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Lindsay eventually arrived with your free-meal. She was a young looking girl that must’ve been in her early teens still. She had dark brown eyes and choppy short hair that matched. Freckles speckled her narrow face, accompanying her small nose. You exchanged greetings with her, but before she could get away from you, you stopped and asked her what she knew about their unwelcome guest.

“Nothing really,” she told you. “I haven’t seen them and neither has anyone else here.”

“What is it then? A ghost?” You offered with a smile.

Lindsay smiled back, but shook her head. ”I have my suspicions.”

“Yeah?”

The girl shrugs, looking around to check for anyone else. She then leans in and whispers: “I think it’s someone who works here.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well,” she sighs. “To begin with, it’s because this place is so well-stocked. Sullivan keeps a tight stock of everything. Weapons, tools, food, you name it and he’s probably got dozens of it.”

“Why steal from the boss though?”

“Again, mister. He’s got so much of everything they probably doubted he’d notice.”

“But now that he has, why keep doing it?”

“Winter is rapidly approaching. They might even have a family they’re trying to get prepared.”

“Thanks, kid.” You take a bite out of the sandwich that she provided. “If there’s anything else, let me know.”

Lindsay gives you a subtle bow and steps away, back to where she came from. The contract didn’t ask you to kill anyone, but now it seems like you’re gonna have to be a lot more careful. Blowing the head off of one of Sullivan’s employees wouldn’t bode too well for your review. Whatever the case, you only had a few hours before your desired camping time. You take your food and your rifle as you step out and head towards the warehouses to get a better understanding of what you are really dealing with.

The warehouses were both locked up. There was one window for each of the buildings, near the main double doors. They didn’t open, and breaking it would cause a lot of unnecessary noises, for a cat burglar at least, and would alert their entire place of their entry. You try the door, but immediately find a hefty lock on it. Despite all the money and security, you find that the padlock is actually old and dated.

You grab the lock and look at it. You’re no lock-picking lawyer, but even you’d be able to get this open within a minute. Pit this against an expert, they’d get it pulled apart in half a second…

This would have to be corrected if Sullivan wanted to permanently fix this problem. You go to the other warehouse and find it to be identical, besides the lock being not just bigger, but also much newer. There must’ve been a reason why this one had the newer/better lock and the other one didn’t, but that wasn’t part of your contract. You’ll just focus on the lesser of the two. Until then, it was prep-time…

You trek back and relax in the lounge room. Watching the sunlight trickle out from not just the sky, but also the landscape beyond the glass barrier. You asked Sullivan what else he could offer about the intruder, but he didn’t really tell you anything new. You found Lindsay and asked her about the intruder too, but she didn’t really know what else to say either… what you do realize is that it’d be best to spend the night inside the warehouse that’s been (more than likely) picked at the most.

When darkness fell and the staff of the lodge started to turn in, Sullivan found you resting by the dwindling fireplace. He sat next to you and asked if he could do anything more. You looked at and shook your head, but then something came back to your memory.

“I meant to ask earlier, but it had left my mind. Why do you have one warehouse better protected than the other? Got some weird sex dungeon that you’re hiding?”

To your surprise, Sullivan becomes tickled by your comment and laughs. “Of course not! That warehouse has a tunnel that leads to the main building. I… I’ve been meaning to get the same lock for both buildings, but it just isn’t easy to good quality locks out here without searching for a decent trader.”

“Right,” his reasoning was solid enough, so you didn’t poke any further. “I’ll take some blankets and a pillow. I’ll be spending a night in the warehouse without the good lock. That ‘settle right with you?”

“I believe that’s for the best. Please don’t go unarmed.” He warns, fishing out the right key from a key ring.

“Wouldn’t need to tell me twice.”

The idea of being trapped inside of a tight building with someone that could be hostile made your stomach churn. So when you fingered through your bags and pulled out your handgun. You then cursed yourself for not bringing something more seated for a gunfight. Nonetheless, you stack what you have before embarking towards your room for the night.

You inserted the key and twisted the lock until it opened. You walked in and looked around - triggering the automatic lights to flash on. This was...exactly how you imagined the interior to look like, perhaps a touch cleaner. But we’re boxes everywhere, all closed and secured by their own latches. Solid enough - you can’t complain about it being disorganized or anything of the sort. You closed the door behind you and took a gander around. You suppose the weirdest thing was the fact that it was more like a barn - there were stairs that lead to a second level, but there was also a ladder that led directly up. You took the ladder.

On the second level, you found a cot, which would be your bed. Next to the cot were some magazines and books. It looked like someone was here, or at least had been here at one time or another. At the first glance you thought perhaps the intruder was poking fun at their real occupants, but as you got closer you realized it had been like this for a while. You didn’t notice it that well from the outside, but this was probably a guard station of some sort. It had a small slit window that gave you a good view of the entrance. The magazines were also dusty and left behind a faint print when they were moved.

You sat on the cot and exhaled. The sound of silence was incredible in here. You flipped through some of the pages of the magazines in hopes to find something to pass the time, but instead all you found were some old pins up pictures...they jogged the memories of Delilah.

You put away the magazine and huffed. Time to get comfortable. The inside was cold, so you kept your boots and coat on. You could feel the tip of your nose starting to numb, so you even put on a mask before going into the sheets. Great fucking choice. You mumbled, knowing that there was a lodge just a few yards away that was both heated and far more comfortable than the flat mattress you were laying on top of.

After some time of laying there, you stare at the metal ceiling. The sight carries you to sleep. For however long, you are sound asleep; which probably means you were only out for about an hour or two; all what you knew for sure is that the automatic lights were now off and there was a somewhat muffled sound coming from the ground floor.

You strained your ears and shut your eyes. It sounded like the lock was being played with. Either Sullivan was giving you a weird visit or the unwelcome guest of the lodge was making a return. It doesn't take too long for the lock to become undone. The lights taint the room with the same orange hue that you were used to before you fell asleep.

You remained still, even as you heard the door shutting. Below, you can hear the footsteps below. They are slow, soft and steady. You stir from the sheets and sit up. You look around and reach for the handle of your pistol before you start to stand. You advance to the edge, expecting to see someone husky and armed. Instead however, you see a girl. Dressed perfectly for the less-than inviting weather outside. Leather brown boots, a flight jacket, khaki colored pants. This...must’ve been someone from some kind of outfit, probably working outside of the line of duty. From this distance, you could tell that her hair was a nice shade of red? Perhaps the lights were making it seem more orange than it really was.

The longer you watched the girl, the more details you gathered. You weren’t sure how you missed it at first, but that was no ordinary human either...That was a mutant, or one the NSH creatures. Poor girl must’ve been introduced to radiation from a young age somehow. Protruding from her red/orange locks, two long hairs stuck out. You quickly gathered she might hear you moving around, so you froze where you stood and quietly hid behind a box on the second level. Behind cover, you poked your head out and showed a bushy tail, orange like her hair, but the tip was white.

The grip on your pistol tightened. You've heard some gnarly rumors about these people. You had dealt with a fair share of them before, but much like regular people, they tend to differ in other parts of the world. Japan had a generous population of these creatures, so did Germany and other places in Europe. Despite the United States and most of the other Americas being battered by nuclear warheads, they didn't get too many of their own breed. They were usually in the bigger cities however, and were used as either slaves or proper servants. What category did this "girl" land in?

Giving her a chance might give you more information about her story and where her masters are, but if she's trained as well as she looks, you might be signing your life away. You cup your weapon and point your thumbs forwards, directly the barrel of your pistol outward...She doesn't know it, but she's knocking on deaths door.