Status: will be updated every few days
Just Another Wastelander
3
The next morning as we were walking down the crumbling road, we stumbled upon an NCR camp. Or what I thought was an NCR camp anyway. Kyle began to draw his sniper rifle.
"Wait, but isn't that the NCR?" I asked, confused. The wooden towers were still down the road, and I wasn't farsighted, but I could barely make out a person standing watch up there. Three more sat at a table inside the chain-link fence.
Kyle snorted. "You'd know if it was the NCR. Their flags would be waving in the air, they'd have painted the bear on their walls. No, these are raiders. Can't you tell?" He aimed down the sights, and held his breath, then pulled the trigger. The raider on watch slumped to the floor, and the others sprang to their feet, readying their weapons.
"Get 'em boy," I said, patting Dogmeat on his shoulder. The dog barked happily, and sped down the road, leaping the chain fence to tackle one of the raiders.
A man pointed at us and shouted as we came to Dogmeat's aid, and raised his 9mm smg.
"I got him," Butch waved us the other way to take out the others. That left one for me, and one for Kyle.
A woman with a mohawk came out the door of a little shack, a baseball bat covered with barbed wire was in her hand. Through the sights of the hunting rifle, I took her head clean off. The recoil caught me by surprise, though. I'd been used to using a pistol up until now. The blood splattered my new armor, but that wasn't anything new to me.
"I didn't even waste a bullet!" Butch grinned, the silver on his cowboy repeater was crimson now. "These guys are so slow, seriously. Just roll across the ground to avoid their bullshit bullets and whack them on the head a few times."
"I think I did more than whack her head a few times," I laughed, pointing at the woman's head that rolled on the dirt.
Kyle was up on the watchtower, looting the boxes and crates up there. "Check the shack, but be careful, more might be in there."
"On it."
Butch opened the door and went through first. "No one's in here." Two bunk beds were in the middle of the room, and tons of crates and ammunition boxes.
While he searched through the storage, I checked the first aid boxes. "Stimpaks!" I said gleefully. I took the 4 stimpaks and shoved them into my backpack. "One for each of us."
"We didn't have any did we?" Butch asked, to which I shook my head. "Now we've got stimpaks and more ammo. Jackpot!"
"That's what we'll be hitting when we get to New Vegas," I grinned. My stupid humor had Butch rolling his eyes good-naturedly more than half the time while we were on the road.
"Freeside's about a couple miles from here," Kyle notified as he reloaded his rifle. "After we get there, you guys are on your own. I've got to deal with this guy by myself."
~~~~
We stood at the gates of Freeside. There wasn't any raiders or deathclaws the rest of the way here, so I guessed snipers watched all sides of the city, for as far as they could see.
"Before you walk in, thanks for accompanying me on the way here," Kyle gushed awkwardly. "I'll be sure to put in good word for you here, I'm cool with the NCR. And uh, have your guns handy, from what I've heard you're liable to get killed in Freeside. Head on to the northside, supposedly there's some guys like you, Butch, that run the town."
"Alright! Hey, let's go to northside. I can start the new Tunnel Snakes there!" Butch urged me.
"They don't let just anyone in," Kyle warned. He holstered his pistol, and swept his hair out of his face. "I gotta go. Good luck." He pulled open the metal gates, and we followed him in, but he disappeared quicker than a radscorpion dug out of the ground in the crowds.
All the people here were mostly dressed in rags or ripped clothing. A few armored men stood by the gates, and a group of people were drinking whiskey together by a wall. Butch gripped my hand, "I don't think we should ask any of these guys how to get to northside."
"I don't know, maybe just go north?" I hinted sarcastically.
"Shut up, I got the brain of a brahmin." Around the corner of a broken down building, 3 guys were cornering a woman, demanding for anything she had on her. Attempting to shoot those guys was like suicide, everyone here would just pull their weapons on you after hearing the first shot.
2 kids ran past, chasing a giant rat with sticks. One of them was growling under his breath, "I just want this rat for dinner!"
"I got this," I proclaimed, shooting the rat with my pistol. I hoped everyone would see I was just shooting a rat, but fortunately, no one even turned their heads.
"Thank you, lady!" The kid chirped. He threw his stick to the ground, and picked up the rat, looking triumphantly at his brother or friend or whoever.
"This place sucks," Butch grumbled.
"No kidding. Alright, so we've gotta find the Kings, maybe they can get us a room or something," I suggested hopefully.
~~~~
It took us about an hour just to get through the crowds and find the gate to the north side. Still a lot of people here, but among them were greasers. Some of them had jackets similar to Butch's but said the Kings on the back, and others were wearing just a white shirt. A couple hookers were on the corner of the street. I'm not gonna lie, I saw Butch glance at them, and it made me mad. But I didn't say anything.
One of the first buildings we saw was the King's School of Impersonation, and a group of Kings were smoking by the front door. "I wonder if anyone can go in?" I thought out loud.
"Guess we're about to find out." Butch grabbed my hand and I followed him up there. And the answer to my question? Yes.
We entered the lobby, where at least 6 Kings were hanging around, sitting on barstools at the counter. Another one was leaning against the wall by a door.
"Hey, you know where we can see the King?" Butch asked.
"What's your business with him?" The man asked gruffly. He got off the wall, and stood in front of the door. I already didn't like him. His face seemed to be in a permanent scowl, with mean looking blue eyes.
"We just wanted to speak with him," I said.
"50 caps," He demanded. "It'd be 100 but you ain't bad looking."
Butch stepped closer to me. "Hey man, watch yourself. Or else Butch is gonna get you and you don't want that! No one messes with the Snakes! Or ya know, the wife of any Tunnel Snake."
"Okay, just stop before he changes his mind." I grabbed Butch by the arm and pulled him away from the man.
"I could've had him, you know," Butch muttered.
"Yeah, and then have all of them come after us. Sure, you'd kill them all!" We stepped into what seemed to be some sort of stage for a show. 3 Kings were dancing to this rock n roll song, and more were sitting at tables. "How many of these guys are there?"
I'd heard talk of the King just from citizens in Freeside and from Kyle. He seemed really important, and I really hoped I didn't screw this up.
I easily picked him out because he was the only one in this whole building who wasn't wearing a leather jacket or white shirt. He was wearing a neat white blazer and dark pants, with black dress shoes. His hair was slicked back in a pompadour, and a large German Shepherd sat by his side.
As Butch and I wove our way through the numerous greasers, I was being looked up and down, and Butch was stared at. Though the gleam in their eyes wasn't as hostile as the rest of Freeside's, probably because Butch looked like one of them.
"What can the King do for you?" The King offered as we approached his table. He had the most attractive and devious smirk, and sparkling blue eyes. It would be damn hard for an enemy of the Kings to look him in the eye and kill him. His dog's hackles rose when Dogmeat approached, but Dogmeat kept his cool, and so did the other dog.
I suddenly had forgotten everything I had to say. Fortunately Butch actually paid attention to what I had told him, so he talked to the King.
"We just came here all the way from the Capital, and we thought maybe you could help us."
"What kinda help are you talking about?" The King asked, taking a drink out of a water bottle.
Butch shrugged. "I don't know, I guess a place to stay really. I thought we'd come to you guys because I used to run a gang like the Kings, not as big, but hey it was still a gang."
The King watched the guys on stage for a moment, and for a second I thought he wasn't going to answer. Then he said, "Alright, only if you can prove your worth to the Kings. First, I want you to take my boy Rex here to Jacobstown. His brain is injured from being struck on the head with a branch two days ago, and I haven't been able to take him there myself. A guy named Doc Henry lives there, he's a surgeon, he was recommended to me to fix up ole' Rex." The King patted his dog behind the ears, to which the large dog panted happily.
"Where's Jacobstown?" I asked.
"Well if you leave now, you should make it there by nightfall. You have a map on you?" The King asked.
I nodded, pulling out my map that was given to me by a settler in Goodsprings, and handing it to him. He drew a line west of here, and circled an area near the mountains. "Thank you," I said, folding it and putting it back in my pocket.
"Does that guy out there always charge"
"Wait, but isn't that the NCR?" I asked, confused. The wooden towers were still down the road, and I wasn't farsighted, but I could barely make out a person standing watch up there. Three more sat at a table inside the chain-link fence.
Kyle snorted. "You'd know if it was the NCR. Their flags would be waving in the air, they'd have painted the bear on their walls. No, these are raiders. Can't you tell?" He aimed down the sights, and held his breath, then pulled the trigger. The raider on watch slumped to the floor, and the others sprang to their feet, readying their weapons.
"Get 'em boy," I said, patting Dogmeat on his shoulder. The dog barked happily, and sped down the road, leaping the chain fence to tackle one of the raiders.
A man pointed at us and shouted as we came to Dogmeat's aid, and raised his 9mm smg.
"I got him," Butch waved us the other way to take out the others. That left one for me, and one for Kyle.
A woman with a mohawk came out the door of a little shack, a baseball bat covered with barbed wire was in her hand. Through the sights of the hunting rifle, I took her head clean off. The recoil caught me by surprise, though. I'd been used to using a pistol up until now. The blood splattered my new armor, but that wasn't anything new to me.
"I didn't even waste a bullet!" Butch grinned, the silver on his cowboy repeater was crimson now. "These guys are so slow, seriously. Just roll across the ground to avoid their bullshit bullets and whack them on the head a few times."
"I think I did more than whack her head a few times," I laughed, pointing at the woman's head that rolled on the dirt.
Kyle was up on the watchtower, looting the boxes and crates up there. "Check the shack, but be careful, more might be in there."
"On it."
Butch opened the door and went through first. "No one's in here." Two bunk beds were in the middle of the room, and tons of crates and ammunition boxes.
While he searched through the storage, I checked the first aid boxes. "Stimpaks!" I said gleefully. I took the 4 stimpaks and shoved them into my backpack. "One for each of us."
"We didn't have any did we?" Butch asked, to which I shook my head. "Now we've got stimpaks and more ammo. Jackpot!"
"That's what we'll be hitting when we get to New Vegas," I grinned. My stupid humor had Butch rolling his eyes good-naturedly more than half the time while we were on the road.
"Freeside's about a couple miles from here," Kyle notified as he reloaded his rifle. "After we get there, you guys are on your own. I've got to deal with this guy by myself."
~~~~
We stood at the gates of Freeside. There wasn't any raiders or deathclaws the rest of the way here, so I guessed snipers watched all sides of the city, for as far as they could see.
"Before you walk in, thanks for accompanying me on the way here," Kyle gushed awkwardly. "I'll be sure to put in good word for you here, I'm cool with the NCR. And uh, have your guns handy, from what I've heard you're liable to get killed in Freeside. Head on to the northside, supposedly there's some guys like you, Butch, that run the town."
"Alright! Hey, let's go to northside. I can start the new Tunnel Snakes there!" Butch urged me.
"They don't let just anyone in," Kyle warned. He holstered his pistol, and swept his hair out of his face. "I gotta go. Good luck." He pulled open the metal gates, and we followed him in, but he disappeared quicker than a radscorpion dug out of the ground in the crowds.
All the people here were mostly dressed in rags or ripped clothing. A few armored men stood by the gates, and a group of people were drinking whiskey together by a wall. Butch gripped my hand, "I don't think we should ask any of these guys how to get to northside."
"I don't know, maybe just go north?" I hinted sarcastically.
"Shut up, I got the brain of a brahmin." Around the corner of a broken down building, 3 guys were cornering a woman, demanding for anything she had on her. Attempting to shoot those guys was like suicide, everyone here would just pull their weapons on you after hearing the first shot.
2 kids ran past, chasing a giant rat with sticks. One of them was growling under his breath, "I just want this rat for dinner!"
"I got this," I proclaimed, shooting the rat with my pistol. I hoped everyone would see I was just shooting a rat, but fortunately, no one even turned their heads.
"Thank you, lady!" The kid chirped. He threw his stick to the ground, and picked up the rat, looking triumphantly at his brother or friend or whoever.
"This place sucks," Butch grumbled.
"No kidding. Alright, so we've gotta find the Kings, maybe they can get us a room or something," I suggested hopefully.
~~~~
It took us about an hour just to get through the crowds and find the gate to the north side. Still a lot of people here, but among them were greasers. Some of them had jackets similar to Butch's but said the Kings on the back, and others were wearing just a white shirt. A couple hookers were on the corner of the street. I'm not gonna lie, I saw Butch glance at them, and it made me mad. But I didn't say anything.
One of the first buildings we saw was the King's School of Impersonation, and a group of Kings were smoking by the front door. "I wonder if anyone can go in?" I thought out loud.
"Guess we're about to find out." Butch grabbed my hand and I followed him up there. And the answer to my question? Yes.
We entered the lobby, where at least 6 Kings were hanging around, sitting on barstools at the counter. Another one was leaning against the wall by a door.
"Hey, you know where we can see the King?" Butch asked.
"What's your business with him?" The man asked gruffly. He got off the wall, and stood in front of the door. I already didn't like him. His face seemed to be in a permanent scowl, with mean looking blue eyes.
"We just wanted to speak with him," I said.
"50 caps," He demanded. "It'd be 100 but you ain't bad looking."
Butch stepped closer to me. "Hey man, watch yourself. Or else Butch is gonna get you and you don't want that! No one messes with the Snakes! Or ya know, the wife of any Tunnel Snake."
"Okay, just stop before he changes his mind." I grabbed Butch by the arm and pulled him away from the man.
"I could've had him, you know," Butch muttered.
"Yeah, and then have all of them come after us. Sure, you'd kill them all!" We stepped into what seemed to be some sort of stage for a show. 3 Kings were dancing to this rock n roll song, and more were sitting at tables. "How many of these guys are there?"
I'd heard talk of the King just from citizens in Freeside and from Kyle. He seemed really important, and I really hoped I didn't screw this up.
I easily picked him out because he was the only one in this whole building who wasn't wearing a leather jacket or white shirt. He was wearing a neat white blazer and dark pants, with black dress shoes. His hair was slicked back in a pompadour, and a large German Shepherd sat by his side.
As Butch and I wove our way through the numerous greasers, I was being looked up and down, and Butch was stared at. Though the gleam in their eyes wasn't as hostile as the rest of Freeside's, probably because Butch looked like one of them.
"What can the King do for you?" The King offered as we approached his table. He had the most attractive and devious smirk, and sparkling blue eyes. It would be damn hard for an enemy of the Kings to look him in the eye and kill him. His dog's hackles rose when Dogmeat approached, but Dogmeat kept his cool, and so did the other dog.
I suddenly had forgotten everything I had to say. Fortunately Butch actually paid attention to what I had told him, so he talked to the King.
"We just came here all the way from the Capital, and we thought maybe you could help us."
"What kinda help are you talking about?" The King asked, taking a drink out of a water bottle.
Butch shrugged. "I don't know, I guess a place to stay really. I thought we'd come to you guys because I used to run a gang like the Kings, not as big, but hey it was still a gang."
The King watched the guys on stage for a moment, and for a second I thought he wasn't going to answer. Then he said, "Alright, only if you can prove your worth to the Kings. First, I want you to take my boy Rex here to Jacobstown. His brain is injured from being struck on the head with a branch two days ago, and I haven't been able to take him there myself. A guy named Doc Henry lives there, he's a surgeon, he was recommended to me to fix up ole' Rex." The King patted his dog behind the ears, to which the large dog panted happily.
"Where's Jacobstown?" I asked.
"Well if you leave now, you should make it there by nightfall. You have a map on you?" The King asked.
I nodded, pulling out my map that was given to me by a settler in Goodsprings, and handing it to him. He drew a line west of here, and circled an area near the mountains. "Thank you," I said, folding it and putting it back in my pocket.
"Does that guy out there always charge"