"Whoa, easy there. Easy." the old man said as he reached his hand towards him, "You been out cold a couple of days now."
A couple of days? How was that possible? The courier looked around with the face of surprised that he was still alive, but he still felt like shit. As a strong headache came in the moment he tried to get out of bed. The courier didn 't know how to react to the situation other than look around the old house quickly. "Why don 't you just relax a second? Get your bearings." the old man tried to calm the younger man down. The courier breathed slower now and looked around once more. The old man must 've been a doctor or something as he quickly saw the medical equipment.
"Let 's see what the damage is." the old man said as he moved the chair closer towards the bed. He was sitting on that chair as he took a hard look at the courier while talking to him, "How about your name? Can you tell me your name?"
"Phillips Henderson..." the courier said as it was the first time he had spoke since the night of the ambush.
"Phillips... can 't say it 's what I 'd have picked for you." the old man acted surprised by the name, "But if that 's your name, that 's your name. I 'm Doc Mitchell, by the way."
The courier looked at the doctor and asked, "Where am I?"
"You 're at Goodsprings. Welcome to this lovely...
... middle of paper ...
...he pain flares up."
Phillips thanked Mitchell once again for the help and left for the Mojave Wasteland. Once he set foot outside, the sun was blighter than every as he had to cover his eyes for a moment. Then, he saw the town of Goodsprings and its people doing their daily chores. He saw the Prospector Saloon and the general store near each other as Phillips knew where to start his mission of retreating the chip. The note said that he was to drop it off at Primm 's Mojave Express to Johnson Nash. He knew that the chip wasn 't dropped off there, but it was a good start for now. Then, he saw Victor rolling on the street with a cowboy on his screen. Asking Victor some questions won 't be a terrible idea.
So, Henderson went down the short hill and towards Victor. He must know something about his 'killer ' and the guys, that worked for him. Someone must know something.
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