~(:(Chapter Six):)~
Hancock leaned back on the worn brick of the Old State House, arms crossed over his chest as he stared towards the front courtyard. The sun had set about an hour ago, the towering buildings surrounding the town like dark monuments against the night sky.
Sam and Jack stood near the town's entrance with two of the Neighborhood Watch as they checked their gear. Jack and the Watchmen would be escorting her out of the city so she could run back to her little hideout.
After sunshine had locked herself in her bedroom, Jack practically demanded an explanation. The two ghouls went to the sitting room and Hancock gave him a rundown of their conversation. When he was finished, the mayor waited for Jack to go all 'papa bear' and give him the 'dad speech.' Something along the lines of "stay away from my daughter, you rotten piece of junkie trash," or whatever—it's nothing Hancock hasn't heard before. But he didn't. The old soldier just sat there for a minute, silent, before muttering "probably for the best," and left for his room.
It made Hancock uneasy.
Fahrenheit had joined them halfway through. She, too, remained quiet even after Jack left, seemingly content with glaring daggers at him instead. Kind of like she was doing right now.
The armored woman stood next to her boss, a hand planted on her hip, the stare that could make the toughest raider piss his pants aimed directly at him.
It made Hancock tetchy.
"You got somethin' to say or are you gunna keep glaring a hole in the side of my head?" he growled lowly. Fahrenheit stared for a moment more then let out a scoff.
"You're a fucking idiot," she stated, her tone harsh.
The mayor clenched his jaw. "That so?"
He admitted the outcome wasn't what he intended, but he had good reason for saying what he said. Sunshine needed to understand that he wasn't good for her. That she was better off with someone else.
If Hancock was being honest with himself, there was nothing about her he didn't like. She was a killer shot, had a smart-ass mouth that could rival his own, and intelligent, way more intelligent than him. He'd seen her read manuals for fun, like she actually enjoyed it. Not that he wasn't smart, but Sam was a different level of smart. Give him a couple of caps and he could turn them into a couple hundred by the end of the day, but give him a textbook on fusion engines and it might as well be written in Chinese.
Anyone should be so lucky to earn her affections, but it wasn't about what he wanted.
"The one person in the whole damn Commonwealth that might actually prefer ghouls," Fahr started, casting a hand in Sam's direction. "And you turn her down because she's not some strung-out junkie wh—"
"That's not what I said!" he snarled.
"Doesn't matter what you said, that's what she heard." The armored woman sighed, leaning her shoulder against the brick. "She's not stupid, Hancock. Maybe she didn't get it right, but she knew you were bullshitting her."
The ghoul could still see it in his mind, Sam glowering up at him with those blue-grey eyes shining wetly, like a hurricane rolling over the ocean. It wasn't the anger in them that made him wince, it was the hurt, as if he betrayed her somehow.
"You need to set her straight."
It was Hancock's turn to scoff. "What d'you think I've been tryin' to do all fuckin' day?" he grumbled, his fingers digging into his arms.
For the better part of the day, the mayor had attempted to catch the little tinkerer alone so they could continue their conversation, so he could explain. But Sammy cleverly evaded him at every turn, slinking away like a molerat on Jet. He didn't recall her being that sneaky, or so quick.
At one point, Hancock was sure he had her cornered in Daisy's shop, having seen her dart up the stairs just as he was coming around the corner. Bad move, he'd thought; there was no way out from the second floor. He followed her up, casual and confident like, only to find the floor empty. A scraping noise had drawn his attention towards the sheet covering a section of wall and he flung it aside to reveal a gaping hole in the crumbling brick. The ghoul had leaned over the edge and there was Sam, standing in the alleyway below. She'd scaled down the wall, just to get away from him.
"You keep runnin', sunshine," he had called. "But we're gunna have words, sooner or later." She gazed up at him, that 'wounded puppy' look tinged with anger tugging on his heartstrings. "Looks like it's gunna be later," she mocked back, stalking down the alley.
Hancock couldn't help but smirk. Seems sunshine's got a bit of a backbone, he'd thought. The mayor had to admit he was impressed, even a little proud, how she managed to dodge him. But as the day went on he found himself more irritated than anything.
"This is Sam we're talking about. Sam," Fahrenheit stressed next to him. "You really just going to let her walk out that door thinking you're that much of an asshole?"
The last thing Hancock wanted was to hurt her, but maybe it was better this way. Maybe Sam will move on now and find someone who could give her more than he could. Someone who wouldn't run away when shit got too serious.
"Jack's right, it's for the best," he murmured, his tone empty. "She deserves better than me, Fahr. I'll just…ruin her."
Hancock peered from beneath the brim of his tricorn as Daisy joined the group at the door, pulling Sammy into a hug. The girl hugged her back tightly, a small smile playing on her face. When they stepped back, Daisy wrapped a hand in Jack's shirt, tugging him down for a quick kiss. Sam's smile morphed into a full-on grin, her peal of laughter echoing around the courtyard at the old soldier's expense.
"So that's it?" Fahr asked. "You kill her attraction to you so she stays away?"
The mayor gazed at sunshine's cheerful expression. "If that's what it takes."
Sam looked in his direction and their eyes met, the cheerfulness fading away. A strained smile flashed across her face and she raised a hand to give them a short wave before following Jack to the town's gate. Hancock's shoulders tensed then dropped in disappointment. Looks like the days of good-bye hugs are long over, he thought sullenly.
"What if it works too well?" Fahrenheit mused quietly, returning Sam's wave with a wiggle of her pinky. "She's got a stubborn streak, in case you haven't noticed, something she picked up from her old man."
The ghoul gave his righthand woman a sideways glance and she leaned close.
"What if she decides it's best to stay away from Goodneighbor?" she continued. "What if Sam doesn't come back?"
Hancock's mind blanked, his heart skipping a beat. He never thought of that.
The group of four were filing out the door and he gave a start, anxiety tightening his chest as Sam disappeared from view. There was a second where he thought about going after them but decided against it. Sunshine would come back. She wouldn't abandon Jack or Daisy or any other resident she considered family. She might never talk to him again, but she'd still come back.
"If there was ever a time to stop running…" Fahr taunted.
"Watch it," Hancock snapped, his eyes blazing at the woman.
The town door closed with a piercing creak and Fahrenheit let out an exasperated sigh. She moved around the mayor and climbed the few steps towards the State House entrance.
"Maybe you'll ruin her, maybe you won't," she muttered lowly, her hand pausing on the doorhandle. "But it's going to happen, John. Someone's going to get to her, eventually. Can you really trust that someone to treat her right, whoever they are?"
Hancock growled under his breath, all the possibilities running through his head. He thought of the raiders Sammy said she ran into and what would have happened if she didn't get away. He thought of the bruises on her arm and why Finn would have grabbed her like that. It made him glad he already killed the thug.
Fahr yanked the door open, turning to glare at her boss one more time.
"I don't know if she deserves better, but I do know she could do a helluva lot worse," she scowled. "She won't stay your sweet little sunshine forever, so what are you really saving her from?"
With that, the woman strode into the State House, letting the door close behind her.
Hancock stared after her for a moment before leaning his head back against the brick with a groan. Maybe Fahr was right. Maybe pushing Sam away like that was a mistake—it wouldn't be the first time he screwed something up.
Or maybe, he thought, I just need a damn smoke.
Retrieving the pack from his coat's inside pocket, he smacked the bottom against his palm and lipped the protruding cig out. Lighting up, Hancock took a long drag, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the brief rush. There wasn't anything he could do about sunshine right now, he would just have to wait for her to come back.
The mayor's eyes snapped open. And when she comes back, they were going to have a nice long chat.
~0~
I tied the boat to the floating dock with a sigh, the water lapping at the walls of the dam looking like tar through my night vision goggles. I was exhausted, having spent all day running around Goodneighbor trying to avoid a certain ghoul.
Hancock was persistent, I'll give him that. It was a good thing I knew the town like the back of my hand. He had almost caught me a few times but I think he gave up towards the end.
Good, I thought. It was better this way.
Standing from my crouch, I readjusted my pack and shuffled to the lift. The metal basket groaned slightly with my weight and I punched the switch to take me up. Gripping the railing, the motor kicked on with a whirring hum and started the ascent.
Despite my best efforts, I couldn't stop replaying last night over and over in my head. Hancock could have just said he wasn't interested, that I wasn't his type or it would be weird because he's known me since I was a child, or something. Yeah, it would still hurt to hear, but it's what I expected him to say. Instead, he tried to turn it around on me, like I was the one who was wrong for wanting him. That made it worse.
Was it really because I wasn't a ghoul or was it more because I didn't use chems? Jules wasn't a ghoul, so it must be the chems…but she wasn't the only one Hancock had been with. Maybe it was a bit of both. Or maybe it was just me he didn't like.
I still didn't get it. Was there something Jules had that I didn't, besides a love of chems? Was there something I was missing that made me not enough?
The lift jerked to a stop at the top of the dam and I rubbed at my chest, my heart aching. It didn't really matter; I already had his answer, and that answer was a big, fat no.
Heaving another sigh, I plodded off the lift and down the couple of steps to the concrete walkway, making my way to the entrance. I was more than ready for my bed and already planning to tell Holliday not to wake me before nine. It would be better to get back to my normal routine—keep busy so I have less time to feel sorry for myself—and definitely not mope around for the next few days, but I just wasn't feeling it. I had two weeks before I was expected in Goodneighbor with more supplies. Maybe I could come up with some excuse to push it back another—
The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention, sending a chill down my spine. I froze on the spot, my eyes darting around.
Something was off.
I quietly shrugged off my pack, holding it by one strap as I scanned the area. The door to the dam's front office was only about five feet away. It didn't look like it had been tampered with, as far as I could tell, and I already removed any crates or containers from the walkway—less reason for scavengers to come poking around—so nothing was out of place. There was a cabin cruiser boat and some debris that had drifted from upriver, knocking gently against the side of the spillway, but other than that it was silent.
Nothing seemed wrong, but…
I took a step back, my heart pounding. No, something definitely didn't feel right. I should go to Oberland Station, use their radio to call Holliday, make sure he was—
A figure came around the corner of the office with their hands out, showing them empty. His body was illustrated in varying shades of green through my goggles, but I recognized him almost immediately. That tall stature and broad, muscular build—he was the same size as Jack.
"Just take it easy," Red said calmly, taking a slow step towards me. "I only want to—"
I whipped my pack around, hurling it at the raider. He instinctually caught it, the weight of the bag forcing an "oomph" sound from him as it hit him in the stomach. I used the momentum from the throw to turn my body and sprinted away.
There was movement from the corner of my eye and another figure jumped the concrete parapet. He must have been hiding in that boat.
"Gotcha," Cal declared as he snagged the back of my hoodie.
His hold was sloppy and before he could grab my arms I threw my elbow back, driving it into his face with a crunch of cartilage.
"Fuck!" he howled, releasing my sweatshirt in favor of holding his nose.
Time slowed as my mind raced. I couldn't run the length of the dam; it was too long and Red would catch up to me. I could feel him coming closer already. Maybe if the other one hadn't slowed me down, but not now. I could draw my gun… but there was nothing to hide behind, no cover. It would be a straightforward shootout, like one of those old westerns. And there were two of them. I might be able to get one, maybe even both, but the chances of coming out of it alive… not good.
They were raiders, and raiders don't ask—they take. Whatever they wanted I probably wasn't going to like. I needed to get away, fast.
There was only one way to go.
I pivoted sharply, dashing towards the opposite side of the spillway. The water level on the upriver side was high, only a foot or so from the top of the parapet. But on the downriver side—the side where my boat was moored—the water was low. Four, maybe five stories from the top. It was a long ways down, but not so far the fall would kill me.
Leaping to the top of the barrier, my hands scraped against the rough surface and I pushed myself forwards. I took one step, the toe of my boot poised off the edge. Adrenaline surged through my veins, the water below like a pit of blackness before me.
Am I really doing this? the thought flashed in my mind. There was shouting behind me, a frantic scuttering of footsteps. He was close, too close. If that raider got his hands on me…
Yes. Yes I am.
I launched off the edge and was airborne. My heart lodged in my throat, my stomach dropping to my feet, and for a split second my body was weightless—
The strap to my rifle pulled tight across my chest and I was yanked out of the air. Red threw me away from the edge and my back slammed against the concrete walkway, knocking the wind from me. The rifle's strap broke from the tension, causing Mark to skitter away across the floor.
Red lunged at me and I kicked on reflex, all that training coming to the forefront. The heel of my boot hit the raider square in the solar plexus—or it would have if he didn't block with his forearm. He grunted as the force of the kick pushed him back and I scrambled to my hands and knees, desperate to get my feet under me. If he pinned me, it was over.
I didn't get far, Red grabbing the bottom leg of my jeans and dragging me back with a yelp. He was on one knee, his upper body bent forward, ready to pounce. I turned to my side, my abdomen contracting as I kicked out with my free leg towards his face. The raider blocked again, palming the sole of my boot in his large hand. Now he had both of my legs.
Oh God, I thought, my face paling in fear. He fights like Jack, too.
The desperation flipped to panic and I tucked my arms in and rolled my body, trying to force him to let go. A normal, untrained person would fight against the motion, which would inevitably break their hold. But Red wasn't untrained. Without hesitation, he rolled with me, as if he'd anticipated it.
I quickly changed directions, rolling back the other way. My boot slipped his grip and I stopped on my stomach, pushing my body up on my hands. I needed to get off the ground. If I could get to my knees—
His hand slammed into the middle of my back, forcing me down. I swung my elbow behind me with a screech, twisting as far as possible, and made contact with his ribs. The raider's breath burst out in a groan of pain but he didn't move. I realized my mistake as his fingers wrapped around my wrist.
He took the hit on purpose so he could grab me.
My arm was pulled behind my back, my opposite shoulder pressed to the ground by a heavy hand. As a last-ditch effort, I hiked a knee up, trying to get some leverage, but his shins came down on the backs of my thighs, putting his full weight on me. I struggled, looking for any bit of leeway, but there was none; he was too strong.
I was pinned.
I squeezed my eyes shut, my breath coming out in ragged pants. The fear wanted me to scream and cry but I swallowed it back down. It wouldn't do any good.
"Holy shit, kid," Red puffed above me, his breathing almost as heavy as mine. "I can't believe you jumped. You've got some massive fuckin' balls, that's for sure."
"Fuckin' bitch broke my nose!" Cal raged, blood dripping down his chin as he held his nose. He took a threatening step towards us and I tensed.
"Back off, L.T." Red warned, but the angry raider kept coming. "I said back off!"
Cal stopped with a frustrated growl then turned away, yelling another curse. The side of my face was pressed to the ground as I watched him stomp to the concrete parapet and slide down the half-wall to sit.
"Mean swing, too." Red groaned again, shifting his weight. "You hit like a damn man. Think you cracked a rib."
"Get off me," I demanded, but my voice came out like a whimper. It sounded weak and I hated it. I held on to the anger—it was better than being afraid.
"It's alright," The raider's grip loosened slightly, his tone softening. "Let's just calm—"
"Get the fuck off me!" I roared, giving my arm a jerk. Yeah, that sounded better.
"I will if you calm down," he said, his grasp tightening again. "Like I said, I just want to talk."
"Got nothing to say to raiders," I bit out.
"We're not raiders," Cal grated, his voice nasally like he had a cold. "We're Gunners."
The fear flooded back, a cold sweat chilling me. Oh no. No, this was much worse.
The Gunners were a mercenary group that had the ruthlessness of raiders but were better armed and better trained. Both Jack and MacCready had history with them, although Jack never talked about it. But Mac had joined them because he was conscripted, which was just another word for involuntary recruitment. If the Gunners found someone with skills they wanted, they were basically abducted and forced to join.
A tremor shot through my body and I thrashed, wrenching my arm and twisting any way I could. Red cursed and planted his forearm across my shoulders, trying to keep me still.
"No!" I cried, straining against him. "I will not be conscripted!"
"Ex-Gunners, ex-Gunners!" he barked. "Fuck's sake, kid, we're not going to conscript you."
"We're not?" Cal taunted, sending me a malicious smirk.
"Cal!"
I gave up, my muscles screaming at me. It probably wasn't a good idea to struggle like that, it's not like I could have gotten away. My chest was tight and I coughed into the ground. Red removed his arm, taking the weight off me and placing his hand by my head.
"Look, I'm not here to hurt you," he stressed. "I seriously just want to talk. All I'm asking is that you listen to my offer, nothing more."
"Offer?" I repeated, the word squeezing out.
"That's right."
I cleared my throat, trying to decide if I believed him or not. "And what if I don't like your offer?"
"Then we'll leave and never bother you again," Red answered. "I swear it."
"You swear it," I mocked back with a scoff. There was no way I was just going to trust him at his word.
"Alright," he said, giving a short chuckle. "let's start with something small. You promise to listen and I'll let you up. Deal?"
He was going to let me go with nothing but a promise? Well, it was better than being pinned; I couldn't do anything stuck on the ground.
"Fine," I agreed, my jaw clenching.
Red moved slowly, his weight on my thighs lifting and I stifled a groan as the blood rushed back into my legs. He waited a moment then pushed off, leaving me free from his grasp.
I rolled over to see him kneeling in front of me, sitting back on his heels. Not willing to take my eyes off him, I scuttled away like a crab until my back hit the opposite parapet. In one motion, Meg was out of its holster and aimed directly at Red in a two-handed grip.
"Shit!" Cal cursed, making to move, but Red put his hands out with a grimace.
"Cal, don't," he warned, his gaze locked on the gun.
The safety was still engaged and my finger hovered over it. Being pinned like I was, the ex-Gunner had every opportunity to seriously hurt me and there was nothing I could have done to stop him. But he let me go instead. Maybe he really was telling the truth. Afterall, Jack and MacCready were also ex-Gunners, so…
"Just take it easy, now," Red murmured softly and I glared through my goggles.
"You want me to listen?" I huffed, letting my finger rest just above the safety. "Then start talking."
He looked between my face and the gun, realizing I wasn't going to put it down.
"Alright, kid," he said with a nod. "That's fair."
"What?!" Cal snarled, showing his empty hands. "How the fuck is that fair, commander?"
Red let out a growling sigh, his head turning slightly to scowl at his companion. "I don't know, L.T., it's not like we ambushed her, or anything."
"She broke my nose!"
"Hey!" I shouted, interrupting their bickering. "I'm, like, 110% done with today. So, can you just spit it out so I can go to bed?"
I'd been exhausted before, now I was dead tired. My entire body ached and I just wanted to sleep. Red looked me over once more then smirked.
"I want you to help us take out the Gunners," he stated.
My mouth popped open as I stared at him, the gun in my hands dropping an inch. I waited for him to laugh or say "just kidding" but he didn't.
"You're serious?" I gawked.
Red's smirk deepened. "Dead serious."
"You want to start a war with the Gunners?" At his nod I snorted. "That's crazy."
"Crazier than jumping off the dam?" he asked with a brow raised.
"Way crazier."
"Come on," he said, his hands still raised. "You can't argue that less Gunners in the Commonwealth wouldn't be a good thing."
I frowned. "No, but you're Gunners."
"Ex-Gunners," Cal corrected. "We left for a reason."
"I left for a reason," Red retorted with an eyeroll. "You all just followed me because you had nothing better to do."
"Okay, wait," I said, my head starting to hurt. "So, why are you asking for my help?"
The two men stared at me with matching expressions of disbelief.
"You're joking, right?" Cal deadpanned.
"You took out a deathclaw with one bullet, straight through the eye," Red said, inclining his head. "Thanks for that, by the way."
Meg lowered another inch. "It was a lucky shot."
"Lucky? Stepping on a frag mine that happens to be a dud—that's luck." Red's gaze was determined, an eager shine to his eyes. "What you got is some serious sniper skills, and I want them. I want you on my team."
He… wants me?
The strength left my arms and the gun lowered between my knees, the barrel hitting the concrete with a soft clink. I had spent the whole day running from someone I've had a crush on for two years. Someone who I've known since I was ten. Someone who wasn't interested. I felt… I don't know how else to describe it except vulnerable. Now, this ex-Gunner, who saw me for a split second, decides to track me down and declares he wants me on his team.
I pulled my goggles down, pinching the bridge of my nose. An odd feeling was filling my chest and I didn't like it.
"Your team?" I asked, blinking my eyes open.
The night vision goggles were great, but they didn't pick up the finer details. The sky was clear and the nearly full moon shone brightly overhead. I couldn't tell what color Red's hair was but it was dark, like his eyes. He had a long scar that went over his right brow all the way to his jaw.
Red put his arms down, his hands coming to rest on his thighs as he gave me a grin.
"Five of us, including myself. A team works as a unit, each member contributing their own skill sets. Working together makes us stronger than if we were on our own." He paused, leaning forward. "We're going to start with the waystations. If we plan it right we can take them out one by one without blowing our cover. With an ace sniper on our team, they won't even know what hit 'em."
Stronger.
My hand clenched around Meg's grip and I forced myself to think. His words were starting to sound real appealing but I wasn't going to fall for it.
It was a risk, trying to take on the Gunners, and if they found out who was attacking them, well… they had the resources and contacts to hunt you down, wherever you went. I couldn't afford that. I had obligations to Goodneighbor; I couldn't just run off with a bunch of ex-Gunners who were looking to stir up trouble.
"Why would I agree to help you?" I frowned.
Red blew out a sigh, turning his head to stare off into the distance.
"You scavenge, right? Deliver supplies to…" He looked back, his dark eyes studying me. "Goodneighbor?"
My frown morphed into a glare and I stiffened. How the hell did he know that?
"Waystations are usually stocked with weapons, ammo, gear," he continued, flashing me an amused smirk. "You help us take one out, you can have first pick, anything you want."
Anything, huh? The glare softened and my body relaxed in thought. Well, that might actually be worth it. Gunners always had the best gear, especially weapons. Sometimes, they even had running vehicles. It took a lot of effort to get an automobile working like they used to—much more involved than simply hauling out the motor and converting it into a generator.
Even the possibility of having access to those kinds of goodies was enough to make any scaver drool. And he was going to give me first choice, just like that?
"That's it?" I asked, still skeptical.
Red frowned, rubbing a hand over his scar. "Well, if you want something else—"
"That's not what—" I interrupted with a huff. "I meant, what's the catch?"
"No catch," the ex-Gunner said, his gaze sincere. "If you hit a couple with us then decide you're done, you're free to go. No strings, no commitments, no conscription."
It sounded like a good deal. Really good, but… what was he actually proposing? He wanted me on his team, a sniper, so we could attack Gunner waystations. He wanted to take the Gunners out, which meant… he wanted me to kill.
I absently bit my lip. Yeah, I've killed before in self-defense, but I have never attacked someone, killed them, just to take what they had—that was something raiders did. The Gunners were just as bad as raiders, but still, could I really justify killing them for supplies?
"This is how it is, kill or be killed." My shoulders hunched, Mac's words resonating in my mind. "Sometimes, you have to take the first shot."
I lifted my gaze to Red's, unsure of what to do. Whatever he saw in my expression caused him to let out another sigh.
"Look, kid—"
"Would you stop calling me that," I snapped. I wasn't a kid, dammit. "It's Sam."
"Sam?" Cal snorted then groaned, holding a hand to his nose. "Isn't that a guy's name?"
"It would be, if I were a guy," I grumbled.
"Alright, Sam," Red said. "Tell you what, we still have some things to take care of before we're ready to make a move."
He stood with a grunt, placing a hand against his ribs. His steps were slow and steady as he walked towards me and I tensed again, the gun gripped tightly in my hand. He stopped a few feet from me and he looked even more like a giant with me still sitting on the ground.
"So, why don't you think about my offer and we'll talk about this later." Red held out a hand, a friendly smile stretching his face.
I squinted at him for a moment then holstered Meg, cautiously reaching for his offered hand. He tugged me up with another grunt, his large hand swallowing mine. I stepped away as soon as I was on my feet, still not completely trusting him.
"Eric Redman," he stated, introducing himself. "But you can just call me—"
"Red," I finished, crossing my arms over my chest. I glanced at the other man who was just getting up. "And Cal."
The bloodied ex-Gunner opened his mouth to say something but a loud bang echoed from behind me. The two men immediately had guns drawn and I whipped around to see Holliday burst onto the walkway from the office door.
"Fill your hands, you yellow-bellied bottom feeders!" his robotic drawl sounded as he rushed towards us with a blazing thruster.
"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" I screamed, running to stop the bot.
I met him halfway and caught the strut to one of his visual sensors, yanking on it to hold him back.
"When I'm done with you, you'll be eatin' corn on the cob through a picket fence!" the Handy model yelled, his saw blade waving in the air. I grabbed his sensor, pulling it to my face.
"Holliday, calm down! They're, uh…" I paused. Well, they weren't exactly friends. "They're fine."
Holliday's thruster powered down and he hovered beside me.
"They're fine," Cal jeered, tucking his handgun in the back of his pants. "What a fuckin' endorsement."
I had a moment to note how quickly they drew their guns. I didn't even see where they took them from.
"Shut pan you fiddle-headed ingrate," Holliday growled in his gruff southern voice. "We don't be usin' them words around a lady."
"What, endorsement?" Cal quipped with a smirk. Red breathed a chuckle, his gun already put away.
"I think that's our cue to go." He appraised me for a few seconds then nodded, as if he came to some conclusion. "Think about what I said, Sam. I really hope you decide to join us."
The two men turned and walked down the dam, Cal grumbling about something and Red giving him a smack on the shoulder. I watched them go until their outlines faded into the dark.
"New friends of yours, miss Sammy?" Holliday asked, his tone somewhat disapproving.
Red's offer was tempting and he did seem genuine, but… I didn't know. I didn't know if I could do what he was suggesting. He said he wanted me for my sniper skills. He wanted me. No one had ever said those exact words to me before.
I sighed, rubbing at my temples. I was too tired, too confused, too vulnerable. I couldn't deal with this right now.
"We'll see," I replied, running a hand through my hair.
I need sleep, I thought. Yeah, I just needed to go to bed and when I wake up in the morning, everything will make sense. I'll realize that Red is a 'bad guy' and I shouldn't listen to him and his charming words that definitely don't make my heart beat faster.
Yeah.
A/N: This chapter was a bit shorter than the last one, so I got it done a little faster. I'm not too worried about the lengths of the chapters; each one will have 2-3 scenes, so however long the scenes are that's how long the chapter will be.
Writing Holliday's dialogue is fun but takes time to research old western slang, and I'm not sure if I'm using them correctly. Holliday is supposed to be a unique robot from Greygarden with a personality based off the gunslingers from western movies. He is blue, since the G.G. robots are color-coded, but instead of calling him Mr. Blue I gave him the name Holliday from the character/historical figure Doc Holliday, because, you know, he's a mechanic and to robots a mechanic would be a doctor XD.