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Haunted Pt 2

Hi everyone! Thanks so much for the fantastic reception on Part 1, it really made me want to write some more to this little story! Here's Part 2, I hope you enjoy it as much as the last one.

Summary: Reader remembers a party she was at, and the Ghoul causes trouble in a saloon.

“Are you enjoying the party?”

I looked over to my left to see Barb Howard approaching me. She was completely impeccable – her dark skin was glowing, and she had the best-looking hair in the room. Her dress was a beautiful peach colour, and she had a string of pearls around her neck that were probably worth more than all the alcohol spilling at the party. Beside her, I felt ever so slightly dull.

“Oh, me and Jackie are having such a good time,” I nodded towards the toilets, “he’s currently taking a bathroom break.”

I felt the need to accentuate my husband’s appearance next to Barb, and I breathed a sigh of relief when Jackie appeared from the toilet and smiled widely at us.

“Barb, this is a spectacular event. You lot at Vault-Tec certainly know how to throw a party!” he laughed, and I felt a wave of jealousy come over me as she laughed alongside him. Jackie was so good at this – talking to people he barely knew, making them feel like he really cared about them even if he didn’t give a whatsits. “Me and my wife here barely get a chance to go out together at the minute, this filming is taking awfully long.”

I noticed he winced as he said this, and Barb’s face fell ever so slightly. The one thing we’d both agreed not to mention tonight was the film because we knew I was already on Barb’s bad side after she’d seen The Man from Calabasas. I’d never taken her as a jealous type, but after the premier had finished, Barb had become immediately cold towards me. Her irritation at my presence got worse with Under the Covers, and this one we were currently shooting often had visits to set from Cooper’s wife, who apparently was under the impression I was screwing her husband.

Not even my marriage had convinced her otherwise and she’d been invited to the wedding.

“Well, you and I are both feeling the loneliness from our spouses’ schedules, although Cooper’s is most definitely busier.”

I sucked in a deep breath at her veiled insult, but Jackie just put his hand on the small of my back and pointed to the corner.

“Look, darling, there’s Charlie,” he smiled politely at Barb, and she forced one back at us. “my apologies, Mrs Howard, but I think we’re being waved over.”

We walked away from her, and Jackie let out an unhappy sigh.

“God, you’d think that you’d be flirting with that woman’s husband off-camera with the way she acts towards you.”

“I barely flirt with him on camera, darling.” I chuckled, and he took me in his arms, placed his hands on my waist and kissed me deeply.

“I love you, darling.” He said softly, and I smiled back, feeling myself getting lost in his gaze.

“I love you too, Jackie,” I replied, “I love you very much.”

***

“Earth to Little Miss Ryder, are you even fuckin’ listening to me?”

I turned to the Ghoul, who was waving a gloved hand in my face. I jumped slightly and sent him an uneasy nod. We were walking past the remains of what seemed to be a forest, with trees that were coming back stronger than they’d grown before. Walking along the treeline gave us a bit of shade from the burning sun, but the Ghoul had been shifty since we’d left the hut that morning, looking in every direction at once as if something was going to appear all at once out of nowhere.

“Yeah, sorry. Just got distracted thinking about someone. I mean, something.”

“Well, you better keep fuckin’ focused 'cause I think I can see what passed that hut last night.” He gestured in front of me, and I gasped as I saw what he meant.

Up in the distance, shuffling around aimlessly, was another ghoul.

“Has it seen us?” I whispered, but he shook his head.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” he hissed back, “but we’re gonna have to pass it at some point, and it’s definitely feral.”

In front of us, the feral ghoul began to turn towards us and suddenly I was being pulled behind a tree. He pulled out his gun and gestured for me to do the same.

“Hey, uh, I should probably have asked you this before, but what’s your name? I don’t want to go ‘hey ghoulie’ and have you both turn to look at me.”

“I don’t have one.”

“What do you mean you don’t have one?”

“I. Don’t. Have. One. Okay?”

“Everyone has a name!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, just call me Sherrif!” he spat out, before leaping out behind the tree and shooting the feral in the head.

“What kind of a fuckin’ name is Sherrif?” I almost laugh at the implications – this fucking Ghoul, who dressed like a cowboy with a secret love of Westerns wanted to be called Sherrif?

“It’s my fuckin’ name, Missy.”

“No, it ain’t.”

“Yes, it is.”

The feral currently on the floor began to move again, but Sherrif shot it again, still glaring at me.

“It’s a fucking stupid name – makes you sound like a dog.”

He lunged at me – grabbed onto my neck and shoved me against the tree we’d just been hiding behind.

“Maybe I just am a dog, Missy. I certainly seem to be followin’ you around like one.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m fuckin’ paying you for, Sherrif,” He let out an irritated huff, and let me go, adjusting his belt.

“Never meet your fuckin’ heroes,” he sighed and shook his head. I only let out another laugh and shrugged.

“I was never the hero, Sherrif. I was the always the damsel in distress, gettin’ tied up by some evildoer and Coop’s character would have to rescue me.”

“You were pretty fuckin’ fiesty for a damsel in distress.”

“Only ‘cause the old perverts that liked watching Coop’s pictures liked to see a woman’s titties jiggle as she fought off the evil outlaw.”

Walking away from the scene, the bounty hunter Ghoul became talkative in a way he hadn’t been before last night.

“What was it like actin’ alongside the infamous Cooper Howard?” I raised my eyebrows at him, but he only shrugged. “I’m just interested to know if he was a fuckin’ arsehole like actors usually are.”

“What do you know about actors, Sherrif?”

“Been around a long time, I suppose.”

“I can fuckin’ believe that one,” he shot me a dirty look, but I only grinned, “anyway, Coop was actually a pretty nice guy, for the most part. Though it is his fuckin’ fault I’m out here and not sittin’ pretty in a vault with my husband.”

“The vaults aren’t all they were cracked up to be,” the Sherrif grimaced, and adjusted his hat, “you’re probably better off out here.”

“You might be right, to be fair. But if I saw him walkin’ ‘round today, I’d sock him right on the mouth.”

“Haven’t you done that before anyway?” I roll my eyes at his attempt at a joke, but I can’t help but smile.

“We were acting.”

“Were you?”

“Of course I was!” I slap him on the arm, and he grins down at me. For a second, I’m not in the wasteland – I’m back on set with Cooper and Jackie or Greg and we’re just laughing about some dumb shit on the script. Then the wasteland appears before us again and I’m no longer home.

***

The next settlement we arrived at was substantial but quiet. The people there didn’t seem scared of us as we dragged ourselves to the watering hole, but there was a look in their eyes like you’d see in a prey animal. We handed over a few caps to the bartender in exchange for a drink and some directions to somewhere to kip for the night.

“Jus’ head over to Mister J’s place. It’s on the high street, opposite the junk shop. Can’t miss it.”

“Thank you kindly, sir,” I said, turning back to face the Sherrif. He was looking around us with a hint of suspicion on his face, and I handed him his drink. “what’s up, Sherrif? Does this saloon reek of outlaw or somethin’?”

The Sherrif grunted but nodded all the same.

“Somethin’ like that, little Missy. Somethin’ ain’t right here.”

We hadn’t been sitting in the bar long before that something walked right in, a rather substantial gun in his hand and a crazed look in his red-rimmed eyes. The bar went completely silent, and the ghoul next to me immediately put a hand on his own gun.

So far, apart from the trouble with raiders and fiends and all that shit, we hadn’t faced a huge threat. But between the haunted looks of the settlement inhabitants, and the coked-up-looking man standing next to the bar, I was sure this was going to be trouble. It reminded me of a scene from Under the Covers, where I’d played a sultry young woman hiding a dark secret opposite Cooper’s detective and he’d got into a bar fight over a mafiosa’s wandering hands.

I shook my head at the Sherrif, who seemed to be moments away from pulling out his gun and firing it at the coked-up crazy man before he decided to fire at anyone else. He frowned but shifted anyway and pulled his hat further over his face. The sudden intruder whispered something in the ear of the bartender, who had become very interested in the glass he’d been polishing. He put the glass down and poured the man a beer, before quickly going back to polishing his glasses.

From where we were sat, I had a pretty good view of the dude – his red eyes, thick beard, the bloodied fist clenched around his beer glass. I looked back over at the Sherrif, whose eyes were trained on the gun in the man’s other bloodied hand.

I made eye contact with the Sherrif and then looked over to the door. He seemed to get my meaning, and we were about to get up when the crazed man began to talk.

“You got the caps for this month, Jim?” he asked, and the barman cowered, before shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Sir, I haven’t been able to make the full amount since that shootout last month, I just need-”

“So you don’t have my fucking caps, is that what you’re saying?”

“No, Sir.”

At this point, I could see that the barman was shaking, and the other man was holding up his gun, not quite pointing it, but holding it up as if he were inspecting it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Sherrif shift in his seat, and his hand returned to the pistol.

“Well then, I guess I gotta give you a little more time then, eh? A little bit more time to make a few more caps, yeah?”

“Yes Sir, please. I only need a couple more days.” I was almost certain that the barman was close to shitting himself, and I was beginning to panic that we would be next.

I remembered men like these – men who would come into the brothel with their guns, pointing them at any whore who dared disobey.

I remembered shooting a few of them.

I watched, half in horror and half in dull apathy as the coked-up man raised his gun to the head of the barman, who had resorted to whimpering in fear. There was a click, as he pulled the trigger, but no gunshot ran out.

The barman let out a cry, but the other man just began to laugh.

“You got til’ tomorrow. If I don’t get my caps, I’ll shoot you in the fucking head for real.”

The barman whimpered a thank you and then seemed to crumple to his knees in relief, disappearing from view.

I let out a sigh of relief of my own, and I saw the Sherrif remove his hand from his holster. I relaxed my shoulders and leaned back into my chair and I saw my companion relax a little himself.

“Now, what have we got here?”

Shit. I took a quick look over to the Sherrif, who was currently in a staring contest with the apparent landlord of the saloon.

“Me and my companion here are just a couple wanderers, enjoying a quick drink,” I hastily begin, “We won’t be sticking around long.”

“You know, you don’t see many ghouls around these parts.” The Sherrif remained silent, so I attempted to step in again.

“We’ll be on our way very soon,” I said, “We’re not sticking around, like I said.” I looked over to the Sherrif as I did so, who raised his glass to the Landlord and downed the rest of his drink.

“You look very familiar, young lady,” the Landlord began, “Have we met before?”

I shook my head and forced out a smile.

“We’re nobodies, Sir. Just your average wastelanders.”

He looked us over, for a moment, before standing aside.

“Off you go then, average wastelanders.” He had a sneer painted across his scarred, hairy face that I didn’t like but at least he was letting us go.

We got to the door of the saloon and were about to walk out and find wherever Mr J’s was when the Landlord’s voice called out to us once again.

“I know where I remember you, Little Missy,” my breath caught in the back of my throat and I clenched my jaw. “You work at that brothel near Scrapheap, right? You were a slave there.”

“I earned my freedom,” I bit out, “I don’t work there anymore.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just knock you out and sell you back to it? I’m sure they’re missing their best worker.” He leered at me and I felt myself shiver. His eyes felt like they were piercing right through my bones. I opened my mouth to speak again, but I was interrupted before I could make a sound.

“You try anythin’ and I’ll shoot a bullet through your thick fuckin’ skull, alright?” Beside me, the Sherrif grinned and pointed his gun at the man in front of us. “I’d say that’s one good fuckin’ reason.”

The Landlord let out a loud, unhinged laugh. A few people around us began to laugh as well, and then the Ghoul standing next to me began to laugh as well.

He shot at the Landlord, and all hell broke loose.

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