[b]James Farkas - Freeside
[/b]

It didn’t take long for James to find the run down old house the drunk had mentioned. It truly did live up to its description. The windows were gone, there was little to no furniture inside and part of the roof had caved in leaving the place almost completely open to the elements. Its appearance wasn’t even the worst thing about it though, the smell was. A strong and assaulting odor of piss and sweat that could make a fiend gag. James covered his nose with the sleeve of his coat as he entered, now grateful for it’s lack of windows. He couldn’t think of much worse than walking through such a hell hole blind.
 
Thankfully he found Jacob quickly, he was curled up in a corner at the top of the stairs. Even in the dim light James could tell the man's skin was red and blotchy and he was sweating. Despite that he was also shaking slightly as if he were somehow cold. 
 
“Jacob… Jacob!” James yelled.
 
“Wh.. Wha.. What!?” The addict yelled back, snapping out of his suffering for a moment.
 
“Get your ass up. Julie sent me for you.”
 
“Julie… She’s a good woman.” 
 
“Yeah, better than we deserve. You especially. Now come, get your tired old ass up and come back to the fort with me. We still need you old timer, addiction is obviously still a problem here.”
 
“I can’t get up James. My bones hurt more with every convulsion and what muscles I got left feel like they’re on fire… Please, I just need a hit. Bring me a hit. Dixon's got what I need.”
 
“Dixon huh? I’ve seen that asshole around. Where can I find him now?” 
 
“Outside of Mick and Ralph's. He sells low quality but highly addictive chems to the vagrants that stay opposite there. Worse than an amateur  chemist… Had to buy from him though, the Garrett's wouldn’t sell to me.” 
 
“Yeah, I know all about that. All right, I’m gonna go have a talk with him. I’ll be back for you Jacob. You’re not going to erode your knowledge one hit at a time.”
 
James turned away and went back down the stairs, out the door and went quickly on down the street, his fingers drumming on the grip of his pistol.