"So, do you have any experience with rifles?"
The question caught Maya slightly off guard. She'd never really considered it something strange - sure, she'd touched a rifle, knew how to actually make it shoot, but... she'd never really seen a reason to carry one. She wasn't some hunter or bodyguard, and couriers either travelled with well-defended caravans, or alone. A rifle was too much weight. Shaking her head, she looked at the brunette, who pulled a varmint rifle from her back, passing it to her. She'd only caught her name - Sunny Smiles - all of five minutes ago, but she seemed pretty nice and welcoming. Maya took the rifle, raising it to her shoulder in the way that she'd seen others do, before glancing at Sunny, who nodded and spoke once again.
"Careful - it's a varmint rifle, so there's not much kick, but you should still be careful. Close an eye, make sure you're aiming well. Try one of those bottles."
The brunette gestured to a fence that held a few bottles of Sunset Sarsaparilla. Maya had managed to get a bottle in the bar, and... well, it was one regional drink that she'd skip. An acquired taste, probably. She tried to steady her breathing, focusing on the bottle and the rifle, ignoring all other sounds. She adjusted the rifle, moving it the slightest bit up, and fired.
It missed. Not by a mile - the small flew only a small bit to the left - but it was still a miss. She exhaled, already feeling exasperated. Had she really been expecting to hit her first shot, after being out for several days? Hell, she was lucky that she could even shoot a gun without collapsing on the ground. She knew that it was a whole "practice, practice, practice" type of deal, but that did little to comfort her. She couldn't - and she didn't want to - stick around this town, in the middle of nowhere, shooting bottles and being a nuisance. She raised the rifle again, aiming and firing. Another miss - this one to the right. She pulled the bolt back again, practically jamming it forwards as she took a third shot.
"Huh. Well, I guess that's a... partial success. Maybe a rifle isn't your style?"
Maya lowered the rifle upon hearing Sunny speak, looking at the bottles. She'd missed the one she was aiming for, but she'd missed it by enough to hit the next one over. Huh. Maya cracked a smile, shaking her head at the accomplishment. Well, if anyone ever tried to shoot at her, maybe she'd just aim slightly to the side. Nonetheless, she nodded, propping the varmint rifle up against a fence post, and taking out her pistol. The standard Mojave Express nine millimeter that she normally carried was gone, presumably stolen by the well-dressed man and his accomplices. Still, the good doctor had seen it fit to give her one hell of a replacement: an old N-99 ten millimeter pistol. From a Vault, according to him. It was a bit scratched, but she'd heard good things about that type of gun. Bury it, throw it in a river, shoot it, burn it, and someone with no training and a bit of metal can repair it in a minute. She raised the pistol, smiling.
The first shot went too high, but the second one collided with her target. She pivoted, turning to face the remaining bottles on the right, and fired. Another bottle exploded in a shower of glass and satisfaction. Two more shots - two more messes of broken glass for some poor soul to clean up. The last bottle made the wise decision to retreat, swaying and falling off the fence into the sand. Maya adjusted a lock of red hair that had already managed to come down over her right eye, before holstering the pistol and turning.
"Hey - if I ever end up having to fight an army of stationary targets that don't shoot back... I'll be in the clear."
Sunny responded with a short laugh, before grabbing the varmint rifle, and tossing it over to Maya. The redheaded woman managed to just barely catch it, scrambling to avoid letting it fall. She cast an inquisitive look at Sunny. The rifle had been an utter failure, hadn't it?
"Keep the rifle. The pistol's what you're good at, but you'll always want a backup, or an option for range. Not too heavy, either."
The brunette turned, finally giving attention to the rather-large dog that had been trying to get her attention. Cheyenne, or something along those lines. Still, her advice was true. The rifle was remarkably light, which probably had something to do with the fact that it was mostly wood, and wasn't useful for anything bigger than the average gecko, unless you were a good shot. She wasn't going to refuse the advice of someone who'd just given her free - albeit very short - shooting lessons, but she could always end up accidentally using the rifle for kindling, or dropping it while running away from something. Selling it would probably be a better idea, though. Speaking of which - the doc had given her a few stimpaks along with an actual Pip-Boy from his endless reserve, and she had a bit of ammunition left before she was in any serious trouble, but...
"Hey, um, Sunny? I don't suppose there are any... jobs around here, or anything like that? I doubt anyone apart from doctor Mitchell really works for free."
She was still surprised that even he hadn't at least asked her for any caps she had on her, or stolen an organ to pay back the cost of whatever he'd treated her with. Maybe it was just one of the perks that came with a town as small as Goodsprings: be kind to your neighbor, don't charge them for injuries, and they'll protect you, maybe get you some food. Not that it seemed to stop them from having a store that brutally overcharged for almost every single thing they sold. Sunny didn't turn around from the dog, rubbing it behind the ears as she spoke.
"Jobs? Not that I know of. Slow time, I guess. Not that much happening before you showed up. But... there's always the schoolhouse. It's just south of here, you can't miss it. Few of us have been meaning to head over there - there's a few caps lying around, and a safe that we couldn't get open. Maybe you can give it a shot, though."
Sunny turned around, standing back up to full height - which was still somewhat shorter than Maya - and offered her a small bag. Lockpicks. The redhead gave a nod, smiling again. Lockpicking a safe in a schoolhouse... she didn't expect a bag of grenades, but there was always the chance that someone had left an emergency stash of supplies, or one or two technological wonders. At least it was something that she was decent at doing.
At least she'd managed to find a good use for the rifle. Maya, her mind filled with such a thought, brought the stock of the rifle down onto yet another giant mantis creature. Sunny, it seemed, had "forgotten" to mention the giant goddamn bug infestation inside the schoolhouse. She carefully sidestepped the crushed remains of one of the bugs, trying her very best to avoid touching the corpse. She hated the things: she'd only seen them once or twice back in Cali, but even once was one too many times. She could handle looking at the giant bear abominations, the other assorted creatures that were about the size of a small house, but insects? Those tiny bastards needed to be cleansed in fire. It didn't help that the universe's cruel sense of humor seemed to involve making them increasingly massive. At least these things were small enough to go down when crushed.
She snapped out of her thoughts as she walked into the final room, looking around. It was small, with a floor made of messy wooden planks, torn up here and there. The windows were, surprisingly enough, not boarded up. It seemed that nobody had bothered to try to live in here. Probably explained the bugs, but... aha. There it was. A small, metallic square near the back of the room, set into the ground. A desk sat next to it, with a small terminal sitting on it. Next to it lay a small bag, and... huh. A handgun. Well, she certainly wasn't it the first to be here, unless the Pre-War world had disciplined kids via a round to the knees. She imagined that was more of a recent trend, however. She picked up the gun, placing it gently into a pocket. She'd stick with the more reliable N99, but a backup never hurt - the varmint rifle was being relegated more to "improvised melee weapon". The small bag contained a few caps, what appeared to be an unused flare, and an unopened box of Fancy Lads Snack Cakes.
She was willing to forgive Sunny for the whole "bug infestation" thing. A box of Fancy Lads, sometimes known under their alternative name of "greatest food to ever have been created". The fact that actually re-creating them was next to impossible was one of the greatest cruelties, in her opinion. How anyone could've pushed a button and destroyed the entire production system for them, she couldn't perceive. Maybe it was just a matter of not travelling enough: that, somewhere, probably in the cold North, was a hidden empire with the last remaining factory for Fancy Lads. She could test that idea, a bit later. For now, the one box would have to suffice.
Finally snapping out of the snack-induced fantasy, she knelt before the safe in the floor. Now, what made this thing tick? She took out one of the lockpicks, getting to work. For a safe, the lock wasn't exactly well-secured. Turning the pick slightly to the left, before bringing it back around, she heard the satisfying click that indicated that her prize was within reach. Reaching for the door of the safe, she pulled. It didn't budge. She tried the locking mechanism - it moved just enough to prove that it was open. Goddamnit. She tried again, pulling on it to no avail. Jammed. Of course it was - nothing could go too right. It was as if the universe was mocking her. She'd gotten the snack cakes, but now they felt like a consolation prize.
She plopped herself down in the metal chair behind the desk, skulking and thinking. She pulled the rifle of her back. Maybe she could try to... no, shooting it wouldn't work, and it'd probably destroy whatever was inside. She stood up, walking over. There weren't any openings, and it wasn't like she had anything to cut with, much less anything that could cut reinforced steel. Exasperated, she jabbed the rifle at the safe, hitting the keypad with the stock: good stress relief, if nothing else.
The damn thing swung open. Maya stood there, confused for a moment. No, she'd unlocked it, she'd pulled on it... was it some sort of "push" safe? Had some moron, Pre-War, decided that the best way to make a safe was to require someone to push it, thus increasing the chances of it breaking by a massive fucking amount? One more goddamn idiot to add to her list of "graves or corpses to desecrate". Still, her anger at the creator didn't stop her from kneeling next to the now-opened safe, glancing inside.
The contents were... peculiar. No money, no medical supplies... just a small, strange-looking device. It seemed to have a strap for mounting it to your arm, along with a few buttons, and what looked like a rather strange antenna. She pulled it out, bringing it up to the light coming from the window, and reading the small message inscribed into the base.
"RobCo Stealth Boy Three Thousand and One."
Huh. Not bad. Not bad at all. She'd heard of Stealth Boys, the supposed "invisibility device" aspect, but she'd never actually seen one. They were rare, but... according to what she'd heard, somewhat temporary. Something to do with their power drain. She'd save it for a rainy day, or for when she could find a merchant who was willing to pay a good price for it. For now, however, she simply placed it into a pocket. All things considered, a good run. A Stealth Boy, another gun, a box of Fancy Lads, and a few less bugs in the Mojave. Checking to make sure that she hadn't missed anything as she walked through the door, she sighed contently. The day was turning to night - she'd get some rest, make sure everything was loaded, and set out tomorrow morning. Goodsprings was nice, but... she had places to be. People she needed to talk to. Answers to get.