Douglas walked across one of the many catwalk streets of Halliburton. The city was a large water derrick, after the fashion of an oil derrick.

But rather than black gold, it pumped something far more valuable to the Wastelanders.

Water.

Vault-Tec and Halliburton had made a joint-venture project to build the derrick. It was to look like a massive oil derrick, fooling the Chinese. The ruse worked, and it was not bombed. It acted like a vault, housing a G.E.C.K. and the descendants of those who went into hiding. Three months ago, the Derrick Overseer decided to start selling the water for other provisions, parts for the air-conditioning and the new currency, bottle caps. However, now on the shore where a make-shift port had been set up for the Vault-Tec speed-boats to land, stood armor clad raiders. The crew of wastelanders who'd been stranded said they plagued the region, and most areas this far out from New Dallas and Houston.

When asked why, they responded "The Rangers, they get 'em." It seemed The Rangers were also responsible for keeping El Ej?rcito from pushing North into the rest of what had once been Northern America. The stories Douglas heard of them since the trading begun were startling to him. People who carried guns and enforced the law. Almost like the Halliburton Police, or the "HP" as they were known. Except they hadn't been given authority, they rose to it. They didn't just keep arbitrary laws in place, they ferreted out injustice and hung murderers and rapists and the like.

That was why when the time came, and the call sent out that someone was needed to send for The Rangers at their nearest outpost, Bay City. They say it was a small pre-war city that survived the war. To get there, he'd need to pass through the Matagorda Bay, in between two long islands blanketing the coast, and trek to Wadsworth. From there, he should be able to secure passage to Bay City with 500 caps he'd been given.

500 caps, his 10mm pistol and three mags, and the Pipboy 3,000 wrist-mounted device. The Derrick didn't have enough to go around, as before the bombings and in the days after it had taken on extra residence.

With this, he ascended a ladder on the great Derrick down to where the boat-bay was. There was a white speedboat, with a Pipboy logo on either side. A console with levers was over to one side with a man in a lab coat over his jumper at the controls, and another resident of Halliburton awaited him. He sported a cow-boy hat, and a duster over his jumper that bore the letter "H".

"You ready for the rid'a your life, boy?" Asked the man. With merely a nod Douglas replied, and the man motioned to some steps leading up to the rim of the boat. "Well get on up in there!" The two climbed in, and suddenly a question came to Douglas' mind. How did they get to the water? It was a good thirty feet below them. The boat was clasped at four points- two at the front and two at the back.

He get onto a bench on the left side, and the man went up to the front.

"Ay, boy, why don'tcha come ride shotgun? Ain't no one else comin' on this trip." He motioned with his right at at the rest of the empty boat before twisting his torso back to face forward with his legs. Getting up, he walked over to the front controls. The dashboard was a fine wooden gloss, and the meters were packed into a space by the wheel. There were two cup holders, the one on the passanger side holding an empty Nuka-Cola.

Before you could say "cheese", the arms began lowering. A metallic grinding sounded, but it was normal for the boat. Thirty feet, twenty feet. They were ten feet above the ground when the clasps opened up like hands and the boat feel down into the water.

The splash went up at least three quarters of a story, and Douglas almost lost his footing. He had opted not to sit in the black-leather rotating chair behind him.

"Yee-haw!" The pilot punched the gas, and soon they were speeding away from the derrick, the monolith that jutted fiffty stories, and rode over their own wake. Off towards the shore. The raiders on the shore began shooting into the air, and sometimes at them, but they were probably more than severl knots away, so it mattered little. Though it certainly startled Douglas, which caused the driver to laugh.

It was in this way that The Lone Ranger began his quest through the wastes of Texas.