He brought all of them out of the third room earlier. I thought he wanted to sort out a few things. I get a hold of one and follow him through the night.
As we come out, we’re welcomed by a dozen people holding torches and lamps. I’m ready to bolt at any moment, but Griffin looks at ease, even though his hood is up. Behind them, I can see log cabins under the trees.
“Griffin!” says an older lady. “We didn’t expect you back so soon.” She has a long gray braid and a crooked smile.
“Yeah, I changed course,” he simply says, giving the crates to two young men. A third one tries to take mine, and it takes me a few seconds to let go. “I still have a lot of good stuff for you.”
“That makes me more than happy,” she replies. “And you arrived just in time for the feast.”
Griffin tenses. “Is it Sunday?”
She laughs. “It is!” He looks less than happy about it. “Don’t be a grump! It’ll be good for you to mingle. They all love you. And your friend here can do with a little food.” Her eyes linger on me for a moment too long. She looks surprised that I’m here.
But she had me at the wordfeast, even though I’m still confused as hell.
We carry the rest of the crates outside—no one even tries to get into theBeetle—then follow them into the village. I couldn’t stop myself from looking into the crates. They contained batteries, nails, tools, electronic devices and parts, and even toothbrushes.
“What’s this place?” I ask Griffin.
“Sarah was a ranger in Yellowstone before the Rise,” he says. “She stayed and survived. And over the years, more people joined her community, and they are now a hundred or so, scattered around the lake.”
“And you trade with them.”
He nods. “I grab everything that can be of use to them during my travels. Sometimes they ask for specific stuff. And in exchange, they give me food. In the summer months, they grow a few crops.”
“What about the Roc?” I ask.
How can they live here, happily? I thought it was dangerous territory.
“They have an agreement with her. Tomorrow, you’ll see.”
I open my mouth to argue, but Griffin is already being led away by the villagers. How can someone have an agreement with a bird the size of a plane?
A few tables are set around fires in the center of the small village. Food is already being served. The villagers welcome Griffin with big smiles, but they keep their distance. It’s written all over him that he will bite if you come too close.
“Sorry,” he whispers as I stand beside him. “I didn’t realize it was Sunday. I thought we could just drop the things and go.”
“I mean, the food looks amazing,” I say. “I’m not complaining.”
There is what looks like roasted chicken and deer, potatoes, corn, stew, bread… I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much food in one place. No wonder Griffin’s fridge is that full if he trades with communities like this one. Those are the thriving communities I only hear about in rumors. They are little havens that they rightly keep secret.
A few people come over to talk to me and offer me food. I try everything good-heartedly, even though there is no reason for them to feed me. Griffin is the one who trades with them. I did nothing. The man himself stands ramrod-straight near a fire, talking quietly with the old lady, Sarah. I venture to them with my plate, wondering if they will stop their discussion because I’m here. They don’t.
“They’re taking them all south,” says Sarah as I join them.
“What’s south?” asks Griffin.
“The biggest buyer. Arkam buys most of the slaves. They’re building an underground city in the mountains.”
I’ve met a few travelers and merchants who have been to Arkam. It’s a growing community in California. Bunch of nut jobs, apparently.
Griffin scoffs. “People have tried this before; it’s a bad idea.”
“They say that they found a place where no gods wander. Fools, if you ask me. If there’s a place where no gods go, there’s a reason why. They like to conquer, so something is stopping them.”
“Where exactly?” he asks quietly.
“The Sierra Nevada, that’s all I know,” she says.
