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Sitting out here in the bright, hot sun, and all I can think about is an ice-cold Nuka-Cola, it's pissing me off. For two days, we've been lost. We've gone out past the necessary pathway, and now we sit alone in a field of death. Why the hell are we out here? Who the hell knows? It's maddening, though.

We walked outside the Capital Wasteland. It wasn't my first trip outside the borders, and it certainly won't be the last, but what we found was pure insanity. Nothingness. For miles. No green, no house, no life. Hell would be the only word to describe it.

Is it news worthy? No. But it's a start. Call it a maintenence run. The signal works just fine out here, and we're moving. We just don't know where. But it's how has hell, and the water has been gone for some time. My associates tell me to head back, but I refuse. Why? Because there's supposed to be something out here. Something important. Unfortunately, I cannot trust even my own hand to place it down. The paper upon which this is placed I do not trust to stay silent.

I shall close my mouth for today, but I can see things in the distance. And the sand, I can see the footprints. They walk the same trail that we do. Are they trying to uncover it as well? If so, why? And, in the night, I see the eyes watching me sleep. Perhaps I'm going mad. Perhaps I'm thinking more clearly now than ever before. I suppose I must wait and see.

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