Chapter 25: Dream-walker

The stench of ash and death filled her nostrils. Looking through the binoculars once more, she saw the waves steadily overrunning the emplacements on the dam. Troopers were cut off and systematically destroyed while the never-ending tide of screaming warriors continued their unyielding onslaught. In the distance, fires sprung from the fortified camp, and jumbled radio calls painted a chaotic picture.

"…Forlorn Hope is requesting reinforcements, urgently!"

"This is Camp Golf, we are pinned down!"

"They blew up the monorail! The Omertas are slaughtering everyone!"

"This is Helios One! The Brotherhood is going to overrun us!"

Rosa took a deep breath. She turned behind her to see the almost faceless figures waiting for her command. The female marshal gripped her gun, determined. The male almost looked as if he would puke. The mobster in the tie loaded another shell in his shotgun, while the preacher looked to her, his eyes unblinking.

"…Everyone, this is it," Rosa announced. "We are going to end this fight, one way or another. I wouldn't have anyone else at my back. Let's go, charge!"

The four stormed to the dam, opening up on the warriors as they approached. Rosa slid under a Wild Khan as he was about to strike, her machete carving into his leg before returning to her feet. Once she did, she saw a pack rushing her, ducking as the marshals lit them up as they approached. The mobster had blown a hole through one of the survivors as he tried to jump him, and in a swift motion planted a pocket knife into the neck of a wounded Khan.

Working in concert, the four fought their way to the center of the dam. It looked like their allies could pull through, it looked like they just might eke out a win in this hellacious situation. Then the main crux of the invaders arrived.

Power armor marched across the wall. The row of soldiers pulled out belt-fed machine guns. Rosa ordered her friends to take cover, but her commands were drowned out by the sudden bursts of high-caliber fire. The male marshal was torn to pieces, bit by bit. The female tried to run but was attacked by a Khan, her throat slit before she knew what happened. The mobster, damn him, covered her with his body, taking the full force of the bullets. She felt the life leave him.

"…Stop it…" she looked back to where she had started. "…Please stop it…"

An armored foot kicked the carcass off of her. Gripping her machete, Rosa immediately swung at the figure with everything she had. It was a flurry of mostly impotent offense, but one of her strikes managed to snake its way just under the helmet, cutting into the neck and forcing the figure to stagger back. In a rage and emboldened by her victory, Rosa screamed as she tightened her grip and forced her way into the row of soldiers. Using every last bit of strength she had, she leaped into the air for one last attack. She didn't see the elephant gun until the blast deafened her, her body jolted back as she felt her foot trip off the edge of the dam.

She could only watch as her blood and guts trailed after her, streaking along the great dam as she fell into the water.

Rosa awoke with a jolt. Her forehead drenched in sweat, her eyes darted around her to take account of her setting. Same tent, same cot, same preacher sitting across from her. Breathing a sigh of relief and stress, she swung her feet over the cot.

"Well, what did you see?" Joseph asked.

"Bite me," Rosa snipped.

"Hey," Joseph snapped. "You know it's not up to me!"

Rosa collected herself and bowed her head. "…Sorry."

Joseph shook his head. "No, that's unnecessary. I forgot how intense these things are. Let's try again. What happened?"

"…I was at Hoover Dam," Rosa recollected. "But not the one my… the Governor fought at."

"I see," Joseph nodded. "What changed?"

"…No Legion. It was the Khans and… I think the Confeddies." Rosa said.

"Go on," Joseph continued.

"…We got our asses kicked," Rosa finally admitted.

"And there we have our issue," Joseph finally stated, confidently. "I think we found your main issue."

"Yeah, a gutful of buckshot is pretty scary," Rosa snorted, unconsciously rubbing her stomach.

"No, your issue is that you have a burden few others have. A legacy. Expectations. A purpose and destiny not your own."

Rosa's lip curled. "And you had me go through a nightmare to see that? I could've told you from the get go."

"I'm talking about a much deeper issue than that," Joseph shook his head. "Why Hoover Dam? That place holds no major significance to you. That isn't your battle."

"It's the Governors," Rosa growled.

"And your nightmare is that you will fail where he succeeded," Joseph stated.

Rosa grabbed the pillow at the end of the cot. "Before you hit me, can I continue?" Joseph pleaded. Rosa released the pillow.

"You fought at a variation of the battle of Hoover Dam, not the battle he fought at. Just as the challenges he faced are different from yours."

"Obviously," Rosa rolled her eyes.

"The point is you cannot focus on the similarities," Joseph stated. "Your situation is not like what your-" he paused as Rosa let out a growl. "…the Governor faced, and thinking along those lines will only crush you in the end. Do not let the seeming familiarity of the burden mislead you. Think of it as destiny's way of keeping you on this planet. What you are doing is of the utmost importance, and the repercussions of your actions will echo far beyond that of our immediate concerns."

"So I'm the Chosen One?" Rosa scoffed. "I never met grandpa."

"It applies to all of us, only you have the privilege of knowing the scope of your mission beforehand," Joseph pressed.

Rosa blew a bang out of her face. "…Let's try again," she pressed.

"I think taking some time before you go back would be wiser," Joseph retorted.

"Sooner is better," Rosa countered. "It's either this or hanging out with Jimmy at my tent."

"…Very well," Joseph once again clasped both hands on his cane as he bowed his head. Rosa felt her mind once again pulled away from the land of the living…

Rosa had only just arrived at the El Rey right as Florence had taken the last of her suitcases out of her room. Their eyes briefly met, the older woman looking away as she carried her baggage to her brahmin. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Rosa sniffed as her brow furrowed in anger. "Why didn't you tell me?" she choked out.

"…I figured it would hurt more if I did," the pretty brunette admitted.

"You said you were talking with daddy!" Rosa almost screamed. "You weren't fighting anymore!"

"Because we came to an understanding," Florence breathed. "I'm going home."

"It's no fair!" Rosa whined. "You made daddy happy! You make me happy! It's not fair!" she bawled, wiping her nose with her sleeve.

Flo set down her suitcase, sitting on the floor of the balcony with her legs dangling off the edge. Rosa swallowed the lump in her throat and joined her, as they had often done on quiet evenings when Rosa had left school and her friends had gone home. While the Lucky 38 was her home, technically, Rosa had confided in Flo that the great and lonely spaces often frightened her, making her feel even lonelier than usual.

"…So, what happens now?" Rosa sniffed.

"…Your daddy will have to find someone new. Maybe it'll be fun!" Flo tried to perk up her unofficial step-daughter.

"…Most of the ladies pay more attention to daddy than me. You're the only one we both like the same," Rosa mumbled.

"…Yeah, I thought so, too," Flo admitted. "…Things were complicated, Rosa. When you're older, you'll understand."

Rosa made a face. She heard that phrase so often around the town, and it never ever made her feel any better. Uncle Arcade had ways of explaining things to her in ways she could understand. It felt more like no one wanted to even try.

"I know," Flo wrapped her arm around Rosa. "I hated hearing that, too. So, to make it up to you, how about one last gift?"

Rosa looked up at Flo, who took off a key hanging around her neck. "Here's the key to my room. So, I guess it's technically yours, now?"

Rosa took the key, the weight pressing down on her palm. "…You mean it?"

"You wanted your own space, right?" Flo asked. "Somewhere where you and your friends and Mr. Bones can hang out?"

Rosa bristled. Carla and Tobster had been making fun of her for her "imaginary friend." It always seemed to make Mr. and Mrs. Boone uncomfortable, too, and even daddy asked her not to go around telling people about it. She never remembered telling Flo, but Rosa was pretty forgetful so maybe she did and forgot to remember.

Anyway, she had always enjoyed her time spent with Flo in her room, even if she never wanted her to meet the rest of her friends she brought with her from California. She didn't understand why, seeing as so many other people could visit those girls. Flo explained that they were having the kind of fun only grown-ups could have, like reading a magazine or talking about boring stuff. It didn't sound like talking through the walls, though.

That room would eventually become Rosa's sanctuary. It was where she would go when she got mad at daddy or something made her cry. It was where she would try and disguise herself when she got older and realized too many strangers recognized her. It was where she would try alcohol and boys for the first time, and where she would take Tobey away from Carla when she wanted some personal time with him. It was where she would nurse herself after some vagrants got off some lucky shots, holding an ice-cold beer to her swollen eye as Jimmy stopped by and told her he couldn't find them while apologizing for tracking dirt on her carpet. And it was now that she realized she missed it.

"Take me home, Joseph," Rosa said, aloud.

"Who are you talking to, Rosie?" Flo asked, confused.

Rosa came awake once more, Joseph wiping some sweat from his face.

"Joseph, you can plant dreams, right?" Rosa asked.

"What do you have in mind?" Joseph replied, feeling trepidation.

"I want to be back at the El Rey. I feel… safe there," Rosa admitted.

"So, despite all insistence to the contrary, you do miss home," Joseph said, casually and without judgment.

"I don't miss the places," Rosa shook her head. "I miss… I miss the memories. I don't care if Flo was a spy, I wish she stayed. I should have gone with her to California."

"You don't mean that," Joseph replied.

"You mean so that California won't have a hostage? Right, the Governor likes me too much for that. It would make more sense for me to get sent to Texas with the Legion, right?" she scoffed.

"No one is treating this situation like that. Not Commissioner Boone, not Colonel Gorobets, not Jimmy or Carla or Tobey, and certainly not me. We have your back, Rosa. We all want you to come back to the El Ray.

Rosa rubbed her sore head. Normally, these dream sessions were to put her mind at ease and correctly deal with what she had to face before her. A de-stressor, in essence. It also allowed her to work through problems and practice in a setting where she could fail and try again with no consequence. She knew that in the waking world she could not take back a wrong sentence or action, which made her time with Joseph all the more valuable.

Joseph was not privy to what and how Rosa spent her time in the realm of dreams. Usually, she came to him after a bad breakup or an argument with the Boone twins or when she wanted to get away from her father. Behind her tough exterior was a woman who didn't want to be hurt, who hated saying goodbye and wanted the best for others around her, even if she often… struggled to show it.

"We won't leave you," Joseph said.

"I know that," Rosa shook her head.

"Just thought you'd like to hear that," Joseph smiled.

"Noted," Rosa snorted. Thank you.

Joseph chuckled. "Well, it's getting a bit late. Want me to craft something pleasant for your nightcap?"

"One more," Rosa insisted.

"I really should be going. Jimmy is going to worry if you don't get back soon," Joseph tried to counter.

"I just need one more go," Rosa pleaded. "I need to work on something."

"And that is?" Joseph asked.

"It's just for me," Rosa said. "…I need to make sure I get it right, Joe. Not just for my sake."

"Giving up on killing him, have you?" Joseph smirked.

"I just want to make it abundantly clear that, whatever happened between the two of us, Carla is off-limits," Rosa explained.

"Why not just approach Carla and tell her you just care about her?" Joseph asked.

"…Because she wouldn't believe me," Rosa admitted. "I don't think I can talk to her directly about this kind of stuff. Between the whole deal with me and Tobey along with the fights we got in… I think it would be better if I confronted Dip- Larain," she corrected.

"…Very well," Joseph accepted the explanation. "I'd prefer you showing your better attributes to your friend, but I understand."

"Thank you, Joseph," Rosa smiled sadly as her eyes felt heavier.

The wasteland spread out for miles beyond all horizons. As the sun bore down on her, Rosa trudged forward, reciting and rehearsing her spiel as she approached the figure on the horizon. "…I'm not her… no… she's not like me… I made a mistake, you shouldn't even be here…" Rosa muttered to herself.

"…Carla isn't like me, Larain. She's sweeter and kinder. I'm not like that, I know whatever bullshit you're into, I can handle. Carla is a straight arrow. One time when we were kids, she made a splint for a fucking mole-rat! A mole-rat! Smart thing to do would've been to kill it for dinner, but not Carla. Because Carla cares!"

"Carla cares… and I care about Carla. You are not her type. You SHOULDN'T be her type. I don't know anything about you, and while that's enough to get in my bed, Carla deserves better. Carla deserves better than you. Carla deserves… better than me," Rosa's head began to falter.

"If you keep hanging out with her, you'll either break her heart or destroy all the things that make her Carla. You will not do this, Larain, I care too much about her. I swear, if you hurt her, Larain, I will end you! You hear me? You won't be another Duke, Jimmy isn't going to scare you off. I will hit you so hard you never get back up! You hear me, Dipshit! Never. Get. Back. Up!"

As the figure drew closer, Rosa finalized the speech. Carla good. You bad. Me worse. Carla deserves better. Leave or me kill you. Satisfactory. B+. Gold star.

"Hey, Larain!" Rosa called out. The figure turned to face her. As Rosa was about to begin, the words suddenly began to die in her throat. Dreams could be unpredictable. Several times Rosa remembered going to high school in her underwear despite never having set foot in one. Stupid things like flying lake-lurkers and bike-riding radscorpions and talking deathclaws were somewhat expected in the realm of dreams. But even this caught her off guard.

Larain wasn't wearing his usual wasteland leather get-up she usually saw him in. Now he was wearing a drab-olive uniform, a plasma rifle slung across his back while a legionary machete and a plasma pistol hung from his waist. When he turned to look at her, his eyes widened in shock.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" Rosa finally asked, having forgotten her whole speech.

"Rosa, you need to leave!" Larain curtly commanded.

"Not until I tell you to stay away from Carla!" Rosa shot back. "Who the hell are you, anyway?!"

An overcast slowly began overtaking the sun as the wind began kicking up dust around them. Rosa threw up her arms over her face to block the wind while Larain looked into the oncoming storm. "…Damn him…" he muttered, drawing his pistol. He turned and fired a warning shot at Rosa's feet. "GO!" he ordered.

"…Man, fuck this!" Rosa snarled as she drew her own machete and attacked Larain, knocking the pistol out of his hand while forcing him to draw his own machete. Rosa thought back to Zion Canyon where the Governor, Flo, and she had gone for a vacation as they fought. She remembered watching him practice one early morning with a machete, using a stance and styles she'd never even seen before. So, just this once, and with no one looking, she took a page out of his book.

Using the blade defensively, she feigned a strike after parrying away one of Larain's blows. As Larain moved to defend against the oncoming attack on his front, Rosa instead drew back the blade and snaked her arm under and behind his guard, landing a fist under his jaw. As the shock began to set in, Rosa quickly disarmed him by slicing his sword arm with her blade. Defeated, Larain fell to his knees, clutching his wound. "…I know I wanted to come here to talk," Rosa admitted. "But damn, that felt good!"

"…You stupid bitch," Larain seethed. "I was trying to help you!"

Now the slowly approaching figures had finally arrived. These guys were dressed like Larain, but they all seemed older and more… hardened. Like him, they all carried plasma weapons, though unlike Larain they didn't seem particularly sportsmanlike. They all pointed their weapons at her while one held out his fist, looking at Larain with a mixture of amusement and derision.

"Fuck, kid, Larain, this girl really got you soft?" the old geezer man heckled.

"Uncle, she's not a part of this, just let her go," Larain pleaded.

The old man looked like one of those old-timey prospectors from those western magazines Jimmy collected, what with the wispy beard and missing teeth. That being said, something about how he carried himself undermined anything comical about him. There was something in his eyes that unnerved Rosa. Something crazed, almost deranged, now that she thought of it. This was a man who spent his life fighting, and petty things like causes or winning weren't important factors.

"Kid, that girl has a bit to do with everything around these parts, wouldn't you say?" the old man cocked his eyebrow. "She's the kid of that rat bastard who broke the Legion, and I'd wager the granddaughter of he who broke the Enclave. Your family ruined my life twice over, girl. My only regret is that I can only kill you once."

Rosa began backing up as the plasma weapons began to whir to life. Gradually, she began to back up. "Listen, I just came to give a message to Larain. Now, I'll just take my leave and be going…"

"Yes, you will," the old man grinned. "Permanently. Lot of people I don't care for don't want you to die. Me… Us? I like to operate out of spite!"

Rosa turned and ran as they opened fire on her. Plasma was, compared to bullets or lasers, fairly slow compared to other projectiles. She remembered hearing Uncle Arcade explain that the engineers who designed the weapons had to limit the speed, otherwise the weapons could overheat and explode. That being said, only the desperate would try to outrun it, and no one was quite so fast enough. That brought up the second thing Uncle Arcade had told her. Plasma hurt like hell. The grazing wound on the back of her shoulder was enough to bring her down face first into the dirt, screaming in agony.

"JOSEPH!" she screamed. "WAKE ME UP! JOSEPH!"

A rumble behind her caught her attention. Glancing behind her, she saw a giant black mass set upon the gang of killers, rending them apart. She watched as it snatched up Larain and tore into his stomach while stomping the old man into the ground. The mass was laughing. Though it saved her, it was not her friend.

Rosa dragged herself to her feet, forcing her body forward as waves of suffering coursed through her body. Pushing herself away from the melee, in the distance she saw a faint light cutting through the storm. Just above the din of the deafening gale, she could make out a woman's voice. "Rosa! Come to me, Rosa!"

"…Mom?"

Invigorated, Rosa forced her body towards the torch, her pain slowly beginning to recede as the light drew closer and closer. However, the same light that drew her in also attracted an intruder. Out of the corner of her eye, she only just barely caught a glimpse of him.

The man wore a duster, a rifle unslung from his shoulders. He wore a desperado-style cowboy hat and a bandana around his face. The only thing peeking out were his cold, dead eyes. Unceremoniously, the man raised his rifle and fired.

Rosa slowly came to. The first nightmare had caused her to sweat and scream herself awake. Now, however, the sensation was quite different. She slowly felt the pain in her eye and shoulder fade away, felt her sickness begin to recede. It felt like she had actually been so close to death that her survival was legitimately a miracle. As feeling gradually returned to her body, she forced herself to her feet, rubbing her eyes as she began to process her simulated near-death experience.

"Joseph," she began. "…What the fuck was that?"

As her vision returned, she turned to look upon the chair Joseph sat, seeing it unoccupied. "…Joseph?" she called out. Her eyes didn't wander far, as she saw his body sprawled out on the ground. "Joe!" she called out as she sprung from the bed, jostling his shoulder. "What happened?" She turned his body over and gasped in horror.

Joseph's nose was gushing blood, his skin a near albino white. What little shallow breaths he was taking could barely indicate a person was effectively alive. It was only the pulse she could feel on his neck that gave her the briefest semblance of hope.

"MEL!" Rosa screamed. "THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH JOE!" she cried as she pushed Joseph onto the cot. "MEDIC!" she wailed in a panic.

Joseph stood at the center of the metal cave. Tendrils of flesh hung from the walls and choked the warmth from the place. Pacing around him, Joseph could feel, was a minotaur riding atop a giant wolf. A powerful beast, but nothing compared to what was coming. The tendrils began snaking towards him, and from the synapses and vessels of the meat, a woman revealed herself from the stalk.

"…Hello, chaplain," the woman grinned.

"Who are you?" Joseph asked.

"My name is Sybil," Sybil answered. "And you just might be interesting, Joseph."

"You know me?" Joseph asked.

"You are a promising young man. Your abilities are truly exceptional, almost on par with my own were it not for your limited perspective," she bemoaned.

"Limited?" Joseph asked. "You believe I limit myself?"

"All your potential, and what do you do with it? A paltry existence, barely above that of a beggar dependent on charity," Sybil mocked. "You could have been the leader of your people. Hell, the leader of Vegas. Imagine, making the Governor a slave to his own appetites, turning him into your puppet. And yet here you are, hiding your gifts from most like a leper. You don't deserve to be my equal."

"I'm not ashamed," Joseph shook his head. "I am humble. Not that it sounds like you have ever understood the distinction."

"I understand that you are a man," Sybil snickered. "And this little Rosa occupies a special place in your… heart, is it?"

"She is a friend who comes to me for guidance," Joseph explained. "Nothing more."

"Oh, but you do so adore her gratuity, don't you," Sybil heckled. "One of these days, she will express her gratuity to you in a way even you cannot resist."

"I'm married," Joseph replied, unfazed by the taunts. "I'd be betraying both of them if I did as you imply."

"Oh, your wife? A fitting woman for a beggar," Sybil grinned. "After all, the only property a beggar has is the refuse that others discard."

Joseph said nothing.

"A broken brat with no family or future but the one we gave her, stolen by one who bested the Caesars. Her future was given to her, a hand me down like that ratty toy bear she clung to," Sybil continued.

Joseph said nothing.

"I mean, the only thing she ever excelled at, other than serving as someone to clean the brahmin pens, was servicing legionaries with inclinations that…"

The minotaur and wolf erupted in flames. As the monsters screamed in agony, Sybil looked at the preacher. The patient demeanor was gone, now, replaced by a wave of seething anger.

"…Oh, so that's what it takes to get you to stop holding back," Sybil heckled as she receded into the wall of flesh. "Let's meet later, settle things on proper terms."

As Melody fretted over Joseph's body, she forcibly cleared the blood blocking his nose and compressing his chest to get him breathing properly. Rosa paced, feeling guilt over having dragged Joseph into her problems again. If something happened to him, she knew she'd never be worth forgiving.

Joseph let out a gasp of air, causing Melody to startle back and Rosa to rush to his bedside. "Joe! Are you OK? I'm sorry, I'm so sor-"

"Save it," Joseph finally breathed. "Where's Melody?"

"I'm here," Melody announced as she pushed beside Rosa. Joseph grabbed her by the hand, pulled her close, and embraced her with all his admittedly diminished strength. "Joseph, your condition right now is-" Melody tried to explain.

"Shut up," Joseph said as he squeezed his wife tighter.

"Joe, I swear if I knew what would happen…" Rosa tried to explain.

"You didn't," Joseph broke the hug. "Neither did I. There's a reason I don't consider myself a fortune teller. I went too deep in waters one should not swim in for long. Whatever you saw, Rosa, was something you should not be privy to."

"So I should just forget what I saw?" Rosa asked.

"…Not necessarily," Joseph shook his head. "More like keep it in the back of your mind. Don't forget, but don't depend on glimpses of things that should not yet be."

"So, forget I just saw the future? Got it," Rosa scoffed, her usual personality beginning to return, much to her relief and Joseph's mild disappointment.

"No, remember you saw A future," Joseph corrected. "…I think I can safely say we are done for the night, wouldn't you say?" he asked.

"…Thanks, Joe," Rosa nodded. "Sorry for the scare, Melody. I guess I'll head out."

"Rosa!" Melody called after her. "…I'm glad you were with him. I don't want to think about what would happen if he had an episode by himself."

"Melody," Joseph whined, embarrassed.

"It's true," Melody shot over her shoulder. "I know we don't always see eye-to-eye, but I'm glad I can trust you with him."

"Thanks, Mel," Rosa smiled. As she left the tent, Melody turned back to look at her husband. "You going to be OK?"

Joseph turned to "look" at his wife. "Remember what I said about hoping I'd find others like me? I think I just got my prayer answered. And I now wish they hadn't."

"Joseph?" Melody asked.

"Looks like I'll be more active regarding upcoming events than I expected. There's a threat coming that no one else can handle. I just pray to the Shepherd that I will be granted enough strength to endure."

Classified Report from Camp McCarren Judicial Marshal Office

Caesar's Legion is a threat. Sybil is a threat multiplier. All forces tasked with missions in the Unclaimed Wastes are to be on the lookout for a skinny woman, approx. 5' 11", with clear, translucent eyes. We made contact with her in 2282, and she is quite possibly the most dangerous thing outside of a nuke we've yet encountered. We've been working with the Followers of the Apocalypse to unearth rumored "anti-psychic weapons" but nothing has been confirmed as of yet. With that in mind, we strongly advise that, if spotted, you keep your distance. One wrong move and she'll have a marshal under her control. As to the rumored reports of using robotic means to neutralize her as a threat, we cannot confirm nor deny anything as of this time. -Deputy Chief Natalie Hale