AN: Alright chapter 3 of Fallout: Unforgotten. (Yet another chapter written during my creativity explosion) and I'm starting to tire out but don't worry as soon as I'm all rest up I'll be back to writing chapters in no time!
As Amata began her walk out of town she saw the water tower Sunny mentioned. Despite her instinct yelling at her to simply keep moving she reasoned that she could spare a few minutes to at least catch a glimpse of the famed city of New Vegas. She diverted from the road and headed towards the water tower, as she climbed the hill leading to it she could see headstones sticking out of the top of the hill and once she reached the top she was greeted with an incredible sight as the full moon hanged high above the cloudless night sky Amata could see the city of New Vegas shining like a beacon in the darkness. It was almost as if the city was calling out for her, offering her safety and fun.
'Was this what he wanted to see? Is that where he ended up at? Regardless I have to go there it's the only lead I have.' Amata thought, unknowingly to her the city's lights had acted as a Siren's call and she had subconsciously started walking towards it and had clumsily fell into an open unmarked grave. The fall snapped her out of her trance and the grave served as a stark reminder that someone was out to kill her even though that particular individual was currently tied up in the abandon gas station. Amata pulled herself out of the grave and dusted herself off. She had enough sightseeing to last her a while and secretly hoped no one saw her fall in. She picked up her pace in hopes for lost time and was quickly back on the road towards Primm. Amata was use to the sounds of night in the Capitol Wasteland but it was different in the Mojave. Coyotes howled in the distance and geckos brushed against shrubbery as they hunted for their meals all together they told her two things. One she was no longer in the Capitol Wasteland and two she was not alone but what concerned her was a small distinct sound of metal jingling but her mind was quick to dismiss the obvious and chalked it up to first night paranoia. It wasn't the first time her ears had played tricks on her when she walked the wastelands at night but she had learned to overwrite the shivers that would make their way down her back. However she couldn't overwrite the surprise feeling of terror when a dark figure leaned against a sign showing the way to Primm. The dark figure took out a match and lit the cigarette in his mouth revealing the one person Amata could've gone several life times without seeing, The Courier. The faint orange glow of embers from his cigarette was the only light that showed his face. Amata quickly pointed her cowboy repeater and readied herself for a fight.
"Oh come on, put that thing away. It insulting really." He told her as he took a pull from his cig. Amata dared not to move hoping that the darkness gave her some cover, but that thought was quickly squashed as the Courier moved with the same lightning fast reflex as Amata saw earlier with her captor and soon she was looking down the barrel of his Ranger Sequoia.
"Now, you know and I definitely know, you would be dead right about now. If was going to kill you, I would've done it when you hilariously feel into that open grave, which ironically was to be mine back in Goodsprings." He pointed out as he let the smoke escape from his lungs.
"Plus I really don't like guns being pointed at me." He added menacingly as he placed his thumb on the hammer of his revolver.
"Any chance we can simply go our separate ways?" Amata asked.
"I don't know, is that what you want?" he retorted eyeing her cowboy repeater.
"I just want to look for my friend, I heard he might be in New Vegas. I was in no way looking for trouble." Amata answered slowly lowering her rifle in hopes to get him to do the same.
"Well trouble has a funny way of finding you out here in the Mojave, whether you want it to or not." He stated as he began to slowly pace back and forth.
'Great, this guy is a nut job!' Amata thought, as she watched him pace.
"In the ten minutes it took to free myself, by the way you suck at tying knots, I thought of about 20 different ways to kill you, but in the eight minutes thirty-five seconds it took to get my stuff back and smash Trudy's right hand with her lovely radio she likes to listen to. She told me you had no idea who I was, which then presented me with a conundrum. Can I kill someone who was completely outside the loop and given what they know now would they've done it in the first place? So I figure let me simply ask her. So would you have done the same thing knowing what you know now?" he asked stopping to look Amata in the eye.
"I would've gone about a different way in getting my hat back." Amata answered him. In hindsight it seemed stupid for a hat that cost her 10 bottle caps.
"Yes, the hat, the next subject to talk about." He noted nodding to it.
"Can't you just buy your own?" Amata pleaded.
"Yes, but it wouldn't be your hat." He reasoned.
Amata reasoned that it would be pointless and stupid to fight over a piece of head wear and he would probably take the hat off her corpse anyway, so with a heavy sigh she removed her hat and tossed it to him. He caught it with his free hand and placed it on his head.
"I do think it looks better on me anyway." He noted.
"Has anyone ever tell you that you're an asshole?" Amata asked.
"Four hundred-fourteen you'd be four hundred-fifteen." He noted giving it some thought, he stepped aside and waved her through.
"Enjoy your stay in the Mojave." He said tipping his newly acquired hat as she walk by.
"Asshole." She muttered under her breath.
"Four hundred and fifteen." He grinned with his cigarette.
Despite losing her hat Amata breathe a sigh of relief but soon discovered it was made prematurely. As she walked along the night road toward Primm she soon heard the familiar rhythmic sound of small metal hitting the pavement. She glanced behind her and saw the Courier following 30 paces behind her, whenever she stop he'd stop and when she started again he'd start again. It was a tactic straight from the page of Butch and his Tunnel Snakes.
"Can you not do that?" she asked him.
"Do what?" he replied innocently which only annoyed her further.
"Whatever happened to going our own way?" she asked with a hint of annoyance in her voice.
"We are, I just so happen to be going to New Vegas as well and this is the safest way." He answered.
'Great, he's going to be following you all the way there!' Amata mentally fumed.
"Well can you at least walk ahead of me?" she asked.
"I like the view from back here, I feel… safer with you leading." He answered with a grin.
"So immature." She started to rant to herself as she walked off.
"Fourteenth" he noted to himself as he started to walk after her.
Soon Amata could see the big roller-coaster that marked Primm's location in the distance along with a few small lights as she neared closer she saw a guard standing at his post near the entrance to the town and figured she ask him for his help.
"Excuse me but there's this guy right behind me. He's been following me from Goodsprings is there any way you could just delay him just a bit." She asked turning on her charm, she could see it working on his ego as he stuck his chest out a little further and stood a little taller.
"Sure little lady, just point him out." He ordered. When she pointed toward the Courier any sense of bravado quickly left him. Amata could see the blood beginning to drain from his face and for a moment thought to see him slightly shaking. He shot her a serious look.
"Listen lady, he's not doing anything illegal, hell even if he did. I don't get paid enough to deal with him fuck, I wouldn't deal with him for all the money in the Tops vault. Look take it from me, just do your best to ignore him and eventually he'll get tired of it, just pray he doesn't shoot you when he does." He told her as he waved her along.
'Is everyone afraid of him?' Amata thought as her heart sank as she crossed the bridge walking into town.
"Needless to say asking the NCR for help is more pointless than throwing a cotton swab at a deathclaw." The Courier noted catching up to her. Upon noticing she had no idea what NCR was he let out a hardy laugh.
"You seriously don't know who or what the NCR is? And you went to them for help?" he said in between fits.
"Well I am new to the area, so the least you can do is cut me some slack." Amata fumed hoping someone would come and save her. Her wish was soon granted but not in the way she thought it would.
"You son of a bitch! Hic." A disgruntle voice called out to the Courier.
'Finally! Someone who's not afraid to stand up to this guy!' she thought as she looked for the bold individual. She soon saw him as he stumbled from between two dumpsters and could soon smell the reason why he was so bold.
'Of course anyone could have the courage to stand up to him as long as they're pumped full of the liquid type.' Amata sighed as the disheveled man stumbled closer to them.
"57th person to call me that, 15th that is drunk at the time of saying it. Deputy Beagle how are you this wonderful evening." The Courier greeted.
"Former Deputy Beagle thanks to you, Asshole, hic," Beagle drunkenly corrected.
"416th second one in the same night." The Courier noted.
"You go and get a damn robot as a fucking sheriff and the first thing it does is fire me." Beagle fumed trying to keep his balance.
"Did you seriously get a robot and made it the sheriff of this town?" Amata asked in utter disbelief.
"Well it was the best thing I could come up with, how was I supposed to know its efficiency parameters would cause it to fire him?" The Courier shrugged.
"You could've gotten a pardon for that sheriff over in NCRCF!" Beagle shouted. Amata shot him a look.
"It would've been too much work, now Deputy Beagle I think you've had too much drink tonight so how about you go on home." The Courier suggested, though it sounded like reasonable suggestion Amata could hear the venom dripping on every syllable. Unfortunately former Deputy Beagle was too drunk to pick up on the more than subtle hint.
"Drunk? I'll show you, I can still shoot straight!" to which Beagle pulled his .357 revolver and pointed at the Courier. No sooner had the sights landed on him, the Courier reacted. With the reflex of a rattlesnake he grabbed Beagles wrist and twisted it into an uncomfortable angle causing the poor drunkard to drop his gun. Out in plain view now Amata could see that the former Deputy's .357 revolver wasn't even loaded and was missing a trigger and a hammer making it nothing more than a harmless paperweight, but that mattered little to the Courier as he began punching the drunkard in the face repeatedly. He grabbed his Ranger Sequoia and was going to shove it in Beagle's mouth but he felt someone grab his arm. Time seemed to stand to a still as the Courier looked at the hand grabbing his arm and the person it belonged to. Amata didn't know what spurred her to grab his arm but something deep down wouldn't let her allow this.
"Excuse me, I believe you have my arm in your hands." The Courier said pointing out the obvious.
"I'm sorry but I can't let you do this." She told him not letting go.
"Whatever happened to you go your way and I go mine?" he asked with a low growl.
"You don't like guns pointed at you and I don't like guns pointed at innocent people." Amata answered standing her ground.
The Courier chewed on the left side of his lower lip as if giving something some thought and then he pulled the trigger sending a .45 caliber round into Beagle's right leg. Beagle's face contorted into horror and pain but before his first scream could escape his mouth the Courier released his grip on the deputy's wrist and applied it over his mouth in an iron=like vice grip effectively muffling his cries.
"The hell is wrong with you!" Amata yelled.
"Nothing's wrong with me, I have a reputation to keep and I believe we found an effective compromise to this little predicament." The Courier replied holstering his revolver to show he had no further intention on shooting someone to which only then did Amata let go of his arm. He leaned close the Beagle who seemed to have sobered up very quickly.
"Now when I take my hand away you going to thank the nice little red head for saving you, anything extra out your mouth will result in me breaking it. Understood?" the Courier asked to which his captive nodded his head in agreement. The Courier released him and backed away.
"Th-Thank you." He meekly offered.
"Now crawl back into your hole and think about reviewing some of your poor life choices." The Courier advised.
It was a sad sight watching the former deputy of Primm scurry back between the dumpsters from which he came. Even though Amata saved him she did feel the normal sense of satisfaction she normally gets from helping someone in need.
"Well. Howdy. There. Partner." A robotic voice cut into her thoughts, Amata turned to see an old protectron model slowly making its way towards them.
"Gunshot. Detected. Is. There. A problem?" it said barely half way toward them.
"Warning. Low. Battery. Shutting. Down." It sputter before cutting off.
"You made a protectron town sheriff?" Amata looked at the Courier incredulously.
"On the bright side he was the greeter for the Vicky and Vance casino so in a way he got a promotion, or an upgrade in robot terms." The Courier smirked.
AN: Three Chapters and not one including the Lone Wanderer, sad I know but it will be a couple of chapters before he come back into the picture. Hopefully Amata can withstand the Courier's antics till then and as always thanks for reading.