Chapter 04: Beyond the eyes of Men
Charlyn/Edden and Ron come to a small snowy bluff and in the distance they could make out the brick and concrete building in the distance. Sprawled around the ancient factory were burnt out wrecks of vehicles and the remnants of small buildings that nature and the devices of man laid low. A light gust of icy wind swirled snow flakes at Edden. The cold pricked her skin, goosebumps rose all over her body, but she didn't react like others did, she didn't flinch or hug her arms for warmth. The soft crunch of snow under boot heel was heard as the two kept a silence since they left the troubled Cold Oasis inn. She had honestly looked forward to some waffles and bed and breakfast and maybe even a hooker to go with that breakfast, but the staff tried to rob her and Ron and had been cooking other guests; so things went sour and appetites had been lost.
Charlyn halted and Ron did the same.
Grabbing the binoculars she had pilfered off some long forgotten raider's body, she put her eyes to the lenses and focused at the main gates and the guard box that had let people in and out of the long forgotten facility.
A chain link fence went around the rectangular shaped building. The sign had high voltage symbol, bold yellow with a bright lightning bolt in the center. It was a warning. Touch the fence and fry. Wiser creatures would stay away, unwise ones ended up charred flesh and bone.
The Parking lot was in shambles, asphalt long beaten and broken by years of weathering and disrepair. She licked her dry lips to moisten them; the weather was playing havoc on her skin. Winter could be as unforgiving as the height of summer in the desert.
The depot area had the iron shutters down and the delivery trucks of nuka-cola parked in their positions. Some Chevrolet Corvettes and Ford Thunderbirds, and trailer trucks lay piled up in the in the lot; battered, broken, and beyond repair. The rain, frost and the elements turned these once plush vehicles into rusting hulks only good for inflicting blood poisoning to those foolish enough to play around them.
Across the lot was the main office door. Which was smartly sealed shut; but that didn't make it impregnable. The door was sturdy, strong, meant to take the knocks of time and persistence. The shutters were sealed and jammed from within Red knew there was no go there. Scanning to westerly end of the facility, she could make out charred figures and bones in suits laid about. Another guard house, a small one, but secure. A place where they could take shelter. On the Easterly end was the area where the backup generator could be found. Deftly snatching the map from Ron, she saw the marked area where the generator could be found. She gave it a quick read and handed it back.
Checking her hip, she saw she had four clips of 10mm Auto jacketed-hollow-points, and some twenty five .12ga buckshot shells and five 12ga. solid slugs. Two fragmentation grenades at her hip, and her knife: it was a tanto bladed Ontario Combat knife, with seven inch blade with small serration. Grabbing the shotgun, she knew the breach was fully loaded with six shells. She had also checked the internals of her newly acquired Mossberg 500 earlier and was happy to know the disconnector wasn't present, meaning, she could hold down the trigger and pump to her dark heart's delight, and there was little chance of stovepiping either.
She spent all her time not saying a single word to Ron, for she was focused, she had a goal and she wanted to reach there before any small talk could start.
Ron says nothing in return, only following Edden to the factory. He felt like a foreigner. He was.
Maybe he'd make it up to her.
The two men who had watched the duo travel from the Inn to this factory looked on still. Gog and Magog looked at each other and took turns looking through their advanced binoculars. These devices were modifications of the Steel Templar issue, able to determine distance, clarity of vision for miles and also heat signature features. How they acquired such technology was anyone's guess.
"She is moving faster then anticipated." Gog's face remained as impassive as stone, but there was a hint of surprise. His face and jaw seemed untouched by the cold that was blowing down from them from the north east.
"Yes, she is ahead of the game." Magog replied to his brother's observation. "I don't think Essex anticipated this. Of course, who could have, given her… situation. Plans will have to be altered. Witnesses and survivors removed as prescribed. And there are some trackers on her trail since Moscow. Local Regulators." Magog said, his ever word concise and mechanical.
"Eliminate them, Magog?" Came the rhetorical reply of the bigger man. "No... Not yet. No one is aware of us. Not the Empire, nor Lord Howard or even his second in command Kane... not even the Steel Templars. No. She won't be able to piece it altogether. Besides, even if she were deemed a threat, even if she remembered; we'd still need authorization from Essex. He after all, has his long term plans for Red." Gog knew his master's depth of thinking. He was the type who always saw long term, who always saw a use for someone. And so Gog was bred not to act upon emotion, he was bred to obey and do his job.
"What about the Pilgrim?" Magog asked, his voice low when he mentioned that name.
"Him? He we would have to watch for, but he isn't in this area and not a threat to us. But still, we have our orders and we stick to them. No exceptions." Gog said finally.
Magog only nodded his head. They both looked to the duo that traveled to the Factory, and they would be watching them for a time.