Ch: 10 [Loots]

"Oh, come on, you gotta come up with something new. Feeding your family, you say... Why don't you show me their photos? As a family man, you must be carrying their photo, right?" I asked with a smirk.

The scavenger's eyes dart around nervously, and he stammers, "I... I don't have any photos with me right now. They're back at the camp."

I raise an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by his response. "Oh, really? And you expect me to believe that?"

"I swear, man, it's the truth! Please, just spare me and let me go back to my family," he pleads, his voice trembling.

I keep a close eye on the scavenger's hand as it moves toward his right leg. I tighten my grip on the gun, ready to react if he tries anything suspicious.

"Don't try anything foolish," I warn him, "Keep your hands where I can see them."

The scavenger's hand freezes mid-motion, and he looks up at me with fear in his eyes. "I-I'm not trying anything, I swear! I was just... adjusting my pants."

"Adjust this," I shot his brains out.

The scavenger falls backward, lifeless. I quickly checked his leg. A small handgun was strapped to his leg. I checked the magazine and found it still loaded.

I picked up the handgun, looking it over. It was a hand-crafted model, clearly handmade. The handle was made out of bone and decorated with scrap metal. A piece of cloth was tied around the handle and made a poor grip. It had seen many years of use.

I looked at the scavenger's face again.

I observed his lifeless expression and bloody face. While I had no qualms about defending myself and eliminating a threat, taking a life was never an easy decision. The scavenger's desperate attempt to survive was just not enough. I won this battle of survival. It's a kill or be killed kinda world. There is no need for emotions or sadness, no second guessing, just survival.

Well, let's see what you got, big boss.

Humm...  Other than the handmade handgun, a custom-made shotgun, an ammo bag, and a pouch of caps. Oh, what's this? A map!

I open the map, my curiosity piqued. The map appears to be hand-drawn, indicating various locations in the wasteland, including settlements, abandoned buildings, their main camp, and potential danger zones.

"Nice, at least you weren't a waste," I said to the dead scavenger.

As I study the map, I notice a circled location not too far from my current position. The label next to it reads "Hidden Stash." This piques my interest even further. It could be a potential cache of valuable supplies or resources.

Nice, it's not far from here. I will check this hidden stash out and use whatever you have hidden there. Thank you, man. Even in death, you helped me out. I wonder what else your minions got in their bodies.

Carefully searching through the bodies of the fallen scavengers, I find a few more useful items. The scavenger with the machete had a worn-out leather pouch that contained a handful of bottle caps, some food rations, and a small medkit. It's a decent find, and I add the supplies to my backpack.

Another scavenger had a rusted and damaged combat knife, which I decide not to take, as my own military knife is in better condition. I also find a half-broken pair of binoculars and a tattered map of the surrounding area.

The scavenger with the giant club didn't have much on him, just a few bottle caps and a half-empty bottle of water. I took the caps and left the rest.

Moving on to the other two scavengers, I find a few more caps, some ammunition for their weapons, and a small bag of dried food. The final scavenger had a homemade crossbow, which I decide to take, as it could be a useful silent weapon for long-range attacks.

I proceed to the circled location on the map, eager to discover what the hidden stash holds. With the scavengers' belongings safely stowed away in my backpack, I make my way towards the designated spot, keeping my guard up for any potential dangers along the way.

As I approach the location, I carefully survey the area for any signs of traps or potential ambushes. The wasteland is a treacherous place, and I can't afford to be careless.

It's an old gas station.

The old gas station stands as a relic of the pre-war world, its exterior worn and weathered by the passage of time. The pumps are long dried up and rusted, their once-bright colors faded into a dull and dusty hue. Broken windows and peeling paint further add to the station's dilapidated appearance.

The area around the gas station is relatively open, with patches of overgrown weeds and scraggly bushes dotting the landscape. The ground is cracked and dry, bearing the marks of the harsh wasteland environment. The air carries a faint scent of gasoline and decay, a reminder of the station's former purpose and the current state of the world.

As I cautiously approach the old gas station, my eyes sweep the surroundings for any signs of danger. The rustling of the wind through the weeds and the distant howling of the wasteland creatures are the only sounds that break the eerie silence.

The old cars stand like silent sentinels, reminders of the past era's automotive prowess.

With my hand on the grip of my handgun, I inch closer to the gas station, keeping my footsteps light and my senses alert. The hidden stash could be anywhere, so I need to be thorough in my search.

I opened the rusty door slowly, only to be greeted by a trip wire. Let's disarm it carefully.

Carefully, I reach out and disarm the tripwire, making sure not to set off any potential traps. With the immediate danger neutralized, I proceed cautiously into the gas station, keeping my eyes peeled for any further traps or hidden dangers.

The interior is in a state of disarray, with debris and broken shelves scattered about. The smell of dust and decay fills the air, making it difficult to discern any signs of recent activity.

I begin my search for the hidden stash, meticulously inspecting every nook and cranny of the gas station. Behind a toppled shelf, I find a hidden compartment in the floor. It appears to be well-crafted and expertly concealed.

As I open the compartment, I'm met with an array of valuable supplies. Bottles of purified water, canned food, ammunition, and even a couple of stimpacks are among the items tucked away in the hidden stash. It's a small treasure trove of resources that will undoubtedly aid in my journey through the wasteland.

I load up my backpack with the newfound supplies, ensuring that I have enough to sustain myself for the days ahead. The extra ammunition is a particularly welcome addition to my arsenal, and the stimpacks will be invaluable in case of injuries or emergencies.

"Oh, what's this?" My eyes fell on another map. It's old and soggy.

As I inspect the second map, I notice a single marked location with the label "Abandoned Vault." The vault is way too far away from my location. Maybe I will check it out later. I opened my Pip-Boy and marked the location on the digital map.

After that, I made my way toward New Haven.