“...massive displacement. Unknown weather phenomena. Stay indoors...”
I look around for someone who works here but the place seems deserted. "Hello! Is anyone here? My friend and I need to buy some supplies. We're not stealing!" I call out and wait a few seconds but nobody answers.
"Brannick, I think you may be intimidating the locals," I say jokingly, sort of.
"It is only natural that they would be in awe of me," he says, totally serious.
I give up and start loading up on essentials like canned chili, a loaf of bread, peanut butter, trail mix, painkillers, and what little first aid supplies they have on the shelf.
I turn and find Brannick at a small row of grocery carts, eyeing them like they’re haunted.
“You want me to ride in one of those metal cages?”
“It’s a cart.”
“It squeaks like it’s dying,” he tells me in disgust as he pushes one back and forth.
“They’re not to ride in. You use it to carry the food you want to buy while you shop. Here, carry this.” I toss him a bag of jerky.
He catches it, sniffs, and blinks. “This smells like salted sin. I love it.”
He goes to the shelf I got it from and starts grabbing as many bags of it as his huge mitts can hold. I move on to get water and some energy drinks. When I have everything I need to last me until I get home, I turn to go to the counter to pay and stumble to a stop, choking on my laughter.
Brannick is sitting on the dirty tile of the floor surrounded by packages of beef jerky but what has me laughing is the bottle of ketchup he’s holding over his head, squeezing a steady stream into his mouth. When the bottle is empty, he tosses it to the side and grabs another. I laugh even harder as he swears and struggles to peel the little plastic seal off the top. He glares at me and thrusts the bottle towards me.
“Help me unleash the nectar of the Gods in this bottle. I need more of it. Your puny fingers will work better for this!"
I’m still laughing as I take it from him and peel back the seal. When I cap it and hand it back, I warn him, “Careful with that. It’s full of sugar and I doubt you’re used to that much processed food. Your body might not take well to it.”
He scoffs at me and proceeds to squirt more into his mouth. I shake my head at his antics and dump all my stuff onto the checkout counter. With no one around, I reach over and snag a few bags to pack everything up and take a few over to the wolf who’s now clutching all his jerky and three more bottles ofketchup. I leave cash on the counter and hope it gets to whoever owns the place. Before we leave the store, I grab a couple of cigarette lighters and flip on the gas pump out front. I noticed when we drove up that there was a dusty display of red gas cans and oil bottles against the outside wall by the door.
Outside, I fill up the tank on the 4-wheeler and strap two full gas cans to the rack on the back. There’s one of those hand-painted tourist maps on the wall on the other side of the door and I take a minute to look it over to figure out exactly where the hell we are. There’s no scale to give me any kind of distance idea, but I’m guessing we’re two to three hours drive north west of Edmonton. I look over at the 4-wheeler and add a few more hours to that based on its top speed. Fuck, I need to get a car or truck somehow. With a last look at the tourist map, I see a campground not far out of town in the direction I need to go and decide that’s where I’ll spend the night.
I turn to let Bannick know and just have to shake my head when I see him by the gas pump with a window washing squeegee in his hands. He’s humming happily as he uses the sponge side to wash his chest and back. I open my mouth to tell him that washer fluid probably isn’t the best thing to wash skin with and just shake my head and let it go.
Instead, I pull a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and hand them to him to dry off. We head down the road and don't see a soul all the way to the campground where I want to stop.
The fire crackles low between us in the campsite fire pit. Sparks drift upward into the darkness before being swallowed by shadows. The warmth does little to cut the evening chill, but I don’t mind. It’s calming somehow, despite being consumed by thoughts of worry for Luna and the others. I want to keep moving, but I know being on the ATV at night isn't the best idea, and I do need to rest.
Brannick stretches out beside the flames, arms behind his head, feet kicked up on a log like he owns the whole forest, a pile of empty beef jerky bags surrounding him. He looks... relaxed. How does he do that in a strange world, far from home? What does he think? 'Oh my, I've just travelled through the veil to an alternate Earth and found humans. It must be Tuesday. I shall relax by the fire and have a nap.' His golden hair glows in the firelight and even though he looks relaxed and his eyes are closed, I feel like he is alert to everything around him.
I poke the fire with a stick, watching the embers pop.
“You sulk loudly,” Brannick tells me without opening his eyes.
I grunt. “I didn’t know sulking had a volume.”
“It does, and yours is deafening.”
I chuckle despite myself, then fall quiet again. He waits, patient as stone, until he decides to push. Eventually, he cracks an eye and fixes me with a knowing look. “Something’s gnawing at you, Stoneheart. Speak it.”
I lean back on my elbows, staring up at the fractured moon. Its jagged surface looks like it could crack further any minute and split the sky in half.
“I’m worried about my girl,” I admit softly.
Brannick sits up a little, his attention sharpening. “Your mate?”
I blink. “She’s not... no, not like that. We’re not together. Just... close.”
