Chapter Thirty-Six: Sore Travel

It zipped back and forth for a few seconds then lingered, suspended in the air before seemingly fluttering about once more. From a distance it looked small, yet it hadn't noticed me and that was all that mattered; I reminded myself of that several times while watching. I'd get close to squeezing the trigger, to take the creature out of the air, but then it'd randomly dart about and my bullet would fly astray and I'd have wasted a shot. So I've been in this almost terse situation where I'd just been watching it fly about for much longer than I'd have ever wished or cared to admit.

Finally, I saw an opportunity and the distinct boom of the hunting rifle going off filled the air and I saw the bullet strike home. The only problem was that it wasn't my target, but a rock and then a tree close to the creature. Inhaling deeply, I let my body relax as I exhaled and took aim once again. By that point, the thing had gotten curious about the impacts and I fired once more and saw one wing practically explode.

The bloatfly swirled toward the ground as it was no longer able to keep itself airborne. From my perch I swiveled the rifle down ever-so-slightly and fired. My third shot rang out and the overgrown insect jerked and came to a sudden halt. The taste of its meat practically filled my mouth as my mind ran wild, but a grumble of frustration drew me from my reverie.

Ignoring the distress behind me, I focused on surveying the surroundings, looking for any other signs of life from up on my perch. This has been the most relief I'd felt these past few days. Kyle insisted on avoiding as many creatures and people as possible, and I thought Anton would back me up and say that was unnecessary, but the jerk betrayed me and actually agreed with Kyle for once. So now I was stuck getting my "fun," as they called it, by shooting at bloatflies off in the distance, and if I were lucky then I'd even find a few other targets.

Sadly, my fun soon came to an end when I shot the last insect; it was furry and small and had six eyes, and I dared not pet it. I moved in with the others just as Kyle had poured a can of beans into a pot and placed it near a fire. It smelled pretty decent, but it'd been all I'd eaten the past few days.

What I wouldn't give for some bloatfly...

The pair would stop me if they saw me head toward the bloatfly, so I had to give up on my dreams of having more of that tasty meat. They looked pale each time, and it was simply beyond me. I just can't understand – now or then – why they'd pass on such scrumptious meat. With their persistence, I eventually had to just give up on tasting anything better than pork and beans.

Today would be different, though, as I pulled out a box of InstaMash and set it beside me after reading the instructions. I then set my own pot beside the fire with some water in it and let it boil. Around the same point Kyle pulled his pot from the flames, I followed suit. Except... I spilled the entire thing into the fire and almost splashed Kyle. I cast the pot into the remains of the fire and called it even, the monster would never almost-harm another being again.

I then had to fish it out with heated cheeks as my traveling companion stared fixedly at me. I cursed as I filled the pot back up with another of my water bottles and carefully set it beside the cinders. Having placed it, I could feel it and the dread that crept through my bones was haunting: the pot was hotter than the embers.

"Well... at least the beans survived..." Kyle sighed, his voice sounded strained; it must have been the best he could give without resorting to anger. I couldn't entirely tell if he was mad or not, but the wispy trail of smoke coming from the cinders was causing enough damage to my psyche without needing to add another.

A snort was the only reply, and soon after a small sigh broke the silence. Kyle started spooning bits of beans, Anton pulled out some sort of hard cracker, and I waited for the water to boil. And I continued to wait.

I kept an eye on my Pip-boy's compass, looking for any red marks that appeared, but even as the water persisted by not boiling, I noticed a slight difference than what I had expected. Two yellow marks and two green, and based on the subtle movements on the compass they had to be coming this way.

Moving toward the rock I'd been using as cover, I braced the hunting rifle atop it and scanned the surroundings. It didn't take long – in part thanks to the compass – to spot the four marks; but as soon as I saw them I sat the rifle down and hopped to my feet with a small grimace. A few wide steps taken at a pace I likely shouldn't have been moving at and I quickly reached the bottom, and a handful more and I soon found myself plopped down in the path of a man flanked by two women in identical armor and leading one of those dual-headed pack brahmin.

The women raised their assault rifles, not to aim at me but brought them ready, and the man eyed me for a moment as he brought his troop to a stop. He squinted as if to make out more detail, and then a half-smile crossed his lips as he mumbled something and the women relaxed. He thrust his arms out to the side in a wide sprawl and laughed, "If it isn't my silent friend, you still live and breathe. That's wonderful news."

Despite his words and jovial sounding attitude, I could see that he hadn't made any attempts to move closer and his guards still looked ready for anything, it'd been plain to see – mostly. I just gave him a weak smile and looked toward the hill a short ways away, just in time for Kyle to have peeked his head to see what the noise was about. I motioned toward him and he returned a small glare before disappearing from view.

A moment later he popped his head back and jaunted his way down the hill, his assault rifle was in his hands and his expression read just how much he'd rather be back with his beans. I fixed him a stare, and he just looked away. Ross, the scruffy faced, faux-bespectacled man just chortled and inquired, "Are you ready to begin now?" He sat in a chair that appeared from... I didn't know where it came from.

I had been hoping for Kyle to understand my intentions and bring my stuff, but, understandably, he didn't. There was only one thing to do. I held up three fingers before I headed back up the hill, straight for my bag. Kyle followed after, but as soon as he got back up top he sat his gun down and sat his rump beside the fire and his bubbling pot of beans.

Lifting my bag with my free hand, I set back down the mound. By that point, Ross' guard had set up a folding table and laid out a little cloth atop it, and placed a second chair on the opposite side for me. Ross, meanwhile, held a cup in one hand and a bottle with a murky liquid in the other. As I walked up, he had set another cup before him and poured a small amount.

"Come, come," he said with a flourish, placing the cup before my seat. "Yes, come and take a seat, enjoy some of this... well, I'm not entirely sure what it happens to be – but enjoy!"

I plopped down in the chair as quickly as I could manage and let the bag rest beside me, and while one hand reached for the cup and shifted it closer, the other pulled open my bag and grabbed my book; something I'd started leaving in an easier to reach spot for moments like these, as I cast a sidelong glance toward the women tensing as I reached into my bag. My book fell atop the table as I made myself comfortable, and with my actual good hand I grabbed at the cup, pulled it toward my nose and gave a sniff.

It was rancid, burning at my senses. I found myself shying away from it before I had the chance to stop myself. Ross' eyes were set on me, he held a knowing look, before he held his own cup up and called a small, "Cheers!" His face fell into a wide smile as he continued to observe me.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked the drink back and let the liquid head right to the back of my mouth where I proceeded to swallow it with as little time as possible to not allow myself a chance to think or taste. Even the faint hints of flavor, if it could be called that, gave hints of fire and poison – that is to say it burned and stung. I don't think I could taste anything for a short while after that. Was this what they called a palate cleanser?

Ross R. Roswell threw his head back in rapturous laughter, he could no longer contain himself as he had just, apparently, seen the funniest thing in his life. He started banging the table with his fist to further express his giddiness, and at some point he casually tossed his own cup behind him, allowing the liquid to spill upon the ground. I knew I'd been juked by that point.

I slowly scrawled a question across my pages and waited for the noise to die down, and I just gave his companions a look and they just shrugged. It took twelve whole minutes before Ross managed to settle down, and I showed him the page. "As I said before, I really don't know what that was. But I certainly wouldn't drink that swill. I thought one sniff and you'd turn it down, I can't believe you actually drank it."

He reached over and grabbed the only cup left, pulled it close and looked inside: I had drained it and he saw as much. "Woah, hopefully that isn't gonna leave ya walking funny or anything. Uh... huh? You feeling alright after that?" I replied with a nod and a shrug, and started to pull some goodies from my bag. "Right to business then. Fair enough," he leaned forward, the air changing around him as he started to look more serious; or as serious as someone wearing fake glasses could.

I, surprisingly, had less to sell than I thought; between not wanting to rid myself of my vault gear, and not having picked up many spare weapons or the like, I ended up not having much that I could look at with certainty and think: I want this gone. I was left with only a handful of things; a switchblade here, a toaster there, and some ammunition for weapons I hadn't found.

I set the items between us, and the bespectacled Ross' hands were quick to grab them for inspection. He adjusted the frames as he studied the toaster and knife, before setting them back down with a smile, "I'll give you fifteen caps for the lot."

Eyeing him, he just smiled back, and I found myself nodding. Whether that was a good price or not, I dared not ask. Somehow, it felt like I was in a lose-lose situation; ask for help and he could easily lie and take advantage, or don't ask and get taken advantage of for not knowing better. He pulled the items off the table and counted out fifteen bottle caps and set them on the table; once he was done counting, he slid them across with a customer service style smile.

He definitely just won...

I dropped the bottle caps in with the rest and shuffled through more of my bag. That was when I saw the record, still sitting within its thin cardboard sleeve. I'd been saving it to listen to with my mother whenever I got back to the vault so she could experience something different, something nice. But with how rough of treatment my bag has been seeing, it seemed like a miracle it hadn't broken already. There's no telling when it could break if it were to stay put.

With a tremble I lifted it out and laid it atop the table. Rosewell's eyes spread wide, as if the sight before him were a fib or just that unbelievable. Like my hand, his voice held a quiver as he inquired, "May I... hold it?" I granted permission and he audibly swallowed and said, "Thank you."

He gingerly plucked up the item and equally as carefully turned it over hand in hand, with a discerning for every detail. After a long pause of his scrutiny, he finally shook his head and looked over each shoulder, turning to the women behind him, "Alex, Brandy, you two can take a seat. Now might be a good time for... uh... a rest, I don't know how long negotiations might go on for."

One of them replied in a flat tone, "We're good."

He murmured a thoughtful sound and said, "Okay..." His eyes landed on me next, and he let out a heavy sigh as if to compose himself, "I'll give you two hundred caps for this vinyl record. It wo—"

His voice trailed off into the background as my mind raced. That was worth two hundred? That can't be right. I jotted down my thoughts and spun the page for his view: There's no way that's worth two hundred, is there? Perhaps getting more would be wiser, but something wasn't sitting right with me about the deal and I had to find out – no matter what.

"Three hundred," his voice sounded desperate and breathy. He grimaced and sighed once again, "This... is something I've been after for a long time. Actually, I was at the radio station the last time we met looking for it; I scouted the place out after your group left, but didn't find it so I thought it was forever lost."

I spun the book around once more: Why are you telling me this? It means you're losing out, right?

"You're... too kind." His face fell into a serious expression, "You know that, yes? That isn't a good thing. Virtue may make the... man, but vice brings them down. And the line between is thin." Ross' hands came together atop the table, "It all comes together, as if two sides of a coin. This dichotomy may be your undoing." His eyes linger over my shoulder for a moment, then return back to me, "Especially with him around."

I steal a glance over my shoulder: Anton is looking down at the fair, his practically trademark smile shining for all to see. Flipping another page around, Ross reads it within seconds: I'll take your advice into consideration. Thank you. But back to the matter at hand, the vinyl record – as you called it – why collect it?

"I'm not going to tell you that." Ross shook his head several times, "Two hundred caps. That's far more than reasonable a price."

I didn't want to rid myself of it, not without my mother hearing it; but something told me I wouldn't see that kind of sale for a long while – if ever. I relented and gave an affirmative nod. Mr. Rosewell spent no time swiping up the record at record speeds and plopped down a small sack, he didn't even bother to open it.

I grabbed it, and just as I opened it I saw the screen on my Pip-boy note the new addition: two hundred twenty-three bottle caps. I raised an eyebrow toward the bespectacled man, but he was paying no attention to me by that point. Instead he was leveling a... well, sultry look toward the cardboard sleeve. I turned and thought it best to not know what he wanted it for.

He cleared his throat, so I chanced a look back and saw that the item was back on the table and he had returned back to his business expression. "Are you, perhaps, headed north?" I affirmed with a nod. "Then I'll have to warn you about a cave only an hour's walk from here; it's said that those that wander inside never return. I believe that to be an exaggeration, but the place is eerie. I visited it once before – I didn't go inside – but I felt chills running down my spine and it felt like something was whispering into my mind."

"Not to prattle on too much, but you should steer clear. You appear to still have a Pip-boy, so just stay away from any cave you come across within a two and a half mile radius from here." Ross exhaled and stretched, "Anyways, would you like to buy anything?"

I flipped through my book to see if what I was looking for was written, but couldn't find it. I dug through my bag for the other book and checked there, eventually finding the phrase I was looking for: Bloatfly meat. I merely pointed at it and cocked my head a little and hoped it'd give off a questioning look.

"Uh... no, I... I don't have any," his voice sounded baffled. With that, he stood from his chair and swooped it up in his hands, folding it and handing it to one of the ladies. "I'd love to stay and chat some more, but I have a delivery to make and really must be on my way. Just look at the sun, I've got to go!"

There was a heavy cloud cover in the sky, and I tried to give the bespectacled man a look but he just continued packing the few things that were out. I eventually had to stand as they took my chair away. Within moments they were moving away and the area looked as if they were never there to begin with, save for one glass bottle of dark, murky liquid. I heard a faint holler from behind as Ross yelled, "You can keep it!"

I placed it in my bag and made my way back to the others, now having an idea on where to go.

-Message In Progress-

This chapter took quite a bit longer to release than I'd have liked. Between not being at my computer for days on end and becoming sick, it was greatly delayed. But I'm glad it's out now. The next chapter may or may not get released this month, I really couldn't say. Normally, I keep a word limit on any given chapter, that way I don't get carried away or lose interest or some such, but this next chapter I'd really like to make sure I get all the events I'd like within it. So I have no idea how much extra time it'll require. Until next time.