Chapter 11

The Blackhall Family has a long history in point lookout, most of it is kept to themselves.

Tears and blood

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There is something seriously messed up with this book.

Not that that was unexpected but really, human skin bound cover, soaking in a basin of blood and skulls, Guarded by axe welding yokels? Forget blackwall, Marcella had the right idea. This thing needed to burn. I didn't even like touching it, made the skin on the back of my hands itch and flake. So I wound up wrapping it in a neckerchief and tied it to the end of a fishing rod, If anyone saw me as I walked along the beach I 'm sure I must have looked a bit like a happy hobo. Was starting to feel the part too. Three months I had been in point lookout and already I noticed a bit of a drawl in my voice that hadn't been there previously. I spit more too, side effect of all the wild punga fruit I'd been eating I guess. Still, beat squirrel stew any day. Helps with all the radiation I'd been soaking up as well. Not that I ever managed to get below critical anymore. I swear some nights I don't even need a lantern to see where I'm going I'm glowing so brightly.

Making my way along the beach whistling some tune I'd heard the from the yokels in the direction of Marcella tents My eyes caught movement. I frowned slightly, there were three of them, smugglers by the looks of them.

Marcella....was living in those tents.

Running forward with my backwater riffle I let a bullet fly just as the first smuggler locked eyes with me,

two left....

Dread is a feeling every wastelander learns to live with, it follows you from the moment you step out into the sunlight and follows you to every town, cave and outpost you happen to wander across. Pushing aside the tent flaps was all I needed to see what I already knew. Marcella was leaning against the desk with her head down, dirty hair matted in blood. The smugglers had killed her.

Blinking back tears. I reached over and pressing my fingers to her face smudged in blood and grime to lower her eyelids. The voice recorder on the table told the story, heartbroken pain filled words filled the tent as I sat down heavily on the dusty cot. The smugglers had attacked while she was sleeping. They took her, used her, and left her to die while they looted the rest of the tents. Before my bullets splattered there brains against the sand. Still, I knew from the writing on the wall, this wasn't any random encounter. These men were hired, and the was only one man who would call a girl like Marcella a thief.

Wiping my eyes I stood and started my way on to blackwall manor. Eyes hard and cold. I would have answers, and old man Obadiah would give me answers, or sit and rot as I fed the book to the obelisk. Actually I liked the sound of that.

Marcella....

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The Lighthouse

Grunting in frustration I gave the giant glass bulb on last twist as it finally snapped into place.

Wiping my brow I stepped back with a bit of a silly grin. 'Let there be light!' I crowed to the sky,

Actually, I still needed to flip the power switch before any light was to be had.

Feeling quite pleased with myself I sauntered over to the electrical switch and leaned on the railing beside it. I loved the lighthouse. Up top above the birds and the clouds there wasn't a thing in all the swamplands that could reach me. It was probably the safest place I had been since I pulled up to the docks.

Reaching over I gave the lighthouse switch a a quick flick.

Instantly the lighthouse beacon flared to life directly into my face. Giving a startled gasp I stumbled backwards and feeling the metal bars on my back realized to late that my momentum had flipped me over the railing. Eyes bulging I went head over teakettle down towards the rocky base of the lighthouse.

In the end all I can say is thank god for conveniently wandering mirelurks. The landing hurt like a bitch but at least I ate well that night.

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A/N Looks like the story traffic function is working again. It fills my squishy little heart with joy! Next chap might be a little darker then my usual fair. I'm still experimenting with writing styles which means I have to go through every genre eventually. And The Punga arc seems to be a good time for some heavier material....here's hoping I can pull it off.