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He didn’t owe the NCR shit.
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It was a decent plan and maybe the only shot he had of getting that dipshit little Vaultie out that Legion camp alive.
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Them rangers were dead anyway. Hell, they were fucking ghosts. The pathetic end of yet another attempt to put Humpty-Dumpty back together again.
It was never going to happen.
The world was broken and it was gonna stay broke.
And they deserved to die for their failure.
They’d be better off dead.
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Dogmeat yawned next to him as he crouched on the hillside overlooking the dueling Legion encampments. She didn’t have any opinions to offer on his plan.
But someone did.
“You know there’s another way.”
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Cooper grunted and ignored him. Maybe there was, maybe there wasn’t. Why take the fucking risk?
“Brother, you damn well know why.”
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“It’s better this way. More of the Tunic pricks leave the camp and head in the opposite direction we’re going. Less chance of any of them of getting the idea to put me on a cross and her in a rape wagon.”
A mighty and familiar sigh to his right. He doesn’t look. Cooper just scratches Dogmeat behind her ears with his left hand. She pants happily at the attention; she doesn’t care about his ghosts.
“Coop, I know you saw the damn barrels of dynamite. The shit is just laying out unsecured.”
That provoked a rough bark of laughter out of the ghoul. Dogmeat cocked her head at her human (he smelled like a dead one but gave her pats so gave him human status) as he did.
“Old Sarge Teller would have a rage-stroke at all that ordnance out and about, wouldn’t he? Explosives and shells right next to cooking fires and fuel depots. Asking for an inferno. And these shitbirds pretend to be real warriors.”
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“The plan is already behind your eyes man. What’s the holdup? Your squad needs you.”
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That flick of his wrist had an angry flourish to it. Squad? Whose fucking squad? And who was he talking about? Those pathetic holdouts in the hills or her?
“All of them. Coop, you ain’t the kinda of man to leave any of them behind.”
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“Ain’t a man at all anymore. Thought that would be perfectly obvious by this point.”
An angry and dismissive snort sounded in his ear. Right next to it? Far away? He would not look either way.
“Spare me the self-pitying bullshit. Didn’t work back in the day and it doesn’t work now. The offended movie star routine never landed with me and neither does the Ghoul show. I’m not talking to them. I’m talking to my friend and brother. The man who protects the people he loves.”
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God he was tired. His shoulders sagged. Not under the weight of his bandolier, weapons or saddlebag. Time was heavier than all that put together. It was the weight of a lifespan that no man was ever meant to live. That consuming despair crept up on him sometimes and no amount of chems could keep it away. His voice rasped, older than even how he looked and devoid of the stage accent he used around other people.
“I was never any good at that, was I? Protecting people. How many of our friends died in Alaska? And I couldn’t save you either.”
“You tried.”
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“Couldn’t save the world.”
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“You tried.”
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“Couldn’t save my family.”
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“You’re still trying.”
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“Now….what? I gotta save those rangers and Miss Lucy?”
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“That’s the mission.”
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The old, old man thought of the young woman. His bait, his ace in the hole, his ‘partner’ in this little death ride. He thought of the non-stop jabbering and yapping. He thought of the stern school teacher lectures from a jumpsuit wearing tenderfoot. He thought of big earnest eyes and trust so quickly and unwisely given. He thought of a light so bright it made him furious and cruel.
He thought of the goddamned motherfucking Golden Rule and sighed.
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“Less than a day apart and she’s strung up in a Legion camp. I ain’t gonna get her to Vegas in one piece.”
“She’s tougher than she looks. She’ll surprise you.”
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Well…...either way he played it, it was time to play. Couldn’t sit up here forever talking to a dead man. Cooper tensed when a hand (Wasn’t really there….was it?) patted his shoulder.
“On your feet marine. They aren’t paying us by the hour. Go save yourself.”
His burned and scarred lips curled slightly at that. He wouldn’t look at him, it hurt too much to look. And what the hell did he mean by yourself? He was saving that damn Lucy today. Bah, he didn’t want to talk anymore.
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With a final snap, Cooper put the USMC lighter back in his coat pocket and stood from his crouch. Dogmeat hopped up excitedly as well; unaware she’d be given a stern ‘stay’ in a moment. He started down the hill without looking back.
“Coop!”
He promised himself he wouldn’t but that was just another promise he couldn’t keep. Cooper stopped and turned to look back at his best friend.
Charlie Whiteknife was standing here in his dress uniform; looking just like he did that day in the VFW Hall. He had a big smile on his handsome face and his arms crossed over his chest. Cooper suddenly missed him and the world that was so much he wanted to weep. But he didn’t have any tear ducts no more so he just shook his head instead.
“What now Charlie?”
“You’re right about the other thing too.”
“The hell are you yammering about?”
The best man he ever knew inclined his head to the camp below.
“I would have liked her. She’s a real pistol that one. She’s gonna keep you on your toes and be good for you. Coop……there can be an after and it’s ok to want one.”
Cooper rolled his eyes at the apparition. They sure as fuck weren’t talking about that.
There was no that to talk about either. He spat and turned back to the path down the hill.
“I’ll see ya down the road Charlie.”
But there was no one there. Never had been. He was just a senior citizen talking to himself.
Cooper Howard headed to the camp filled with murderers, rapists and cosplaying lunatics to save Lucy MacLean.
And maybe to do something stupid.
Or maybe something right.
He wasn’t sure yet.
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