Chapter 3: The Broke and The Dead
In Freeside, there is a run down casino where those not well off enough to get into the Strip can gamble their fortunes away. The Atomic Wrangler. For a place that is seen as being a last option, it still has many amenities for its patrons to make use of. There are table games, slot machines, twice a week there is a show of some sort in the main lobby, and there are prostitutes, so all in all not a bad place. Much better than some of the other places in the wasteland, at least in Tyler's humble opinion anyway. Far as he is concerned, as long as a place can supply him with good chems, a solid drink, and a mattress to sleep on, it gets five stars.
Also, he has been here for three days and not one person as told him to scram. Normally most places he goes to don't want him there on account of his looking like a corpse. Even more places have straight up rules about it, no ghouls, at all. So far, the further west he has come, the better life has been. There are still bigots of course, but people around here are too damn focused on their own misery to even notice if the person drinking next to them is a ghoul or not. Not to mention that being a ghoul actually brings a level of respect. Folks think all ghouls are ancient, ageless relics, but Tyler has only been a ghoul for a few years, and finds that being shown a rare sign of respect is actually sorta nice.
Beside him his business partner lets out a low gurgle and shifts his position on the bar. The man has been passed out for most of their stay here in the Wrangler. Tyler is slightly amused, but also concerned on some level. Years ago his partner would never have touched a single drop of alcohol, now you can hardly keep the man away from the stuff. Tyler reaches over and pats his partner on the shoulder, "Hey, dickhead, you still alive?" The only response he gets are a few mumbled words he can barely make out, at least the guy can still make noise, that is a good sign hopefully.
Tyler tuns his attention from his partner back to the ghoulette sitting a few tables away. She is dressed much like a cowboy, long duster and boots, wide brim rawhide hat, and a revolver at her hip. Tyler is pretty sure she is one of the Wrangler's working girls, but he isn't yet sure enough to pursue her attentions for a few hours. He knows that some of the Wrangler's more regular customers have some odd desires, as demonstrated by the protectron sex bot, and he has to wonder just who wants both a ghoul and a cowgirl? Also, where the hell did the Wrangler's owners managed to find that sort of person? Tyler makes up his mind that he is willing to risk being slapped and is going to go talk to the cowgirl, when little annoyance shows back up.
"Tyler," Her voice is snappy, like she is cracking a whip, "Where is my jet?" Tyler lets out a groan and turns on his stool to face Kc. Exactly two months, four weeks, and five days ago he and Luther picked her up in the Mojave. They found her wandering around aimlessly. She was incoherent and her feet were torn and bloodied from walking without shoes. Luther patched her up and informed Tyler that the buns on her arms and legs came from a live grenade going off. When she came too she panicked and attacked them. Tyler has been in many scraps in his life, but this tiny little girl put up more struggle than he has ever seen. When they finally calmed her down, and cleaned their wounds, she explained who she was.
Born and raised as a bastard child of some clan from the area, she and some of her people were out foraging for food when they were set upon by raiders. Both Luther and Tyler were confused until she explained that this happened to her years ago and that she had been on her own ever since. She claims to have no desire to return to her clan and only wants to live long enough to get her next fix. Tyler assumed they would leave her to her own devices, as did Luther, but the bitch just stuck around. She attached herself to them and has been following them around ever since. So much for her being a loner.
So far, she and Tyler have had only the one physical fight, but he knows that another is coming soon. They have been at each others throats from day one. Stealing chems, arguing about where to go, just being mad for no reason. Honestly, Tyler can barely stand the girl, and Luther is too drunk to even care. "I didn't take your damn jet, Kc, why would I bother with that stuff? You know it is all but useless for ghouls. Now, if you ever get your greasy little hands on some ultrajet, then we may have something to talk about."
Kc huffs and her nose goes up into the air, "I wouldn't share chems with you if you were the last person in the wasteland. I wouldn't even give them to you if my life depended on it! And I sure as hell would not tell you if I got some ultrajet! That shit would be mine and for no one else, now where is my fucking psycho!"
Tyler lifts a brow, well, he would if he still had eyebrows, but the expression is still the same. "Psycho? I thought you were looking for jet?" He leans towards her and squints. Her eyes are bloodshot and puffy, signs of a slight withdraw, or perhaps a switch to something new. "Are you tripping, or are you on a low? I can't tell with you smoothskins anymore."
She puffs up her cheeks and her arms clamp against her side, making her look like a little child throwing a fit, which is actually exactly what she is. "It does not matter!" Her voice is raised and several other people in the casino turn towards the commotion. "I need my chems and I cannot find them! You are always taking them for yourself! Now where are they!"
Tyler starts to shout back, but is interrupted by Luther somehow lurching to his feet towards Kc. His partner drapes an arm around Kc's shoulder and leans against her, the little girl can barely hold up his weight. "Hey," he slurs, "what is with all the fussin? I was tryin to sleerp. Sleep. Drink can't a man in peace?" Luther's face contorts and he hurls up the contents of his stomach, all over Kc's front.
Tyler throws back his head and howls with laughter as Kc launches into an all out verbal assault on Luther, pushing him to the ground and letting him fall in a heap. He orders a fresh round and offers a drink to Kc. The girl sneers at him and knocks the glass out of his hand. "I don't want any of that poison. Look what it does to him!"
"Hey!" Tyler turns to look at the person addressing him with some annoyance. "I am getting sick and tired of the three of you causing so much trouble in my place!" The man is familiar, but, ah shit. This is James Garret, the owner of the casino. "I want you and your two associates here gone, now."
Tyler holds up his hands in a pacifying gesture and nods, "All right, all right. I get it, we cause trouble. We also have caps." Tyler pats his pockets and his heart sinks. "Um, actually, no we don't."
Garret's face twists. "You don't have any caps? You have a running tab that you have put everything on. We don't normally do tabs, but you assured us that you would be able to pay. I want my caps! And I want them now!" Garret reveals a small silenced pistol from the front of his suit and aims it at Tyler's chest.
Again, Tyler holds up his hands in a pacifying way, "Calm down, no need for this to get crazy." Faster than the eye can follow, he reaches out and slaps the gun out of Garret's hand. He steps forward and headbuts the man, snapping his nose and sending blood spraying down his face. Garret grabs his face, howling with pain, and falls onto his back. Tyler steps over him and grabs Luther from the floor. "Get our shit." He orders Kc. She starts to protest, but at a look from Tyler she shuts up and runs to get their things.
One of the bouncers has arrived and is standing in their way, effectively blocking the only exit. "Look," Tyler growls through clenched teeth, "I am an angry ghoul with nothing left to loose. No caps, no chems, and one hell of a withdraw. I can't even relax with a nice girl for an hour. I disarmed you boss and there is a sawed off hanging at my hip. The only weapon you are carrying is that assault rifle, which you haven't primed, and likely isn't loaded. Do you really want to do this? I sure as hell wouldn't mind a fight!"
The bouncer seems to be weighing his options. His gaze goes to Garret who is still rolling around on the floor and ruining the carpet with all the blood coming out of his nose. Kc returns with their stuff and her sub-machine gun in her hand. The bouncer reaches a conclusion and goes for his rifle. Tyler grabs his sawed off from his waist and pulls both triggers, shredding the bouncer's chest. Tyler does a quick look around to make sure no one else feels like going for their weapons. He steps over the corpse of the bouncer and out the casino door into Freeside.
He picks an alley at random and moves down it until he finds a building with an open door. He steps inside the ruin and immediately heads towards the stairs. Again he picks at random and steps through another door into a small room. There is a large hole in the roof that looks up into the night sky and the room itself is barely furnished with some straw piled into a corner, a rusty bathtub, and a busted sink with a shattered mirror above it. "This seems nice." He drops Luther unceremoniously on the floor and walks over the the pile of straw. He unstraps his metal chest piece and sets it against the wall. he eases himself down onto the straw and smiles. "This is nice."
Kc stands in the doorway of the room and looks around with a sour face. "This is nice? It is like a dump compared to our room in the Wrangler."
Tyler cracks open and eye. "Yes, but it is better than sleeping on a pile of rocks out in the Mojave. It is also better than lying in a shallow grave with a dirt blanket. And it is even better than the bottom of a cell or the inside of a deathclaw. So, take your victories when you can."
He lies back down and closes his eyes. He can hear Kc drop all their stuff on the floor and sit down in a corner. For a few blissful moments she is silent, but then, "What did you do with Luther? He isn't here." Without opening his eyes Tyler waves his hand towards the rusty tub. He hears Kc get up and go to investigate the pre-war luxury item. "Why is he in the tub?"
Tyler grumbles, "Because he feels safe in them for some reason. If there is the option between sleeping in a tub or sleeping anyplace else, he will sleep in the tub. I thought he kicked the habit back in the Capital, but it seems to have come back to him along with his drinking." On cue Luther sits up and crawls out of the tub and towards the pile of their things Kc left on the floor. He grabs his bag and drags it back to the tub with him. There is a slight pause, but then the sound of a bottle cork being popped open followed by the sound of a man chugging as much whiskey as possible. "Sweet dreams asshole." Tyler murmurs before rolling over and going dead to the world.
Veronica stops just short of walking into Traveler's back. She starts to protests, but he shushes her and indicates for her to get low. Instantly she is on high alert. She follows as Traveler moves into the bushes and watches as he removes the long rifle from his shoulders. She looks out from the shrubs they are concealed in and squints at the horizon. Moving her eyes back and forth, she sweeps the area ahead of them, but cannot see anything. She looks up at Traveler again, but he is still looking through his scope, unmoved from when she first looked away. "Traveler?" she asks in a low voice.
"Shush," he responds in a hushed tone, "they are moving in this direction. They smell like the color red. Nasty little candies they are. Can never tell when they may just pop up out of no place." Veronica listens to him, looks out at the area head of them again, and then comes to a conclusion. Traveler is insane. Making her eat that gecko was one thing, sometimes saying strange things is another, but seeing things that are not there is totally wrong. Veronica sighs and starts to stand. Without looking away from his weapon Traveler reaches up and pulls her back down, "keep your head down, you want to be a lighthouse or something?"
Veronica is about to demand to know exactly why they are crouched in some bushes that are starting to make her itch in places she shouldn't itch when there is a gunshot off in the distance. She tenses and again looks at the area ahead of them, this time searching a little harder. The silence stretches on however, and she starts to relax. Suddenly Traveler takes off running. "What the?" She jumps up and sprints to catch up with him.
Traveler is running hard, and outpacing her something fierce. How someone carrying enough weapons to open an arms dealership and wearing a heavy jacket can stand to run that fast in such heat when all she is wearing is simple brown robes and she is dying is beyond her. She sees him come to a stop ahead of her and go to his knee. In a blur he raises his rifle, looks through the scope, and pulls the trigger. The sound jars her to a stop and she stands there, her chest heaving and her lungs burning, looking for where his target is.
She walks up to him and, through the heavy panting, asks, "what the hell is all this about?" Traveler does not answer with words, instead he just points to something beside him in the dirt. Veronica looks over his shoulder and gasps. Lying there is a dead NCR veteran ranger. She can tell from his iconic armor and mask. "What killed him?"
"The red candies." Traveler responds as he stands up and shoulders his rifle, never taking his eyes away from something only he can see in the distance.
"What red candies?" Traveler points to a bag near the dead ranger and Veronica goes over to investigate it. it is a simple leather bag tied closed with red twine. She opens it and stares at the contents with unbelieving eyes. Inside are several small red pills. She takes one out and rolls it in her hand. "What are these?" Looking up she realizes that Traveler has set off in the direction he was looking. Taking the bag of pills with her, she hurries to catch up. "How did you know he was carrying these?"
"The crows told me." he responds without looking away from whatever has his attention.
"What crows?" He wordlessly points up at the sky to answer her question. Looking up, and shading her eyes from the sun, Veronica spots several black shapes circling in the sky above. "How could they know about the pills?"
"They saw him take one when he was shot. He didn't want to speak to the man who did the shooting. The crows saw and told me. Can't you hear them?" Veronica chooses not to respond. Somehow, Traveler knew that a dead ranger who they couldn't even see from where they were hiding before had red pills on him, and he claims that the crows told him about it. The lines between reality and crazy are suddenly starting to blur and she wonders if the birds actually talked to him, could they be mutant birds? Why didn't she hear the birds talking? And where are they going? Oh, this is where.
Before them is a dead man. From the looks of him he is a farmer. Yet lying beside him is a high powered anti-material rifle the likes of witch a simple farmer never would be able to afford. "This man is from the body of red people. He was sent out to scout the area without being seen. he saw the ranger and thought he would be able to get some information out of him. The ranger took the pills. The scout from the red people was disappointed, but now he is dead."
"Who are the body of red people?"
Traveler's face adopts a conflicted expression. "An army nation of slaves and conquered tribes. They are brutal in their ways, but they bring order and discipline to places that before lacked both of those things are were in a state of chaos. Many fear them, the bear fears them, but for now they are trapped on the other side of the Colorado."
Veronica realizes that the red people must be the Legion. That would mean that the man lying in the dirt before them is a Legionary scout. She may not be a fan of the NCR, but all she has seen and heard about the Legion makes them seem much worse. Do they really bring order to uncivilized places? Only small areas and skirmishes are the extent of her experience in the wasteland. "I don't think the ends can justify the means when the means are full scale invasion and forcing the people to adopt your customs or die."
Traveler looks over his shoulder at her, "You are entitled to your opinion, and I to mine. The road led us here, and the road wanted me to kill this man. Do not think that means I consider myself an enemy of the Legion. I have fought them before, and I have helped them. You cannot judge waters radiation level just from looking at it." He turns and starts back to the road they were on earlier.
Veronica looks down at the dead Legionary. Never would she have guessed that she would end up with a mentally ill philosopher. With a shrug of her shoulders, she rushes to catch back up with him. She looks at him again, taking in all the details of his equipment. He still looks to have been on the road for a long time, but her focus is now on the feathers. Two sets, on on the gecko skin armband on his left bicep, and the others tied to the hilt of the sword on his back. Looking up at the sky, she wonders at the connection he seems to have with the wasteland, and wonders what manner of event happened to him to give him that connection.