Brad Zaxxon's Arc

Chapter 6 of 7

Brad was halfway back to camp when he spotted the figure standing beside the road. The man wore dusty leathers and carried a rifle slung across his back, one hand raised in a slow wave. Brad slowed the vehicle, recognition clicking into place—the caravan guard from Gecko, the one he'd pulled out when the deathclaws circled. The guard walked forward as Brad stopped, pulling a worn leather journal from his pack. "Been looking for you three days," he said, flipping it open to a marked page. "Set up camp by that broken sign post a mile back, figured you'd come through eventually." He turned the journal toward Brad, pointing to a sketched map with dates and locations. "Owed you a favor. Thought you'd want to know about this." The entry showed a route through the northern wastes, ending at a location labeled Sierra Army Depot with a note scrawled beside it: *Living thing inside. Hunts by electromagnetic signature. Took out our scout's pip-boy first.* Brad stared at the entry, his mind connecting it to the procurement files in his pack. The thing in Vault 17's sublevel drew massive power—enough to generate a strong electromagnetic signature. If something at Sierra was hunting EM sources, it might be drawn to sublevel three once activated systems started broadcasting. "You saw this yourself?" Brad asked. The guard nodded. "Lost two people before we figured out what it was tracking. It's systematic. Goes after the strongest signal it can detect." He tapped another entry showing equipment readings. "Your pip-boy modification—the ham radio setup—that'd light you up like a beacon." Brad closed the journal and handed it back, but his hand was already moving to his pip-boy's power settings. The trading post needed the radio to work, but if he broadcast from Calico Flats with the sublevel active nearby, he might draw whatever was at Sierra straight to the settlement. He looked at the guard, then back toward camp where the procurement files sat waiting. The favor had been repaid, but it had cost him the clean choice he'd been planning. He couldn't open the trading post until he knew what was in that sublevel—and whether turning it on would paint a target on everyone within range.