Chapter 27: Bitter Springs
You're listening to Radio New Vegas. I'm your host, Mr. New Vegas, and you look extraordinarily beautiful tonight. Got a little Dean Martin coming up later on in the program, but right now its time for a little news. Violence in Freeside reached an all time high earlier today, with a shootout between several unidentified parties taking place near the Cerulean Train Station. It's unknown if anyone was killed, but I've received several reports that the firefight was broken up by a currently unidentified third party, driving a blue Corvega. The news this hour has been brought to you by The Silver Rush: Feel the rush of a warm laser in your hands. Up next is a classic Johnny Cash song. "I Forgot To Remember To Forget," only on Radio New Vegas.
The party was a lot more fun that I was expecting. There was dancing, there was music, there was alcohol... it was almost enough to make you forget that this whole kerfuffle started in violence. Almost. Even I, the morose motherfucker that I am most of the time, had fun. ED-E was merrily buzzing around the ceiling, beeping in time to the music. I think I even saw Julie and a couple of other Followers that the Kings had invited cut loose and let their hair down a bit. Well... figuratively speaking, in Julie's case.
By the time we decided to leave, it was just a little after midnight or so. ED-E was hovering alongside my car as I drove us back to the 38, and I could swear I heard a few of the songs The King had sung being broadcast from his speaker. Arcade was sitting in the passenger seat, and surprisingly enough not all that drunk. Cass and Veronica, on the other hand... well, the only reason either of them had been able to get back to the car was because they'd been leaning on each other, and despite the fact they were both in the backseat, neither of them had let go. So the two of them were hanging off each other, each with bottles of booze in hand, drunkenly singing off-key drinking songs in the backseat of my car.
"So, Arcade..." I said, trying to ignore the two drunks in the back for the moment. "How was your day?"
"Not as interesting as yours, I'd wager," Arcade smirked back at me. "Speaking of, did you figure out anything about Orris yet?"
"Oh! Yeah, hang on..." I pulled the scrap of paper from before out of my pocket and handed it to Arcade. "I think I must have grabbed this along with the cash, because I didn't even know I had it until after The King started singing. I didn't get a good look at, but I think I got the gist - I think Orris was a Legion spy or an informant or something. Let's see what you make of it." Arcade studied the paper intently, pushing his glasses further up his nose. He made a "hmm..." sound before turning back to me.
"This is... yeah, this is pretty cut and dry. I could be wrong, but I think this is the Legion's version of a receipt. It's documenting 'payment for services rendered,' in this case, information about NCR movements within the Strip and Freeside, sabotaging shipments of supplies..." I just nodded as he spoke.
"Yeah, that's about what I thought," I said, driving us past the Strip's front gate. "At least now we know why someone would want to kill that idiot."
"Maybe..." Arcade handed the paper back to me
"Maybe?" I asked as I turned into the Lucky 38's underground car park. "What do you mean? You said yourself, it's pretty cut and dry."
"Well, exactly." I just raised an eyebrow, and he continued. "Maybe I'm overthinking things, but doesn't it seem a bit obvious? A little too convenient, maybe?"
"You think it might be a setup?" I asked, parking the car and killing the engine. "Like, someone planted it on him, make whoever found the body think he's Legion?" I got out of the car, and Arcade followed suit; so did Veronica and Cass, still drunkenly singing a bit of a ways behind us as we walked.
"Well, yeah. A real spy wouldn't be so careless as to leave something incriminating like that on their person." I thought about that. I didn't really know much about spies, much less Legion spies, but I had to agree with Arcade just on the grounds of common sense. It would probably be safe to assume that, yes, a real spy wouldn't be that careless. But there was something else that was bothering me.
"Hang on, if it was a plant, then the assassin would've been the one to have planted it, yes?" Arcade nodded. "So, why go to all the trouble of something like that, and then use a weapon that has a chance of turning the target into a pile of ash, or a puddle of goo?"
I didn't really get a chance to hear Arcade's response, because we were suddenly interrupted at that point by Veronica tossing an arm around my neck, and Cass doing the same to Arcade.
"C'mon boys!" Cass shouted, her face flush and her mouth open in a wide smile. "Sing along! 'Well we fell inta prison, 'bout a quarter ta t'ree, where ah found in mah cell a glass waitin' fer me! So ah filled what was empty, an' ah pulled up a stool! But he stood inna corner, th' ol devil wouldn't move! He said "Ya drink when yer lonely." No ah drink when I want! He said "You'll never be sober," Sure, why would I want that? Ah only drink t'be merry, but unfortunATELEEEEEEEY! Ah'm in th' wrong prison cell an' th' wrong compAAAAANYYYY!'"
We must have looked quite a ridiculous sight, the two of us being led along into the 38 by the two singing drunks. I'm not ashamed to admit, I started singing along as well. I can appreciate a good drinking song, though I think Arcade stayed quiet. ED-E flew skyward as we walked up the stairs and into the 38, seemingly determined to get to the suite before us.
"Oh hey, w're here..." Cass said as we walked into the casino. She stumbled on one of the steps, and reflexively grabbed at her hat. Veronica moved to steady her, and Cass just started laughing. "Man, that step came outta nowhere! Did'ja see that?" Veronica laughed with her and the two of them stumbled into the elevator. I just shook my head and chuckled to myself as Arcade and I followed suit.
"So, V, ah've been wond'rin'..." Cass leaned against the back wall of the elevator and tipped her hat back. "Why're y'always wearing that hood've yers?" Veronica was leaning against the adjacent wall of the elevator, and just blinked a few times at that question.
"Sorry?" She reached up and tugged at the edges of her hood, pulling it closer to her head. "What's wrong with m'hood?"
"Nothin', s'jus'... th' thing must be itchy as all hell. Plus, t'must be way too hot out inna desert sun," Cass took another swig of whiskey, and mumbled into the bottle "Ah've jus' never seen yer hair..." I'm not sure Veronica heard that last bit. Even so, Veronica looked embarrassed. In fact, amazingly enough, her face flushed into an even deeper shade of red.
"I... I just... I mean... that is to say... um..." She clutched at her hood even tighter. "It's... um, it's silly. You'll laugh."
"I promise we won't laugh," Arcade said.
"Arcade promises he won't laugh," I added.
"I just don't like people looking at my hair, that's all," Veronica eventually blurted out. The elevator was silent for a minute or two as it trundled upwards.
"S'that it?" Cass asked. Before she got an answer, the elevator dinged and the door slid open. I was just about to step out when I came face to face with Boone. As always, he was wearing his sunglasses and 1st Recon beret; however, strapped to his back was the camo pattern DKS-501, as well as a backpack large enough to reasonably accommodate a set of armor. He had a revolver and gun belt strapped to his hip, and his bowie knife was strapped to his boot. Wherever he was planning on going, it looked like he was prepping for a fight. Then again, that was kind of par for the course with Boone.
"Oh," was all he said. He stepped out of the way to let us pass. Arcade was the first out, followed by Cass and Veronica, who were both still drunkenly leaning against each other to keep upright.
"Seriously, tho'," I heard Cass say as the two of them staggered down the hall. "Wha's th' problem wit' yer hair?" I stepped out of the elevator after them, but Boone just kept staring at me from behind his sunglasses.
"Hey man," I said. "What's up?"
"I thought some more about what you said last night," he stated simply, hiking his rifle up his shoulder. "And I think maybe you're right."
"Right? Right about what?" I asked after Boone remained silent.
"I think... maybe I should go to Bitter Springs. I don't know what I'm hoping to find there... but I just think I should go."
"Really?" I thought back to the night before, and vaguely recalled saying something to that effect. "What changed your mind?"
"Nothing," he replied almost automatically. After a seconds pause, he added: "Dream." Boone sighed. "Just... tired of thinking about it."
"So, what? Were you gonna walk there or something?" Judging by his appearance, I figured that was exactly his plan.
"If I have to."
"You know, if you want I can give you a lift, man," I checked the location of Bitter Springs on my Pip Boy. "It's not that far - a little under an hour's drive, probably. Sound good?" Boone just slowly started nodding.
"Yeah. Thanks," the two of us walked into the elevator, and right before the doors closed, he added "I hope this isn't a mistake."
Riding with Boone is a very quiet experience. It was almost like how it was before coming to the Mojave - driving in silence with only the sound of the engine to keep me company. In a way, I kind of admired him for his silent, stoic nature. He didn't waste words or breath on unnecessary words or small talk. Whenever he spoke, it was always because he actually had something to say.
By the time we got close to Bitter Springs, it was just shy of one in the morning. Boone had been sitting in the passenger seat, keeping the butt of his sniper rifle in the footwell and clutching the barrel while silently keeping watch. ED-E was buzzing alongside the car; when the two of us had left the 38, ED-E had followed. Because it was so late, part of me felt I should've been more tired than I was. I didn't really have time to dwell on it, however, because Boone suddenly spoke up.
"We're here."
As soon as the car came to a stop, Boone practically leaped out, leaving his pack in the backseat of my car. I got out of the car as well, and ED-E and I followed him up a winding dirt path that led into a nearby rocky outcrop. Boone came to a halt right in front of what appeared to be a small tent city, dimly illuminated by only about half a dozen lights scattered around random places. In front of us was a sign: Bitter Springs Refugee Camp. Up the hill, I saw more tents, and a flagpole complete with an NCR flag gently flapping in the nighttime breeze. I didn't see any people walking around, which wasn't surprising, given the time. The few I did see were all sleeping on filthy mattresses under awnings or in tents, lying under dirty brown blankets.
"This is the place," Boone said after a few seconds spent staring at the camp. "We got sent here from Camp Golf, looking for some Khans who'd been harassing one of our settlements. I guess one of the settlers was connected, because we sent everything we had. We figured this was a gang hideout, but..." Boone paused, clenching his jaw. "They'd led us to their home."
When Boone said that, I took another look at all the tents... and I realized a lot of them were the Mongol style octagon tents that the Great Khans seemed to favor. There were plenty army-green tents set up by the NCR, and just as many awnings trying to pass for tents, but now that Boone had pointed it out, the connection became as clear as day. He turned back to me.
"There's a ridge called Coyote Tail on the south side. That's where command ordered 1st Recon to set up shop."
The ridge he led me to wasn't all that far from where I'd parked my car - it was probably less than an eighth of a mile south. By the time I caught up with Boone, he was standing at the top of the ridge, looking east. I joined him on one side, and ED-E hovered closeby.
"Canyon 37," he said as soon as I got within earshot. I looked down, and saw a small winding path, between this ridge, and another like it a little ways away. "That's what the NCR calls the pass down there. It was the Khans' only escape route, so we set up here to guard it while the main force attacked from the front. Standing orders were to shoot on sight," He sighed, and knelt down, picking up a rifle casing half buried in the dirt. I had a sneaking suspicion I knew what he was going to say next... but I asked anyway.
"So... what happened?"
"Main force got spotted too soon. We heard shooting. Then Khans started coming through Canyon 37 in bunches, but... it was all wrong, though. Women... children... elderly..." Boone stopped talking for a minute, just staring at the rifle casing in his fingers. "Wounded started coming through, too. We radioed to confirm our orders, but... command just... they just didn't get what we were seeing. They told us to shoot till we were out of ammo. So. That's what we did."
Suddenly, everything about Boone made so much more sense.
"That... hell, man," I tried to think of something to say. "I'd be an awful soldier. I don't think I could've gone through with following an order like that." Boone just scoffed a bit, but his expression didn't change.
"Maybe, at one point, I wouldn't have pulled the trigger either..." He sighed heavily. "But I guess that's why they train you. Break you down... till you're automatic. Thing is, at the time? I kept telling myself 'I followed my orders. I did what I was supposed to do as a soldier.' But I'm not a soldier anymore. And those rules don't seem like much of an excuse, now." Boone shook his head, and slowly stood back up. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the empty rifle casing down into the canyon. "I'm sorry," he said finally, turning back to me. "I don't know why we're here. Thought maybe it'd help me see things better."
"Do you want to head back?" I asked. Boone just shook his head.
"No. I'd like to camp here for the night. Think some things over."
"Are you sure?" I asked. Boone nodded.
"Why do you think I brought a bedroll with me?"
Darkness surrounded me... but it wasn't absolute. I couldn't see my hand in front of my face, or the ground beneath me, but off in the distance I could see the darkened outlines of mountains. Above me, I saw a sky filled with boiling, rolling clouds, lit up from within by lightning. The sky flashed constantly, and the delicate sound of thunder boomed directly overhead. However, there was another sound that caught my ear: a soft clicking noise, almost like the ticking of a watch. I fumbled in the darkness until I found my Pip Boy, my fingers searching the outer casing...
There was a soft mechanical whine and the screen of the Pip Boy lit up when I found the button, and an almost radioactive green glow bathed the land around me. Below my feet, I saw very fine sand, so I started to walk towards the noise, using my Pip Boy to light my way. It didn't take long to find what I was looking for... but I didn't immediately know what I was looking at.
Hovering about a foot off the ground was a large cube, about two feet across with nine multicolored squares on each face. The faces of the cube were rearranging themselves, and apparently that movement was making the clicking noise. I felt like I recognized it from somewhere, but couldn't place it - and then it hit me: the boy sitting under the overpass at the 188 trading post. He had been playing with the same kind of puzzle cube, only smaller. He'd given it to me, and now it was resting on the dashboard of my car.
The puzzle cube clicked one final time, and all the colors matched on every face. It spun on its axis, and slowly began to sink into the sand. I watched it descend into the fine sand like a stone being dropped into water... and in its place, I saw the silhouette of a man standing just outside the Pip Boy's radius of light.
"Hello?" I asked, trying to shine the light to get a better view at the silhouette. There was a soft orange glow by his head, and a trail of smoke expanded outwards.
"Hello, Courier," a very familiar voice said out of the darkness. The figure stepped forward, and his black and white checkered jacket became visible.
"Benny," I lowered my Pip Boy, but he still stayed illuminated. He just kept smoking. "I'm guessing you're responsible for all this?" I waved a hand around at the landscape. Benny just shrugged.
"Not really. I'm just here to deliver a message." The smoke from his cigarette hung around his head and refused to dissipate.
"Hey, I'm the Courier. Delivering messages is my job," I said. Benny just smirked.
"I just want to make sure you understand what you're becoming. Because the sooner you realize, the sooner you see, and the faster you accept and understand, the more control you'll have over your own fate," he said. I started walking towards him, but he didn't get any closer, despite the fact that he wasn't moving.
"So, what am I becoming, then?" Benny smirked, and took another draw from his cigarette.
"You're a weapon, Courier," he stated simply. "You are becoming a person of mass destruction. And you'll need to be, if you're going to survive the coming storms." My mind wandered back to the child at the 188, and his cryptic message about the NCR and Legion...
"The Bull and Bear over the dam... A storm of blood will flood the desert, not purify it..." I said, trying to repeat what I could remember of what he'd said. Benny smiled and shook his head slightly.
"That's just the inevitable storm. The one you can't stop. But there are more than two players at the table... all placing bets... all will lose in different ways. All of them will try and use you to further their own ends. And there are so many more storms on their way..."
As Benny spoke, thunder boomed over our heads. Lightning lit up the sky, and the clouds started to slowly change color. The sea of clouds churned, and the sky turned a deep, blood red. There was another boom of thunder, this time loud enough to cause the ground beneath me to shake... wait, no... that wasn't thunder.
Before I knew what was happening, the sand beneath my feet shifted, and the very ground started to fall away - or was the ground beneath my feet rising? Either way, I nearly lost my balance, but steadied myself, and I soon found myself standing in the middle of a hexagonal platform. Benny was standing on a similar hexagon several feet away, and I could see that it was a massive prism-shaped pillar, made out of a metal I didn't recognize. On the side, I could just barely make out some writing in large, white block letters: "X-66"
Without warning, the thunder stopped, but I could still see lightning - flashes of bright blue lightning arcing below me in the darkness. The blood red clouds continued to boil, but empty patches were emerging, revealing a sky filled with stars, and a full moon hanging directly overhead. From behind the mountains all around us, I saw points of light emerge that I thought were stars at first... but then they got larger, and closer, and started to stretch themselves out. In an instant, spears of fire rocketed directly overhead, many of them pushing aside the blood clouds, leaving streaks of fiery black smoke in their wake. One of them flew perilously close to Benny and myself, and I ducked out of reflex. I was able to look up just in time, however, to see what it was: an old world ICBM, tipped with a nuclear warhead, and emblazoned on the side with an image of the flag of the United States.
More missiles and rockets streaked and crisscrossed around the night sky... there was no end to them. They just kept coming. And that was when I realized the clouds had parted enough to make the moon entirely visible... and something was happening. It started off as just a few, but after only a few seconds I saw hundreds... thousands... maybe even millions of lights, all moving away from the moon and towards the Earth. It looked like the moon was ripping itself apart, big chunks breaking off and falling away. Before I could figure out what it all meant, there was a blinding flash, unlike anything I'd ever seen before. I want to say that it looked like the sun rising, but it was so much brighter than the sun... it felt like my eyes were being burned away. The noise was so great to go along with the flash, I nearly went deaf. Waves of immense heat and wind washed over me, ripping at my skin and threatening to blow me off the hexagonal prism of metal.
When my vision returned, all I could see was fire... and Benny. He was still standing there, still smoking, but he was silhouetted from behind by the unmistakable sight of a mushroom cloud. The cloud was still on fire as it continued upward and outward, growing ever larger, consuming everything in its path. I had never seen an actual nuclear detonation before. I'd only ever read descriptions, or seen pictures and grainy video from old holotapes, but... it just couldn't compare. It was absolutely the most terrifying, the most horrific, and the most... overwhelming thing I'd ever seen...
"All of these storms are on their way, Sheason," Benny said at last, apparently not bothered at all by the nuclear warhead that had just detonated behind him. "And the question remains - will you possess the strength to stem the tide, when the time comes?"
My eyes cracked open. Everything was hazy, but I realized right away that I wasn't dreaming any longer. It was still mostly dark; out of the corner of my eyes, I could see just the tiniest bit of light, but it was the sort of light that was only enough to make you realize you couldn't actually see. I felt a hand on my shoulder, trying to shake me awake.
"Sheason," I heard Boone's voice through the fog. "Sheason, get up." It took me a few seconds to get my bearings - I was sitting in the drivers seat of my car, which made sense, since that's where I'd fallen asleep.
"Whu- huh?" I tried to force myself awake - and it suddenly became a lot easier. My vision cleared enough for me to see a gas mask with glowing green lenses staring at me from beneath a combat helmet. Boone was in full combat armor - something was very wrong.
"Something's wrong," he said, mirroring my thoughts. "Got a group coming our way. Looks like a Legion raiding party." If seeing Boone in full kit was like a splash of water on my face, that was like punch in the side of the head. I grabbed Roscoe and That Gun, which had been sitting on the passenger seat, and checked them both to make sure they were loaded while I practically leapt out of the car.
"It's big," Boone continued, taking a few steps towards Coyote Tail ridge. "Might be too big. Even for us." Boone didn't sound worried... or surprised in the least. He sort of sounded at peace with the idea of a pack of Legion raiders too big for us to handle. He turned back to me, his rifle at the ready. "If you want out, I won't blame you. But I'm going to stay. See if I can hold them off."
"Let me put it to you like this," I popped the lid on my trunk and pulled out Pinpoint, the hunting rifle I'd bought from the Gun Runners last week, along with a few spare ammo magazines. Boone made a satisfied "Hurm," noise at that. I checked the rifle to make sure it was loaded. "You don't sound surprised about this." Boone shook his head.
"I'm not. Always figured this was how it was gonna end for me. Just didn't know when. That night you showed up in Novac... I had a feeling I was supposed to go with you. That it was time to end all this. And now I know..." That clinched it, then. Boone thought tonight was the night he was going to die. After hearing about his past, I couldn't really blame him... but even so, I tried to steer him away from that topic of conversation.
"So, why would they come to Bitter Springs?"
"Easy target for grabbing slaves," Boone said matter-of-factly. "Lots of displaced refugees no one will miss, token resistance as defense. I don't think they're here for us, if that's what you're getting at." He looked off in the distance, and I tried to follow his gaze; heading toward us, at a rather disquieting pace, were about two dozen points of lights in the darkness. "Too bad. Would've made me feel better if they were."
"If nothing else, it saves us the trouble of finding them," I said. Boone actually laughed at that. Just once, but it was still a laugh.
"If only it was this easy all the time."
"So, what are we waiting for?" As if in response, Boone moved off and started running up the path towards Bitter Springs. I followed suit, with ED-E floating behind me. When we finally got to the entrance of the camp, the lights were still dimly lit, and I still didn't see anyone awake. I didn't even see any NCR troops around. Off in the distance, I heard dogs - or it could have been wolves - start barking. The lights off in the distance were getting closer.
"I'll start thinning them out," I said, chambering a round into Pinpoint, kneeling down, and looking through the rifle's scope. "Give you time to find the best perch." I didn't hear a response from Boone; it's entirely possible he had already left by the time I started speaking. Looking through the crosshairs, I could see the first of the Legion troops come into view: it was a group of four troopers and two mangy dogs running up the path towards the camp. These Legionnaires were wearing sports equipment, unlike the troops at Caesar's Fort.
I exhaled slowly, and calmly slipped into V.A.T.S.
Through the scope, I watched as the Legion troops fell each time I pulled the trigger. One by one, they tumbled backwards before they even got close. The shots from Pinpoint were muffled, but not completely silent. Then again, ED-E zooming along overhead, blasting lasers at the incoming dogs probably wasn't subtle either. And then I heard the unmistakable boom of Boone's sniper rifle.
With the last bullet of Pinpoint's first magazine, I killed a Legionnaire carrying one of the torches, so I pulled it out and looked around as I reached for a fresh mag. What I saw off to my left was surprising however - Boone was walking towards the Legion troops, firing with his massive gun as he made his way down the hill.
I reloaded as quickly as possible, but a ricocheting bullet impacted the ground near my feet. That's my warning that I'm not moving enough. So I ran to a decent piece of cover, reloading as I went. When I was finally able to look down the scope again, I couldn't see any more Legion troops armed only with machetes; now they were starting to shoot back.
Three more V.A.T.S. shots, and three more Legion troops fell. I looked away from the scope again, to get a better idea of how we were doing. ED-E was blasting away, drawing quite a lot of fire but none of the Legion's shots even seemed to be affecting the robot. Boone on the other hand...
He'd closed with a group of Legion troops; all but one of them were dead, and Boone had abandoned his rifle and was locked in a dangerous melee with the last remaining Legionnaire. Closing fast on him, however, I could see two of the Legion mongrels prowling around and getting ready to flank him.
I swung the rifle around, and carefully took aim through the scope. V.A.T.S. was informing me through my ear that my action points had been depleted, so I had no help with this one. The dog closest to me reared back, readying to leap at Boone; I led the rifle, trying to anticipate where it was going to be, exhaled, and squeezed the trigger. There was a muffled bang, the dog leapt, and half a second later it was knocked off course and smashed its face against the ground.
I tried to find the next dog, and my scope fell on Boone; he was too busy smashing the forehead of his helmet into the face of the Legionnaire to notice the dog perched on the rocks above him, ready to pounce. Another muffled bang, and the rocks behind the mongrel were hit with splash of red. I turned my attention back to Boone; he'd finally dispatched the Legion soldier by shoving a bowie knife in his neck.
I heard the sounds of boots tromping against the ground, getting closer. I glanced at the Pip Boy's radar, and several red pips were closing on my position, fast. That was when I realized: my current position was both very good and potentially very bad. On the one hand, because of the terrain they could only really come at me from one way, so I couldn't get flanked. On the minus side, I was backed up into a corner, which meant I wouldn't be able to run if things went tits up. I hoped I had enough ammo left... because the fight had just switched from turkey shoot, to fight or die.
I swung the rifle around towards the direction of the red pips on my radar, and braced myself for incoming Legion. The first of them came from around a rocky outcrop; he was carrying a hunting shotgun, and started leveling it as soon as he saw me. Time slowed for just a moment as I let V.A.T.S. take over. I squeezed the trigger, and the Legion soldier fell backwards, a small burst of blood erupting from his neck.
I pulled the bolt back, and tried to push it back in place, but it was frozen solid. It made sense - even with the best bolt action rifles, you fire it constantly and the heat will make the gun jam. I still swore though.
Another Legionnaire was running towards me with a 10mm submachine gun, so I had to act fast. I dropped Pinpoint and grabbed Roscoe from its holster on my hip and popped off as many shots as I could right at his chest. When he fell, he caused the Legionnaire behind him to stumble long enough for me to land a lucky shot right in the middle of his forehead.
There was a gnashing, snarling sound, and before I realized what was going on, a blurry mass of fur, claws and teeth leaped over the still falling Legion soldier and directly at me. As quickly as I could, I tried to dodge out of the way, but I wasn't quite fast enough, and I felt the dog's claws tear through my jeans and slash across my right leg. It was close enough to be in striking distance, though, so I punched it as hard as I could in the side of its head with my left fist. It staggered backwards long enough for me to aim with Roscoe and pull the trigger.
I looked up again, and one more Legion soldier - this one wearing a helmet topped with a crest of long, black feathers and carrying a lever action rifle - was bearing down on me. I tried to use V.A.T.S., but as I leveled Roscoe I heard a voice in my ear inform me: "Unable to perform action; please reload weapon before using V.A.T.S." I had to think fast, so I reared back with the hand holding Roscoe, pushed and held the magazine release button, and pushed the butt of my pistol towards Legionnaire as hard as I could. The magazine flew out of the bottom of the pistol, and hit the soldier in the middle of his face. There was a cracking sound in the air and he dropped the rifle to clutch at his face; I couldn't tell if the lens on his goggles cracked, of if it was his nose. Honestly, I didn't really care. I pulled That Gun out of the back of my trousers with my left hand and fired, practically point blank.
I was hoping that was the end of it, but of course, I wasn't that lucky. From the top of one of the rocks that kept them coming at me from the same direction, another one of the Legion mongrels leapt down towards me before I could get out of the way. The dog hit me in the chest and knocked me off my feet; my grip on Roscoe loosened, and I could feel the dog tearing at my shoulders, trying to rip its way through my leather jacket. With my newly freed hand, I reached up as quick as I could and grabbed at the dogs neck to keep him from ripping my head to bits; just in time, too, because the dogs muzzle stopped inches from my face. All I saw was a mass of teeth, as I tried to ignore all the spittle flying into my vision and the rank smell of hot breath blasting into my nose. I buried the barrel of That Gun deep into the gut of the dog and pulled the trigger as many times as I could. The dog whined and stopped struggling. I shoved the mutt off of me, pushing it with all my strength, and, very slowly, got back on my feet.
For a minute or two, the only thing I could hear was my own heavy breathing echoing in my ears. But then, very softly, I heard victorious marching music wafting from an eyebot's speaker grille. I looked up, and there was ED-E, who let off one final laser blast before quieting down and hovering closer to head height. I picked up Roscoe and Pinpoint, and slowly walked over the dead Legion troops and dogs, and out in the open. I didn't see any more Legion troops heading up towards Bitter Springs... just a lot of bodies. I finally started to hear shouting from people within the camp, but no alarms and no more gunshots. The sun was just now starting to peer over the mountains to the East.
A few dozen yards away, Boone was standing amid a pile of bodies, and even from my distance I could see him breathing heavily and looking around at the dead Legion around him. So I slowly made my way towards him.
"I think we're clear," I said. When I got closer, I saw that the sleeve of his duster on the inside of his arm was slightly torn, and I could see flecks of fresh blood. "You're hit. You're bleedin', man," I said, stating the obvious. "You alright?"
"Yeah... I'm..." Boone continued to look around at the bodies. I didn't know if he was just looking at the corpses, or looking for his rifle. "No, I'm not.." He paused for a minute, and then started to shake his head. He reached up, I heard a clasp snap open, and he took off his helmet, dropping it at his feet. He opened his eyes and ran a gloved hand over his buzzed hair.
"We made it through. Not sure what to make of that..." He didn't sound or look angry, or relieved, or any of the emotions I might have expected from him. He just seemed... almost confused is probably the best word.
"C'mon man. You underestimated us. We're a couple of grade-A badasses, and this just proves it," I said. ED-E beeped a few times behind me, seemingly in agreement.
"Yeah... Guess I did. I figured whatever we could handle, this time the Legion was going to send more." Boone looked up at me, for the first time since I'd met him without his glasses. There was one overwhelming emotion that escaped through his eyes: sheer, utter exhaustion. "I should have died here a long time ago. When I spotted the Legionaries... I thought I finally understood. Things were finally going to even out. I could feel the end coming. I was ready for it." I stepped forward, ready to try and talk some sense into him, when Boone just dropped to his knees and hung his head. "But I'm still here. Nothing's changed... and I'm still waiting."
"Listen, Boone," I knelt down, and rested a hand on his shoulder. "No one is judging you or punishing you. Especially since it wasn't your fault. Things just... happen," As soon as I said it, I regretted it. Things just happen? What kind of pathetic line was that?
"If that's how it is, there's not a lot of comfort in knowing it," Boone just kept slowly shaking his head, staring down without really looking at anything. "I just... I don't know what I'm supposed to do about all this."
"Boone, I want you to really listen to me. You can't take back what you've done, I know that. You know that. But sometimes..." I tried to think of something that might help in some way. "Sometimes your regrets can set you on a better path. I mean... your regrets brought us here, didn't they?"
"I..." Boone's expression softened, for the first time since I'd met him. "I guess they did. One less Legion raiding party running loose now... and that's never a bad thing. Still... I don't know, it still feels like I'm living on borrowed time." Boone reached out, and took hold of his dropped helmet, turning it over in his hands until he was looking at his reflection in the green lenses. And suddenly... he no longer looked confused.
"You know what?" He finally said. "Now I'm thinking about it... I don't see any reason not to take a lot more of those sons of bitches with me."
"It's not your time yet, Boone. It's up to you to decide what you want to do with the time you have left." He nodded in agreement.
"You got a point. There are still some things I can do before all this is over."
"There's plenty you can do still. Now c'mon, let's get that arm of yours cleaned up," I said, encouraging him to get up. He looked up, towards the East, and my gaze followed his; he was looking at the rising sun. "It's the dawn of a new day."
"You got that right."