Nevada: High Roller (Fallout New Vegas)

Chapter 4: Law, Order and A Gunslinger

[Author's Note: Please remember to click 'Vote' on the chapters as it really helps me out! I hope you guys enjoy the chapter! <3]

Walking the long and lonely stretch of road southward to Primm hadn't taken quite as long as I thought it would, despite having taken the journey countless times before and, usually, I kept a mental note of the duration of the journey. 

               About an hour and a half, or thereabouts, bringing me up to the pillar-lined patch of road that led into the town just as the sweltering afternoon heat began to die down. 

A nice day for travelling, though. 

It wouldn't get dark for a good long while yet, which I was counting on. I'd prefer to get as far as I could before I found somewhere to settle down for the night. Where, exactly, I still wasn't sure. Likely, it'd just end up being the closest town or gas-stop I found myself passing.

"Yippee-yeah, there'll be no weddin' bells for today, 'cause I got spurs that jingle, jangle, jingle-" 

I had started singing along real quietly, matching the pace with the rhythmic ringing of my spurred boots on the concrete, and caught myself with a deep frustrated sigh. 

"Balls, not again..."

Sure, I could carry a tune, but that one got stuck in my head more than that bullet I'd caught back in Goodsprings ever did. Plus, I didn't want my rep to take a hit if I strolled on into Primm like some kind of singing loser. 

               I was only a singing loser when Virginia asked me to be one, and even then, I'd refuse if anybody else, besides her, was hanging about. 

Taking on jobs over long distances meant I spent an awful lot of time with only my thoughts as company. Things like that made me wonder whether I should have taken up Doc Mitchell's offer of taking his Pip-Boy, but when I had radio songs get stuck in my head regardless, it wouldn't have changed a damn thing. I was gonna tick myself off either way, but at least I was doing it with a lighter arm. 

Efficiency, at its finest.

As I strayed to the right-hand side of the road, leading to a cut-off from the main stretch that led straight through the town via an underpass, I couldn't help but notice how quiet the whole place seemed. 

Not like the place was ever truly buzzing with life in the town center, but there were usually people milling about. People coming in and out of the Vikki and Vance casino, having lost a decent amount of caps, or travelers chatting it up outside of the Bison Steve Hotel.

               But, on that day, there seemed to be nobody around. 

Real fuckin' weird.

Sheriff McBain and that good-for-nothing Deputy Beagle usually patrolled the streets in the afternoon. McBain had tolerated me on account of the way I was a better drinking buddy than Beagle, but Beagle and I never saw eye-to-eye. Just the way it was -- the way it always had been. McBain and his wife were good people, though.