Author's note: To user vampwalker709, in regards to your comments on chapter 5, I'm not saying that he couldn't have taken them all on by himself, but having a little extra firepower never hurt anyone. To all of you, enjoy the chapter, and keep those reviews coming.
Amata walked into the room and shut the door. She flipped the light switch next to the door. The lights flickered for a second, and then stayed on, illuminating the room. The room had a queen-sized bed, with a white mattress cover, an olive green blanket, and a couple of pillows. There was a dresser, a (useless) television, and a side table on either side of the bed. She put her bag on the bed, and went into the bathroom. There was a sink, a cracked mirror, a dirty toilet, and a tub. She turned one of the handles in the tub to see if it still worked. The water came out brown at first, but started to clear up.
She heard the Geiger counter on her pip-boy clicking, and she looked at it. The water was slightly irradiated, so she turned it off. She wasn't sure how, if at all, the radiation might affect the baby, so she didn't want to risk it. She then went to the mirror and turned sideways. She lifted up her shirt, revealing her stomach. She looked at her stomach in the mirror. There was definitely a slight bulge there, even if it wasn't that noticeable yet. She went to sit on the bed to get a change of clothes out of her bag.
While she was rummaging, she found a picture of herself and her father. She was ten years old in the picture, and had just gotten her pip-boy. She had an ear-to-ear smile, and her short brown hair partially obscured her face. Her father was crouched next to her, smiling. It was one of the rare times she could remember him smiling. 'Wow,' she thought, 'this was only ten years ago. A lot certainly has changed since then.' She heard the door open, so she put the picture back in her bag. Mark walked in, shut the door, and put his bag on the ground.
"Hey," Amata said, "why'd you stay behind?" "I wanted to see if she knew anything about the guys who shot me." "And?" "They were here, but they left a few days ago. She said they seemed to know one of the snipers that guards the town, goes by the name of Manny. I just came to drop off my stuff, and now I'm gonna go talk to him." "Ok," said Amata, "but be careful. If these guys know him, he may be in league with them." "I'm always careful," said Mark. "Yeah, well, the scar on your face says otherwise." He leaned over to kiss her. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'll be back in a few minutes. ED-E's outside the rooms, keeping watch."
Mark walked into the dinosaur that, in addition to serving as a sniper's nest, also housed a gift shop. There was an old, balding, black gentleman in the gift shop, who Mark assumed was the one who ran it. "Hey there," the man said, "name's Cliff Briscoe. Can I interest you in a Dinky the Dinosaur figurine? I still got a few in stock, if you're interested." "Umm…no thanks. I actually just came to talk to the sniper in the dinosaur's mouth." As Mark walked up the stairs, he thought he heard Cliff mutter something about no one ever wanting a t-rex.
Mark opened the door, and was greeted by a 9 mm pistol aimed at his head. Mark immediately raised his hands and said "whoa, whoa, whoa, don't shoot." "God dammit, don't do that," the man said as he lowered his pistol. "Who are you, and what the hell do you want?" Mark looked over the man. He wore a white t-shirt, camouflage pants, a pair of sunglasses that hid his eyes, and red beret. He screamed ex-military. "My name's Mark Franklin. Are you Manny?" "No." "Ok," said Mark, "my bad. I'll just be going." Mark started to turn around, when the man spoke. "Wait, you just got into town, right? Maybe you shouldn't go. Not just yet."
There was something in his voice that intrigued Mark, so he stayed. "Ok, what's up?" "This town…nobody looks me in the eye anymore. I need the kind of help I can only get from an outsider." "Alright, what do you need?" "I need you to find something for me. I don't know if there's anything to find, but I need someone to try. My wife was taken by Legion slavers one night while I was on duty. They knew when to come. Which route to take. They only took Carla. Only someone who lives here could know that. Someone set it up. I need you to find out who set it up."
"So you're trying to find your wife?" "My wife's dead. I want the son of a bitch who sold her." Mark wanted to ask how he knew she was dead, but he thought better of it. "Ok," Mark asked, "what do I do if and/or when I find this person?" "Bring them out in front of the nest while I'm on duty. I'll give you my beret to put on. It'll be our signal. I'll take care of the rest." Mark looked at him. He couldn't see his eyes, but he knew there must be pain in them. "Alright," said Mark, "you've got a deal." "Good. One more thing. We shouldn't speak again until this is over. No one knows that I know what happened to my wife. Best they never know, or the Legion will be after me next." Mark turned to leave, and as he opened the door, he turned around. "You got a name?" "Boone," was his reply.
As Mark walked outside, he looked at the room that Amata was in. His only encounter with the Legion was in Nipton, but he already knew he despised them. If they took her, he would not rest until he found her. Or, god forbid, if he couldn't find her, he would kill every single one of them, or die trying. He looked at the beret in his hands. It was red, and had a patch with a bear skull and two crossed rifles behind it. Above the skull it said "NCR 1st Recon," and below the skull it said, "The last thing you never see." He looked up and saw Jeannie May locking the door to the lobby. Mark thought it would be as good a place as any to start.
"Hey, uh, Jeannie, you got a second?" "Yes, dear, what can I do for you?" "What can you tell me about Boone's wife?" Mark noticed her tense up. "How should I put it?" she said. "She was kind of like a cactus flower. Real pretty to look at, but you couldn't get close to her. She liked the fast living of New Vegas. I got the feeling she was trying to get Boone to leave with her. I guess she just got tired of waiting. Now, if there's nothing else, I am quite tired. Goodnight, dear." As she walked away, alarm bells went off in Mark's head. She knew a lot more than she was letting on.
As Mark turned the corner of the motel, he bumped into an old man wearing brown rags, and he sported a messy, unshaven face and head. "Who sent you?" he said, "I ain't talkin'. They tried to get me to talk before, but I didn't say nothing then, and I ain't talkin' now." Mark got the sense he was crazy, and backed up, just in case. "Who tried to make you talk?" Mark asked. "Confound it, No-Bark, you let on that you know things. Now they'll come after you, like they came after that lady." Mark decided to pursue this. Even the craziest stories had some truth to them. "Are you talking about Boone's wife?" "I seen it all," he said. "Seen shadowy folk come into his room in the middle of the night. Thought one might've gone into the lobby for a spell. I thought it was cannibals, come to eat us all, but now I know better. It was mole rat men, come up from the underground to steal our women with the promises of riches and all the latest designer appliances. They covet their long hair for wigs because they're all bald themselves." "Thanks for the info, old timer." "If anyone asks, we never spoke."
As No-Bark walked away, Mark began to think. The thing about mole rats was nothing, but people going into Boone's room and the lobby the night Carla was taken, and Jeannie May hiding something, that matched up. So he decided to check the lobby. After picking the lock to the lobby, Mark went in, closed the door, and turned on the light on his pip-boy. In his travels, he discovered that if there was a safe in a place of business, it was probably right behind the counter. He looked behind the counter, and saw a safe in the floor. It was a combination lock, so he put his ear to the safe, and turned the dial until he heard the proper clicks. The safe popped open, and Mark looked inside. There were some caps, NCR bills, a .357 magnum, and a slip of paper. Mark brought the light up to it and read it. As he did, a smile crossed his face. "Got you, you pompous bitch."
Mark had barely put the beret on his head before Jeannie May's head exploded. When he got back to the sniper's nest, Boone asked him, "How'd you know?" He showed him the paper he found in the lobby. It was a bill of sale from the Legion, "selling" Carla and her unborn child. The fact that Carla was pregnant made Mark hate the Legion even more. "Should've known," said Boone, "it's just like them to keep paperwork." He crumpled up the paper and threw it away. Boone took a small bag of caps out of his pants pocket and gave them to Mark, but Mark refused. "Keep them. I had my own reasons for doing this." Boone looked at him questioningly, and then put the caps away. "Ok. I think our dealings are done here," Boone said. "So what are you gonna do now?" asked Mark. "Don't know. Don't see any point in staying here anymore. All I want to do now is hunt Legion." There was a silence between them. Mark could see that Boone was a man on a mission. After all, Mark was on a mission himself. "Goodnight, Boone." Boone turned and looked back over the desert. "Whatever your reason is for helping me…thanks."
When Mark got back to the room, the light was off, and he could hear Amata snoring softly. With the moonlight coming in, he could see she was sleeping on the side of the bed closest to the door, and she was facing the door. Mark took off his armor as quietly as he could, and got into bed with her, facing the same direction. He draped his arm around her and pulled her in close. Almost instinctively, she nestled in close to him. As he smelled her hair, he thought about her and the baby. "I will always come back," he whispered as softly as he could. He then drifted off into a restless sleep.
Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Until next time.