Chapter 6: Mill Three Cards

"Just a couple of hard-working losers. Y'know, the kind we like to refer to as 'suckers.'"

— 14 —

Raelyn.

I crouched down, examining the bullet. While the bullet was still in the casing, the gunpowder was removed to make room for a little leather strap, turning it into a necklace. Someone had carved "Raelyn" into the bullet.

"Would you quit going through my stuff , Ozzy?" she asked.

"Well, I'm not going to watch you bathe," I said.

After giving her my last stimpak, neither she nor I were in any good condition to do much of anything. She'd doubled back over the railroad bridge, past the old ruins outside Forevergreen Mills, and towards an old gang safehouse of hers. There wasn't much in them. Apparently the townspeople had raided his place, but she was able to find some clothes and an old scissorblade. Like, it was a sword that looked like half of a giant pair of scissors. Very Huntsman.

The necklace, though. That was something Connie had brought for her. Something the townsmen had stolen from her. He'd wanted to give it back to her when trying to rescue her, but we all saw how that ended.

"What, afraid of a pair of tits?" she mocked, stepping out of the water. It was a little pond formed from river runoff. Only mildly radioactive. And light from an old streetlight that was, somehow, still on. "OoOooh, nipples. Spooky. How will you ever recover?"

"It's just wrong. Would be rude of me."

She laughed. "That suit's for real, huh? You're actually from a fucking vault. Have to be. Surprised there's still any of those still around."

"Surprised you're even bathing," I countered.

"Blood makes noise," she said simply.

"What's that mean?"

"Something that Ashe says. I don't want to be covered in the stuff."

"As in the big bad raider boss Ashe?" I asked. "He encourages bathing?"

"It's a northern thing of his," she said dismissively. I felt her wet hand on my shoulder. "Now move."

I stepped away, looking at the ruins. The lights of Forevergreen Mills were distant, off to the side and across the river. I found my attention arrested by the great green glow.

"Don't stare; you'll cause a storm," she said.

"At what?"

"Nightglow out there," Raelyn said.

"What is it?"

She sighed. "A place you don't wanna get near unless you wanna grow a second head and die. We get storms from out that way sometimes. Staring too long at it makes 'em happen. C'mon, I gonna have to explain to you literally everything?"

"Probably."

Raelyn groaned. "Rhoa rape me with a rock, kid."

"I think it's sacrilegious to use the goddess of beauty's name like that," I said with a half-scowl.

"Like some dead sky bitch is gonna care," Raelyn scoffed.

She walked in front of me, running her hands through her short black hair. Her leather hide armor had a homemade Huntsman look to it in how it was both vaguely overdesigned and vaguely lacking. Like how the pants were thigh-highs, or how the sleeves were just long gloves. Exposed thigh and shoulder. I could make out fresh bandages under it all.

"Won't be long till they realize I escaped," she said. "Personally, I'd like to stick around and kill as many of the fuckers who come to check the tree. But that'd only last so long before they pull out all the guns."

"Yeah," I said. "Which sucks. I'd been hoping to use them to supply food to my vault."

She gave a sidelong look. "Just take it. Vaults got advanced technology, right?"

"From my perspective, you taking a bath makes you the most technology advanced thing I've seen."

"Haha. Now go use that advanced vault shit and just take what you need. Doubt anyone could stop you. Become the biggest, baddest gang around. It's what I'd do."

"And your way got your tribe slaughtered."

She whirled on me, grabbing my collar. "Say that again. See where it fucking gets you, vault meat! I'm being nice to you. You don't want to play by the rules of the Wasteland, that's on you. But Forevergreen Mills was complex. Lot of shit went fucked."

I shoved Raelyn away. "Near as I can tell, you were some kind of warlord and the people weren't happy."

"It's complicated," she spat. "Shit was fucked up in town. We found out and the locals got pissy. Got rivals of ours to help get rid of us. And I didn't run things. I was just proactive. Place was getting better than before we found it."

We stood there, staring down at each other.

"In any case," I said tersely, "I can't go there no more. I need to find somewhere else to supply the vault."

She laughed. "You're stupid, you know what? Because they don't know you did it. You could just walk in there and say 'oh no, big bad bitch escaped, I tried to stop her but she was too badass for me,' and they'd love you."

I blinked. "I… shit."

Raelyn sighed deeply, folding her arms. "The tree was a way from town. On the road up towards the inner island for a reason. So if you go down into town, ain't like they're… have a… reason to…" She tilted her head. "Holy shit I have an idea. I think we can help each other."

"We?" I intoned.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said mockingly. "When you followed me here, I presumed I wasn't gonna be able to get rid of you. Figured I'd make use of you while you're with me."

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Sure you didn't just want to stare at my ass—wait, no," she said, waving her hand as if to clear a bad odor, and started laughing. "You were actually concerned. That's fucking hilarious, kid."

"Oh, no, I tried that," I said, annoyed. "But you didn't have an ass in the first place, so I gave up."

Raelyn snorted. "I like how sad your jabs are. Like a little puppy. With down's syndrome. Like you're trying and that's all that matters." She reached out to pat my hand, and I ducked away from her.

"Point is, kid," she said, smiling toothily. "I think we can help each other. You wanna help your secret isolated vault, and I want to get back at the fuckers who killed my people. This is a once in a full moon opportunity!"

"If you want me to kill everyone and help you take back over, I'm right out," I said flatly.

"I don't really care about the Mills. It's dead and gone now. "She leaned back, turning her head to look at me over her shoulder. "But, Peaches been feuding with the Boogeymen for a while. Euchre used 'em and now they're holed up in town. I bet your sweet ass that hot bitch'll want 'em gone too before they get ideas to stick around. And then look who shows up but some mysterious stranger with some pre-war tech on his arms and a nasty right hook. She'll think you're stupid putty and try to use you, but you'll be on my side. Help her out, help me out, and fuck over the Boogeymen for all they done."

"So you want me to get manipulated by some woman and help you take out some scary-sounding gang."

She waved her hand, giving me an exasperated look. "No, they're cream puffs. Anyone who calls themselves 'Boogeymen' or 'Laughing Skulls' are trying too hard. You can tell they're nothing special. A name like 'Peaches' or 'Free Blowjobs,' that is a gang you want to run the fuck away from."

I squinted. "There's a gang called 'Free Blowjobs?'"

"They're fun at parties," she said off-handedly. "Point is, you go in, act your normal dumb self, and help me out. You make friends in there, I avenge my family."

"I don't see why I need you, then," I said, folding my arms. "I could just do my thing and forget you."

"You'll be earning my eternal thanks?" she said sweetly, putting her hands to her cheeks. Coming from her the gesture inspired cold shivers.

"That sounds somehow ominous," I said skeptically. "Gimme something better."

"Ugh," she said, rolling her eyes. "You're the worst white knight I ever met."

"Because I'm a Huntsman. I slay monsters."

"Yeah, 'cause you definitely don't slay pussy," she said dryly.

I glared at her. The comment reminded me too much of Hailee's sense of humor. Enough to make me uncomfortably homesick. "Still waiting for a compelling reason to help you, Rae."

She tapped a finger to her tongue. "Because outside this part of the island, I still have a lot of friends. More friends than the Boogeymen have enemies. You want to help your tribe, right? Trade and caravans and other nation-building stuff. Well, the only two people who can really do that aside from smallholds like the Mills are the Odious King and Ashe. Maybe the Rangers, but you're on the wrong side of the island for them. So it's the Odious King or Gabriel Ashe."

I thought back to my first night out here. I'd claimed to be with someone named Ashe, scaring the raiders enough they almost backed off. "Whose lot you with?"

"The Ashen, of course," she said, almost offended. "I'm up there on the ranking board for a reason. The Boogeymen were too, till they tried tossing in with the King. Ashe has a big bounty out on their leader for the way they fucked him. Fucked me, too. All they really do is fuck people. So, help me get rid of them, and I'll put in a good word for you with Ashe. Put it all together and he'll defs want to help you."

"So while I do all the heavy lifting, you do, what, stand here glaring angrily at town?"

She laughed. "That and fucking up their supplies. They're gonna be scared and I'm gonna do what an Ashen does best."

"So are you an Ashen or a Peach?"

"Peaches were Ashen."

"They sound scary," I said. "Must mean they didn't get the naming memo."

She groaned. "If you want a stick, I'll be happy to tell people 'You know that nice piece of vault ass? He saved me. Totally blame him for everything I do.'"

"Oh, blackmail. Classy."

She shrugged. "I'm putting all my cards out there. You gonna help me or not, loverboy?"

I stared at her, thinking. The plan was vague, half thought out, and I certainly was missing a lot of context. I also didn't like the threat. It was the kind of downright offensive manipulation that made me want to mash her head in for thinking I was that dumb.

Until I felt Ozpin.

"In the old days, Huntsmen were never alone," he said ponderously, like something trying to work up the courage to confess to their crush. "From the moment they arrived at an academy, we threw them together to form lifelong partners. She might not be a good partner right now, but I think she can be salvaged."

"What's with that face?" she asked me. She waved her hands in front of me and snapped her fingers. "We got a deal or what?"

"I feel like I'm being manipulated by vague promises," I said.

"Sure are," she said happily. "But you don't know anyone else in the Wasteland, do you? I'm your best shot at navigating things out there. Of getting what you want."

I reluctantly held out a hand. "How badly am I gonna regret this?"

"About a seven," she said, a glint in her red irises.

— 15 —

"Arbuckle, is that you?" a green-haired woman yelled as I approached the gates of town. "What the fuck took you all?" She paused. "Wait, here's the rest of you?"

"She killed them all!" I called out, stumbling towards the gate. My knee hurt with the motion. It helped sell the act. "I was there. She just escaped the tree and killed them all. I, I tried to stop her, but—fuck, I need a doctor."

"I told you, ma!" a boy called out. He poked his head over the gate. Couldn't have been older than thirteen. His rifle looked comically small in his hands. "Those gunshots weren't only twelve gauge and 9mm. There were other calibers in that!"

Illuminated by streetlights in the town behind her, the woman's face darkened. "She… what?"

I fell against the wooden gates. "Let me the fuck in. She's still out there! I fought her off but I'm still not in the best way."

"Yancy, get help. Mister, hold on, just one second!"

The wood-and-scrap-metal gate creaked open and I slipped in through before it was even fully ajar. Inside was the first ever town I'd ever seen in my life. Lit by old streetlights, Forevergreen Mills centered around a large factory and its railyard. The town itself was large, a couple cleaned up pre-war streets and a section built from wood and fixed-up rubble from the ruins around it. Even had a couple trees more lively than the shriveled-up brown things just outside. Lots of the buildings had bullet holes from a recent fight.

I don't know why, but I felt this place should have been more homey. Something safe behind walls where someone could put down roots. But the place was too uncomfortably open. It wasn't that I was agoraphobic, I don't think. No more than any vault dweller would be. But this place just did not strike me as somewhere people would want to live, least of all myself.

The young boy slid down a ladder to my side. I swore he was half my height. For a moment we just stared at each other, and then he gasped. "Oh shit!"

"Yancy!" his mother yelled. "Language!"

"Ma, he's hurt! Bad!"

I touched a hand to my chest. The stimpak had pushed out the bit of sword, but the blood was still fresh. As was the wound on my back. The several wounds. A lot of blood, really.

Without prompting, he tried to grab and hold me up in a way that didn't work right without size difference. "Hold on, mister! I'll get you to the doctor!"

"Whoa, hold on," I tried.

"No, c'mon! Watchmen save people! I'm gonna save you!"

"Damnit!" his mother called out. "Yance, I got it! I—" She gave up with a loud groan. "Get him to the doctor. I'll get everyone else."

"You got it, ma!"

He wound up leading into the part of town reclaimed from the old ruins. "Old town," he called it. Up to a building with a prominent pink heart outside it on a sign.

"Doc! Doc!" he called out, bringing me through the front door.

I had expected a white, sterilized clinic like the one in Vault 4. Now sure, the building beyond was clear. But it had a very haphazard feel to it. A waiting room with the back wall broken down to make room for curtained-off little rooms. A man lay curled-up on a couch, wearing a navy blue jumpsuit and, of all things, a scuba tank on his back.

"Agh, Yance?" he asked, groaning into the old sofa. "Stop it. No. Go away. I was finally done for the day."

"Raelyn's alive and killing people!" he said.

The doctor shot up, and I shoved the kid away, stumbling towards the door. The middle-aged doctor had these weird fleshy growths by his nose, all long and dangly. He'd geled those little tendrils to his face so they looked like a handlebar mustache. The sides of his neck were all ripped up, almost like gills.

"Gods fuck—your face!" I stammered.

He inhaled deeply, patiently. Then screamed, pantomiming me. "Gah, fuck—it's like I'm tying to insult the only doctor for miles, I sure do want to live!"

"It's okay, mister," Yancy said, grabbing my arm. "He's good people. Just a mutant."

"Faunus," the doctor snapped.

"Yeah, it's a kind of mutant," he said helpfully.

The doctor shot the boy a look, his face tendrils curling like fists. "Look, bring the man to a bed. This one. No, not there. Someone's in that room!"

I sat down on an old bed that, while ostensibly clean, smelled off. "I used a stimpak," I said, pulling my face back from the doctor as he looked me over.

"A few. I can tell. Raelyn's doing?"

"Yeah," I said. Not entirely a lie.

"Lacerations and bone injuries to the leg and arm," he said to himself. "You're lucky to be alive if that's all Raelyn did." He took a deep breath. "You're sure it was her?"

"Quick killer, completely naked, hate so strong in the eyes you can't look at them, right?"

He chuckled mirthlessly. "Sounds like how we left that whore."

"Momma said don't use that word," Yance said.

The doctor scowled. "Why are you still here? Go, shoo! Your mom probably needs you." He pulled his scuba mask down from over his face to one of the rents in his neck. His tank pumped like he was breathing from it. Suddenly he looked a lot more awake. "You got caps?"

"Not much," I admitted.

He made a face. "No matter. I'm sure someone will pay me for this. Someone in town guilty or whatever for letting Raelyn hurt travelers. Gonna be a lot of people who want to talk to you."

His expression deepened. "Stop staring at me like that."

"Your face is just, I mean—I'm sorry."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Yes yes, you're a poorly evolved monkey, and I'm perfectly suited to treat wounds. I don't blame your ignorance. I will, however, use that as my reasoning for why I didn't use painkillers."

I blinked. "Wait, hold on. Hold on. What're you doing? This is all going by too fast!"

"My job," he said like I were stupid. "Now, does this rag smell like chloroform to you?"

— 16 —

"Ozrick," Ozpin said, his tone almost lazy. "Far be it from me to tell you what to do, but you might want to wake up. Just a suggestion."

"I regret all of this," I said groggily, clawing myself awake

"Not everything is bad. Seeing a faunus is actually a good sign," Ozpin remarked.

I stared up at the ceiling. The scratched, chipped, and only half-assedly painted ceiling. "You mean fish man?"

"Yes," he remarked. "Vale never had good relations with them. Exceptionally so during the Second Great War. I'm glad to see they're still around."

"So, he's not a mutant?" I asked. "Because, I saw that bloodhound. Mutants have to be a real thing."

"Depending on the definition, mutants were always a thing," Ozpin said evasively. "Did you know the first real Huntsmen were seen as mutants?"

"Don't need the history lesson," I groaned. "Please go away so I stop feeling sick."

He did. Eventually I was able to sit up and look around the room.

And found I was in my underwear. The subtle swing of a ceiling fan made me shiver. Sunlight filtered in through a window. Distantly, someone was shouting.

I got to my feet, and was surprised when my knee didn't hurt as I landed on it. I gave my arm an experiment swing, and it felt great. But where was my gear? My weapons? Sure, I felt fine. Really good, even. But the idea that the doctor had stripped me and, I don't know, let his face tendrils touch all over me made my skin crawl.

Even if he had fixed me up somehow, the scars were there to stay. They looked white, well-healed, but there was no avoiding them. Combat scars. And I'd only been outside, what, maybe two days? I shuddered to think of how awful I'd look when I finally returned home to Vault 4.

I followed the shouting to the front of the clinic, not entirely concerned I was wearing only a pair of bright blue Vault-Tec undies.

"I don't care if he needs to rest," a woman was saying. "Wake the lazy asshole up, Giles. If Raelyn is out there, he won't be the first. We gotta rally people and stop her or we're fucked."

"Euchre Laylee, calm down," the doctor said. I heard him suck down more water. "She's just one woman."

"How are you literally that retarded, doc? Have you seen her lead in the rankings?" she snapped. "I been out Five Wives way. No wonder those worthless Boogeymen fucks are scared." She groaned. "The longer they're here, the longer they think they can stick around. They do that and Raelyn's gonna haunt us like Grimm. Fuck all of this!"

I rounded the corner to see the mutant doctor and the woman. She was in her early thirties, pink hair in a ponytail. A round and pretty face. Wearing denims and an "Old Possum Malt Liquor" crop top that reminded me way too much of what my mother wore to work. They were around the same age, too. She had a tattoo of a joker card on her exposed midriff.

"I interrupting something?" I asked, and they all spun to me. "I can go pretend to be asleep a little longer if you'd like."

"Oh yeah," Doctor Giles said. "Also he's still naked. Shoulda mentioned that." He sucked in more water through his gills.

Euchre, however, eyed me up and down with a glint I didn't like in her eyes. She stood up straight, hands on her hips, puffing out her chest. "Well look at you! You heal up quickly."

"A moment ago you were calling me lazy," I said.

She made a talk-talk gesture with her hand. "Stressful times, y'know? Good to see all of you is alive. Who are you, by the way?"

"Ozrick. I'm a Huntsman."

She put a hand to her chin, nodding. The gesture was a little too animated for my tastes, like she was trying to act younger than she was. "Well, Ozrick Huntsman, I'd like to welcome you to Forevergreen Mills, and apologize for the nasty first encounter you had."

"Can I have my clothes back?" I asked, looking awkwardly around the room. I had a distinct impression that I could have played this off way cooler on my way, if only I was in more than my underwear. Some mysterious Huntsman roaming the land. Instead of whatever I was now.

Doc Giles fell down onto his couch and yawned. "Having them cleaned."

Euchre ran hands through her pink hair, straightening her ponytail. "I covered the doctor's bill too. You're welcome, by the way."

"I'm… happy you're the reason I'm currently naked," I said.

She laughed and winked. "You wish."

"No," I said, looking at the doctor so I didn't have to look at her. Even if those face tendrils were creepy. "I mean I currently have nothing to wear because someone stole my outfit."

Euchre's face fell. "Oh. Oh. Uh, well fuck."

"Not in my office, please," Giles said, looking up at her.

"Let me, uh, let me come riiiiight back, okay? Okay!" She darted out the front door, leaving me in awkward silence with the doctor.

He held up his scuba breather out to me. "Need some?"

"I, uh, I breathe air."

He rolled his eyes. "It's NatchPatch. Local kind of whiskey."

I squinted. "You breathe alcohol?"

Giles shrugged. "It's watered down technically, but, yeah."

"On the job?"

His mustache tendrils twitched. "When else would I ever want to drink?"

I… didn't have a good response to that. So I just wrung my hands. "So. Faunus. What's it like?"

Doc Giles stared at me. Sighed. Sucked down more NatchPatch into his gills. "Dunno. Wasn't really 'faunus' till I came to Vale. Prefer to think of myself by tribe. Nurse shark. Most of us do."

"But you said you were faunus."

He threw up a hand. "I gave up a long time ago trying to explain the nuances. Like how I'm giving up on this conversation. Right now."

I tried changing topics. "Euchre. Is she always like that?"

Giles laid back down on his couch and stared up at the ceiling fan. "Kid, go away. Talk to me again only when you next inevitably get shot."

After a long period of just awkwardly standing there, fiddling with my Pip-Boy, Euchre returned with my clothes. Actually cleaned. As in, free of dirt and blood. Even the holes were stitched up.

"So, real talk," she said as I changed into my clothes. "Why are you running around in a vault suit? I get that they're comfy, but you ain't exactly the vault dweller you might be expecting in a disaster like this."

Well that was a weird comment. I zipped the weighted suit up and shouldered my brown jacket. "Because I was born in a vault?"

"Aaaah," she said, nodding. "I guess that makes sense. They're like natural caves. I can see why your tribe might live in one. The old vault in Five Wives is still kind of comfy. Never heard of Vault 4, though. Or the Huntsmen tribe."

I opted not to correct her. Raelyn has described this woman in a way that made me mistrust her. While I wanted to try to get the town to supply my home with more food, I wanted to play my cards close to the chest for the moment.

Heh. Euchre. Cards.

"Sooooo," she drew out, looking at me.

"So?" I prompted, glancing at Giles for help. He waved a hand and went back to staring at the ceiling fan.

"What'd Raelyn say?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You're alive," she said, shifting her weight uncomfortable from one foot to another. "Obviously she wanted you to send a message. Do you know where she's going? What she's planning?"

"Dunno," I said. "I fought her off."

She scrunched her face up. "You what?"

"She stabbed me, so I punched her in the face until she stopped stabbing me," I said plainly. "It's a tactic as old as time itself."

"You… you mean you actually defeated her? One on one?"

"Like I said, I'm a Huntsman."

I could see the gears ticking behind her face. "…oh shit you're serious."

"I only lie to pretty girls," I said, but the insult went right past her. She was too lost in excited thought.

"Hey, Mister Huntsman, was it?"

"Ozrick."

"Ozrick," she said sweetly. "Would you mind coming with me? This place is getting stuffy. Too stuffy to talk."

"After covering my bills, figure I owe you at least that much."

"Grrreat," she said happily.

I wound up following her across the little settlement. During daylight hours, Forevergreen Mills reminded me of some of the smaller atriums back in Vault 4. Children playing outside with a dog. The smell of cooking food. Sounds of people working from within the old buildings. The only thing missing were the vault suits; these people dressed in hides or, like Euchre, decidedly pre-war looking clothes.

Then there were the men and women I passed in darker gear. Armored barding. All of them were armed.

"Don't mind the Boogeymen," she said, catching me staring. "There're not locals. Helped us get rid of the Peaches. That was Raelyn's raider tribe. And now," she added, gritting her teeth and smiling, "they seem to like sticking around."

A trio of them sat under an umbrella on a street corner. One of them, reclining back with a cigarette in her mouth and her right arm in a sling, tipped her hat at Euchre. The other two just stared at us in silence.

"Professional fucking loiterers," Euchre muttered.

"It's a nice town," I said idly. "I can see why they'd stick around."

"Sure it," she said. "Couple hundred people. Maybe near a thousand if you count all the outlying communities we're hub to. You can do a lot with that kinda manpower"

"Is that a lot of people in the Wasteland?"

"It's more than enough. Used to be even more, back when the Free Settlements existed. But that fell apart around when the Pale Plague started. Which was right after when Ashe and his pirates landed in Five Wives, like so many other immigrants. Been raiders and tribals ever since. Population uncertain."

"What's the Pale Plague?"

From the corner of my eye, a shop window, I saw Ozpin's face. He looked intense, even grave. And of course vanished as soon as I tried looking at him directly.

Euchre slowed down, shooting me an incredulous expression. "I get that it's less common here on Patch. Maybe only rarer in those star-touched whackjobs, if they're even real. But, c'mon. You gotta know."

"Know what?" I asked cautiously.

"Y'know," she said very slowly, "when babies come out wrong. Come out all silent and pale."

I heard Ozpin's voice like a murmur in the base of my throat. It was small, almost childlike. "Please don't say it started fifteen years ago."

I wanted to ask if the number in particular meant something, but that wasn't an option in public. I filed it away under "Mysteries For Later."

I shook my head.

She passed by a kid on the street and fist-bumped her. "Stay cool, Shirley." Then, to me, in a more somber tone: "Maybe the Huntsman tribe is just lucky."

"We were very isolated," I said.

"It shows," Euchre said with a snerk. She didn't elaborate, and I sensed it was a strangely sore topic.

We crossed over a little concrete bridge over the mill building's railroad. It made for a surprisingly good overwatch point for town. On the other side was a little set of buildings by the river docks. She led me into a building with the sign of two bottles of alcohol crossed over a string instrument as its only outside marking.

Inside was hardly empty. From the atmosphere and bottles of booze on the wall, I recognized this as a bar almost instantly.

"Heya, Euchre!" the boy behind the bar called out, waving. "Who's your friend?"

"Our little survivor from last night," she called back. "Hit us with two drinks."

"Can do, ma'am."

"Telling you, man," a man was saying loudly at a booth near the front. "Between the Ashen and the King, the King's got it in the bag. No reason to side with Ashe at all."

The man opposite him rolled his eyes. "Frank, that's dumb. You're dumb. Like I'm gonna side with some suntouched cult psycho no matter how many factories he might have. Ashe's got the lowland tribes behind him. Mostly, anyhow."

"Yeah, but what about their hearts, Yves? Their hearts!"

"The Kingsmen ain't go no hearts, Frank."

"Exactly! They're heartless bastards."

"'Cept for the ones they eat."

"Then each one of them has several hearts in their bellies. If you eat a man you gain his courage. Ashe's raiders ain't really loyal or brave. Just following the biggest raider around. They don't eat enough people's hearts!"

"...goddamnit, Frank."

Euchre patted the seat beside her and I obliged. The boy at the bar set us out two old tumblers and filled them with something golden-brown in color. At a look from the woman, he left the bottle on the counter.

"Like I said," she said, taking her glass. "I'm sorry your first jaunt into our wee little community ended up with you mildly stabbed. I promise you it's not normally like this. I've been trying to make it less like this for a while now."

I looked at my tumbler and back at her. "Are you the town's leader?"

She laughed, a tinkling kind of sound. "No, sweety. Not exactly. Though I feel I've got more balls than the sheriff. Someone's gotta try to make things better here." She sipped on her drink. "We've always had problems with raiders or local animals. Skin bandits too, that one time." Euchre grimaced. "But we've always managed. Kinda have to when you're this far inland. We got trade, safety, and are on a main road. Always one problem after another."

"From the way you're acting, if Raelyn were gone, the next problem would be the Boogeymen," I said.

Euchre cocked a brow. "Now ain't you perceptive."

"I pride myself on my deductive reasoning abilities," I said.

The woman finished her drink and exhaled sharply, bouncing in place slightly. "Which is why I think you showing up is perfect. You're not from around here and, apparently, you can fight well enough to scare Raelyn off."

I frowned. "And here I thought you were just interested in my company. I'm heartbroken, Euchre."

She smiled thinly, grabbing the bottle of alcohol with both hands. "Don't sell yourself short. I'm sensing an opportunity here. I'm not the kind of girl to enjoy someone's company while everything I know and love is in danger." She flashed me a look. "That's where you come in."

Euchre moved her hands on the bottle in a motion I found vaguely masturbatory, coyishly looking away. I suppressed a grimace. She was trying to be subtle, or at least, acting like she was trying to be subtle. It brought back uncomfortable memories. There'd been a time when I went to the big bar beneath Vault 4's Atrium, about the only place people from Westside and Eastside mingled. Very important to keeping the social peace in the vault. Looking for my mother, I found her there, doing much the same thing with a similar bottle, smiling into the eyes of one of the vault's essential personnel.

It had been her job, I knew on some level. The smiles, the fliration, the physical contact with patrons. The bar made sure to hire only the most attractive females with the most appealing personalities for a reason. It was all part of the game. But that didn't mean I didn't wind up clocking the fucker out when he grabbed mom's ass. It got me thrown into the brig for the night; security's main job was patrolling the bar to keep the peace. Somehow mom managed to convince the man not to press charges.

As I looked at Euchre, I saw my mom. Maybe a version of my mother who hadn't given birth to me when she was fourteen. And I couldn't help but find her unsettling.

"How so?" I asked cautiously.

"Raelyn isn't after us, not entirely," she said. "Her problem is with the Boogeymen. They're a rival tribe. They showed up to help us get rid of the Peaches, but now don't want to leave. Same idea the Peaches had. Except the Peaches didn't have a huge bounty on their heads. But people are scared of them, but in a sense that they think they can help. Their leader is trying to promise he can help us, again like Peaches, but I don't think he's anything we can rely on. I say we try to solve our own problems, you and me. Well, mostly you."

"How so?"

She smiled. "Raiders. The half-feral kind descendant from Black Bandit's bastard horde. They were one of the problems we faced. Peaches promised to get rid of them before getting…" She made a circular gesture, as if trying to pull the correct words from thin air. "Invariably sidetracked. If you get rid of them in my name, well, we can show people we don't need some big scary 'civilized' raiders."

"You want me to… kill people?" I asked dubiously.

"Raiders, not people," she said, shooting me a look like I should know better. "You help me out here and we can prove we don't need the Boogeyman. We can use them to get rid of them. And then you can use them as bait to draw Raelyn out. Kill her and call it a day. You can keep the credit and reward for them, and…" She ran her finger on the rim of her glass. "We'll figure out something for you, too."

That actually matched with what Raelyn said, which surprised me. Sure, Euchre was sloppily trying to manipulate me, and she wanted me to murder people, but her story about the Boogeymen didn't contradict Raelyn. The raider bitch's entire plan was to get the Boogeymen out and pick them off.

"Gimme something concrete," I said.

For a moment, a ghost of annoyance passed by her eye. "Thousand caps. Two hundred for the raiders, another seven hundred hundred for helping me get rid of the Boogeymen. And you'll always have a place here in Forevergreen Mills in your travels."

"I'm looking to establish trade routes between my people and those with food."

She grinned. "Oh we got that. Lots of freeholds around here supply us. Trading hub and everything. Just, nothing we can commit to while we have so much threatening us, from within and without."

I nodded, satisfied. "I'll see what I can do. Do you—"

The door slammed open. "Euchre, you goofy bitch!" a man with a wild, scratchy voice called out. In walked a man with the most amazing collar I'd ever seen. It was large and popped, giving him the appearance of having his head inside a soup bowl, except the inside of the collar was glowing softly with red illuminium.

"Not even a fucking day in and you're already thinking we can't handle a little snag," he said, adjusting his sunglasses. "Who's this pup?"

"Uh, hi. I'm Ozrick. I'm a Huntsman. And I—"

The man walked up and grabbed my arm. "Oooh, the kid who fought Raelyn and survived. Didn't expect to find you here, but fuck it, that's perfect! I can see a plan right before my eyes, and it's glorious. Listen here, kid, I heard 'bout the shit with Raelyn. Tragic. Stupid, but tragic. And apparently you know how to fight. I like the gun you got, too. I got a cousin with one just like it."

"Goddamnit, Giles, you oversharing shark," Euchre mumbled, a bitter look on her face. "Hoss, you leave that boy alone."

"Nuh-uh, no way!" Hoss said, pulling me to my feet with him. "You are planning something because that's what you does. Now, normally, I'd probably just kill you to stomp out the competition. Tried that with Raelyn. Worked pretty good, baby. But I'm a changed man now. I seen the light or something. Or, y'know, just how much money you can make going legit. And I like this here town."

"Hoss," Euchre hissed, standing up.

He held out a meaty hand her way, looking at me. "So whatever she's offering you, Ozzy, I'll double it."

"A thousand caps," I said, and Euchre gave me a sneering look.

"I'll match it!" he amended agreeably. "And give you a place in the baddest gang in town, I will. Because we killed every other gang. Just so long as you help us with a problem."

Euchre folded her arms and groaned heavily. "Really? You're really gonna try this right here?"

He smiled at her with a mouth that lacked about as many teeth as it possessed. "I made this town a promise, sweetheart. I'm the good guy now. So I can't just blow your brains out with my beautiful quad barreled baby like I normally would." He reached out and patted her head. She snapped her teeth at him. "Whoa, whoa, easy there girl. Save that for later when you finally realize I'm the big hero this town needs. Starting with how me and, uh, vault boy here are gonna clear out that den of raiders not far from here."

"Funny," she deadpanned. "I'm looking at 'em now."

"Don't I get a say in any of this?" I asked. "Guys, hello? I'm still here. Guys!"

Hoss dragged me further away. "Peaches failed the town. We drove 'em out. Now the Boogeymen are gonna, uh, what's the opposite of fail?"

"Succeed?" Frank, the man in the booth, helpfully supplied.

"Yeah, that. We're gonna succeed the town." He beamed. "Starting with clearing out all the little problems bothering it. Gonna fix shit up. And y'all gonna learn to see why you want to keep us around, and people like Raelyn out. C'mon, Orrick!"

"Ozrick," I said as he dragged me out of the bar, smiling the whole way.

Oh gods, the harsh light of day! The illumium of his collar glowed brighter for the light.

"Listen, I know Euchre looks nice," he said, carrying me along with him. "But she's, like, she can't see the long term. Something wrong with her head. Like, uh, like if she was a man, she's the kind of freak who'd see a big ol' pair of titties and don't get no hard-on. He'd be all, 'Nah, them titties are nice; no way I'm getting them, so I won't even try.' And it's like, nah, brotha, you ain't no man. You just a shy idiot. You know what you do when you see big titties, boy?"

It took me a moment to formulate a reply to that. "You… get a hard-on?"

He slapped my back and laughed. It sent me stumbling. "Perfect, boy! You'll fit in perfectly. You see titties and go 'Mine!' And if she goes 'Nah, not yours,' you gotta teach a bitch why she wrong."

"Are you my dad?"

Hoss belly-laughed. "I don't think so. But I'm an open-minded man with open-minded ideas. Very open-minded morals, too, if it means keeping what's mine mine, and dumb cunt like Raelyn dead like a dumb cunt s'posed to be."

"...holy shit you really are willing to match Euchre's offer," I said at a loss.

Hoss had dragged me to one of the gates. "I do have an offer!" he said with glee. "This area's dangerous. You got wild animals. Feral raiders. Fully scorched, sometimes. And, y'know, other existential threats to our very way of life."

"That's a big word; are you sure you know what it means?"

"It means the Boogeymen are stretched thin. We need to focus on what we can. Bad enough the scouts we sent out into the wilds vanished." He tugged on that fucking magnificent collar of his. "I want your Raelyn-fighting skills. Help us deal with a little band of raider dumb-dumbs holed up not far from here."

"How many tribes of you are there?" I asked.

"Pff," he said, waving a hand. "If I could count more than, like, however this many is." He held up three fingers. "I'd be some numbers boy, and not the smartest elder any tribe in these parts has. That's a Pip-Boy, right?"

Before I could respond, he grabbed my arm and started poking at it. He fat-fingered several of the buttons before finally doing something on my map. "There. See this place? Bad guys there. Kill literally all of them for me and you'll be doing us a service. Don't come back until you do, or we'll shoot ya dead."

Hoss winked and shoved me outside the town gate.

I just stood there as the gates shut behind me.

"Good luck!" a Boogeyman raider said cheerily, waving at me from atop the gate. "But for real, we will shoot you if you don't do the thing." He held up a rifle. "Starting in, like, I don't know. Hey, Hoss, what's a good number?" He paused. "How many numbers do I gotta count before I get there?"

I just started walking, mouth hanging open. I crossed over the Mill's train tracks, passed the hanging tree, where Arbuckle and friends' bodies had been removed, and over the bridge into the ruins.

At some point, Raelyn found me. "Judging from that face, I see you've met Hoss."

"I feel like I'm the only child during a messy divorce," I said blankly. "That whole town is fucked."

"Bet," she chirped. "So, what'd they ask you to do? Judging from the lack of fire, you probably didn't murder them all in fit of sanity like any reasonable person would do."

"They want me to play errand boy to earn their trust or something."

Raelyn shrugged. "If it involves murder, I'm in. I'm all for the sweet irony of betraying people's trust because they're assholes who should die. Let's go, kid."

50% to next level