To whoever finds this book,
My name is Marshall Pittsburgh. Sometimes people call me Mark. When this book was written, I was a courier for the Mojave Express. My job was to deliver a package to the New Vegas Strip. What happened you ask? Well that’s the story you’re about to be told. It’s a ride wilder than a roulette wheel spin at the Lucky 38.
October 16 or 17, 2281
The job started easy enough in Primm. The package was a platinum poker chip, one of six items meant to be delivered. No idea what it was for. Wasn’t my place to ask. I was meant to deliver to it to the north side of the Strip. Someone was gonna meet me there, take the chip off of my hands, then pay the Express.
But I got caught by some kind of raider looking gang. And their leader was a well dressed fellow. That suit. That black and white checkered suit. I would have admired his choice of style … if the bastard didn’t shoot me in the head! What was it he said? “Truth is, the game was rigged from the start.” We’ll see checkers, we’ll see.
October 19, 2281
I woke up in Goodsprings, still alive thanks to Victor and Doc Mitchell. Seems like I’d been out for a couple of days, but the doc patched me up just fine. He had me take some kind of a test on a Vit-o-matic Vigor Tester and then asked me some questions. After getting me all sorted and straightened, the doc suggested that I head to the Prospector’s Saloon and look for Sunny Smiles. She could help me find the gang that did this to me.
I wandered into town toward the saloon to meet Sunny. She was a nice, young looking lady. She helped me brush off some of my shooting skills with the help of Sunset Sarsaparilla bottles. I then accompanied her to deal with some geckos that were causing trouble with the town’s water supply. Sadly, we couldn’t stop one of the good folk of Goodsprings from getting killed. Sunny wished that more people took her word not to come out to the sources by themselves.
Sunny taught me how to use some of the local plants and a campfire to make a healing powder. I’m not really an outdoors kind of fellow, but it’s good to know. anyway She asked me to stop by the saloon before leaving and talk with Trudy. Sunny described her as the town’s mom and would be mad with Sunny if she didn’t send me Trudy’s way. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to say hello.
Making my way to the saloon, I saw Trudy arguing with a stranger. Seemed like the kind of guy you don’t want to talk to. Chatting with Trudy revealed that the man’s name was Joe Cobb. He was the leader of a local branch of Powder Gangers, convicts escaped from the New California Republic and armed with explosives. I asked Trudy what the gangers wanted. She said they wanted some fella named Ringo who had hunkered down in the Poseidon Energy gas station.
I paid Ringo a visit. He was jumpy at first but then calmed down when I said that I wasn’t his enemy. His side of the story was that he worked for the Crimson Caravan Company. Joe Cobb’s gang jumped his caravan on their way back to New California with himself as the only survivor. Now they want to finish the job. I promised Ringo that I would have his back if the gangers came around town again. He suggested that maybe I could rally some of the townsfolk to help us. I decided to take his advice and asked around. Let’s see who we can rustle up.
James Meyer 