Something reeks. Revenge for yesterday. I quickly get off the bedroll, Grand .50 in hand, and look around. Nothing got inside the interior outpost building, I would be dead already if it had. I maneuver around the house interior as quietly as I can with this massive rifle pointed in front of me. Don't see shit outside... but I know that stench. I risk a step outside and edge towards the sandbags near the main gate.
I step back with a lurch as I hear the sound of a beartrap snapping on flesh and barely manage to avoid two massive claws that shoot out at me from beyond the barricades. I respond to the deathclaw with a bullet right between its milky eyes. Don't realize until after it's dead that I'm bleeding. So much for peace.