[color=92278f] “Redding Schmidt! That’s the guy from the Desperados… The one those raiders were gunning for, the one responsible for that firestorm I suppose”. 
[/color]

As Annelise spoke to him, his mind slightly drifted.  He still caught everything she said, but every now and then flashes of his past would hit him and leave behind a terrible headache.  Sometimes he would hear voices, but he wasn't quite yet sure if he was thinking it all himself or if he was indeed going crazy.  He saw his wife this time, as was usually the case.  He could only feel her presence, though could not make her face out.  She whispered faintly into his ear "You don't have to kill".  Again, he wasn't sure if it was his own mind or not, as she vanished instantly and left him with an aching head.

[color=steelblue] "Good," [/color] Dallen replied, quickly massaging his temples and trying to ignore what had just happened.  [color=steelblue] "Then he owes us for cleaning up the mess!" [/color]  He stood and looked Annelise in the eyes, feeling more like himself again.  [color=steelblue] "If he doesn't see it that way, maybe he needs someone killed.  In this town, business is booming." [/color]

Just as the Cracked Glass came into view, Dallen turned his head and flicked away a smoke.  His eyes caught a view of Frank, one of his older companions, running down the back alleyways of other broken down homes.  The laser rifle was shooting off randomly, as was other gunfire.  The fighting never seemed to stop in New Reno.  Normally, Dallen wouldn't give a fuck about Frank's fate.  However, he had been in enough gunfights to know that Frank was being pursued by others and might need a hand.  Something about starting the journey with the guy made Dallen feel the need to pursue it.

[color=steelblue] "I'll meet you in there in a moment," [/color] Dallen said to Annelise.  [color=steelblue] "Might be an advantage if we go in not knowing one another.  I'll try to be quick." [/color]  He pulled the backpack around to his chest, then pulled out some caps to give to her so that she could at least buy some drinks in the while.  Dallen did notice a small group of ragged clothed and looking children, eyeing him as he put the backpack around to his back.  He didn't think much of it, then ran off down the alleyways behind the buildings.

The city was like a labyrinth behind the lights and glamor.  Within the first minute of following, the Cracked Glass was already well out of view.  It wasn't long after when he found Frank, though the man was in quite the predicament.  He was danger close with some other gang, all of them with weapons drawn and circling a clearly dazed and high off his mind Frank.  Though his former companion, as mad as he was, was laughing even with these odds.  Frank lowered his weapon to the floor and scratched his ass, still laughing.  Dallen rose an eyebrow, wondering if this would even be worth it.  He was too close as well, at least for his own comfort.  The apparent leader of the small gang, mostly made of young boys trying to be hard men, moved toward Frank and started screaming in beats, "WHAT...THE FUCK...ARE YOU LAUGHING FOR...LOOK AROUND MOTHER FUCKER!" 

Dallen dropped the backpack to the ground, as it only slowed his reflexes down.  He unholstered his firearms, one in each hand, and took a few steps forward.  It was going to get messy, he knew.  

"WHY ARE YOU STILL LAUGHING YOU FUCKING MORON!!" 

Frank stopped laughing and raised an asscheek up, it was in this moment that Dallen paused and realized that Frank didn't scratch his ass, he pulled a pin.  Frank farted, as the second later the grenade in between his asscheeks went off.  The explosion was quick and sudden, tearing everything around it to pieces.  Dallen flew backward and slammed his already aching head into a brick wall of a building.  

He blacked out, but just for a moment.  When he came to, his sight was blurry and his head was now ringing.  The few flammable objects lying around the alleyway were lit on fire, and the remains of all the people were found throughout.  The next thing he saw as he turned over to his side, was one of the children from earlier stealing his backpack and running off.  

[color=steelblue] "Get back here...you little shit!" [/color] Dallen yelled, which resulted in him spitting up some blood.  The man coughed and then instead of getting up to his feet, decided to lay back down on his back for a minute or two.  His white collar shirt and black tie were covered in debris and blood, mainly from the others but he was bleeding himself in various places along his right side.  His face turned back to its normal color as he slowly inhaled and exhaled, calming his heart rate down in the process.  When he felt as fine as he was going to feel, he pulled out a cigarette from his shirt pocket and lit it up.  He took a few long, deep drags as he continued to rest on the dirty ground.  [color=steelblue] "Fuck this town." [/color]

Eventually, Dallen got back to his feet and made his way into the Cracked Glass.  He was in quite a bit of pain and had lost the backpack to some brat kids, but he still had enough caps in his pant pocket to at least get a drink or two.  Without even noticing who all was around him, and trying to hide the obvious fact that he looked like shit, he sat at the bar and laid some caps down.  

[color=steelblue] "Whiskey," [/color] he ordered.