.
Vulpes narrowed his eyes oddly at her. "What is wrong with you?"
Sandra slowly lowered her hand, her smile fading. "What? What did I do?"
"What did you—?" Vulpes started, pressing a fist to his mouth and swallowing a long slew of curses. "You—you just slaughtered everyone. Everyone down there, enemies and allies alike. Do you not care?"
"No," Sandra replied blankly. "Those people weren't my friends. None of 'em were."
Vulpes stared into her in utter bewilderment for a moment.
"I should kill you," he hissed.
Then, it seemed as if every cloud of insanity momentarily left her being—her icy blue eyes flickered up from her food, and all the sudden, there was no trace of confusion or childishness amidst her severe visage.
"Go ahead and try," Sandra glowered in an entirely different voice. "Bigger badder armies than you have tried."
Vulpes and Sandra locked eyes. During this moment, it would've been impossible to tell which of their crystalline stares was fiercer.
"You're not lying," Vulpes determined, reading every inch of her expression.
"Nope," Sandra replied, then looked down and returned to her meal.
Vulpes slowly sank back, sitting on the ground and watching as she ate her dinner. Sandra continued enjoying her meal as if she didn't care about his presence at all.
"Fascinating," Vulpes murmured under his breath.
"Who?" Sandra mumbled, swallowing a mouthful. "Ehem—sorry—whaddid you say?"
Vulpes shot her another peculiar look. "You're very strange."
"You're wearing a freaking dog's head," Sandra snarked in response. "You're fuckin' strange."
Vulpes scoffed out a breathless noise that might've been a laugh.
As Sandra continued to eat, Vulpes glimpsed around, absorbing their environment and seeing numerous duffel bags and firearms scattered about. He then looked back to Sandra, flashing a sly half-smile. It would be a hard task for him to take on, heading all the way back to the Legion's main encampment on foot with no transportation and no allies by his side—but perhaps if he could use this girl's ruthless instincts to his advantage, it would make the travel ahead much easier.
So, rather than showing any anger or hostility, he spoke in a calm, friendly manner.
"Who are you?" Vulpes asked. "If you're not a Denver homebody, why are you here?"
"My name's Sandra," she replied. "I think…"
Vulpes blinked. "You think?"
"I'm just a drifter," Sandra shrugged, grabbing a huge hunk of meat and holding it like a large sandwich. "Who're you?"
"Vulpes Inculta… of Caesar's Legion," Vulpes answered. "Where do you plan to go?"
Sandra shrugged again, taking another bite.
"You have no destination in mind?" Vulpes inquired. "None whatsoever?"
"No," Sandra replied carelessly. "Just going west."
"Really." Vulpes leaned on one leg, eyeing her thoughtfully. "So am I."
Sandra stopped chewing, slowly raising her head. Then, she looked to the side and spoke to someone Vulpes couldn't see.
"Should we let him come with us?" Sandra asked the nonexistent Charon, who of course, didn't answer her.
Vulpes straightened up, giving her an investigative once-over. "You've gone mad."
"What?" Sandra uttered, turning back to Vulpes.
"Who are you talking to?"
"My friend, Charon."
"There's nobody there."
"Yeah there is, look…" Sandra turned to the side again, this time realizing that the space beside her was empty.
She let out a deep sigh, frowning and shaking her head.
"I forget sometimes," she breathed. "He's dead, and I forget sometimes…"
"Well, then." Vulpes flashed another sly smirk. "I suppose there's nobody to object to us traveling together, is there?"
"No… I guess not," Sandra mumbled sadly.
Vulpes maintained his evil smile, taking a chunk of meat for himself and munching on it.
The two of them ate in silence for a while until their stomachs were full.
Then, the shotgun strapped around Sandra's torso swung around when she stood. She grabbed the gun and held it upright—Vulpes staring at her and instantly tensing up, bracing himself for an altercation.
But Sandra had no interest in fighting or opening fire. She merely stared down at the inscription on the shotgun in silence, rereading Charon's name over and over and wondering why it was becoming so very hard to remember him clearly. His appearance was slowly fading from her awareness, even when she envisioned him beside her—his death often vanished from her memory, and so did her father's. Many times during her travels, she thought she was venturing across the Capital wastes, traveling with Charon in search of James, her wayward dad. But reality always returned to her, and every time it did, she'd be forced to accept the horrible truth of her life—that she was completely alone now. And with every time this terrible realization returned to her again, her past slipped further and further away. It was as if her mind was purposefully torturing her, repeatedly fooling her into believing nothing had changed when—in reality—everything had.
She simply couldn't bear it anymore.
Sandra sighed glumly, letting the shotgun dangle from its strap as she crawled into the nearest sleeping bag.
Vulpes watched her without saying a word until she drifted off to sleep.
On the night of their first meeting, neither of them knew what this chance encounter would pave for their futures years down the road—this night started a long series of days and nights together, traveling and scavenging food, trading off the supplies they'd taken from the campsite in exchange for food and water from every traveler they came across. Vulpes dressed in a leisure suit he'd bartered for, placing a hat on his head as he traveled in disguise, and Sandra periodically raised her arm in order to use her pip-boy, repeatedly forgetting that it was no longer there.
The two of them didn't speak much at first, aside from Sandra's occasional curious question about the Legion, or Vulpes scolding her for attempting to eat something that wasn't food.
But as the days passed and as they followed the route toward the Mojave—Vulpes using his memory and his sense of direction best he could—the two of them talked more, and both of them shot down any creatures that dared approach them, making good distance in good time and helping to protect one another. Vulpes knew he'd made the right decision in using this girl; it seemed far more practical and effective than traveling alone.
Many days and nights after their first meeting, after the weather was steadily growing colder outside, Sandra and Vulpes found themselves wandering down an isolated back road, surrounded by trees and fields in every direction. There was no shelter anywhere in sight, and both of them shivered as they walked, their breaths visible in the icy air as a spot of rain fell upon Sandra's forehead.
Nightfall was drawing near, and storm clouds had gathered overhead. Sandra wiped the raindrop off and glanced upward, walking and balancing on an old log like a child at play. She suddenly stopped, realizing what the oncoming storm meant—the two of them would likely be soaked and frozen to the bone soon.
"Aw man," Sandra pouted, leaping off the log and resuming her pace beside Vulpes. "Hey, we gotta find somewhere to hunker down soon."
"I'm aware," Vulpes replied tonelessly, striding forward without looking at her.
Sandra scanned him up and down as she walked, squinting at him curiously.
"What's your name mean?" Sandra inquired.
Vulpes turned and shot her an odd look. "What?"
"Vulpes—what does that mean?" Sandra elaborated.
"It means fox in Latin," he told her.
Sandra beamed suddenly, her eyes lighting up. "Foxxy!"
"Don't you dare call me that," Vulpes chided.
"Nope—it's too late. You're Foxxy now," Sandra giggled. "Do you know any more Latin?"
"I know all there is to know of Latin," Vulpes stated. "Stop pestering me."
"Don't be a grumpy-ass," Sandra laughed. "Teach me something."
Vulpes groaned out a sigh, tossing his head back and massaging his temples. "Shut up…"
"Teach me something Latin or I'll scream in your face," Sandra threatened.
Vulpes glared at her as they walked. After a moment of thought, he sighed and spoke again.
"Fortis fortuna adevat," Vulpes said smoothly. "Fortune favors the bold."
"Oh… that's awesome," Sandra smiled. "Tell me more."
"For Mars's sake…"
"Come on, we got nothing better to do. Teach me more Latin."
"Fine."
As they continued to walk, a steady sprinkle of rainfall began. Vulpes and Sandra chatted about various phrases in Latin for a while, until the rainfall began to thicken, and the two of them couldn't ignore it any longer.
"Foxxy—look," Sandra said, stepping off the side of the road and pointing at a rusty old cargo van sitting in the tall grass.
"I told you not to call me…" Vulpes trailed off, spotting the van and nodding. "Oh, good eye. Let's go. Hurry."
The two of them broke into a jog, racing through the tall grass as the rainfall became a pummeling downpour. Sandra ripped the back doors open, and the two of them crawled into the smelly van from the rear, both of them relieved to see that there was plenty of room inside. Each of them yanked the doors shut, shielding themselves from the rain as the storm pelted against the van's metal exterior.
They sat across from one another, shivering and cradling themselves in the freezing air.
"Congelatio," Sandra uttered through chattering teeth.
Vulpes stared at her, slowly nodding. "Yes… congelatio, indeed."
They went quiet, Vulpes surveying his bow soaked jacket. Sandra peeled off her bag and unraveled the sleeping bag from inside, unzipping it completely and lying across the van's dusty floor. She draped the thick, damp sleeping bag over herself like a blanket, glancing up at Vulpes and opening the opposite side, offering for him to join.
Vulpes stared at her. "I'm fine."
"Oh, bullshit," Sandra griped. "Don't act like we've never done this before."
"I'm fairly sure we haven't."
"Just get under here. It's freezing."
"Fine, fine…"
Vulpes sighed with disdain, removing his hat and crawling beneath the makeshift blanket beside her. Sandra curled up on her side, Vulpes lying on his back, the two of them listening as the rain hammered against the outside of the van.
Sandra scooted closer to him, pressing her forehead to his arm and clasping her eyes shut, savoring his close-by warmth. Then, as she found herself reliving a familiar sense of comfort, she suddenly realized that she and Vulpes hadn't done this before.
The last time this happened was in the Capital Wasteland, when Sandra and her companions sought shelter from a storm inside an overturned barn tower. Deja-vu crept up on her as the memory did the same, and she remembered lying with Charon, the two of them embracing one another throughout the entirety of a cold storm.
Her thoughts drifted away when she felt Vulpes shiver.
Sandra reached out, draping an arm around him and lying over his whole left side.
Vulpes's eyes ventured down to her, eyeing her strangely, but he didn't move or pull away. His arm slid around her and decided to stay put.
The two of them merely held one another for a while, basking in the warmth and comfort of their temporary shelter.
After a while, Sandra tucked the makeshift blanket more firmly around Vulpes's opposite side, sealing in as much warmth as possible. She then rested her head on the bridge between his arm and chest, a cozy little nook where she felt at ease enough to drift to sleep.
"I wish you didn't have to leave," she breathed in a soft, wispy murmur.
Vulpes narrowed his eyes down at her again, then returned his glare to the ceiling, losing himself to a deep thought. He was silent for several minutes before he bothered to reply.
"I have to return to my people," he uttered. "But, you… may be able to join me there."
Sandra blinked sleepily. "Yeah…?"
"Yes… there is one way," Vulpes mumbled with a long, heavy sigh. "Women are destined to be wives and laborors in Caesar's Legion… but if you belonged to me, then you'd be well-off forever."
Sandra pondered on this, her mind an absolute fog, any sense of logic completely absent from her. All she cared about were the simplest of needs—to eat when hungry, drink when thirsty, sleep when tired, and to stay by the side of the Fox of the Legion forever. It fell all too familiar, but this was no delusion of insanity; her travels with Vulpes were so very similar to her travels with Charon, and now, the happiness she felt back then finally seemed to be returning to her for real. The deepest, most desperate disires of her heart compelled her to stay by his side no matter what. It didn't matter what the Legion's practices were, how merciless they might've been or how women might've been mere property to them.
Nothing felt more right than being by the side of Vulpes Inculta.
Sandra raised her head, preparing to ask him more questions, but she instantly stopped, seeing that Vulpes had fallen asleep.
So, deciding to let him rest, she nestled beside him and drifted into a slumber as well.
As the storm raged on and as the night passed them by, Sandra didn't awaken until the sunlight was bleeding into the van's windows—the air was still chilly, but no longer freezing, and the rain had stopped completely.
Smiling with relief, Sandra sat upright and turned to Vulpes, but her smile quickly dwindled away. Vulpes's skin had gone sickly pale, sweat spotting his forehead as he lie asleep, his mouth slightly agape and an uncomfortable expression strewn across his slumbering visage.
Sandra placed her hand to his forehead, feeling an alarming burst of heat meet her knuckles.
"Ah… hell," she sighed, pulling up her bag and digging through it.
After finding her half-bottle of cough syrup—one of her leftover items from the loot at the Denver campsite—she scooted across the floor and popped the doors open, grabbing her shotgun and marching across the tall grass. She was gone for about an hour before she returned to the cargo van, dragging a young gecko's carcass behind her and clearing away a space in the tall grass, preparing to make a campfire.
Vulpes didn't awaken until nearly noon, and the moment his eyes drifted open, he felt heavier than ever, burning up and freezing cold at the same time.
Sandra crawled inside, now holding a gecko-ka-bob and a dirty bottle of water in either hand. She crawled into the van, sat snugly under the blanket beside Vulpes, and loomed over him.
"Hungry?" she asked, waving the gecko-ka-bob over his face.
Vulpes nodded.
"Good… then you can eat," Sandra said, pulling the food away. "After you take medicine."
Vulpes squinted tiredly up at her. "What're you…?"
Sandra popped the bottle of cough syrup open, slid her hand beneath his head, and gently lifted it, pressing the bottle to his mouth and pouring the syrup down his gullet. Vulpes's face twisted up disgustingly, making her choke on a laugh.
"What is that bile…?" Vulpes rasped, wiping his mouth and scowling terribly.
"That's gonna break your fever, Foxxy," Sandra replied simply, handing him the water and gecko-ka-bob. "Here ya' go."
At that, Sandra crawled beneath the blankets again, wanting to sleep a little more. She curled up beside Vulpes and made herself comfortable, Vulpes munching quietly on the gecko-ka-bob and rolling his head to the side, staring into her solemnly as he did.
In the beginning, he only intended to use her as a temporary security measure until he reached his destination… but over all this time, a strange new feeling began to arise. Strange, how he seemed more captivated by her face and her silky crimson hairs than he did by his sole task of returning to the Legion. Had he started to care for her? He couldn't know…
Then again, he wouldn't have offered to bring her into the Legion with him if he didn't care at all. Perhaps there was something resembling compassion between the two of them now.
After taking a drink of water, Vulpes sighed, turning toward her and facing her fully.
Sandra's eyes eased open, meeting his, their faces barely inches apart.
"Let me ask you," he said softly. "That night, in Denver… why did you do what you did?"
Sandra stared at him solemnly. "I just felt like I had to… stop it all…"
"Not that," Vulpes clarified, searching her eyes for any hint of rhyme or reason. "You reached out… and you stopped the blast from hitting me directly. Why?"
Sandra swallowed, glancing down at the floor beside her head and gently scraping at it with her fingernail. "I don't know… I just wanted to."
"For no reason," Vulpes mumbled. "None at all…?"
Sandra made a mild shrug.
Vulpes stared into her incredibly. "I've never met anyone so willing to kill… and so willing to save… all at the same time. You are really… very… perplexing."
Sandra flashed a faint smile, reaching forward and clasping her warm hands around one of his cold ones, tightening her grasp on him.
Vulpes stared into her, their foreheads resting against one another, breaths grazing one another's faces as they moved steadily closer. As their eyes drifted shut, their lips met in a soft, tender kiss, and Sandra gave herself to him, sinking into his grasp and relishing in the comfort of his body encompassing hers. Their kiss evolved into a longer, hungrier one as Vulpes found himself on top of her, shedding his clothes before peeling hers from her curvy physique—and as the two of them lost themselves to one another, their minds went blank with a pure, euphoric joy.
They didn't resume their travels until the dawn of the following day.
The next day—both of them felt lighter, Sandra grinning at every passerby sight, Vulpes's fever fading away in no time. They marched down the broken road of east Nevada together, discussing various Latin phrases along the way.
About halfway through the day, Sandra was meandering along the side of the road, following the path of a tiny iguana that was scurrying along the grass beside the pavement. She beamed at it as she watched it crawl along beside her, Vulpes sparing her a glance and a breathless laugh, shaking his head as he continued his stride onward.
Then, something caught his eyes that made him halt on a dime.
"Sandra," he said loudly, waving for her to rejoin his side. "Come here."
Sandra perked up and wheeled around, approaching him in the middle of the road and following his trail of vision down the street ahead.
Off in the distance, a wooden wagon was approaching them, pulled by two Brahmin and accompanied by one man on foot, two more men sitting inside the wagon along with many trunks and bags of unknown supplies.
"Ooo… a caravan," Sandra smirked. "A tiny one. Maybe they're just travelers…"
"We need their wagon," Vulpes determined.
Sandra turned and squinted at him. "Why?"
"Because… if I don't return to my people soon, they'll label me as a deserter," Vulpes told her. "That's not a position anyone would want to be in. Believe me."
"Ah… let's just ask them for a ride," Sandra decided—and before he could stop her, she was sprinting toward the oncoming wagon right away.
Vulpes swore under his breath before following after her.
Sandra stopped in front of the wagon, the traveler on foot tugging on his brahmin's ropes and ordering them to stop. The two men inside the wagon stood upright, staring down at Sandra strangely.
"Hey—could you give us a ride?" Sandra asked with a whimsical smile. "We can pay you in stuff. We don't have much, but we have enough."
The man on foot traded eyes with the two in the wagon, all of them surveying Sandra more intently now.
"What do you have?" the man on foot asked.
Sandra opened her mouth to reply—and Vulpes appeared beside her, clasping a hand over her mouth and shaking his head.
"Don't answer that," Vulpes ordered, turning and meeting eyes with the man on foot. "Are you willing to trade for transportation, or not?"
The three men swapped glances again, now smiling devilishly.
"I think it'd be easier just to kill you and take your shit," the man on foot sneered.
Just when he raised his rifle—Vulpes shoved Sandra back and whipped out his pistol—
Sandra gasped—the men in the wagon leaped out and cocked their guns—
Vulpes hit the ground, narrowly dodging a bullet whizzing over his hat. He hammered the trigger from the pavement—the bullets ripping through the skull of the man on foot.
Sandra staggered away—yanking out her shotgun and blasting at the other two with haste.
The shotgun blasts tore bloody holes in their torsos, making both of them scream horrifically before collapsing to the ground.
Sandra and Vulpes quickly regrouped, Vulpes grasping her by the arm and slowly nudging her back. Sandra watched grimly, Vulpes's expression strewn with severity as the two of them watched the men die, groaning and bleeding out on the concrete.
"Come on," Vulpes uttered, nodding at the wagon.
Sandra spared the dying men a final glance before leaping into the wagon alongside Vulpes. Vulpes grabbed the rope, gave the Brahmin a hard tug to the side, and the mutant cows slowly began to turn in a wide circle, carrying the wagon off from the same direction it had come.
For a while, they rode in the wagon in silence, Vulpes sitting across from Sandra as she stared glumly down at her shotgun, once more reading the name on the side, as she often did.
After what felt like an eternity of silence, Vulpes finally spoke.
"Who is that," he muttered, nodding at the shotgun. "Charon… who was he?"
Sandra stared into the gun for several more seconds, her dark expression suddenly morphing into one of despair.
"I…" she uttered sadly, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I c… can't remember…"
Vulpes observed in silence as the girl began to cry softly to herself. And then, he felt something incredibly strange, a sensation he was certain he'd never felt for anyone before.
For some reason, he wanted very much for her not to cry anymore.
He couldn't fathom why he cared for such a thing, but nevertheless, he sighed and sat on the floor of the wagon, motioning for her to join him. Sandra sat snugly beside him, Vulpes draping his arm around her and holding her close as the two of them rode across the Mojave Wasteland.
Hours passed, and Sandra rested her head on his collar, Vulpes's face pressed against the top of her smooth, crimson hair.
"I'm coming with you, Foxxy…" she breathed faintly.
Vulpes said nothing, merely stroking her arm and releasing a heavy cloud of breath. He knew full well what she meant, and quite honestly, he enjoyed the idea—returning to his Legion with a new wife on his arm, a loyal and eccentric girl with a captivating personality, and beautiful to boot.
But as the afternoon faded to evening and as the wagon carried them deeper into the Mojave, the darker thoughts of Vulpes's reality could no longer be ignored.
He held her tightly as she fell asleep in his arms, grimacing and looking more disturbed than he ever had before.
He knew what would happen if he took her back to the Legion; first and foremost, the new arrival would need to be approved by Caesar himself. Vulpes wasn't sure if His Lord would approve of his selection of a wife—and even if he did, what would become of the girl whenever Vulpes had to leave on an expedition? Sandra would be left alone in the Legion encampment, left to the mercy of the nastiest of Legionaries. Vulpes knew men like Caesar and Lucius wouldn't dare lay their hands on another Legionary's wife, but men like Antony and Sanctus? Or, God forbid, the fabeled Legate Lanius?
Vulpes stared down at the sleeping girl in his lap, grinding his teeth and feeling thoroughly, utterly conflicted.
He wanted her more than he knew, needed her nearby—and she seemed to want the same.
But taking her back to the Legion would bring more badness than it would good. That much, he knew for certain.
Then, as night fell entirely and the tower of Vegas shone in the far distance, Vulpes spotted a building up ahead—it was the only building on this road, a dark, rickety pit-stop on the fringes of the Mojave Wasteland. As the wagon rolled closer, Vulpes was able to read the sign hovering above the building's front doors. In flickering red letters, the sign read clearly;
MOJAVE EXPRESS.
Vulpes gulped, stared down at Sandra once more, and tugged on the ropes.
The Brahmin slowed to a stop in front of the Mojave Express, the wagon parked directly in front of the old building. Vulpes remained sitting in the wagon for what felt like years, merely gazing down at Sandra and cradling her for as long as he could.
"You're not meant for that life of mine," he murmured softly.
Vulpes easefully held her upright, planted a kiss on her lips, then gently released her, lying her on the wagon's wooden floor before slowly reaching his feet.
Adjusting his hat and giving her a final, longing stare, Vulpes leaped out of the wagon and marched off by himself, vanishing into the night and unknowingly leaving the lonely wanderer at the threshold of her new empire.