Joan found herself passing a small picket sign. "WARNING: Radioactive Activity Past This Point." The warning seemed almost underwhelming, considering the land that it bordered. An entire desert populated with scavenging dwellers, an entire land laid to waste through politics and rebellion. A part of Joan wished that she could heed that warning and turn back, but it was too late for that. She sat in the hovering jeep, and continued to drive on. Nobody else could follow her into this wasteland, and so her vehicle seated only herself and whatever rations she may require to survive. She'd need her wits about her, and all the grit she could bring to bear. She'd been known to survive in the past, yet this would be her greatest test of all. To survive the Australian Desert without succumbing to it was unlikely if not foolhardy, yet Joan had too much at stake. She would save her father. She couldn't save her, but at the very least she could save one of them. She drove on for around a hundred miles, and by nightfall had managed to set up camp deep within the irradiation zone. Luckily for her, the car itself was built to withstand the conditions of the exterior. However, she could not help but think that perhaps it wasn't perfect. She tried to coax herself to sleep, and eventually managed. It was one in the morning by the time she fell asleep, and six hours later she would be woken from it.
"Greetings, Joan." The Representative said through the communicator, which was then amplified to a scream upon the other side. Joan was pulled from her slumber rather forcefully by the loud noise. She sat up, and grabbed the communicator. "Geez, this bloody thing is loud." She said, "What do you want?" Joan sat back down in the reclining driver seat chair which had made a makeshift bed, and the Representative continued, "A progress report of course. I shall ask for a report at seven sharp each morning, and I expect you to be awake for it. Now, although I doubt you have made any particular progress upon this morning, I shall ask for a progress report anyway." Joan groaned. "Look, I've driven a fair while, according to this it says around a hundred miles since I hit the Australian Border. Other than that, I ain't got much to tell you." Joan shifted the chair back into an upright position, and got ready to continue. "Thank you, that shall be all." The Representative said, and the communicator turned off.
For four days this continued. Eventually, Joan managed to reach the first outback settlement. It was a small ranch, deep in the desert and closed off from the world. It was not a big property, but at the very least seemed like it still housed people. For the first time since she had driven into the desert, Joan decided to exit the vehicle. There was nothing that would protect her from the radiation, at least not entirely. The best she could rely on was a couple of ounces of radiation pills and her ability to survive almost anything thrown at her, but even then she didn't stand much of a chance. Thick desert sand laced the bottom of her boots as she stepped from the comfort of the car, and the arid heat of the wasteland around began to set in. Within the air-conditioned vehicle, she had not noticed how searing the Australian Desert was, and this place was frighteningly scorching. She stepped upon the porch of the ranch and knocked on the door. There was no answer. She knocked again, and there was still no answer. "Guess I'm doing this the hard way then." She said to herself, as a cylinder unfurled itself from her prosthetic forearm. She extended her arm, with the cylinder facing the lock of the door, and fired a piercing laser towards the lock to the door. The door blew open, and Joan stepped inside. A dead man laid face down upon the floor of the ranch, dressed in a bloodstained singlet with bullet holes through both his head and torso. The corpse had long since entered the stages of rigour mortis, and lay face down upon the ground, forgotten and left to die. It was a sight that Joan was all too familiar with, and instead of causing distress it was a sight that caused alarm. In the outback, there likely wouldn't be far for a killer to run, so it would be fair to assume that the assailant was still here, and that the man she was staring at was little more than the previous squatter.
Joan turned around just in time to see a crazed man in a pair of slacks and a cargo shirt raise a rifle to her face. She managed to duck as he shot a round at her, before hiding behind the corner of the door. She returned fire, shooting the beam laser from her arm at the man. She managed to hit him in the leg with the beam, but even still he tried to fire back with the old rifle, worn beyond its years. The rifle jammed, and the man looked up at Joan. "Kill me if ya' can!" He said. She stared down at him. "You couldn't swat a fly, could ya'?" He said again, this time with a menacing grin on his face. She put the man out of his misery, but in doing so brought that same misery upon herself.