Chapter XI:

Chance of Friendship


Gideon


"To all the people of the Mojave, I bring the rays of a new hope. This the New Vegas show and I have wonderful news!"

The auditory glare thundered from the radio as it creaked to news that seemed to bring out the humanity in the speakers' voice for the first time in a while.

"For weeks the outer settlements of the Mojave have been plagued by raids originating from the infamous "Powder Gangers". The back of these raids have been broken, ladies and gentlemen, by the gallant townsfolk of Goodsprings, who formed an impromptu militia and met them on the field of battle. According to the accounts of an old man armed to the teeth with dynamite, the battle actually raged from the town to the lost NCRCF, where only smoky ruins remain."

Part of me gleamed at our handiwork that night. While no doubt the facility was rendered useless, I was surprised of just how effective our efforts had been.

"And to the south, at the township of Primm, NCR soldiers and militia ended the incretious occupation and dispatched the rabble. Today; I announce the nomination of the town's new sheriff and deputy:

"Howdy-doo, I'm Sheriff Meyers.

"And I'm Deputy Primm Slim, yee-haw!

"From now on, this town is under our protection.

"Any who find that loco, will find us waiting.

"So be good, or we'll shoot you dead.

"Now how 'bout a Yee-haw for law and order in the town of Primm!

"That was Sheriff Dick Meyers, and the Securitron Deputy Primm Slim. Good luck to you, lawmen, and now time for the song I feel is appropriate for the moment written by everyone's favorite Louis Armstrong."

The melody of jazz music was slowly flowed to the rest of the background as a small smile arched its way across my face. This is the reward of good work: not gold or fame, but satisfaction. Satisfaction that the ripples you spurred end up creating tidal waves. Then there was a knock on the door, interrupting my thoughts:

"Come."

The door open; revealing free blowing auburn hair that seemed to dance like a star in the spotlight.

"What ya listenin' to?" she asked. I just shrugged:

"Old news."

"Well I've got the gear packed, so I'm gonna go do some shopping." she replied, then her face softened, "Still think he's gonna show?"

"Told him till noon," I replied, "it's only eight o'clock."

"Right, well you want anything in particular?"

"Nah, just gonna be fishing for info. The recording said his contact is here in town, so I'm gonna see what I can find."

"Still think he came through here? For all we know they could be lyin' on the bottom of the Colorado."

"Now that would be a waste!" I spoke with a sense of boisterously merry, to which Cass just laughed, "Nah, I've got the feeling that he's still kicking. By the way, where's ED-E?"

"Oh, the robot? He's been wondering around town all night, but I bumped into in the lobby."

"Good," I replied as I finished tying my boot, "I could use some uncompromising backup."

"Uncompromising?" Cass chuckled, revealing a sly grin, "What, no chances I'm not uncompromising?"

"The first time you two met," I began, my throat dry as I went, "I think he asked for permission to incinerate you."

"Charming," she replied nonchalant with a wide smile, and headed out the door, "see you in a couple of hours."

"Right."

I went to the bedside table and retrieved my long gunbelt. Over the night I had added equipment to it from Nipton. A few Mag-pouches to replace the old ones, a larger med-kit on the left side. On the back though was a sheath for a four inch throwing knife I had found on a Legionary. It was a black Fairbairn-Sykes style honed to a razor's edge.

On the wall had been a paper target that I had attached to a rotting closet door. A long night's practice was made evident with dozens of punch holes either in or surrounding the target paper. It had taken a while, but I felt confident enough to take this thing into the field. As I sheathed Fairbairn, I reached behind my waist to the last, but potentially most dangerous pouch. Its small size hid its true purpose.

I reached in and removed the single Mk-5 Fragmentation Grenade. I stared down at it for a long while before finally putting it back in its place. It was very dangerous tool, I knew. Only a fool plays with explosives. It however had been one of a few weapons me and Cass were keeping. In her case, she'd found an odd looking blade I thought was called a Khukuri or something or other.

Either way, she'd taken a liking to it. The other one had been a remake of a Winchester Lever-action shotgun, 20 gauge model, to 'replace' her Caravan Model 101. She however warned me to not even think about selling it:

"It's my mother's shotgun. 'nough said, right?"

"The thought never even crossed my mind, Cass."

Quietly I stepped out into the balcony, holstering the Browning and Colt when I heard a familiar beeping sound.

"Hey ED-E. What'ya been doing."

He bobbed his mechanical frame about in a shrug.

"Well alright. I'm heading down to the big Tee-Rex. Wanna come along?"

To that, his mood lightened into sunshine as he beeped excitedly. I smiled and headed down the stairs, the robot hovering to catch up. Quickly, I walked across the parking lot and headed up the ramp into the confounds of the giant lizard. When I opened the door, the first thing I noticed was a dark something held in the kindly shopkeepers hands.

"What the hell is that?" I asked, pointing a finger at it.

"This," he began with a smile, "is a—what the hell is that!?"

He pointed over my shoulder and I knew at what. I sighed and shook my head.

"That is my companion, ED-E. I found him at Primm. Now what the hell is that?"

He continued to stare at ED-E, who continued to stare back. Finally, he beeped a response I swore sounded like 'well?". He shook his head and suddenly placed it a concealed drawer.

"Later. We need to talk."

I already had an idea of what.

"Who was it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play funny with me, stranger. First you start asking questions about what happened to Carla, then not a few hours later I hear a single gunshot."

"Well it could've been a raider," I lied.

"Boone wasn't on duty, you smartass," he growled, his normally gentle face contorting into a mask of pure anger, "if you got somebody killed by taking advantage of Boone I swear I…"

"It wasn't like that!' I shot back.

"Then who was it!?" he yelled, rising to his feet so abruptly that he knocked over the swivel chair he was sitting in. Suddenly ED-E shot forward between me and Cliff:

" And that is close enough, stranger! "

"ED-E stand down! Cliff it was Crawford. She's the one who sold out Boone's wife."

Like the aftershock of a bullet fired; an utter, over bearing silence crept into the air and petrified the room. Cliff stared at me in utter disbelief until finally he collapsed into his chair with an exhausted grunt. Finally, his voice grave and somber, he asked the obvious:

"How did you know?"

"I—I found the slave bill in a safe under her desk."

"I don't understand. Out of all of us… she was the most supportive of her. She… it just makes no sense."

"Would there be any reason—"

"I don't know. I… I don't think I know anything anymore."

"I'm sorry, Cliff."

"Look, one way or another Boone needs to go. I don't care what he thinks, people are going to start asking questions and when they do there'll be blood in the streets."

"I already offered to take him along. But you said it yourself: Boone wasn't on duty when it happened."

"I figure it out didn't I? So will others. And they won't care why she died. Do what you have to but get Boone out of town and as far away from here as you can."

For a long while, I didn't reply. I couldn't. Already I felt another added burden being lopped onto my shoulders. I didn't lie when I told Boone I didn't trust people without a past. Without one, there leaves a sense of uncertainty that only leads to complications.

For all practical sense, all logical sense, I was right to keep to my code. But for once I wished I didn't have to deal with baggage. I didn't hold it against Boone, but deep down inside hidden under layers of shattered memory I could feel the scars of a long and tiring life. I hung my head and sighed, focusing to clear away my nostalgic weariness.

I had promises to keep. I had to soldier on. I closed my single eye and with a last bit of effort cleared the fog from my mind.

"I understand," I replied finally, opening my eye to face the world again. With that; Cliff reach his hand under the table and removed the object. It was clearly a handgun, a revolver at that. But it was perhaps the strangest looking weapon I had seen in a long while.

"What is it?"

"This is a Mateba 2019A-2 Auto-revolver."

This 'Mateba' looked enormous in the small man's hands. Imagine taking the cylinder portion of a revolver, removing the hammer and making the cylinder itself a good three inches long. Then imagine that connecting to a five inch barrel that's been built into a half shape, rounded box. Finally underneath that is an odd slide, with two red lights right in the center, adding odd to the handle that looked like it had been custom made out of smooth wood.

"A Matteba, huh? I've never heard of 'em."

"Not many were made. This one I picked up from a junkdealer from the Angel's Boneyard."

"What kind of caliber does it use?"

Judging from the size of the cylinder, he would have to be a high caliber hunting round, but I'd never seen one this long.

".223 rifle ammunition."

I gave him a funny look.

"You're bullshitting me here right?"

"Nope," his eyes conveyed his seriousness, "no bullshit. Here take a look."

He then handed me the revolver and almost immediately surprised by the weight. My Forty-Fives fully loaded only weighed a meager two pounds. This on the other hand weighed a good five pounds. I clicked the ejector switch, sliding open the cylinder and sure enough there was .223 calibers round in one of the five holes.I slid the cylinder back to place which was followed by a sudden whine.

"That," Cliff explained, "was the auto sensors moving the loaded round to the barrel position. Autorevolver, right? Though I like to call it That Gun."

"That Gun, huh?" I replied as I turned the weapon over and over in my hand, noticing the LAPD logo tag on the side of the barrel. Though largely faded, there were two words left towards the top in large black letter on a yellow backdrop: THAT GUN.

"I was planning on selling it." Cliff spoke wearily, turning his head up towards the stairs leading to the snipers nest. I knew the reason all too well, "You'll need it more than me."

This was good bye. A painful good bye that didn't need to be said, but at the end only felt. I simply nodded, and also accepted the large leather holster that came with the giant blaster.

"I'm actually here for information."

"Information?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A group of men: Khans and a man with a checkered suit, would've come through here a day ago?"

"Oh," he answered in a wearied groan, "I know who you're talking about. They would've gone to see Manny."

"This Manny have a last name?"

"Vargas… and there's something you need to know."


"What's up man?"

Manny Vargas was definitely a Khan. Maybe former, or something else, I don't know. But I could see it: the scars all about him, his attitude, the way he held himself, the way his eyes burned with a fierce intensity. His disciplined manner, however, as well as the red beret on his head, was NCR. Odd combinations, considering the two were enemies since the day they departed ways from the very same vault. I brushed it aside, but I knew that if the Khans had come to see him, then I knew I was in for a hard time.

Khans were tough sons of bitches.

"I'm looking for a man in a checkered suit."

"Yeah I know him. What's he to you?"

"He shot me." I replied with a deadpan face, "I want to find out why."

"I had a feeling that weasel would have someone on his tail," he replied with grimace, "But I'm afraid I can't help you."

I had been expecting this.

"Look it's just that he was travelling with some people that I know—"

"I'm not asking you to sell out your brothers, Khan."

"How the hell did you—"

"It doesn't matter. I'm not after the Khans with him, I just want him. And if things work out, they get to walk free."

"I'm sorry, but I can't help you," he replied with an exhausted sigh, "I may not be a Khan anymore, but they're still my family. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go on duty."

"Son of a bitch…"


"So how'd it go?" Cass asked when I got back to the motel room. I slumped down on the bed with a sigh.

"They came this way alright. I even found the guy, but he won't talk."

"He a Khan?" She asked. I nodded, my face bearing a surprised look.

"Well, it makes sense," she continued, sitting down onto the bed, "I've worked with 'em before. They don't like bein' bossed around, and they only contact those they trust."

"Which in this case could only be—"

"Another Khan."

"Ms. Cassidy, you are smarter then you look." I replied with the widest grin I could manage. She laughed, and then she struck my shoulder with such force I was knocked off the bed.

"Ow!" I exclaimed as I massaged my shoulder. She just grinned right back at me.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Take however you want," I exclaimed as I stood a good five feet back, "Just don't hit me again! It was a good punch though."

"That wasn't good punch," she replied with a crazy mad smile as she closed the distance with a fist raised high in feign, "This is a good punch."

As I moved to block the soon-to-be worse punch, there was a knock at the door. We both froze and turned to the doorway.

"Why don't you get the door, asshole?" she stated in such a squeaky voice that it would've been hilarious in any other situation.

"Shut up!" I replied with my best comical voice and I opened the door. It was Boone.

"I'm in." he said in his typical gravel voice.

"Just like that?" I asked. He nodded.

"There's more," he then reached into his pocket and came back with a data stick, "I got this off of Manny's computer. I couldn't help eavesdropping."

"Wow," Cass replied with a steady beat of clapping, and a grin to come with it, "I figured we'd have to beat it out of him. And yet here you are. So how'd you do it?"

"We…have a history." he replied glumly.

"Do tell."

"He used to be my spotter."


"Manny, you made the right choice, putting us up and keeping it quiet. This weasel Benny's been twitchy since we stole that package from his boss.

Making me nervous as hell. But when I found out we'd be passing through on our way to Boulder City, I was sure we could count on you. Let the other Khans say what they want. I know where your loyalty is.

One day you'll remember where you belong, and your brothers and sisters will welcome you back like you never left. You know where to find us. McMurphy"

"So, Benny huh?" Cass remarked as I read the contents again as it sprawled over the data screen on the Pip-Boy.

"Atleast I've got a name to go with a face." I replied.

"And a location. How long ago did they come through here?"

"A day and some change. Good news especially."

"How is that good news?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Simple. They're travelling on foot, and the Khans are heading straight into NCR territory. That means they'll have to be triple stealthy—"

"Meaning they'll be slower."

"Yep. With any luck we'll be able to run them down before they even reach Boulder City. By tomorrow, they'll be in our grasp."

"And then what?" she asked, turning to face me with her staring, inquisitive eyes, "Once you've gotten your revenge, then what?"

"Simple, really." I replied with a warm heart and prayer on my lips, "We go find your caravan, and we put some hurt on someone."

"You're serious?" she asked genuinely surprised, her face somewhere between delighted and absolutely confused, "We've only known each other fer a couple of days. Why would you really care?"

"I care, because you're in the same boat that I'm in."

"But even then—"

"Cass, you don't know me very well. When we were at the outpost, I made you a promise. And I always, no matter if I'm near death or not, make good on my promises."

"You truly are an odd one, Mr. Maddox." Cass remarked with a warm smile, "And I mean that in a good way."

"I know." I shot back with a smile.

"So where to next?" Cass asked. I uncovered the pip-boy, and pressed the Data selection button. This brought up a new screen and using another side button selected MAP, which gave me a regional view. I located where we were and I traced my finger up the long winding highway.

"There: the 188 Trading Station. We can sell our loot there and rearm if need."

"Sounds like a plan, bossman," she replied with a smile. Suddenly, our attention shifted to the sound of an apartment door opening ahead of us. A moment later, Boone departed with a duffle bag in one hand and in the other a sniper weapon. As I suspected a heavily modified Model 70 Winchester chambered with .308 cartridges. A "Rifleman's Rifle" had been a popular nickname for it.

His entire look screamed pare-military. Combat boots, khaki-camo trousers and brown hunting jacket that covered over a very obvious web belt system. Well… also add in the fact the red beret that I don't think he'll ever take off. He took one last look at his room and then locked it up.

"Hey, you okay?" Cass asked him as he came over. He shook his head as he tossed his gear in the back and climbed in.

"No," he said simply, "will be when we're miles out."

"For once I can agree with that sentiment."

Already I could see people staring at us from behind windows and alleyways. We'd made our presence know and they'd become weary of it. Boone was right. It was time to get out of Dodge. I made one last check of our apartment and finally locked the room up. I'd leave the keys in the lobby.

As I started her up, I could see Cass loading her Lever-action. She gave me a funny look and watched the houses around.

"You too, huh?"

"Yeah. Think Cliff was right?"

"It's starting to look that way. They know something is up."

"'nough gawking then. Let's get the hell outta here."

"Right. ED-E! Hop in!"

"So where we heading?" Boone called from the back.

"First the 188 Trading Post up road!"

"And then?"

"Boulder city."


It wasn't until we were well outside of town that I dared a look back towards the fading town. My mind thought over the events of the last couple of days and I had to ask myself what was next?

" Listen, I've been everywhere in this here land! "

Yeah, that about sums it up. The sounds of Cash's shaky and world-weary exploits ran in tune with the wheels on the tarmac. I could even here Cass humming in tune to the song. Behind me, Boone was seated in the very back with his back to the tire and his rifle across his lap. And in the passenger seat was ED-E drumming out a new song every couple of minutes.

It helped pass the waning hours as we made our way to the trading post. Still though, I had to ask myself again that obvious question. What was next? I'd been shot, brought back to life through a questionable involvement of three different parties, rescued a town, avenged another, picked up a robot, a slightly wacky redhead cowgirl, a brooding sniper, someone how stumble upon a garage with a functioning vehicle and possibly had two angels watching over my shoulder. I had to shake my head at the thought.

It's been a long month.

" I've been everywhere, man. I've been everywhere, man. Crossed the desert's bare, man. I've breathed the mountain air, man. Of travel I've had my share, man. I've been everywhere! "


Cass


This bot was on a damn roll! Playin' song after song and hitting the mark with each one. Had ta admit, don't mind they idea of an armored radio with a deathray fer company. I just hummed along with the tune as the minutes, and then hours, passed on. Still, couldn't take my mind off 'bout our new passenger.

He was still hangin' round the very back; eyes watching the roads and hills with that rifle of his close in hand. Looking at him made feel cold. No, not cold. Somethin' like that though. Gideon told me what had gone down with this guy last night and did feel sorry for him.

Know that particular pain 'nough ta know what it can do a man. Yet, in some ways I think he went further down the rabbit hole than I could possibly try. He looked like a man with a deathwish. I will not understate it. He's got the looks of wantin' ta charge head long into a Legion camp and go down kicking and screamin'.

Now I've been to some dark places, and might've been stuck there had Gideon not come by and pulled me out. But in his case, I think he might need more than a beatdown and some wise old words. I looked over at Gideon, and he looked back. What was it he said to me back at Novac? You too, huh?

Either way, I'm gonna have to be on my toes with this. He might just go ballistic if we're not careful.


Boone


" I've been to: Boston, Charleston, Dayton, Louisiana, Washington, Houston, Kingston, Texarkana, Monterey, Faraday, Santa Fe, Tallapoosa, Glen Rock, Black Rock, Little Rock, Oskaloosa, Tennessee to Tennesse, Chicopee, Spirit Lake, Grand Lake, Devils Lake, Crater Lake, for Pete's sake! "

They don't trust me. Could see it in their eyes, but I've been expecting it. I'm like a thorn in a rose, or something like that. Don't fit in well with others. So why did Gideon ask me to come along?

Lying to myself, I know why. He's like me. Or he was me, I don't know which… yet. But looking at him now, the way he holds himself up confidently, no fear… I was right. The man's a soldier.

Was a soldier? That much I can tell. I'd also seen his look before, the kind that've been to Hell and somehow crawled out. Saw the look at Hoover. But this… his… is worse.

Much worse. Add to that he doesn't remember anything. If what he's been through is half as bad as I think… he might snap when it comes back. I have to be ready for that. My eyes shifted to the passenger.

Heartaches by the Number came to mind. Had that song playing on a loop while back on the Strip. Must've heard it a thousand times. Either way, describes her well. She's like most caravaners I've met.

Add to the fact she's lost a lot. Not just recently. Scars are old and new, but each runs deep. Can see it in her eyes. Tough luck's a bitch.

Yet out of the two, Gideon is the more trusting. Makes sense. Her on the other hand… got the look of someone who makes friends with her fist. Unpredictable, but loyal. Not planning on staying long, but something to keep in mind.

Would take a lot to warm up to her. Get her to trust me. Not that they should. I know Vegas is inevitable on this trip's end. Help them if I can, but when its over I'm gone.

Now the robot. Enclave. Seen enough relics and stories back in Redding to know the look. But it's old and battered looking. Definitely gone through a lot.

Something else too. It acts like a puppy around Gideon. He's definitely not Enclave, too young to be. A new master? Maybe its memories were removed or forgotten.

Either way, if something happens I won't hesitate. Felt something, something familiar. I spun and looked over the hills for something moving. Nothing. I kept looking till we passed under a bridge.

Finally I relaxed. But here was something unfriendly about that feeling. Felt cold. Like… Cottonwood. Like… Carla.

Forget about it. Bury it. Focus on the here and now. Focus on the rover. Focus on them.

Slowing down. The trading post.


Veronica


It was getting colder. We were fast approaching the end of October, and I actually found it comforting. I actually found myself smiling a little, just a little, when I saw my breath materialize into damp fog. I would finally have a use for this damn robe.

"Where you heading, V?"

"Out!" I called back, "I wanna enjoy this cold while I can!"

"You enjoy this!?" he called back. I turned, finding him shivering despite the fact he was wearing a heavy coat. It wasn't that cold.

"This robe is like wearing sweatpants, ye wuss."

"Hey, I'm not a wuss!" he shouted back, his face on verge of exploding, "I just don't like the cold!"

"Ah, you're just useless!" I called back, my lips tightened into a mocking smile.

I made my way up the stairs and onto the intersection of Highways 93 and 95. I then found myself staring, once again, at the neon lights of Vegas. It was like an early dawn every time the veil of night hit the land. I had only been to Vegas once, and despite losing most of my money; I wouldn't mind heading back. Then for some odd reason I found myself turning back to face the oncoming road, burying my face deeper into the hood.

I don't why I did; maybe it was some change in the wind that brought my attention. I don't know. But ultimately, I'm glad I did.

"Go ahead and get the stuff unpacked, Cass. Boone, head on in and see if you can find us a gun merchant."

"And where you off to?"

"Parking space. C'mon, ED-E, I could use your help."

I just stared at the newcomers for a good long while. The kid's words ranged out its tune once more:

"Anger. Rage. All but red, oh so crimson red. Mist in the air, on his hands, in his soul. A hole that just widens, with two holes, all sown but just keep on tearing. Bloodrage!"

"It's okay; you're going to be fine. No one is going to hurt you. Shhh, you're going to be okay."

"Blood everywhere, V! Blood everywhere!"

"Who were you talking about, kid? Who?"

"Maddox."

I just couldn't be sure. Either way, they entirely fascinated me. I wasn't the only one who had noticed Rover: a Model '63 to be exact. I remembered seeing one in a catalogue and another in a military driver's manual. Definitely the latter kind; I could see faded whited on the doors and the entire thing was painted with a sort of Olive drap green.

Then I found myself observing the actual owners. One was without a doubt a cowgirl. Rough and tumbled with flowing red hair hid underneath an even rougher raw hide hat. She was trying to bear the load of a very large bag, of which I had no doubt it was full of a plethora of weaponry. Next to her was… well there is no other way of saying it: Mr. Shades with a cherry on top. All serious in his manner and easily ex-military… a sniper at that.

"Are you sure you got that?" Mr. Shades asked.

"What do I look like? A housewife?" the Cowgirl scowled back.

I couldn't help but giggle at the two of them. But then my eyes drifted again over to the other two in this little 'party'. I… I had never seen a robot like that before. I knew though it was some kind of Eyebot that the Enclave had built some forty years ago. He was though… funny… like an attention-demanding dog.

"Whoa, easy with the Valkyries, Kilgore!"

I then turned my eyes to the speaker. He was… rather unusual. I could describe most people with a word, but him? Not so much. He was in his early thirties, well built but lean.

Easily just shy of two hundred pounds and no doubt a powerful man. Well armed too: I could see the .45 pistol underneath the heavy leather jacket, and it probably had a twin. I also spotted the Combat Knife at the right boot. The heaviest of his hardware, pardon me for saying so, was the Ruger Ranch Rifle Classic. This one caught my eye: it had a rare MagLite Precision Night Scope, with probably a 3.5 or 4.10x magnification, mounted on its carry handle.

I wound up finding his face, and my is it broody. Okay maybe not broody. But some kind of cross between gnarly and scruffy-looking. Yeah that's about right.

Scruffy-looking with a right mixture of danger and broody. I like that word.

"This'll do."

He then parked, and no sooner than he dismounted than did the robot zoom to his side.

"C'mon, ED-E. Let's go see what this place has to offer."

"Beepdit-beep?"

"No, you may not shoot the customers. If that is what you said."

I had to stifle a laugh as the floating disco ball groaned in disappointment. Then quickly I darted back behind the shed as he moved to overpass. Another 'lucky guess', his eyes were running over where I was standing three seconds ago…


Gideon


I couldn't shake the feeling I was being watched. Yet when I had turned to look, there was nobody there. The Sensorium was going to be practically useless as there was still a lot of people moving about from tent house to shack or something else; looking for buyers.

"Did you see anything, ED-E?"

He shook his head. Damn. Well nothing much to do about it now. I should probably get back to the others—

"Local, local, local. The here and now…"

It had come as a small murmur. Barely audible, and it sounded rather cold and alien. Almost like the voice of Vulpes… I drew the Colt and I trailed its source:

"Little of interest: things to buy, false hopes and regrets watered down into tiny dirty glasses…"

I then looked down to the road below me and I saw him.

"Oh, hello!"

He looked up at me and he smiled a smile that could've only come from a kid. He was atleast ten; thin and all with a fairly rounded face.

"I'm sorry, but I just heard over there and I—"

"I don't mind, friend. I've actually been expecting you!"

That caught me off guard.

"You've… been expecting me?"

"Why sure! C'mon down!"

I looked to ED-E, and he just shrugged. Quickly, I made my way down the intersection past the many still walking about and onto the main road heading south. I found him under the bridge; surrounded by clutters of junk. Then something caught my eye: seven red and six white with a blue field, twelve stars in a circle and one in the middle. The…'old' America: the United States. The boys' voice interrupted my thoughts and stares:

"Hey there mister!"

"Hey yourself, little one."

I sat amid the junk, cross-legged: ironically the same as the kid in front of me.

"Finally good to meet you."

"About that… actually what's your name?"

He smiled and shook his head:

"Don't have a name. Never needed one."

"Well hello, Mr. No Name," I laughed warmly with a broad smile, "Always wanted to meet a No Name. Your parents must've given the joke but forgot the point of the punchline!"

"I actually don't have any parents."

"Oh," I replied apologetically, then my natural concern took over, "Wait, who takes care of you then?"

"I take care of myself, mainly."

"You're all alone?"

"No, not really. Everybody here's pretty nice. Sam Kerr's always got a meal for me, and everybody's got a job with pay if I need to."

"Wow. Talk about a village to raise a kid."

"I like you." he replied with that innocent smile that little children always bear, "I like your humor."

"Heh. I like how you roll with things kid. Now you were expecting me?"

"I saw you. In the Gecko Cave."

One could imagine my surprise:

"Wait, what!?"

"I figured you'd be coming up here."

"Go back a second, how did you 'see' me in the cave?"

I knew I had been alone in that cave. Alone… with only the dead at my feet. Who… what, was this kid?

"I see things when I don't have this on."

He reached behind his back and pulled out a metal band, red and black in appearance.

"You see things? Like… a vision?"

He nodded and I just simply shrugged. One could call me crazy, but living in a world where robots had personalities and angels apparently had an interest in people; I could be inclined to believe him. He could be only one thing: a psychic.

"So… what can you see?"

"Oh I see a bit of now, a bit of later. Sometimes it's with a person, sometimes with a place, sometimes with everywhere."

So you, here or everywhere. Okay, that interesting.

"What about here?"

"That was actually one I was doing, but I forgot to finish it."

"Do you remember the rest of it?"

He cleared his throat, closed his eyes and seemed to go into a sort meditative state, his eyelids cringing with focused concentration. Then he finally spoke and the cold, alien voice was back:

"With regret comes a girl… smiling, but sad. Brown robes, but only half here. Name of Veronica, wraps her heart up like a pack. In that heart, a key some say. Forecast: cloudy, with a chance of Friendship."

I could feel someone's eyes bore into the back of my skull. I whipped around, my eyes trailing the bridge but once more no dice. I turned back to the kid, who was looking a little bit paler.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just got get a breather for a second."

That second turned into a minute, but he got his color back and looked okay. Then something in his eyes changed; they went from brown to gray in a split second. Then the voice returned:

"Your face does the thinking… two to the skull, only one gets up. All odds against you… numbers to the two-to-one. Playing a hand been dealt, mind loosed… Yet you never rest, you reshuffle and stack, to a gamble that might pay off…But only the skies know how. Rapidly changing conditions."

"That's enough, kid." I replied, moving my hand to grab the headband, "Let's get this on your head."

Then he shoved me down with a strength that could not have belonged to him. He stood; the face almost seeming to age in a heartbeat. My breath was caught in my lungs and my heart felt as though it was going to explode.

"Bull and Bear over the Dam, at each other's throats... but a light from Vegas? Ball spinning on the wheel, more than two at the table. All lose in different ways. A dam and towns of corpses scattered across the sand. But the blood is unclear… Even the dealer of events doesn't know. A rain of blood will flood the desert and not purify it."

"Kid!" A scream emitted from over my shoulder. Before I could turn, a rush of brown rolled past me and I was almost bowled over. ED-E seemed to beep in as much surprise as I could imagine.

"Huh? What's going on?"

"It's okay. I've got you."

I turned to see the kid; the band on his head and his face rapidly changing from chalk white to green, and then back to his regular color. My eyes then, slowly, followed the arm that embraced the kid in a tightened hug. The arm, and much of the body, was wrapped in well faded brown burlap.

"Who are you?"

"I suppose you're Maddox."

The voice was defiantly a woman's and she was wearing burlap? Could this day get any weirder? No take it back it will.