For two days the duo hiked through desert and mountain, finally arriving at the mouth of The Divide. They had made simple camp on the eve of each night, trading off watch in order to make sure the other could slumber safely. It was during these watches that Vulpes would glance over to Julia's backpack and watch as she laid resting. She slept like she was, peaceful and uninhibited. Sometimes he'd venture to brush a thick curl out of her face, or lean in to smell the sweaty fragrance of a woman.
She was intoxicating, and it took every fiber of his being not to grasp her by the arms, rip her clothes off, and teach her the dangers of men. He'd roll over in his mind how this would come to pass eventualy, once she trusted him enough, once she needed him enough. He'd take her in a way that suited him and leave her to follow him not knowing what else to do. It was easy enough, get her liquored up, or take her when she was half asleep and then convince her it was part of a great blossoming love. Then once she was at Cottonwood Cove she'd learn the real price that had to be paid for his affections. Part of him couldn't wait to see here like that, on bended knee, wearing the thin dress that passes as clothes for a pleasure slave, begging him to give to her what she thought he had given freely before.
He would own her. Vulpes repeated these words to himself as he walked into a small town clustered between great rocky ravines. The old world buildings were in better repair than most, and a few small shacks were built up between the buildings out of random metal and wood. There were an abundance of small gardens, and a few larger sections marked as community farms. It seemed this was a primarily agricultural community that pooled its resources for the greater good. It even seemed they had started rudimentary Big Horner and Brahmin ranching on the edge of the settlement where some of the desert brush grew in thick veins.
The air in the community was light, and it seemed to infect Julia. He grimaced as he realized she was headed for an NCR building. It seemed the NCR had already moved into this place, ignoring the town as they dug into an old vault looking for new technology. This was what Julia had come to deliver; a box containing some robot they thought might be related to missile silo's resting under the earth. It made Vulpes smile to think of the happy community above, with its destruction festering in warheads and silo's scattered under and about the old world compound.
"I'll show you were the inn is Mr. Fox," Julia said with a cheery voice as they approached a long building probably used as an office before the war.
"Call me Alan for now, my dear," Vulpes responded and attempted a kind smile from his normally stoic face.
"Alan," Julia repeated, "It sounds to casual for you. I'd give you a far more exotic name."
This forced a brief, harsh laugh from the lips of the Legionary as he followed behind his guide. Once inside Julia insisted on paying for his room, a bounty of caps now swinging in her pocket making her feel generous. Vulpes thanked her and made his way to a sparse but clean room, with a long bed made up with a hand sown quilt. He took stock of the room, enjoying the sunlight that streamed in through the small window, and looked outside.
What he saw in the yard made him grow stiff with anger. His hand grasped the windowsill, his knuckles white with rage. Outside Julia was wrapping her arms around the neck of a well tanned young man, and giving him a small kiss as he spun her through the air. She then settled down against the boy's chest and he petted her hair gently, trying not to disturb her curls too much.
It was unmistakable that the two were intimate. Probably this was her first clumsy lover, all paws and need, no real passion. He instantly hated the young man for it. HIs blood rose up into his throat as he thought of this fellow running his hands down her pristine smooth body, his lips kissing her in all the places Vulpes had already imagined claiming a million times. He had to calm himself, force himself down from a black rage as he imagined the boy making love to Julia one night on a blanket atop one of these old houses, the stars and moon their only lights. The Legionary picked up an old mason jar, placed next to a jug and bowl on an old world desk to provide drinks and face washing, and threw the jar at the wall, smashing it.
He stormed out of the small inn, away from where the couple had started to move off to. As he stomped away he thought of how their hands were entwined with a casual touch the likes of which men of the Legion avoided least they seem weak. He marched more than he walked up a path on the side of one of the cliffs, and glared down at the settlement, imagining the place burning beneath him. The screams of the people as they were crucified or sold off into slavery served too sooth him. Pain was something familiar to Vulpes, the joy of bringing it to the wicked, and this town had become wicked to him in ways few others had. His last soothing image was of the boy that kissed Julia, bespattered with his own blood, hanging from a cross, his organs dangling down from his slit stomach, curling at the base of the cross.
The Legion would come to The Divide now. They would march upon it, subdue the NCR, and take the town for their own. None who lives so happily here would survive. He would see to it as soon as he was at Cottonwood Cove. This place was a wealth of resources, even if his great living desire right now wasn't to see this place pulled apart, Caesar would thank him for securing the pass and bringing these farms to his collective.