Gun Powder and Maps – Chapter 7 – Eyes
Once in Primm, Brooke and Dogmeat headed for the Mojave Express, ED-E's home. Johnson Nash cracked a smile upon his weather worn face and said in his deep, cracked voice, "Hi there, youngster. Come back for your heap of wires and sparks?" Brooke smiled back. "I sure have! I went through a lot of trouble to get this little guy going. I might as well keep him."
She beckoned for ED-E to follow and the machine whirred up unusually slow. Brooke eyed the robot suspiciously and turned to Nash, "Has he been this slow since I've been gone?" The older man scratched his head and sighed, "Today's the first day I've seen this happen. I usually give the contraption a once over with my cleaning rag when he comes back." The courier nodded in understanding. She thanked Nash for everything and went on her way with her two companions back towards the Lucky 38. House would most likely have something for her to do.
As they headed north, deep into the desert, ED-E began to buzz loudly as he floated more sluggishly by the second. Brooke stopped and stared at the airborne mechanism, only to watch it whir down and then land callously into the sand. "Shit!" slipped from her lips as she fell onto her knees. Dogmeat barked and sat next to her sniffing the familiar android. It was humming softly and it quickly grew into a loud drone, making Brooke and Dogmeat both whimper in pain when suddenly it stopped.
As if nothing had happened, ED-E levitated once more and hovered. Brooke walked around her companion, inspecting every inch of his metallic carcass. "ED-E, my friend?" she whispered softly when it answered back, "Brooke, can you hear me?"
She recognized the voice.
"What're you doing invading my robot, House?" the wanderer questioned vehemently. His response came simply, "I need to be able to communicate with you out in the wastes."
"You have no right…"
"But I have my reasons."
"What do you want?" She finally asked, recognizing any argument as futile. He paused for a moment and then bellowed, "There is a barbarian that lives somewhere in Boulder City. I want his eyes."
"What?"
"His eyes. I want his eyes."
Brooke scoffed and began to protest, "Why would I steal his eyes? That's disgusting!" A long pause came from the other end and House finally started up, "They call him the Starer. He rips the eyes out of his victims head and carries them with him. But I don't want those. I want his. Put them in ice when you get them. I need them as fresh as I can get them."
"Justice and a cruel agenda. I'm not sure whether to like it or not."
"Are we done discussing this? Bring me his eyes, Brooke."
"Yes, sir," came Brooke's meek reply and she headed for the shattered Boulder City.
The town had never been very lively, the only thing keeping it there being the NCR monument. With one lonely saloon, the Big Horn Saloon, run by a balding man named Ike, it was not exactly considered a vacation hot spot. Brooke arrived with Dogmeat and ED-E in tow, only the wind welcoming them. She headed straight for Ike's establishment, the sun almost midway to sunset. A water bottle wouldn't hurt, but what she really wanted from Ike was an idea of who this Starer was.
Although the windows were crusted and weather worn on the Big Horn, she could tell the inside was dark and desolate. Hoping her eyes were playing tricks on her, she opened the saloon door and walked in. No one. Everyone must have packed up when the Starer moved in.
Brooke jeered at the discovery and proceeded to the back of the tavern. She grabbed a dusty glass tumbler, rinsing it clean with one of her purified waters. A still cold galvanized bucket of ice sat upon the counter, waiting to be used. The wastelander looked at her glass, down at Dogmeat who cocked his head in wonderment, and back at the glass. She threw it at the wall, shattering it, and grabbed the bucket, wrapping it in a spare bar towel that was ratting at the corners.
She heaved it under her arm and the group walked outside when suddenly a chopping sound could be faintly heard. "Stay here," was the only words that escaped her lips as she left the ice bucket with her canine, and Dogmeat obediently sat down, ED-E silently buzzing beside him.
The chopping sound grew louder as Brooke moved farther into the ruins of the once standing Boulder City. Suddenly the hacking stopped and her breath slowed as she ducked behind a wrecked pillar. The silence was then replaced by a dragging ruckus and she began her pursuit again.
A bloody table came into the courier's view, and she stopped. The dragging stopped too, and she saw a lumbering figure heave something limp onto the table. It was a farmhand by the looks of his clothing, the missing eyes and mangled body proof he was dead. The lumbering man heavily breathed, almost gurgling on his intake of oxygen and extended a hand, running it through the locks on the dead farmhand's disheveled head.
Brooke held back a gasp when she saw his hands. His fingers were long and lean, ending in nails that had been filed into daggers. They were stained with blood and what was assumed to be the grim from torn eye sockets. This must be the Starer, and this wasn't a man to be dealt with in close combat. His hands were built to claw out eyes.
The woman began retreating slowly, when her calf hit a piece of debris and tripped her backwards onto the sharp rubble. Brooke tried her best to hold in a groan when she glanced back towards the table and did not see the Starer. Her heart began to race when she struggled to her feet. She grabbed her laser rifle off of her back and scanned her surroundings, wheeling around when a clawed hand grabbed the barrel of her rifle. "Fuck," came her reply as she stared up into the gossamer clothed gaze of her enemy.
The rifle was ripped from Brooke's hands and flung amongst the broken concrete and metal. She slowly backed away as the Starer walked towards her getting closer. His build came from muscle and physical prowess, which was only complimented by an angled jaw and Roman-esque nose. Gauze was wrapped around his eyes, now stained with sweat and blood, his eyes barely visible beneath the fabric. Dirty blonde hair grew on splotches upon his sun-beaten head, looking as if most of it had been pulled out. He wore only a pair of grimy denim overalls, a small rough-hewn sack hanging through one of the belt loops. From the looks of the round orbs bulging in the bottom, Brooke assumed they were his prizes; eyes.
But the thought never surfaced in her mind as Brooke's hands flew up in front of her, blocking the man's blow, but his nails clawed into her skin and she muffled her own scream through a clenched jaw, forcing a putrid smile onto the Starer. She was beginning to regret her choice in light armor, but then again, she never thought this would turn into a brawl from an assassination.
The Starer swung again and the vaultie ducked, but another clawed hand flew downwards and grabbed her by the neck. Brooke was held in the air like a small kitten, and she choked, her own hands clawing the rough attackers hide. To no avail, she merely pawed his forearms, and the Starer trudged back to his bloody table, flinging the other body off and slamming her into the surface.
He finally released his hold and she sucked in air until her lungs hurt. The man growled with his gurgled breaths and ran his claws through her hair, separating her curls and smoothing her mane. Brooke's hand cautiously moved down to her calf as she stared at him. He ran a nail around her eye, and removed the gauze from his gaze, staring upon her with the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen. Brooke was momentarily dazzled by his gawk, the Starer readying his hand to plunge into her face to rip out her green eyes with his vicious nails.
There was no way Brooke saw herself over-powering the man, and her hand groped the blade in her boot, bringing it up swiftly until the edge cleanly cut into the Starer's artery upon his neck. Blood spewed forth onto both persons, and the killers hands flew to the wound. His face became horror-stricken and he stumbled back, the iron filled liquid beginning to spill from his maw. Wiping blood from her vision, Brooke rolled off the table and shakily stood, staring down at the dying man.
Once she knew he was dead, Brooke took her knife and tried her best to cut out the delicate looking eyes that had belonged to a serial killer. She juggled the eyes as she ran back to Dogmeat and ED-E, and plunged her bloody fists into the ice bucket, releasing the eyes deep inside. "We've gotta go now, guys," she said breathily, grabbing the bucket, jogging to retrieve her laser rifle, and finally running out of the city.
She planned on trying her damndest to run all the way back to New Vegas.
A/N: Story statuses are on my profile page. I try to update them frequently. To everyone whose been following me, ya'll have really renewed my interest in writing this thing! Double thanks for reading and reviewing!