What are you?
Those where the words that echoed around Inside Owens head as he looked down at the strange woman that lay on the bed before him. The very same bed he had woken up In not twenty four hours prior.
The night had been long. Very long. The woman's wounds had been more severe then first impressions would let on. But, with some quick thinking, a couple of rolls of bandages, some Stimpaks and a bottle of whiskey, she would survive. At least, to the groups knowledge.
As he continued to mull about in his thoughts, he didn't notice the good Doctor enter the room, and was slightly surprised when a hand came down on his shoulder and gave him a little shake.
"You know, Its not polite to stare at a lady" The aging man said In a joking fashion, before looking down at his newest patient, smiling softly. "What do you think she Is?" He asked suddenly as his eyes wandered over the woman's form.
"I was just wondering that myself" Owen replied, his voice low as to not wake the prone form before him. "She's not a mutant, I can tell that just by looking at her, body is too symmetrical, no defects or abnormalities that comes with the mutation process."
Mitchell raised a eyebrow and looked at the dark haired man incredulously. "I see your memory seems to be coming back"
Owen simply nodded, "Yeah, Its been coming back in fragments ever since we found her, not a lot, but at least I know Its there"
"Alright, then lets assume that with more time you'll regain your memories" Mitchell stated, "Now, back to the subject at hand, are you trying to say she is some kind of alien?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes. She is defiantly not from around here, though, I doubt she is from outer space" Owen sighed, before scrunching his brow In thought, "Even so, she still confuses the hell outta me"
"How so" Questioned Mitchell as he walked around to the front of the bed.
"Well, for starters, the fact that her legs are full of freaking holes. They look natural, but, at the same time they don't. I don't know how to explain It" Sighing again, he looked up at the doctor. "Then there's the fact that she has fur and chitin, which is making me thing she is some kind of mammal insect hybrid, which I think, to be honest, is completely impossible"
He then pointed at her head, or more specifically, her crooked black horn "And last but not least, the fact that she has a fucking twelve inch dagger coming out of her forehead"
"She is so animalistic, I look at her and feel like we just dragged a sleeping Bull into a china shop" He suddenly stood up and started pacing back and forth in front of the doctor. Who, till this point, had remained quiet as the former courier made his monolog.
"But, she isn't an animal" He added
"I know that, how could she be? We found her fully dressed and carrying a weapon" Well, hardly dressed anyway He thought to himself, allowing a half-smirk to grace his features for a moment before it vanished back into a thoughtful frown.
Owen kept pacing, his mind swirling with thoughts. After a couple of minutes, he finally sat down and sighed. "Christ, I just don't know what to think"
"Yeah well, that makes two of us" A feminine voice said behind him, he turned around in his chair to see Sunny standing in the hallway. He smiled at the young woman before noticing her burden, a cardboard box with worn away letters printed on it.
"What's that?" He asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.
"Oh these?" She said, as if noticing the box she was carrying for the first time, "These are just some old cloths for when she wakes up, can't have her walking around all indecent"
Owen nodded before turning back to the bedridden woman. His mind started to spin again, but was stopped short when Sunny began talking, "Just so you know, Trudy down at the Prospector wants to talk to you"
He looked back up at her just as she placed the box of clothing down on the floor, at the base of the bed. "Really? Why is that?"
"Oh, nothing important" Sunny replied, chuckling, "She is kind of like the town mom, wants to meet everyone who passes through"
Owen nodded and stood up, "Yeah, I guess Il get on that, plus the fresh air could do me some good, been cooped up In here for what feels like hours"
"That's because it has been" Mitchell added with a laugh as he wrote something down on a clipboard. The other two in the room laughed quietly while Mitchell simply smirked.
When the snickering died down, Owen took one last look at the woman before grabbing his rifle and pack, waving a farewell to the other two and left the house.
-Owens P.O.V-
The walk to the prospector was short, seeing how It was only across the street. The walk was calming, and the fresh air and warm sun was a welcome change to the good Doctors house. However, when I opened the saloon door, my calm attitude dissipated when a gruff and unwelcoming voice assaulted my ears.
"I'm done being nice" A man shouted from around the corner, "If you don't give us Ringo by sundown tomorrow, me and my boys will burn this town to the ground!"
My eyes narrowed as my hand made its way to the nine millimetre pistol attached to my belt. I pulled the handgun from its holster and held it at my side calmly before walking towards the bar. There, I spotted a dark-skinned man and a middle aged woman glaring at each other, separated only by the bar counter-top.
The man was dressed in a pair of black pants, a white shirt, and a blue jacket along with a large Kevlar vest overtop. His hair was shaved short and his lips were twisted into a angry snarl. Across the bar, the woman, who I was beginning to believe was Trudy, was watching him, her face a emotionless mask.
"We'll keep that in mind" She replied to him, voice dripping with venom, "now if you’re not going to buy anything. Get out."
The man growled in anger before turning on his heel and storming off towards the exit. He passed without noticing me but stopped at the door, his hand brushed against the handle of the revolver holstered at his hip, as though contemplating if he should pull It out and start shooting the place up.
After a couple of seconds, he turned around and yelled towards the bar, "Tomorrow at sunset! Or else!" Before throwing the door open and leaving. The saloon was silent for a couple of moments as I watched the door.
With a sigh, I holstered my pistol and turned on my heel. Trudy was wiping the bar down with a dirty rag, a solemn expression plastered on her face. I walked up to the bar, pulled out a stool and sat. The noise apparently shook Trudy from her thoughts, as when she looked up, her eyes widened as if noticing me for the first time. After a moment, a soft smile replacing her features.
“Well you’ve been causing quite a stir. Glad I finally got to meet you. Welcome to the Prospector saloon.” She stuck her hand out gently, “Names Trudy”
I reached out and grasped the appendage, before giving it a solid shake. Trudy’s grip was soft, yet firm. “Owen” I replied curtly, before releasing my grip and ordering a shot of whiskey.
A moment later, a shot glass full of golden liquid was slid in front of me, which I quickly downed. There was a moment of silence before I asked, “I overheard your argument, what was that all about?”
“Looks like our little town got dragged into the middle of something we don’t want anything to do with.” She replied, leaning up against the bar, “About a week ago, this trader, Ringo, comes into town. Survivor of an attack, he says. Bad men after him, needed a place to hide. We figured he was just in shock, so we gave him a place to lie low. We didn’t actually expect anyone to come after him”
Great, just what I needed “What are you going to do?” I asked, before motioning for a refill. Trudy topped off my glass before answering. “Some of the others, like Sunny, will probably stand up for Ringo if he asks for help, which he hasn’t.” I nodded, “Personally, I hope he sneaks out of town tonight and takes the Powder Gangers with him.”
“Powder Gangers?”
Trudy nodded, “Chain gangs, really. The NCR brought them in from California to work on the rail lines. Problem is, it turns out that giving convicts a bunch of dynamite and blasting powder isn’t the best idea.”
No kidding
“Was a big escape not too long ago. Some of ‘em stuck together so they could make trouble. That’s what we’re dealing with now.”
With a sigh, I downed what was left in my glass as I let the information sink in. Great, bandits with explosives. “Why not just kill their leader?”
At that, Trudy frowned “You mean like murder him? That’s not our way, even if Cobb is scum. He can bluster and threaten all he wants” At my confused look, she said, “Joe Cobb is the bandits leader, the guy that was just here” I made a silent ‘oh’ before asking. “Where is Ringo now?”
“He’s holed up in the abandon gas station up the hill, behind Doc Mitchell’s” She answered, before asking, “Why do you want to know?”
I looked down at the empty glass in my hand, my thumb tracing the rim. “I’m not one to just sit by while good people get hurt. Plus, I’ll be leaving pretty soon, and I don’t feel like getting blown up by some jackass trying to get at my gear” I admitted.
I stood up, reached into my pocket and dropped a couple of caps on the bar. “Thanks for the info Trudy. Il go have a chat with Ringo and see what I can do to help him out” I told the bartender as I made my way to the door. “You’re a good man Owen,” she said softly, before going back to whipping the bar down, “and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise”
I stepped out of the bar and was immediately blinded by the harsh sunlight. “Damn it, damn it, damn it…”
After my eyesight was restored, I made my way down the craggy path through the middle of town. Passing Doc Mitchells, I made my way further down the road until I came up to the gas station Trudy had mentioned to me. The walls were a faded, sickly brown and the two visible windows were boarded up. The place was, for all intents and purposes, a dump. However, as I cautiously made my way forward, I could hear the sound of someone moving around inside.
I knocked on the door and waited, occasionally peeking between the boards. When nothing happened, I considered just leaving. For all I knew, this guy was some crazy, paranoid fuck-wit who would shoot me the first chance he got. I raised my hand to knock again, when a thought struck me.
If he’s hiding, why the hell would he answer a knock on the door?
Shaking my head at my own stupidity, I knocked again. This time louder, while yelling, “Hey Ringo! Open up! I’m here to help!” I paused before adding “Trudy sent me!”
A moment passed, and another before I heard the sound of feet shuffling and something being taken off the door.
“Come in” A voice called from inside, “doors unlocked!”
As I reached for the doorknob, a gunshot rang out in the distance behind me. Looking back, I made sure nothing was attempting to attack me before walking in. As my eyes adjusted to the sudden lack of light, I only had a couple seconds to admire the empty shelves and flaking paint before having the barrel of a pistol being painfully pressed into my temple.
"Don't move"
Called it I stated grimly in my head