So here we have a short chapter. Sorry about the long time I was gone, I was dealing with Finals and can now gladly say I have passed them all and am on my way to graduation. The next JoJo story chapter should also be up later today so that also another plus.

Anyway let's enjoy the story.

Chapter 4 - How To Take A Life

It was a very hectic afternoon so to say. After the whole Powder Ganger fiasco, John and Glynda spent the time to try and clean up so to speak. Glynda was silent for the entire time, and stuck to sitting on the flatbed of the truck once more as John did most of the work. The one body among the Powder Gangers was taken off the road and put behind a bunch of rocks, and had a pile of even more rocks on top of him. Glynda would have prefered that they do something a bit more humane, but it wasn't like they had the tools to give a proper burial. The one that was rendered to a pile of ashes was blown away with the winds, or at least half of him was.

As for the last one alive, John took him to the opposite side of the road and waited for him to wake up. He already stripped him of all weapons, ammo and anything that could be used as a weapon or was of use of them. There were a few caps and other stuff on him along with the other body, but nothing else of use. Maybe the guy who was now a pile of Ash had something, but if he did then it was now vaporized.

All John was doing right now was waiting for for the man to wake up and take care of him. He wasn't going to kill him, he was of no harm to him anymore, and he didn't want to put more pressure on Glynda by killing him, an armless man no less.

John turned his gaze towards the Powder Ganger once he heard him begin to wake up and mumble to himself. He began to get up till he was leaning back on his back and looking around, but widened his eyes once he saw him standing in front of him.

"Ah shit," The powder Ganger said once he noticed his predicament.

"Nice to see you to," John said sarcastically.

"So what, you going to fucking off me or something?"

"No," John replied, surprising the Powder Ganger, "I'm letting you go."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, i'm letting you go."

"Letting me go? You're fucking letting me go!? You fucking killed Mac and Joe, you fucking piece of shit!"

"We acted in self defense, and you Powder Gangers are nothing but over glorified raiders, so what do you know?"

Powder Gangers were just low raiders who liked to run around and torment and kill people for caps and supplies after all. These people probably had a few kills under their belts, maybe even young innocent families too.

"Shut the hell up you asshole! You're fucking dead man! Our boys back at base are going to know about this, and when they do they are going to fucking kill you, you and that bitch!" The Powder Ganger said before turning towards the road were Glynda was, "You hear me you fucking bi-"

The Powder Ganger didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, as John sent a heavy kick right to his chest knocking the wind out of him and sending him back on his back coughing up spit.

"Unless you really want to join your friends you should shut your mouth, I'm trying to be merciful to you."

"Merciful? You're sending me out into the fucking wastes with nothing to defend myself with! You better just fucking put a bullet in me, better than getting ripped to shreds by fucking muties or some shit!"

It was true, the chance of this guy getting killed by all the sorts of mutants out there was a huge risk for him. Gekko, Mole Rat, Radscorpion, Bloatflies, all were a threat in this wide open wasteland, and despite being small they could tear into people like butter sometimes. Hopefully he could throw a punch or 2, or maybe scavenge a stick or rock to help defend him.

"I could, but I don't want to. I'm not some free raiding killer who goes out and raids people for the fun of it. Yes there is the chance you could encounter a gecko or two, but maybe you could find a rock or something."

"And food and water? I'll fucking starve to death or some shit!"

John only sighed at his words. If a mutant animal wasn't going to kill him, dehydration would. He probably has gone a day, if not a few without water. He also just awoken from getting knocked on his head a while ago, so there was that.

He went to his Pip-boy and went into his inventory, taking out only a bottle of water and a thing of Buffout. The bottle of water however was dirty and had bits of grime and dirt mixed into it, making it a mucky brown color. He took the two item in his hand and put them on the ground before turning around.

"That water will get your through till you either find some civilization or maybe a few more of your friends out here, and that Buffout will help dull the pain in your head."

"This water's dirty as shit!"

"Yeah but it's what you're getting, be glad I actually give you some water. Now I think we're done here, so good luck out there."

With that said John walked away from the man, who continued to curse his name as he walked away. There was no point in looking back to see if he was going to be attacked by him, that man already knew he would be in for it if he tried anything. Now he had to take care of one more person to take care of, and hopefully there would be a lot less yelling.

When John came back he was greeted by the sight of the still silent and still Glynda sitting in the back of the truck. He saw that she had still been gazing off into space since he left.

"How are you holding up?" John asked as he approached her.

Glynda blinked a few times before realizing John was talking to her, and turned her attention to him.

"Excuse me?" She asked.

"I asked how you're holding up, you have been staring off into space for the last 10 minutes."

"Oh, i'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind at the current moment."

"First time killing a person?" John asked as he took a seat next to her.

Glynda didn't respond to his question, she instead looked down at the ground now, the memory of the two men on the ground, one a pile of dust and the other a cold corpse, filling her head. It was like a still image that was burned into her mind with an iron brand, and it hurt, both in mind and soul.

John let out a small smile as he knew that Glynda was still trying to process everything, and probably needed to talk to her about all of this. She probably thinks everything she did was in the wrong, but he needed to get her to understand that in a way she did the right thing.

"I understand what you're going through you know, and I know it's a bit hard to accept at first, but what you did was for the best," John said, making Glynda turn to him in shock.

"For the best? Two people are dead because of me! How is this for the best?!" Glynda yelled.

"Because what else could you have done?"

"I could have just knocked them out like that last guy. Instead I ended up turning one into a cold corpse, and turning another into a pile of ashes. I'm a Huntress. I'm suppose to save the lives of others, not take them!"

"Look, I know things might be different on Remnant, but here on Earth the world is swarming with raiders, rapists, murderers and all sorts of psychos that want nothing more than to rip you to shreds. As much as would like to solve the problems in front of me with diplomacy, words won't do wonders when a raider high on psycho and jet is running at you with a spear. You also can't try and knock out every bad guy we meet. Sometimes it's better to just put them down and think that you did good by ridding the world of some bits of evil."

"But they are still people, people with lives. Who are we to take those lives away, no matter how bad or good they may be?" Glynda countered.

"I can't answer that. I wish I could, but sometimes you have to take a life, whether it's for the good of your own survival, or another. I thought I was some sick monster at first when I killed those Powder Gangers back in goodsprings," John said as he turned to look into the eyes of Glynda, a bit surprised that he killed those Powder Gangers in Goodsprings.

"But then I remembered that by killing those few men, raiders who wanted to make the townsfolk their living entertainment, I saved the lives of twice if not three times as many people. It's twisted if you think of it, but if I could save ten people from killing just one or two people, I would. Because that way I can at least feel some good in me."

Glynda could only sit and look into the eyes of John as he finished talking. She wanted to retort everything he said, tell him that he was wrong, tell him that he was nothing but a killer for what he had done. But she couldn't, she couldn't find any way to counter what he said. It made sense, every word he said made sense and was right in a way, and she didn't like it. She always thought that people who would kill to 'save' and protect were not real heroes in a sense, and that they were in some way twisted and nothing but killers. But as she into his eyes, she couldn't see any sign of a killer. She wasn't looking into the eyes of a killer, but into the eyes of a man who just wants to survive and help her get through this.

She looked away from his eyes and huddled herself up, holding her legs close to her chest and she turned her gaze back to the ground.

"But this feeling inside of me, the regret I feel from taking those lives. How could I get use to taking more lives? How could I even feel good about killing?" She asked.

"You don't, you should never feel good about taking a life, no matter who you kill," John responded, "Only when you feel yourself get use to it like a second nature, or god forbid actually enjoy killing is when you become a real monster."

"So i'm just suppose to just to just let this terrible feeling of regret in me just sit there and grow as I continue to kill? What did you do to make yourself feel a bit better after you killed those men in Goodsprings?"

"To be honest, I shut myself in for a few days. I spent my time in the saloon drinking away for a bit. I remembered that when the shootout ended, I could only stare forward at the bodies on the floor for a while, bloodied and even missing a few limbs. They were raiders sure, people who enjoyed robbing people and even killing, but still people. But remember what I said before, by ending few lives of men who wanted to kill and torment others, I saved many more. Sunny was there to help me get through, and even Doc Mitchell was there to make sure I was still alright in the head, and not going to go crazy. It took me a day, but I realized what I did was somewhat of a good thing. So yes, you will feel like a killer sometimes for taking a life, but you just need to remind yourself, it was for the greater good."

Once again, Glynda couldn't find any real fault in John's words. Sure she still disagreed in some way, but the point that he was trying to make was that even though she had, and would possibly have to take lives didn't make her a killer. It was a bit comforting the way he was trying to get her to understand that in someway John also agrees with her. He killed yes, but did that make him a killer. Did he enjoy it? No. Did he do it out of necessity to survive and save? Yes, he did. And the ideology that by ending a few lives he could save twice as more. Yes, in some way she could see how ending the lives of a band of raiders meant the survival of a town twice the size could mean for the greater good, but was it still worth it? Was is still worth the lives you ended, what about them?

John took note that Glynda seemed to just sit there and ponder his words. He could tell that she understood what he said, but wasn't exactly on board with everything yet. He couldn't blame her though, in some way he understands that it would be better to save everyone rather than take lives for the sake of your own survival, and the survival of others. Sadly though the world isn't like that, the ideology of having to solve problems with words and not violence died over 200 years ago with the rest of the world. Instead it's more of an endangered way of living, one which may die out.

Perhaps she wasn't ready for this, maybe she needed more time to get use to it, or maybe just go back to Goodsprings and not have to worry about it traveling with him and having more blood on her hands.

"Do you want to go back?" John asked as got off the back of the truck to face Glynda.

"Excuse me?"

"I asked if you want to go back, back to Goodsprings that is. You could wait there and have to never worry about coming with me and having to kill someone while we're on the road. I'm sure the people back there wouldn't mind having you around, and you could stick with Sunny and protect the town from the geckos from time to time," John said as he began laying out Glynda's options, "Or, you could still come with me. There is a much larger chance at finding a way back home for you, but the downside is that you would have to end some lives while on the road. It's your choice, and i'll go with whatever you say."

Glynda was a bit surprised with what John just said to her. She noted how he wasn't pleading her to come with him. He wasn't telling her that coming with him was the only option, nor did he demand anything from her. He was giving her the choice, move forward and have to take more lives while hoping it would all be for the purpose of getting home, or sit and wait in a town with no doubt little chance of ever seeing a single opportunity of getting back.

Could she do it?

She looked back at John to see his outstretched hand in front of her. She took a deep breath and reached out to it and took a firm hold of it as she found herself standing on the solid ground once more.

"Are you sure about this?" John asked, making sure this was her decision.

"I'm sure, I understand the full consequence of my actions. I understand that I may have to take lives if I wish to find someway home. But promise me that if there is a way to solve a conflict through words and not bloodshed, we will take that way without hesitation."

"Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way."

That was all Glynda needed. She let out a quick breath of relief, and looked back into the brown eyes of John.

"Alright, let's get going."

(END)