Her uncle's words may as well have been gibberish.

Before this, he'd never said a word to her about becoming the next crew leader. Of all the tough, capable people in this crew, why would he want someone like her to take over, someone who'd struggled all her life with social anxiety? He couldn't honestly think she was capable of running the most powerful gang on the West Coast.

Perhaps it was because she was drunk, but she couldn't help herself; a smile broke out on her face, and she started laughing. The thought of her as a crime boss, someone who could scare and intimidate people into submission, was just too funny. She hunched over, covering her mouth with her hands.

"Oh man, that's…that's a good one, uncle."

The laughter quickly died when she noticed her uncle wasn't reciprocating. He was looking at her, his face neutral, like part of him had been expecting this reaction.

"Wait, you're serious?" she asked him.

"Have I ever messed with you, Alexia?"

She tried to recall, but she couldn't remember her uncle ever pulling a prank on her. That just wasn't his style of humor. He liked to tell dark jokes sometimes, but they were always based on truth, and were never at his niece's expense.

Her face turned red. Even if she was drunk, she felt terrible for laughing at her uncle. However, she was also scared shitless to learn that what he'd said had been true.

"But uncle, I…I'm not qualified to lead the Skulls!"

"Not yet, you aren't. But you're making good progress here, Lex," he answered coolly. "I think you can rise up the ranks no problem and become qualified."

"No, I mean as a person," she pleaded with him. "You know how awkward I am around people. There's no way I could be a leader."

"What about that book club you led in juvie? You were a leader then."

Alexia frowned. "That's not really the same as a gang."

"Well, maybe it's not, but you organized that club yourself, Lex. You presided over meetings, planned out all the lessons and assignments, facilitated discussions, and brought all those girls together to accomplish a goal: in that case, getting the prison to read more." He shrugged. "That sounds a lot like leadership to me."

For a brief moment, Alexia started to accept her uncle's compliments. She remembered all the friends she'd had in juvie, most of whom were through either the book club or her GED classes. She also remembered Rachel, her cellmate, who'd encouraged her to start the club in the first place.

"So what you reading tonight, gumshoe?" Rachel had asked her one night, just before lights out.

"Jane Eyre," Alexia had answered.

"Is it any good?"

"Oh, I love it." Alexia had set the book down excitedly. "It's a romance novel, but not the kind that makes you wanna barf. Also, the main girl is kind of a badass."

"Oh, yeah?" Rachel had chuckled.

"Yeah, especially for the time this was written. Jane's fiercely independent, and when she falls in love with this guy, Mr. Rochester, she makes it clear that she'll only marry him if they're equal partners."

"And that wasn't normal back then?"

"It was pretty much sacrilege." Alexia had nodded. "The role of a woman in those days was to obey her husband and crank out as many kids as she could. But I admire Jane because she doesn't care what other people think. Her only focus is on securing a future for herself, while also preserving her autonomy and pursuing the man she loves. It's subtle, but back then, that was pretty fuckin' badass for a woman."

"Sounds fun." Rachel had yawned and turned over in her bed. Her chopped black hair had fallen sleepily over her pillow. "You could start, like, a little prison book club or something."

"Me?"

"Yeah, why not?" Rachel had shrugged. "Every time I look over there, you've got a book in your hands. If anyone's gonna get these girls to read, it'd be you, gumshoe."

"Well, I…I've never led anything before," she'd admitted shyly. "I don't think I have that in me."

"You don't know until you try. Besides, you've told me before that you read books to escape, don't you?"

"That's a big part of it."

"Well, talking from experience, some of these girls could use an escape like that." Rachel had yawned again. "Being stuck in all this concrete and barbed wire all day isn't fun. That's why it feels like a lot of us have these huge sticks up our asses. I'm sure you've noticed that, though."

"Nah, you guys are alright. Well…most of you, anyway."

Rachel had grinned sleepily. "Just think about it, alright? I, like, believe in you and all that shit."

"Yeah. Yeah, I will."

Alexia had closed Jane Eyre and had fallen back in her bed, staring up at the white concrete ceiling. In tutoring the other girls, she'd seen how many of them had struggled with reading. A book club, she'd thought, may not be such a bad idea.

Rachel… Alexia's eyes fell. I may have read more, but she was always smarter than me.

She hadn't written to her old cellmate in about a year. The last she'd heard, Rachel was living with her girlfriend on the outskirts of Lakota Falls, South Yankton's largest city, on the opposite side of the state from Alexia's town.

She was right, too. I could lead a book club. But…Ah, what the hell am I saying? I've gotta stop this before it gets way out of hand.

"Uncle, I-I'm gonna have to urge you to reconsider. I mean, there are probably lots of other people in this crew that would be better leaders than me."

Remus frowned. "This isn't something I'm gonna force on you, Lex. It's not like I'm gonna kick you out of the Skulls if you decline to do this. And you know what? You're right. There are people in this crew who I've worked with for years, people who could probably take over if I suddenly kicked the bucket one day. But you see, I wanted you to inherit this crew for more…personal reasons."

"What do you mean?"

Her uncle was still holding the fedora in his hand. He reached over and gently placed it on his niece's head, but it was too big for her. The brim fell down almost to her eyeballs; she adjusted the hat, holding it up with one hand.

"I've talked about our family history before," he said to her. "However, I realize I've never gone into much detail with you, besides the fact that we tend to be good with weapons. But the truth is that our ancestors also have a long and colorful history of…well, doing bad things."

Remus looked dead serious as he said this. His face was outlined by the city lights below, making him look like a painting in a haunted house.

Alexia gulped. An unfamiliar feeling had taken hold of her, one she hadn't really felt around her uncle before. "Y-You told me before that some of them were gunfighters. Like, back in the Old West."

"Yes, they were. But not the types of gunfighters the newspapers gushed over, the ones who posed for photographs and toured in Wild West shows. No, our ancestors were more of the cattle-rustling, highway-robbing, revenge-killing types of outlaws. Have you heard of John Marston?"

Alexia shook her head. "Who was he?"

"He was a member of the Van der Linde gang, one of the last great outlaw groups around the turn of the century. They robbed banks, trains, stagecoaches, you name it, all across the country, and John Marston was one of its most seasoned outlaws. And, if you'd believe it, he was one of the best to ever wield a six-shooter."

"Did he have my ability?"

"The one you call 'The Zone'?" Remus nodded. "It made him legendary in the Old West. They say he dueled a hundred men in his time and never lost to a single one." He smiled. "John Marston is your great-great-grandpa, Lex."

"Wow…"

Alexia didn't know what to say to this, but she was intensely interested. She wondered why her uncle had waited so long to tell her about John Marston, their gunslinging ancestor from the Wild West.

Maybe he was worried I'd try to emulate him? She frowned. Well, I guess degeneracy runs pretty deep in this bloodline.

"He had a son named Jack, who had those same abilities with guns," Remus continued. "Unlike John though, he lived to old age. I actually got to meet him one time, when I was a boy."

"You met a gunslinger?" Alexia's eyes widened. "What was he like?"

"Oh, he was interesting as hell," Remus remembered. "He was pretty old and sick by then, but he told me all this stuff about his family, being hunted down by Pinkertons, and what happened to his dad…John Marston, he was shot dead by Pinkerton agents, but only after they'd used him to do all the government's dirty work. Jack was the one to find his dad's bullet-riddled corpse outside their family's livestock barn."

"Man…" Alexia trailed off. "I guess there really is no escaping your past, huh?"

"Not when the government sees you as nothing more than a loose end," Remus said soberly. "But Jack Marston, he took matters into his own hands. He eventually tracked down the agent who'd ordered his dad's murder, then shot him dead in a duel. He wrote a book all about it, shortly before he died. I have a copy of it I can give you."

"Yeah, I'd love that." Alexia nodded rapidly. "But…what does that have to do with me leading the Skulls?"

Remus smiled down at his niece. "Y'know, when you were little, I wanted to keep you out of crime. It's not an easy lifestyle, and I didn't make much money doing it. Besides, you were pretty nervous and withdrawn as a kid, and I just wanted to give you the opportunity to do something better with your life…But then I moved here and founded this crew. In Los Santos, I found a city that was a lot like the Old West that Grandpa Jack told me about. A city where anyone, no matter who they are, can become a kingpin."

Remus reached over and plucked the fedora from Alexia's head. He placed it back on his own head, pushing the brim back from his sparkling old eyes.

"We may not be called the Marstons anymore – my dad, Gareth Marston, changed the family's name to Knight back in the fifties, after he went on the run. But some of us still have their ability, this 'Zone', as you call it. So what if we could make this family a name to be reckoned with, like John's and Jack's were back in the day?"

"You…want to start a dynasty?"

"That would be the dream, wouldn't it?" He sighed. "But it doesn't really matter what a decrepit old man wants. I just wanted to give you some context as to why I'm making this offer." Remus pointed out the window at the shining city. "All of that down there…it can be yours one day, Lex. I've done a lot of the hard work already, getting the crew set up. Once you take over, all you'd have to do is keep a sharp eye on things, listen to your lieutenants, and just watch the money roll in. I think you've got it in you, and anything you don't know right now, I can easily teach you. So, what do you say?"

"I-I…"

Alexia rubbed furiously at her knuckles. She realized how nervous she was getting and tried to calm herself down, but she couldn't. Her throat was tight, and despite the room being cool and dark, she was sweating profusely. Part of her wanted to ask her uncle for another shot of whiskey to calm her nerves.

I'm hesitating, she realized. He's offering me the goddamn city, and I'm hesitating.

She knew most criminals would (quite literally) kill for this opportunity. And there she was, stuttering and rubbing her knuckles raw, the collar of her shirt damp as she rocked back and forth on her heels.

Some leader I would be, she chastised herself. Her eyes narrowed. I can't lead the crew. I have to tell him.

"Uncle, I…" Alexia sighed, bowing her head. "I'm gonna have to decline…I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Lex." Remus nodded. Once again, he looked like he'd been anticipating her answer, although the sparkle quickly left his gray eyes. "If you change your mind, you let me know, okay?"

"I-I will."

She was beyond embarrassed. A lump had formed in her throat, and hot tears were dripping down her cheeks.

Goddammit, not now. Please not now…

She broke down into a crying mess. Remus didn't speak as he held her close, letting her cry into his suit jacket, like he'd done when she was little.

"Lex, what's wrong?" he asked her.

"Oh, nothing." Alexia sniffed. "I just embarrassed myself in front of the most powerful guy in the city. Nothing big."

Remus's brow creased. "I have a feeling it's more than that. Baby, you know you can tell me anything. My job doesn't change that."

Alexia nodded. "Okay…The truth is, I'm scared."

"Scared of what?"

Alexia paused. The emotions were complex and hard to explain, but her uncle had a firm patience about him. This had always emboldened her to tell him things she couldn't tell others. She looked up at her uncle, who looked back at her without judgement.

"Scared I'm gonna fuck it up," she told him. "I mean, you spent ten years building this crew. If I take over, I'll just get all overwhelmed and anxious, and I'll burn it all to the ground."

"I don't think so," Remus said. "If I thought you were gonna do that, I wouldn't have made the offer."

"You don't get it, uncle…" Alexia choked back more tears. "I have…really bad social anxiety. Sure, I led a book club in juvie, but I was on meds back then, and I also had some friends to help me out. Here though, it seems like most of the crew hates me, besides a couple of people."

"Lex, you just got here," he said simply. "Even in juvie, you probably didn't make all those friends right away, did you?"

Alexia shook her head. It had taken a while for her to get comfortable enough that she could talk to people, and even longer for her to get the courage to lead the book club.

"Baby, you're gonna have plenty of opportunities to prove yourself over time. And I'll admit, we're pretty insular here – most crews in this city are, if only because it keeps the feds at bay. But if someone puts in the work, we'll accept them. That's why I recommended sniper training, remember?"

Alexia nodded, wiping her nose with her sleeve. She'd always appreciated her uncle's objective way of soothing her – whenever she was overwhelmed by emotion, he'd always focused on the facts, but without giving her unwanted advice.

Remus was rubbing her back, which had always made her feel better as a kid. She leaned into his embrace, focusing on the city outside his window as her breathing returned to normal.

Her uncle sighed. "Look, it pains me to say this, Lex, but I can't fix your anxiety – I'm a criminal, not a psychiatrist. But…maybe we can get you some of those meds you were on. What were they called?"

"It's called Grin," she explained. "Uncle, you don't have to get me any-"

"I won't have to. I think we may already have some here at the compound." He smiled. "Even criminals can get depressed sometimes, Lex. And I'm on arthritis meds, so what I'll often do is organize raids on the local pharmacies, or buy some off the black market. Go to the clinic after we're done here, and they can confirm."

Alexia's mouth hung open. She'd expected the Skulls' clinic would have basic, life-saving meds, but not the antidepressants she'd taken in juvie, the ones that had helped so much in making friends.

I did feel a lot better when I was on Grin, she remembered. And I was on a pretty low dose. I mean, I'd rather be able to feel good without it, but beggars can't be choosers.

"Thank you, uncle…"

"No problem, Lex." He patted his niece's head. "Look, for right now, I don't want you to worry about the whole 'leadership' thing - we can revisit that topic another day. What I want you to focus on in the short-term is conquering this fear you seem to have, this fear that you're gonna do nothing but mess things up. You're going to make mistakes here, so you might as well embrace that shit, baby. Try to get out of your comfort zone, and don't worry what others may think of you, and then maybe you'll see that you can do whatever you set your mind to. You think you can do that for me?"

"I-I think so."

"You only think so?" Remus frowned.

Alexia shook her head. "I know so. I…I'm gonna try to make you proud."

"I'm already proud." Remus bent down and kissed the top of her head. "Don't you worry about me. You just focus on yourself for now, okay?"

"Okay…"

It wasn't very often that Alexia felt safe, especially around other people. However, knowing her uncle was rooting for her gave her frazzled nerves a sense of peace. She stood without talking for a moment, feeling her uncle's smoke-scented warmth as the city lights twinkled below her.

As she descended in the elevator, Alexia gripped the book her uncle had given her: Red Dead by Jack Marston. Alexia couldn't have thought of a more fitting name for a Western novel. Her uncle had also given her a plastic swipe card, which she could use to visit him without the need for an escort.

"Not many rookies have these, Lex," he'd confided in her. "I don't think I need to tell you this, but don't lose it, and don't show it to anyone."

"Got it."

Alexia had stuffed the card into the deepest part of her wallet, a place she knew it wouldn't come loose and fall out from. She was feeling better after talking with her uncle, even if she wished she could've done so without the tears. Something about crying in front of such a rich and powerful man seemed wrong to Alexia, even if the man in question was her beloved uncle.

I'll try not to do that again, she told herself. It's just, I was so overwhelmed with seeing him again after ten years, and then learning he wanted me to take over his crew…

She still couldn't believe her uncle wanted her, of all people, to lead the Skulls, genetics and history be damned. She also wondered why he hadn't told her this earlier, before she'd left everything and boarded a plane to Los Santos.

I mean, I don't have to do it, she told herself. Like he said, I can just be a regular Skull if I want to. He was really just making me a proposal…and I chickened out.

She shook her head, trying to bring herself back to the present. Remus had told her to not worry about this question for the time being, to instead focus on progressing in the Skulls. At the moment, she was still just a rookie, scraping by on menial jobs that no other Skulls wanted to do.

But once she completed sniper training, new opportunities to make money would open up. She could easily cover her rent and utilities, send some money back home, and perhaps have a bit of fun with the rest. She was thinking about dressed she could buy to replace the one Jess had bought her when the elevator doors slid open, revealing the old apartment building's lobby.

Alexia took a breath and stepped out of the elevator, her footfalls echoing in sync with the trickle of an old indoor waterfall at the center of the room. The makeshift waterfall had been chiseled out of black concrete in the shape of the Skulls' logo. Red-colored water seeped from its eyes and its open mouth, collecting in a pool of fake blood at its feet.

A smile crept into Alexia's lips. She never thought of her uncle as an interior designer, but as she looked through the lobby, she saw mounted guns on the walls and a black chandelier above her head, which was adorned with miniature skulls. Of course, there were some unsavory bits as well: also pinned to the walls were posters of naked or semi-naked women, pin-up girls from Pussycat magazine.

Male-dominated crew is right, she thought. Ah, well. At least they're not making me pose for those pictures.

She remembered where the clinic was. Passing under the black chandelier, Alexia came to a small waiting area, featuring a couple of black sectional couches surrounding a television, playing the news. Just past this was the open entranceway to the clinic, and inside Alexia saw what she was after: the pharmacy.

Taking a short breath to steel her nerves, Alexia had walked inside. Most of the injured Skulls had been discharged by this point, but a couple of heavily bandaged figures still lay dozing in their beds. To her right was the pharmacy counter, encased in bulletproof glass. It was occupied by a skinny man with shiny black hair and wheat-brown skin, a similar shade as Doctor Patel's. His back was turned to her, and as she approached, Alexia saw he was playing a video game on a small television, one of the Righteous Slaughter games.

"Yeahh, you like that, don't you? Take it! Take it all!" The Skull inside the pharmacy slapped his knee. "HOOOO, that's right, baby! It's molestin' time for you, and your children, and your grandchildren!"

Alexia gently cleared her throat. The man turned around and noticed her.

"Oh, shit, sorry about that. Didn't see you come in." The man scooted his swivel chair closer to Alexia. "What you need, man?"

Anxiety was festering in her gut and working its way up to her chest. She took another breath, trying to stem the shaking of her hands.

"D…do you guys have any G-Grin?"

"Grin? Pfft." The man waved his hand. "Man, we got everything here: controlled substances, uncontrolled substances, medical weed. But nothing too illegal – the boss likes to keep that shit on the streets. Avoids trouble with the DOA." He wheeled himself over to a cage at the back of the receptionist's area. "What dose you want?"

"A hundred milligrams."

"That it?" The man fetched a box of pills. "You can have more if you want."

"N-no, that's okay…"

Alexia was fully aware how awkward she was being. Unfortunately, social anxiety was a feedback loop: the more aware of it she was, the worse it became. On Grin, however, she'd had a lot more energy to give to her cellmate, her friends, her book club members, and the girls she was tutoring in her GED class. She was hoping it could make her just as outgoing here, in this den of killers and thieves.

The man stuffed the box of pills in an unlabeled brown bag. "So, I'm guessing you're not taking this stuff to get high. What condition do you have?" he asked her, reaching for a notepad. "My mom, Doctor Patel, she likes to know. Helps us determine what drugs we should have in stock."

She swallowed. For some reason, talking about her mental health with a stranger felt wrong. She didn't like to talk about it in general, except with people she knew and trusted well.

However, Doctor Patel had been so nice to her that Alexia felt obligated to help her out, even if her son was a bit of a character. She steeled her nerves, balling her hands into tight fists.

"A-anxiety and depression," she said without looking at him.

"Hmm." An amused smile crossed the man's face as he wrote. "Most people wouldn't admit to that around here. I appreciate the honesty."

Alexia smiled back at him, although she still couldn't meet his eyes.

"Uhh, we do charge a small fee for these," he informed her. "It's forty bucks a pop – cash only."

"S-sure." She fetched her wallet from her back pocket and withdrew a couple of the twenty-dollar bills she'd gotten from Gerald. She slid her money to the 'pharmacist' (Alexia doubted he was actually licensed), and he gave her the bag, which contained about a month's worth of pills.

So, that's an extra forty bucks a month I have to pay, Alexia thought. If it helps my anxiety though, it's more than worth it.

"Wait, hold up…" Doctor Patel's son scratched his chin, which was speckled with black peach fuzz. "You're that girl that got knocked out, right? Had to be dragged out of the fire and shit?"

Alexia hesitated before nodding.

"Duuuude! When they wheeled you in here, they had to spend like an hour cleaning you up. There were all these pieces of peoples' guts in your hair, and when we put you in the bath, the water turned all red and gross, and these chunks of brain floated to the top." He shuddered at the memory. "We got you cleaned up good, though. And don't worry, I-I didn't really see you naked. Well…not for long, anyway-"

"I have to go," Alexia said tersely. She was trying to hide it, but her annoyance with this man was palpable.

"O-of course, of course." The man's eyes lowered. "You need any refills on that Grin, you come see us."

Alexia left wordlessly. She was glad that she'd gotten her hands on some medicine, but the man behind the counter had been a chore to deal with. He seemed like the type of person who just liked to hear himself talk, and Alexia could never understand that. She valued silence and solitude, especially the type that comes with a hunting rifle and a vast, unbroken expanse of grassland.

A cool late-night gust greeted her as she exited the building. She immediately saw her red Oracle parked on the curb; her uncle had called his personal mechanic to deliver it to the compound. Climbing inside, she plopped the book and her medicine in the passenger seat, then reached behind and buckled her seatbelt.

Alexia sighed, rubbing her face with both hands. A massive yawn overtook her as she turned the keys in the ignition and started her car.

"Goddamn, dude, what a day…" Alexia said this out loud now that she was alone. She leaned back in her seat, staring absentmindedly at the yellow streetlights above her head.

She couldn't count how many times she'd almost gotten killed over the past twenty-four hours. She considered herself incredibly lucky to still be breathing, but as Jess had told her, everyone's luck runs out eventually. Even if she wasn't shot or stabbed or blown up in the near future, she may very well be arrested and probably sentenced to life in prison. With how many people she'd killed, no judge would be going easy on her this time.

Alexia shook her head. There was no going back, and she knew it. This was her life now, as exhausting and nerve-racking as it was.

"But…there's some good, too," she reasoned. "I made a couple of friends. Jess seems cool, and so does Damien. And of course, my uncle's got my back, too…" She let out a heavy breath. "It's still a lot, but…hey, at least I'm not doing this shit alone."

Alexia shifted her car into drive. At that moment, the thought of her queen-sized bed in her apartment seemed heavenly.

As she drove down toward Eclipse Boulevard, Alexia reached over, cranking up her stereo as loud as it could go. There were unfortunately no radio stations that played heavy metal. Of the ones she'd heard, her favorite was Vinewood Boulevard Radio. She enjoyed the laid-back surfer vibes the station gave off, and the type of music it played – alternative and noise rock - was loud enough to drown out her anxious thoughts.

"Crawling After You" by Bass Drum of Death rang in her ears as she turned left onto Eclipse. She rolled down her window as the car sped up, and the cool wind blew in her hair and stung her cheeks, forcing her awake as she sped through Vinewood toward her apartment on Alta Street.