Apologies for the late update. :P As always, enjoy and please, review!
Mold.
If anyone had asked Trinity to describe Novac, she would have used only that word. She was used to the dilapidated ruins of the Mojave by now, but the layer of grime on this town was more than prohibitive. Unconsciously, she began rubbing at her eyes. She was dog-tired.
Already half asleep, Trinity could just barely make out the sign above the motel door as she entered.
'Dino Dee-lite' Yeah. Real cute.
"How much for a room?" Trinity asked in a low drawl. She knew she probably sounded drunk to the old woman smiling at her from behind the counter. Jeannie May Crawford, she had been told.
"Hello! Welcome to the Dino-"
"HEY!" Trinity held up her hand for the woman to stop. She didn't know if the old bat hadn't heard her or was just that determined to spew out cheerful bullshit. "Listen up. I'm really tired, and I don't want to have 'friendly banter' right now." Trinity tossed a small bundle of caps onto the counter. "Give me the key to the best room in this dump, swiftly."
Jeannie May frowned and opened her mouth as if to protest. Her eyes never leaving Crawford's, Trinity reached into her vest and removed her guns safety as audibly as she could. "Swiftly."
. . .
Trinity slept like a rock. She'd always been a heavy sleeper, but since she'd recovered from the coma Benny had put her in, it was getting worse. Sleeping with her gun on her chest barely comforted her anymore. There was no real guarantee she would awaken quickly enough to use it.
As soon as she decided to open her eyes and take in the light of the day, the dull pounding in her head quickly escalated into a full migraine. Barely able to move, Trinity reached into her pocket for one of her buffout pills. She struggled to steady her breathing as her trembling fingers closed around the pill. Slowly, she reached up to place the pill on her tongue. She knew she should be taking them with water. She knew she needed to stop taking them altogether, but they were the only reason she'd been able to get out of bed in the mornings. Without the boost they gave her, she would be useless for the rest of the day.
Doc Mitchell had pulled the shrapnel from her brain, but even Trinity was aware the old man's skills were severely limited. She needed to see another doctor, and soon; one capable of correcting the damage on a deeper level. If not, she wasn't sure if she'd even live long enough to get the revenge she was after.
When she'd finally stumbled out of the sunken old bed, Trinity longed for a shower, but the erratic ticking of her Geiger counter next to the faucet warned her against it. This hellhole didn't even have clean water. Reaching into her bag for a purified bottle, Trinity stormed out into the town. She'd make this visit as quick as possible.
All things considered, she'd expected more resistance when she asked to speak with the town's sniper. The man was on duty for god sakes. Still, the gift shop owner Cliff Broscoe was more than willing to let her go upstairs and have a conversation. This town sure was comfortable. Silently, she pushed open the tattered door and saw that his back was to her, his hair the only part of him that moved. The last thing she wanted was to seriously startle a sniper.
"Hey," she whispered. She tried to keep it light and non-threatening. He turned slowly to face her, lowering his weapon as he realized she was unarmed.
"Hey…" he replied, looking her up and down. He was sure he'd never seen her around Novac, or anywhere else for that matter. It would be hard to forget that hair. Or that body.. "Uh.. you know, you're not really supposed to be up here."
Trinity smiled and leaned against the door. "Yet I stand before you." The smirk forming on his face made her certain that he wasn't planning on asking her to leave. "You have a name?"
"Yeah, um.. Manny. Manny Vargas," he told her, holding out his hand for her to shake. Briefly examining his hand, she noticed that they were exceptionally clean, with few rough spots. Sniping was likely the closest he got to combat or actual work on a daily basis. He probably paid others to repair his weapons, mend his clothes, and cook his food. Not terribly impressive. Still, she completed the handshake.
"Trinity. So.. you're Novac's sniper huh?"
Proudly, Vargas rested his gun on his shoulder. "Yeah. You see a rifle barrel sticking out of the dinosaur's mouth, you got a fifty-fifty shot it's me. Otherwise, its Boone."
"Boone?"
"Another guy, used to be first recon like me. We switch shifts around 9." For some reason, he seemed less than thrilled to be talking about the other sniper.
"First recon, hm? NCR then? " she asked, attempting to mask her disdain. NCR never did sit well with her. Bunch of control freaks who fancied themselves as saviors, above the 'Legion scum'. Truth was that they were just as bad. Possibly worse. They were a 'government'. Every pre-war book Trinity had read about governments made them seem like a bad idea.
"You bet," Vargas replied with gusto. Apparently he'd intended for this bit of information to impress her.
Trinity was ready to switch gears now. She wanted to hear more about the night sniper. Making accurate shots at night would be considerably more difficult than during the day. This guy Boone had to have been given the night shift for a reason. "So Boone's a friend of yours?"
Vargas narrowed his eyes and looked away. "Not exactly." Trinity nodded in understanding.
"Why are you on bad terms with him?"
With a sigh, he tapped the stock of his gun on his foot. A nervous habit."Me and his wife.. let's just say we didn't see eye to eye on some things. Most things, actually. One day she went missing, and he hasn't said a word to me since."
. . .
Cliff looked on as Trinity sat on the stairs to the sniper's nest, polishing her gun. Occasionally she'd catch his gaze and click off the safety, giving him a start. His reactions were a more than amusing way to pass the time while she waited for the night sniper to show. It had been reasonably difficult to get away from Vargas. He was under the distinct impression that her questions indicated some kind of romantic interest in him. Trinity had almost snorted with laughter when he'd offered to buy her a drink after his shift. Yeah right.
"Excuse me," she heard a man say. She could practically hear the testosterone in his voice. "You're in the way."
"Sorry," she quickly replied as she stood. He was much older than her; hardened, but.. handsome. Noting the scoped rifle on his back, Trinity smiled. This was her guy. "So, I know this might sound kind of strange, but.. I've been waiting for you."
Boone raised an eyebrow. Waiting for him? The last person to say that to him had put a submachine gun to his temple. "What do you want?" he grunted at her. Trinity faltered a bit. Despite the sunglasses he wore, she could tell he was already annoyed.
"Your name would be a start," she said, extending her hand for him to shake. "I'm Trinity."
For a long moment he stared at her. She stood there expectantly, batting her lashes at him. If he hadn't known better, he would swear she was flirting with him, but there was next to no chance in hell that was the case. "Craig Boone. Friends call me Boone," he said in a monotone, making the handshake as short as possible. This woman was young, barely out of her teens, and as much as he hated to admit it, attractive. He was sure she had to want something substantial from him to give him so much as a second glance.
Trinity tilted her head inquisitively."Who calls you Craig?"
"Not you," Boone replied bluntly.
Fighting back a scowl, Trinity looked away from him. "Right… I'm in the market for a partner. A bodyguard if you want to call it that. I mean really, what are they even paying you here?"
"Enough," Boone told her. Trinity scoffed.
"Yeah? Somehow I doubt it. You could do so much better than this rat trap. Whatever they're paying you, I can double it if you come with me."
Boone had heard just about enough from her. His shift had already started, and he would be held responsible for anything or anyone that happened to wander into the town while he held a conversation with this woman. Ignoring her words, he started up the stairs. "Not interested."
"LOOK, Boone. I can tell that none of the people here are your friends. Not even Vargas, despite how much he seems to know about you, and your wife.." she trailed off. The look on his face silenced her immediately.
"You don't know anything about my wife, and neither did he. And now.. You're done talking to me."
Exasperated, Trinity started to follow him. "All I'm asking is-"
Boone turned sharply and raised a hand to cut her off. "You're DONE."
xxx
The day had been little more than disappointing. For awhile it had seemed as if she'd only need to make one stop on her way to the Strip. So far all she'd found was a useless sniper and an emotionally damaged one. Beautiful.
It was the comment about his wife that ruined her pitch, she knew. Obviously it was a sensitive subject for him. She couldn't see why. Everyone else in town she'd spoken to had essentially identified her as a stuck up, albeit beautiful.. bitch. It was probably just as well he'd refused her offer. If his wife ever returned, at least he would be there for it.
Making her way back to the motel's lobby, Trinity scratched at an insistent itch on her scalp. She was more than anxious for a good, hot bath. Almost three days since the robbery and no leads.. NCR had likely moved on. It was time for her to move on as well.
Barely looking at the old woman behind the desk, Trinity began to poke at the small t-rex figurines on display. "What's the fastest way out of this dump?" she asked dismissively.
Jeannie May sneered at the young woman's rudeness. It was enough that she had practically demanded a room at gunpoint, but this was a direct shot at her and her property. "I own most of this 'dump'. It may not be the Strip, but it suits us just fine. You can jump out of a window, for all I care."
A bright smile spreading across her face, Trinity removed her gun from its holster and struck the old woman in the back of her head with all the strength she had. "Wrong answer."
Trinity strolled around the side of the desk toward Crawford's unconscious form. Well, at least the old bat was still breathing. Considering the fact that anyone could walk in at any moment, Trinity made quick work of patting down the woman for valuables. Only five caps and a key on her. No doubt the key was to the safe she'd had her eye on.
'No reason I shouldn't loot this place,' Trinity thought as she brushed the dust from the safe's handle. There was nothing too unusual inside. A few hundred caps, some pre-war money, and a carefully folded slip of paper. The paper she would have left alone were it not for the prominent red Legion seal that bled through one of its corners. Her curiosity getting the better of her, Trinity unfolded the parchment and began to read; the contents were less than heartwarming.
'I'll be damned…'
. . .
There was a cool chill in the air when Trinity returned to the sniper's nest. She couldn't be sure whether it was real or just in her mind. This was the Mojave after all. Boone stood silently at the edge of the dinosaur's mouth. One foot perched on a tooth, he leaned forward, looking down his scope into the darkness of the Mojave; his barrel moving almost independently of him as he swept it East and West in a slow, oval pattern. There was so much focus evident in his movements, she was certain he hadn't seen or heard her yet. Regardless of how foreboding the moment felt to her, she was sure this needed to be done.
"Boone.."
He didn't turn around. Her voice was still fresh in his mind from when they'd first spoken. "Hmph. It's you."
"I have a name, you know," she spat. Still, he refused to part his eye from his scope.
"I'm working. We have nothing to talk about."
"Fair enough. Let's get right down to it then. I have a gift for you."
A loud thud behind him captured Boone's attention. He turned slowly to discover the source of the noise. It was Jeannie May, the motel owner. She had been bound and gagged with torn bits of her own blouse. Her face was bruised and swollen; the imprint of a gun chamber still red on her cheek.
"What the hell have you done?" he yelled at her, reaching down to untie the old woman.
Trinity moved to block his path. "I wouldn't do that," she told him, reaching into her pocket for the document she'd found in the safe. Initially she'd planned to hand him the note and part ways, but there was an issue. There was no way for her to tell how advanced his reading skills were. If she wanted to be sure he got the message, she'd have to read it to him.
"We, the representatives of the Consul Officiorum, have this day bargained and purchased from JEANNIE MAY CRAWFORD of the township of Novac the exclusive rights to OWNERSHIP AND SALE OF THE SLAVE CARLA BOONE for the sum of one thousand bottle caps, AND THOSE OF HER UNBORN CHILD for the sum of five hundred bottle caps, the receipt whereof is hereby acknowledged-"
Trinity paused when she saw that Boone had dropped his gun. His fists clenched tightly at his sides, he fought back the sudden urge to vomit. This woman –if she could even be called that- had pretended to be in his corner; had even shed tears when he'd told her his wife had gone missing.
"We warrant the slave and her young to be sound, healthy, and SLAVES FOR LIFE. We covenant with the said, JEANNIE MAY CRAWFORD, that we have full power to BARGAIN AND SELL said slave and her offspring. Payment of AN ADDITIONAL FIVE HUNDRED BOTTLE CAPS will be due pending SUCCESSFUL MATURATION OF THE FETUS, the claim to which shall be guaranteed by possession of this document. M. Scribonius Libo Drusus et al. Administrators of M. Licinius Crassus, Consul Officiorum ab Famulatus."
It was over so quickly. A neutral observer, Trinity watched as Boone knocked the woman to the ground with the end of his gun. His glasses made him almost expressionless as he shot her in both kneecaps; her right shoulder. Boone stood over her wordlessly, the barrel of his gun drifting slowly from her right eye to her left. Although she was gagged, Trinity could tell the old woman was begging for her life. She could see the slight tremble in his trigger finger before he ended it with a clean bullet between her eyes. As she turned to leave, Trinity could see how shaken Boone still was. She was surprised at how hard he had to try to hold it together. She would have done the same.. perhaps more.
The moment was heavy; almost too heavy for him to process all at once. Struggling to force air into his lungs, Boone looked up and saw a flash of red hair as Trinity made her way down the stairs. His first instinct was to let her leave, but he knew he had to say something. The girl had brought him the one responsible for his wife's sale, after all. Half-stumbling over to the doorway, Boone cleared his throat as he tried to speak.
"….Thank you."
Already halfway down the stairs, Trinity didn't stop or look back. "It was justice," she told him bluntly.
Boone opened his mouth as if to speak, but reconsidered. Justice. It had been a long time since he'd seen anyone truly give this much of a damn about him. Sure, his comrades in the NCR had watched his back, but that was military. This girl wasn't under oath. She had no allegiance to him. If she was anything like most wasteland scum, she should have been more than pleased to leave without telling him what she knew. Maybe she was more trustworthy than he'd originally thought, unlike people around here..
"Trinity," he started. This time, she stopped and turned to face him. Suddenly confronted by her gaze, Boone lost the rest of his sentence. Even with the dark tint his sunglasses cast over the hall, her eyes were bright and determined. Maybe he needed to get away from Novac. There was nothing left for him here.
Trinity crossed her arms and stared up at him expectantly. Slowly, Boone made his way down the stairs to where she stood. His hand tightened around his gun as he slung it over his shoulder. She already knew what he was going to say.
"I'm coming with you."