45 Miles Southwest of Decommissioned Watchpoint: Groom Lake, Nevada, Mojave Desert
2076
The Mojave Search Party had escaped the hostile base they had teleported into, leaving a mushroom cloud behind. Instead of trying to find the Courier, they were currently focused on putting as much distance between them and that facility as they could. Only stopping to take short periods of rest or to take cover from more aircraft they spotted in the sky, unsure if they belonged to the enemy. Eventually, they stopped worrying about the sky when they saw nothing but the Sun and a few rogue clouds. A long stretch of barren desert behind and before them, the base no longer in sight.
They kept trudging along on their armored boots and paws. The seasoned Wastelanders no stranger to traveling long distances in the Mojave, at walking speed or in slight jogs. Able to do it for hours on end in the blistering day or the frigid night. Their breaths, heartbeats, and footsteps kept in a regulated rhythm. Veronica running with the sun in her eyes and breathing alongside the others in her party. It almost felt like she was trudging through the Mojave again with Nathan. Only she was the one leading the pack.
However, even though she was in Power Armor and could practically run the breadth of the Nevada-California border, she still had the others to look after. Cooper and Boone weren't outfitted with top-of-the-line armor or Pre-War cybernetics, but they were able to take care of themselves. Veronica was more worried for the one in T-51b, as she noticed his movements were a bit more sluggish than earlier and a raspy pant sometimes escaped his helmet.
"Hey, Parmley, are you alright?" she looked over her shoulder. "You don't sound too well."
"Yeah, been walking in this suit of armor for hours, now," he sounded exhausted and close to passing out under the armor. "It's goddamn hot; I can feel my ass getting cooked! How can the Brotherhood stand being in these things all day?!"
"Umm, you have the internal air conditioning system on, right?"
"…The what?" Parmley asked, momentarily brought out from his exhaustion.
With a groan, the ex-Scribe walked over to him and kept his helmet still as she reached around to flip a switch. Parmley heard multiple fans and vents inside the suit come to life as cool air washed over his body. The sweat on his face becoming ice-cold as the air reached up to him. Moaning in delight as he felt his ass no longer getting cooked and sensed a fine breeze blasting it.
"Ooooooohhh… Why the hell don't rangers have this?" the young ranger let out.
"Don't want the Black Armor, anymore?" Boone smirked.
"If I ever live long enough to earn it, I'll wear it underneath this. Goddamn, I feel like taking a nap, now."
Veronica was amused by Parmley discovering the modern conveniences of Power Armor, but his exhaustion made her frown under her helmet when she looked at the horizon around them. The sun was getting close to setting in the west and it wouldn't be long before they would be forced to travel in darkness. Taking initiative for the rest of the group as she began to examine their surroundings and try to find a place for them to hold-up. Her eyes scanning everywhere, and hunkering low to the ground for anything. Trying to think of what Nathan would do in a scenario like this.
There didn't seem to be any populated areas nearby, or not even any unpopulated, abandoned areas, either. No rundown shacks or trailer parks for them to take shelter in.
Thankfully, between the base of a nearby mountain and a field of dirt, shrubs, and trees, there was a rather large rock that had a little alcove in its foundations. Large enough for all of them to hide under and hidden enough from this new world. Good enough for them to take a breather, maybe even hunker down for the night. Wasn't a complete hole in the ground but it was better than nothing.
"Okay, everyone, let's all take a well-needed breather in that little cave down there," she pointed a metal finger to the large rock. "And then we'll figure what the hell we need to do next. Sound good?"
"Anything to stay inside this armor… Oh, man!" Parmley happily agreed, bathing in the chill atmosphere of his armor.
"Just don't soil the suit too much. Those filtration systems can be a nightmare to clean."
With no protest from the rest of the group, they all descended the mountain and reached the boulder. Taking shelter in the little crevice it created, away from the sun and with enough room for them to stretch their legs. They set their packs and equipment down, some of their weapons, too. The dogs panted loudly and profusely but had the good fortune of finally resting their haunches as they laid down. Cooper letting out a yawn as he bowed low to the ground to stretch and plopping right down next to Rex. Parmley plopping right next to them, the large T-51b armor sitting up against the rock.
"Ahhhh…" the Ranger let out, no longer on the verge of passing out from exhaustion… Yet.
However, as they relaxed and rested on their laurels, Boone put down his pack but still held onto his rifle. Cranking the bolt to check if there was a round in the chamber.
"I'm going to scout ahead and see if there's anything out. Maybe get a sense of direction, too," the 1st Reconnaissance Sniper stated, already walking away from their site. "I'll come back if I need to."
"Be safe," Veronica wished, watching him leave the shade and go around the rock.
However, when he left, she frowned more and began to wonder where exactly they were. The terrain and the climate were on-par with the Mojave, and the fact that the people they were fighting spoke English only furthered the mystery. Hoping they weren't just teleported 100-miles and found another group of shut-ins with advanced tech. Yet, the tech wasn't like anything she's seen, and the words from the two they questioned made it sound like they were very far from home.
'Who the hell is Overwatch?' she thought, wondering the significance behind that name and how Nathan was connected to it. Certainly, no one she's ever heard of.
A bit desperate, she brought her head up to her helmet and began fiddling with the controls on the side. Her helmet's HUD becoming obscured as the internal computer's menu system filled her vision. Quickly switching to the "World Map" section of her armor's navigation systems and waiting for a map to show up and give her some directions. She was then deflated to see the words "Establishing Connection" with an ellipsis in her vision.
"Well, that's not good," the ex-Scribe commented, certain that wasn't supposed to happen.
Pacing around and waiting for the screen to change to at least give them something, she let out a frustrated groan after a few more moments of no-response. Then, the back of her Advanced Power Armor opened, letting her climb out. Taking off the jumpsuit hood and letting her black hair loose, a sweat-drenched rat's nest.
"You alright?" Parmley asked.
"I'll be fine," she wished, fixing her hair.
Without a map to give them directions and without any directions to find Nathan, she thought it might be best to set-up a campfire. Good thing, too, as the sun was beginning to set. The orange colored sky becoming bluer by the minute.
Taking initiative once more, Veronica stepped away from her Power Armor and retrieved a Broad Machete from the packs. Armed with her tools and her wit, she spent the next half-hour venturing out from the alcove and gathering any usable firewood she could find. Declining any help or assistance from Parmley when he offered, making sure not to stray too far and to be quick. Not lingering out of cover longer than needed. Taking any loose branches, pieces of dead wood, and even picking some shrubs for their dry leaves. Some of the plant life reminding her of the ones from the Mojave, especially the poor excuses for trees, but she didn't feel comfortable drawing conclusions. Nonetheless, she put some of the knowledge her Tribal friend taught her to good use. The dimming sun making the air bearable to walk in before it became frigid.
Thankfully, all was well when it had become dark and she was able to start a campfire in their shelter without the use of any lasers, this time. Lighting some balled up dry grass and setting it aflame under a pyramid of propped up wood. Having her face near the base as she gently blew air into the nascent fire, making it brighter with every breath. The small tinder becoming a proper flame. The smoke hitting the rocky roof before rising out into the sky. The nook under the boulder oddly feeling cozy with the fire.
"Nice one," Parmley complimented, still in T-51b as he watched her.
"Thanks. I've learned from the best," Veronica smiled.
"Speaking of the best… What's our plan, now?" the Ranger earnestly asked as he stood up and got out of the power armor, clambering down to join her at the campfire.
"Other than staying away from the people we just nuked and are most certainly out for our blood this instant…? I wish I knew."
The only thing Veronica could do at this point was to be honest with herself.
"There's also the fact that we're in a desert that's familiar and alien at the same time, but I'm at a complete loss of direction and where we even are. Good thing we got a caravan's worth of supplies and two power armor suits. Might increase our odds of survival from depressingly low to endearingly low. And that's if we know where Nathan is."
Parmley could see her face becoming sullen and blankly stare at the fire she made, the flame from it reflecting off her features.
"We can still try, but a map wouldn't be a bad start."
"You're not giving up now, are you?" he asked, obviously worried. "We only just got here."
"I know, it's just that…" the arguably smartest member of the group had difficulty trying to convey what she wanted. Her brain still feeling tired and fatigued from the teleport. "I'm not sure where to start. It's always been like that. For a good chunk of my life, even when I was still with the Brotherhood, I wasn't sure where I needed to be or wanted to go. Until… He showed up at the 188."
"Nathan?"
"Yeah. He helped give me a sense of direction. Hell, he was the one who tracked me down and convinced me to join the Followers, again."
"Tracked you down?"
"I… More or less became a hermit when I left the Brotherhood. It wasn't a very heartwarming 'farewell party', either. I then parted ways with Nathan when I thought it would be best for everyone if I just stayed by myself from then on… But you know how 'Courier Six' is. When he wants something, he gets it."
Although she frowned when she recounted those memories of her self-exile and the reasons for doing so, she smiled upon remembering what he did for her after. Especially since it was more than she had ever asked for or wanted.
"Wish I was more like him, to be honest," she admitted, her smile faltering, again. "If I was, I'm sure we would've found him yesterday."
Parmley sat on the other side of the fire, across from her. Listening to what she said. To how she fondly remembered Courier Six and what he did for a friend. The Ranger began thinking about the first time he 'met' the Courier, trying to think of what he remembered most about him. What they could learn for their mission.
"Well, if you're so focused on finding him, why not just ask around?" Parmley meekly asked.
Veronica's smile disappeared as she looked at him, her eyes seemingly free of fatigue, now.
"What?" she squinted.
"Now, hold on. Just hear me out!" he held his hands up. "When Nathan first came to the town I was working in, one of the first things I saw him do was just… Talk to people," he recounted, almost sounding like he was in disbelief. "And I don't mean important people like the sheriff or the mayor. He just went up and talked to anyone and everyone. The workers, the guards, and even the town hobo. He just talked to people. I don't know why, but it seemed to be what he did. Things got a lot better after he came. Afterwards, I would occasionally see him around Station Charlie near Novac and sometimes head inside and talk to the Rangers. I even spoke with him a couple of times when he did, still remembers me from Caruthers. Surprised he did."
The Ranger cracked a smile of his own when he recounted his memories of the Courier, though, not nearly as plentiful as hers.
"Now, I ain't saying we should go off and starting ringin' everyone's ears out looking for him," he advised. "Just a… Consideration is what you might say."
"I guess we can if we ever find anyone. I remember that about him, too," she replied, hugging her legs to her chest. "So, what drives you? Just wanting to repay him?"
"That, and Ranger loyalty, I guess. Rangers always counted on him."
Veronica and Parmley smiled at each other, before directing their gazes to the campfire they shared. The night had grown to be not too terribly cold and there was enough space for all of them to share the warmth. They wanted to relish in the heat of the fire for a little longer until one of their stomachs groaned.
"Oops, excuse me," Veronica brought a hand over her stomach before standing up. "Good thing we packed food. Didn't need to learn that essential tip from him."
She went over to the bags to grab herself a Caravan Lunch but paused for a moment when she heard movement to their right and saw Boone walk into the light of the fire. In the dim light, she saw an expression on his face that told her there was something wrong.
"Guys, you need to come see this," the Sniper urged.
"What?"
"There's a car not too far from here. People, too."
"Trouble?!"
"No. I don't think, so, at least. But you need to see this for yourself, come on!"
Boone turned on his heels and ran back into the open, gesturing for Parmley and Veronica to follow. They apprehensively exchanged glances for a moment and followed him.
Boone brought them around 50 or so yards out from their shelter and took cover behind some rocks. Directing them to the Southwest, they spotted with their own eyes what appeared to be lights in the distance. At around more than a half-a-mile from where they were. There were a set of big lights that belonged to a car, but there were several other lights that seemed to belong to smaller vehicles.
"Here," Boone handed Veronica a pair of binoculars, resting his rifle against the rock.
She took it, and once she got more comfortable, put her face up to the eyepieces. Through the binoculars, she could more clearly see the car – specifically a pickup truck – with its headlights on a dark road. The more she peered through the darkness, she eventually spotted the other sources of light around the truck; There were three "motorcycles" that were parked around the truck, but like the cars they encountered, these bikes were absent of wheels and floated. However, she saw four men standing outside of the truck. Three of them wore cowboy hats, but the fourth wore what looked like a jumpsuit, the types mechanics would wear. The man in the jumpsuit stayed close to the driver's side door and acting as if trying to protect something inside. What also stuck out to her was that the men in hats – who she assumed owned the bikes – had guns. One of them carrying what seemed to be a rifle.
Even in the dark, she could tell the bikers meant trouble. Seeing how uncomfortably close they got to the man, who proceeded to cover more of the driver's side door. Then, Veronica gasped when she saw a set of small arms reach from the driver's side window and grab the man. Now seeing there was a child in the truck with him.
"Boone, we have to help them!" she said to him, almost yelling.
"Hmm…" the Sniper peered through his scope, examining the situation. "I can take them out at this range, but it might be a bit risky with them nearby. They might hurt them if I open fire, too. Gotta be careful with this."
"Wait, just hold on a second, we don't even know who those guys are!" Parmley interjected. "We could be walking into something without the full picture. We can't just start shooting people."
"You're… Right," Veronica agreed. "We shouldn't get too ahead of ourselves, but we can't leave 'em."
"You guys have any ideas, then?" Boone asked, his sights still trained on the truck.
Veronica addressed Parmley for a moment, looking back at the truck and seeing the man and child being harassed. The longer they idly sat there and watched, the more likely something bad was going to happen. She began thinking of what Nathan might do to mend this scenario. To prevent as many casualties as possible. She could try being a diplomat and talk to them, but diplomats usually don't appear out of nowhere on the desert roadside. She might need to be a bit assertive with this lot if they didn't want to automatically resort to killing them. Decisions need to be made.
"How many Stealth Boys do we have?" she asked, a plan quickly forming in her head.
Veronica sneaked her way across the stretch of desert between them and the road where the truck was. Crouching low to the ground and moving slow enough to not kick up dirt or make too much noise. Her eyes wary of her surroundings, but keeping them largely focused on the road ahead, where all the people were.
As she inched closer and closer to the road, she could make out more details. Able to see the color of the bikes, the clothing that they wore, and the weapons they were brandishing. However, one detail she noticed about the truck was how it didn't float like the bikes surrounding it. It had wheels, instantly more recognizable to her.
As she got closer, she could hear them more clearly, too. Hearing that they were speaking in English, as well. The bikers in hats speaking with a drawl not too different from some Mojave locals back home. Veronica tried to not get distracted, again. There will be time to ponder the coincidences later. Trying to discern what they were saying as she got closer to them.
"Listen, old man," the one standing closest to the driver spoke, carrying an air of authority with him as he stood tall and with his thumbs in his pockets. Wearing a dark leather jacket with dark jeans, a belt-bandolier around his hip. On the back of the jacket, she could faintly see an emblem consisting of a skull with wings, and chains and a padlock where the lower jaw should be. The words "Deadlock Rebels" situated above and below the skull. The other two bikers' outfits like his.
"We always ask nicely," he went on, taking a couple steps toward him. "We do, but every time we pull you over and ask that you pay the toll, you raise hell. It doesn't have to be that way every time, but you insist on raising hell every. Single. Damn. Time! Hell, we gotta start gettin' rough with you to drive the point home. Just pay the toll, and we'll send you on your way."
"Toll? For what?" the old man spat out with disdain, his face becoming more wrinkled as he narrowed his eyes at them. Not standing down in the slightest. "Filling in the potholes? You fucks ain't from county. I've paid my taxes. Fuck off."
"Old man, no one around here uses these roads anymore except you and your old beater."
"She's worth more than you'll ever make!"
"Don't you think your grandson would have more fun riding in a-"
"Don't you say shit about him!"
The old man sneered and blocked more of the window with his body, obscuring their view of the child from the driver's side. Veronica nearly stopping from the sudden outburst, but she pressed on. When she got in range of the lights, she brought her hand to her wrist and activated the Stealth Boy strapped to it. Becoming shrouded in a field of stealth radiation.
'I hope Craig's got me covered,' she silently hoped, as she now got close to the concrete of this old road. Now inching further at a snail's pace to not alert any of them.
"Old man…" the tall one said lowly, aggravated.
"What is it with young dipshits like you who can't leave people alone, especially in bumfuck places like this? Do you really think you'll ever get anything worthwhile here? Do you guys not have anything better to do with your time? Not too busy riding those poor excuses for motorcycles around the desert? You're only impressing the rocks. Still have to wear jeans even if those things don't have exhaust pipes. Fucking pussies."
The rant made Veronica more worried as she saw the bikers get more visibly agitated. Certain that she would have to spring to action soon if the old man's temper only got worse.
"We're the only people who give a damn about this place, anymore. We bring our money and our business," the lead biker defended themselves.
"Yeah, cause you bleed us dry. Bringing in your shady business we want no part of."
"Without that, you're town ain't worth dogshit. Barely even on the holomaps, anymore. Ain't nothing to die over-"
He recoiled and nearly lost his hat when the old man threw out a jab and hit him directly in the face. The other two instantly getting their guns up as they walked around the truck and got closer to the old man. Veronica witnessed the whole thing and knew she had to think fast. Thankfully, she spotted the biker coming around the front of the trunk who had his back turned to her. Quietly springing to her feet.
Meanwhile, the one who got punched looked at the old man with fury in his eyes and reached for his belt.
"You son of a-!"
"Hey!"
He spun around, hand around the grip of his still-holstered gun and saw a woman literally appear out of thin air. Holding one of his men hostage under an iron grip as she wielded a super-heated pneumatic gauntlet in the other. The hydraulic jack pointed at his head.
"What the fuck? Where the hell did you come from?!" he exclaimed.
"Keep that gun holstered and I won't turn your friend's brains into mush!" Veronica threatened, tightening her grip on the man. 'So much for diplomacy…' she lamented to herself.
"I don't know who the hell you are, but you got some nerve pulling off what you're doing now!"
"Not like there was a welcome mat laid out for me… Look! If you just leave the old man and the kid alone and get out of here, you and your buddies can go back home on your bikes in one piece."
"Like hell, we'd do that! Do you know who you're fucking with?! I might as well send one between your eyes!"
Veronica wasn't threatened in the slightest, but the man she held hostage grimaced in fear.
"No, no, no, please don't!" he garbled out, feeling his throat get constricted. "You're a bad shot and this – urgh ! – B-bitch is fuckin' strong!"
"Thank you!" Veronica smiled at him for a second. "We really don't want to kill you. Especially in front of them. Please, everyone can go away with their skins still on their backs after this."
"Worried about them, huh?" the lead snarled, stepping back as he fiddled with his holster. "Your loss!"
He pulled the long barrel of an ornate revolver out of his holster and swung it to point at them. But before he could even pull back the hammer, there was a crack in the distance and the revolver was shot out of his hand. The man yelping and clutching his hand. The last biker with a gun panicking and looking around, unsure where that shot even came from.
"The fuck are you doing?!" his wounded comrade yelled. "Shoot them!"
His friend about to do as he was told but was distracted by the sound of approaching footsteps and looked to see two creatures emerging from the desert and gaining for him. He lifted his rifle to take a shot at them but one of them barked a soundwave at him and knocked him to the ground. Then, Cooper ran over and sank his teeth into his arm, thrashing him around and making him scream. Rex providing back-up and growling at the man, guarding over the rifle he dropped.
Their leader looked around, the smugness and confidence wiped away in only a matter of seconds. Spinning around and stopping to look at Veronica.
"How…?!"
"Can't say I didn't try to warn you," Veronica said. "You can still go if you want. Unless you want the hat to be blown off your head."
He sneered at her, clutching his bleeding hand as he looked around at the mess. Knowing there were unseen assailants that could literally shoot the guns out of his hands. The Deadlock rider took one more glance at the old man, who still stood by his truck and glared. Seemingly unfazed by what just transpired.
"Fuck this! You ain't worth the trouble, old man," he spat out, then regarding Veronica. "Fine, we'll leave. But this ain't the last you'll be hearing from me!"
"Can't say I never heard that before," the companion rolled her eyes and let go of the biker, kicking him towards his friends. "Thanks for cooperating!"
The gang members all grumbled and stumbled to their bikes, some of them having a more difficult time operating them due to the injuries they sustained. Getting back on and starting them up, they all spun them around to the north, in the opposite direction the truck was facing. As the undersides of their motorcycles began to glow blue, the leader looked over his shoulder and threw his middle-finger up at them. Another crack from the desert, a bullet whizzed by his head and took the hat off, making him recoil in shock before twisting the throttle and speeding off into the road. His friends followed, and they watched their lights become fainter and fainter until the road became dark, again. The old man and child safe, now.
"Glad that's done with," Veronica expressed relief, walking over to the old man. "Sorry, about that. We just- Woah!"
She jumped back and held her hands up as the old man she rescued was now pointing a black handgun at her from nowhere. Rex and Cooper immediately rushed to Veronica's aide, but she called out to calm them down. Anxiously glancing between the pistol and the old man's glaring eyes.
"C-calm down, old timer. We just wanted to help. That's all!"
"Who's this 'we'? Who the fuck are you?!" the old man with a gun interrogated.
"Someone who just helped you get out of a sticky situation! A little 'thank you' would've sufficed."
"I could've handled that situation just fine, on my own."
However, as they "conversed", they heard a car door open and close on the other side of the truck. Then, kicking up dust, the child in the cabin ran around the front of the car to where they were. Veronica glancing at him, seeing him wear a pair of overalls over a t-shirt. He had ashy brown air and freckles over his slightly-tanned face. Couldn't have been older than ten.
"Joseph, get back inside!" the old man commanded.
"Grandpa, she saved us!" the boy exclaimed, in a voice that sounded more Californian than Mojave.
"Just get back inside, I'll deal with this."
"Jennette said we should always be thankful to those who help us. You're not being very thankful!"
"Joseph, she's a stranger who literally appeared out of thin air."
"She still helped us! And her friends, too. How do you know they're going to hurt us when they saved us?"
The Grandpa shifted his eyes to his grandson, then back at Veronica with the sights of his pistol still trained on her. Never relinquishing that suspicious glare.
"Why the hell are you out in the middle of nowhere, in the desert?" he questioned, his gun steady.
"We're… Lost, to put it bluntly. Embarrassing, I know," she truthfully answered. "We're also looking for something. Er, someone. We could use some help pointing us in the right direction. And we helped you so… I guess that means you owe us?"
Veronica meekly smiled after she said that last bit, trying to come off as friendly with her hands up.
"How'd you turn invisible? Are you with Overwatch?" the kid then asked.
"Joseph!" the old man was quick to shut that down. "So, you just want some help, huh? Need someone to point you in the direction of your friend?"
"That's… Really all we want," she earnestly answered, slowly lowering her hands after she shrugged. "Willing to help if you need more convincing."
The old man narrowed his eyes at her, that pistol rock solid in his wrinkled hands. A low, raspy hum echoed from his throat as he thought about what just happened in the past couple of minutes. Who this woman and her dogs were. If she and her friends wanted to take him out, they probably would've done so after they took care of the bikers. He looked at his grandson who looked back at him.
"If all you want is just help, fine," the old man relented, lowering his handgun shoving it into a back pouch. "But not here. Not in the dark. Back home is a better place to chat… How many are there of you?"
"Five. The other two are out there," the ex-Scribe answered, looking to the side of the road waving her arm to beckon them over.
For a while, after she did that, nothing really seemed to happen. The old man and his grandson just looking out into the dark. However, they began to see the faint outlines of two men walking up to the road. One of them larger and more imposing than they expected, his footsteps thumping against the dirt. The old man's eyes widened a little in surprise as he reached over and guided Joseph behind him, but the boy was just in awe at the sight of T-51b that lumbered up to them. The Tesla Coils glowing in the night. The two barely noticing the man in the red beret next to him.
"Howdy, sir," Parmley greeted them, before addressing Veronica. "You alright?"
"Better, now that we have some help," she smiled.
"You guys are Overwatch-!"
"Joseph!"
All of them present, the old man inspected each of them. His scowl never breaking or weakening. Scrutinizing and inspecting them; their clothes, their weapons, their faces, their stance. Glancing towards the dogs and watching them sit there with their tongues out. His grandson petting the one that wasn't comprised mostly of metal. Silently making judgments but his eyes weren't subtle.
"The world could always use more freaks…" he muttered. "I can give all of you a ride back home if you ain't got any transportation yourselves. But that might take a while. Damn thing shorted out on me, again. The reason I was stranded out here in the first place."
"Engine troubles, huh? I could help out with that," Veronica offered.
"You know old cars?" he asked, sounding skeptical.
"I've tinkered with a lot of old car parts. Learned to salvage what's good and working. Make something useful with what I haul."
The Grandpa furrowed his brow at the younger woman, not sensing a fault in her demeanor as she told him that.
"She's a 2016 classic. So, don't break her," he requested. "I'll pop the hood for you."
"I got it!" his grandson was already ahead, opening the door and climbing into the driver's seat.
"Joseph!" he yelled, but the hood of the truck already popped up before he could do anything.
"Come on, grandpa, the sooner we get out here the better!"
Even his old age couldn't deny that, and it would've been more trouble getting him out of the seat that it was worth. Getting too old to deal with that.
"Fine, but don't touch anything else until I tell you. And don't mess with the wheel!" the Grandpa ordered, before gesturing for her to go.
Veronica gratefully smiled and walked over to the front of the truck. Lifting the hood up and looking at the engine for herself. Her imagination did run a bit wild about what the machine would look like under the hood. When the ex-Scribe checked, she saw machining and wiring that looked almost identical to the old combustion engines she scrapped. The ones without the fancy nuclear power in them.
"Hmm… I could make this work."
Meanwhile, the old man just stood by the driver's seat and watched Veronica get to work on his engine. Cautious, but amused that she seemed to be working on it with her bare hands. Frowning as he shook his head. Preparing to rest for a bit as he pulled out the slick black length of his electric cigar, flipping it on as he began sucking in the vapor. Expecting them to be here for a while.
"Got it!" he suddenly heard her say, making him look up and watch her close the hood and walk over to them. "You can try starting it up now."
The old man was too busy squinting at her to do anything, but his grandson took the initiative as the truck's engine began to sputter. After a few more turns, the old truck roared to life and began purring like an old cat - loud and guttural, but still alive. Veronica walking up to him with a proud smirk.
After that initial test, Joseph turned the engine off and hopped out with a big grin across his face.
"I've never seen someone do that so fast!" the young boy exclaimed.
"I aim to please," Veronica kept smirking.
The old man regarded her and his truck, expelling the cloud of vapor he held in his mouth.
"The three of you can ride in the backseat, but your weapons and armor go in the back," he said, turning around to the bed of his pickup. Moving his belongings and some junk around to clear up space. "Oh, and your dogs, too. I don't want the cyberhound to leak oil all over the leather."
The next few minutes were then spent gathering up all their belongings and loading them onto the back of the pickup, the two sets of armor and an inordinate amount of supplies making the old truck sink a good chunk. Still enough space for the two canines to hop in, Rex doing it with little hesitation while Cooper was a bit wary of climbing on. Able to do so after Veronica comforted him some more. After they loaded everything in, the old man threw a tarp over the armor and gear. Fastening it down with straps before he went to the driver's seat.
With everything squared away, the three human tourists were about to pile into the back seat, but before Veronica could get her foot in, Boone grabbed her shoulder.
"Veronica, can we trust this guy?" he quietly asked, glancing towards the old man getting into his seat. "He literally pointed a gun at you."
"He's being cautious. Can't blame him for that after what we witnessed. Besides, you got anywhere else to go?" she asked a question of her own, the two regarding each other until Boone let go. "Come on, let's at least give him a chance."
Afterward they all, somewhat awkwardly, climbed in and sat next to each other. Veronica and Parmley taking window seats while Boone was forced into the middle. The Waster all looking around at the car's interior. Feeling the leather they sat on and looking at the felt upholstery on the roof. The inside smelling of oil, metal, and pine. Things were tight, but they all managed while the old man and his grandson occupied the front seats. The driver looked back and frowned.
"Put your seatbelts on," he grumbled as he turned the keys in the ignition and made the truck rev to life, again.
However, the Wasters didn't have enough time to figure out the seatbelts before the old man hit the gas and began speeding away on the old road. The old truck still proving she was fast.
They never were in cars much given that most of them were rust buckets not worth the time to scrap, but there was something about riding in one through the desert that kept Veronica's eyes glued to the window, after adjusting to the sudden rise in speed. Even if it was dark out, not long into the trip she found herself staring outside and watching a hundred things drift by in a few seconds. Saddened that this used to be a common mode of transportation back home. Boone and Parmley, more "experienced" with cars given their NCR military status, could hardly consider those times joyrides. Never really given an opportunity to just look out the window in an airconditioned cabin. One so clean, too. In the bed, Rex was doing fine but Cooper was overwhelmed by all the new smells passing by.
Veronica looked up and was greeted by a sky full of stars, without any city lights to blot them out. They weren't a rarity back home, but even at this speed, the sky was fixed in place as the stars and moon seemingly followed them. However, she noticed something odd about the moon she was staring at…
Her train of thought was disturbed when the truck suddenly rocked and a loud thud could be heard as they passed over a barren stretch of road. All the Wastelanders shook by the sudden interruption. Cooper thrown around in the bed.
"Sorry," the old man unconvincingly apologized. "People barely use these roads other than damn highwaymen, so they barely maintain them. I ain't got grav-wheels, but suspensions doing its best."
"It's fine," Veronica responded, readjusting herself in her seat. "So… Where're we heading?"
"Home."
"Ah… So, is it going to take long to get there or…?"
"A couple hours. The route I usually take had these damn military checkpoints all over, for some reason. So, we're taking the long way around."
"Oh… I see. What are you doing all the way out here, then?"
The old man glanced into the rearview mirror to look at her before reverting attention to the road. When his answer took too long, his grandson spoke up for him.
"Me and my grandpa are hauling scrap we find," Joseph was more than elated to share, looking back at her from his seat. "We go to these old abandoned places out in the desert to find anything worth selling. Sometimes there's good money in it."
"A bit of prospecting, huh?"
"'Prospecting'? Eh, I guess. But instead of gold and silver, we get old junk no one wants anymore. But, sometimes the sheriff gets a bit mad at us for 'pilfering'. Army people, too."
"Air Force, Joseph," the old man corrected. "Sometimes the pricier things involve risk, but it's a livin'. Good enough for him and me."
Veronica nodded, looking out her window again and trying to spot out more in the distance. Nothing but the moon's light accompanying them on this old road. She spotted the outline of what seemed to be mountains in the distance, but she couldn't make out more than that.
"So, what's your name, old man?" she then asked, looking straight ahead, again.
He looked into his rearview mirror, for the second time.
"Clark," he answered. "But people call me 'Senior'. You don't have to ask why."
"I'm Veronica," the woman with the pneumatic gauntlet introduced herself. "That's Boone, that's Parmley, and Rex and Cooper in the back. Rex is the one with the brain dome."
"I'm Joseph!" the boy exclaimed, even though they already heard several times. "I like your brain-dog! Where are all of you from?"
'From out of this world,' is what she would've said if she had no inhibitions, but she had to settle for a subtler and more boring answer. "It's… A long story. We've been through a lot recently and thinking about it makes me tired. I can give you an answer when we get to your home."
"Why? Are you with Overwatch? That's why you have all that crazy and weird tech, right? Wait, are you on a mission?!"
Despite it probably being past his bedtime, the young boy began to launch a tirade of questions directed at the woman he just met. Making the cabin noisy when he spoke. Veronica was a bit overwhelmed and obviously couldn't answer truthfully.
"Joseph!" Senior quickly spoke up, saving her from an assault of questions. "Don't pester her. We still got a long way to go. I prefer we learn everything when we're back home and with some grub. Jennette's probably worried about us."
The little boy huffed and slumped into his chair, bringing up a glowing tablet and playing with it. "Fine…"
Veronica had so many questions, from where exactly they were going to where Joseph's parents were to what that thing he's holding is. The most important question still racking her mind: Where the hell is Nathan?
However, as they flew across the old road and the moon hung high in the sky, she felt the exhaustion of today finally get to her when she yawned. She looked over at her friends to see they had already passed out, slumped against the leather seats and the car window. Seeing that only made her sleepier, and she took only one more glance at the dark desert outside before yawning again and resting her head against the leather.
