The snow crunches under our feet as we walk along the shore, up a steep dune, and into the forest. Tree roots jut out from the frozen ground causing me to stumble a few times. We walk for about an hour, our hands and feet frozen. Cass finds a spot with little snow due to the thick canopy above. Naomi gathers firewood, while Jagger and Quin set up a makeshift shelter with the blankets. Naomi uses a short blast from the Beta gun to get a fire going once the wood is set for burning. We all sit as close to the fire as possible, freezing from the dropping temperature.
Jagger opens one of the sealed packages of dried meat then passes it around for all of us to take some.
The meat is soft and salty. Cass opens a bottle with some red wine inside and we all drink from it. I sit with my knees up to my chin, rocking slightly in the cold breeze. Quin sits down next to me, puts an arm around me, and pulls me close. As I stare at the flames, I remember the bar code in my wrist. I reach into my satchel, extract a small carving knife I’d grabbed from the bedchamber, make a small incision in my wrist, and pull out the coiled wire. Quin takes the blade from my hand and does the same.
Jagger is too restless to stay in one spot.
He advises us that he is going to go explore the woods to see if he can find us better shelter. I offer to go along, but he declines and we watch as he disappears into the brush. Cass and Naomi cling tightly to each other, trying to ward off the cold that is quickly enveloping us.
Jagger returns almost an hour later and motions for us to follow.
Naomi and I grab the satchels of food and take down the blankets while Cass and Quin carry the weapons container.
Several miles from where we stopped is a clearing with two long wooden structures, their roofs sagging from age. A circular stone building sits in the center with a cement house just a few feet away. Small lights attached outside each door on the wooden structures give off a soft glow no more than a few feet. Snow covers much of the ground, and continues to fall. I hear low mewing and clucking noises coming from the northern end of the encampment, so I follow them and come upon a fenced-in yard where several chickens are pecking away at the snow. I can make out another building in the distance where the mewing is emanating from.
“Hello,” Cass calls out before we can stop him.
His voice doesn’t travel far, muffled by the mounds of snow. We stand still, waiting for any sign of movement.
“There has to be someone living here,” Jagger says. “The livestock appear well fed and the lights are still working.”
“There are only a few of us left,” a small voice says behind me. A small old woman carries a lantern making her way out of the animal paddock, a shawl clenched tightly under her chin, an empty pail at her side. “You all look frozen. Come on let’s get you warmed up.” She walks past me towards the stone building.
A fire is burning hot in the hearth in the center of the large single room. Crates sit stacked ceiling high against a far wall, barrels of grain next to them. A worn cot rests cozily next to the hearth. Cass and Jagger take down a few of the crates for us to sit on. The woman puts a kettle on a hook and swings it onto the fire, warming up the liquid inside. She fetches tin cups for each of us and pours the hot fluid into them. My hands warm instantly from the heat, but I take small sips so as not to burn my throat.
“What is this place?” Naomi asks, sipping from her cup.
“Siedler Village,” the woman says, as she sits down on her cot, throwing the blanket over her lap.
Her face crinkles from a smile. Her long gray hair is matted in spots and it looks like she hasn’t bathed in weeks, but her clothes appear to be nicely kept, no holes or tears.
“How many people live here?” Naomi asks.
“Well besides myself there is Henry, Magda, and Andrew. So only four, no more, no less,” she says with a smile, displaying only a handful of teeth.
“There’s a power plant a few miles south of here, right?” I ask, without thinking about it.
The woman looks startled at my remark, but she recovers quickly.
“Yes, there is. How do you know about it?”
“I remember…my mother working there when I was little.”
The words are out before I grasp what I’m saying.
“That’s not possible, dear. No children have ever lived in this village.” The woman refills our cups and settles herself back down onto her cot.
Uneasiness settles around me.
The woman is lying, but why? And how do I know it?
I set my cup down onto the bricks of the hearth, as no amount of heat from the tea is going to warm my insides.
“Would it be possible if we could stay the night?” Jagger asks, diverting everyone from the change in my demeanor.
“Of course, the people of Siedler are always very hospitable.”
She picks up the lantern by her feet and walks us back outside, showing us to one of the small houses, insisting we can stay in there for the night. There are three bedrooms and plenty of heat as the furnace is working. We say our thank yous, closing the door behind us.
The living room is sparsely furnished, with only one badly moth eaten couch sitting on top of a braided rug in front of a dingy fireplace. The kitchen is separated by only a half wall.
