Aftermath

Chapter Three: A Fool's Fortune

Konrad had fallen asleep at some point in the drive. It was a fitful nap, and he awoke with a start, feeling more drained than when he had gone to sleep.
He groaned, a splitting headache skewering his thoughts. He rubbed his fingers together, feeling the grime there coating his skin. He gave a disgusted sneer as he dug at some blood and dirt underneath his nails. When had that gotten there...
Xavias looked over at Konrad, the truck they were in cruising to a stop in front of a gate. "You alright, boy?" He asked, his words full of worry, but his eyes made of steely, compassionless pools.
Konrad was acutely aware of how shaky his hands were just then. He clenched his fingers together tightly in a fist. "Yeah... yeah doing fine."
Xavias squinted at his companion. "Well you don't fucking look fine. Maybe a shower would do some good for your sorry state."
Finally, someone understands, Konrad thought, his mind drifting again to the cozy release of a shower...

Vegas hadn't always had the defenses it did now. It used to be a factionless bastion, an anchor in the sea. But now the Coalition had Vegas wrapped around their greedy fingers.
Five years ago, Vegas was starting to run into some trouble. They had attracted the attention of a particularly nasty clan of brigands known as the Crimson Rotters. It quickly became apparent that Vegas' small militia group wasn't going to stand a chance against the Rotters. So they did the only thing one does when faced with extinction.
They begged for help.
The United Western Coalition answered their cries. They offered protection to Vegas, but only under the condition that they joined their alliance. This was something they had been trying to do for months now, and finally it looked like Neo-Vegas was going to give in. Vegas, backed into a corner and seeing no other options available, reluctantly agreed to those terms. With the Coalition's might, they won a decisive victory over the Crimson Rotter's surprisingly powerful army.
The end of the Crimson Invasion was nearly three years ago, and Vegas had been a key city in many battles. The lasting damage and effects that the Invasion had on Vegas could still be seen here and there, but the people of Neo-Vegas had worked hard to restore their beloved city.
It was something not easily done with the Coalition breathing down your neck, demanding compensation for winning Vegas' fights for them.

Konrad started, realizing he had been dozing off again. They were inside the walls of Neo-Vegas now.
Konrad had no idea what to make of the place. Pieced together houses towered over narrow, dark streets. Some of the only illumination in the cramped alleyways were neon signs that flashed and danced. Konrad would have been dazzled if he wasn't already shocked by the fact that Vegas had citywide electricity. Maybe cozying up to the Coalition had its perks...
"Alright, Konrad. This is your first time in a western city. Things will happen here that you might never get to see out on the Coasts."
Xavias' words helped Konrad regain his composure and get back in focus. He nodded slowly, but then gave a curious look at Xavias, asking him to elaborate.
Xavias sighed. "I'll put it simply for you: People out east are dangerous because they're sharp, smart, rugged. They're survivors. People out west are dangerous because they are just fucking crazy."
Konrad smirked at that, though Xavias hadn't phrased it in a joking way, which was cause for some concern.

As the truck crept carefully down the dark streets, there was scarcely a soul to be seen. The ones that could be seen were but ghastly spectres of the night, shrouded in the blue midnight shade within deep, ominous alleyways. Their faces pale in the moonlight, flat and hollow. Emotionless. Void.
Konrad cleared his suddenly dry throat.
"Xavias, I get that not a lot of people look like good guys these days, but these people look especially..."
Konrad didn't finish his sentence. Xavias got the point regardless.
"These alleys are where most of the nasty shitters bum out," Xavias then gestured with a sweeping hand around the more open street areas at the end of the alley. "And that is where the rest of the more docile shitters can be found."
"Then why aren't we going towards the nice guys?"
"Don't want to attract too much attention," Xavias said gruffly, in his own special way that also conveyed the message of shut up now.
Konrad felt a tiny twinge of irritation at being brushed off, but just shrugged and slumped in his seat.
After a minute or two more of driving in silence, Xavias spoke again, softly, "We're going to drop off the cars in a safe place I have arranged. Then, on foot, you will go..."
Xavias trailed off, and Konrad glanced over at him, straightening up. "Go where?"
Xavias shushed him, eyes glued to what was ahead of him.
Konrad glared at the darkness, squinting into its depths.
Four ghoulish figures were silhouetted against the dim sky, standing atop a slight incline, bearing down on the truck and the small troop following it. Neon lights glinted off aluminum bats and lead pipes, sporadically dazzling with violent greens and purples.
Konrad gulped and reached with his good hand for the cougher at his side, setting it in his lap. Xavias kept his eyes trained on the road.
There were a few quick moments, small droplets of bottled tension, that followed. But just as quickly, the alley ghosts parted at the last second, allowing the truck to pass through without trouble.
Konrad let out a breath of relief he didn't realize he had been holding. He continued to watch the four goons through the mirror as they rolled away.