"Cass!" Colt yelled as he jolted forward and sat up in the bed. He felt a stinging sensation roll up his injured limb, into his torso, and into the back of his membrane. He clutched the area the pain originated from. Rough, coarse bandages scrapped against his hand and the area he felt was sensitive to the touch.
"Calm down or you'll open your wounds," a man with a rugged voice said. Colt looked up through the eye-blinding, mind-numbing pain that shocked his nervous system. The man Cass and Colt passed on their way to their motel room was sitting in front of him at a small table. The man was cutting up a Brahmin steak and sipping from a glass full of clear water.
"Who the fuck are you and where the fuck am I?" Colt asked, taking in his surroundings. He wasn't in his own motel room, but, he was in a different one. Although, there wasn't much difference except the way the furniture was organized and how the door and window were positioned. The door was in the far right corner with the boarded up window next to it. The bed was right in front of the window. Little rays of sunlight peeked in and smothered the bed in golden beams. The table and chair was right in front of the bed. The rest of the room was empty. Besides the arrangement of the motel room, Colt even noticed that he was out of his old clothes and was in a dark gray t-shirt and black shorts.
"You're still in Novac; you're just in my motel room. And my name is Boone. Craig Boone," the man said, answering Colt's question while still eating the steak.
"How'd I get here in your room?" Colt further inquired. He leaned back, resting his back on the bed's back board and easing the pain in his injured leg.
Boone set down his knife and fork and turned to Colt, "Well," he began, his sunglasses covering all emotion, "I was up in the dinosaur when I heard someone yell out. So, I came down and investigated. Your motel room door was wide open and I came up to see why; you were knocked out cold on the floor, lying in a puddle of blood. I picked you up, placed you on your bed and patched your wound up as best as I could," Colt rubbed the bandage covering his bullet wound and twitched at the pain that slightly jolted his leg, "Damn good job if I do say so myself," Boone went back to eating his steak, "and then, I carried you here, to my room, so you wouldn't have to rest in that blood soaked room of yours. Jeannie May's in there right now, cleaning it up."
Colt looked down, remembering everything that had happened… "Cass!" He said, jolting forward again. Pain, once more, seared his body. He grimaced at the pain, but kept his upper body in an upright position.
Boone, with a mouthful of steak, stopped eating and looked at Colt. "What?"
"Cass! The woman I arrived here with! Did you see her around when you were coming to my room?"
Boone looked down and said in a low voice, "No, I only found you."
Colt just looked at Boone in disbelief. A cool tear came to his eye and he hung his head low. Cass was gone and he would probably never see her again. All hope was drained from him…
He lifted his head up. The El Dorado Dry Lake, Colt thought to himself and a spark was lit deep inside his core. He needed to get to that lake bed.
Colt held his wound, hoping it would dull the pain as he swung his left leg off the side of the bed. Then he braced himself as he swung his injured right leg off the side and touched the shaggy rug. A shock ran up his leg again, like a tidal wave, but he shoved it to the back of his mind. Colt winced at the increased pain, but he fought through it and tried to stand up. His leg was too weak and his injured muscles strained to support his weight. The pain shook his leg as another wave traveled up into his mind. Colt stumbled forward and collapsed under the sheer pain, but managed to catch himself on the night stand and support his body before he could fall onto the floor completely. A lamp, which was on the night stand, fell and shattered as it struck the floor.
Boone looked up at the shatter of the lamp. "What the Hell are you doing?" He jumped up and hurried to Colt's side. Boone grabbed Colt's arm and supported the weight of the injured man and helped him back onto the bed. "Your leg is too weak. You can't travel in its current state."
Colt looked past the sunglasses and into Boone's eyes, "I have to travel. I have to find Cass." Colt tried to stand once more, but he was forced back down by Boone.
"Not in the state you're in. You'll do more harm than good."
"No!" Colt yelled as he pushed Boone off of him and to the floor. "I have to find Cass!" The desperate man tried to stand once more, his leg shaking wildly with pain. He managed to keep his composure and stand up straight. But he only stood for a good minute before the burning sensation, that was punishing his right calf, became too much and he collapsed onto the bed once more. That minute or two of standing on his own was just enough to prove himself to Boone.
Boone sighed, "What happened to this 'Cass'?" he asked as he stood himself up.
"She was kidnapped," Colt answered through gritted teeth, rubbing the searing hot wound on his leg, remembering what happened the night before, "By a group I have history with."
Boone nodded, solemnly, "I understand. I understand all too well. I know what its like to have someone stolen from you," he said as he walked back over to the table and bent down to go underneath it. He pulled out Colt's bag and threw it on the bed. "Get yourself ready and I guess I'll help you find Cass. I don't have much to do anyway."
Colt nodded as he pulled the bag towards him and opened it. His green camouflaged combat armor, green cloth shirt and pants, the leather utility belt and his black boots were the first things he pulled out. But, he continued to rummage around in the sack, pushing aside bottles of whiskey, Rad Away, Rad-X, cartons of bullets and spare, empty clips for his assault rifle. Eventually, he found what he was looking for; his revolver. The rough leather of the holster and smooth silver of the revolver was cool against his hand as he pulled it out. He set the revolver and its holster to the side for just a minute.
Colt slipped on the cloth shirt and pants; they fit tightly against his skin and helped cool his body down as air breathed through the pores. The air was trapped and helped regulate the wearer's body temperature. This kind of cloth was issued by the Pre-War military to help keep their soldiers cool or warm under certain climate conditions. It was the main reason why Colt didn't die of heat stroke on his long journey from Hub to the Mojave Outpost.
After the shirt and pants were on, Colt slipped on the two armor plates that protected his calves. He winced as the right plate passed over his wound and as it applied pressure when he hitched the clasp, tightening it to his body. Next, he slipped on the knee pads, boots, and tightened the utility belt around his waist. Colt put on his chest plating and shoulder pads next. The chest plating restricted his air flow as he hitched the middle clasp, tightening the plating to his body. Finally, he scooped up his revolver and hitched the holster to a blank spot on the right side of his belt.
Fully dressed in his armor, Colt stood. His armor weighed him down more than before; mainly because he was weak from the loss of blood. It wasn't going to stop him though. He needed to find Cass.
Colt felt an irregular bulge in one of the pouches on his belt. Upon investigation into the pouch, he found his pair of sunglasses and his sliver, engraved lighter. He let out a relieved sigh as he left the lighter in his pouch and pulled out the sunglasses, placing them over his eyes. Boone threw something else towards Colt; it was his hat.
"Can't forget about this," Colt said as he put the worn out hat on his chestnut hair and ran his index finger along the edge.
"Can't forget about this either," Boone commented as he tossed Colt's M16 assault rifle on the bed.
Colt let out a soft chuckle, "Nope, can't forget about this at all. I'm going to need it," he said as pulled back the bolt and made sure there was a bullet in the chamber. The brass shined in the ray of sun that hit it. Colt released the bolt, allowing it to slam shut with a metallic click.
"Oh, and here, I don't think you would want to forget this," Boone set down another bag and a shotgun on the bed; Cass' rucksack and shotgun.
Colt's smile disappeared as he was taken over by heartache at the sight of the two items. He set down his assault rifle and picked up Cass' bag. He held it just for a minute before he put on the bag, which was considerably lighter than his own, and shouldered Cass' shotgun.
"Can you carry my bag?" Colt asked Boone as he picked up his assault rifle.
Boone strapped on a bandolier and put Colt's bag on his back. "Damn, this thing is heavy. What in the world do you have in here?" Boone asked, moving his shoulders, trying to get a feel for having the bag on his back.
"Medical supplies, food, drinks, anything I would need on the trail. You ready?" Colt asked as he walked over to Boone and the door. He had a limp in his step and a burn in his calf, but he felt fine overall.
"Do you have any Stimpaks? We could use them to fix that wound of yours."
"No," Colt answered quickly and bluntly, "I don't use them and don't like them. I hate any kind of drug. If anything, I use the Stimpaks I do have for other people I might come across. Now, are you ready?"
"Yeah, let's go," Boone grabbed a Hunting Rifle leaning against the wall next to the door. "Where are we going, exactly?" He asked, opening the door.
"To the El Dorado Dry Lake just north of Helios One."
A/N: I'm sorry that it took so long to upload a new chapter. I was unable to access a computer for the past few days and I wasn't able to do so. As always, please review and tell me any faults or whether you like it or hate it. I hope you enjoyed reading and continue to read!