Chapter 37: Sojourner in a Promised Land

The Next Day

"Have any of you seen some apparent creepy man with dreadlocks and a trench coat and apparently bright evil red eyes?" I asked the men of my detachment rather out of nowhere now that I think of it, considering John and Savitt were telling Carl and Pat Fleischer about married life.

I felt the eyes go immediately to me and I could feel the confusion in the silence before John said plainly, "Yeah, I've seen him. I know exactly who you're talking about…. He doesn't have red eyes though."

The mental image of the man I had in my mind changed in an instant at those words as I continued scanning the market crowd, only unconsciously looking for the man in question as I replied without thought, "Oh, that might have just been part of Joseph's dream."

I felt amusement in the faces looking at the back of my head, but then I heard Carl say to John from right behind me, "No it wasn't…" I was about to turn when I felt the rest of those faces turn back to confusion and Carl elaborated. "… I saw that guy myself. His eyes were creepy as shit-"

Hearing John swat Carl for me, accompanied by the "language warning" I kept my eyes moving between the faces of so many in the mid-day market.

Carl said, to everyone who listened in either curious, confused, or amused, "Sorry, but you take a look at his eyes and tell me your skin doesn't immediately start crawling…" Then the young soon-to-be-married added to me, "… Joseph still having nightmares about the guy?"

I was about to turn and see how seriously Carl was taking my idle thought but kept looking over the crowds for that man in particular when I heard John say, "I talked to him just the other day. His eyes are completely normal… They're actually a nice shade of brown."

Hearing some of the guards at the gate station stifle laughs, Carl argued back, having almost not even heard John's out-of-the-blue compliment of the stranger's eyes, "If there was anything about his appearance in general that stuck out to me AT ALL, it was those eyes!"

"They weren't red though? Where are you getting this from?" asked John immediately before I felt compelled to step in,

"What was his name?"

A quiet came over the group again, and I could tell that some of that was from contemplation.

Carl said, "Didn't talk about that… Joseph just ran into him the other day, literally."

John then said in thought, "I don't think I asked him that. We just chatted for a minute in line while waiting to get some gecko at that stall by the Trinity Inn over there…. Anyway, what was this dream about?"

I could hear Carl take in a breath like he was about to explain, but knew he was waiting to see if I wanted to, since it was clearly me who had it on the mind. Just as I was about to explain the disturbing dream Joseph told me about last night, a loud voice came from our right;

"Paul, John… everyone else, there you are!"

We all turned and the voice belonged to none other than the giant green humanoid who'd been staying with the other travelers of the market since the rest of the group returned from that expedition out to the Sevieris. Everyone smiled, and the mutant adjusted the grip on his minigun, "I Kings 13:34" that he held under one arm as he leaned on the sandbag barricade.

The others had heard that he stopped by the gate station on the way to see Nathan while I was out, so Granger asked the mutant plainly, "How's Nathan doing, King?"

The mutant replied immediately with a grin on his face, "He's doing alright. When I was speaking to the Constable in town the other day, he said that he'd see what he could do about getting a prosthetic hand for him from Vault City next time their traders are out this way. So, Nathan's spirits are definitely improved now…"

John jumped in, "That's great. I'm sure we can get more of the details from him later, but what are you up to?"

It was good to hear that the Constable was willing to get Nathan a prosthetic from the medical warehouses at Vault City in the far west, but something like that could be another year from what I gathered about that type of procedure. Either way, the King continued, "Me? Oh, I'm just making my rounds before heading out. I've been here quite a while longer than I'm used to, and although it has been an experience to ensure the safety of the Sevieris, I still have a duty to make sure the good father back at my home is alright."

I could hear the sadness in some of the voices behind me at the mutant's imminent departure, and although I was sad too, at the time, I was slightly more amused by the passersby's looks at the 8-foot mutant casually chatting with the men of the New Canaan guard. A few seconds passed, and I began to hear the men getting lifted up one by one and hugged by the giant until I heard his footsteps land right behind me. Just before I could feel myself get lifted up and turned around, I asked the mutant with my eyes on the crowd, "Hey King, before you go, and before you squeeze the air out of my lungs, I gotta ask you something."

I felt the hands stop just before reaching me as he asked, "What is it, Paul?"

I asked, "Since you got here, have you seen a tribal-looking guy in a black trench coat and dreadlocks?"

King Mercy took his place beside me at the barricade, immediately saying, "Yeah, the guy has an American flag symbol on the back of his jacket, and some incredibly creepy-looking red eyes, right?"

Before anything else, I could hear the boys behind me start laughing as Carl said, "Told you, John!" and John protested. The King looked between me, and the others when I said, "Yeah, that's the one. Do you know anything about him?"

The King thought for a second as the others continued to laugh and John bickered with the others. Finally, King answered me, "Not much. I saw him reading on a bench near the refugee village when we got the Sevieris all settled in. Eventually, I approached him, and we chatted for a bit. Said he just arrived in the area but had to head south for something later… other than that?... Oh, I did offer to pray for him… Poor guy had eyes that looked like he'd been swimming in radioactive water without goggles every day for the past year or two."

I didn't know what else to add as the others continued their thing behind us until at last, a group of wasters walked from their congregation by the door to the Trinity Inn and King asked, "Is that him over there?"

my eyes landed on the only person the one in question could have been as all the conversations at the guard station ended abruptly.

I repeated King Mercy's question for John and the other men behind me, "Is that him over there? The guy talking to the trade master?"

Another crowd passed heading towards the rented shacks behind the well, and past three caravans setup along the market road stood two men near the corner of the Trinity Inn. Every other guard of my gate station joined me at the sandbags looking where I was pointing, and just when another couple wasters passed by, John, Carl, and King Mercy all said, "Yeah, that's him."

The other guardsmen like Savitt, Granger, Licus, and Fleischer were trying to see the stranger's eyes, but such a thing was impossible from such a distance, and because the man was turned towards the trade boss. Suddenly, the voice of Licus came from beside me,

"You gonna approach him, LT?"

I could hear the amusement in his question, as well as feel the amusement in the looks of the others including King Mercy, but my eyes remained on the figure and the men laughed when I said without any humor whatsoever, "Perhaps when he's done with the trade master."

King Mercy looked to me, then the rest of the men unsure of what we were discussing before his arrival, but still interested in the stranger as well. All the men knew how irritating the NCR's trade master had been since their trade post was set up between the refugee village and the market, but I said what I said less out of having to deal with the trade boss, and more out of curiosity for what that man and the figure of Joseph's nightmares had to discuss.

As the two talked and between passing people going about their business, at last, I said to the group, "Follow me."

Almost on cue, the second I stepped foot outside the sandbag enclosure of the gate station, the trade master shook the stranger's hand with a huge smile I could see even from the distance, and I heard the footsteps of the guardsmen, as well as the mutant's large footsteps, follow close behind. As I led the way through the crowds, I saw the trade master step off towards the NCR trade post and saw the mysterious stranger follow his departure. After a moment, the American flag symbol draping down the back of his duster was in full clarity, and I led the men and mutant even closer.

I'm not sure what was going through my mind exactly, but I continued to study that flag as we got closer and closer, until eventually, my feet stopped not more than 10 feet from him. I felt the men and mutant standing almost equally distant at my rear, and I took two more steps closer, out of the way of the door to the Trinity Inn when I spoke the first thing I thought.

"Hey stranger, do you mind if I ask what you were talking to the trade master about?"

I heard the men get closer and take places either beside or directly behind me when the stranger began to turn. The first thing I saw was the breathing mask covering his nose and mouth as the stranger turned until he was completely facing me, and then, all I could see was the eyes.

Carl was right. "If there was anything about his appearance in general that stuck out to me AT ALL, it was those eyes." Although I had some semblance of what I would ask the stranger when I approached, I immediately forgot everything when I saw his eyes. How he could see anything beyond the pupilless bright red eyes was a complete and total mystery. Every other guardsman was completely silent, having lost all of their amusement upon seeing the stranger facing us.

After what felt like too long, even though it must not have been more than a few seconds, the stranger asked in a tone deeper than Graham, but somehow even more scarily than him, "Were you speaking to me, sir?"

Another silence before my mind and what I imagined saying on approach took a seat and I answered unconsciously;

"Yes, sir. I-" glancing at the men and mutant to my left and right, I went on, "- we were just curious if that trade master was bothering you… Lord knows he certainly has a way of bothering just about everyone he talks to, us included."

The stranger's eyes went to each of the men beside or behind me. I think. It was honestly hard to tell because of the reasons mentioned. Either way, when I was pretty sure his eyes returned to me, he said in that same tone that made my skin crawl just as Carl described, "He was not bothering me. We were just discussing a problem of his… I hope I have not caused any problems with you all for that."

His words admittedly caught me a little off guard. It certainly wasn't my intention on approach to make the man feel uncomfortable. It then occurred to me how it might look when a half dozen men of the guard and a giant green super mutant with a minigun approach someone for having a conversation with the head of a trading post. I instantly felt all the discomfort leave my person as I attempted to show a more relaxed presence as the strangers' eyes again appeared to go to those of the other guardsmen.

"It's not like that at all, I'm sorry. You're not in trouble or anything. I just…"

The man's eyes appeared to return to me as he waited. I went on. "Don't mind the others here. Some of the guards… and my mutant friend here… have just seen you around the past few days and been curious about what brings you to our gates…" I paused, the rest of the men on my side remained dead quiet, and I added, "… did you come in with one of the refugee groups?"

The stranger's eyes again went to all the other men before returning to me when he let out slowly. "I'm not with one of the tribes… but you can consider me a refugee…"

"No kidding?..." I said during the pause, "… where you from then… if you don't mind my asking of course…"

The man's head lowered for a moment before he raised it up again to meet my expression. "… I watched my tribe fall to the Legion in the far south… found a new home west of the Colorado River… lost that as well. Now… I have no home…"

The pause was so long after that, I wondered what to say, and a brief glance to my left and right showed that all the men, including John, were pretty down about finding so much amusement in the stranger. For the life of me, though, I had no idea what to say. I'd forgotten all about the joking about him and even forgot about his eyes that, even at that moment, continued to look at me in a way I couldn't quite figure. My mind returned to my cause for approaching him after enough silence when I said the only thing I could think at the moment,

"I'm sorry for your losses. I-uh. You're welcome to stick around here as long as you need though. There's plenty of provisions in the refugee village up the way, and plenty of jobs open in the market…"

I wondered what else to add when he said, "I just got a job offer from the NCR trade boss. I don't expect to stay too long…"

At that, I remembered what else I was going to say, "About that. That reminds me. Part of why I came over was to warn you about the trade master. We don't much care for NCR around here, and their presence is admittedly only out of terms with a terrible deal we found ourselves in with them…" I paused, the stranger's face never changed, and I went on, "All I'm saying is to just be careful. That guy's been trying to get our men sent on a suicide mission into White Leg territory, but we keep rejecting him… I just have the sneaking suspicion that he's trying to get others, like yourself, to sign on since we won't have it…. Just thought I'd let you know what you're in for just in case he tried to pitch you some rosy job…"

The man was silent after I was done, and for a moment, it appeared like his eyes were just barely beginning to turn to those of a normal person. For the faintest second, I thought I saw a pupil in his eyes that only ever so slightly looked a shade of brown like John said. I could almost feel my own face about to turn shocked at this discovery when a second later, he said;

"The trade master was clear about the dangers involved in his job. I only said I'd give it some thought… but thank you for the information… Is there anything else I can offer?"

He was kind, I had to give him that, and although part of me wanted to, I couldn't ask him why he was giving my kid nightmares. He was admittedly frightening to look at, not just for a young kid with an overactive imagination, but again, he seemed kind enough, so that was all I had to say. I told the man plainly,

"No, that's it. Nothing else… I only feel I have a duty to give anyone who talks to NCR or their reps here a warning, so that's all."

After another silent moment, the man returned one last look to all the faces to my left and right before saying, "Then thank you again for the warning, but I must be going…"

Without any other thought, I said, "By all means." He nodded, and then he departed towards the NCR trade post and refugee town before disappearing into the crowds.

A long moment passed before I felt the men to my left and right vanish only to reappear directly behind me. Turning to face the men and the tall mutant, they all stood watching me for a moment before Carl said, "See, told you his eyes were red." Immediately following this were John, Savitt, and Fleischer saying at once, "What are you talking about!? His eyes were totally normal!", John added, "He didn't blink a single time, I'll admit that was weird, but his eyes weren't red!'

This argument lasted all the way back to the gate station and long after. I simply didn't know what to think. How it was possible for me and half of the others, including King Mercy to see one thing that creeped us out to the core while others weren't, was a total mystery. But then I thought of how, for the faintest second, I could see the normalcy that the others could. I decided to not let them know what I thought, and the discussion about the stranger's eyes eventually drifted on to other topics of discussion throughout the day.

Everyone was in consensus about the fact that the man seemed cordial enough, and it eventually came out that other members of the guard in other detachments had interactions with the man during the past few weeks. Just as I expected, the mere mention of the stranger immediately caused debates about whether or not the man's eyes were red and pupilless or normal and brown. Nobody was sure what to make of this, and one side would always start accusing the other of making things up. All the while, the stranger would still be seen on occasion buying something from the stalls, speaking to the guards at the NCR trade post, and sometimes even helping out around the refugee village. Either way, life would go on, and the day-to-day would take up the rest of our focus

The Next Day

Narrative Continued by Nathan Porter:

It was nice of Paul and the rest of the guys to come visit me before my official exit from Dr. Franklin's clinic. I told Doctor Franklin that I was fine to at least get up and be able to walk around about 2 days after arrival in the clinic, but I had been confined to bed for nearly six full days, unable to protest. I think Dr. Franklin only allowed my dismissal from the clinic on day six because she got tired of me asking to be transferred to Dr. Stepp's clinic. No offense to her at all, Dr. Franklin is a great doctor, but Dr. Stepp is inside the walls of town, and is the doctor us New Canaanites go to, while Franklin handles wasters, travelers, and the like. It's just a status thing for me (without sounding too pretentious). I just mean, if I can go to the New Canaanite exclusive doctor, I'd prefer to. Plus, I think that's the reason my visitors have been so few and far between. Like, my buddies in the guard were able to visit me frequently, and so was the Constable, and so were Paul and John's families, but I could have been chatting up Mary Hughes and Maya Lukinay. I was like a freaking hero to them along the way after heroically coming to their rescue (with the others of course) while they were stranded at Daniel and the Sevieris' side… I'd have been getting visited every day by them if they weren't too frightened to leave the walls now. That's understandable given all they went through, still though. I might've been coming out of the hospital with a new engagement if I wasn't stuck with Dr. Franklin and her lovely personality.

It was the day of my release. My hand (or where my hand should have been) was completely wrapped in plaster, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, and Paul had just finished telling me about his son's nightmare regarding the weirdo with the dreads and duster, and I was going to tell him and the others about my recent dream (regarding Maya Lukinay and Mary Hughes) when that idea was immediately shot down. So, I only replied, "Carl was telling me about that… so when can I tell Mr. Scary Eyes about Jesus?"

The boys laughed, and all Lt. Young said was, "Today if you see him. You can usually find him at the NCR trade post."

He only said that because he knew I'd avoid that place like a plague if only to avoid having to talk to that trade master. It's like that guy thinks I'm in charge of anything. A week before the trek out to the Sevieris, I was leading a group of the new guys out to do some target practice in the desert when he stopped Me of all people asking me to help him round up… someone…. For a trek to…. somewhere.

Anyhoo, while waiting for the Doctor to give me one last injection for the pain, I mentioned how the Constable had been visiting me nearly every day, and what he had set up was very nice. Paul and the others had heard the gist from King Mercy before he left yesterday afternoon. I think we were all going to miss him, and we silently thought about the next time we might get to see him again when just then, the Constable came through the opening of my patient cubicle. The others turned and their smiles grew when they saw the Constable's as he said to Paul, John, Savitt, Rhynes, Licus, Ramos, and Carl;

"How long y'all been in here? The rest of your boys are waiting! I told you you can visit Nathan, not spend the day with him!"

Lt. Young and the others grinned saying, "Sure thing, Constable," and "We'll see you on your way into town, Nathan."

Alone in the cubicle with the Constable, I heard the clinic lobby door open, and the last of my guardsmen brothers' footsteps left for the outside when the Constable leaned his giant frame on the opening and said,

"Nathan. You'll be happy to know that I ran it over with the caravans, and you're in luck. Mr. Albright's secretary says they are expecting a group of traders from Vault City in the next month."

I couldn't help blurting out, "That's fantastic!-" but then I saw the look on the Constable's face. His long mustache was drooping a lot lower than normal when he said;

"Now for the bad news…" he paused. "I simply don't have anything for you to do for the guard, given what happened to your hand. I truly am sorry son. I can promise you a new hand. Nearly the whole guard has donated to get you a replacement. But when the medical traders from VC get here, they'll have to do the measurements, trek home, create the prosthetic, and then await the next outbound… I'm sorry, but you could be without a hand for six months to one year, and I simply don't have anything for you to do…"

It's exactly as I expected. I gulped, and tried not to act like a sissy as I swallowed what was inside… The New Canaan guard is all I've known for the past six years. I was closer to my friends and commanders in the guard than I was with my own family at this point, and I had no idea what to do, how I'd make friends, or how I'd be received by whatever trade I was going to be assigned until I get my new hand…

Actually, that's incorrect. I knew exactly how I'd be received by the greater New Canaan population. I'd be accepted wonderfully. I'd be accepted so sympathetically and wonderfully that it'd literally hurt. I know I'm not alone in this, but getting so much concern and care from the people in town made so many in the guard puzzlingly nauseous when we're more used to the jabs and loving insults from men of the guard.

I thought back to the day of my arrival in town, and when my stretcher passed by the patrol of Lt. Pryor's men and Loamanoori saw my condition saying, "Serves you right Nathan! There's that Old Testament justice for taking that Quantum I found last month!" The thought of love like that versus the love I'd get from Grandma Smith saying, "I'm so sorry such a poor dear like you went through that in the awful wasteland" when I'm inevitably assigned to the community vegetable gardens was almost terrifying. The horror of getting genuine love from sympathetic people in the greater populous made me ask the Constable with a croak;

"Well, what trade is going to take a one-handed man, Constable?"

He adjusted in place on the door frame before letting out a sigh that told me my worst fear. I was going to go to the vegetable gardens, or maybe the archives. I could at least put seeds in dirt or dust shelves if my hand was gone…

Those fears ended up being moot when he said, "I got you a job in scav. They're setting up an FC Recharger system they found recently, so you can at least hold the toolbox for them while you wait for a new han-"

Immediately, I said aloud, "No way! You looking to bring out those Power Armor frames from storage!?" the man braced himself like I was going to spring on him.

He recovered, and said, "Maybe in a few months. We will just have to see. Also, I'll let you stay in the barracks unless you'd rather move back in with your parents, and on some days, I may even let you help train the new guys if you're up for it…"

At that, I did in fact fling myself at the Constable, and threw my arm and a half around him, saying I'd let my parents down easy later, and "Thank you, thank you! Thank you!"

He said that there was no guarantee that the prosthetic would work, even if the VC medical traders managed to make it here, then back, then here again, and at that point he would have to discharge me from the guard formally. I barely even heard him, I only released my embrace on the giant Constable, swatted him on the chest, gave him a wink, and told him;

"Have a little faith, big chief."

Departing the clinic, and hearing him mutter "Why did I promise him anything," and, "You'd think he'd get some humility after losing a hand and all the blood," all the while.

Narrative Continued by Paul Young:

It was easy to assume that Nathan formally received a nice replacement for his beloved position in the guard if his skipping past the gate station said anything. He chatted with the others by the sandbag as he waited for the next group of traders to be allowed into the town by the boys at the gate operating station. I didn't hear much though, and it eventually came time to round up the others for a last patrol.

As Nathan departed our company and I had the men gather up their patrol equipment, the Constable approached us from the direction of the clinic and halted us. Despite the past days of readjusting after such a crazy trip, and despite the bizarre mood that the rest of the guard was put in by the stranger in the coat, there truly wasn't much to say. And there really wasn't much to say about the orders the Constable passed to me that afternoon after Nathan's departure. After the obligatory questions from the others about Nathan's fate, the Constable confirmed the reason Nathan was skipping away from the clinic despite his still missing hand. It was also here that the Constable gave me the simple orders to choose a handful of men to join and escort a group from scav out to the woods east of town at the base of the mountain.

The order was pretty standard, and although he admitted that he was reluctant to ask this of me, he explained that he was having my men do it because he was still somewhat short-staffed in the experienced men department. Given all the new responsibilities thrust upon the guard in the past year, the decision to enlist new men was still relatively recent. For many months, the Constable, due to faith in his men, and lack of resources from the Elders, decided we could take on all the new roles. In the end, however, it ended up being too much, and so, the bolstering of the guard had only just finished maybe a week before I left to go on that scout to the Sevieris.

That meant there were still a lot of new men from the single men's homes across town who hadn't received adequate training, and based on how stretched the guard was, there hadn't been too many back at home to continue the training.

So, with the Constable's approval, I selected John, Carl, Ramos, and Savitt to join the scav team in their collection of logs for lumber. Since those men were stuck at home while the rest of the men were on the Sevieris expedition, it was only fair that I chose them for the job. The only problem was that the Constable told me he needed three more. Looking at the group of volunteers, I wasn't surprised that none of them leaped forward after the chaotic trip we returned from only days ago. But then, Hansley and Fleischer stepped forward, and so did Licus.

I wasn't Licus stepped forward, given how he was the most outgoing of my "newer" guardsmen, but I was surprised by Hansley mostly, only because he seemed to be the one having the most trouble adjusting to life in the guard at the start. However, that wasn't a very fair assessment since he had slowly come into his own over the months in differing ways.

The Constable then slapped me on the shoulder saying, "Excellent! I'll have more for all you boys back at the barracks later, so just go about your rounds, and we-"

Suddenly, and with the utmost apologies, Carl interrupted, "Wait a minute, sorry for the interruption, Constable, but how long is this scout going to be? I'm getting married in 7 days."

He was right, and I had completely forgotten. Everyone in the guard, and probably the whole barracks knew that Carl was engaged to Jessica Winley, but how soon the wedding was had slipped everyone's mind… including Carl, apparently.

Some of the guards chuckled to themselves about Carl's just remembered life-altering remembrance, and Constable slapped his head saying, "Couldn't have remembered that sooner, Carl?"

Carl said to the Constable, as well as the others chuckling at him, "What!? I keep work at work."

"No you don't," said me, and everyone else in my detachment at that gate station, even though he was much more collected focus-wise than Nathan.

As the others mused about how Carl was going to become the "New Nathan" of Lt. Young's detachment, the Constable settled them all down by saying to Carl, "Scav said they aren't looking to fulfill a big order, so I can't imagine it taking more than four to five days tops… In the event of delays, however…" The Constable paused and looked at me, "Paul?"

Already knowing what he was going to ask, I told Carl, "Fine, Carl, I'll-" Just then, Granger stepped forward with the words;

"If the job is simple, I'll do it. I think my knees will forgive me for it."

I didn't want to have Granger, being the oldest guardsman in probably the entirety of guard, but he insisted, and experience from many other scav escort jobs like that over the years said the job would indeed be a simple one.

Carl, the Constable, and I thanked Granger for volunteering, and the Constable departed towards the gates to town, leaving us to gear up for our patrol.

Again, there really wasn't much to say about the patrol, that evening, or even the time spent with my family after the night watch relieved us of our duties. Between the pregnancy of Michelle, all the chaos around that event, the enumerable scouts I signed up for, the danger faced, the day-to-day of the market, and everything, I don't know what to say. Beyond the night of my return from the Sevieris escort, I especially don't have much to say about my family matters, or about the new relationship I was forming with my eldest daughter and her new baby.

Life was returning to a sense of normal at long last, and adjusting to even the most life-altering situations comes easier when you just live through it. I would return home not long after dismissal from the night guards, but although I have little to say about the development of my relationships with my eldest daughter, my son, my wife, and the crazy year I went through, I enjoyed the normalcy and did not take it for granted.

There is more I can say, and more I will say, and although much of my personal family affairs need little explanation, I would return home to my family and go to shifts with my sons of the guard with a few recurring thoughts that seemed to be whispering something to me. I could not figure out what they meant, if anything, at the time, and not even now in some cases, but those particular thoughts were about two individuals.

Why can some men see the red in that stranger's eyes? Every day since returning from the successful escort of the Sevieris, I would see that man somewhere in the market. Not doing anything sinister, but on the contrary, actually being very polite and useful across the market, refugee town, and NCR Trade Post.

Whenever I was making my rounds with the men, or even when we were assigned to the towers, there would always come a point in the day that I would see those eyes turn my way even if it was just as he was turning towards some trader, or I'd see the American flag draping down that black duster as he waited for a glass of water or meal in the Trinity Inn. I would feel the inexplicable wave of cold in spite of the afternoon heat and be left only with disorganized thoughts as the whispers continued about the stranger amongst the guards of all detachments. The inconclusive thoughts would hover in the background on my walks home, only to disappear as I sat with my family, played with Joseph, read with Hannah, and even helped Michelle with the infant. Those thoughts of that stranger turning would appear only to disappear in fractions of a second during the silent moments with my family.

Then, just like every other night since returning from the Sevieris escort, I'd find myself sitting up in bed for several minutes after the wife and I shut our Bibles and cut the lights. I'd sit there in the dark, my eyes shifting between the crack under the wife and I's bedroom door and the dark clock on the wall across from our bed. The clock would tick over and over again, and I'd sit there, waiting to see if Joseph would knock in seek of comfort about a nightmare, and wondering why I always found my eyes drifting to the little ridge outside the market covered in thick bushes after every occasion I saw those glowing red eyes. Sleep would get the better of me, but my final thoughts before it did would always be about who was camping on that ridge beyond the market, who had been forgotten about, who had been completely silent since the Sevieris job.

A/N: It occurred to me that some of my readers may not be familiar with the reason for my depiction of Ulysses with red eyes in this chapter as well as previous chapters, so here's the short:

When I originally played Fallout New Vegas and Lonesome Road, I did so on Xbox 360. Because Ulysses is a unique NPC who has a unique face model and texture, there is a little-known bug that happens on very few playthroughs, mostly on Xbox 360 from what I read. If you look up Ulysses on the wiki or watch a video, or even play the game yourself, there's about a 95% chance the texture will load correctly and you can see that Ulysses has a pretty normal-looking face beneath the mask, as well as brown eyes... If you're like me however, and the 5% of other players who experienced the texture glitch, you know exactly what I mean when I say Ulysses has one of the most terrifyingly memorable faces and pair of eyes you've ever seen. Completely blank and bright red, I had no idea the Ulysses that was burned into my adolescent mind was a glitch until only recently. Maybe the glitch is more common than I'm saying, or maybe it isn't. All I know is that I will never forget the nightmare fuel that is Ulysses chasing me around a nuclear silo with his flag pole while his hollow eyes burn their way into my dreams.

Basically, I have such a distinct image of Ulysses in my mind created by that glitch that I cannot change it, and thought the idea of having some people able to see one version of Ulysses while other people can see the normal version, was too good an idea to pass up in my narrative implementation. So, whether you envision normal brown-eyed Ulysses or pupilless red-eyed nightmare-fuel Ulysses, the character himself is still a harbinger of doom whose presence amongst New Canaanites speaks only of tragedy to come.