Chapter Text
To use the word “town” to describe Filly was only in the loosest interpretation. A more apt description would conjure something like the scrap metal and temporary residences that hobos used to build near railroad tracks. Merchants hocked questionable looking meat, while shop owners advertised prices for any unnecessary body part you might be willing to part with. You had been alive for over 240 years and still the depravity of the human race astounded you.
Granted, most of that time you were kept in a glorified freezer, but still, this new and savage world still mostly functioned on the strong bulldozing the weak. Kind gestures were all but forgotten, and you found yourself missing the strangest things. For instance, if someone was to greet you with a “Good morning!” you would probably die of shock. These people were more likely to spit at you than to hold a conversation.
You kept your hand on your revolver as you strolled through town. When people noticed you, and they usually did, they might mistake your casual and confident walk as one of naivety. You were petite and smooth skinned. If they caught your eye, however, they might just notice that spark of something “other”, and that tended to make people keep their distance. For the most part.
In the center of Filly, a sign board on the side of a bounty office advertised several bounties available for capture. A tall man in a tattered trench coat stood in front of it examining his options. His hat was pulled low across his face, but it could not cover the absence of his nose. Ghouls were a fairly common sight. Radiation having its way on a human body was almost unavoidable. As a group you had found ghouls to be just as easy to get along with as anyone else, but the potential ferality of them gave the entire group a bad reputation.
As you approached the board you nodded your head at the ghoul in acknowledgement. He tilted his head examining you through bright hazel eyes.
“Anything good?” you asked as you looked over the number of caps offered on each page.
“Nothin’ to speak of.” came his quiet reply.
He was absolutely right. The offerings were dismal. It probably wasn’t that there were no criminal’s worth hunting down in this place. Hell, everyone was some kind of criminal these days. It was more likely no one had the caps to spare. You had enough at the moment to have the luxury of waiting for a good bounty, but maybe the ghoul didn’t. You examined him again out of the corner of your eye.
He had definitely been in the wastes for a while. His skin looked like a topographical map. The tone of it was similar to the red clay you might find in the dessert. However, his cheekbones sat high on his face giving him a rather proud distinction, and those eyes were filled with intelligence. Probably far more than you would find in the minds of the rest of Filly’s residents.
A strong wind blew in from the wastes and fluttered through the papers on the sign board. A faded page caught your eye as it peeked out from underneath another. Your hand and the ghouls both reached out, but you caught it off the board first. This one looked promising. It was old. That meant more than likely the wastrel who was wanted had plenty of time to be on the move, but the caps were good.
“Listen Darlin’, I do believe I was here first.” The ghoul gestured to the paper in your hand indicating that you should hand it over. He reinforced the idea with his other hand as he rested it on his gun.
You cocked an eyebrow and let the full intensity of your gaze to connect with his. “Now, now there’s no reason not to be civil,” you flipped the page so he could see it but did not hand it over, “I believe there’s more than enough here for the both of us.”
“What might you be suggesting?” The ghoul kept his hand on his gun but seemed inclined to remain civil.
“A partnership. 50/50.”
The ghoul looked at you like you had mutated a second head. “And just why in the hell would I be tempted to work with a tiny little smooth skin, when I know for a fact, I’d probably be doing most of the damn heavy lifting?”
You laughed, “Funny you should phrase it that way, but I understand. I’m more than happy to do it by myself, just thought I’d be polite.” You shrugged nonchalantly.
Now this ghoul was definitely no fool. Any other bounty hunter would have backed down rather easily or at least flinched when he’d pulled his gun. You were making no move to grab the revolver he could clearly see around your waist. That meant that either you were utterly stupid and had no regard for your own life, or you had a trick up your sleeve to back up that ridiculously confident tone. He was about to try and gauge you better when a shot rang out. The bullet clipping him in the shoulder.
A voice shouted from somewhere behind a pile of scrap, “This here town ain’t welcome to yer kind! Get the fuck outta here before the next one gets you between the eyes. Think you can recover from that?”
The ghoul looked mildly irritated at the interruption, but also resigned as he returned fire and took cover behind a dilapidated wagon. More shots rang out from several points around you hitting the corners and sides of the wagon and blowing the already sorry looking thing into even more pieces.
You folded the paper with the bounty on it and stuck it into the pocket of your shirt as the bullets continued to fly. A man that had been selling vegetables from a cart ran full tilt away from the carnage. You tossed a cap into his jar as you grabbed a couple of bright orange carrots. Munching on them as you leaned up against the corner of a house with a good view of the action.
The ghoul was holding his own. Not only was he an excellent shot, taking down the first three men easily, but he also seemed to predict where the next good opening would appear. A real master observer of body language and timing. His body moved fluidly and the air around him seemed almost charged with energy.
The sting of bullets didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest. He was easily commanding attention from each and every person left in the vicinity. He was larger than life, engaging with opponents left and right. Always with a distinct style and upper handed grace. The fire fight seemed to be heading for an obvious conclusion as the ghoul casually shot and disarmed each opponent… until he started coughing.
The sputtering and shaking went from gradual to completely debilitating in a matter of seconds. The ghoul took a round to the thigh and fell forward, convulsing as he hit the ground. The remaining assailants took the opportunity to converge on the ghoul to finish the job. As they neared the figure huddled on the ground, your hand traveled almost involuntarily to your gun.
“Now boys, this hardly seems like a fair fight.” The words rolled of your tongue, sounding from behind them and taking them completely off guard. Who on earth would willingly defend a ghoul?
The surprise wore off quickly and they were turning toward you with their guns ready. They looked as if they might have a total of three teeth between the two of them. One was quite simply covered in dirt. Both had matted hair and blood shot eyes. Seeing that you were in fact just a silly fragile creature they might be able to manipulate into a mess, their guns lowered. Brown and yellow smiles appeared on their faces.
“Listen girly, if I want to shoot a goddamn ghoul, I will. Ain’t got nothin’ ta do with you. Why don’t you go sit that pretty little ass of yours up there on that porch, and we can sort something out when I’m finished.” The dirty one gestured toward the other side of the street.
Not to be outdone, the second man who was at least five inches shorter grabbed his crotch suggestively and winked at you. They never saw you draw your gun. You were a shift on the breeze, a blur in their retinas.
The grimier of the two, lost most of his right hand as you blew the digits off in a spray of crimson. The short man nearly had his gun halfway up before you put a hole in his foot. Crossing the distance between you in a few purposeful strides, you disarmed them. In as little as a fraction of a second the only protection they were now afforded was your own patience and benevolent mood.
Using the butt of the dirty man’s stolen shotgun you smashed it into each of their faces, effectively knocking out both of them, as well as any of the remaining teeth they had. Then you dug through their belongings in search of what you needed. If those red eyes were anything to go by, these guys should have some vials close at hand.
You found a vial in the second pocket you checked. Looking at the dull yellow color of the liquid made your skin crawl. You made your way over to the still coughing and convulsing ghoul. Leaning him up against the cart once more you checked his pockets for an inhaler. Finding it easily, you slid the vial into position and then cupped the back of his head as you pressed it into his mouth.
He inhaled, looking at you with disbelieving eyes. His skin was rough and warm beneath your fingers. The sun beat down on the two of you, and you realized his hat had fallen off in the struggle and was now laying in the dirt. After you got another slow inhale of the chemicals into him you placed his hand over the inhaler and grabbed it for him. Plopping it back on his head.
“There now, don’t want you getting a sunburn.” You winked as you stood.
The hacking coughs seemed to finally be subsiding. You quickly rifled through the rest of the unconscious man’s pockets, finding one more vial which you handed to the ghoul wordlessly.
As you turned to walk away, the ghoul’s deep voice rasped out from behind you, “I don’t know what the hell that was, but I hope you’re not expecting much in the way of gratitude.”
“Not particularly,” You smile without turning around, “Seems to me those boys only had one brain cell, and they were treating it awful bad batting it back and forth between the two of them like that. I was only giving it a rest.”
The ghoul used the wagon for support as he got to his feet and quickly pocketed the extra vial you had handed him. He seemed almost uncertain as he leaned against it and adjusted his hat. His poker face was probably flawless. Only the faintest trace of an expression ever passed over his features. He looked at you like someone might look at an abstract painting. The colors didn’t seem to form the image correctly, but there was still a bizarre desire to understand.
You doubted he would pull his gun on you again over the bounty in your pocket, but no one can ever be certain of anyone in the wastelands. Despite his unrelenting coughing fit, he had held his own with a whole posse of angry assholes. That kind of finesse with a gun just couldn’t be taught. You could use that kind of skill.
Turning back towards him slightly, you caught his eyes once more. “Did you happen to rethink your stance on being partners?”
“You know what Darlin’? I believe I have.”