The Lone Wanderer lay on the ground, listening as the frantic ticking of her Geiger counter slowed and then stopped. She had thought that the lightning that she was seeing was just part of her ghoulification before certain death, but it appeared she had been wrong.
The ruins that she was lying in weren't the same ruins that she had fallen over it. For one thing, she could see the sky (well, the clouds), and she didn't remember it being that ominous shade of red before.
Sitting up, she spat out a gob of something disgusting, which bounced off a nearby tin, sending it clattering to the concrete. Nearly as soon as the echoes had faded, she was being challenged by someone.
The Lone Wanderer stood, absently wishing that she had fixed her laser pistol properly as she found a weapon pointed in her direction. Her railway rifle would take too long to bring up.