Fallout 4: AR

61. Bug Bites

"Heads up, Boss," MacCready called from his temporary vantage point atop a small hillock. "There's something on the railroad tracks ahead, and it looks like it may be part of our missing Minutemen caravan."

I nodded, making my careful way up to join him. We had been traversing the woods east of the Mass Pike Interchange trying to find either the entrance to Vault 81, or the missing provisioners. It was a daunting task as the area was huge and only sparsely populated; good for keeping a low profile, but damn difficult to follow vague compass directions. "Somewhere south of here" from Sanctuary covered a lot of ground. MacCready was somewhat familiar with the area, back from when he briefly ran with the Gunner squad who had claimed the overpass as a base of operations- the same squad we eliminated months ago. He was keyed up and nervous about being back near the Interchange, but the camp had been empty, to our relief.

Wordlessly, MacCready handed me the scope. I swept the horizon, trying to locate the disturbance he had mentioned. After a few silent moments I spotted a scattered line of what looked like bundles of raw materials- cloth, planks of wood, scattered tools, what could be a discarded pile of steel scraps. The flotsam led out of sight to the south. No bodies littered the path of travel.

"Debris, but no obvious fight. Your thoughts?" I asked my companion, handing the scope back to him.

He shrugged, gaze focused on the distant tableau. "A spooked brahmin, maybe? They're pretty unflappable though, so we should be careful."

I checked my rifle to make sure the magazine was full before starting down the hill towards the rail line. "Let's go check it out. If the brahmin spooked, it could have injured the provisioner in its panic."

Up close, the materials refused to enlighten us any further. "Guess we'll have to follow the tracks," I shrugged, "we can try to let the nearest settlement know where this stuff is and hope the Minutemen get here before any scavengers do."

"Sure, Boss." MacCready was already following the trail. I trotted quickly to catch up, falling in next to him. "It's odd, though," he commented, in an almost normal manner. "Usually, the gear on a pack brahmin is tied so securely only the trader can loosen the knots. It prevents theft."

"Interesting..." I drawled thoughtfully. "You used to be a caravan guard, right? You'd know."

He nodded sharply, the brief moment of camaraderie fading when he strode ahead with determined steps. I sighed, shaking my head in frustrated melancholy, sinking into my own confused thoughts until I caught up with him again. This time, he had taken shelter behind a rusted-out train carriage that was tipped on its side, sniper at the ready, peering through the scope intently. Taking my own position next to him, I touched his shoulder and asked, "What is it?"

He lifted his head to peer at me with one blue eye. "There's a body on the road ahead. I can't make it out too well, but it appears to be moving? I think?" When I would have rushed forward, pulling a stimpak out of my cargo pocket, he grabbed my arm to hold me in place. "Whoa!" he said intensely. "Hold up! We don't know who or what that is."

My desire to help warred with MacCready's all-too-sensible warning. "People don't just decide to take a nap in the middle of the train tracks..."

"No," he cautioned, "but ferals do."

I peeked my head around the side of the rail car for a moment. Of course I can't see anything. MacCready is the champ of eyesight, after all. Crouching back down, I tried to reason with my bodyguard. "You said it was moving? Ferals don't move when they lie down, do they?"

"No." He shook his head, finally looking a little uncertain. "All right, Boss. We move out, but slowly and quietly. Keep your rifle up and be ready for a trap." He flicked the safety off his sniper and crept silently around the front of the car, making his steady way towards the body he had seen. I followed, keeping my own rifle ready, but pointed away from him. Safety first, I thought wryly, even when surrounded by a Wasteland trying to kill you.