The sun was just beginning to rise in the east over the desolate Mojave Wasteland. Two figures navigate their way across the rocky landscape, the lack of light allowing only their silhouettes to be seen. They are this story's protagonists: John Mercer and Jessica Sawyer. The ex-ranger and the escaped slave. They were making their way to the source of a radio broadcast that was being transmitted by a caravan company. The man over the radio said they needed some guards for a caravan run up to some of the northern states: Utah, Idaho, and Montana, mainly. This was the first time John had ever heard of any Mojave caravan company going up that far into the unfamiliar lands of the north in hopes they can sell supplies to make some caps. John saw this as a good opportunity to earn caps while seeing the rest of America-what was left of it, at least. Jess heartily agreed.
The sun had now risen above the desert and bathed it with light. John looked at the sun to determine what the time was. About 6:30. "Alright… let's have some breakfast," John said, "then we'll continue north towards the broadcast signal." John broke off some wood from a nearby uninhabited and damaged house, and then set it alight with two matches after pouring some whiskey on it. The fire was set. John pulled out a frying pan and told Jess to hold it over the fire. She did as she was told. John made two Wasteland Omelets with their leftover ingredients. "Well, now we're probably not going to eat something like this for a few days," Jess chuckled.
John stamped on the fire until it was no more and prepared to set out. Suddenly, Jess let out a yelp that made John stand upright. He turned around and saw the muzzle of an assault rifle aimed at his head by a strange looking fellow in leather armor. The man had two other men similarly armed and dressed beside him. These men looked like freelancers; mercenaries. They often hunted bounties for the highest payer. The leader looked to be the man on the right of the one who was pointing the gun at John's head. He held a piece of dirty paper in his hand. John could make out see some writing, but couldn't quite make it out. The man cleared his throat and began to read from the paper.
"To all bounty hunters and mercenaries: Caesar's Legion is offering a reward of two hundred caps for the return of escaped slave Jessica Sawyer. She is to be kept alive and returned healthy and well. Return her to Centurion Sergius Paulus at Cottonwood Cove for compensation," He lectured, then showing the drawing of Jess on the paper. It looked exactly like her. "So, sweetheart, I suggest you come along quietly unless you want your buddy's brains splattered all over this here rock."
"Hey, Jo," The man to the left of the one pointing the gun at John's head, "Isn't that the one who they was offering a bonus for?"
Jo, the one with the paper, looked over it again and read aloud, "A bonus payment will be given for John Mercer, the man who set the slave free. Alive: two hundred caps. Dead: one hundred caps. Be warned: He is lethal. Take alive only if deemed possible…" Jo snickered, "Two hundred extra caps for this lethal bloke? This deal is getting better every moment!"
"I have a proposition for you…" John began, "How about you take Jess and I pay you two hundred caps and you let me go?" The man with the gun turned his head to consult his other gang members, and murmurs of "That sounds fair…" could be heard. John took this time to restrain the assault rifle holder in a chokehold with his left arm. He took his right hand and pulled the trigger on the assault rifle, letting out a spray of bullets. Jo and the other guy fell dead at the sound and the man with the assault rifle was strangled to death. John observed the bloody scene with a sigh. "This just keeps getting worse and worse, doesn't it?" He told himself. He walked over to Jo's bullet-riddled corpse and picked up the paper he held. It had some blood stains, but was still readable.
"Well, they found us…" Jess said with a look of fear upon her face, "They're going to try and take me back…" Tears began to well up in her eyes. John turned around and strode over to her. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he said, "No. Nothing's gonna harm you. Not while I'm around. I won't let them take you away, Jess. They'll have to pry you from my cold, dead hands if they want you. I'm here to protect you. That's my quest." Jess, hearing these words, began to smile a little and wipe the tears away.
"Thank you, John…" She sniffled. She straightened her posture and cleared her throat. "Now what are we waiting for? We have that caravan company waiting or us! We have the chance to see what's outside of the Mojave right in our reach! Let's go!" Jess ran off to the west. "Jess!" John yelled. She turned. "This way!" John pointed north.
"Right!" Jess ran past him. John chuckled and began to follow.
A few hours later, the two caught sight of a small camp inhabited by men, women, and two or three pack brahmin. Some people were gathered around the fire, others were loading packs with supplies for the long road ahead. A large man with a huge beard came pacing towards the two. It wasn't until he stood before him that John realized just how tall he was. This man towered over John by a good nine inches, his gray eyes staring down at the shorter ranger. John cleared his throat and began to speak: "We're here for the caravan trip?"
The giant's face was slowly turning into a smile. He clapped a huge hand on John's shoulder and gave out a hearty laugh. "Well, of course you are! Who wouldn't want the chance to see the mysterious lands north of here? No caravan in all of the NCR's been up to Montana, and by gum, we'll be the first! History in the making!" The giant had quite a loud voice. John couldn't help but smile when he compared the man before him to an Old World picture of a mountaineer.
"Yes! We're here for the caravan heading to the northlands. Are you the leader of this expedition?" John asked.
The man nodded. "Sure am, pard. The name's Atticus Finch Wilks, caravaneer for the Saratoga Caravan Company."
"Atticus Finch? Like from To Kill a Mockingbird?" John inquired.
"Good to know some people still read these days," Atticus remarked, "yes, pard. From the book. It's a classic! ... I like you, boy! What's your name?"
"John Mercer, former NCR Ranger. This is my friend Jess." Jess said hello and Atticus tipped his hat in return. Then he spoke: "A former Ranger, huh? Well, butter me and call me a flapjack! I struck it lucky today! With your experience, we should be safe as houses! Welcome aboard, friends!"
"Thank you kindly!" John said. Jess looked around and let out a low whistle. "Quite a lot of folks you got here, Finch."
"Well this'll be the biggest operation we've undertaken since we left Saratoga to set up a branch in the Mojave. We have three pack brahmin: Gerald, Mayella, and Tabitha. They're all loaded up with supplies and goods to sell any people who may be up there. Oh, I'm getting excited just thinking about it! Our little caravan company will be the first to make a trip to the north and come back! It tickles me pink just thinking 'bout it!" Atticus exclaimed with a huge smile, "We are leaving tomorrow at dawn and won't be back for a couple o' months, so I hope you all said your good byes and are ready for the long journey ahead."
"Oh, trust me Finch, we're ready!" Jess cried out, "Montana, here we come!"
"That's the spirit, little lady! It's that kind of enthusiasm that will make this whole trip worthwhile!" Atticus shouted excitedly, "Now, make yourselves at home! We're glad to have you and we'll treat ya' fair. You'll receive your pay when we return, and your pay depends on how much of a success this grand journey is. So, settle down. Rest. We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow!"