CHAPTER 41: LONGSHOT.

The night was pitch black with only the faint glow of the moon illuminating the land below. Five houses lined a dusty street of a dead neighborhood. The rest of the homes had collapsed long ago or been scavenged for materials. The remaining structures were barely considered houses either, they were barely suitable to use as shelter for anyone wanting a place to live. But that didn't stop a gang from using the dilapidated homes as a crude base.

A gunshot echoed across the land and took out another bandit who was hiding behind a wall near a shattered window of the second floor after poking his head out to check and ended up with a bullet in it. With another down, there was only seven of the bandits left as they scurried around for cover. It didn't take them long to figure out their attacker was using a sniper rifle to pick them off. The fight had been going on for almost an hour after midnight and the shooter caught them by surprise after taking out three of the guards on watch. A few of the others were taken out after trying to charge the shooter and ended up dead on the ground.

"Where the fuck is this guy?!" The leader shouted as he started reloading his assault rifle. They had used up a lot of their ammo, firing in the dark with no idea where the shooter was.

"There has to be more than one! No way one person can do this!" The man closest to him shouted.

Another gunshot came streaking through the air and was met with a scream. Another of the men, one without a shirt on was shot through the chest and fell off from the open attic of the house he was hiding in. He landed on his head, twisting the neck to the point of breaking before his body flopped to the ground. The next gunshot hit a man that was running to new cover, the bullet got him in the waist and the shock sent him tripping to the ground and cracked the side of his head against an edge of concrete foundation. His body laid twitching as blood poured out from the cracked open wound. Another man emerged from the open roof carrying an RPG on his shoulder. He looked towards the distant flash of the sniper's gun and took aim in hopes the rocket would reach. But just as he was about to fire, the sniper spotted the man aiming the RPG and fired. The bandit was shot in the gut area just as he fired. His aim was thrown off by the sudden jerk as the rocket veered off to the far right. Two more of the bandits were hiding behind a pile of old car frames that was the beginning of a crude barricade. The rocket hit the men and sent the car frames flying in a ball of fire, giving the night a bright flash of light and blowing the men to pieces as the one who fired fell and bled out from his wound.

Only two remained as everything went quiet after the explosion died down. The leader of the group was seething with rage as his last man huddled beside him whimpering and crying and muttering empty prayers for help. After several minutes of nothing happening, the whimpering bandit finally lost his nerve and ran off into the dark of the night. His boss shouted for him to come back. The man dashed across the remains of the backyard pass the empty crumbling pool as another shot got him in the back and fell into the empty dusty pool.

At long last the leader lost it and stood up from hiding and began firing into the dark. The leader could tell that the last shot was a lot closer than before, indicating that the sniper had started moving forward after the RPG explosion. In only a matter of seconds his rifle went empty and started running to new cover where they kept their ammo supply inside the house in the middle of the row. He tried to shortcut his way by running into the house behind him where almost all the walls have fallen off on the first floor leaving the frames and old pipes and so on exposed. His attempt to flee proved to be his fatal mistake. Pain ruptured from the right side of his body near the kidney area as he went sprawling to the floor of the living room. He twisted around groaning loudly in pain as blood began to stain the shabby old carpet.

After a few minutes, the shooter came walking up to the house as the bandit leader barely managed to crawl a few inches across the floor. The person stepped into the house with big heavy boots, the bandit looked over his shoulder to see a pair of red lenses glowing faintly in the dark. The sniper wore a domed helmet with a gas mask that had a tube. His body armor was thick and bulky along with the rest of his dark clothes and a long dark brown trench coat with a lighter area near the left side of the chest, indicating there was once a patch that had been torn off. Inside one of the belt pouches was a chain made of coins, each with a hole punched on opposite sides and linked together with a loop of metal. The coins were Legion Denarius, and the sniper had thirty of them with a few hanging out of the pouch.

He carried an MSG90 in his hands. The sides of his waist had two holsters. One gun was a Walther P99 and a Super Redhawk revolver. Hanging from his waist was a gladius in its sheath. Although an expert could tell right away that it wasn't a true gladius from ancient Rome, it was still a useful weapon and was made for someone who was high up in the Legion.

The Ranger walked across the floor, the old wood creaking with each step. The bandit crawled towards the couch where a handgun rested on one of the cushions. But the Ranger already saw it and went over to pick it up and put it on a shelf way out of the man's reach.

He rolled onto his back with a pained groan and put his hands on his wound to try and stop the bleeding. "Please. Please help me! I'll give you whatever you want! Caps, weapons, supplies! You can have it all! Just please help me!"

"You practically have a gut shot. That's a slow and painful way to go and you've already bled a lot." the Ranger said, his voice coming out in a deep artificial tone thanks to a voice modulator in the gas mask.

"I have stimpaks stashed in the bathroom! It's just down the hall! Bring them and you can have whatever you can carry!" the bandit pleaded before another wave of pain washed over him.

The Ranger walked down the hall steadily with the rifle slung over his shoulder. His red lenses had night vision to see in the dark. He passed the bathroom without even looking in and found the entrance to the basement. He walked down the steps carefully since so many of them creaked and bent under his weight until he reached the floor. He raised a heavy gloved hand up and pulled the string hanging from the lightbulb. It flickered on and lit the room with a dim glow. His suspicions was confirmed after what he saw, the room had many backpacks, duffle bags, and other forms of carrying things stacked in one corner of the room. Another corner had a big pile of clothes ranging from many sizes. Stuffed in another corner next to the rusted water heater was supplies packed for travel. The sniper turned his head and found the other thing he had heard. The last corner had an old bed with a stained mattress and four pairs of handcuffs at the metal bedposts.

The Ranger's fist tighten with a strain of leather as he spun around and walked back up the stairs. He found the bandit leader still on the floor slightly curled. He looked up to the Ranger and held out his hand.

"Where's the stimpak?! I promised I'd give you anything you want!"

"I never agreed to anything you said. I just had a nice look downstairs in the basement." He walked over with some heavy steps. "So how many?..."

"What are you talking about?" He whined, his skin already pale.

"Don't play stupid! I saw the bed!" the Ranger shouted, his synthesizer increasing his deep tone. "I've heard all about you people! The bandits that hide in an old neighborhood ambushing travelers and caravans and taking everything they have. And even worse, you take the women you capture and rape them until they die! So tell me, how many have you people killed? How many have you robbed and left in a ditch somewhere to rot?" The bandit just groaned in response and rolled on his side trying to crawl away. "You can't even answer that, can you? Or is it that you won't answer? Or both?"

"Fuck you, asshole!" the bandit shouted before the strain made him cry out again. "You think I don't know why you're here! I know there's a bounty on our heads! So don't go actin' high and mighty by takin' us out! You're just here for the caps!"

The Ranger started reaching for his Redhawk. "It's true, I do need the caps. But that doesn't mean I can't take pride in wiping out scum like you and your buddies off the planet. I've seen plenty of monsters like you years ago as it is."

He pulled out the Redhawk and pointed it at the bandit and cocked the hammer. The bandit tried to crawl away as the Ranger pulled the trigger and gave the night another flash of light.

()()()()()()()

April 15/2296

Five days have passed since Ezrah joined the wanderers. Although it was a bit tough at first, not that he couldn't keep up with them, it's just that being in Power Armor made them stand out even more. Ezrah would often march ahead, scouting the area before coming back to report on anything that could be dangerous. During the night shifts he would stay up longer than usual despite several of them pointing out that he didn't need to because there was plenty of them to go around. He was even the first to volunteer on entering buildings they were gonna search for supplies. A day and a half after Ezrah joined they finally crossed the state line. The big sign barely hanging on its supports as most of its graphics had fade from age but still said, 'WELCOME TO PENNSYLVANIA' in big bold letters.

They walked down the road of an interstate highway, passing by rusted vehicles while checking them for anything useful. Ezrah's Power Armor allowed him to move old cars out of the way with relative ease. The highway was the best way to travel at the time since the signal kept pointing in that direction for days. And earlier, Wayland and Ezrah worked together to flip over a big rig trailer that blocked their way. Their combined strength made moving vehicles easier as they continued on down the interstate that seemed to go on forever.

"Why are we still on this highway?" Radcliffe asked while picking up a rusted hubcap out of curiosity. "It's taking us forever, are you sure that signal thing is pointin' in the right direction?"

Doug forced open a car trunk with his fire axe. "Are you going to keep bringing this up every few hours?" he asked while rummaging around in it. "Because if you are it's gonna be a really long day, and I won't tolerate that shit."

Asimov jimmied open the hood of a car for Inez. Once it was open she began rooting around in it for parts. "Doug's right, we're going as fast as we can. And besides, with all these cars around, we shouldn't miss a chance to search for anything useful around here." she pulled out a carburetor and looked it over. "Ah, still in good condition."

Cavall followed Louis beside him while sniffing the road. He came across a car that had all its doors ripped off and poked his head in to sniff around inside to find two skeletons in the front seats. He took hold of the forearm with his teeth and yanked it out. The large hybrid came around the car and up to Louis' side, chewing on the bones as he walked.

"Hey, Cavall, you shouldn't eat that." Louis said and stopped. "For starters, those bones are really old."

He grabbed the end of the bone and started yanking. Cavall pulled back in response, thinking Louis was playing with him until after a few good tugs he took the forearm from Cavall's mouth and placed it on top of a nearby car so he would lose interest despite whining a little in protest. Louis kept walking ahead at a slow pace while everyone spread out but still stayed close as they searched for anything useful. He checked the Pip-Boy once again as he had every ten minutes or so, growing more exhausted with each passing minute.

"Are you okay?" He turned his head to see Victoria standing next to him. "You keep looking at that every few minutes. In fact you've been acting a bit off for the last few days."

Louis paused for a moment. "I...I guess. I don't know." he took a deep breath to clear his head. "It's just that once again we've been on the trail for days and it doesn't seem like we're getting any closer. Sometimes I think we're going in circles and the danger just keeps growing..."

"Oh, well, I can see why that bothers you." She struggled a moment to think of a better response. "If it helps, at least we haven't had any problems since Ezrah joined. And I don't believe you're leading us in circles. We'll come across the end of the signal sooner or later. We just have to keep pressing on, as you always say."

Louis smiled to that. "Thanks. I guess I was being too hard on myself. I'm just worry this would have all been for nothing at the end. And I can't live with that after dragging so many people into this."

"Who says we're being dragged around?" Doug asked as he approached with Ezrah and Wayland behind him, both carrying engines on their shoulders pulled from cars. "And in case you're wonderin'...Inez asked them to carry those things."

"Hey, those engines are in great condition!" Inez said as she approached, carrying some parts in a sack as Asimov followed, carrying the engine of a motorcycle in his hands. "We can sell those for a lot of caps to the right people."

"She's right, we need the caps." Joe came up and said. "Traveling the Wasteland ain't cheap as I've experienced many times."

About a mile away, the wanderers were being watched. A person observed them with high powered military binoculars. He focused in on them, unable to hear what they were saying but that wasn't important. He spotted the one they were looking for and zoomed in on Victoria to make sure it was her.

"Guys, I found her! The redhead!" He said to them. The man was a lanky person with short dirty hair, sun tanned skin and missing five of his teeth. "No doubt about it, now that we've gotten close enough to spy on them."

They hid in a gas station, one that was cleaned out long ago with windows shattered and the door torn off and the pumps long dry of fuel. Two other men sat in the dark building not too far from the watcher. One man had dark skin and his left eye covered with a eyepatch. The other man was a bit taller than them with his hair starting to go bald at the front. He stood up and walked over to the man with binoculars.

"Wait a second, there's something wrong?" the man said, still keeping his eyes on Victoria.

"What do you mean something is wrong?" the other tall man asked as he took the binoculars and looked.

"I mean I see the three guys we were told about. A Vault dweller with a trench coat, a ghoul and another guy! All matching what Jeremiah was told! But there's more people with them!" he explained while squinting his eyes in the same direction.

The tall man scanned the wanderers as they started to regroup. "Fuck, you're right! There's a whole bunch more of them! Where did these people come from?!"

"If they're with her than this is gonna be more trouble than we thought." the man with the eyepatch reached into his backpack and pulled out a military field phone and extended the antenna out. "We need to report this to the others. We can't lose this lead after tracking these assholes for so long."

The tall man took the big brick of a field phone and typed in a number with his thumb while keeping the binoculars pointed at the wanderers. A low trilling was heard as he pressed the speaker to his ear, waiting for their partners to pick up.

()()()()()()()()()()()

In a room with the shutters closed, a man was seated on an old sofa chair with a small side table at his side smoking a rolled cigar and flicking the ashes into an ashtray. The smoke hanged heavily in the air, mixing with what little sunlight that got in. On a desk near the bed was a bigger military field phone in a carrying case. The phone started ringing and the man's attention quickly made him stand up, leaving his cigar in the ashtray and walked over. He quickly opened the canvas flap and looked at the mobile phone, a few lights flashed on the surface as he picked up the receiver, fixing the cord so it wouldn't tangle up.

"I'm here. What's going on?" he said while sitting down on the bed.

"Hey, it's us." the voice on the other end spoke. The call came from the group watching the wanderers. "We found the redhead. The one Jeremiah wants back. Red hair, blue eyes, and quite a nice big set of titties if I do say so myself."

The man held the phone tightly. "I'd hold my tongue if I were you. Jeremiah tends to take things like this very personal."

"Okay, fine, but that's not the point. We've ran into quite a bit of an issue."

"What issue? Is she okay?" he said with growing panic.

"Those three guys that took her, well there's a whole bunch more of them now! There's another woman with plasma weapons. Another that looks like a mechanic with an Assaultron that seems to be following her. A giant dog, or wolf, I can't tell. A man who looks like a Raider, and a little drunk from the way he's staggering. Someone in working Power Armor if you can believe it. And what looks like one of those Super Mutants! This is more than we've signed up for!"

"Okay, I get the point!" he said with frustration. The plan they were forming had been thrown out the window. They didn't plan on more people involved. "Dammit, this is unexpected, very unexpected. But we're so close! The reward Jeremiah is offering will have us set for years!"

The other end of the field phone was silent for a few moments. "What're we gonna do? If we go back to Jeremiah without a good explanation and empty-handed, than we'll be the ones in slave collars!"

"I know that already. Just give me a minute to think!" he held the phone to his side while his left foot began to rapidly tap the floor. He then stood up and carried the phone and case in his hands and went over to the window as an idea began to form. "Okay, I think we can salvage this. You know the town we've been holed up in for a few weeks?" he asked as he bent a section of the shutters down to peek outside.

On the street, many people walked around, going about their business. The old town had been turned into a hub for people in the line of mercenary work or bounty hunting and even trade. It was a place to gather, form teams, and to rest and resupply before going out. The people who ran the town organized bounty boards and gathered information while taking a cut of the profits. That kind of business kept the town running for over a hundred and fifty years.

"Yeah, Hunter Town? What about the place?"

"There are people here who are willing to work for the right price. Mercenaries, bounty hunters and so on. We can hire someone to assist us."

"That town is full of people like that! What good are a bunch of hired guns gonna be? Between us three and you four over there, the last thing we need is more people to split Jeremiah's reward with!"

The man smiled as he watched the people on the dusty street. "Not a bunch, just one. There's a person I've heard about. A sniper who's made quite a name for himself this past year. And from what I've heard, he's deadly as fuck. We can hire him to help us, catch the bitch, and then get rid of him if necessary. All the sniper has to do is keep them busy and pick them off while we round her up. It's risky, but it's better than us losing our lives."

"How can this one sniper make such a difference? We'll still be outgunned."

"Because he's taken out many people in one go. In fact, he's been away hunting some bandits, so he should be back any day now. Just keep tailing them and report their movements. I'll get in touch with this sniper and butter him up with some sob story on Jeremiah's whore and go from there. It's better than nothing, and at least we won't throw ourselves into the grinder."

"Alright, fine. We'll watch them for as long as we can. They haven't diverted from their path in the last few days. We'll keep an eye on them and if it seems like they're heading near you guys, we'll contact you."

"Stay safe. Contact you later." he said before hanging up the field phone. The man fixed up his clothes, long sleeve shirt and baggy pants and grabbed his jacket on a hook and fixed back his rough hair and left his hotel room to round up the others.

()()()()

Late in the morning, the Ranger returned to the town. He walked steadily with his rifle slung over his shoulder. The sun was at his back, a habit he often did if he could while traveling. The entrance to Hunter Town soon came up, a town that once had a manufacturing plant. Although more than half of the town fell to ruin along ago, there was still enough buildings for hundreds of people to rest and resupply and even set up guilds of their own if they could afford a building space. The Ranger marched through the guarded entrance as the very guards stepped out of the way. He continued on down the dusty street, vendors and those walking on the street turned their heads to him and some even stepped out of is way as he passed. The Ranger had gotten quite a reputation over the year since he arrived. And even more so since no one didn't know his name or even seen his face. Once the Ranger got halfway down the town main street, he turned his head to the building he was looking for. The Bounty House, a place where people turned in and collected their bounties and picked up new jobs and even had rooms to rest in since it once used to be a hotel. He pushed the heavy door open with one hand and entered the building. The inside was filled with a few dozen people talking, eating and drinking at tables, and even checking the bounty board for a new job. Everyone went quiet for a moment as the Ranger looked across the room to the man at the big mahogany desk covered with paperwork.

He started walking, the floorboards creaking under his heavy boots as everyone went back to what they were doing but a little more quiet since many of them wanted to see the Ranger turn in his bounty. The man in his early fifties sat at the desk, writing reports and filing bounty claims and just balancing the books. The Ranger came up to the desk and paused as the man looked up from his papers.

"Well...it's been what? Five days since you left?" he asked, placing his pen down.

"Eight. Spent the week scouting their patterns and habits and then went on the attack at night. It was over in a few hours." the Ranger answered as he reached into the inside of his bulky coat, one of many pockets on the inside and some on the outside too. He pulled out a common sized chain over two feet long with a big padlock connecting the ends together to make it a crude necklace. On the padlock was a sheet of metal in the shape of a deformed human skull that was as crude as the dirty chain itself and welded on to the padlock front. He gently placed the necklace down on the table but it still made a heavy clatter. "The leader's chain. Found it in his room."

The bounty officer picked up the chain and looked at it while grabbing a piece of paper that had reported details on the bounty. "Yep, it matches the description. And I assume all ten of them are dead?"

"Thirteen. There was thirteen of them." the Ranger responded, his tone was slightly agitated despite the synthesizer.

"Hmm, must have bolstered their numbers recently. No matter." the clerk placed the chain down and turned to an assistant standing nearby. "Get the bounty. He's earned it."

The young man dashed off to the back room where the bounty vault was, inside it was filled with bags containing a certain amount of caps tied to bounties. It was done to cut down on time with counting out each cap and a lot of professionals could tell how much caps just by the weight. In a few minutes the man returned with a big burlap sack and placed it on the desk.

"Okay, the bounty for those house hiding bandits sums up to...six thousand caps...all in all a well earned pay." the bounty clerk said as he pushed the bag across the table. The people whispered to each other with words of amazement and some with envy over the Ranger's bounty since he had taken on several big jobs all by himself before.

The Ranger grabbed the top of the bag and shook it a few times to make sure it was all there before walking off with barely a word. Several people got out of his way as he went up to the bar at the other end of the room. He pulled out fifteen caps from his pocket and placed them down on the counter in front of the waitress.

"The usual. My room..." he said before walking towards the wide stairs up to the second floor.

As the Ranger ascended the stairs, four people watched him go from a small round table with a few empty glasses in front of each of them. One was the same man working with the three others following the wanderers. Another was a woman with buzz cut hair. Another with a dirty black scarf wrapped around his lower face and neck. And another man that was on the skinny side with blotchy skin and thinning hair.

"There he is. What luck we're in." the lead of the group smiled and finished his drink. "His return couldn't have come at a better time!"

"So are you going to talk to him right now?" the woman asked him.

"I wouldn't." the man with the scarf spoke. "He just got back, best not to bother him this moment."

The thin man coughed heavily before speaking. "How can you be so sure this guy will help? I don't trust anyone who's face I've never even seen before." he spoke before coughing again.

"It's simple, I have quite a way with words." the leader replied. "And I've been studying a lot of the bounty hunters here, including that one. And from what I've gathered, he seems to have a grudge against murderers, rapists, and even some would-be slavers. Just about every bounty he's chased involves those kind of people. I can use that to our advantage."

"He can't be that easy to trick." the woman said. "He's not some cutthroat working for his next meal. If he figures out what we're really up to, it could get ugly."

"And I don't know if you all noticed, but I think that guy is a Ranger. As in a Ranger of the NCR!" the man with the scarf said.

"Holy shit! Are you serious? What the hell is the NCR doing all the way out here?" the sickly man spoke with such fear that he began to cough heavily again.

"Calm down, all of you." the leader slapped his hand on the table. "I realized that too. Like I said, I've been keeping tabs on a lot of the bounty hunters that come and go here. And as far as I can tell this guy is completely alone. So that means he's either a defector or something, or for all we know killed a Ranger and took his stuff. The point is we don't have to worry about an army of the NCR up our asses. And if that guy becomes a problem, we'll kill him too."

The three sat quiet, thinking and weighing their options, and their leader was the only one who could make up any good plans in a fight. So in the end they all agreed and waited for him to make his move on the Ranger, because they knew that failing Jeremiah always came with consequences.

The Ranger sat alone in his room, nobody ever entered it since he started renting it and every time he had food brought up he would leave the tray and cart out. He could afford very good meals thanks to his bounties. Just as he rolled out the cart after eating a steak meal with corn and potatoes and a few beers, he spotted a young woman standing at his door. She gasped quietly after seeing him come out the door wearing his Ranger uniform as if he had never taken it off. Before either could say anything the woman reached into her pocket and held out a folded piece of paper.

"Uh, for you. It's the information you wanted."

The Ranger took the paper and opened it. He read it a few times before looking up. "Is this information accurate? This location is not far away at all..."

"It is, they are always thorough. And besides, I'm just the messenger."

He folded the paper and tucked it in his inner pocket and went back in his room and gathered up his weapons, but this time left his supplies behind. Once he locked the bedroom door he gave the messenger a generous tip and headed down the stairs into the floor lobby and out onto the street. He only got a few feet away from the building before someone called out to him.

"Sir, wait! I have a request!" The Ranger turned his head to the man approaching him. The slave hunter didn't expect the Ranger to leave so soon after just returning from a mission and they were on a strict timetable as it is. "Sir, please, don't go yet! I want to hire you for a mission. I didn't expect you would take a new job so soon."

The Ranger fully turned around to face him. "I haven't taken a new bounty. What I'm doing is personal. And it's not too far away either. So if I'm lucky I'll be back before the sun's down."

The man held back a frustrated growl. "Is it that urgent? Because we could really use your help. Your skills are without question and we can pay you very well!"

He thought it over for a few moments before answering. "If this mission of yours can wait until tomorrow, then I'll help. But right now I have a personal matter that I can't let slip by. I'll return as soon as I can."

The slave catcher had no choice but to accept defeat as the Ranger marched on. He headed to the exit on the other side of town and followed the old road to the next town several miles away. He felt a little angry for not knowing another one of his targets had been closer than he anticipated. Just thinking about it made him quicken his pace to a light jog while slinging his sniper rifle over his shoulder.

()()()()()()()()()()()()()

It was just a bit pass noon as the wanderers rested for a bit. They still traveled the highway as the signal pointed, making a lot of them wonder if they were finally on the right track. Louis, Joe, Chloe, and Doug laid a map on the hood of a car to study the roads nearby for a better path.

"I think we should just stay on the interstate we're on." Louis said. "We've been doing well for the last few days."

Joe hummed a little as he started tracing his finger on the map. "True, but we can't run the risk of crossing paths with highway bandits. Staying on the interstate for a long time is just asking for trouble. I speak from many experiences on that too."

"Then how 'bout we take this route?" Chloe asked as she pointed to another interstate section a few miles off. "It would be a change of pace from what we've been on."

"Does it really matter?" Doug asked. "A highway's a highway. We should only change course if the signal changes."

"I agree with Doug." Louis said. "I know you're worried, Joe, but we shouldn't reroute unless we have to."

"You guys almost done over there?" Radcliffe called to them. "I'm gettin' so bored!"

"I've seen children with longer attention spans than him..." Joe said with a scoff as he folded up the map.

Ezrah approached them with his rifle held in hands. "I've done a sweep of the area. No sign of hostile threats."

Louis looked to him. "Uh, that's good to hear, but you didn't have to do that."

"When a large group such as ourselves is out in the open, we must have regular sweeps of the area for any possible threats." Ezrah answered him, as if almost talking to a superior officer. "I'll do one more look around before we head out." he turned and walked off to scout.

"Is it me...or is he so uptight?" Chloe asked once he was out of hearing range.

"I think it's a combination of trying to make a good impression with us and just what he used to do in the Brotherhood." Louis answered in response.

"Then why is Radcliffe still with us?" Doug asked.

Victoria approached with Cavall following right beside her. "Are we ready to go again? Because everyone's ready."

"I'm ready too." Inez came up next. "I've run out of things to check over with Asimov."

Asimov walked to her with his right arm slowly moving up and down at the elbow. "I think you've tighten my arm too much."

"Yeah, we're ready." Louis said to them. "We think it's best to stay the course for now."

"Does this mean I still have to carry this engine?..." Wayland asked as he held it up.

"We'll find a place to sell it soon, Wayland." Inez assured him. "Just hold onto it for a bit longer, please."

The wanderers gathered back together and continued on. Victoria stopped for a moment to check her supplies as a strange shiver went up her back. She looked around to the distance searching for whatever might be out there. For the last few days she felt they were being followed, something she hadn't felt in quite awhile.

"Are you okay?" Louis asked her from behind.

She jolted slightly after hearing his voice and turned to him. "I'm...I'm fine. I was just...checking my stuff."

"You sure?" he asked, crossing his arms. "You've seemed a bit skittish for the last few days. Always looking around, staying up a bit later pass your night shift."

Victoria couldn't think of an excuse to say. "I...I just can't help but think we're not alone. I think we're being followed."

Louis looked around to see if there was someone watching them from afar. "Well, it's possible that someone could be followin' us. We are out in the open. But I doubt anyone would be foolish enough to attack so many of us."

Victoria glanced over her shoulder again. "I don't know. I think it might be more than just some thieves waiting for the right moment to strike."

It took Louis a few moments to realize what she was talking about. "Oh, you still think Jeremiah might send people after you?" just saying his name made her slightly shiver. "Sorry. What I mean is I will never let that happen to you. I'll protect you, no matter what. That is...I mean we'll all protect you. We protect each other, out here in the Wasteland and so. God, I'm tripping on my words like an idiot."

Victoria smiled at his attempt to make her feel better. "I know what you mean. And thank you, for always looking out for everyone." she looked to the group ahead of them. "We better hurry before they get too far. Got another long day of walking."

As Victoria walked pass him, Louis' smile turned to a frown as he held his arm up and activated the Pip-Boy and selected the motion detector function. It took him a few weeks to figure out some of the controls. Victoria was right about one thing, someone has been following them for a few day. Because every time he expanded the distance on the motion detector, it would detect the faintest blips just outside its hundred foot range. He dismissed it for now and switched the Pip-Boy back to its signal tracker and turned to catch up with the group.

()()()()()()()()()()()()

It was a few hours pass noon as the Ranger approached the town that was written on the note. It was mostly desolate, only a handful of buildings standing on the main street and a population of a few dozen people living in it. The barely standing town was just a place for those passing through or looking for rest. The Ranger walked down the street, hands in his coat pockets and rifle hanging from his back. He finally found the place he was looking for, a bar that was probably one of the very few places worth visiting in the decaying town. He went up to the old wooden door, ignoring the closed sign and pushed it open. A bell rung above his head as he looked towards the bar and spotted two men.

One sat on the stool as another was behind the bar cutting dull yellow lemons with a big knife for the drinks. They both looked pass middle age, the one behind the bar had thinning hair and wore a dull bar apron and the one sitting on the stool was a tad thin and dressed in plain clothes with a long sleeve shirt. They were laughing about a joke before the one on the stool turned his head to look at who came in.

"Hey there, I'm sorry but we're..." he and the man at the bar went quiet as they saw the Ranger. "...closed, for now...we won't be...open for another hour..." he felt a lump in his throat.

The door slowly swung close as the Ranger started walking towards the bar. "Sorry. Guess I didn't see the sign. But I've traveled a long way and I need a drink. Whiskey, neat." he sat down beside the man and put his arms on the bar top. "And besides, if you're closed, why are you on the bar stool?"

"Because we own the place and I'm resting for a bit." the man answered.

The man behind the bar glanced down to what was under it for a moment. "Uh, let's just serve him a drink. Can't hurt none."

"Fine, go ahead."

The bartender turned and grabbed a small glass from the counter and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the shelf. As the bartender came back to serve, the Ranger couldn't help but notice that the man on the stool was starting to tremble very slightly with a bead of sweat forming at his forehead.

"So...where you from? That's quite some riot armor you got." he asked to make small talk.

The bartender placed the glass down and filled it up with rich brown whiskey. The Ranger looked down at it as the bartender stepped back. The liquid reflected in his red lenses as he inched his hand towards it while the two waited for him to take off his mask and pick up the glass as the bartender slowly reached his hand out under the bar.

"You can't drink with that mask on, can you?" the bartender asked.

"Why do you ask?" the Ranger tilted his head up to him. "Is it because you want my face to be exposed so you can shoot me with that gun under the bar?"

Both men froze in place as the bartender's hand stopped a few inches from the handgun. That moment was all the Ranger needed. In a flash he snatched the knife from the cutting board, twirled it downward and drove the blade into the man's right arm where the hand and wrist connected. The blade went deep into the old wooden bar top and pinned the man there. It took a few moments for the man to realize what just happened before screaming at the top of his lungs, and the fact that the blade had lemon juice on it didn't help as it only made his stab wound sting. The bartender tried to reach for the gun again as the Ranger pulled out his Redhawk and aimed right at his head to keep him in place. The man felt faint and struggled less as his blood started to spill off the counter top. The Ranger reached his hand out and grabbed the man's shirt sleeve near the shoulder and pulled sharply, ripping the fabric and revealing a tattoo of a dull reddish bull. The bull of the Legion.

"You both have traveled far away just to hide." the Ranger spoke with a cold malice in his synthesized voice. The hand holding the gun trembled with anger as the thought to just end them came to mind. "But it doesn't matter where you go. I will hunt down the last of you Legion generals to the ends of the earth if I have to!"

"Please! We were...just following orders!" the man said through pained gasps. "You people won at the fucking dam! The Legion is done! Can't you just leave us be?!"

"Do you take me for a fool? I know who you are! The NCR had highly detailed intel of key generals in the Legion! Including you two! And neither side won that battle! The Legion was just broken beyond recovery." he grabbed the knife and gave it a twist. "And I also know you used to lead raids on villages, and you had a particular means of getting rid of those you considered too weak to enslave. Your men would dig big holes and throw in those you deemed unfit for service and douse them in gas, kerosene, oil, anything flammable and burn them alive. So don't give me that 'just following orders' bullshit!"

The man clenched his teeth as more pain shot up his arm and he whispered something in Latin. "You shall die here, bear!"

The bartender tried to lunge for the Redhawk, but the Ranger anticipated it easily as he turned his head and put a bullet between the bartender's eyes. He fell against the back of the bar, knocking over several bottles and glasses and sent them falling to the floor before his body went flopping down. The Ranger then turned his gun on the man, aimed it straight at his head and cocked the hammer.

A door at the back flung open and two men with submachine guns hanging from their hips stepped out.

"Were you idiots napping back there or something?! Kill this bastard!" the man shouted to them.

They grabbed their guns and took aim. The Ranger hurled himself away from the bar as the men started shooting at him. Bullets punctured the floor as he reached a big round table with thick wood and flipped it over just as the bullets began to pelt it. Once their magazines ran out and they started reloading. The Ranger rose up from cover and aimed his Redhawk at the men. He fired two shots at the one on the right, striking him dead center in the chest. The other one ran towards the bar as the Ranger turned his gun and fired the last two rounds and managed to graze the guard's shoulder as he landed behind cover. The Ranger cursed and started reaching for ammo in a coat pocket as the man got back up with his submachine gun and started firing again as the Ranger got back down and turned the heavy table to block the spray of bullets. The former Legion general was still pinned to the table, he yelled over the gunfire since the guard was firing so close to him. He gave the knife another tug and finally pulled it out and fell to the floor.

The guard ran out of ammo again as the Ranger reload one bullet into his revolver and sprang up and fired. Before the guard could fully reload, the bullet went though his face right under the nose and out the back of his head. The guard collapsed and fell near the body of the bartender. The Ranger was breathing heavily after his quick fight and started reloading his Redhawk before his attention turned to a scream running towards him. The Legion general ran across the room with his injured arm hanging limply and managed to tackle the Ranger to the floor. They both rolled around as the Legion general managed to roll on top and drive the knife down as the Ranger lost hold of his revolver. The Ranger crossed his arms at the wrists and blocked the blade from reaching his red lense mask. He shouted a long string of curses in Latin, letting out the Legion side that he had been hiding for so long.

"Profligate! I hang your armor up for all to see!" he shouted while grabbing the handle with his other bleeding hand despite the pain to put more weight on it.

The Ranger was starting to lose strength as the blade inched closer to his face. But a sudden idea came to mind as he quickly removed his left hand, allowing the knife to come down faster. It gave him the moment he needed to grab the gladius by the hilt and unsheathe it. Hearing the blade made the Legion man turn his head to it. Seeing a hand forged blade that went to the highest ranks of the Legion filled him with surprise and anger. The Ranger moved his wrist to allow the knife to strike the curve of his helmet and scrape off. The tip of the blade stabbed into the wooden floor as the Ranger turned the gladius upward and drove the tip into the man's ribs. His scream was caught in his throat because of the pain as the Ranger pushed himself back up while driving the blade in deeper.

The former general fell over as the Ranger got up off the floor and pulled the blade out of the man's chest. He looked down at him as blood seeped out of his deep wound. He tried to speak but could only wheeze and cough blood, the blade had sliced into his lung and probably poked the other, making his death certain. The Ranger didn't bother saying anything else, he already said what he wanted and simply turned away, grabbed a bar towel to clean off the blood and then picked up his Redhawk and reloaded it.

After that he left the bar, not even looking back as he stepped out into the open and saw a small crowd of more than a dozen people standing around after hearing the noise and gunfire but they were all too afraid to come in and find out. The Ranger thought they might attack or arrest him but they just stood in place. The town didn't exactly have any form of law and everyone just kept to themselves.

"Bar's closed." the Ranger said to them. "And it will be until a new manager takes over. So you all sort it out..."

The sun was starting to set as he headed back to Hunter Town to turn in for the night. His anger melted away for now after another high rank Legion general was dead by his hands. And soon he will start his search over again for more remnants hiding in the Wasteland.

()()()()()

After a few hours it was way past dusk as the four slave hunters sat at the same round table from earlier. They ended up arguing for a bit over their leader's plan already backfiring before it even got started. But to their luck the Ranger finally returned, surprising the group as he made his way towards the table and pulled up a chair and sat down, placing his arms on the table and clasping his fingers together.

"So what's the job you want to hire me for?"