Chapter 2

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The scenery changed as the group from New Vegas trudged through the wastes. It was two days since the battle at New Carson and the recruitment of the Mafia and the Yakuza.

"Water, what I wouldn't do for a glass of water." Shank croaked through dry lips.

"Irradiated or Clean?" Arcade teased.

"I don't give a fuck, I just want something to wet my pallet." Shank retorted.

Henry threw a canteen back to him. "Have the last of mine."

Shank caught the canteen and looked at it with mixed emotions. "You sure? You need to drink too."

"I'll be fine. I used to live off the land on my way to New Vegas." Henry called back.

Lizzy rushed up to him. "When did you become so generous? I remember when we were in the Vault Jackson Fairview and you got into a fight over a copy of Grognak the Barbarian."

"Having to make a big decision like becoming president changes you." Henry replied. "Besides, it was a limited edition copy."

They all laughed and kept walking. A few minutes later however, they came across a grizzly sight. Three or four corpses were burnt to a crisp. They were purposefully positioned in a circle. Random and charred weapons scattered the dirt around the bodies.

"Dear god, who did this?" Henry said, pulling his handgun out of his holster.

"This was recent, " Arcade stated. "The smell of burnt flesh is still here, Smell it?"

"Yeah." Boone said.

"Just like the massacre at Nipton, eh boss?" Shank followed.

"Henry, do you think the fire walkers did this?" Lizzy asked.

"Their first on the list, but we also have Legion in the area. I wouldn't be surprised if they did this." Henry replied. They walked slowly through the area, holding back the urge to gag. When they were a good ten feet away and near a random footlocker, Henry held up his hand.

"Hold up." he ordered. He crouched down and ran his finger across a thin wire. "Trap, stand back..."

Everyone took a step back as Henry took a step back. There was a whirring sound, then BEEP BEEP BEEP!

"Shit! Grenade!" Shank yelled. Henry turned to run but he was not fast enough. The grenade exploded, throwing everyone back like ragdolls. Henry flew through the air, feeling his right arm charred and burned. His vision went black.

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With his head still ringing, Henry slowly opened his eyes. He wasn't in the plains anymore. Instead he was in a small hut that was made out of car parts and wood. He sat up, grabbing his arm, which was now put in a neat plaster cast.

"You sleep well my friend?" Asked a voice from the darkness. Henry turned and saw a figure standing in the shadows, hiding his face.

"Yeah, probably have a minor concussion from that blast though. Where is everyone else?" Henry asked.

"They will be fine." said the figure.  "The firewalkers are treating them as we speak. You are lucky you didn't use Legion disguises, Rameriz, or they would've burnt you to a crisp."

"Thank yo- hey wait, how do you know my name?" Henry asked, not hiding the surprise in his tone. The figure stepped into the light. He wore a tan shirt with a black vest over it. His jeans were torn and ragged and his boots were caked in mud. The feature that revealed the identity of the man was not his face, but what was covering it. Every part of exposed skin was covered in white bandages, the only part that was not was a slot covering his eyes.

"Joshua Graham?" Henry asked.

Joshua nodded, the bandages around his mouth moved to show that he smiled. "Yes, my friend. It is me. I also have the Dead Horses with me. "

Henry got off the cot and shook his friends hand. "How have you been?" he asked.

"Good, very good. The Dead Horses have thrived ever since you help us at Zion."

"Well that’s good." Henry said. "Why are you and your tribe here anyways?"

"We are. . .well I am going to offer a pact with the firewalkers." Joshua explained. "We heard about the Legion's treaty with the Enclave. It wasn't long before we decided that war was inevitable. We have been making treaties with many tribes ever since we decided to take the call of war."

They walked outside to a area filled with huts, tents, and small buildings. The center of the town had a roaring bonfire in a giant pit. Men and women wore tribal gear and each of them had tattoos of fire on them.

"Welcome to the home of the firewalkers, my friend, and another valuable ally to the New Vegas Army." Joshua said.

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