Maybe I started wondering that night.
Or maybe it was before that, on the very first day, when Stellan appeared at the Traveling Market three years ago, offering his skills as a mechanic with a severe frown on his pretty face.
When I asked why he wanted a spot in the Market, he said, “I want to protect what is mine.”
Predictably, I thought he meant the material things one needs for survival. Food, shelter, his vehicle… That he wanted aplace to call home where he could rest at night without one eye open. We all crave these things.
But once we made the deal, he disappeared into the wastelands and returned a few hours later with a younger man, sun-kissed and colorful: Perri.
I’d been brought to the Traveling Market as a child to be sold like a slave. Perri had been brought to be protected and cared for.
And he turned out to be a skilled hacker. I never regretted giving them a spot on the Market. Even today, after I witnessed two of my friends getting devoured by Scylla while in pursuit of Perri, I can’t find it in me to resent them.
And I share some of Stellan’s worries. I’ll breathe more easily when Perri is safely back by our side.
I spend a few hours enjoying the stars in the clear night sky as I keep watch, appreciating time away from the Traveling Market’s eternal buzzing.
I let Stellan sleep for longer than we agreed on—he needs the rest more than I do—and when it’s finally time to wake him up, I walk quietly to the back of the truck not to startle him. The door of the camper is wide open to let in the cool night air.
The small space is dark, but my eyes pick up on everything easily. There is a narrow kitchen corner and a shower stall barely wide enough for a grown man. And at the end, near the wall separating the space from the front of the truck, is my bed. Stellan has opened the sunroof and moonlight touches his sleeping face. In his slumber, he’s not scowling. He looks so different and soft. It’s a rare view, one usually only reserved for Perri.
He took his shirt off before falling asleep, certainly trying to escape the wastelands’ heat. This close to the water, it’s not aswarm as inland, but the humidity makes it harder to ignore. My blanket tangles around his waist.
“Stellan,” I say quietly.
He comes awake immediately, senses sharpened by a life spent surviving in the wastelands. His abs flex as he sits on the bed, naked chest caressed by moonlight.
“Yes,” he mumbles.
Then his hand trails over the empty bed at his side, looking for something among the sheets. My chest tightens painfully when I realize he’s looking for Perri.
His face shutters when he remembers our predicament and Perri’s absence. Gone is the softness of his slumber, and I regret waking him.
“Thank you. I’ll take over,” he says while putting his shirt back on. I regret waking him up even more as his carved muscles disappear from view.
Stellan gets out of the camper, and I have to resist touching him as he walks by, trailing his heady scent behind him.
The same scent welcomes me in the sheets as I get into bed. He has taken over my senses, and I can’t even be mad about it. It’s fucking intoxicating. I stare at the stars through the open sunroof, arousal coursing through my entire body, and pray that we find Perri before Stellan makes me lose my mind.
9
Grassland.
“This is certainly my last entry. I’m dying. I wasn’t careful and left the wound on my leg unattended. It’s festering, and my temperature hasn’t come down for a week now. I can barely move. I read about sepsis, and it doesn’t bode well for me. Helios is looking for antibiotics, but we went too far from civilization to escape our pursuers two weeks ago. Looters have emptied most houses around here. I don’t care what happens to me. To be honest, I’m tired. But what will become of my son after I’m gone? He’s still a child, one good at surviving, but a child nonetheless. Our new world is harsh. From old gods stomping on us at every occasion, survivors hunting us like prey… Hell, he could just fall into a crevasse and never see the light of day again. Is that how our species survived for millennia? How did we make it this far?”
Extract from a handwritten journal by Meredith Willis,October 2054.
PERRI
The first thing I notice when wake up is the motion. Is the Traveling Market already moving? But the room differs from our home, and I’m staring at the bottom of a bunk bed above my head. Memories reconnect my mind to reality. I’m in theBeetle, and it looks like we’re traveling. I sit up, my long hair tangled around my neck.
Last night, Griffin and Helios fed me a sandwich, and my shoulders drooped immediately. The events of the day had exhausted me, and I couldn’t hold my head up. They led me to a spare bedroom they used as storage, with four bunk beds, and I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
I wince as my feet touch the ground; the wound on my leg hurts. I still can’t believe a crossbow bolt hit me.
I walk to the round window offering a view of the outside and gasp when I realize we’re traveling over green grassland and hills.
“We left the desert,” I say out loud.
