Chapter Fourteen: The Station - Part One

I held my gun close, surveying the tree-line for any sort of unusual movement; even the smallest rustle was reacted to by my rifle. A slow exhale was all that would save the possible firing. I was on high alert, that much was obvious. I wouldn't be distracted, nor deterred; I'd watch, listen, and wait. It'd been hours since I first brought myself back to the tower, and the large light orb – the sun – had started breaking over the dirt-line in the distance.

It didn't seem unreasonable then that no matter how much I looked or where my gaze fell upon, I never found the creature. Regardless of my paranoia, things were quiet – calm. I could feel my shoulders relax and my breath slip out, as if I'd unconsciously held it in since I first ran back here. A faint smile, whether cast from relief or some other emotion, spread delicately across my lips.

And just like that, I heaved the contents within my stomach up. The ruthlessly crawling contents slinging themselves free as if a dam had burst. Again and again. Until finally I had nothing left to give. A shudder rippled through my entire being and I slumped to the flooring, concentrating on my breathing. Wiping off the mess left around my mouth on my sleeve, I crawled back to my feet and scanned the distance once more.

Nothing.

Eventually, and I don't know how much more time passed before it happened, a shout echoed through the camp and reached my ears. Slowly, I made for the edge of the platform and saw the others were up and about, likely looking for me. A few seconds passed and I held the nearly empty vodka bottle I had left up here, took a few swigs, and then smashed the empty container against the edge of the hardwood flooring.

The sound of glass shattering reverberated through the camp and drew the attention of the others, I gave a small wave and set down the ladder. As I reached the dirt below, now riddled with bits of glass, I could hear footfalls coming up from behind. I eased and put my rifle away, and turned to greet the others. I didn't spot Blake or Addison, but that was okay. I motioned forward and the other two led the way to the others.

When we regrouped, I gave the other two a small wave, and Addison a small smile. She didn't notice. Kyle moved ahead and stretched his arms, "Say, how are you feeling? My leg is fine now, for the most part, but you were in a far worse state than I was," he regarded me with a gentle voice, one that held his worry in open air.

I put a finger to my chin as I looked up. How was I doing? Frankly, I thought I had felt the same as always; head a little lighter due to the drink, but otherwise...

I returned my gaze back toward him and gave a curt nod, then flexed my petite frame and made a few mock jabs. Before posing triumphantly with a smirk. Then pointing at Blake and Addison and cocking my head, and giving a quizzical look. They looked to one another and Addison spoke for the both of them, "We're good."

Hmm. Was I missing something? Maybe I shouldn't think about that too hard.

As I stared at the pair, I noticed something in Addison's hand, a small slip of paper. I straightened my head, as it seemed to have tilted into view on its own, and pointed at the paper and held out my hand. Moments later, she reluctantly gave me the paper, "I can't imagine what you'd want with that, it shouldn't be that important."

Her tone suggested as much, but I noticed something in her eyes and gave it a once-over; small rips, furred edges from where it'd once been torn, and a strange discoloration. A few stains, I dared not guess the origins of. Written in worn writing was just a single word followed by a couple letters. I scratched my head and handed it back to her, she accepted it hastily.

It wouldn't do to stay here much longer, who knows if these raiders had friends; I certainly didn't want to be here to find out. Checking my Pip-Boy's map feature, I noticed a new marker having shown up. When I tried checking it out, it didn't carry a name. Perhaps I need to get closer for it to name the place?

Only one way to find out.

I quickly jotted down in my book and showed the others: My Pip-Boy marked a location, but it doesn't have a name – I think we should chackcheck it out. I then stared, unblinkingly at them until they came up with a response. "I don't see an issue with it," Kyle stated. Not that his opinion for destination matters all that much, but I'm glad he was on-board.

"Whatever you'd like," Anton replied – his opinion was the same.

Blake hummed a response, but I couldn't really tell if it was an affirmative or rejection. Addison gave the deciding declaration, "I think that's fine, if it isn't too far out of the way." I held up one of my old pages: It isn't. "Let's go, then," she smiled, giving off a radiance of calm.

I nodded and looked away, attempting not to get blinded by the illusory light emanating from Addison – which was all likely in my head. At that, I made for my final checks before leaving; making sure I had all my things, weapons were loaded and in easy access, and that my food wasn't gonna get smashed. Once set, I headed for the camp's entrance. No creepy crawling creature in sight, too.

After a few moments, the others began to shuffle in, and I could tell they were set. A few tired expressions here and there, but otherwise we were all rested up. Honestly, though, I think I felt better before we came to this camp. There's just something about getting stabbed with stimpacks multiple times to heal innumerable bullet holes that just leaves a girl wanting an improvement. Perhaps I shouldn't let myself snap out of it again; calm and steady wins the race.

I stretched when the last person arrived, secured my bag, and then motioned for them to follow and led the way. Not far out, I managed to find a few stray Bloatflies and shot them down, looting them as a matter of course. Odd looks aside, I focused on heading toward the marker on my map. The others remained quiet, but I think that had to do with them being on alert. I couldn't blame them, we didn't know what was out there. Either way, I turned my full attention to the path ahead.

I don't know exactly how long we walked, but when I checked my Pip-Boy, I saw that the marker had been updated. The location had been set. It was now named. I motioned for the others and gave them this message: It should be around here, look for something called a 'Radio Station'. As Blake, Addison, and Anton all nodded and began combing the area, Kyle stood with me.

He wouldn't know what a radio station was either. I could take a guess, but it wouldn't help me know what one looked like. Though, perhaps just finding the only standing structure might work? I wrote as much to Kyle, and we set to find any building still upright.

I was surprised, then, to find not one, but twelve structures. Most in a state of disrepair. Large boulders jutted from the soil, remnants of trees strewn about, and rubble scattered as it liked. Many of the buildings rose one story, but two stood taller – and many more had collapsed roofs or walls. Beside one, rose a large bowl-like object.

As I gawked at the place (I'd later learn is called a hamlet), a familiar voice called to me, "The building with the dish is the radio station, it seems we found it." I gave a quick nod and made off for the structure, passing Anton on the way, and, with Kyle, they filed in behind me.

My Pip-Boy marked the place as 'Even-Republic Radio Station', but the sign, etched in dull letters above the front door (which was cracked open), read 've-pbi dio ti'. The walls were reinforced with a rustic metal, one which I couldn't have named if I tried. There were a few hollowed holes where windows once laid, glass stuck out from the ground close to the holes – shards half buried, as if they'd been there for a long time. What I had thought to be a separate thing, was actually attached to the eastern wall – that radio dish-thing.

I wrote to the others that they could do what they wanted, as I made my way inside. The flooring was rough, broken and aged. The walls were much like the exterior, but less weathered. Numerous objects lined the wall, many box shapes, but a fair amount of shelves ran along the wall, too. Many of the things that were once on the shelves had fallen to the floor as the supports running up and down the boxes had snapped and fallen down.

From deeper inside, I could hear the faint crackle of static, I held my rifle close and began to move closer. Yet, I was drawn by the voice of frustration coming from the opposite side of the building. I held my shoulders high and set for the source. As I neared, I found Addison scrunched over a large terminal, which had been inlaid into a wall. She was reading through the contents of the screen, apparently gleaming favorable information as she carried a satisfied expression.

I watched her read for a short while, she never seemed to notice me there. Eventually, though, I quietly turned on my heels and left. I let my feet carry me through the corridors until I neared a studio of some sort. Control panels covered the walls, and equipment of some sort was strewn hazardously about; yet sitting on one of the desks was an object covered in dust. Stepping over, I picked it up and blew the mess that had covered the thing. It was a large, flat black disk, which carried grooves all the way around and had a small hole in the center. I remembered seeing something like it in my mother's room, it was called a vinyl record.

My mother...

I slumped to the floor as I continued staring at the record, my shoulders heavy and my breaths became ragged. Even as my vision became hazy, I clutched the record and held it close for comfort. Why does my chest feel so tight?

I didn't know how much time had passed, but eventually I rose to my feet, wiped my face, and placed the record under my arm. My feet carried me on auto-pilot through the halls, past broken, dirtied rooms until I arrived back outside. There I was greeted by a large creature, a man, and two women.

I looked the creature over and found myself baffled. It was unlike anything I'd seen before. I mean, two heads? It was a bit taller than myself, but I wasn't scared of it.

The women wore matching armor, but one held an assault rifle whilst the other a laser rifle. The man carried himself in a classy suit of some kind, and I couldn't see any immediate weapon on him. His face was scruffy and pointed, his eyes round, and a pair of wide-framed glasses which lacked the lens sat comfortably on his nose. As I looked him over, he regarded me, "Ah, Miss Vault Dweller, I didn't mean to startle. I run a caravan, you see, we didn't expect to meet anyone here. Of course, you're still free to make any trades you wish."

I blinked twice, thrice and then cocked my head. What did he mean by a caravan? In one swift motion, I pulled my bag off and put the record inside while also picking my book free. I opened it to one of the first few pages and showed it toward the man before me, it read: Can you read?

He made a little 'hmm' sound as he sized me up, before finally speaking, "That I can, Miss Vault Dweller." He stroked his scruff and made a 'hum' noise, "Perhaps... you can't speak?" I blinked twice, then nodded simply. "Ah, I see, I see. Yes, I understand." He motioned to the other two, and they seemed to relax a little; but I could still see them watching and listening intently for anything amiss, and not just from me.

I flipped through my book, speed reading the content, but didn't find what I'd have liked. After a few moments on a fresh page, I held the book for him to read. You mentioned that this was a caravan, does that mean there are others? Also, you spoked about trading; how does that work?

The man pushed up his lens-less glasses, "I see, you must still be pretty new to this... Wasteland. Allow me to explain: caravans are generally small groups out here, lest we draw attention to ourselves from raiders or any other upstarts. So, no, there aren't any others with us. I hope that doesn't disappoint, Miss," he slowly draws the corners of his lips up. "As for your other question, trading is done through the accepted tenure here in the Wasteland: bottle caps. Items are given monetary value, and so long as I don't get cheated, things are all good."

That was a bit more information than I had expected, but I certainly didn't find it unwelcomed. It was good to learn. Honestly, I felt a little upset that no one had told me sooner. But wait... what was that one part? Bottle caps were the money? How many of those had I passed off? And now I'm learning I should have kept them.

I must have spaced off for too long, because the scruffy man looked worried as he asked, "Is everything well, Miss Vault Dweller?"

After a few moments, I gave a soft nod and wrote down some more. How would the trading be done? He began to grin as he read, "Well, Miss, I carry goodies that you could buy or trade for; or you could sell some things to me, and in return I'd offer bottle caps with equal worth to whatever you sell me."

"It's all very clean, I assure you," his voice carried confidence in spades, which sponged at my apprehension, like fire taking to wood. He clapped his hands together, "Right, shall we get started?"

I held up my book: I'd like to sell first. And began to pull a few things out, the man's bodyguards watched my actions with heightened intent. After a short while, I'd set a few things down next to me and swung my bag back on as I returned my focus to the man before me. He seemed to ponder for a brief moment before smiling to himself, "Shall I take a look to determine the prices?"

I couldn't help feeling like I might be walking into a trap, but relented my nod of consent regardless. He sauntered over and carefully picked up each of the three items, giving each a discerning eye, before placing it down and moving to the next. After roughly four minutes, he nodded to himself, "I can give you one hundred twenty-one caps for these three items, Miss Vault Dweller."

At my skeptical expression, he explained, "The knife is in a state of disrepair, I can only give one cap for it; and honestly, that's more than it'd be worth in that state. The 10mm pistol, however, is in a decent state, so I can give you twenty-six caps. Lastly, this Chinese assault rifle is also in a decent state, and it suffices to a total of ninety-four caps. Ninety-four, one, and twenty-six added together equals one hundred twenty-one."

Could that have been a fair price? I wished I had some way of knowing. I didn't need those things anymore, perhaps this would be a good test for future trades. With my mind made up, I wrote to him: Saunds good.

He collected the three items and carried them over to the two-headed beast, setting them beside it, and reaching into one of the bags and pulled something out. He hefted it in his hand and it jangled with each motion. He then tossed it my way as he began placing the weapons into different spots on the creature. It landed with a dull 'thud' in front of me, and I picked the thing up. It was a tie-string bag, and inside were a bunch of bottle caps. Dropping it into my bag, my Pip-Boy notified me that '125 Bottle Caps' had been added.

Was he mistaken? He gave me extra. Do I say anything about it though?

As if noticing my mulling, he answered, "Consider it a first-time transaction bonus. A gift, from me to you, as a thank you and incentive to continue working with me."

May I see what you sell?

"Yes. Yes, of course, Miss Vault Dweller," I couldn't see his face as he answered, as he had only taken a second to check on me when he read what I wrote, but I could hear the smile in his voice when he replied. Pulling a strap taut, he reached into a different bag and retrieved a clipboard, before making his way back to me, "Here are my things, let me know if you'd like to see anything in particular."

I scanned the list, and while I wasn't certain what everything was, I quickly noted a few. Writing down what I wanted, I showed him my list; One frag mine, two irradiated waters, and all your microfusion cells. If I have enough after that, the rest in stimpacks.

He put a palm to his chin and began to rub, then adjusted his frameless glasses, "With those first three items, you won't be able to afford any stimpacks. Is that alright with you, Miss?" I immediately nodded, "Wonderful! I'll grab the items!"

Just like that, he was back at the beast digging around for the specific items I had requested. After half a minute, he returned with most of the things and set them on the ground, before grabbing the rest – his armed guards watching to make sure I didn't touch the supplies he had left. Once he had the last things, he was back before me and smiling, "To save confusion, I'll give the price of each item, instead of merely the total."

He cleared his throat with a 'hurumph' before listing out the goods, "One frag mine comes out to thirty-six caps, two irradiated waters come out to thirty caps, fifteen each, and eight microfusion cells come out to thirty caps, four caps each. All together, that comes out to ninety-eight bottle caps, if that is alright with you, Miss Vault Dweller?"

I sat down, reached to the tie-string cap pouch, and counted out twenty-seven caps, dumped the rest in my lap, and then replaced the twenty-seven. Securing the pouch back into my bag, I looked between the caps and the scruffy man before me. I couldn't be certain I'm getting anywhere remotely close to a good deal, but I thrust my hand forward – signifying my consent for the trade.

A scant few seconds later and the items had been traded between us. I quickly secured the goods and stretched. Just then, the creaky door to the radio station slowly yawned open and a set of footfalls patted out. "Oh, a caravan. How quaint."

Before I could turn to greet Anton, whose voice I could easily recognize at this point, the bodyguard's weapons were raised and pointed at my travel companion. Even the lens-less glasses were affixed on the man behind me. I couldn't hide my confusion at the expression held mutually across all their faces: worry. I glanced back.

Despite having weapons pointed at him, Anton was relaxed, his face carried a carefree smile, and he all but ignored them, "Miss Muna, it would appear that poor, poor Kyle got into a scuffle with Blake, perhaps you should check it out." His smile stayed as he turned his attention to the two bodyguards, "I kindly," his voice dripped with a sense of venom, "ask that you lower those guns. And you, Caravan Meister," his voice sounded a little irritated, but otherwise much closer to his normal tone, "do I get a name before we do business together?"

I heard an audible gulp, as one of the bodyguards lowered her weapon, and the other reluctantly lowered her own. They both looked to the scruffy man for what they should do next, apprehension clear in their faces. He took a deep breath before letting out an equally deep sigh, "Yes, of course, Anton Kares, my name is Ross R. Rosewell," Ross straightened his posture, "It's a pleasure to officially meet your acquaintance."

I could feel a faint hostility in the air, but couldn't determine the origin. All I could tell, though, was that I had to get out of here, and fast. I scribbled in my book and showed it to Anton, then Ross: I'm heading back inside. Don't kill each other...

Anton's smile grew, it almost seemed like it carried some strange under-shadow, "Right, be safe, Miss Muna."

Ross, meanwhile, carried a hard expression that was tough to actually grasp, "Mister Kares, how may I help you today?" His attention was now wholly on Anton.

Like that, I made my way inside the building once more, the conversation between the pair growing fainter as I made my way deeper inside.

-Transmission in Progress: Please Stand By-