It seems there are good folk in the wasteland.
Head hurts on account of being shot. That courier job turned out to be more dangerous than anyone would have suspected. The platinum chip that I was carrying attracted the attention of a man in a suit and the great Khans. I have read about the great Khans. They use to be from the West, till the Tribal chased them off, or legend has it. I don’t suppose I’m in full possession of my faculties, but I suspect I will run into them sooner or later. Still, they were never my primary purpose in the wasteland. I’m here to chronicle the societies that exist here. I can still do that.
A lot of that is thanks to the Goodsprings. It’s a small town on the Western edge of the wasteland, population of no more than 30 people or so. It’s a tiny little hideaway in between New Vegas and the Mojave Outpost where I came through. There’s not a lot going on here except for a clean source of water and some Brahmin, but the folk here are good simple folk. Doc Mitchell in particular. He’s the doctor that patched me up. Apparently, he comes from a vault as well. Vault 21, located up in New Vegas. He moved from there with his wife and settled here. Then there’s Sunny Smiles, and Trudy, all willing to help a stranger in need way out here. It’s strange that such a community can not only survive, but thrive. Perhaps it’s because it’s away from any raider’s attention.
Until Joe Cobb that is.
A ex-chain gang member from the nearby correctional facility, Joe Cobb threatened to take over the town, even tried to enlist the sympathies of myself. I had very little understanding of what these “powder gangers” wanted but even as a chronicler, I felt it was within my right to aid in the fight against Cobb and his gang. I suppose the law of the wasteland would eventually have Goodsprings succumb to whatever stronger forces pervade out there, but as a favor to return for bringing myself back from the dead, it seemed like the right thing to do.
The existence of good folk in a small town in the middle of the wasteland indicate that there’s still human decency left in the world. They might be rare, or even endangered in such an environment, but the presence of Goodsprings give hope to the idea that perhaps people can pull together to overcome the obstacles of our ruined past. Perhaps they are the only town with such quality, perhaps it’s a quintessential quality that never died even when the bombs hit. Either way, there are good folk in Goodsprings and I did my best in keeping it that way.
Next Stop. Primm.