Let's Ride Into the Sunset

Chapter 1 | The Third Rail

"Jesse, you don't have much time. You've got to go!"

Jesse jolted awake, gasping. Frantically, he lunged for the 9mm he had hidden under his pillow and grasped it to his chest, whipping his head around to search the room. There was no one there. Exhaling, he flicked the safety of his gun back on. There was never anyone there. Jesse rubbed his temples and brought his pip-boy up to his face, groaning when he saw the time. 4:48 am.

"Great," Jesse grumbled to himself, slipping his gun back in its holster on his hip. "Early morning again." Jesse pulled his old NCR 1st recon beret over his dark hair and rubbed his face, exhausted. He hadn't gotten a good nights sleep in what felt like years, and the thin walls of the Hotel Rexford didn't exactly help. He'd be surprised if the folks in the neighboring room weren't dead from all the jet they took last night.

Grabbing his pack, Jesse glanced around to make sure he'd remembered everything and set off down the hallway of the old, decrepit hotel. Waving to Clair -the front desk attendant- Jesse sighed and stepped out to the busy streets of Goodneighbor.

-

"Hired protection?" the ghoul shop-keep stared at Jesse like he'd grown another head, which was entirely possible, considering he hadn't taken any rad-away recently. "The closest thing we have to that is the triggermen, but they'll more likely kill you than anything else."

"Well," Jesse began, reaching into his pack and pulling out roughly 50 caps and placing them on the counter, "tell me if you remember anyone else." The ghoul's eyes widened in surprise at the hefty sum of money. Slipping it into her pocket, she grinned.

"How could I forget MacCready? He's the best shot around; been shooting since he was a boy. I heard he's looking for work, so he'll probably accept an offer if you give it to him," she smirked, resting her head on her shoulder, "but it'll cost you. That kind of shooting doesn't come cheap. You'll find him in his office in the only bar around here, the Third Rail."

Jesse nodded thanks to the clerk and started off across the street towards the bar. Just before reaching the door, he bumped into a drifter donned in a ratty flannel and sunglasses. "Sorry about that," Jesse muttered, reaching for the entrance to the bar.

The drifter smiled and hit Jesse's shoulder playfully. "Don't worry about it, pal," he said, proceeding to wander away towards Goodneighbor's exit.

Jesse frowned at him and walked into the Third Rail. "This place is full of weirdos," he mumbled, shaking his head. As he stepped through the threshold, a ghoul clad in a worn but clean tuxedo nodded in greeting and gestured down a long set of stairs. Jesse waved and headed down the stairs, towards faint music and laughter.

-

"We told you once, MacCready." The two men towered over MacCready, taller than him by a good 3 or 4 inches. "We told you to beat it. You're operating on Gunner territory, and you know damn well what that means." The man speaking cracked his knuckles while his partner flipped the safety off on his energy rifle, finger on the trigger. MacCready scoffed and gestured towards the gun.

"Are you guys trying to scare me? Hancock will be pissed if you all try to kill me while we're in Goodneighbor. Winlock, wrangle your wife in here, or he's going to start something you can't win." MacCready smirked at the man with the gun, Barnes, who was spluttering angrily at him.

"Come on Winlock, tell me we don't have to listen to this shit," Barnes snarled, his index finger tightening over the trigger. Winlock stared at MacCready, seething.

"You know what? We don't." Winlock reached into his back pocket, pulled out a large, serrated knife and took a step towards MacCready. MacCready's cocky expression wavered as he involuntarily took a step back. "To be honest," Winlock growled, advancing towards MacCready. "I don't give a shit what Hancock thinks. Or the rest of this shit town for that matter." He leisurely tossed the knife back and forth between his hands, not breaking eye contact with MacCready, the colored lighting of the office washing his face in blood red. "All I care about is getting rid of liabilities." Winlock stopped only a few inches from MacCready, who was pressed against the back wall of the office, hands balled into fists. "and you, MacCready, are a liability." Winlock raised his knife, and MacCready braced himself to bolt just before the swing, when suddenly-

"Is this a bad time?" Jesse sauntered through the door, seemingly relaxed, but with a firm grip on his holstered 9mm. Winlock dropped his arm and turned to see the man leaned against the wall, smiling at the trio, soft pre-war music warbling from his pip-boy on his arm. Winlock directed his attention back to MacCready, who was now looking irritated at the situation and the calm demeanor of the man who'd just involuntarily saved his life.

Winlock sneered. "This. Isn't. Over. C'mon Barnes." Turning on his heel, he kicked over a trashcan and stalked off towards the exit, shoving his knife back into his pocket. Jesse, turning away from the retreating duo, waved a greeting to MacCready and walked over.

MacCready sighed, irritated. "Look, pal. If you're preaching about the Atom or looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy." He pointed behind him, towards his rifle resting against the wall. "If you need a hired gun... then maybe we can talk." Stunned for only a moment, Jesse laughed easily, taking his hand off his holster to rest in his pants pocket.

"Good to hear. Sounds like you can handle yourself, but... any possibilities those guys would throw a wrench in the works?" Jesse made an over-exaggeratedly concerned face and blinked rapidly. MacCready snickered.

"If you're worried about Winlock and Barnes, don't be. They couldn't kill a squirrel with a rocket launcher," he said, grinning. "Now, what about you, mystery man? How do I know I won't end up with a bullet in my back?" Jesse dropped the fake expression and looked thoughtful for a moment.

"The name's Jesse. And all I can give you is my word... and a bunch of caps," Jesse shrugged. MacCready chuckled, nodding at the statement.

"Bunch of caps, huh? Okay, hotshot. Price is 250 caps... up front," MacCready's face shifted to a more serious expression, "And there's no room for bargaining." Jesse glanced down at his pip-boy, taking in the modest amount of caps. He'd have just enough, with a few to spare.

Jesse took his hand out of his pocket and reached into his pack, producing a slip of paper and a pencil. "Here are the rules of the contract," he began, writing. "You and I split the caps we find equally, exempting the ones used hiring you. Same goes for stimpacks, so if you agree, I'll give you some on the road." Jesse gave a half smile. "You don't have to talk, but chatting is always welcome and appreciated." MacCready nodded.

"Sound fair enough to me. Hell, beats most of the deals I get cut," MacCready held out a hand for Jesse to shake, "So I'm in if you are." Jesse took his hand and shook it firmly, before placing a bag of caps in his open palm.

Jesse grinned. "You've got yourself a deal." MacCready slipped the bag of caps into his pocket and grabbed his rifle, shouldering it and smirking.

"All right, boss... you got yourself an extra gun. Lead on."