[u][b]Mary Hawthorne - Riding a borrowed horse - outskirts of town[/b][/u]

Tiring of riding circles around the Village Square, and to find a spout to let the horse graze, Mary ambled down the road South. She didn't plan to go far, as she didn't know how the horse would react near the Museum. Heading to the outskirts of town, Mary passed by the ruins of houses, looking for a suitable place to stop. It was then she noticed the stranger down the road, running towards her waving his arms over his head. He looked young, wearing a jeans, with a green jacket over a T-shirt. He was armed, a rifle was slung over his shoulder, but his demeanor didn't strike her as threatening....he seemed to be running away from something. She nudged the horse forward and trotted up to him and stopped. 

The man appeared to be completely distracted by the horse, and approached and began to gently run his hands along it's face and neck. Obviously he had never seen a horse before...Mary could only guess that the horse and it's rider had come from elsewhere. West? From Canada? But he hadn't been signalling her so he could touch the horse...he was scared of [i]something[/i], and it wasn't just the Museum. 

"There something wrong, mister?", Mary asked politely, "You looked like you were in trouble."   

He shook his head then spoke. “You have to be careful out here", he said, pointing West, "I just came from some place called Dunwich Borers. Some creepy stuff happening over there, hooded men and women chanting before some stone monolith."

"The Quarry?", Mary asked, "Worshiping a monolith?" Mary found that quite odd. "The Quarry is held by Raiders...never heard of Raiders worshiping an [i]idol[/i]." 

"Also they were digging further down...", he continued, "They chased me when they saw me, I think I gave them the slip, but I’d be careful if I were you. They definitely did not seem friendly… and the presen-…yeah not friendly.” He looked like he was about to say more, but checked himself and started fiddling with his backpack nervously. 

“Sorry, for the rudeness.", he said after composing himself. "My name is Rick, Rick Noel… But please believe me, stay away from that area.”

About then, the hairs began to stand up on the back of her neck...she was in danger. Not from Rick....but someone else nearby. 

"Pleased to meet you, Rick...i'm Mary Hawthorne", Mary replied with a eerie calm as she reached into a pocket and her fingers curled around the grip of her revolver. "Don't act alarmed, but we're about to be attacked. Be a dear and get that rifle unslung, if you please."

As Rick unslung his rifle from his shoulder, the bushes in front of the ruined house less than fifty feet to Mary's right rustled and two forms hurtled out, rushing straight for them.

"PH´NGLUI SOTH!", one of them screamed as he raised up a old Chinese officer's sword and charged straight for her. Mary pulled out the revolver and rapidly emptied it into his chest. At least one round connected, as the assailant screamed, dropping the sword and clutching at his chest as he staggered back. About that time, Rick opened fire, the sound of the high-powered rifle startling the horse and causing it to rear back. Unable to hold on, Mary leapt off instead, landing on her feet. She raided the revolver again and pulled the trigger, only to hear a click as the hammer fell on a spent cartridge. Her attacker, blood beginning to trickle from a corner of his youth, looked at her with pure hatred as he used his free hand to inject himself in the neck with a Psycho injector he had produced from within his robes. 

"Bitch!", he spat at her as he pulled out a large knife that had been jammed into his belt, "I'm gonna make you wish you'd never been born!"

Mary dropped the revolver and snatched the sword off the ground and fell into an "en garde" stance, waiting for her assailant to make his move. He lunged forward to strike, which she easily parried, leaving him wide open so that she could run him through, the blade finding his heart. This was too much for even his drug induced frenzy to compensate for, and he sunk to his knees, blood now gushing from his mouth. He gurgled something at her then fell over dead. She stood there for a moment, panting to catch her breath as she savored the moment...then looked around. Rick had dealt with the other attacker, fortunately. She stuck the sword in the ground, point first, and picked up her revolver, ejecting the shells into her hand then pulling them in her pocket and reloading the cylinder with a speed loader. She then walked up to the attacker and put a round into his temple to make sure he was dead. Noticing a medallion around his neck, she pulled it off and pocketed it. Walking over to the crumpled form of the other one, she saw a check shot was unnecessary as the back of his skull had been blown out from Rick's rifle. She looked over at Rick, her arm, still holding the smoking revolver hanging limp by her side. 

"We need to get out of here, Rick", Mary said. "there may be more of them".       

Fortunately, the horse had not gone far, so she was able to approach it and calm it down, and climbed back aboard. 

"Get up behind me", Mary said, reaching out her hand for him to take. "just stay still, and hold on to me and we'll get back to town alright."

After a couple attempts, she was able to get Rick onboard, and they rode back into town, heading for her house. She put the horse in the brahmin pen, and took his bridle off. 

"Well, Rick", she said, "I must say that meeting you has been....interesting. If you'd like, I can put out a extra plate for you...and perhaps you could tell me more about what you saw in that Quarry."

She led him inside, passing through the living room and the robots she had found piled up on the floor. As well as the bloody saddle from the horse....something she needed to address soon.  

"Amazing what folks throw out, isn't it?", Mary said, "Found them while looking for bottles. I hope to find someone able to get at least one of them working again...don't know the first thing about fixing them myself."

She then took Rick into the kitchen, inviting him to take a seat at the kitchen table. She offered him some brahmin milk from the refrigerator, and then began to prepare venison stew. 

"Only meat I have is venison", Mary said as she moved about the kitchen, "but I've got some pretty good recipes for it."

Once it was prepared, and cooking, she got herself some milk and sat down at the table opposite him. 

"So tell me, Rick", Mary said in a friendly manner, "What brings you to Salem?"