Denver Dogs

Chapter 2: Magnum Chasma

Fern and Collin were walking across the dusty ground, the only things locking the soil to the ground being the few shrubs or cactus and the lack of any serious winds at the moment. The sun beat down on the backs of the pair, who trekked through the desert. Fern's brown leather jacket was tied around her waist, revealing her tank top stained with blood and sweat. Collin no longer wore his Legion garb, except for his bandana, which hung around his neck, his goggles, raised upon his forehead, and his fingerless gloves. He wore what clothes he could get on short notice and on a small budget. He wore a beaten up pair of second hand jeans and a thin, army green, canvas jacket. He had a pair of beat up combat boots on his feet, and a large bag hung from his shoulder, where je stored what little he owned. He didn't have much time to gather his belongings before they were found out, and had to split town. A few more bandages on the pair were what remained of the ordeal. Luckily, any bullet shot at them was returned by Fern, Except hers were a lot more accurate.

The sand under their feet was hot, and the sun beating down from above was even hotter. Fern's shirt was soaked with sweat, and from the look of it Collin's was too. Collin was even sweatier than Fern, but tried to not show his discomfort. Fern could see through him fairly easily, though. From the few days she had been with him, Fern had noticed he did that quite a bit. He almost always tried to hide any pain, disappointment, or discomfort, no matter how bad it was. Fern said nothing of it.

"Christ almighty, I need some shade..." groaned Fern.

"W-well you shou-ould've brought us-s s-straight to D-denver..." said her companion.

"I've gotta pick something up in Gran Abismo. Plus, if we go straight to Denver we'll be going straight through the center of Legion Territory. We gotta skirt around the edge."

"Magnum Ch-chasma is the h-heart of the Legion. Plus i-its the w-war front with the Re-republ-lic. It... it's swarm-ming with ou-... their s-soldiers. "

"I... just shut up. I'm leading us. Not you."

"W-who in Caesar's name made you in charge?" He still pronounced Caesar Kai-Zar. It pissed Fern off more than it probably should've. "I d-don't see any f-feathers on yo-your head."

"The fuck are you talking about?"

"You ar-aren't a Decanus. So you aren-en't in charge."

"I ain't legion and you ain't either. You're an outlaw now, kid."

"I-i'd still respect L-Legion mo-ore than y-you, outla-law or not..." the young man muttered. Fern chose to ignore the comment. She found he was like this despite his recently gained status as an outlaw. It pissed her off to no end. She was starting to regret her little "that's what my friends usually call me" comment. Well, at least she was almost ready to meet up with Josh. That would fix her mood right up, and let her stock up again.

She didn't say anything to Collin for the rest of the walk to Gran Abismo.

It didn't take a whole lot longer to get to the small town overlooking the huge canyon, sitting atop its red walls. Unlike Flagstaff, it had no walls nor any check. Most towns in the Legion had a check in, but this one was too small to be worth spending that many resources on. Besides, most people went to the bigger towns upriver, not to a town as small as this. It was the best place for Josh to set up shop, and the best place for her and Collin to rest. The two walked into the town through an assortment of scrap wood shacks and run down houses used since before the war. The old town was plenty run down, but not a slum of any kind. Far from the New Reno streets Fern was used to. It was more homely than that. Cozy, despite how run down it was.

"Finally..." Fern muttered. "Alright, kid. Let's get some rest for the night. It'll be nice to sleep in an actual bed again."

"Y-yeah, it w-would be. I'm g-gonna go ge-et a drink fir-first."

"Alright, I'll meet you at the bar in a little bit. I gotta... meet up with someone. Sorta... an old friend of mine. I'll be back in just a few."

"T-the bar? L-like alch-alchohol? I-I'm not allo-allowed to drink th-that. The Leg-" before he stopped himself, remembering that he wasn't in the Legion anymore.

Fucking finally, Fern thought. She'd been getting pretty pissed off at all his Legion talk. Was better for him to remember he wasn't part of it for once.

"You ain't Legion anymore, kid. Go get yourself a drink. Just go easy on it, kid. Here." she handed him a handful of caps. "Have fun, I'll be there in just a minute." she said before walking off to meet up with Josh.

Collin sat at the bar, still alone. It'd been maybe an hour and he had barely touched his drink. He just ordered a beer. It tasted like piss. He had been questioning why Fern liked the stuff so much. Speaking of Fern, his companion still wasn't there. It'd been an hour and she was nowhere to be found. Collin was starting to get a bit worried. Well. more than a bit worried. Despite his disdain for her profligate nature, he still didn't want anything to happen to her.

Collin stood up and decided to go looking for her. She couldn't have gone far, it wasn't too big of a town. He slid the bartender a tip and then walked out, leaving his drink behind. He walked around town for a while, occasionally stopping to ask a late night passerby if they've seen anyone matching her description. After not too long, he found some shopkeep who told him he saw her go down an alley behind the local scav trading post an hour ago. Collin walked down the alley towards the place he was told to seek Fern. He walked through, and saw an old ghoul in a dirty white button up and rattan cowboy hat walk past him through the alley. The ghoul gave him a bit of a weird look, but kept on going.. He turned a corner behind the trading post, to find Fern slumped up against it with an empty canister of jet in her hand. She was out cold.

"M-mars almighty, are y-you ok?" he said as he leaned down to check on her. She started to sit before her eyes barely opened and looked up at him.

"Ugh... my head. Where the fuck am I...?"

"Y-you've been our ov-over an hour. Are y-you ok?"

"Yeah, yeah. Not my first bad trip. I'll be fi..." she trailed off as she looked behind him. Collin felt cold metal press to the back of his head.

A raspy voice said "Don't you move an inch if you wanna live. The bounty on your head is bigger alive than it is if you're dead."

Fern looked up behind Collin to the man holding the gun, not with fear or worry, but amazement.

"Frank?"