Kathy Winfield's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Kathy Winfield wiped dust from the microscope lens and leaned closer. The slide showed mutated cells from a brahmin blood sample—radiation damage spreading through the tissue like cracks in glass. She'd been studying these patterns for three years, patching up Brick's squad and every sick trader who stumbled through. Her notebooks held formulas, dosage calculations, and conversion charts between animal and human treatments. Somewhere out there, pre-war research existed that could turn her scavenged veterinary compounds into real cures. She just had to find it. The stone tower stood three miles from her current clinic, its flat top visible against the sky. Metal rungs climbed the exterior wall, and wooden shelves lined the inside—perfect for storage and observation. She could see traders approaching from up there, scan the area with her Vault-Tec medical scanner for radiation hot spots. The device's glowing indicators would tell her which zones to avoid, which paths stayed safe. This tower could become her base for the real search, the one that mattered. She packed her notebooks and sample cases into her bag. The refurbished Vault-Tec clinic she'd been using had served its purpose—treating patients, trading supplies with caravans, gathering rumors about pre-war facilities. But rumors weren't enough anymore. That veterinary college fifteen miles north kept pulling at her thoughts. Pharmaceutical data on protein folding. Research notes on cellular mutation. Files that could explain why three of her patients developed night vision, why some lost memories she couldn't account for. Kathy climbed the first metal rung and tested her weight. The tower held steady. From up there, she'd map every possible research site within traveling distance. She'd catalogue what each location might contain—oncology data, radiation treatment protocols, anything on protein stabilization in irradiated cells. Her chelation compounds worked, twenty-seven successful treatments proved that. But working wasn't the same as curing. She needed those pre-war files. And she'd find them.