Chapter 14 - New and Unusual

It took just over two hours to finally arrive at the Saloon, and it was just past noon when they got there. At least, if Marilyn's Pip-Boy was to be believed. She went to say something to Dick but before she could, a drunk man staggered out of the front door. He wore only his underwear and a pair of cowboy boots. The drunk man took a few unsteady steps before stumbling into the railing of the front porch, flipping over it and knocking himself out against the road. Marilyn and Dick shared uneasy glances before stepping past the drunk to enter the Saloon.

The smoky room was full of unpleasant noises and foul smells. Rock and roll music played loudly from the radio and the whole place was frenetic with wild violence. Marilyn backed into Dick nervously as a man with an eyepatch skulked past towards the pool table, where a different man with a mohawk broke a beer bottle over a blond man's head. The eyepatch man just stepped on the unconscious blond as he continued past towards a ratty sofa, before the mohawk man was dragging the body away.

"This is just like a wild west movie," Dick mumbled with a hint of awe.

"You think one of these people will be willing to work for us?" Marilyn asked uneasily.

"Dunno, maybe?" Dick shrugged, "Maybe that guy at the bar could help us."

Marilyn followed his gaze to the bar. The bartender, who was calmly wiping up with a rag, looked surprisingly out of place… yet also not at all. He was very tidy, with his hair neatly combed and slick with pomade. He also wore a dark brown suit vest and yellowed undershirt, complete with faded red bowtie. Yet he also had shifty eyes, a ratty beard, and a cigarette between his lips.

The man caught them staring as he transitioned from wiping the bartop to wiping out some mugs, using the same dirty rag, and gave them a nod of greeting. Not wanting to try shouting over the noise or appear rude, Marilyn gave Dick a glance before they approached the bar.

"What'll it be?" The bartender asked, "Beer, beer, or beer?"

"I think you gotta go with the beer, right?" Dick grinned but then paused, "Err, wait, I mean–"

"What?" The bartender looked at him flatly, "Getting overwhelmed by the choices, son?"

"No, no," Dick quickly shook his head, "Just, uh, we're not here for beer."

At this, the bartender snorted, turning and filling a mug.

"Also we're not even old enough to drink," Dick frowned as the mug was set in front of him.

"Who says? Your mommy?" The bartender perked a brow, "Well, mommy ain't here, sonny. So that'll be 5 caps."

Marilyn frowned, setting her hands on the edge of the bar.

"Um, excuse me?" She interjected, drawing the bartender's gaze, "Are you Ricardo?"

"...That I am," Ricardo squinted suspiciously, leaning an arm on the bar, "But how do you know my name if I don't know yours?"

"I'm Marilyn and this is Dick. Doc Cherry mentioned you," She explained quickly, watching his suspicion lessen slightly, "He said we should come here to hire a mercenary?"

"Ah, yup," Ricardo nodded, "Ain't sure why, but mercs seem to have decided my place is their little haven of sorts."

"Well, could you get us in contact with some of them?" Marilyn asked, to which Ricardo chuckled.

"Look around you, little lady," He gestured around the chaotic room, "These are all mercs."

Marilyn looked around again nervously, pausing to stare at a woman injecting herself with something in the corner.

"You look a bit overwhelmed, so why don't you let me help you out?" Ricardo gave a sympathetic smile, "Most of these fellas are my regulars, so I know them all well enough to know how they work. What're you looking for?"

"Someone to show us around," Marilyn answered, "And protect us from danger."

"And who won't just kill us and take our stuff," Dick added.

"Hmm, so lemme see here," Ricardo hummed, stroking his beard, "So you want someone with a bit of knowhow on the area, capable of holding their own, and with a code of honor. That sound about right?"

Both Marilyn and Dick nodded.

"I think I know just the guy," Ricardo nodded back, "Billy."

"Billy?" Marilyn perked a brow.

"Billy," Ricardo repeated.

"Err, who's Billy?" Dick blinked.

"Billy Hewitt," Ricardo explained, "One ugly son of a gun, and he's twice as mean as he looks. But it sounds like he's what you need."

"Where can we find this Billy?" Marilyn asked.

"He's around here somewhere," Ricardo gestured around the room with a shrug, "I'm sure you'll find him."

"How will we know him when we see him?" Dick asked, to which Ricardo laughed.

"Oh, trust me, son," Ricardo chuckled, "You'll know him the moment you see him. Ugliest fella in the place."

Marilyn and Dick exchanged uncertain glances. But then Dick looked past Marilyn and his eyes widened.

"Oh, speak of the devil," Ricardo piped up, "The man in the flesh! Well, sort of!"

Marilyn perked a brow, turning around. She was unable to help herself from gasping as a man approached the bar. The first thing she saw was that he had no nose. It was just gone. Nothing. Just a gaping hole. And the rest of his face wasn't much better, with all the flesh mottled and burned. His ears were both missing chunks from the lobes, his lips were withered, and he had only a few stray hairs where his eyebrows should've been. Marilyn suspected he similarly had no hair on his head, but it was hard to tell due to him wearing a dark brown slouch hat.

"Afternoon, Billy," Ricardo greeted the disfigured man with a nod.

"How'd you know I wanted another beer?" Billy asked as he picked up the mug from the counter, setting a handful of caps in its place.

His voice was unlike any Marilyn had ever heard before. Deep and scratchy, like he had just swallowed a mouthful of coarse sand and it had gotten stuck in his throat.

"Hey, it's my job to know," Ricardo lied, swiping up the caps.

Billy just grunted in response, taking a sip of the beer. His small colorless eyes flicked over towards Marilyn and Dick, who both still stared. Billy looked them each up and down for a moment before firmly setting the beer against the bar. Some of its frothy contents splashed against the countertop, making the two startle. Ricardo just sighed, getting the rag out again.

"You got somethin' to say?" Billy growled, eyes narrowing as his gloved hand moved towards the pistol holstered to his hip.

"Easy, Billy," Ricardo paused mid-wipe, "Don't wanna blow another potential job, now do ya?"

"What job?" Billy looked at him quickly.

"These two were just talking about hiring you," Ricardo perked a brow, "So don't get triggerhappy."

"That so?" Billy moved his hand from the holster, "Well, I'm listening."

"Um," Dick cleared his throat, "What's… y'know..?"

Dick gestured to his face and then towards Billy, who looked back flatly.

"What? Never seen a ghoul before?" Billy snorted, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

Marilyn wondered how he could snort without a nose.

"Err, no, we haven't," She shook her head, "We just left the Vault a little—"

"Yeah, obviously," Billy interrupted, putting the cigarette between his withered lips.

Marilyn's eyes widened upon noticing the Pip-Boy clamped upon his wrist.

"So what did you want to hire me for?" Billy asked as Ricardo lit his cigarette, "Obviously not to kill somebody for you, so what's the job?"

"We need someone to guide us," Dick answered when Marilyn didn't.

"Wasn't talking to you, pretty boy," Billy glanced at Dick before looking back at Marilyn.

"Um, we need someone to guide us," Marilyn repeated as Dick made a face.

"Guide you where?" Billy asked, puffing on his cigarette.

"Nowhere in particular," Marilyn shrugged, "Just, um, around."

"They need somebody to keep them outta trouble and shoot at raiders for them," Ricardo answered, taking pity on Marilyn's floundering explanation.

Billy looked thoughtful for a moment before humming and looking back at Marilyn.

"How much are you offering?" He asked, to which Dick pulled out the bag of caps.

He offered it towards Billy, who just puffed smoke in his direction and never looked away from Marilyn. Furrowing his brow in annoyance, Dick handed the bag to Marilyn instead. Then once she held it out to Billy, he took it.

"This it?" Billy scoffed, glancing at the bag, "This can't be more than 20 caps."

"It's all we've got," Marilyn frowned.

Billy puffed on his cigarette for a moment, appearing thoughtful again. But then he shook his head.

"20 caps for an indefinite and non-specific job," He said at last, flicking some ashes from his cigarette into the nearby ashtray, "Doesn't sound like a good business move to me."

Ricardo cleared his throat, drawing Billy's pale gaze.

"Thought you said Vault dwellers should look out for each other?" Ricardo offered.

Billy just scowled in response, scrunching his lips like he just tasted something sour. But then he sighed after a moment.

"200 caps," He sniffed, glancing over towards Marilyn.

"Huh?" She blinked.

"I'll do it for 200 caps," He said as he picked up his beer.

"But we only have 20…" She frowned, watching him.

"Then guess you better find some more," Billy shrugged before turning and walking away.

Marilyn glanced at Ricardo uncertainly, receiving only a shrug in response.

"I don't like that guy," Dick grumbled, "Let's just find somebody else."

"Good luck with that," Ricardo snorted, "200 caps is already a steal. You won't find anybody in this place for less."

"Well, then, maybe we don't even need a guide," Dick huffed.

"You know we do," Marilyn said quietly.

Dick just glanced aside, looking frustrated. Marilyn understood how he felt. She didn't like the concept of money. She knew about it, from the history books and the old films. But there was no need for anything like that inside of the Vault. Ration coupons made a lot more sense as a currency, as it actually had a use. Bottle caps, though? Not so much.

"Well, if you need caps, I might have a few ideas," Ricardo piped up after a moment, "Ever since Leroy ran off, I could use somebody to help out around here with the cleaning."

"I could do that," Dick looked over, "I used to work in waste management back in the Vault."

"Hmm, actually," Ricardo glanced over towards Marilyn, "I was thinking that a pretty girl's got more… well, value, you know? At least, around a bar full of drunk fellas."

Dick scowled at the implication. Marilyn just blushed.

"I-I get it," Marilyn nodded quickly, "How much, um…"

"40 caps per day," Ricardo offered.

"Alright," Marilyn nodded again, "I'll do it."

"What about me?" Dick asked grumpily.

"For you, I suggest you check out the bank," He said as he handed Marilyn a ratty mop.

"You guys still use banks?" Dick cocked his head to the side.

"Yeah, but not like you're thinking," Ricardo chuckled, "Folks always need something or other around town. Most of them post about jobs over at the bank. You can probably find something there."

"Well… alright, but…" Dick frowned, turning to Marilyn, "You sure you'll be alright alone? What if one of these guys gets fresh?"

"I'm sure the little lady can handle herself, son," Ricardo smiled, "And she can also handle the vomit on the back porch, which sat out all night."

Marilyn nodded to Ricardo and then looked at Dick.

"I'll be alright, don't worry," She said as she tried to give him a reassuring smile, "You just go to the bank, okay?"

"Head back the way you came, past the Super-Duper Mart. Continue towards the shore then head north. Once you hit the police station, turn left," Ricardo explained, "Got all that?"

"Uh, right," Dick nodded, "Yeah, I think so…"

Dick looked anxious to leave her, but Marilyn gave him another smile. She was, admittedly, a bit reluctant to separate from him too. He may have been worried about her, but she was worried about him. And as soon as he had left, she already couldn't wait for him to return.