Goodsprings
Mara was wiping down the bar when the NCR soldiers came in. Three of them, dusty from the road and wearing the tired expressions of people who'd expected a simple job and found something else waiting.
They ordered drinks and took a table. Mara set the glasses down, then went back to the counter. She wasn't trying to listen. It was just hard not to hear them.
"We got there quickly enough," one soldier said. "Outpost to the prison, no trouble on the road."
"Getting inside was another story," said the second. "We spent half the morning looking for a way through."
Mara paused with a rag in her hand.
"Those walls weren't there before," the first soldier continued. "The rocks around the facility—boulders, some of them—were all gone. Moved into place. New walls, new buildings. Whoever did it turned the whole prison into a fortress."
"And the prisoners?"
"Powder Gangers. In cells, tied up in the yard. All accounted for, far as we can tell."
One of the men gave a low whistle. "You'd think the NCR would've thought of using the place as a prison."
"Maybe we'll get around to it now."
Mara carried an empty glass to the counter. The soldiers had lowered their voices, but she caught scraps as she moved nearby: paperwork, headcounts, questions about who'd been left in charge. Then someone mentioned the grass.
"Near Primm," the soldier said. "It's growing along the road. Nobody can figure out where it came from."
"I heard a scientist wants samples."
"Wants them?" The speaker snorted. "You should've heard him. He sounded like he'd been awake for three days. Kept asking if we knew who planted it, where it started, how fast it was spreading."
"Maybe he's excited."
"Maybe he's unhinged."
The others laughed. Mara went on with her work.
When they finished their drinks, the soldiers paid and headed outside. They were her last customers. Trudy had already started closing up, so Mara grabbed her coat and stepped out after them.
NCR vehicles lined the road, dusty and sun-faded. She walked past them toward home, thinking about Isaac.
He'd come into town wearing that dark outfit and gas mask. When the Powder Gangers had wrecked the saloon, he'd beaten them down and dragged them out. Mara remembered the scrape of their boots against the dirt. She remembered how calm he'd seemed while everyone else stared.
Then there was the motorcycle. It had been a heap of parts when he started working on it. A couple of days later, he'd rolled it out and ridden away.
Now NCR soldiers were trying to understand what he'd done to the prison.
Mara wondered where he'd gone. Then she shrugged and kept walking home. Whatever he was up to, it wasn't her problem tonight.
Mojave Outpost
Ghost had watched the rider disappear into the dust beyond the outpost.
She could still picture it: a dark figure on horseback, the strange machine floating alongside, both shrinking into the heat haze. She'd watched from a distance, unsure whether the figure was heading for the ant nest or just passing nearby.
Then the nest exploded.
Now she sat in the outpost bar beside Cassidy and her caravan crew, with an empty glass in front of her and another already halfway gone. Cass was drinking slowly. Ghost had been drinking enough for both of them.
The caravaners had run out of patience before Ghost had run out of whiskey.
"Why the fuck are they keeping us here?" one of them said. "The ant nest is gone. The scorpions trying to set up nearby are gone too. And that thing rode off on something that looked like what the Grim Reaper rides. If we want to leave, we should be able to. It's our choice!"
He's got a point, Ghost thought.
Cassidy folded her arms. "I've already told the sergeant we're ready to go. He said the road needs to be checked first."
"Checked for what? The ants are dead."
"Whatever else might be out there."
The caravaner leaned back, throwing his hands up. "So we're stuck here because some monster did us a favor?"
Ghost took a long drink. She didn't know whether the figure had done them a favor. She only knew what she'd seen: a rider heading toward the nest, and an explosion afterward.
Cassidy turned toward her. "What do you think?"
Ghost opened her mouth. "I can't talk about—"
She stopped herself. She was tired of swallowing the story every time someone asked what had happened.
"Actually, fuck it." She lifted her glass and drained it. "Buy me another whisky and I'll tell you what I know."
The bartender started to protest. "Ghost, you've had—"
"Not now." Ghost pushed the empty glass toward him. "Another one."
Cassidy paid. The bartender muttered something under his breath, then poured.
Ghost took the fresh drink and stared into it. "I saw the rider go toward the ant nest. Couldn't see what happened once they got close. Then the nest went up. Afterward, the rider headed toward Nipton."
"How do you know they went to Nipton?" someone asked.
"I watched them ride off in that direction."
Cassidy's eyes narrowed. "Did you follow?"
"No. We sent people to check on Nipton that evening. The town was still standing. They found a bunch of Powder Gangers nursing injuries, so they took them back into custody."
"Did the Powder Gangers say what happened?"
"They said the rider passed through town, but didn't stay."
"And then?"
"The patrol followed the direction they'd gone. They found a Legion safehouse outside Nipton."
The caravan crew quieted.
"There were bones out front," Ghost continued. "Dead Legionnaires inside. The patrol had to break through concrete pillars blocking a hallway downstairs."
One of the caravaners shook his head. "You're telling me some masked rider blew up an ant nest, passed through Nipton, and took on a Legion safehouse?"
"I'm telling you what the patrol found."
A man at the end of the table scoffed. "Sounds like a story somebody made up to keep the road closed."
Ghost watched Cassidy. Cass didn't laugh. She just studied Ghost's face, as if weighing what she'd heard.
"Do you believe her?" one of the others asked.
Cassidy didn't answer. She kept her eyes on Ghost.
Ghost tried to take another drink. Her hand missed the glass. The room shifted sideways, and her chair tipped before she could catch herself.
She hit the floor hard enough to knock the air out of her.
Cassidy called her name. The bartender swore. Someone laughed, then stopped when Cass glared at them.
Ghost heard it all from very far away.
Then she passed out.
Cottonwood Cove
The guard hated shipments. They meant waiting in the sun while officers argued over numbers, then standing watch while the captives were moved from one place to another.
This latest group was mostly young women. Some kept their heads down. Others stared at the Legionnaires with the flat, exhausted look of people who'd already learned that begging changed nothing.
The guard watched them pass and felt his jaw tighten. He was expected to stand there while the buyers chose who to take for testing. He'd heard the men talk about the privileges they got. He never got any.
A senior officer crossed the yard with another Legionnaire. Their voices carried.
"Still no word from the safehouse?"
"None. We sent a runner. He found the place abandoned."
"Abandoned?"
"Not empty. The men inside are dead. Some were pinned to the walls with concrete."
The guard glanced over, then quickly looked away. He knew better than to stare at officers.
"And Searchlight?" the first officer asked.
"The NCR found out about the operation. They recovered the hazmat suits and disposed of the waste before it could be used."
The officer cursed under his breath. "The safehouse and the sabotage plan. Both lost."
The guard returned his gaze to the road. He had no interest in learning what would happen next. He only hoped no one decided the failures were his fault.
The buyers started toward the overlook with several captives. His mind went back to one of the women, she was pregnant. The guard had noticed her earlier, one hand resting over her stomach as she was led through the yard.
He wondered if he could find a chance to head back and find her. He'd already imagined what he might do if he got the chance. The thought made him smile.
A shout from the gate wiped the expression away.
"Eyes forward," another guard snapped.
He set his spear against his shoulder, adjusted the pistol at his waist, and faced the road again. The captives and buyers disappeared from view. The guard stayed at his post, waiting for his shift to end.
[Interlude 1 End]
A/N: Yeah, I used the AI to write this one, I corrected and rewrote most of it, but I might have missed something. I know it'll be weird to read but I don't know if it's bad.
I'm also using this as an excuse to have some more time to write everything you guys want.
And if you've read this far and are still reading, then I hope you have an incredible rest of your day/night.