Chapter Text
The cool Mojave night wind drifted through the mouth of the Novac dinosaur while Craig Boone kept watch over the stretch of 95 that was his from sundown to sunup. Travelers rarely came through during the night. Too dark to see threats. Too dangerous for caravans. No. Travelers were those Manny watched. Boone watched for red. Or at least, he hoped one of those sorry sonsofbitches would wander too far from the river and lighten Boone's magazine of a few bullets. Rather, his main targets these days were the stray gecko or feral ghoul, and even then, maybe once or twice a week.
He didn't see her come up the road. She must have gotten to Novac during Manny's shift. Still, he wasn't expecting her to invade the nest. He wasn't even sure how she managed to get in without the old door squeaking like hell. She was lucky he didn't crack her with the butt of his rifle when she cleared her throat.
"Damnit!" he cursed, "Don't sneak up on me like that. What do you want?"
She couldn't have been any older than twenty, maybe twenty-one. She lacked the hardened look of the women Boone had fought alongside during his service, but the bandages across her forehead suggested she had seen hell and seen it recently.
"I heard there's a sniper nest up here," she said. Her words slurred together, as he'd heard from the unlucky soldiers who'd taken shrapnel or worse to the head, but the tone was sweet. Not sweet enough to charm him tonight, though. "Wanted to check it out."
If she was trying to be funny, she wasn't doing a good job. Boone glared at her.
"You shouldn't be up here. I think you'd better leave."
The corner of her mouth twitched, falling from a smirk to a frown.
"Are you this mean to everyone?"
Boone hesitated. He looked over her face again. The bandages had taken his attention the first time. They were hard to miss. But the scratches on her cheek and neck looked fresh.
"Looks like a ghoul got to you," he said.
She nodded, "Went to RepConn a couple of days ago. For Manny."
"You know Manny?"
"I mean, I do now," she shrugged, "We ain't all that close, just met. Don't think we'll be writin' or nothing after I leave."
"You're just passing through? You aren't from around here, are you?"
"Nah."
Not from here was just what he needed. She didn't know Carla, didn't have any connections to anyone around here. Should could be useful. She could help.
"Maybe you shouldn't go, not just yet."
She crossed her arms and shifted on her feet, "Oh, now you want somethin' from me, huh?"
"I need someone I can trust," he countered, "You're a stranger. That's a start."
The stranger thought for a moment and nodded. "M'kay. Whassa job?"
"I need you to find something out for me," Boone said, "My wife was taken from our home by Legion slavers one night while I was on watch. They knew when to come. What route to take. They only took Carla. Someone set it up. I don't know who."
"Find Carla?" she asked.
"Carla's dead," Boone spat, the words burned his tongue, "I want the sonofabitch who sold her."
"And when I find him?"
Boone pointed to the road out front, "Bring him there. At night. Put this beret on as a signal, so I know you're standing with him. I'll take care of the rest. I need to do this myself."
"I'll see what I can do," she nodded and tucked the beret into one of the many pockets on her jacket.
"Good," he said, "I'll make it worth your while. And one more thing. We shouldn't talk until this whole thing is over."
"Got it," she said, she smiled, "Happy huntin'!"
For three nights, the stranger didn't return. For three nights, Boone stood waiting for her to show with his legion-loving, cock-sucking, wife-selling, soon-to-be-dead, hell-sent, sorry excuse for a neighbor.
On the third night, the stranger strutted out in front of the nest, glancing back over her shoulder and waving Jeannie May Crawford along. Jeannie followed close behind. The stranger stopped on the rocks by the bridge leading into town. She spoke for a moment, pointed to a spot where Jeannie shuffled over, then looked back at the stranger. The stranger put her hand up and said something. Through the scope, Boone made out her mouthing, 'Just wait a second.' She lit a cigarette and offered Jeannie a puff. Jeannie refused. The stranger pulled the beret on, then looked up at the dinosaur's mouth.
Jeannie looked up. Boone let her take the second to realize what was happening, for the rush of fear to wash over her face, to see the glint of the moonlight in Boone's scope.
He should have known. He should have listened. Carla was always right about her read on people. But...but what? It didn't matter now. He didn't listen. Jeannie sold Carla. Now Carla and Jeannie were both dead, and Boone was alive. Still.
The stranger wiped the spray of blood from her face as she walked back to town, flicking the butt of her cigarette down on Jeannie's corpse.
Moments later, she came through the door behind him.
"Here's your hat back," she said.
Boone pulled the beret back on, "So that's it? How'd you know?"
"Did some diggin'," she said, handing him a slip of paper, "Ain't proud of the methods, but the circumferences and stuff."
"Circumstances," he muttered as he scanned over the bill of sale.
Carla Boone. 1,000 caps.
Unborn child. 500 caps.
Jeannie May Crawford.
It was all there in his hand. He had the answer.
It wasn't enough.
Not knowing it was Jeannie responsible. Not her death. Not to say he wasn't happy, he blew the bitch's head off. Just that... Carla was still dead. His baby was still dead.
"It's like them to keep paperwork," was all he could say.
She must not been satisfied either.
"What're you gonna do now?"
"Don't know. Probably can't stay here."
"Come with me!" she said, her eyes lit up, "I got my own score to settle. We can kill some of the Legion along the way."
"What's your score?"
She pointed at her head, the bloody bandages.
"Some fancy fella from the city killed me, almost," she said, "Took my shipment. Y'see, I'mma courier. Gotta take this shiny poker chip to a client. But if I lose the package, I don't get paid. Gonna find the guy who killed me and kill him. Want'm to beg, give me the package back, get paid."
Boone nodded, "Let's go find the sonofabitch and make him pay."
Boone left with his new companion. She called herself Jolene.