Back on the lonely road to Memphis, Rose took breaks here and there, getting a sense of where she was on her repaired Pip-Boy, reading the book as it told her what else she needed to know on how to survive the situations that were aplenty in the Wasteland.
Attempting to practice her aim, Rose uses her BB on bottles that she found lying in the dirt, and found that she was great at shooting, 8 out of 10 tens, but practice was practice.
Alas, she couldn't practice much on account of the limited ammo her father gave her, and she tries finding more during her scavenging around areas as she made progress.
Expectedly, what she did manage to find was limited, but Rose found bobby pins, which the book told her she would need, some Nuka Cola which weren't great warm, but the caps she kept as she stockpiled at least a hundred.
As Mal and the book warned, not everyone in the Wasteland was friendly, will try to take advantage her at the first chance, and Rose needed to be prepared to flee at the first sign of trouble if things don't go the way she wanted, especially if she didn't feel comfortable fighting.
Having been a teacher since the age of ten, Rose felt like she could handle the situations that would arise in the Wasteland.
She has managed so far.
Though, things can change on the whim as the book said.
"Okay-Dokey," Rose puts on a brave smile as she prepared talking to other people in the Wasteland.
It didn't take long for that to come to pass as she discovered the remains of a caravan having been pillaged by bandits, with one lone survivor.
A man in his late thirties to early forties.
Wore remains of a collared shirt stained with blood and torn slacks.
Blue eyes that were hidden by the sheen of his broken glasses.
He was struggling to move around with blood trickling down his legs when Rose came upon him, having patched his injuries the best he could do with what he had, but it was evident that it wasn't enough.
"Sir!" Rose raised her hands as she tried to show she was no threat to the startled man.
His blue eyes focused on her, he sputtered, "No, not again!"
Afraid Rose was another raider, he tried to ward her off with a broken pipe, before Rose calmed him down long enough to explain that she wasn't a raider.
Lowering the pipe, the man eyed her with suspicion.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Rose stresses as she walked closer to the frightened man.
She could see his blood-soaked bandaged abdomen clearly and his face covered in scars.
"Who are you, what do you want from me?" the man panicky asks.
Touching her chest, Rose calmly told him, "My name is Rose, I just wanted to know if you're okay."
Still eying her with suspicion, the man goes, "You're from the vaults, aren't you?"
Her doe eyes illuminated, Rose affirms she was, and the man remarks, "You picked the wrong day to leave your vault!"
It's been war after war with raiders and whatever semblance of the law was around, that if Rose wasn't lucky, she'll get caught in the crosshair like he did.
"What happened here?" Rose wanted to know.
Sighing, the man explains how he was part of a caravan making its way to West Tennessee, but things didn't turn out, as Rose can plainly see.
Raiders came upon the caravan and killed all but him, he only survived because he hid under the bodies of dead Wastelanders.
Remembering the stimpaks she found, Rose offered them to the man, and he thanked her profusely, before lamenting that they weren't as effective as he hoped causing Rose to ask if there was a nearby settlement, she could help him reach.
Shaking his head, the man answers how there wasn't a settlement within miles.
Seeing how the caravan was picked clean by the raiders and whatever the man found he evidently used, Rose broached an idea.
"Do you think you can handle coming with me?" Rose inquiries.
Looking down at his bandages, the man painfully coughed, "Where are we going?"
Getting another idea of using an abandoned wheelbarrow, Rose began pushing the man back the way she came.
Still weak, the man couldn't fight against whatever she planned, but Rose insists that this was the best chance at his survival.
Miffed, the man worryingly asks, "What do you get out of this?"
Rose didn't know him and obviously, he didn't know her.
Nobody does anything like this without wanting something in return.
Going through the rules of Vault-Tec, Rose saw the confusion on his face.
"You can't save everyone you meet; you know!" The man bitterly told her that Rose was setting herself up for failure trying to help everyone she met, but Rose bluntly said she was willing to try.
Seeing the determination in her eyes, the man recoils in the wheelbarrow before he was asked his name.
"Harold," he meekly said.
Nodding, her tightly bound ponytail stiffly bobbed, Rose exhaled as she pushed the wheelbarrow, "Okay, Harold, I'm getting you somewhere safe!"
Time was of the essence and Rose pushed Harold through the dusty landscape back to the only person she knew that could help.
By the time they arrived, the ponytail had come apart and her auburn hair turned into a frizzled mess.
Her face was latent with sweat and reddened from the sun above.
With her fists, she pounded on the slide door until it finally opened with Mal pointing a shotgun at her face.
In her deep breaths, Rose begged Mal not to shoot them.
Recognizing her voice, Mal barely lowered the shotgun as she angrily asks, "Woah, what the hell's this? What the hell are you doing back here?"
Pushing the wheelbarrow with Harold passed her, Rose informs Mal of what happened, and ended with, "He needs our help!"
Closing the sliding door behind them, Mal echoes with a disdainful, "Our help?"
Rose begged, "He won't make it, please!"
Eying Harold as he weakly eyed back with sharp her amber eyes, Mal asks, "Who the hell is he?"
Rose answers, "Harold."
Doubting that Rose personally knew him, Mal questioned her, "You're helping someone you don't even know?"
Weakly shrugging, Rose answers, "Yeah?"
Sharply, Mal stresses, "Hey, Girl Scout, the Wastelands isn't exactly known for its charity, okay?"
For all intents and purposes, Harold's just a plant for the raiders or worse, he could be a convict for all they care, it's the Wasteland, everyone is out for themselves at the end of the day!
"Please," Rose clasped her hands together as she saw Harold struggling in the wheelbarrow.
Chewing her lips as she tries to think to herself, Mal growls before shaking her head.
"For fuc-Hal!" Mal raised her voice loud enough that it echoed throughout the hallway.
Speedily, the Mr. Handy zoomed in with a curious, "Madam?"
Pointing to Harold, Mal instructs the Mr. Handy, "Prep the medical table."
Unconditionally, Hal obeyed as he went to do just that as Rose pushed the wheelbarrow while following Mal to a cordoned off room with a viewing window.
Hal worked on sterilizing the medical table and the instruments and as it does, Rose and Mal talked.
"Thank you," Rose thanks Mal for reconsidering helping Harold.
Pointing at her, Mal states, "You owe me."
Checking Harold, Rose could see him growing weaker, before Hal came through the door as it proclaimed, "The medical table is ready, madam. The surgeon is prepared!"
It retrieves the wheelbarrow from Rose and pushes it into the medical room while the door seals off.
With its multiple arms it lifts Harold effortlessly off the wheelbarrow and onto the cold slab where it promptly drugged him.
"If he makes it, we'll interrogate him," Mal decided.
Taken aback, Rose sputters, "What?"
Pointing at Harold through the viewing glass, Mal points out, "Raiders are thorough. He'd be the first one dead in a raid."
Having experienced raiders since coming into the area, Mal felt she had a point.
"Automated medical protocol commencing! In 3… 2… 1…!" Hal happily says as it proceeded to perform the necessary medical procedures.
Shaking her head, Rose then pointed out, "I don't think he's a raider, ma'am. Even if he is, wouldn't they have killed him, anyway?"
No loyalty among raiders, all that.
Sighing as she rubbed her eyes, Mal goes, "Fine. Fine. You better be right."
Effortlessly, Hal was able to finish the medical procedures within a timely, but effective, matter as it transports Harold to a medical bed via a gurney.
Mal instructs Rose to take the wheelbarrow away and so she did.
"Now, we wait!" Hal cheerfully says.
With Harold in recovery, there wasn't much else to do but wait.
"Well, any luck?" Mal asks if Rose made progress getting to Memphis.
Shaking her head, Rose admits, "No, I got turned around, plus Harold needed my help so, here I am, again."
Sighing, Mal goes, "Such is life."
Rose remained optimistic as she stated, "But I'm making progress."
Doubt in her amber eyes, Mal says, "Remains to be seen."
Determined, Rose proclaimed that she can it delivered before Mal sarcastically says, "And I'm Queen Elizabeth!"
Sheepishly smiling, Rose gestures, "So… how much do I owe you?"
Her face drops when Mal casually answers, "1200 caps."
Seeing the dumbfounded look on Rose's face, Mal raises her brow as she says, "You think I'm joking?"
Meekly, Rose admits, "I… can't afford that, ma'am."
Bluntly, Mal states, "And I told you."
Gesturing, Rose asks, "Can we work it out?"
Thinking it over, Mal then responds a sharp, "Fine. But your parcel stays here with me."
Raising her hands, Rose sputters, "But!"
Raising a finger, Mal elaborates, "If you do the job and make it back, you'll get your parcel back."
Seeing Rose's face, Mal points out, "Shoulda thought about it before you brought him here. Now, listen up Girl Scout. Here's your job: there's a cave in the southeast from here. Can't miss it, it has some shiny minerals in the rocks that haven't been mined. Hal has the good presence, that there's something useful inside. Don't know what, though, so you better be prepared. Whatever it is, bring it back here. Got it?"
Muttering to herself, Rose affirms, "Cave in the southeast, got it."
And before she asks, Hal can't come with her, since it was needed to tend to Harold, so Rose better has a good aim.
"Good luck," Mal simply said as she held the parcel in her hands.