So this one got incredibly long because I wrote out a plan for this chapter and I so desperately wanted to fit everything in. I think it's my brain trying to compensate for the last chapter. But I'm happy with this one - in fact, it wasn't even a struggle to write. If that's not progress... right?
I'd like to thank Tom-Ato13 for giving me a hand with this. And I'd like to thank everyone who has commented and followed and favourited so far. Means more than a lot to me, trust me.
Walk on By (Sound Remedy Remix) - Noosa
or if you're not one for remixes, there is an original of that song. It's also freaking excellent. check it out.
It was just light enough outside for the street lamps to turn off for the morning, the sun attempting to creep through the thick, clumpy clouds that drilled the Strip a super pink. The weather gods did not seem happy; a bad sign on the group's behalf, but the courier was not waiting any longer. She had to go put a new brain in a dog.
With a heavy pack on her back and followed by Boone and Veronica and a cyber dog, Annie was ready to set off towards Jacobstown. For the first time in a while, the courier was semi-sure of herself – she had goals now..! Steady, normal and very ambitious goals. The days of fucking around in some sand were over and now she had grown into a responsible young lady. She had a casino now… And if that wasn't every twenty-something year old wasteland woman's biggest dream, then what was the point of even living?
Two words scratched behind Annie's eyeballs when she blinked. THIS BLOWS.
There was something itching beneath her skin (a feeling stronger than guilt and anger), telling her to turn around and walk away. She had no love for the Strip and it's political issues – they were like a leech on her nerves, and boy, it would have been so easy to crawl back to Papa Khan like a whimpering child. Jessup said they would take her back- and she could more than definitely get past the initiations…
Oh god… when was the last time she had been in a fight? The bar brawl with Cass didn't amount to anything compared to her earlier ones. Sitting in a hotel for that long while had lost her her love of destruction! Nothing was better than the feeling of a sharp steel-cap boot and the taste of bloody dust… return home to the tent for a warm night with whoever you liked the most at that point in time… there was no thrill in her life anymore! The irritation burnt like dry ice bubbling at her skin, getting more tense by the second in posture and in face.
Rex let out two sharp barks.
"We ready, Boss?" Veronica tinkled behind her, catching Annie's attention. She looked down at her hands and untwisted them, letting out a little squeak in shame of the name. "Lead the way, then." Pointing to the pink streets, the scribe gave the other girl a quick nudge in the right direction. As far as Boone was concerned, Annie was still completely zonked. Like an upright corpse, the courier was promoting a false air of confidence. Her eyes were well-lit and certain but the bitten nails and sleepy slump told all.
"Yeah yeah, g'off my back." Annie waved over her shoulder, clomping down the ramp with her tightly laced boots. It was a muggy morning that had already summoned sweat under her bangs, splitting them and crawling down her face. Boone had told her that Jacobstown was near snow - he even pointed the mountains out in the distance for her… At least there was something to look forward to.
"Look at it this way Annie…" Veronica kept on. "At least you're doing better than that guy."
Leaning against the chain-link trash fence was a passed-out NCR soldier, probably fresh off the monorail and waist deep in alcohol poisoning. He had a note folded in his hands, like he had fallen asleep waiting for someone. The paper was poised out, lit up by the neon light that leaked through the slowly thinning clouds.
Her shoulders slumped. Every time an NCR grunt was planted outside the 38 it meant the old fogey at the barracks was calling for her. She had ignored him for a long time – in fact, ever since they had arrived at the Strip, she had ignored him. The NCR loved to make her do things she didn't want to do – and being constantly attached to Boone, it made it very hard to decline… Annie could already imagine the look he would give her if he found out she'd been avoiding them. It made her grin.
She marched over, plucking the note free of the young man's hand. Her sudden movement shocked her companions, not expecting much from the snail pace Annie had adopted recently. Boone stalked after her, tugging the note from her hands just as she went to break the paper seal.
"That's not yours." His voice came out stern and right. Annie snapped her eyes up to him.
"I'm nearly ninety-five percent sure it is." She corrected him as the man snapped his fingers in the soldier's face. The grunt awoke with a jerk, eyes flickering between the three elders in attempt to figure himself out. He jumped again, clenching and unclenching his hands only to find nothing. He slapped his body in search, coming up clean and letting out a little groan.
"This yours?" Boone asked, holding the note in the young man's face. The soldier shook his head in disbelief, taking the paper back into his possession as he muttered a tiny 'thank you'. "No problem. C'mon." The sniper cocked his head towards the gate, Annie's eyes narrowing in annoyance.
"You waiting for me?" She asked the boy, folding her arms. Squinting in the harsh light, the younger man leant forward to take a better look at her. Confirming her face, he nodded.
"Yeah—Yes, I am, actually. For Annie O." He handed the note out to her, the courier grinning again before side glancing at Boone. She took it between her fingers, attempting to pull it away before the soldier spoke again. "Dennis Crocker wants me to add, that, uhh… that-" (He cleared his throat of sleep) "-since this is the third time that he's sent a message-" Annie eyes widened, holding up her hands.
"Private conversation, soldier!" Shushing him with a finger, she turned to Boone and Veronica. "I'm just going to take this on the side, alright? Ten minutes, tops." She ushered the boy away towards the local securitrons, fighting off the knowing glances of her partner and the scribe. As much as she enjoyed tormenting the sniper, she didn't really need him upset with her choices all the way to a town full of mutants.
Hand on the soldier's arm, Annie pulled him close. "What does Crocker want now?" The boy cleared his throat again, uncomfortable with the girl's grip.
"Since this is the third time he's sent a message to you, he wanted me to add that it is now marked as urgent."
The girl stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowing slowly.
"That's it?" She snatched it from his hands, slowly devouring the words with her bad eyes. "Is that a bad thing?"
"Uh-"
She looked over at her companions and to back to the note, releasing her grip on the poor man's shoulder.
"Alright, whatever. Go on." She waved him away. "Shoo." Skimming over the note once again, she picked out the key words the best she could. She could have grafitied her own billboard the way that the NCR liked to twist her arm. Turning on her heel, back towards the scribe and the sniper, Annie dumped her pack at their feet.
"Third time he's sent what message?" Boone asked when she caught his eye, the young girl pulling a face.
"Don't look at me like that. I've been busy." Hands on her hips, she tucked the note sneakily into her pocket. "Come on, can't waste anymore time."
With the speed of a scorned mother, Boone had the note from her pocket. Annie reached up to tug it away, only to be caught by the wrist. Veronica took a step back, having never seen one of the two's power tussles before – the sight was a little off-putting to a bystander who didn't understand the finer points of their relationship. The sniper, still as cold as ever, lowered her arm and folded the paper two more times.
Even though she could barely see his eyes through the sky's tint on his glasses, Annie knew just the look he was giving her. She could tell by the way he tensed his jaw… the way he sort of rolled his neck to relieve whatever tension she had caused him…
She grew her sick grin instantly. "That's not yours."
He knew she was right, her stupid grin stretching wider to tease him. He felt the tug of guilt in his stomach and he handed her back the note. It was just that Annie usually told him everything she was doing – and her hiding something about the NCR… His eyes fell from wide to narrow.
Annie felt terrible after that- she probably should have just gotten the Embassy visit over and done with. She knew how much the NCR meant to Boone, and she'd blatantly refused to acknowledge that. If it came down to a choice between her and his republic (even though she knew he liked her more than he put on) he would choose sweet freedom and a rifle.
The note lay stagnate between them, the girl staring up at him with those wide, almost naïve eyes… Did he even have a reason to be irritated about it? He hadn't exactly told her everything he had and hadn't done.
The two looked at each other miserably.
"Read it. Go ahead." Annie held it out again. "I didn't understand most of it anyway." She turned to Veronica as Boone began to decipher Crocker's typing, crouching down to go through her bag for her smokes. If the sniper found anything wrong with that note he would have marched her to the embassy himself. "Sorry about the hold up, Ron, I know how excited you were about watching robo-dog surgery."
"I think I can wait a little longer. Besides, this is more important." Veronica adjusted her hood, shielding her eyes from the almost blinding sunrise. "'Don't step on the bear'."
Annie rolled her eyes at that, urging herself to take a glance at her partner.
"Is it bad?" She asked. He looked down at her, almost apprehensively, and folded the note back four times.
"You have to go see Dennis Crocker." He told her plainly, passing it back. The girl stood up straight. "Now."
"Now?" She whined.
"Now."
"We don't have the time for Dennis Crocker." She threw her hands out. "We have to go and fix Rex. I'm more scared of The King than I am of Dennis fucking Crocker."
The look he gave her could have shrunk her down twice if Annie wasn't so snappy, the folding her arms across her chest in annoyance. Sweet, faithful Boone… So loyal to his fair republic… She was painfully reminded of his future crossroad choices by the stitched on patch on his red beret. He wasn't even in the damn army anymore and he still wore it.
Annie ground her teeth together in thought. Rex needed a new brain, but in all honesty if she declined a meeting with the old bastard in the embassy, Boone would not be a happy man. That's the last thing she wanted.
A sigh burst from her lips. Another sacrifice for the greater good…
"Go without me." She crouched back down to unzip the main pocket of her backpack. She began to drag out her medical kit, sorting through water bottles and spare clothes. "Don't need three people to walk a dog. I'll go see this old man and if you're not back in like, four days, I'll walk over with Raul and Cass."
"We can stay another day." Boone said, leaning down to attempt to stop her. She waved him away again.
"No, it's okay, sweetheart. Cool down. Veronica will look after you, I know that for a fact."
The scribe nodded.
"You're in great, powerful hands." She laughed at Annie, catching Boone's stoic stare momentarily before awkwardly pausing. "Ah, I'll do all the talking."
"Yeah, you just make sure she doesn't get hurt." The courier pointed up at the man. She held out her med kit, making sure Boone tucked it into his bag safely. "Even a scratch on her lovely little head and god help me…" She drawled off, lunging to full height. Flicking a few dials on her pipboy, she held out the screen to the scribe – running her finger along the road towards Jacobstown. "Boone already knows how to get there, but really it seems like a pretty simple walk."
"Yep, cool." Veronica nodded. "So… we'll see you when we get back?"
"Not if I get there first." Annie beamed, reaching over to give Rex an awkward 'farewell' pat on the back. "Don't worry about me…" She sighed again; grinning at the two of them "Got some politics to rough out. The wastes can wait."
"We can stay another day." Boone repeated.
"No, get this over and done with. We promised The King we'd fix his dog. The sooner it's over, the better." She took a step back, hoisting her bag back over her shoulders. "Now, you two be safe. No getting into fist fights with the mutants." Annie held out her arms for Veronica. "And when I say that, I mean you." Sweeping the scribe into a hug, the courier patted the back of her head lovingly.
"Been there, done that." The younger girl leant back. "We'll be fine, Annie."
"Better be. And you,-" she turned to Boone, the man eyeing her unhappily. He was stuck in another situation where his pressure on Annie broke the wrong camel's back. He'd never been out alone with Veronica before… Did she talk as much as Annie? She had a powerfist –a close range combatant… He'd hang back a bit farther that trip. "-nothin' stupid." She reached up to hold his jaw in her right hand, tapping him on the chin before giving him a happy pat. Her brain was groaning in annoyance – she was sleeping alone that night… No Boone to subconsciously curl around while he slept and didn't know a thing… Get your act together, Annie! Her mind scolded in attempt to stay level-headed. Rex needed to get on the road - the shiny beast laying unhappily in the filtered sunlight. Go to Crocker, tell him to fuck off, and get back on track.
The man nodded.
"Seeya." Veronica gave a happy wave as they retreated towards the gate. Annie shooed them off, heavy-hearted and bubbling with a cool annoyance. She turned on her heel as soon as they slipped through the metal gates, clomping off straight towards the other end of the Strip.
The first she was going to do when she got home was contemplate the uses of the two other gates that separated the strip. Was it really necessary to have to wait for the securitrons guard to open and close them for you? It was a waste of time, and even Annie's teeth were on edge about it. She was on breaking point, stressing herself into a shake that jittered through her fingers like an angry bug a jar.
She burst through the doors of the embassy, greeted by three NCR soldiers and the receptionist sitting around having their morning coffees. They looked up at her in shock, the courier still decked out in her travel armour. If it were any other moment she would have looked like an insane merc.
"Can I help you?" The woman asked, standing up behind her desk. The men scattered back to their posts, watching Annie with steel glances as she floated up towards the receptionist.
"I'm here to see Dennis Crocker." She put her hands flat on the desk, the other woman leaning back.
"Do you have an appointment?" Receptionist countered, not having any of Annie's shit. The courier's face tightened at the sharpness of her voice, slipping her hand slowly into her front pocket. The men in the room tightened the grip on their guns.
"I have a note that's marked urgent." Holding Boone's squarely folded note, she slipped it over the polished wood. "I had a little boy outside my house all night waiting for me. Now, I have somewhere I need to be, but since this note is marked urgent… I figured this was more important than the place I need to be." She pressed the paper forward. "Yeah."
The woman gaped at her for a moment before settling herself down. "Alright. I apologise. You must understand that we've only just opened the doors for the day. Mr Crocker isn't in yet."
"Can you get him? I'm sure since this note is marked urgent—"
"Mikey, can you go get Mr Crocker please. Make sure to tell him that- I'm sorry, I didn't get your name…-"
"Uh," she glanced at the note "Annie O."
"Annie O… Alright, make sure to tell him that Annie O. is requesting a meeting in the Embassy lobby, please?" The receptionist nodded him off. "Thank you."
Annie brightened as the doors swung closed. "Great, thank you. I'll just take a seat then?"
"Yes, ma'am. Coffee? Tea?"
"Coffee, perfect." Annie tipped off her bag and plonked down beside a soldier, tucking the pack between her knees. "Thank you." She reached up to tighten her ponytail, running her fingers through her bangs to seem sort of acceptable in front of the screamingly silent room. She glanced up at the man to her right. "Hi." She nodded.
The man smiled cheerfully at her. "Good morning."
She gave a sweet mumble in agreement. "Enjoying your time on the Strip?"
"Whenever I get to see it, yes." He nodded back down to her, crossing his arms around his rifle.
"Ah, working for your stay, huh?" She rubbed her arms, the embassy's shitty aircon finally kicking in for the morning. The soldier shook his head.
"On duty from McCarren. First rail in in the morning, last rail out at night."
"Hmm, got a good little system." Annie replied happily, receiving the steaming black cup of fragrance. She let it cool in her lap.
"You could call it that." He shrugged and cleared his throat after a moment of silence. "Ma'am… If you don't mind me asking… well, we've heard about you on the radios and uh…. What's the 'O' stand for?"
The girl squinted. The 'O? … The 'O' on the note? She spat a short laugh. "Fucked if I know." The doors opened once again, siphoning pink light all over the dirty carpet. A dishevelled man, mid forties with a nice blue suit was standing before her, straightening his tie and dusting crumb from his cuffs.
"Annie O! You've decided to come and see me." He greeted her brightly, starting forward to reach for her hand. The girl took her cup in one and pushed up with the other, wiping the residue on the pants of her armour. "I assume Joshua got you the message."
"Yeah, well… poor boy should be out enjoying himself, not waiting for me to get out of bed." She sipped the coffee. "Now what the hell is so urgent?"
"Come," he ushered her along, the girl picking up her pack with one hand to hoist it away. "to my office."
He sat her down and shut the door, slinking back towards the chair behind his computer. The NCR president above Mr Crocker stared straight over her head with unblinking eyes; stoic and proud of whatever messes he had inherited… President Kimball… That name rang a big, dirty bell in her head.
"Now, I assume you've read my note."
"Yeah, I have. I've read them all." She took another drink, holding the warm cup on her knee. "But, I don't exactly get what you're throwing at me, here."
The old man pursed his lips into a thin line, staring Annie straight down the barrel. The girl watched him with rigid shoulders, borrowing techniques she had used on Boone's silent stare – and Mr Crocker was not as serious as Boone. The man looked away, brows creased together as he tattered on his keyboard suddenly.
"It's recently come to our attention that Mr House has passed away… And you and your-" (he paused, searching for a word) "-friends have been living inside the Lucky 38 for a few months now…" Annie listened carefully to his words, nodding along with his syllables like a child to a storybook. He checked his notes, eyes skimming the words before pointing them out for her. "We also had word that you were seen taking a securitron out from the Tops Casino, I believe, and into the Lucky 38 around that same time..." He leant an elbow on his desk, face like a cheeky old grandfather.
The courier didn't know what to say, rolling her shoulders for a moment before shrugging coolly.
"Before you go any further sir, I want you to understand that threatening me will get you nowhere." Her body stayed calm but her brain was raging war, boiling over after the long morning of irritations.
"I'm not threatening you, Miss O." He leant back. "No, no, no…" He shook his hands at her. "It's been requested that I let you know that if you are getting any ideas about the Strip now that it has fallen into your lap… well… The NCR is not going to be able to work with you anymore. We will not accept your help and will not come to your aid if you wish to break alliance."
She leant forward, eyes burning into his with such intense and concentrated rage that she had to tuck her hands between her thighs to stop them from vibrating. It was silent for a moment, Annie attempting to cool herself down with a touch on the forehead.
"Now you listen to me, old man!" Her hand snapped from the hole in her head to point directly at his chest "I did not come here to get a smack on the wrist for doing nothing wrong!"
The man narrowed his eyes in thought, leaning back in his chair to take in her words to the full effect.
"I have been nothing but polite to the NCR and now you're coming at me with what? You'll cut me off if I get any ideas?" Her hands gripped the side of the chair. "That's not on." She paused, waiting for him to speak. When no words came, she leant even closer, voice lowering "I'm sorry, but do you really think you have some sort of massive standpoint against me when you don't even speak for everybody on the Strip?"
"I didn't arrange this meeting in hopes that I would make you angry, Annie. May I call you Annie?"
"Yeah, sure." She sniffed, slumping back into her seat.
"It was never my intention to upset you, Annie." He rested his elbows on the desk, lacing his fingers together in thought. "I am just carrying the word from above me. I understand your point, young lady, and I also understand that you were House's appointed protégé. You did all the long yards for him, and you deserve that casino."
"Are you trying to stroke my ego, Mr Crocker? I already know that casinos mine. Regardless of whether you want it or not, sir, you're not allowed to have it." She grinned her sticky grin at him, reaching a breaking point in her fight against her villain behind the desk. "In fact, in saying that, Mr Crocker, the Strip is technically under my control. So technically… You should be listening to me."
"The only man I answer to is President Kimball, ma'am." The man replied simply.
"And you can. That's what I want you to do." She added, much to his distaste. "I want things to stay just as they are. You can have your embassy and your barracks and your damn monorail. You can safely stay in my Strip, because I have no problems with the NCR. If, however, you were to start poking me a little too hard with that whole 'cutting me off' thing, you will be the first one packing your bags."
The man thought for a long while, Annie sipping her cooling coffee with the man in her sight over the cracked white rim of the cup. She had won; thank the great gods in the sky! On the inside her organs felt like liquid, tossed and bubbled by the shuddering and twitching of her muscles.
"I don't want any trouble, sir." She added quietly at the end, to smooth over the rough edges she left with her quick-shot words. "Considering your reputation with the three families, I don't think any sort of take over would go down too well, either. So don't get any ideas. Play it safe for a while."
Dennis Crocker wasn't a stupid man. He sure as hell wasn't a pushover, either, but the fire in her sight looked like it was burning out of control as she twitched in her seat across from him. The girl looked like she had a loose wire, eyes like dinner plates as she stared him down in an almost mocking way. She had won; there was no doubt about it. She controlled the securitrons (the same ones that were patrolling the monorail platforms in the broadcasting building), so she had the power.
Annie had stomped on the bear, but had offered stimpack afterwards with a quick 'and don't do it again, you hear?'
"I have some letters to send." He told her and she smiled warmly, standing suddenly. Her legs felt like jelly, throbbing with a dull ache from all the tension buildup. Shaking herself out, she pulled her pack onto her shoulders and held out her hand.
Annie didn't want to leave on a bad note. If word circulated that the courier was not playing by the rules, Boone would not be impressed. It was bad enough that she had been hiding the letters like a horrible report card, but if he came home to the sight of hundreds of slaughtered NCR soldiers littering the streets of the Strip, he probably would have killed her himself. She cleared her throat.
"If you want, Mr Crocker, I can set up a monthly meeting with you, me and the three families. We can talk about things, get it all smoothed over." She gripped his hand tightly, giving it a firm shake. "Swank loves me and Cachino owes me a big one. I can give you all the help you need, if you let me."
"And the White Glove Society?" The man was baited.
"Like they'd want to be the only ones not knowing anything." She rolled her eyes and the man nodded, giving her hand another shake.
"Thank you for finally visiting, Annie O." Crocker walked her to the door, turning the knob and helping her out with a tight smile on his face. "It was a pleasure."
After trumping around the Strip all morning, visiting the three families and getting their words signed in agreement, Annie had returned back to Freeside for lunch. She didn't want to go back to the casino (the thought of it made her ill), so she booked herself some squirrel on a stick and a sarsaparilla and headed up to her and Boone's Wrangler room.
The sky outside had faded from its glorious pink to a heavy shade of grey, the clouds threatening to spill at any moment. In the distance was some lightning, followed by the soft sounds of far away thunder. There was no chance of her getting out to meet Boone and Veronica by nightfall, especially with the way the weather threatened her.
She decided to stay inside, curled up in the sheets with the white wash walls for company. Digging into the squirrel, the courier watched the ceiling. She would have liked to be with her friends somewhere else, out there in the wasteland… Cass was sleeping off another bender and Raul had buried himself into the processes of Yes Man's old body for the day (he was quite enthusiastic about it, actually – no air of sarcasm could be traced)… and Boone and Veronica were gone.
Annie suddenly hoped she hadn't sent them to their deaths. On their way to rescue Raul from Black Mountain, they had run into a big old green man named Neil – he talked of Jacobstown and how civil it was there, but the more time spent hiking up the road to find the ghoul just imprinted the idea that the big old blue ones were fucking loopy.
Veronica would take care of Boone… The young girl was a godsend – always eerily understanding and ready to lighten things up when they fell dull. She'd even managed to get more awkward grins out of Boone than the courier had ever done – a feat in itself, bearing in mind the circumstances. And Boone…
Boone would look after Veronica. Boone looked after everybody. He was a very generous man, considering.
The bed beside her was cold as she lay down, abandoning the sharpened stick and resting her soda on the nightstand. Her hands laced on her stomach, eyes closing softly. She was so tired, tense and worried. The scary lack of security troubled her, feeling miserable without Boone to sort of ebb the fear away. He was usually the rock in bed beside her that always radiated warmth for her taking…
Annie could feel where he slept, imprinted in the mattress softly under her fingers. He was always there when she woke up, still quietly snoozing beside her as his brain attempted to piece itself back together after a long day of tearing himself apart. She'd missed him so much when he disappeared for those two weeks… The courier would check back to Novac every few days, constantly on the move – waiting for him to come home to her but expecting the worse. Then she had sent him back on the road again! Without her!
Boone will be back soon, she assured herself sleepily. Boone will be back and he'll sort things out like he always does. Boone's good at that… Boone will… be back… Boone will…
"Just go. It'll be fun! When's the last time you went out with the boys?" Dianne nudged Annie's shoulder with her own, arms filled with boxes of Abraxo. "Why do you even need me to talk you into it? You love caravan raids."
Annie stared her down, pursing her lips.
"I know."
"Hey Anna! You coming out or what?" Jessup called from behind her, wiping his dusty hands on his jeans. He was clustered together with two other men, varying in heights and hair colours but all wearing the same rags.
Chance was behind him, pupils lit with a fresh hit of psycho; the big man's muscles jumping under his skin in excitement. Annie had only gotten home that afternoon and he had already fucked her twice.
The girl nodded, floating off to hover behind the group – silent with thoughts of anything exhilarating just to get the adrenalin pumping. She felt strangely content, still almost – like her heart was beating slower and her blood was barely draining through. Her hands were like ice in the warm Mojave air.
By the time she had blinked, they were already at their posts; smoking cigarettes behind a burnt out bus on the road towards the 188. Malcolm was sharpening his knife with a smooth stone, the cherry of his smoke jumping with the words of a song they had heard on the radio back at Dianne's camp.
"We got something." Jessup twitched his fingers, urging Chance over. "Doesn't look like a caravan though. No brahmin, no nothin'."
Chance grunted in return, tugging the tip of Annie's vest to pull her along.
"If they're walking this time of night, they've gotta have somethin'" Malcolm shook his head, flicking the butt of his smoke off into the empty shell of a bus. "Fuck 'em, caps is caps."
"They'll have passports with them." The blond rumbled from her right.
Three figures were heading down the highway, one hunched under a heavy bag under the dim moon. It was only a quarter that night, sliced with a beautiful curve that hid behind the dainty clouds. Malcolm was humming his tune, turning the taped handle of his knife between his palms. The four of them were poised to pounce, Annie's little action plan playing out like a slow production… she could feel each brush of the night air on her bare arms… Everything was so surreal…
Jessup and Malcolm stalked around the back of the bus, hiding behind a shuddery piece of scrap metal as they glanced over the sudden arrival. Annie slipped over to the opposite side, slithering across the road unnoticed by the three. As they came closer into view, Annie figured out that it was a man and two women – one old and one young. The man in the middle was carrying the heavy bag; a rifle clutched in his hands like his life depended on it. It was brave to even think about travelling at night in Khan Country.
Chance stepped out onto the middle of the road, his behemoth frame stretching like a deathclaw ready to pounce. The women cowered at the sight, retreating behind their middleman.
"What's in the bag?" The blonde's voice came out in a low growl, as it always did. The man raised his rifle suddenly, taking aim for Chance's chest before the squeal of the young girl caught his attention. In the sudden shock, Annie had managed to throw her arm around her neck, lurching her back into a chokehold. Malcolm apprehended the man from behind, using the weight of the pack to over-balance him. The old woman, a shrivelled old thing that looked like she had barely fight left in her, had her arm grabbed by Jessup.
Throwing the pack to Chance, Malcolm tugged the man to his knees and unknotted the bandana around his forehead, twisting it around the wrists of the captive. He salvaged the shitty assault rifle, looking it over in the pale moonlight.
Annie pushed the girl onto all fours, tugging her back up by the raggedy travelling cardigan she had wrapped around her shoulders. Jessup (still a gentleman under all that grit) kept the old one on her feet.
"Passports." Chance grunted, pulling out the three tattered books. He flicked through them, searching for the NCR bear embossed into the second page from the front. "NCR citizens."
"That means we'll be takin' ya caps." Malcolm smacked the man on the back of the head with the butt of his knife. "And whatever else ya got to offer."
"Just take whatever you want." The old woman groaned, bruising under Jessup's loose grip.
"Mother." The man hissed. The old woman sent a scathing look at her son, untwisting her grizzled lips into a thin line.
"Just take what you want, and let us go."
"Now that ain't no fun." Malcolm complained as Chance dug through the pack. "We get to have a little sample of the goods, right?" The Khan tucked the knotted man's neck towards the young girl with his blade.
"Fuck you." The son shuddered with anger. "Fuck you." The man had bright blue eyes. Annie could tell by the way the clouds reflected so clearly off them under the beaming light of the moon. Malcolm cracked him again with the taped butt, Blue Eyes groaning and slumping forward to retrieve his senses.
Annie watched the old woman's gaze dart over Chance's hands, the young Khans' eyes taking in all the elements of the elderly lady. She reminded her of Nanna, the way the lines crinkled at the corner of her mouth when she spoke.
Jessup was leaning forward to get a better look into the traveller's bag, his jet eyes not on the job. Annie noticed his grip slipping from the woman's arm, the old lady sending looks to her son. As all the Khans, bar one, picked apart the backpack, Blue Eyes and Nanna were scheming. Their eyes were locked, communicating through eerily similar bright blue stares.
The old lady suddenly broke away from Jessup, snatching off on the turn of her heel. She had speed to her, her shitty leather shoes patting off into the close distance as she made her break for it. Annie couldn't help but grin… Any woman over 50 in the wastes was a tough bitch. The young girl was sobbing by now, shoulders shuddering miserably as her cries covered up the light footfalls of the sprinting Nanna.
Jessup cried out, snapping Chance's neck up and Malcolm's new gun out of its holster. The tanned man, still humming that fucking tune under the bright moonlight, aimed the assault rifle at the distance and sprayed without a second thought.
Nanna dropped to the ground.
The girl started to cry louder, Blue Eyes cringing quite roughly at the sound of the woman's bubbling groans a few metres down. There was a howl of coyotes around the canyons, startled into a prowl at the sporadic gunshots.
"Shit dude, you just shot an old lady!" Jessup backed away from Malcolm, unsteady on his feet as the peak of his high began to set in.
"Bitch tried to fuckin' run." Malcolm tapped the hot barrel on Blue Eye's blond hair. "That's a fuckin' lesson for ya. Jess, go drag the old girl back."
The redhead obliged begrudgingly, trudging off into the darkness to slide the old lady back by her ankles. With the shifting dirt and the digging in the bag, Malcolm's dizzy humming was drowned out.
Annie watched Blue Eyes bite back some form of tears as Jessup pulled his mother up beside him, her dress ridden up over her torso and stained with sand. Dropping the ankles with a thud, Jessup returned to the bag, crouching down next to Chance to pull apart the small medical kit wrapped in old blankets.
"Anythin' good?" Malcolm was stroking Blue Eye's hair with the barrel, parting it almost mockingly. Good little NCR boys always grew up big and strong!
"Some stims, med-x, uh, look at that! That's alotta caps."
"Count 'em." Chance grunted, making eye contact with Malcolm. The Hispanic man grinned.
"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin', Chancey?" The Khan with the moustache cleaned his teeth with his tongue. The blond looked up, Malcolm like a looming god from his short view. Although the man was big, Chance was incredibly easy to influence if you had the right grip on him. Malcolm was too charismatic to stop some days. "Anna, watch the man."
Chucking the girl the gun, Malcolm kicked the man over face first into the gravel to savour the sputtering cry from old Blue Eyes. The young woman in her grip went to flee at her sudden freedom, only to be seized by the man with the knife at her chest.
"Come on, sweetheart. I won't hurt ya." He flicked the blade towards the bus. "Over there, honey, right in front of it. Lay down for me." He gave her a sticky grin. "And don't fuckin' try to run."
Annie rolled the cool barrel between her fingers, staring over at Blue Eyes with no tact. He was only young, maybe mid-twenties. Definitely older than Annie, but still didn't know any better than spitting at Malcolm's feet. The Khan roared and gave him a rib-splitting kick in the side with his newly upholstered steel cap boots.
"And jus' for your little fuckin' brother, I will hurt ya." He called to the girl who was shivering by the bus with a stony faced Chance. She cringed, tears squeezing down her face and dotting the off-pink cardigan.
Annie's finger on the trigger of the rifle was steady, slightly fidgeting with every wave of calm that flooded her system – like a cold cloth on her forehead as her fever burned deliriously. Blue Eyes drooled blood for a while, rolling onto his back to watch the starry sky with bleary eyes. Malcolm stalked off and the jingle of caps rang in the back of her head, Jessup attempting to count past eleven quietly under his breath.
Blue Eyes struggled to breath, chest raising with a shudder only to sink miserably back down.
"That's my wife, you know?" He spoke quietly, just over the gurgle of the blood in his lungs. Annie and Jessup glanced over. "We're heading for the Strip… They say it's better than Nipton. My mother-…" he stopped, shutting his eyes. "My mother was coming to live with us… I told them walking at night would be safer… less traffic on the streets."
"You forgot about us, huh?" Jessup muttered happily. "Twelve… Twelve… Thirteen?"
"Oh god-" Blue Eyes choked out. "This is my fault. I'm so sorry, dad." His breath swept to the moon, finding Annie's undivided attention. "I'm so sorry… Etta." The girls sobs were louder and jolted, a yelp at each intrusive thrust from whichever Khan got in first. It took one to hold the girl down, and the other got a free for all on whatever the woman could offer.
Caravan raids were easier, more fun… Hijacks on the side of the road always ended up with some poor girl left silent in the dust. Annie liked the idea of tipping NCR caravans, set them on fire and make the soldiers watch all while scaring the brahmin off into the distance with a loud slap on the hide. Then they'd leave the troop tied-up in the middle of the desert with one bottle of water and no medicine, and wait for them to crawl back to base so the big bosses could get unhappy about it.
Anything to rile the bastards up.
"Thirteen… Fourteen? Fifteen. Sixteen!"
Blue Eyes craned his neck to look over at Annie, catching her curious stare.
"My names Danny." His words stayed soft, tears cleaning small slides of his face. "My mother's name is… was Beatrice." Danny cleared his throat, staring back up into the universe. "My wife's name is Etta."
"Shut it." Annie snapped. The man shut his eyes, praying to god that the sound of counted caps would drown out his wife's pleas for mercy. There was a quick grunt from a male's throat, Annie recognising Chance's sudden gasp of climax.
Her jaw tensed, eyes darting to the dirt.
"Why do you do this?" Danny spoke again. "People are always telling me that…" (wheeze) "…Khans are just raiders with their brains still in tact."
"I think the girl told you to shut up." Jessup barked. "Fuck! … One, two…"
"You're going to kill me anyway." Blue Eyes countered. The redhead grunted, burying himself back into the cap purse. Annie let her brows rise as Danny turned back to her. "Just let us go. We won't cause any trouble. We'll go straight to where we're going and never talk about it again."
She spat a laugh at him.
Danny coughed again. "There's more to life than this. There has to be." He spoke openly to the sky now. "There has to be more… there… has… to… be."
"Hey, what the fuck—" Malcolm was staggering around, belt buckle half undone in his hands. A blur of white struck past her, Danny's wife staggering past as she attempted to run with her underwear around her ankles. Somehow Etta had managed to outsmart the two men while their backs were turned, Chance slumped in the dirt as he came down from orgasm that rode on psycho. "Fuckin' shoot her Anna! Anna, get your fuckin' gun!"
Danny had rolled onto his stomach, one hand free of the rotting bandana that had been binding him. He must have been undoing it as he talked as a distraction. Blue Eyes had already reached her, cracking his skull into hers as he stumbled up onto two legs. The man must have had combat training, Annie falling back into the dirt seeing stars as the gun was snatched from her hands. Jessup lunged for Danny, spilling caps all over the bitumen before getting a boot to the nose. The two young Khans lay in the dirt, spun out on their chems and headaches.
Annie could barely think as the ratatatat echoed through the desert, her mind only on Danny's last words. There's more to life than this… there has to be more…. there… has… to… be… The stars stared down at her like sickly imps, the moon curved into a smile that taunted her even from such heights. She had to shut her eyes.
Jessup was up again, shakily pulling his pistol from his side as he squinted in the darkness. Danny was standing over Malcolm, his rifle pointed down at the struggling man's chest. The Khan was gagging and kicking, dust clouds forming around his heavy foots.
The redhead capped Blue Eyes three times in the chest just as he managed to look back over.
"Danny!" Etta shrieked from the distance, running back over without thought. Chance watched her sprint from his haze in the dust. "Danny, no! Oh my god, Danny, what have you done?!" She slid out beside her gasping husband, their young bodies falling together as the woman wailed. The sound gave Annie chills.
Jessup shot again – picking the girl off right between the eyes.
The body fell and Danny let out one last choke, his wife spilling over him in a rush of red and brain matter. All was black as Annie laid there, Jessup's gasps and groans rumbling over Malcolm's tune in her head. Chance was pulling himself up, tugging up his jeans to snap the belt buckle into place.
Malcolm took his last breath under the quarter moon - carried back over Chance's shoulder. No one spoke on the way home, Jessup's forearms incredibly itchy and raw. Annie packed her bags that night.
There has to be more… she thought, pressing in pounds of chew tobacco and all the water she could find into her mother's backpack... there has to be.