Zero:
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
You watch for several more minutes but nothing seems to change, the gully is motionless except for the small wolf-like creature snuffling about.
The girl is still dazed and out, leaning up against the rocks.
Flies still buzz about the bodies.
The small fuzzy ball of fur suddenly stops burying it's snout in the ground and cranes it's neck back, sniffing the air. It's head snaps in your direction and it softly pads over, tail wagging as it sits just outside the container, looking at you with it's head cocked to the side.
Rip:
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
"Me to, pal," Becky shrugs at your first comment, "Would mean the world wasn't in the shit state it is today."
The light from Becky's lantern leads you on, deeper under ground. After a short while the walls stop looking like natural rock and take on a smooth, nearly circular appearance and you realize you must be in part of the cylinder that's buried under the wastes. Becky forces open and rusted door that shrieks in agony as rusted metal grinds against itself and leads you inside a small chamber. At the front of the chamber you see a busted up dashboard, the gauges and switches either smashed or faded beyond recognition. There are several tattered chairs bolted to the floor of the room, the fabric covering tattered to the point of non-existence.
A sleeping roll lies in the centre of the room beside a travelling pack common among wastelanders.
Becky sets down the lantern and pries open a hatch on the ceiling, tearing wires from connections inside. Once she thinks she has enough she uses them to bind the cult leader more thoroughly, tying her hands to the ceiling.
"The buyer should be meeting us here in by nightfall," Becky sighs as she slumps into a chair, a cloud of dust shooting out from around her, "Why, got something on your mind?"
Hazard:
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
Continuing your search you find a few ears of corn that haven't been burnt or trampled.
2 Days Rations added
As you methodically plod through the fields you come across a bullet riddled wreck, bogged deep in the mud, the wreck's paint job clearly states it used to belong to the Chrome Hounds. Flies buzz about the bits of bodies still inside the cabin and looks like any parts of value have already been stripped or scrapped from it. In the refuse tossed from the rig you find several fliers for Brutha Luv's Brothel.
As you start back towards the main buildings again, the mud shifts beneath your feet again and you tumble into the drainage ditch again. Cursing your new endowment for altering your centre of balance, you're just starting to wipe the mud off when you see something that brings a tear to your eye. The old battered still must have been one of the farmer's pride and joy, tucked away safe in a little alcove behind some weeds in the drainage ditch. Pulling aside the weeds you see there are two large jugs of clear moonshine tucked behind the copper still.