Brad Zaxxon's Arc

Chapter 2 of 7

Brad's pip-boy crackled with static, then voices. Three different groups, all talking at once. Someone trapped in a collapsed building near old highway markers. Another group calling from what sounded like a basement, their transmission cutting in and out. A third voice, younger, saying something about raiders and a blocked exit. He traced the strongest signal to a brick structure with a radio antenna jutting from its roof. The building's blue door hung crooked on its hinges, and through the shuttered windows he could see the glow of active equipment. Inside, a base station setup sat on a makeshift table, its screen pulsing with incoming transmissions. Next to it lay a letter with dates scribbled in different handwriting, each one contradicting the last. The top line read "Dane 1: 2016" but below it someone had written "Is dute: 54: 2013." Brad picked it up, his stomach tightening. This wasn't intelligence. This was desperation dressed up as coordinates. He could relay these locations on his pip-boy right now. Get people moving, maybe save whoever was actually trapped. But the letter's confused dates meant someone was either panicking or lying, and he couldn't tell which group was real. If he sent traders into a raider trap because he didn't verify, his trading post would die before it started. If he waited for Chen to return and check the sites, people might die in collapsed rubble. Brad tucked the letter into his pack and switched his pip-boy to broadcast mode. He keyed in a simple message to all three frequencies: "Received your transmission. Need confirmation of location markers before response. Describe nearest landmark." Two groups went silent immediately. The third, the younger voice, came back with details that matched the old highway Brad knew. He marked that location on his pip-boy and headed for the door. One verified call he could answer. The others would have to wait for proof, even if it cost him sleep. His trading post would be built on information people could trust, or it wouldn't be built at all.