It had been seven days since the Courier disappeared and Arcade woke up in the Old Morman fort. ED-E refused to come out of sleep mode, despondent. As Arcade was considering moving on she returned on a bright morning, disheveled and shell shocked, looking like she hadn’t slept in days. On her neck were harsh red lines, as if something had been fastened tight around it, and she was clutching a battered rifle.
“Seirra Madre” she muttered as the Follower Doctors carried her off, the name of the hell she had just escaped








