<<UserID:Webb>> My leg is doing much better today. Looks clear of infection, and the pain is very manageable -- no problems with weight bearing. I’ll keep an eye on it, of course, but looks like I dodged a gangrenous bullet there. That’s the last time I let those little bastards get close to take a bite, I’ll tell you that.
My first stop this morning after taking care of myself was the Prospector Saloon. Sunny was at her usual table, having breakfast, and Cheyenne was enjoying some chow of her own from a bowl on the floor. I was only halfway through explaining the idea of doing something about the Powder Gangers before she cut me off and said she was in, bless her. Reminds me more of Jess than ever. She may not have Jess’s formal training, but she damn sure has her gung-ho spirit.
Sunny suggested we get the townsfolk together and prepped for a fight, so that, when the ‘Gangers come for Ringo, we can hit them hard enough that they don’t think about coming back. Show them that Goodsprings isn’t some ghost town that will blow away in the wind. It’s as good an idea as anything I could devise, so we split up to see who we could recruit.
As I was already in the Prospector, I figured I’d hit up Trudy first, while she was still hopefully in a good mood from my fixing her radio yesterday. She took a little convincing, but eventually I got her to see the light of a united front and convincing the ‘Gangers that they can’t just sweep into town and do whatever they like. She said she’d round up some folks as well. Seems like Goodsprings is on its way to having its own militia.
Next, I brought some lunch from Trudy’s up to Mitchell’s place, and, over roast iguana, he and I went over our pooled medical supplies and made plans for dealing with any injuries that might arise if things went bad with the Powder Gangers. He’d be sitting out the fight itself, of course, but he’d have his little operating theater prepped and ready to go. Here’s hoping we won’t need it.
I spotted the old “prospector” Easy Pete ambling through town as I left Mitchell’s. Well, he claims he’s a prospector, but, as far as I can tell, he’s just a retired scavenger who prefers a more colorful name for his profession.
Sunny had mentioned he might have some dynamite hidden away somewhere, and that sort of ordnance could definitely come in handy -- after all, the Powder Gangers would definitely be bringing explosives of their own.
Pete was hesitant at first, and perhaps rightly so -- he was unsure that anyone other than him had the experience to handle dynamite safely. After a few minutes, though, I convinced him that Mitchell and I were more than ready to put right any mishaps and, besides, this wasn’t exactly my first time around explosives. Reluctantly, he agreed and went to dig up his stash. I hope to hell we won’t need it, but I’ll be glad to know it’s handy.
I even asked the robot Victor to chip in, and he was more than happy to volunteer. I figure, even if he isn’t much in a fight, the rest of us can still use the big guy as cover. We can always patch him up afterwards, right?
My last stop was the general store. We’ve got people and weapons -- now we need some protection, and Chet was the only source in town. He was just recalcitrant as everyone had warned; he simply didn’t want to be involved in a potential scrap in any way and risk himself or his stock. I asked him how long he thought his store would last if the ‘Gangers took over Goodsprings -- they don’t strike me as the bartering type. He finally saw the light and begrudgingly forked over some decent leather armor for the would-be militia members.
Now, we’re armed, armored, and as ready as we’re going to be. Everyone is forming up behind some makeshift wagon barricades between the town and Route 15; the prison the ‘Gangers took over is to the east, so they should be coming at us from that direction. I’m going to go let Ringo know that we’re ready to make a stand.
The only thing left to do at this point is to wait for the ‘Gangers to make their play.