Chapter 1 - Shallow Grave, Wellsprings of Kindness
Written by: Photo Anon
—
“~ut I ain’t a fink, d~. … ~ghteen karat run~. … ~rigged~.” a voice echoed.
Jefferson’s eyes shot open, his ears ringing with dreamed of gunfire. His chest heaved as he dry gasped for breath, and his limbs locked painfully. His head was swimming, and he felt like vomiting, even as his throat clenched. He was vaguely aware of another figure, but the inability to breathe seized his attention. A sharp pain pierced his chest and air rushed into his greedy lungs, relieving the desperate burning.
He barely registered what was happening. The sound of someone talking vaguely tickled his ears, but it left him as soon as consciousness did.
That metallic ring, the clack of nail on metal, reverberated in his dreams. A coin flipping over and over. Right as he thought the noise might drive him mad, electrical whirring broke through the haze. He tried to focus on it, the hum of circuits, but it slipped through his fingers like so much…
Sand. It rubbed at his skin, coarse to the touch. It was cold. It engulfed him, seeping under his clothes and in his hair. Anywhere the air could reach, sand soon followed. He closed his eyes, and it filled his nose. He opened his mouth to breathe, and it covered his tongue. He was going to die, buried alive.
He awoke with a start, his eyes unfocused as he struggled to take in what was around him. He wasn’t choking. Never before had he so appreciated the simple act of breathing. He began to settle, the flood of energy quickly abating to an overwhelming fatigue and soreness.
This time, he could hear the voice clearly. “Hey. You’re waking up. Heart rate’s steady this time.” the masculine voice said.
Jefferson looked over slowly, his body too weak to respond with its usual zeal. An older man sat there, switching his focus between him and a heart rate monitor. The room was damnably cold, the blanket around him doing little to keep it out. He tried to speak, but his mouth was dry.
“Here, let me get you some water.” the old man said. He walked out of Jefferson’s vision, becoming a distant hazy blob. Before he could really start to think about what was going on, the figure returned. “I’m going to prop you up. Try to drink as much as you can.” he said, moving towards the bed.
Jefferson felt the world shift as he was lifted up. He gladly drank what he could, the water bringing a deep relief.
“It was touch and go there for a bit. You seem to understand me tellin’ ya to drink. That’s a good start.” he said, setting the cup down to the side.
Jefferson felt a hand grab his.
“I want you to squeeze as hard as you can. Let me know you’re thinking.” the apparent doctor said.
He did as told, not in too much a position to argue.
“Good, good. Son, can you speak?” he asked, letting Jefferson down into the bed.
“Y-yeah. Hurts.” he said.
“Doesn’t surprise the least bit. Can you tell me your name?”
“Jeff.”
“Well, Jeff, you’ve been out for a bit. I’m Doc Mitchell.” he said, moving to sit back down. “I’m going to give you something for the pain. I’m sure you’ve got a lot of questions, but you should sleep a bit more. So try to relax, if you can.”
“Yes, doc.” Jefferson said, letting his heavy lids fall shut. He’d been banged up something fierce to be in this state. Questions did come to mind, but he was lost to unconsciousness again before he could ask them.
—
The next that Jefferson awoke, he found himself still fatigued, but able to move. He pushed himself up and took account of things. That he had all of his limbs was a good sign. He rubbed his face, and a hand drifted up to the pain on his head. Right as his fingers came to shaved hair, Mitchell’s voice interrupted his self discovery.
“Careful. I take pride in my needlework, but taking a bullet to the head ain’t no small thing.” he said, scooting his chair to the side of the bed. “After that, you had a rough infection. It was touch and go for a bit, but you’re still here. So, Jeff, how’re you feeling?”
“Like shit.” he said, squinting to try and see the man better.
“Ah, you need glasses. Let me see if I’ve got a pair around here somewhere.” he said, turning around. It sounded like he was rummaging around in a container of some sort. “Yours are probably up in the shallow grave you were pulled out of.”
“Good to know. Thanks for fixing me up, doc.” Jefferson said. He swung his legs off the side of the bed and waited. “Surprised I survived.”
“You’re not the only one.” Mitchell said, closing what sounded like a drawer. He stood up and walked further out of clear view. “When Victor brought you to my door, half the town thought they were gawkin’ at a corpse.” he said, looking through another container.
“So where am I, anyways?” he said, listening to the room. Mitchell was shuffling things in a box, a ceiling fan was whirring around, and a computer seemed to hum not too far from him. He could make out its shape on the desk, but not much more than that.
“A cozy little town called Goodsprings. You stopped here to rest for the night and were brought to my door dawn of the next day.” he said, stepping back towards the bed. “Here, try these.” he said, putting a pair of glasses in Jefferson’s hand.
He fumbled with the unfamiliar frame, his hands tracing the item and getting a feel before he lifted them to his face. He put them on and blinked a couple times. The room was brought into relative clarity. They weren’t perfect, but it was better than the blurriness. “Well, I can mostly see. Nice to meet you properly, doc.” he said, extending a hand.
“Likewise.” Mitchell said, shaking it. He’d been right about him being an older man. Balding on top with a thick stache on his face. He looked tired, and Jeff wasn’t entirely sure that was because of the doctoring. “Well, let’s get you out of bed. A few weeks sleep is long enough.” he said, pulling Jefferson up.
His legs wobbled beneath him. He gripped onto Mitchell, stomping his foot as best he could. As if it might banish the numbness.
“Let’s get you over to the vigor tester. May be a bar toy, but it’ll still give me an idea of your grip.” he said, leading him over.
—
“So you’re the poor bastard Victor dug up.” a short woman said. Her hair was pulled back into a red ponytail. She was covered in padded leather, a rifle strapped across her back. Sunny Smiles was a local that Doc had directed him to. Nearby wildlife had a habit of wandering into town, threatening the town’s water and people, and she was the hunter that dealt with those problems.
“Yeah. Doc said it was a damn fine bit of luck. Said you helped him out.” Jefferson said, looking around the darkened room. A stone toss from Doc’s was Trudy’s Saloon, a place for shade and drink in this empty little slice of the Mojave. On the left was a doorway to a bar area with booths. In front of him, a billiards table and a jukebox. “Can’t really do much more than say thank you.”
“Yeah, Doc needed someone to keep an eye on you whilst he was busy. I take it you want more than to tell me “thank you,” though.” she said, a knowing smirk curling her lip.
“Yeah. I was wanting to help you out. Get back on my feet. That sort of thing.” he said, taking her in. She was a shorter woman, a latina by the looks of it. Interestingly, she had red hair pulled into a ponytail. Her build was modest, but he could appreciate her rustic charm.
“Yeah, I think I could use some help. Meet me out back in a few minutes.” she said, looking over to a dog by the bar’s radio. She gave a whistle, and the dog jumped up to follow. “Here, talk to Trudy and get a drink. It’s good to stay hydrated. The Mojave isn’t as kind as California.” she said, handing him a few caps. Then she walked out back.
Jefferson leered a moment as he got a look at her rear, well defined in her leather pants. He took a breath and fidgeted with the vault suit he’d been given. His clothes had been torn up in his near-death encounter, and Mitchell was a bigger man than him. Beyond the ill fit, he didn’t like how garish the blue was, how it’d stand out against the sand, but he didn’t have much choice at the moment. He sighed in frustration and walked over to the bar, setting the caps down. “Whatever this will get me… Trudy.” he said, looking to the woman.
The bartender (and owner), the eponymous Trudy, was a middle-aged woman with a motherly aura. She smiled sweetly and reached under the bar, pulling up a bottle. “It gets you a shot and some water.” she said. As she poured, she looked him over. “So what were you doing to get wrapped up in something like that? Ruffians, sure. Even banged up the radio when I got them to pay, but that’s a mite short of murder.”
“I’m a courier.” he said, taking the drink and throwing it back. “They stole the package and left me in a grave. I guess they didn’t want me to tell who took it.”
“Yeah, well, they didn’t do too good a job of it, then. He was a Vegas type: oiled hair and slick. And God above that suit. Black and white checkerboard. Nothing discreet about that.” she said with a frown. “Still, I’m glad you’re alright. By the way, I was hoping to ask~”
The radio behind her went from its crackling, broken music to a sudden screech before it gave out altogether.
“Jesus!” she exclaimed, jumping. “Damnit. Who knows when the next time a trader will bring a radio?” she said, shutting it off. “Guess it was time enough. Been a month since he smashed it.”
Jefferson was quick to speak up. “I could take a look at it. Don’t have any parts on me, but I can see if something’s just come loose.” he said.
“Have at it. Can’t break it worse.” she said, waving it off.
Another whistle broke through the din of the saloon.
“Seems like you’ve got some business to attend to first.” she said. She handed him a bottle of water. “Get out there before she sends Cheyenne to drag you out.” she said, patting his hand gingerly.
Jefferson returned the smile and slid the barstool back. “I’ll see about that radio when I’m back.” he said, walking to the back door.
—
It was the fourth day of daily gecko patrols with Sunny. He’d questioned if they really needed to be done so frequently, but there was consistently something trying to get to the water. Geckos we’re the usual, she’d told him, but she’d seen coyotes, too. Considering it was a desert, he supposed it made sense. They split up today, each of them taking a different well. Sunny was confident he could handle a few geckos, and they could always meet up to deal with something more.
Jefferson tapped his fingers along his rifle. He surveyed the second well, finding it clear for the day. He didn’t see anything at least. Unfortunately, that meant no hide to trade to Chet. He’d have to hope there was something at the third well.
He started the hike, boots treading rocky ground. The sun was brutal here, and he couldn’t wait to be back at Trudy’s. The AC didn’t work too well, but even its meager relief from this heat was heaven sent. Still, there was something to be said for this remote place. The people here had cultivated a series of small plots into the rigid countryside, watering it from the wells. It was hard work, and he could respect it, but it wasn’t for him.
A voice called out from one of the farm plots. “Oh, hey! You’re that new guy. Jeff, right?”
Case in point for why Jefferson was not made to farm. The man was one of the locals, Lucas, a young man who was ready built for hard labor; tall and strong like a Joshua Tree. He was well tanned from long hours under the sun. Sunny had spent a few hours drinking with him over the last few nights. Despite his size, the man was a lightweight, having to bow out after only a few drinks.
“Yeah! You’re Lucas, right?” Jeff responded.
“Yeah. Out here with Sunny, I take it?” he said, setting down the buckets he had with him. “I was just heading to the well to refill. The outer patches are too far for ma.”
“Alright. I was just about to check the well. Feel free to join me.” Jeff said, watching him pick the buckets back up. He wondered if the too small shirt was on purpose or not. He could see what Sunny liked about him, but he wondered if they just didn’t have the caps to get new clothes.
“Well sure. Never hurts to have a partner when out this far. Geckos can come out of right nowhere.” he said, jogging over to catch up with Jeff. “So, things going well with Sunny?”
“Yeah. She’s helping me get back on my feet. Everything feels… off, you know?” he said, looking away from the man and back out to his surroundings.
“I can only imagine. You’ve gotta be a tough little guy to survive something like that.” Lucas said.
“I guess so. Sunny says I shoot pretty well all things considered.”
“She’d be the expert. I’ve seen her make some pretty mean shots.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. There was this one time she set a bottle on a post of the saloon’s back fence. Pretty standard stuff. What we didn’t expect was her hoofing it all the way up to the cemetery. She crouched down and sniped the bottle. Mighty impressive shot, that.” he said, readjusting his grip on the buckets. “So, you’ve wandered in from somewhere. What kind of things have you seen?”
“Huh? Oh. Uh… Well, years back, I saw a desert ranger walk into a bar in New Reno. I was delivering something for my mom to the tender, a friend of hers. And it was a bar, so, you know, kind of rough crowd. The guy walked in with the whole getup; duster, helmet, rifle. This was back when they had just joined the NCR, so it was still strange to see. He talked to Cindy, the bartender, and then it just sort of… happened. I guess one of the tables was part of some gang out east. They pulled iron, and he whipped them out; the two most beautiful magnums I’ve ever seen. Black with some kind of silver lines. Before they could get off a shot, he’d put the table of six down. Then, cool as the shade, he put them away, picked up his rifle, and just left.” Jeff said.
Lucas whistled. “Hot damn. Remind me to never go to Reno.”
“You planning on leaving Goodsprings?” Jeff asked.
“Huh? Oh, no. Just… saying.” the farmer boy said.
Jeff was about to push the point when a scream rang out from the direction of the well. Without thinking, he rushed forward, bringing his rifle to bear. From the path, he’d have to navigate a narrow path down the ten foot cliff. Instead, he charged and leapt from the rocky edge. His eyes narrowed on the situation below. A woman was being attacked by a handful of geckos.
As gravity took hold, he fired down at the first one, catching it in the back. He somersaulted as he hit the ground, carrying him past her.
“What the fuck?!” she yelled out. Distracted by the acrobatics, she left herself open to one of the creatures latching onto her arm. ”Fuck! Ow, ow ow!”
Jefferson swept around and fired off again, hitting the same gecko again, and it flopped face first into the dirt.
The other one not latched onto the woman hissed and charged at him.
Too close for the rifle, Jefferson dropped it and slipped his pistol out, hip firing into the creature. After a few shots, it went sliding into the ground in front of him. He turned his attention to the woman, but found that she had managed to take care of that herself.
Her knife was buried in the gecko’s chest, the thing lying dead as the others on the ground. Its teeth had done a number on her arm, though. She was on her knees, holding it gingerly. “Fuck, it hurts.” she whimpered, kicking her foot against the ground.
Jefferson rushed over. “Shit. Okay. Hold it out. We need to stop the bleeding.” he said, taking off his shirt. The skin of her arm hung loose, cut and torn up by the predator’s teeth. He wrapped it around her arm, ignoring her yelp of pain. “This is going to hurt.” he told her, reaching into his bag.
“Hurt more?!” she said, looking up to her mystery savior.
He pulled the emergency stimpack he had out. “Yeah. It’ll save the arm, though.” he said, grabbing her arm to hold it still.
She instinctively jerked, trying to pull away.
“Hold still, damnit.” he said, yanking her arm back.
“Holy shit! Ruby!” Lucas yelled, sliding to his butt as he came down the slope too quickly. He jumped up and ran over. “Fuck are you okay?”
“Lucas?!” she said.
Using her distraction, Jefferson slammed the stimpack down, the needling piercing her arm. He pushed the stopper down and threw the used med to the side. He let go of her arm, panting after the brief moment of exertion. “There. Your arm should be fine.” he said, looking at her properly for the first time.
“Who are you?” she asked, shying away.
“Oh, Ruby, this is Jefferson.” Lucas said, setting a hand on his shoulder. “He’s the guy that Doc patched up.”
Jefferson crouched there, panting. It was only now that it was hitting him what he’d just done. Everything hurt, his head most of all. His body protested the action-packed few minutes by letting him know he was not recovered from his last great adventure. He slumped to sit down.
“Jeff? Jeff!” Lucas said, shaking him.
“Huh? Yeah?” he said, blinking up to him.
“You dazed out there a moment. You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay, miss…?” Jeff asked the woman.
“Ruby.” she said, rubbing her arm.
“Come on. Let’s get you both to Doc.” Lucas said, lifting Jefferson up.
Jefferson’s legs threatened to give out, but he got his footing. “Wait… I need… Sunny’s rifle.” he huffed, walking over to the discarded weapon.
Lucas leaned down to help Ruby to her feet. “What were you even doing all the way out here?” he asked her.
Her eyes were on the stranger. “I was. I was getting water. For the fields out here. I thought I’d help.” she said, shifting her focus to the gecko that had nearly bit off her arm.
“Well thanks, but you shouldn’t come out here alone.” he said, following her gaze. He grimaced at the gore of the gecko. She’d stabbed it a half dozen times, and the viscera was already leaking. He reached down and got her knife. “Alright. You good to go, Jeff?” he called over to him.
“Yeah, let’s get going.” he said, limping after them.
—
Jefferson left the bar with a stumble and fell into one of the porch seats. Trudy had insisted on a round of drinks after the afternoon’s more than successful patrol. Fixing her radio a few days ago had made her sweet on him. Saving her daughter today had earned him a permanent spot at the bar. For the moment, he was trying to hold down his drink. Maybe he’d drank too much, but he could sort that out in the morning. For now, he was focused on the caps in hand.
He had enough to get what he needed. Food, ammo, and some equipment to last him out in the wastes. The question was where to go from here. He couldn’t stay as Doc’s guest forever, and the town was too small for a full-time hero. He’d have to move on. Vegas would be the obvious choice, but the roads were overrun, which made the northbound I-15 too dangerous to walk. He’d have to go south to Primm. His memory of the few days before being shot was still hazy, but he felt he’d been there.
What was really interesting was that his would-be murderer had to have gone south, too. He knew it was stupid. It’d been a month. Even if he was from Vegas, that didn’t guarantee he’d gone back. Could’ve fled to Reno for all he knew. Still, some small part of him relished the idea of following the trail. It’d be like an old western holovid. He’d track him down, corner him in some seedy dive and~
“Careful now. All that bouncing is going to make ya vomit.” the hearty, worn voice of Easy Pete said. A retired prospector, he’d taken to enjoying the murmur of noise outside of the saloon. He was an elderly black man of solid constitution. A thick grey beard hid his neck, and small tired eyes watched everything going on around him. “Sit still a moment and let your stomach settle. Then you can finish walking up to ol’ Mitchell’s place.” he said.
“Yeah, thanks. I’ll… do that.” Jefferson said, setting his hands on his knees. Pete was right. He was barely holding his drink, much less chasing down some desperado. It had to be the drink talking, and this afternoon was a fluke. He wasn’t cut out for things like that. He sat there for a few minutes before getting up. “I’ll see you around, Pete.”
The old man grunted and took a swig of his own drink, his rocking chair creaking as he relaxed back.
—
Jefferson waited in front of Trudy and Ruby’s home. With her arm still healing, it’d been decided she’d have an escort when going to the wells. Today was his day to lead her around. He looked over at her, watching her collect her buckets from a small shed.
She was a pretty enough woman, if a bit homely. Long blonde hair that trailed down her back was paired with sparkling blue eyes. She was a small woman, apparently taking after her father; overall pretty lithe. She seemed to prefer wearing longer shirts that gave the appearance of a dress over her pants. Today’s was a light blue with a crude flower sewn into it.
“Thanks for waiting.” she said, walking over with a pair of buckets. “And, uh, thanks for this, Jeff.” she said quietly. “I should’ve been more careful. Now everyone’s all worried.”
“You were trying to help with the work. Nothing shameful in that.” Jefferson said, setting off.
“I guess. I just don’t like everyone treating me like a kid. And now mom will always worry every time I tend the fields.” she pouted.
“She’s your mom. She’ll worry every time you leave the house.” Jefferson laughed.
“Yeah? Well what about your mom? She’s worried about you, right?” she threw back.
“Probably not. Haven’t seen her in years, but she wasn’t doing so well.” he said, taking a wide step. His new jeans fit better than the blue jumpsuit, but his sack would still stick to his thigh.
“Was she sick?” Ruby asked, looking over at him.
“Nothing so dramatic. Just, broken. Dad died and she never recovered.” he said. He waved over to Pete as they passed.
“Oh. Sorry.” she said, going quiet a moment. “Dad died after we moved here. It was an accident.” she said, kicking at the dirt.
“Mine took a bullet from a brahmin thief. He was outside of town and just never came home. We were told a few days later when someone found him.” he said. He reached over to rub her shoulder. “We live, we remember, we keep going.”
The two walked in silence for a few minutes. The wind rushed past, carrying dust with it.
“So why are you here?” she asked.
“I was delivering something.”
“What was it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Shot in the head.”
“Oh, okay.” she said, falling quiet again.
He sighed. Part of him wished he was patrolling with Sunny. That at least earned caps. Still, he kept his eyes peeled. “Do you like living in Goodsprings?” he said.
“Oh? Huh? Yeah. I do.” she said, looking over to gauge him. “Why? You wondering if you can stay, Jeff?”
“No, no. Just curious. New Reno is massive compared to this. Don’t really know what you’d do for fun. Guess you get really good at billiards.” he said.
She giggled. “There’s more than that. It’s not a big place, but we get together, drink, talk. I used to sew things for people. And mom would tell Lucas and I stories. Miss Hillsbury would cook sweets with whatever things Chet could get.” she laughed more. “She once confused sugar and salt. Lucas and I ate them, though. Oh! He and dad used to take bullets and they’d make fireworks. Couldn’t do it too often, cause it scares the bighorners. Still… I miss it.”
It surprised him how easily she talked about it. Everyone was different he supposed. Maybe it was the difference of being able to see the body; some closure he never got. “Sounds like everyone has their place. Just need some new people. And with the NCR coming out this way, I’m sure they’ll come.”
“Then I’ll get to be like Sunny. I’ll have to show the kids the town and everything.” she said, looking far off. “She always lived here alone. Mom and dad didn’t like it, but I always liked her. She and I would explore the old houses and around the town.”
“Awful adventurous of you.” he commented.
“Well, it was fun.” she said, punching his shoulder. “Surely Jefferson knows about fun?”
“Heh. I was always a fan of card games; poker, rummy, blackjack, bullshit, war.” he said. “I’d love to show you, but my cards got destroyed.”
She pouted. “I’ll see if mom has any. Maybe the bar had some? It’d give us something to do besides pool.”
“Sounds like a fun time. Let me know. Maybe I can convince Mitchell for some.” he said. He stopped and swept his gaze around. “Anyways, here we are. The well.”
“Oh! Right, water.” she said, setting the buckets down. She moved to fill each with fresh water, pure and radiation free.
Jefferson looked around, watching the ridges for anything to catch them off guard. He tapped his fingers along the rifle. The town was nice; idyllic almost. The worries of raiders, of food, even basic water. They didn’t seem to reach this place. Even if he knew that wasn’t true, that trouble had followed him here, some part of him wanted to believe the story of a little western town with no worries.
“Doesn’t look like there’s anything around today.” he said, lowering his rifle.
“That’s good.” she said, lifting the buckets. “And this is good. Let’s head back.” she said. Their walk back was going to be slow.
He kept ahead of her, taking the occasional glance back that nothing was sneaking up on them.
“You’re easy to talk to.” she said.
“Oh?” he said.
“I don’t know. You listen good and it’s just kind of easy.” she said.
“Well, I’m glad. I’ve enjoyed it, too. Sunny likes to stay quiet. Doesn’t want to spook the geckos.”
“Oh! Should I have been quiet?”
“Nah. Better to keep them away. Less likely you get hurt again.” he said. Less ammo he had to use, too.
She was quiet again. “I wanted to ask… why did you save me?” she said.
He stopped a moment, letting her catch up. “I had to.” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“I heard you scream and I just acted.” he said. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it. His body had moved on its own, almost. “I couldn’t let you be hurt.”
She blushed and kept walking. The buckets were heavy, but she waddled along steady enough. “Well, thank you. I’m glad you were there. I’m glad you’re here.” she said.
“I’m glad to be here. Couldn’t have picked a better place to get shot.” he said.
—
Jefferson wiped the sweat from his brow. Then he leveraged his wrench on this bolt. As things had slowed down with Sunny, he’d taken an afternoon to go find his lost pack. The supplies weren’t much, but he wasn’t going to lose this wrench. As for the bolt in front of him, two hundred years and the desert heat had made this damn bolt stuck, and he wasn’t sure if he could get it unstuck.
“You know, partner, I mighty appreciate you taking a look at my arm.” Victor said, his face screen flashing a wink. He was a large robot that had taken residence in the town some years ago. He was a box on a single wheel with a tv in the center of his mass. A friendly cowboy face, like something out of an old western, played across the screen, and his voice matched it. He’d been the one to dig Jefferson out of that grave and bring him to the doc. He’d gotten some sand jammed in the joint of his tri-claw hand, presumably when he’d been digging him up. “And might I say, you are looking fit as a fiddle, for the rough and tumble you went through.”
Jefferson grunted and 'hupped' as he put his second hand on the wrench. “Yeah, well, thanks for helping me. Fixing this is the least I can do.” He wasn’t too fond of independent robots. Degradation of their circuits often made them mad bastards, and it was worse than feral ghouls when they did. Ghouls didn’t have lasers and armor plating. He braced Victor’s arm against the table and, with all his weight, he pushed down. He thought he felt it give, if ever so slightly.
“Hey, partner, we could ask for some help, if you’re having difficulty. I don’t know when the last time I had that panel off. Must’ve been when ol’ Benjamin still lived here.” Victor said. The fact his face buzzed with the sound of the big tube screen made his smile creepy as hell. “Chet probably has some oil or that Lucas boy might have the arm to get it.”
“Yeah, yeah, Lucas.” he said. He stood to his feet and jumped up a few times, dropping his weight on his wrench. “I’m sure he’d love to help.” He was a local farmhand, tall, muscled, and Sunny kept cozying up to him every time they were at the bar together. “No, I’ve got this. I just need a second… and a drink.” he said. He walked over to the robot’s fridge. “Did Ben leave anything?”
“You know, I never rightly checked. Never really had a reason to.” Victor said, looking down at his arm. “Suppose I don’t have much use of it. Go ahead, partner.”
Jefferson opened the fridge and was hit with a wave of foul odor. He slammed it shot, holding back the need to wretch. “Fuck. Yeah, he left something in there. Ugh.” he said, heaved over. It was then he spotted the handful of bottles sitting next to the fridge, in the space between it and the cabinet. He looked it over and popped the cork off. “Found something else, though. Old Royale whiskey. It’ll do.” he said, taking a few gulps. “Aaah. Fuck. Let’s take a crack at that arm plate. I’m getting that bolt out, God damnit.” he said, walking over. He’d show Victor. Fuck Lucas and this damn bolt. He put his hands on the wrench and stretched his neck. He jumped again and pushed down, and the wrench was sent clattering as it gave way. He stumbled back a few steps, knocking over some assorted scrap, and fell against the wall.
“You okay there, partner?!” Victor asked, his face (and presumably sensors), locked on Jefferson.
“Fuck. Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Where’s my wrench?” he said, rubbing his shoulder.
“I think I saw it scurry on over under the radio table.” the robot said. “Fine work getting that sucker off.”
“Yeah, told you I just needed a minute.” he said, crawling over and grabbing his wrench. “Alright. Now to get the other one.” he said, walking back to the robot.
—
“Saw you working on Victor, Jeff.” Ruby said, bouncing on her heels as he walked in.
“Yeah. Figured it was the least I could do. He got sand stuck in his arm when digging me out.” he said, setting his pack by the jukebox.
“I’ve never seen him let anyone touch him.” she said, moving to sit at one of the tables. “Much less ever take him apart.”
“Really? Seems friendly enough.” he said.
Sunny came from the bar side. “Seems it. Been here longer than anyone else. Him and old man Ben were the first two here. Ben’s the one that repaired the wells some twenty years back.” she said. “Victor’s been here ever since.”
“What happened to Ben, anyways? His fridge was full. So did he leave in a hurry or something?” Jeff said, headed over to the half-wall. “Sarsaparilla, please, Trudy.”
Trudy pulled a bottle from the fridge and handed it to him. “Don’t know for certain. He was gone when I moved in seven years back. Never asked the folk who were here at the time. The Withers have moved on and Mrs. Hillsbury’s passed away a few years ago. I never asked any of them. Didn’t seem polite. It’s like a dog who won’t leave, long after his master’s gone.”
Jeff popped the bottle open and took a swig. “Yeah, well, he’s got some nice stuff in there.” he said.
“You’re not thinking of robbing Victor, are you?” Ruby said.
He waved it off. “Nah, just curious about him. Old man who can fix water wells and has a robot. Makes me wonder if he was Enclave or Brotherhood or something.”
“Huh? If he was what?” she asked.
“Some groups from out west, right?” Sunny said.
“Yeah. You wanna play?” he said as an aside.
“Yeah, sure.” she said. She set her drink aside and started collecting balls.
Cheyenne went and laid in her dog bed by the jukebox.
The song, the ever soulful “Johnny Guitar”, came to an end and Trudy spoke up. “Wait a minute on another song dears. I want to check in with Mr. New Vegas.”
“Can’t ever get enough of that voice, can ya, Trudy?” Sunny snickered.
“He sounds like a nice man.” she said, waving the younger woman off. “And I want to hear about what’s going on. Haven’t had any traders in a while.” she said.
Jefferson noted the hint of worry in her voice. Chet had complained that there hadn’t been any merchants for weeks. “Anyways, the Enclave were some bad guys from back in the day. Kidnapping people, killing others. I didn’t pay much attention in history. All I know is all their power armor didn’t save them from their base exploding. And the Brotherhood are another strange group. They’re some kind of knights with power armor and laser weapons. NCR’s been fighting them for a while. So it makes sense for one of them to wind up here.” he said, racking the balls.
“Knights? Like from stories?” Ruby said excitedly.
He nodded. “Exactly like. Shining armor and all. Never met one myself, but they’re tough as nails from what I hear.”
“I hope I get to meet one someday.” she said, spinning around on the chair. “Big, strong…”
“Like Lucas?” her mom teased.
“No!” Ruby said with a blush.
“Good, cause I’ve got my eyes on him.” Sunny said, chalking up the stick. “So, Jeff, you wanna break? Big strong man?” she said, daintily offering the stick.
Fucking Lucas. Always on about him. “Yeah, yeah. Twenty caps says I win this.” he said.
“You’re on.” she said, pulling out the caps.
Jefferson leaned over the table and lined up the break. He threw his weight forward and sent the cue blasting into the number balls. The break was clean, with enough force to spread the field. Unluckily, nothing went into a pocket. “There you go. Take your pick of stripes or solids.” he said, holding out the pool cue.
“I’m partial to solids.” she said. She took a moment to survey the table before leaning over.
Jefferson loved playing pool. Especially as Sunny’s shot shook her body.
The balls clattered against each other as they took turns walking around the space, wiling away their afternoon on the game. After a while, it was clear that Jefferson was going to make good on his bet. He was three balls up, left only at the eight ball.
“You’re gonna scratch it, Jeff.” Sunny said.
“No, I won’t. I’ve got this.” he said, lining up the shot. The eight ball teetered at the corner pocket, but hadn’t actually gone in. He had to hit it light enough to not send the cue ball careening after it.
Ruby started kicking her legs. “Five caps says he gets it, Sunny.” she said.
“You’re on, Rubes.” the huntress said. “I’ll take both your caps.”
The girl blew a raspberry at the older woman.
Jefferson lined up the shot. He was going to bounce it off the edge, tapping the eight and bouncing harmlessly away. Right as he went to hit it, the sound of gunfire outside stole his attention. He completely missed the shot, sending the cue flying off the table. He threw the stick with the momentum and dove towards Ruby, tackling her to the floor.
Sunny ducked down behind the billiards table. “Who the fuck is that?” she said, keeping her voice a harsh whisper.
Jefferson reached down for the pistol at his hip. “How the fuck should I know?” he asked, rolling to the side and in front of Ruby. “Get to the restroom.” He told her, training his sim on the door. The table would be terrible cover, but he couldn’t retreat to the doorway until she was out of the way.
“Yeah!” she squeaked, crawling up into a run to the bathroom.
Cheyenne was on her feet and growling, keen to the danger.
The half-wall between the dining room and the bar thudded a few times.
Sunny responded with a few thuds of her own. Trudy was ready on the other side. The leather-bound guard grabbed her dog and pulled it besides her. “Shush, Cheyenne.” she commanded.
As Jefferson rushed back towards the bathroom, looking to tuck into the hallway, the saloon door burst open.
“Freeeeeedom!” a boisterous voice said with voracious laughter. “Bartender! Drinks!” he said, striding into the bar. He was a black man with a mean mug and a shotgun in hand. The rough crowd that followed him didn’t look much better.
Sunny and Jefferson kept their positions, looking to each other cautiously. The dog gave them away, though, barking in chorus with the man’s energy.
“Hey, Joe, I think we spooked them.” a ghoul man said, pointing to the two. He was shirtless, exposed muscle and living viscera on display.
“Oh? Well they should stop being such chicken shits.” he said, walking from the dining room to the bar. “We just want to drink. It’s a new day in the Mojave! Slaves no more!”
The others in his group stood cautiously by the door. The entire room was on edge for a shootout.
“Yeah? Is that what all that noise is about?” Trudy asked, raising up with a shotgun pointed at “Joe’s” chest.
He sneered at her. “Fuck yeah it is. Fresh out of hell and thirsty.” he said, puffing out his chest.
“Look, we just want to drink.” a brunette, white woman said. She held her rifle warily, her worry evident.
“Shut the fuck up, Jess.” the first man said.
“No, you shut the fuck up, Joe. I’m not getting shot for this shit.” another black man said. He was exceptionally tall, but lean. Still looked like a mean son of a bitch, though.
“So are you going to pay or are you looking for trouble?” Trudy asked.
Sunny tightened her grip on her rifle, coiled to jump up.
Jefferson had his pistol ready to hip fire through the doorway.
The man named Joe grumbled and pulled out some paper bills. “We’ll pay. Just want a fucking drink.” he said, slamming them on the counter.
“I don’t take dollars.” Trudy said, slowly lowering her gun, but not quite fully.
“Read them, bitch. They’re NCR dollars. None of that old world shit.” he said. He leaned on the bar, enunciating clearly. “Give. Me. A. Drink.”
Trudy grabbed a bottle and set it in front of him. “Everyone, put the guns away. Everyone.” she said to the room.
Sunny grit her teeth and slowly stood up, keeping her rifle low.
The new arrivals slowly put their own weapons away.
“Glad to see we have an understanding. Respect the mothafucking Powder Gangers.” Joe said, looking around for a cap popper. “Where’s the~?”
“It’s a twist-off.” Trudy said.
“So who are you?” Sunny asked, watching as the others shuffled into the barroom.
“We’re the Powder Gangers!” Joe declared again. “Free at last! No more chains. Slaves no more!” He started chugging his beer.
“NCR put chains on us. Made us build their rails. We told them to fuck off.” the bigger man said.
“Yeah, exactly.” Joe said, pointing to him.
“You’re from the prison.” Sunny said. Her eyes narrowed and her grip tightened.
“And now we’re here for drinks.” the woman said.
Jefferson slipped back and into the hall. Ruby needed to get out of the bar; get help. If these fucks picked a fight, three on four wasn’t good odds. Before he could open the door, though, the evident leader of this group called out to him.
“Hey, can’t you read the sign? That’s the bitches bathroom. Unless you a bitch? Get over here. I want to talk to you.” he said, slamming a hand on the table him and his crew were sitting at.
Jefferson took a breath and turned around. He began walking towards them.
“What? You piss yourself cause of a few shots? Fucking pussy.” Joe laughed, earning a chuckle from his table. “So what’s this town got for entertainment? It’s Vegas, right? Gotta have titty dancers or some shit.” he said with a conspiratorial smile.
Jefferson smiled. “No, no. Nothing like that here. You’ve gotta get to Vegas proper for that. This is just a farming town.”
“For real?” Joe asked, confused.
“You said there’d be a ghoullette here, Joe.” the ghoul man said angrily.
“Look, the guard told me Nipton had all kinds of hookers.” Joe said, reeling.
Trudy set down a handful of mugs and bottles. “Can’t read? This is Goodsprings. Nipton is the town south of the prison.” she said, looking them over. She was calm, but none of her usual care came through in this moment. “We’ve got water. You’re free to have some, but no more of that nonsense out front.”
“What makes you think~!” he started to say.
Jess interrupted, “We won’t. Thanks for the drinks.”
Joe looked to her.
The big man looked to him.
“So, early release?” Jefferson said, looking over their outfits. They were emblazoned with “NCRCF”.
“Hell yeah. We fucking showed those bastards that you can’t keep men enslaved.” Joe said, banging the table repeatedly.
The others joined in with whoops and hollers.
“We took over the damn prison. They can go back to California. ‘Cause we’re going to live free in Nevada” he said with a dirty grin.
“Yeah, I see. So what’s that mean for y’all?” Jefferson said. He went to pour a mug, but Joe stopped him, grabbing his wrist.
“I don’t like you like that. Pay for your own damn drink.” he said, looking to the ghoul man.
He grabbed the bottle and began to drink.
Jefferson sat back. He didn’t like this. Where he sat, there was nothing he could do. If they decided to escalate, he was dead no matter what. They knew it, too.
“You know what? Scratch that. Get the fuck out of here. We’re gonna drink. Celebrate being free men!” Joe said, looking to the ghoul again.
The ghoul pushed Jefferson out of the booth.
He stumbled, and caught himself on a stool. He stepped towards the dining room. If he went to get Ruby, he’d just get called out again. He got dragged behind the wall as he stepped by.
“You okay?” Sunny whispered, looking him over.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” he said. “We have to get~”
“Pete’s fine. We’re going to keep playing.” she said, looking him in the eye. “You were going to hit the eight.”
They were going to stay here, keep calm, and be ready to fight if it came to it.
“Alright. Yeah. That doesn’t count by the way. We’re going to start a new game.” he said, playing into the act.
Sunny nodded. “No, you still owe me twenty caps for losing.” she said, backing off.
“Bullshit!” he said, walking to pick up the stick. “There’s no way that counts.”
The banter continued for a few minutes before they settled down. They sat at one of the tables, both ready to jump up.
For their rowdiness and foul language, the group didn’t seem here to pick a fight. They gave Trudy a hard time, but thankfully it didn’t go farther than that. At one point, Jess got up and walked to the restroom. The two sat there anxiously, hands resting on their guns. The moment stretched on, Sunny readying to walk in after here, when they finally heard a flush. She came back out and sat back down with the table.
The hours drew on, and a few more locals showed up, taking their own places at tables and the bar. As the balance shifted, even Joe couldn’t deny the unwelcome air. “Y’all better respect the Powder Gangers. We rule this road now. Primm, too!” he said. With a few more nasty words, the group left.
The room took a collective breath and Trudy ran into the restroom. No one followed after her.
“I’m going to stay out front. Keep an eye on things.” Sunny said, bidding Cheyenne follow. “Get a drink. Get me one, too.”
“Yeah.” he said, slumping on his stool. He languidly rose and walked over behind the bar. He could keep things moving whilst Trudy tended to her daughter.
One thing was for certain it was time for him to leave. The few weeks he’d spent here had been great, but he wasn’t going to die for Goodsprings. It wasn’t that kind of town, and he wasn’t that kind of man.
—
Jefferson sat with his legs dangling over one of the cliffs overlooking Goodsprings. He’d made the decision to leave and had made preparations that morning. He’d cleaned his space at Doc Mitchell’s, thanking the man once again for his extended kindness. Sunny had found out when their usual supply run to Chet’s for ammo had taken longer than expected. and Trudy seemed to know before he told her. Now he was getting ready to tell Ruby.
He’d picked the spot because it let him just leave once he told her. No last hurrah of drinks, last games of pool, or last song on the jukebox. Besides, he’d probably be back some day. No reason to make a big fuss of it. He’d tell her and walk off down the road south. It’d be somewhat dangerous, with the Powder Gangers out and about, but it was safer than deathclaws or cazadors. He was going to have to take the long way around to get to Vegas. He wanted to see the city, and that was all there was to it. That’s what he told himself, anyways.
Ruby stood nearby, throwing rocks at the roof of one of the town’s empty houses. Each would hit the tiling and then clank down the surface to either fall in the gutter or bounce off and back down to the ground.
“Thanks for coming up here, Ruby.” he said, watching her latest rock tumble.
“Thanks for inviting me.” she said. She picked up another rock.
“I wanted to tell you something.” he said bluntly. He pushed himself up, getting to his feet.
“You’re leaving.” she said, throwing the rock. It missed the roof and landed in the chimney. “I’m not stupid. Your bag is full.”
“Yeah. I’m leaving.” he said. “I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”
“I guess you could only stay for so long.” she said, throwing another rock particularly hard.
“I’m no farmer and Goodsprings doesn’t need Sunny and me.” he said.
She stopped. “That’s not why you’re leaving. You’re scared of Joe Cobb and those stupid Gangers.”
“Yeah, I am.” he said.
“That’s stupid.”
“What?”
“Why are you scared of him?” she said, turning towards Jefferson.
“He’s got a team of thugs and stacks of dynamite?” he said.
“And you’re just going to abandon us?”
“You’ll be fine.”
“Then so would you.”
Damn. She had him there. “I want to see Vegas. I want to find the man that shot me.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really.”
“Don’t you lie to me, Jefferson.” she said, stomping her foot.
“I’m not!”
“Then why are you scared? Cause it sure as shit isn’t Joe and his gang.” she said, looking up into his face.
“Because I’m weak, Ruby. I’m not some strong guy like Lucas. I’ve been shot in the head once. I want to live, and I can do that with a lot less fear in a place like Vegas. I’ve seen places like Vegas.” he said.
Ruby slapped him across the face. “You didn’t hesitate when I was being attacked.” she said, tears welling up.
What was going on? He didn’t realize she’d be so strongly affected by all of this. “Why are you so angry?” he asked, stepping back.
Ruby stomped her foot again before jumping up and throwing her arms around his neck. She pressed her lips to his. They were pursed hard, an inexperienced first kiss.
Her weight sent him back and into the ground. He reached up to keep her from falling, his hands landing on her hips. He didn’t realize she felt this way, but he couldn’t say it was bad. He kissed her back.
She pulled back, defiant to the simple gesture. “If this is the last time I see you, I’m not going to be a coward.” she said, reaching down to undo his shirt.
“Ruby, are you sure about that? I don’t think Trudy~” he started to protest, fumbling with her hands.
“Fuck mom. Sunny can have Lucas.” she said, slapping his hands away. “I want this. I want you.” she said, pulling his shirt away and reaching towards his belt.
Jefferson reached up to her hip, kneading at the fabric. He hadn’t expected it, but he was going to enjoy it. He felt himself stir as she got his pants undone and reached down for it. She was a blushing virgin, ignorant to any sort of foreplay. He’d have to show her.. He grabbed at her arm and pulled her against him. “There’s no rush, Ruby.” he said, craning his neck to kiss her. With his initiative, he showed her how to really kiss. Her lips were soft and he felt her surprised breath.
She placed her elbows on the ground besides his head, ranging her hands in his hair. Awkwardly, she tried to push her tongue into his mouth.
He pushed her back, their eager breaths mixing. He reached to her ass, grabbing and squeezing. Stiff jeans made it a bit hard, but they’d be out of the way soon.
“Jeff…” she moaned lightly. Her face was flush, needy.
“Undo your pants.” he said. He pushed at her waistband, unable to get a good grip from below her.
She reached down and undid her pants. It was then the reality of what was about to happen hit her. She slowed down, even stopping. It lasted only for a moment, though, before she got her pants and underwear out of the way. She kicked them off and straddled him once more.
His stiffness pressed right up against her, the bulge in his underpants dampening with her moistness. “I’m going to pull it out now. Okay?” he said, his other hand returning to her hip. He pulled his cock through and pressed his underside to her folds.
Ruby gasped as they touched. “I’ve never…”
“I know. We’ll take it slow. Just grind against it.” he told her. His fingers began to dig into her flesh, grasping lustfully.
“Oh, okay.” Ruby said. She pressed herself against it and started to move. As she got used to the touch, she pushed harder, sliding herself along his length. “It’s… good.” she said, her breath shallow.
His hand slid from her hip down to her inner thighs. He rubbed at the area, daring his touch ever closer to her mound. “Ready?” he asked, twirling a finger in her pubic hair.
She nodded, biting her lip. “Uh-huh.” she murmured, lifting herself up. She put his head against her entrance. She took a breath, bouncing a few times before pushing down.
Jefferson kept his hips still, giving her a moment to adjust to the sensation. She was tight, with a certain rigidity to everything. “Try to relax, Ruby.” he said, running his hands along her hips.
“Y-yeah. I’ll try.” she said, holding her breath as she pushed down further. As she hit the bottom, she took a few uncomfortable breaths. “It’s weird.” she said, moving slowly as she started to lift herself back up.
“I can take the lead?” he suggested.
“No. I just need to… do it.” she said, pushing herself to move faster. After a few minutes, she got into the rhythm, bouncing along his length with some confidence.
Jefferson moaned as she rode him. He looked up at her, covered breasts jiggling with every movement. He started to buck his hips as she came down.
Ruby gasped as he reached deeper in with their tandem action. “Fuck. It’s starting to feel good.” she said, reaching up to play with her breast. She was panting lightly, her breaths hitching.
Jefferson felt it, too, the pleasure of this moment. He kept thrusting within her, every inch buried within her tightness. “I’m not sure how long I’ll last.” he told her.
“Keep going.” she said, groaning as they got faster.
His hand slid up to her hip, pulling. “Come down here.”
She leaned down, her cowgirl becoming a bit awkward and stilted.
His hand reached up, pulling her into another kiss. He rubbed at the back of her neck, his thumb playing with her hair. Their lips together, her pussy trying to wring him, he couldn’t take much more of it. He grunted into her mouth as he threw his hips a few more times. His balls clenched and he unleashed within her.
Ruby moaned and shuddered as she went over the edge with him. She pressed her body to his, rolling her hips with the waning high.
They laid there for minutes after, his length sheathed within her. They kept their embrace, enjoying the tingling and smack of lips. Eventually, she broke it off.
“I’m going to miss you, Jeff.” she said, laying her head against him.
His hand rubbed at her back. “I’ll… miss you, too.” he said. Their sudden romance aside, he would. Goodsprings had felt like a place he could call home, that he could stay here and live out these days playing pool and guarding the farms. “I’ll come back someday.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” she said, leaning up to kiss him again. “We should get dressed.” she said, pulling off of him.
—
Jefferson adjusted the straps on his armor as he walked down the trails along the wells. He’d likely run into the danger of geckos or coyotes, but he’d handled that before. He wasn’t keen to follow the road and face the Powder Gangers. No, he’d go past Joe Cobb’s gang. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stop in Primm safely. If the Gangers had taken over that place, too, he’d have to continue on. Still, he knew that he had to get to Vegas. Something was calling him there, and he had to know what it was.
—
[-- NEW PERK --]
—
“I don’t know what went wrong, Klein. I double checked the calculations before~” a nasally voice said through a tinny speaker.
A buzz of static interrupted.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Eight, I’ve boosted the signal strength. The signal can’t get any stronger.”
“IMBECILES. O, EIGHT, I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU’VE LOST OUR ONE CHANCE TO DEFEAT MOBIUS.” a third voice boomed over the others. “HOW WILL WE TELEPORT INTO THE FORBIDDEN ZONE NOW?!”
“Dr. Klein,” a feminine voice said, “We received an image from the satellite before losing contact with it.”
“Then we must seize the opportunity to learn all we can about the plots of Mobius!” a final, fatherly voice said. “What does the image show, Dala? Is Mobius creating new roboscorpions? Cavorting with communist spies!?”
“SHUT UP, BOROUS. HOW CAN DALA TELL US WHAT IS IN THE IMAGE WITH YOUR INCESSANT RAMBLINGS?! DALA. TELL US WHAT IS IN THE IMAGE.”
“It is hard to tell, Dr. Klein, but it looks like one of my adorable teddy bears.” she said.
The five figures crowded around a singular monitor, looking intently at it. The image was faded, cracked, and blurry. Despite the failing technology, the appearance of a humanoid figure could be made out in the image.
“By science, Dala.” the first voice said reverently. “It must have landed on the moon. We found aliens!”
—
|--- CHANGELOG ---|
22 Jul 2023 -
- Release
22 Jul 2023 -
- Added the Logo
28 Jul 2023 -
- Added Scene: Jefferson and Ruby walking to the well.
- Added Detail: Added detail to Sunny's introduction
- Added Detail: Added detail to billiards scene; Trudy likes listening to Radio New Vegas
- Added Extra: End of chapter now has a "New Perk" section as a small flavor bit.
- Added Scene: Mysterious voices discuss a satellite.
28 Jul 2023 -
- Added Changelog
- Added Authorial Credit
29 Jul 2023 -
- General: Grammatical corrections.