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The wind blew across the empty pasture, pushing dust into the air. The land was dry and dead, but that was normal for the wasteland. Through the howling wind, music could be heard coming from a small ranch house in the middle of the pasture.

Inside, a man was sitting at a table listening to an old world jazz standard. He wore a pair of old jeans and a white t-shirt. His eyes were indicative of his age, young, but his long hair and unshaven face hid his youthful appearance. He looked like a man.

The man rolled a cigarette with some clippings from an old book, licked the seam to close it, and lit it with a lighter engraved with a rose. He sat there enjoying the music, listening to it pierce the wind outside. The music absorbed him. His eyes were closed and he cherished every note.

The home he occupied was small but not lacking. It had four rooms in total: a living room with a kitchenette on one side, two bedrooms, one a little bigger than the other, and a bathroom towards the back of the unit. It was meant for a family, but the man was alone.

The room the man was in was the smaller bedroom. A small bed was nested in the corner of the room and next to it sat an old dresser with a dusty piece of mirror fixed on top of it. He was sitting at a desk opposite of the bed. Next to the desk was a bookshelf filled with many volumes of old world literature, and the desk was covered in them as well. In the midst of all the trinkets and books that sat on top, a holotape player was playing a bittersweet song about love.

Suddenly, a loud voice pierced through the music and wind, "Rose! Hey! Rose!?"

The man looked up from his book, put his cigarette out, and got up from the desk. The Noise was coming from outside. He walked into the living room and peeked through the shutters. Outside was an older man in a long coat with a rifle slung across his back.

The man continued to call, "Rose? It's me! I know it's been awhile. Don't you recognize my voice?"

Inside the house, the man rushed to the corner of the room and pulled an old trench coat with the number '14' printed on the back and hastily put it on. He walked to the door and before opening it he grabbed the lever-action rifle leaning against the door jam.

"Who are you?" said the man from the porch.

He was holding the rifle with the barrel down but still at an angle where it was easy to quickly readjust if the man in the front yard tried something.

"My name is David. I'm looking for a woman named Rose. She lived here with her son. Do you know them?"

The man on the porch replied, "How do you know my mother?"

"Your mother? . . . You couldn't possibly be . . . Colby?"

"How do you know my name? Who are you and what do you want with my mom?"

"You don't recognize me? Well, you were pretty small back then." David's voice was filled with nostalgia.

"I knew John, your father. We served in the same ranger unit for the NCR. Our unit was nicknamed "The Bull's Demise," or at least that's what we liked to be called. Our real name was East Recon #14. Look, I have proof."

David raised his hands to his neck and pulled the chain around it off of his head. He slowly approached Colby who was still standing vigilantly on the porch. David handed the necklace to Colby to examine.

It was a pair of NCR dog tags. One contained all of David's service information. It read:

Name: David Carter
Unit: East Recon #14, Ranger
Rank: Veteran

The other tag had an engraving on one side and an inscription on the other. The engraving was a star surrounded by a circle of smaller stars with a feather hanging down. It reminded Colby of the dream catchers his mother used to make.

On the other side, the inscription read:

"Tauri Lex Talionis"

Colby recognize the words. Roughly translated, they meant something along the lines of "The Bull's Demise." It matched the inscription on the necklace he was wearing at that very moment. It belonged to his father.

David noticed the recognition in Colby's eyes. "See, I knew your Daddy and I know your ma as well. Can I please speak to her? It's important"

Colby looked up from the necklace and handed it back to David. He turned on the safety of his rifle and replied, "I think we better talk. Come on in."

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