The inside of the building had two low wooden beds, which were both empty of any mattresses or other bedding materials, a basic table and two chairs, and nothing else.
“From the dust and dirt on the floor and table, I’d say this has been empty and unused a lot longer than the other two buildings,” Hallie said.
“The furniture is much better made than the bunk beds,” Girard added, crouching next to the nearest one to take a closer look. “It’s not great work, but more effort has gone into it.”
“And the floor and pipework look well constructed. It’s as if the foundations were done by someone else, then whoever was in here made the walls before they abandoned the space,” Hallie said, taking another look around, “and moved everything else out.” A chill worked its way along her spine. Despite the building being unfinished, and much of it poorly made, there was a quite different feel to this space than the larger buildings. Someone had planned for this space to be lived in. They’d planned for a private bathroom, and space for at least two bedrooms, from what she could tell. They might even have planned to build up the construction over time, improving it when they could.
She looked outside at the other crudely made buildings, all spaced at a careful distance apart, in their own patch of ground. As if they were the beginnings of something bigger. And she thought about the effort it would have taken to build the wall and ditch large enough to accommodate all these little houses and their individual plots of land. It would have been far more efficient and less labour-intensive to just build a wall and ditch around the two larger buildings, work shed, and possibly a bath house. But the settlers hadn’t wanted to do that. They’d wanted their own buildings, with enough space between them that theywould have some privacy, and perhaps individual gardens, when the construction was completed.
The chill spread across her body. “This was going to be someone’s home with its own garden. Whoever it was built foundations to last, and then abandoned it. I wonder why they left?”
“I can’t think of any good reasons,” Girard said. “But it looks like they took everything when they left. There are no possessions in here.”
“Took them with them to the bunk room?” Hallie speculated.
“Possibly,” Girard agreed.
They headed out into the overcast day again and moved on to the next building.
The other buildings were all more or less the same as the first abandoned house with the foundations being well-made and the rest being unfinished. The size and amount of furniture and quality of craftsmanship varied between the houses, but they were all the same basic design, and all just as empty and abandoned.
By silent, mutual agreement, when Hallie and Girard had finished looking through the last of the buildings, they turned and headed back to what Hallie was thinking of as the radio building. The static charge in the air had grown worse, so it felt like lightning was scattering over her skin, making her want to scratch and wriggle away from the sensation.
“At least we haven’t found any more bodies,” Hallie said, trying to find something positive in their efforts so far. “It doesn’t look like whoever was here died here. That’s something.”
“True. It does look like everyone just left. I think we’ll need to stop here for the night at least,” Girard said, with another glance up at the sky. “Normally we’d have another hour or two at least of daylight, but with this storm coming in, it’s going to get dark early.”
With the day darkening around them, Hallie remembered that if they’d still been back in Daydawn, she would have been looking forward to dinner with Girard. A chance to sit together and talk, perhaps more. They had far more privacy now than they would have done in any restaurant. In fact, it felt like they were the only people in the world just now. And yet, they were here to work. And something had happened to whoever had lived in this settlement. She needed to keep her focus on that. “Should we get the bags, then?” Hallie asked.
“Yes,” Girard agreed.
They turned and headed out of the settlement, back across the wooden plank with the grisly contents of the ditch smelling far worse to Hallie on this crossing. Perhaps the heavy air was stirring up the stench of burning.
It didn’t take long to get the backpacks. Even though she had been there when Girard had put them into the tree, Hallie knew it would have taken her most of the rest of the daylight to find the packs. But Girard went straight to them, and handed hers down first. She slid the shoulder straps back into place and took a moment to try to adjust the hip and chest straps to fit better. There was definitely a trick to having it fit comfortably that she wasn’t getting, as she could feel the weight of the pack digging into her hip. Much more walking and she would definitely have a bruise or two.
Still, she kept stride with Girard as he headed back towards the settlement. When they were a few paces away from the ditch, a diamond-bright, jagged line cut through the sky beyond the settlement, accompanied by a rolling, thunderous boom that shook the ground under Hallie’s feet.
She opened her mouth to say something, sight split into black and white and red in the aftermath of the lightning strike, and saw that Girard was looking behind them, not at where the lightning had been.
She turned, too, and stopped involuntarily. The ground behind them was trembling, still. She could feel vibrations through her boots. No, that wasn’t right. She blinked, trying to clear her sight, but what she was seeing didn’t make any sense. The ground was moving. Actually moving. There was what looked like a wave of dirt surging towards them.
Then Girard gripped her arm.
“Run.”
Chapter seven
Runningwithapackwas far worse than walking with it, but Hallie struggled on, grimly forcing her legs to move, to keep going, her one focus on reaching the walkway and the wall of the settlement. Girard kept pace with her, even though she was quite sure he could have gone faster.
They made it across the walkway and Girard bent down to the rope mechanism.
“Get hold of the gate and prepare to shut it,” he told her.
No time for questions. Breathing hard, Hallie grabbed hold of the wooden gate and watched while Girard pulled up the walkway, exposing the ditch. As soon as he’d tied off the rope, she slammed the gate shut, lifting the heavy wooden beam and setting it across the latch, securing the gate.
“Should we try and light the ditch?” she asked, looking at the crate, container and stick they’d inspected earlier.
“Yes,” Girard said. He was already moving, unscrewing the lid of the container and then shoving the fabric-wrapped end ofthe stick inside. Hallie picked up the lighter and held it ready as Girard climbed onto the crates. At his nod, she lit the fabric, stepping back hastily when the fuel caught fire, heat searing her face.
