"So?...What happened next?" Jr. asked. The band of travelers had been wandering the desert for awhile now, some unsure if they're even heading in the right direction.
"Hm? What happened with what?" The old man said, his age getting the better of his memory.
"The Prodigy! What happened next?" Jr. said.
"Oh! Right." The old man remembered.
"I'd love to continue story time and all, but does anyone actually know where we are?" Kelly asked. No one in the group had an answer. "So, we've been walking in a random direction this whole time. Fantastic."
"Patience, Kelly. We'll get to our destination in due time." The old man said.
"It'd be nice to know where we're going though." Rodger joined in.
"Seriously. Where even are we?" Courtney asked, taking her hat off and wiping the sweat off her forehead.
"Somewhere we don't want to be." The old man said. "But, we are closer to our destination than we were before."
"That's extremely vivid." Jr. said.
"Like everything this guy's been saying isn't?" Rodger said. "I mean, seriously? I know Micheal was real, but this whole thing is starting to sound like a fairy-tale." Everyone stopped walking and looked toward Rodger. "Visions of bears, talking deathclaws, disappearing strangers. This shit sounds like what you'd see in one of those pre-war movies."
"That is does." The old man said. "But, try to keep an open mind. The Wasteland can hold things that no one would ever have thought possible. The people of Nevada certainly thought that about The Prodigy and his compatriots." The old man used this opportunity to continue the story.
The gang had finally made it out of Utah, but were now deep within a train tunnel, following the tracks. The ride was claustrophobic and irritating; the tracks were covered in debris, so some of them had to end up pushing the car. Not to mention the only real light source was Micheal with his Pip-Boy and the car headlights. Than there was the problem with some ghouls and the occasional squatter, but that was light-weight compared to trying to keep the car moving. Eventually, they saw light as the end of a tunnel and decided to go to it. There was a gate blocking them, but Jenkins managed to lift it open. They drove out of the tunnel and were blinded by the sunlight, but eventually composed themselves.
"Glad to finally see the sky again." Bonnie said.
"I'm glad to finally see again." Jenkins said. "I really need to get this damned headlight fixed."
"Where are we now?" Phyllis asked. Micheal looked down at his Pip-Boy, switched it to the map and saw that it changed again. His Pip-Boy map usually changes shape when he's reached a new area that wasn't on the original map. They appeared to be somewhere far in the Northeast section of the map.
"Somewhere new, that's for sure." Micheal said, then showed his Pip-Boy to the ranger. "Recognize this layout?"
"Yeah. This is it." Phyllis said after looking at the map. "We're in Nevada. I'd be careful, Jenkins. These people don't take kindly to Brotherhood around these parts."
"I'll keep that in mind." Jenkins replied.
The three of them got back in the car and continued to follow the railroad tracks.
"Be careful around here. This is Boomer territory." Phyllis warned.
"Boomer?" Micheal asked.
"The Boomers of Vault 34." The ranger said. "They're a bunch of vault dwellers that were able to get their hands on some devastating artillery and firearms. Just try to stay out of their sight."
Micheal drove on the tracks and eventually a large airfield emerged from the beyond the rocks. This was the Nellis Air Force Base, or the Boomers headquarters. They drove as close as they could to the rocks without being spotted. Eventually, they reached a clearing on the tracks where the Boomers couldn't see them. Becker drove further up, went down a hill and found the road again. He swerved onto the road, leaving the train tracks behind.
"We're not obliterated. That's good." Bonnie said.
"Where to now?" Micheal asked.
"Just follow the road from here and I'll tell you where to get off." Phyllis said.
"Hold up. Do we need anymore supplies?" Bonnie asked. Everyone looked at what they had and it clearly wasn't enough for the rest of the journey. A lot of their supplies were dwindled and they hadn't stocked up since Wyoming. "We should probably stop by a vendor or something."
"The Gun Runners aren't too far from here. We can probably restock our ammo there. We can also get some food and water from the Crimson Caravan." Phyllis suggested. "Here, I'll mark it on your Pip-Boy." The ranger marked the location of Micheal's Pip-Boy and they hit the road again. First stop on the list: the Gun Runners manufacturing facility.
Meanwhile, at the Gun Runners facility, a lone guard stood outside the gate and near the little kiosk. "I just feel like they don't actually know the dangers of traveling on foot. You get what I'm saying?" He said.
"Welcome, sir or madam. Do you wish to purchase anything?" The protectron he was talking to said, not being able to actually have a conversation due to their coding.
"Pfft, what do you know? You're stuck in this damn shack." The guard said, then took a swig of his Sunset Sarsaparilla. The guard was on break, so he decided to step outside of the claustrophobic metal fencing around the compound for a bit. "I feel bad for you, my robotic amigo. Must be a personal hell to be stuck in one spot forever." The guard said, leaning against the wooden kiosk built around the protectron.
""Welcome. sir or madam. Do you wish to purchase anything?" The robot repeated.
"Good talk." The guard bluntly replied. He looked up to the facility he lived and worked in and saw the same giant, steel 'Gun Runners' sign he's seen so much. The facility consists of a large building surrounded by metal fencing, enclosing it on all corners. A small wooden shack sits right outside the front gate and serves as the shop while the larger building is where they manufacture all the weapons. A protection, better known as 'Vendertron", is stationed inside the shack to process all the transactions and sales.
Nothing really happens around here, especially since they're so close to the scrap walls of New Vegas. The occasional fiend or mole-rat, but nothing extraordinary ever happened near the New Vegas, not ever since Mr. House came in with his army of securitrons and took control. But, there were plenty of dangers around the Mojave Wasteland: fiends, cazadors, Legion, monsters that could even make Grognak the Barbarian quiver in his skin boots. And that made a whole host of trouble for the caravan's. The guard took another swig of his sarsaparilla and was about to go back inside, until he heard some strange sound. It sounded similar to a generator, but it seemed to be getting closer. He looked all around him, but couldn't find the source. Then, he saw something turn a corner down the road.
"What..the..fuck?" He said in disbelief. It was a car, an actual working car driving down the road. It made a turn and started getting closer. After a few seconds of standing there watching, the car slowed down and parked right in front of him. The guard saw a few people in the car and the hulking guy in T-51b power armor sitting in the trunk. The car doors opened and a woman, an NCR ranger, a teenager and a dog stepped out. He was dumbfounded.
"This the place?" Micheal asked.
"Yeah." The ranger confirmed. "Alright. So, we need shotgun shells, .45's, .50's, 5.56 ammo, some 9mm. What else?"
"Can you see if they've got any armor piercing rounds?" Bonnie asked.
"I'll ask, but I don't think we'll be able to afford it." Phyllis replied.
"How many caps do we have anyway?" Jenkins asked. No one knew an exact answer, so they all pulled out their caps and started counting.
"I've got fifty-five." Bonnie said.
"Sixty-three." Phyllis announced.
"Fifty-two." Jenkins stated.
"Three-hundred and twelve." Micheal said. Everyone looked over to the young vault dweller. "What?" He asked, confused as to why they were staring at him.
"How in the fuck did you get so many bottle-caps?" Bonnie asked.
"I've been saving my money." Micheal admitted.
"Then how'd you get that combat armor?" Jenkins questioned.
"From a museum back in Wyoming. What of it?" Micheal said.
"Whatever. Hand me your caps and I'll go buy what we need." Phyllis said. They handed the ranger their caps and he walked off to talk to the robot vendor. Jenkins stepped out of the trunk to examine his weapon, Bonnie sat in the passenger seat and lit a cigarette, and Micheal walked around with Dogmeat following him. The Prodigy's eyes locked onto the guard standing outside and his eyes locked with The Prodigy. Micheal waved to him with a childish smile on his face and the guard waved back. Micheal walked over to him and leaned on the shack beside the guard.
"Howdy." Micheal cheerfully greeted.
"Hi." The guard said, still confused about whats happening.
"Lovely day." Micheal said, trying to start a conversation.
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, it's alright. I guess..." The guard didn't know what to say. "Is that...Is that your car?" He asked.
"Yep! A Chrysalis Highwayman." Micheal said. "Nice armor, by the way."
"Um, thanks. Yours is pretty cool too." The guard replied. "What, uh, what are you guys doing here?"
"Just stopping by to pick up some ammo. What're you doing here?" Micheal asked.
"I work here. At the Gun Runners. I'm a guard." He said.
"That's cool. Micheal Becker." Micheal introduced himself.
"Patrick." The guard introduced.
"Nice to meet'cha, Patrick." The Prodigy said.
"Yeah. You guys..You guys aren't from around here, are ya?" Patrick said, noticing Micheal's accent.
"Nope. We're from Kansas." Micheal answered.
"Kansas? Isn't that like...the Midwest or something?" The guard asked.
"Yep. Right above Oklahoma, if I'm correct." Micheal said. "Didn't know Vegas was still a thing."
"Yeah. Yeah, it's still here." Patrick said. The two fell silent for a few seconds.
"You seem stressed. Is something bothering you?" Micheal asked, trying to get him to talk.
"Well...I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I think you can actually help me out here." Patrick said. "Our boss wants us to deliver a few shipments of weapons to some of the surrounding areas, but the roads are extremely dangerous for caravan travel. But, with a car, that's a different story." Bonnie was watching this whole thing unfold from the car.
"Yes, that certainly tips the scales in your favor. But, nothing come's free. How much you paying?" Micheal asked.
"I can pay you guys about two-hundred caps. That sound good?" Patrick said.
"Make that three-fifty and you got yourself a deal." Micheal raised the price.
"Three-hundred and fifty caps? No, that's way too high." Patrick denied.
"Well, not really. Considering the circumstances that we have a car and we're delivering weapons, I think it's a fair price." Micheal said. "I mean, it's not like you're ever gonna get another chance for this, are ya?"
Patrick pondered for a bit. He sighed in defeat. "Fine. Three-hundred and fifty caps, but I ain't going any higher." He accepted the terms.
"Then we accept. Give us the weapons and locations and we'll deliver our part of the bargain." Micheal said.
"Hold up. I have to go get the paperwork. Wait here." Patrick said, then went inside the gate and into the compound. Micheal stood up and walked over to the car with a sly smile on his face.
"Nice job, Mikey. You're getting better at this." Bonnie complimented. Phyllis came back from the vendor.
"What'd I miss?" He asked.
"I just got us an easy job to do." Micheal told.
"And what's that?" The ranger asked.
"Delivering weapons for the Gun Runners. Three-hundred and fifty caps are on the table." Bonnie said.
"Three-fifty?" Phyllis chuckled. "Alright. A few more stops couldn't hurt."
Patrick eventually came back with the necessary paperwork. Micheal signed it and few more guards came out with the shipment. There were about three weapons, so they were just thrown in the trunk. Patrick marked the drop-off points on Micheal's Pip-Boy. There were three stops in particular: some guy in Freeside, a woman in a town called Novac and another guy in a town named Primm.
"I'm gonna have to come with you." Patrick said. "My boss said these were high-valued weapons and I need to make sure they're actually delivered."
"Fine by me. Just don't cause trouble and we'll be fine." Micheal said. Patrick got in the backseat with Phyllis and Dogmeat and they were on their way to deliver the guns. First stop on the list was Freeside because it was so close. Micheal drove the car to the eastern entrance of Freeside. The massive scrap gate blocking them off had to be opened manually, but it was no real issue. The crew entered Freeside and drove slowly through the tattered streets. There were a couple neon signs indicating shops, a lot of ruined buildings and a massive wooden fortress which was the headquarters of the Followers of the Apocalypse in Nevada. The locals watched the Highwayman traverse down the road, unsure if what they were seeing was real.
"Alright, Patrick." Micheal said. "Where're we meeting this guy?"
"Deeper into Freeside. We're gonna have to leave the car." He said.
"This doesn't look like the type of neighborhood I would want to leave one of the only working vehicles unattended." Micheal said. "Someone's gonna have to stay with the car."
"I'll stay." Phyllis said. "I don't particularly enjoy Freeside or Vegas."
"I'll stay too." Jenkins said from the trunk. "I ain't taking my chances out here."
"Alright. I'll go." Micheal announced. "Who else is coming?"
"I have to go either way." Patrick said.
"I'll come along. I need to stretch my legs." Bonnie said. "Leave the dog. People will look at him and salivate."
Micheal ordered Dogmeat to stay put and the trio left the car. Micheal collected the specific gun they needed and headed on their way. They walked up to big bus blocking the road into the rest of Freeside, went through the doors of it and out the other side into the major part of Freeside. At first glance, it seems like a shit-hole. But, to the locals, this was Vegas without actually going inside Vegas. There was a building with a big neon sign that read 'The Kings', a mini casino called the 'Atomic Wrangler' and a building that said 'Van Graffs' on it.
"Where is this guy?" Bonnie asked.
"He said to meet him off the main path to the left. He's a fancy guy, so you'll know him when you see him." Patrick said. The trio walked further down the main road, looking for somebody that stands out. There were plenty of people in rags running around, and even some staring at them.
"This place seems nice." Micheal sarcastically remarked.
"Don't worry, they won't attack us. They don't seem too high on chems today." Patrick said.
"Hey." Bonnie called their attention. "Is that him?" She pointed over to some guy in a fancy suit smoking a cigarette off to the side street.
"Uh..Yeah. That's him." Patrick confirmed. The trio walked over to the man. As soon as the guy saw them, he dropped his cigarette and put it out with his foot. "Hey!" Patrick called out. "Are you Benny?"
"The one and only, baby." The man in the checkered suit said. "Who's asking?"
"You placed an order for a 9mm pistol a couple weeks ago. We're here to deliver it." Patrick said.
"Finally! You guys sure do take your time, don't you?" Benny said. "Give it here. I don't want to stay out here with the rats much longer, ya dig?"
"Micheal, hand him the gun." Patrick ordered. Micheal pulled out the 9mm; it was a silver gun with engravings, a picture of Our Lady of Guadalupe on the handle and the words 'Crafted by M & A Guns Manufacturers' on it. "We went through a lot of trouble getting this gun just the way you want it. We expect considerable payment." Patrick said.
"Yeah yeah, whatever. Just hand it over already." Benny said. Micheal walked over to him and was about to hand him the gun, but stopped and stood still. "What's the hold up? You brain-dead or something?" Benny insulted. Micheal, all of a sudden, cocked the pistol, spun around and started firing behind him, near where Bonnie was standing. The three others jumped in surprise and thought he had started firing for no reason. When he stopped, the others looked at what he could've fired at and were surprised to see a Freeside thug right next to Bonnie with a combat knife; a thug was gonna surprise attack Bonnie. Blood was dripping out of the fresh bullet holes in his body and he soon dropped dead to the concrete.
"How's that for brain-dead?" Micheal remarked, then threw the pistol to Benny. "Pleasure doing business, checkers." He said to Benny. "Let's get out of here. We've got more deliveries to do." Micheal walked away from the group and the others shortly followed, leaving Benny with his newfound pistol and checking him off the list. The trio walked out of Freeside and back to the car, only to be met with the locals surrounding the car and the ranger and paladin trying to keep them away. The trio pushed past the crowd, got back in the car, nearly hit some people and drove out of Freeside. Two more to go.
It had only been twenty minutes since they left Freeside and they were already halfway to their next destination, Novac. All they really had to do was follow the road and they'll get there in no time. During that time, Micheal decided to turn on his Pip-Boy radio. He turned into Radio New Vegas and the song 'I'm Movin' Out' by Billy Roues came on. No one really talked during the ride, but it was clear someone wanted to say something.
"So...is this what you've guys been driving in since Kansas?" Patrick spoke up.
"Well, we actually got the car in in Nebraska." Micheal corrected. "But, we've been traveling since Kansas."
"But why come all this way?" Patrick asked.
"That's classified." Phyllis said.
"Alright..So, you guys got any good stories?" The Gun Runner asked.
"I once killed a gecko with nothing but my teeth." Bonnie said.
"When was that?" Micheal asked.
"When you were in a coma for three days." She answered.
Another twenty minutes passed and they eventually reached Novac. It was a motel turned into a community, nothing really impressive. The only thing Novac had that was considered interesting was the giant, fake dinosaur holding the sign. They hadn't even reached the perimeter of Novac when Patrick told them to stop. He said that the person they were suppose to meet didn't live in Novac particularly, but rather the scrapyard nearby to the North. Micheal put the car in reverse and back-tracked down the road. They stopped in front of the scrap yard and saw an old woman sitting on a chair just outside of a garage and a bunch of dogs surrounding her. Dogmeat barked at the other dogs through the window and started a frenzy. The old woman tried to calm her dogs down, but eventually just put them inside. Micheal calmed down Dogmeat and went with Patrick to deliver the next shipment.
"You Gibson?" Patrick asked the woman.
"Indeed I am." She said. "What brings you lot to my little abode?"
"We're with the Gun Runners, ma'am. You placed a delivery a few days ago for a short, double-barreled shotgun." Patrick said.
"Why, I did do that, didn't I? Do you have it?" Old Lady Gibson asked. Micheal called out to Jenkins and the paladin tossed the shotgun to him.
"Here you are. One short, double-barreled shotgun." Micheal said and handed the gun to the old lady.
"You boys make wonders." The old lady complemented. "I would just take any random gun, but nothing makes me feel more safe than a boomstick." The two said their goodbyes and left the old lady. They got back in the car and set off to their final stop, Primm. The ride was a bit longer, mostly because of wandering Legion gangs. Micheal even ended up breaking one Legion scout's vertebrae with the front of his car. That, and the fact that Patrick lead them down a path that would avoid Nipton, a town full scum and villainy. Where prostitution is legal and thievery thrived; it was basically a mini New Reno without the gambling. Eventually, they got back on the road and headed North to Primm.
"I spy, with my little eye, something...orange." Patrick said.
"If you say the fucking mountains again, I'm going to boot your ass out of this car." Bonnie warned.
"No! It's wasn't the mountains." Patrick said. "It was the sand."
"How much farther?" Micheal asked.
"We should be at it now. Just drive a little farther." Patrick said. Micheal drove further and they eventually saw a town with a roller coaster built around it. It had made it to Primm. Micheal parked under the bridge that connected the town. Phyllis went with Micheal and Patrick this time, leaving Bonnie, Dogmeat and Jenkins with the car. Micheal took the last weapon and followed the others.
"So who are we meeting this time?" Micheal asked.
"The sheriff of this town, Sheriff McBain. He should be easy to spot." Patrick answered.
"I hope so." Phyllis said. "I don't really want to keep running around Nevada much longer." The trio walked up the hill, made it to the destroyed part of Primm and walked across the nearly destroyed, concrete bridge. When they made it to the other side, Micheal immediately noticed the large building to his right that said 'Mojave Express'.
"Hey, Phyllis. Didn't we meet somebody who worked for the Mojave Express?" Micheal asked.
Phyllis thought for a second. "I don't know. Maybe. I think you spoke to them or something." He said.
"I think it was back in South Dakota or something. I don't know." Micheal said. They walked further into Primm and eventually a man in a duster and some tin-gallon hat came over to them.
"Howdy." The man greeted. "Welcome to Primm. Have you lot been here before?"
"Not me." Micheal said.
"I've passed by it a couple times." Phyllis said.
"We're here to deliver a package for one Sheriff McBain. Have you seen him?" Patrick asked.
"Heh. You're looking at him, son. Whatcha got for me?" The sheriff said.
"We're with the Gun Runners. You ordered a custom revolver a few weeks ago. We're here to deliver." Patrick said.
"Hot damn. You boys actually brought it." The sheriff said joyfully. "Let me see it." Micheal pulled the gun out. It was a custom .357 Magnum revolver painted black with an ivory handle with a spades symbol on it and custom gold and white engraving. "My god. She is beautiful." McBain said.
"Here you are." Micheal said, handing him the revolver.
"Thank you. You boys have certainly made my day." The sheriff said. "Is that all?"
"That should be it." Patrick said. "Thank you for your, and I bid you farewell." The trio walked away and left the town of Primm. They walked back to the car and saw Bonnie and Jenkins playing caravan, to which Jenkins was losing.
"Hey! You're back." Bonnie said, noticing them. "Are we done?"
"Yeah. That should be all the shipments." Patrick said. "Looks like you guys completed your contract."
"Finally." Micheal said. "There's still the matter of us getting paid, though."
"Ah, yeah. I got the caps on me. Here." Patrick handed the three-hundred and fifty bottle-caps to Micheal. "You guys heading back North or you leaving?"
"We're leaving." Phyllis answered. "We're close to our destination and it's better we don't waste anymore time than we already have."
"Alright." Patrick said. "I'm probably just gonna head up to Goodsprings and grab a drink or something." Patrick said. "I'll find my way back to Vegas. I've done it before." Patrick thanked them for their help, said his goodbyes and left them to go North. They were done with their contract and got paid. Now, all they needed was food and water.
"We're close to the Mojave Outpost, that's the only way we're gonna get to California from here." Phyllis said. "We can stop there and buy supplies real quick." They got back in the car, turned around and headed toward the Mojave Outpost. They drove down the road for a couple minutes, made a right, went up a hill and saw two massive statues in the middle atop the hill.
"What is that?" Micheal asked.
"That's the Unification Statue." Phyllis said. "It was built to symbolize the Ranger Unification Treaty in 2271, the treaty that united both the NCR and the Desert Rangers. A real sight to behold, ain't it?"
"What I see is something glistening to the left." Micheal said. There was a slight glimmer to the left of the statues, on top of a building. Phyllis took a good look at what he was talking about, told Micheal to stop and rushed out the car. He ran out into the road, knelt down and pulled his dog-tags out of his boot. He stood up and presented his dog-tags toward whatever was glistening. After a few seconds of Phyllis waving his dog-tags around, the shimmer stopped and Phyllis sighed in relief. He got back in the car and got stares from both Micheal and Bonnie.
"What the hell was that?" Bonnie asked.
"Sniper." Phyllis said. "That's not good, considering we've got a Brotherhood guy in the back." Micheal drove the car further up the hill and under the statues. They were now in the middle of the Mojave Outpost. That would've been fine if they didn't have every NCR soldier and ranger there with their guns at the ready. One woman came down a set of makeshift stairs from one of the buildings and came up to them. Phyllis stepped out of the car again to meet with them.
"Ranger Phyllis. I should've known it was you." The woman distastefully said.
"Good to see you too, Ghost." Phyllis replied.
"Why the fuck are you here? Especially with a Brotherhood paladin." Ranger Ghost interrogated.
"He's not with the Western Brotherhood. He's Midwestern." Phyllis explained.
"Weren't your orders to go East and find weak points in the Legion?" She asked.
"No. My mission was to go East and find anything that can give us an edge over the Legion." Phyllis said.
"So, you brought the Brotherhood. Typical." Ghost said.
"No. I brought him." Phyllis turned and pointed to Micheal sitting in the drivers seat. The Prodigy waved.
"Phyllis, I expect nothing of you. Yet, I'm still disappointed." She said. "That's a child. A literal teenager. What could he possibly do?"
"Hey, I've seen this kid do pull some impossible shit. He's one of the brightest minds this side of the Wasteland." Phyllis said.
"That's not a lot, coming from you." She insulted.
"Look, we just need to get on the I-15. Who's the sergeant here? Let me speak to them." Phyllis said.
"I'll let you speak to him, but I don't think he'll let you through. Even if he does, you have a shit ton of paperwork to sign." Ghost said. She lead Phyllis inside one of the two buildings and left the rest of the gang with the car. Micheal looked over and saw a trader with a caravan looking at the car.
"Nice car." The trader said.
"Nice Brahmin." Micheal replied. "You're a trader, right?"
"Yeah." The trader confirmed.
"You sell food or water?" Micheal asked.
After about half an hour of signing paperwork, Phyllis finally obtained the necessary validations to go into California. He stepped out of the building and back to the car. The rest of the gang were able to get the rest of the supplies, so they were all set to go. Phyllis hopped back in the car and leaned against the seat.
"We good to go?" Bonnie asked.
"Yeah. We're good." Phyllis confirmed. "Hit it." Some of the soldiers opened the metal fence that blocked the road and the way was all clear for them. Micheal stepped on the gas and drove out of the Mojave Outpost and onto Interstate 15, or the Long 15 if you were walking. They were two hours into driving along the I-15 and they passed old, burnt out cities turned NCR outposts, NCR camps and caravan's. It was definitely NCR territory. Two hours into the drive and, eventually, they finally saw it on the side of the road. It was like they had finally reached the pearly gates. On the side of the road was an old blue sign with yellow flowers painted on and writing in cursive font that read 'Welcome to California'. They made it. They've finally reached California. Now, the only problem was to try and find Arroyo.