Chapter 30: Growing Relations

The camp was as quiet as it had been over the past few days. Ever since the attacks, the usual sounds of conversation and idle chatter had been muted. Larain certainly thought that things had been deathly silent. Even since he found himself debriefing Commissioner Boone about why and how that priest escaped being held at gunpoint, it felt like even more people had been giving him the cold shoulder. In his opinion, that would be preferable, provided that it was the alternative to being stalked by that mobster. He knew Jimmy was looking for a confrontation, and Larain would do everything in his power to not give him an excuse.

The small fire on the outskirts only had a single occupier. Looking up, he greeted Larain warmly as he motioned for him to join. As of late, Tobey had been friendlier than usual. Likely because he felt he owed him, Larain thought as he accepted the offer, warming himself by the fire.

"You handled yourself pretty good," Tobey admitted. "Got to say, whoever taught you how to shoot knew what they were doing."

"That they did," Larain conceded, smiling. "And you marshals aren't anything to take lightly, neither."

Tobey chuckled as he snapped the magazine into his rifle. "Things got bad that night. Now that it's over, I got a lot on my mind that I'm not looking forward to thinking about. If something happened to me or Carla, I don't even want to imagine what that would do to Mom."

"Least you got someone who'd kick up a fuss," Larain scoffed, playfully.

"I guess," Tobey shrugged as he prodded the embers. "So, where did you learn to shoot?"

Larain bit his lips as he tried to dredge up the story he'd been crafting the past few weeks. "…Caravan and the like. You got to force yourself to think out of the box. Any asshole can hold two handguns, the guys who actually know how to use them both can keep doing so."

Tobey grinned. "That kind of handling always drove Pops up the wall. "If you want to use both hands, get a rifle like a real shooter. All you'd be able to do is shoot like shit in two different directions!"

Larain let out a laugh. "He sounds like fun! What crawled up his ass and died?"

"Long story," Tobey conceded. "…Who taught you how to shoot?"

"I just said…" Larain began.

"For real," Tobey interjected, his good humor dissipating.

Larain paused for a moment before letting out a nervous laugh. "I don't get what you mean. Is this some kind of rib or-"

"Rosa hates your guts," Tobey interrupted. "And Jimmy never liked you. Your biggest supporters for staying with us are Joseph (who likes everyone) and my sister. You saving my ass is starting to win me over, but trust is the most important point of a relationship with me. I will not be judgmental or share what you tell me with anyone else. If you can respect me with the truth, I will not doubt you going forward. Who trained you?"

"…Who do you think trained me?" Larain said as he stared into the fire.

"Considering your discipline and lack of orthodoxy, I'd supposed you know a bit more about the Liberty Clans than you've been divulging," Tobey stated.

"…Supposing you're right," Larain measured out, slowly. "What would that mean for me?"

"You tell me," Tobey continued. "Logic dictates you should be hostile ever since we took fire from them, but you passing up a chance to flee to save my life does complicate the math a bit, wouldn't you say?" the marshal asked, rhetorically.

"…Sure, I'd say so," Larain nodded, slightly.

"But that doesn't answer the real big question I got," Tobey continued as he tossed away the stick. "Why are you here?"

"…You want the truth?" Larain began. "Fine. That whole "strung up with a rebar through my shoulder" story? I made it up, I admit it."

"Well, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Tobey began.

"I am a member of the Liberty Clans. Or rather, I was," Larain continued. "The reason I was in around Vegas was to scope out the place and report back to my boss."

"Did your plan involve sleeping with Rosa?" Tobey asked.

"No, that was… uh… spontaneous and regrettable," Larain admitted. "Anyway, after I linked back up with my group, we got into a disagreement. I didn't think you guys were so bad, but I couldn't bring the rest of the crew around. So, they wanted to correct my thinking by beating the shit out of me."

"Hmph," Tobey nodded, his face betraying nothing.

"I'm riding with you guys, now," Tobey continued, gaining confidence. "I'm dead to my old family. I don't ask for much, just a few square meals and somewhere warm to sleep."

"For good? Or the moment?" Tobey asked.

"…If my family allied with those Ministerio bastards, they've already betrayed most of their principles," Larain admitted.

"And who would your family be?" Tobey asked as his eyes narrowed.

Larain looked at the marshal. His posture hadn't changed, but the tension between them had become so thick it bordered on suffocation. He only gave up what information he did because Carla's brother forced him into a corner. He was trapped between two sides and didn't know what the right choice was. This conflict spoke to him on some deep, indescribable level. Still, he did have one more choice to make. One more betrayal, but for whom?

"…Hoss Hooper," Larain lied, offering up Kenzie McGrath's most ardent and stubborn rival.

"…That right?" Tobey said as he picked up his stick and continued playing with the fire. "Well, hope you don't mind plugging a bullet in his skull when the time comes. You owe us one priest you let escape."

"I keep telling you, that wasn't my fault!" Larain whined. "You left first, so you should share the blame!"

As the two began to bicker, Jimmy felt a finger tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Rosa looking around her. "How's Tobster and Dipshit?"

"Had a little heart-to-heart, couldn't make most of it out but I guess it involves staying the hell away from Carla," Jimmy suggested.

"Good," Rosa nodded. "…the Commish wants to talk to you."

Jimmy's eyes widened. "I swear, that business with the quartermaster was strictly…"

"She wants your advice," Rosa admitted.

"…Me?" Jimmy pointed to himself, exasperated. "The top cop in Arizona wants my advice?"

"That guy you brought down is still alive," Rosa explained. "Minus a shoulder, but conscious and has a bunch of marshals trying to crack him."

"So where do I come in?" Jimmy asked, rhetorically as he already figured the answer.

"Well, some of the marshals are a bit… soft," Rosa barely hid her grin. "And they could use the help of a real technician."

"Not interested," Jimmy said, flatly, fishing out a toothpick as Rosa gaped at him.

"C'mon, you were such a hardass for business. You're telling me you'd rather work over a drug peddler working without your permission than a literal terrorist?"

"I'd love to," Jimmy admitted. "But not for information. Chances are he'll either endure what I put him through or say anything I want to hear. The only people who torture for pleasure are twisted fucks who get off on it. That's why torture is overrated and I only do it to intimidate."

"Well, maybe that's all you need to do," Rosa scoffed.

"This guy thinks God has his back, I think it might be beyond my abilities to scare him," Jimmy sighed. "Speaking of, how's Joe?"

Rosa's smile began to recede. "…Mel says he'll be OK, somehow nothing in his gut ruptured or something like that. Course, he'll be needing a stronger cane going forward, probably as a crutch."

"So now we're babysitting a blind gimp. Lovely," Jimmy snorted.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Rosa growled as she wheeled towards Jimmy Bishop.

"With me? This guy can predict the future but somehow he couldn't have given us a head's up about getting attacked? How many deaths could he have prevented if he, I don't know, felt like it?" Jimmy snarled in kind.

"Whatever he can do, he isn't perfect at it," Rosa gritted. "He's not God, he never claimed to be!"

"He's not reliable, either," Jimmy shot back. "And that means he ain't dependable."

"What is your problem, Jim?" Rosa asked. "He's saved our asses enough to not have to put up with your shit by now!"

"He's going to let you down, kid," Jimmy stressed. "One day, the miracle is not going to kick in when you need it most, and then what? I get he is your friend, but the more you depend on him, the deeper the knife in your back when he fails."

"So, what is that supposed to mean?" Rosa scoffed. "I'm just supposed to depend on you?"

"I'm not in the business of making promises I can't keep, Rosa," Jimmy drew out. "When you're ready to return to earth, let me know. Until then, I'm going to leave sentry duty for a bit to chat with Quartermaster Hutsgy."

Rosa snorted. "You've had pussy on tap for years at the Wrangler but only now you found time for another woman? Forget Joseph, you're the real freak, here."

"My relationship with Quartermaster Hutsgy is strictly a professional one. I believe it would benefit all of us if we made good with the camp supplier. After all, she's the reason Larain is now armed and dangerous," Jimmy tried to explain. "Scouts also say we're about a day out from someplace with a dumb name. "Res by the Res," I think? It'll probably be her last, best chance to gather supplies while we continue out to the east."

Rosa blinked. "…You fucking bastard…"

Jimmy blinked. "…What?" he asked, confused.

"You're taking that bitch shopping!" Rosa cackled.

"It's strictly an acquisitional run. Equipment procurement. Just business," Jimmy explained.

"And, uh, what's your rationale for assisting in these transactions?" Rosa mocked. "Is there anything in writing or is it merely an oral agreement? Oh, better yet, maybe an an-"

"Knock it off!" Jimmy snapped. "This is why I don't talk about my personal life with you. You already made up your mind about it, so why bother?"

"I'm just joking," Rosa conceded. "Probably just trying to change the subject to keep from slugging you. Well, I told you about what the Commish wanted, so do whatever," Rosa waved him off.

"…I care enough about you to worry, kid," Jimmy said as he left his post. Rosa watched as he walked into the camp, taking his position overseeing the fire as she watched the two. Whatever argument had transpired between them had petered out, replaced by a burst of shared laughter over a joke she could not hear. Rosa seethed as she felt betrayed by another ally she thought she could put her faith in. It was becoming clear to her she had to act before something transpired that everyone would regret.

"…as they broke upon the walls we wept/ our homes and lives they swept/ our families put to chains/ but we will return again/ our freedom calling, time is nigh/ so my child, hold your head up high…"

The words seemed to waft into his ears. The melody was crude but sweet, an ode that he had never heard before. As the faint smells wafted into his nostrils, he felt his stomach rumble. Slowly, he peeked one of his eyes open.

The woman was bent over a stove, her alluring figure doing little to alleviate his starvation. She was wearing what looked to be a skirt and corset behind her apron, and her brunette hair was tied as she checked over the broiling pot. As she turned around, Dinero snapped his eye shut as she muttered to herself. "Where did I put that damn letter opener?"

He heard her walk up to the side of his bed. "There it is," she muttered as she began to stretch over his "sleeping" body. Once again, Markus snuck open a peek, looking down her corset as he admired her ample breasts resting by the side of his head. He fought back a grin as she grabbed the switchblade. "There we go," she said to herself as she sprang the knife from its holster. "That'll do," she purred as she held the knife against Dinero's throat. "Show's over. Get up."

Groggily, Dinero surrendered, forcing his exhausted body up against the headboard. "W-what gave me away?"

The woman shot a glance somewhere down the bed. "It wasn't… hard," she couldn't help but giggle.

Markus Dinero immediately moved his hands to protect his modesty. It was then that he realized that he was, in fact, completely naked.

"Your clothes were so soaked in sweat I almost just put them on the line as they were," the woman explained. "Kind of a shame to see duds that fancy in such bad condition, but I guess we all make sacrifices for survival."

"I… I can imagine," Dinero admitted.

"We got some extra stuff for you to wear. Nothing fancy, but unless you're looking for a job offer, it'll do," the woman continued. "My name's Daphne, by the way. My partner is the reason you and your granddaughter are still breathing, so thank her when you get the chance."

"She isn't my- where are we?" Markus asked as he got a better look at his surroundings. It appeared to be a trailer home, a luxury by contemporary wasteland standards and was covered in a modest though warm décor. He could hear movement and chatter just outside the wall behind him. This wasn't just some penny-ante settlement. This sounded like a whole ass city.

"Res by the Res," Daphne purred. "Rainy season is just about to start and everyone is here for water, trade, company, and respite. I run a few of my own businesses in town, so I don't really feel like waiting long or answering too many questions, so take these," she threw a white t-shirt and slacks at him, "and get dressed. You have some work to do."

"Work?" Dinero gulped.

Daphne smiled. "Just because my daughter saved your life doesn't mean I'm suddenly running a charity. Between the laundry we ran and the food your girl ate and not to mention, I don't know, saving your lives, you two have a little bit of a debt to work off. And considering neither of you has so much as two caps to rub together, I wouldn't be picky with what I give you."

Dinero glowered at the woman as he looked her over. "….I take it you run a "companionship" service?" he asked.

Daphne took a pose that showcased her best assets. "Whatever gave that away?" she grinned.

"Are you asking me to service your clients?" Dinero asked.

Daphne busted out laughing. Dinero, not finding the humor in the situation whilst he began putting on his pants, waited for her giggling to peter out. "Well, you certainly don't lack self-confidence," she smiled. "You're a bit too… weathered to be a gigolo."

"Ageist," Dinero muttered.

"Hey!" Daphne snapped. "I'm not even forty and I'm considered old for the profession! It's for the young, lovely and stupid! I'm just here to keep the girls in line and balance the books."

"Hmph," Dinero grumbled as he fitted his legs through the holes. "Where's Marcy?"

"Who- Oh, that's her name!" Daphne realized as she smiled brightly. "I put her to work this morning."

"That's-" Dinero stopped as he held his shirt. Daphne went back to stirring the pot on the stove, trying to remember what part of the song she had left off. Fear not the wrath or warlord's wail/ in time their might and strength will fail/ in peace we shall know serenity/ so come to join the dance with-

A surprisingly strong grip forced her against the wall. Daphne looked as the formerly weak and frail old man she had saved from death glared at her in fury. Daphne immediately tried to find her pocketknife as Dinero's hands reached for her throat.

"Hey, Mom, we just got finished with-" A small, tan girl entered the room as she witnessed a man forcing himself physically against her mother.

"Tia, I need you-" Daphne tried to begin.

"Shit, Ma!" Tia interjected. "It's the morning, it's too early to fuck around!"

"WATCH YOUR FUCKING LANGUAGE, YOU LITTLE BRAT!" Daphne screamed back as she shoved off the bewildered Dinero.

"Right, sorry!" Tia apologized. "Anyway, Suz just got done with the brahmin pens."

Right on cue, little Marcy traipsed into the abode, wearing filthy overalls while covered in something that resembled mud but smelled far fouler with a clothespin fastened tightly on her nose. Resting the shovel over her shoulder, she paused to wildly wave at Dinero, who shyly responded in kind.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Daphne screamed. "SHE'S GETTING SHIT ALL OVER THE FLOOR, GOD DAMN!"

Tia turned to look at Marcy. "SUZ! I SAID WAIT OUTSIDE SO WE'D CLEAN YOU! It's gonna be a bitch and a half to clean the floors now!"

"OUT!" Daphne screamed. "BOTH OF YOU, OUT!"

As the children retreated, Tia turned to look at her mom one last time. "By the way, we have a visitor-"

"I'LL DEAL WITH IT LATER! OUT!" Daphne screamed as she motioned to throw the teapot at her daughter. Upon their departure, Dinero and Daphne turned to look at each other.

"…Ms. Daphne, I am so, so sorry," Markus began.

"No, it's… it's alright. I… worded that very poorly," Daphne admitted. "There are certain… predilections I refuse to entertain."

"Right," Dinero nodded. "…Right."

They both stood in silence. "…So, that's Tia," Dinero began. "She seems…"

"She's a sweet kid," Daphne cut him off. "That little spat, it… doesn't represent me as a parent," she lied.

"I believe you," Dinero responded in kind. "Stress can do weird things to people. I'm just glad Marcy is safe."

"Finally," Daphne exhaled. "We haven't been able to get as much as a word out of that kid. Won't even take off the sunglasses."

"She's a strange one," Dinero admitted. "But she's a great kid."

They both stood in silence. "…Right, so I have some things to take care of," Daphne began. Tia is in charge of the laundry. While she gets your girl cleaned up, have some breakfast. We'll have plenty for you two to do," she announced as she set aside her apron. Markus breathed a sigh of relief. After days of uncertainty, he finally found a place to rest and think. It was going to take a while, but he had finagled out of worse situations than this before. With a little pocket money and the right volunteers, he could make some moves, he thought as he poured himself some suspect-looking soup.

"HEY, JACKASS, NEXT TIME READ THE SIGN ON THE DOOR! THE BORDELLO DOESN'T OPEN UNTIL THE EVENING, SO IF YOU'RE THAT LONELY JUST FIND-" Daphne's words died in her throat as she saw the man standing across the counter. "…Cade?"

Cade let out a friendly smile. "Daph."

Daphne felt the goosebumps run down her neck all the way to the small of her back. There were few reasons Cade would be this close to civilization, and none of them boded well for most. "…What can I do for you, Cade?" she smiled, politely.

"I would like to purchase a room," Cade said.

"OK, we can do that," Daphne nodded. "Would you like-"

"Amy," Cade interrupted. "She's here?"

"I need her with some other clients for later today…" Daphne tried to explain.

"She owes me," Cade interrupted. "…And so do you."

Daphne gulped. "Cade, it's been years, I think by now we're square."

"How would Kenzie feel if he knew who killed his brother? How would he feel if he knew why?" Cade asked. "How would Tia feel if she found out why her mom didn't want her daddy around and what she did about it?"

Daphne bit her lip while Cade looked out the doorway. He'd hitched a ride with an incoming caravan as he made his way inside the city, and had spent the early morning listening to rumors of the approaching AEG. Tensions were thick and people were nervous, but the local merchants were eager to fleece any incoming soldier looking for leave. It would also provide just enough cover for Cade to initiate his work.

"You're a bastard…" Daphne hissed.

"You can end this whenever you want," Cade smiled. "Tell the truth and suddenly I have no power over you. But you won't, because as much as you hate what happened, you love where you are too much to throw it away. My room, please."

Daphne handed over the key. "Amy is in trailer 105. I take it you want her appointments canceled?"

"That won't be necessary, but I will need her for later tonight. I need bait and perhaps a distraction," he explained.

"…Cade, what are you planning?" Daphne asked, nervously.

"You don't want to hear the details, I'm sure," Cade smiled. "Don't worry, I won't keep her for long. Got some good news, though. Larain is on his way here."

Daphne's face lit up. "He's alive?!"

"He's with the AEG. I really, really hope he's ready to leave when I get ahold of him or this is going to be very awkward for a lot of people," Cade said as he took the key and departed.

WELCOME TO THE RES BY THE RES!

Howdy, travelers! We hope you enjoy your time in our town and spend your hard-earned caps at our many accommodations! While you're here, however, we'd like to set a few basic ground rules to guarantee everyone's enjoyment of our fantastic little oasis.

Don't abuse the lake. Everyone depends on the water, so illegal dumping of any unwanted substance will be followed up by an immediate expulsion from the town.

Do not utilize fake caps or initiate fraud of any kind during your stay. When you are caught, we will beat the shit out of you.

If you start a fight, end it quick. The winner will be responsible for any collateral damage. The loser better be dead.

Any and all services requested during ones stay must be paid upfront. Refunds will be issued on behalf of whatever policy the vendor has set.

If you don't have the caps, we don't have the time. Check the request boards stationed at most intersections for job availabilities if you are short on caps. We don't do credit, and if you're begging, you don't get to choose.

This message has been sponsored by the Rocky Mountain Exchange. The Market Provides!