“What are you writing?” Maybelle wonders while Matt stands next to the back window of the car.

“I’m leaving a message that it works. That way if anyone needs a car, they’ll know this one works. Although the gas is low, so they might need to siphon,” Matt murmurs and adds LOW GAS to his message. He caps the pen when he’s done and puts it in his backpack. “Everyone have everything?”

They all nod.

“Great. Let’s go. I want to get to the wall before it gets dark,” Matt says and walks into the fray of broken down cars.

Maybelle and Ekua follow and Edison takes up the back, keeping watch.

The cars seem to go on forever, like a deterrent. Matt follows a green spray painted line on the asphalt. The line works around the cars in an almost specific way and Matt never strays from it. For a while, no one asks about it. When they come across a few different colors, though, Maybelle speaks up.

“What’s with the lines?”

“Different paths to different places,” Matt answers.

“Different places?” Ekua inquires and Edison looks at her curiously.

Matt nods.

“Are the colors specific?” Maybelle wonders.

“Yeah. This green one takes us right to the gate.”

“Where does the purple one go?”

“Underground, I think.”

“Underground?”

“Mhm.”

“What about the red one?”

“I dunno. That one’s new.”

Maybelle tilts her head and stops asking, sticking her hands in her pockets. She looks around at the different colored lines as they pass. The purple one disappears after a few more sightings, as does the red. A yellow line breaks away from the green one, leading up a wood and metal ramp as they get closer to the gates. Maybelle wants to ask where it goes, but the quiet is a nice touch to the group.

When they come up to the doorway of the district, a couple burly guards nod to them politely. Maybelle nods back when Matt doesn’t. Past the gate, they look around at the built up district.

It’s a fortress. There are different levels, all the way to the top of the wall, with ramps and bridges and metal railings all around that connect everything. The ground level seems to be mostly trade and supply shops, bleeding up to the second level, which appears to be recreation and entertainment. The third level is mostly residential. The top of the wall and last level is scattered homes and temporary residential buildings.

Car parts and scraps from the Outlands make up the buildings, all around. Some places look like they could be from the old world, but most of them have been modified and scavenged for materials until all that’s left are structures in which tradesmen and merchants make their offers.

Matt leads the group up to the second level, where they find a biggish building with a roof made from the hoods of several cars. Inside is warm. A hazy layer of light from a few hanging lamps illuminates several tables and booths, and the counter that wraps all the way around a center beam that’s decorated with shelves that hold bottles and cans.

“You guys go find a table,” Matt suggests.

“What are you gonna do?” Ekua asks as Edison and Maybelle walk to a booth.

“Gonna try and find a room.”

Ekua nods and follows Edison and Maybelle while Matt walks up to the counter.

“Welcome back to Burnsley,” greets the pot bellied man behind, who has big arms and no hair.

“Thanks. You know if Roomies has anything available?” matt asks.

“Straight to the point as always. It’s why I like you,” the man says and shrugs. “I dunno. You’d have to ask Calvin. Look for the pink door.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Matt walks over to the booth his group is in. “We gotta go up to Four.”

They follow him out the door. A few people nods greetings to them as they pass. Edison doesn’t respond. Maybelle clings to her brother, keeping her head high and her stride confident. Ekua is more social than either of them and Matt just focuses on where he’s going.

When they get up to the fourth level, Matt finds a small house with a pink door. A tall trans woman with short brown hair and dark skin opens the door and a puff of smoke precedes her face as she takes a homemade cigarette from her lips.

“Matt,” she greets, holding out her hand.

“Calvin,” he purrs, shaking her hand.

“What can I do for you?” Calvin asks and lifts her cigarette back to her lips.

“We need a room.”

“All four of you?”

Matt nods.

“What’ve you got to trade?” Calvin wonders, smoke leaking from between her lips as she speaks.

Maybelle stares at her face for too long and blushes when her gaze is noticed, averting it as her face darkened.

“Not much.” Matt starts to take his backpack off but Calvin stops him.

“Don’t worry, Matt. I’ll just have y’all help me clean up here and there,” Calvin decides.

“Are you sure?”

Calvin nods and steps back inside to tap the ash off the end of her cigarette. She grabs a jacket and shuts the door behind her.

“C’mon,” she urges around her cigarette as she pulls the jacket on.

They don’t have to follow her far before she stops in front of a pale gray and white door, gesturing to it unceremoniously.

“It’s not that big, so you guys are gonna have to share your space,” she warns.

Matt glances at the others, who shrug, and nods. “That’s fine.”

“It’s yours then.”

“For how long?” Matt wonders.

“As long as you keep cleaning up for me,” she chuckles and starts back toward her pink door. “I’ll see you guys around.”

Maybelle blushes again when her eye catches Calvin’s as she passes. Calvin slows to keep the contact and lifts a section of the vodka lightened tips against her fingers.

“Cute hair.”

“Th-th-thanks,” Maybelle stutters, face beet red.

Calvin flashes a smile, then walks away. Maybelle watches her go before following Edison inside the small space they’d gotten.

It’s open with a small kitchenette on one side and a closed off bathroom in the back. There doesn’t seem to be separate bedrooms, so they set up their sleeping areas in the open space.

Matt sets out his sleeping roll along the wall nearest to the door, with his head closer to the door and his feet in the corner. Ekua sets up against the bathroom wall with her head in the corner and her feet in the open. Maybelle lays her stuff along the far right wall with her head near Ekua’s and her feet near Matt’s. Edison settles along the floor next to Maybelle, head by Matt’s and feet by Ekua’s.

“I’m going to find some supplies,” Matt says.

“Can I come?” Edison asks.

Matt shrugs. “Sure.”

“Get some food if you can,” Ekua requests as Edison gets to his feet. “I’m going to make the last of what we have.”

Matt nods. “We’ll be back soon.”

Edison shuts the door and follows Matt along the ramps and bridges.

“Do you know how the bartering system works?” Matt asks.

“It’s the same as the Outlands, isn’t it?” Edison says.

Matt shrugs unconvincingly. “Kinda, but it can be a little different in a district. Most districts will trade both goods and currency. Here in Burnsley, they like to trade for either goods or service. So, you could either trade something of equal value to what you want, or you could work off what they think it equals.”

“Like cleaning for Calvin,” Edison guesses.

“Exactly. Everyone wants something different, though, so be careful. I always prefer trading actual things, which is why I always carry my backpack.” Matt nudges the pack and Edison looks at his own bag.

“I don’t have much to trade,” Edison admits.

“That’s okay. People in Burnsley are usually pretty chill with outsiders,” Matt says.

Edison nods slowly as he follows Matt into a shop. There’s stuff all over the walls and shelves line what little space there is. An old looking man sits on a big, flat cushion near the back of the shop and waves when Matt and Edison enter. Edison waves back nervously Matt walks right up to him.

“Hello there,” the old man greets cheerfully.

“Hi,” Matt replies as he slides his backpack off his shoulders. “How’s business?”

“About to be a lot better, I hope,” the old man teases.

Matt smiles. “I hope so too. Mind if I leave this here while I take a look?”

The man shakes his head and Matt drops his backpack into the bucket by the wall. Matt nods for Edison to follow him.

“What kind of stuff do you need?”

Edison shrugs, leaving his bag with Matt’s. “Um, I don’t know. I usually just...go with whatever I find.”

Matt glances at him. “I suppose if you see anything you could use…”

He waves and Edison nods in agreement.

They wander around the shelves. Matt picks up a screwdriver, half a roll of brightly colored duct tape, some screws, a hammer, a box of dental floss, and a big pot that he held all the small stuff in. Edison found a pair of shoes that didn’t match in anything but size, a ball cap, another hammer, and a leather belt.

“You good?” Matt asked as they rounded back to the man.

Edison nods, so they sit down in front of the man and set their findings on the floor.

Matt looks through his backpack and takes out a big plastic bag of what looks like plastic forks and spoons, a wrench, and a pair of too small shoes. “Will this cover it?”

The man looks at what Matt was offering, then glances at Edison. “Have you got anything to offer, boy?”

Edison looks through his bag. He takes out some handmade patches, a couple bungee cords, and a small pocket knife. He starts to take out a small ball of rubber bands, but Matt pushes it back into the bag.

“This should be enough, right?” Matt asks when Edison set his options down.

“I’d like something a little bigger for the pot, if you can swing it,” the man insists.

Matt looks through his backpack again.

“I can fix your cushion,” Edison offers, noticing how torn and flat it is.

The man sits up slightly and Matt glances at Edison.

“Fix it how?” the man inquires.

“Fill the plastic bag with sand and stuff it inside the cushion. I’ll patch the seams too,” Edison says.

The man nods. “That sounds good. But your friend stays here until you’re done gathering the sand.”

Matt agrees. He empties the plastic utensils into a small pot, then hands the bag over. Edison leaves the shop without a word and slips out just past the gate. He fills the bag with fine sand from the ground around the wall into the plastic bag, making sure it’s all clean. As he walks back to the shop, he presses the sand around so it softens.

The man sits on the ground while Edison works on the cushion. He shifts the cotton fluff to the top layer of the cushion and puts the sand bag below. Then, using a bone needle and pale green thread, he sews up the seams. When the man sits down on the improved cushion, he nods approvingly.

“This is good. You two can take what you’ve found,” he decides.

They gather up their things and put what won’t fit in their bags into Matt’s pot as they leave.

“That was genius with the cushion,” Matt praises once they’re on the ramp.

Edison smiles and shrugs.

“Where’d you even come up with the sand idea?” Matt wonders.

“Sand beds. I made them as a kid,” Edison replies.

“That’s super smart,” Matt murmurs.

“Thanks,” Edison hums. “Where are we going?”

“Ekua needs more food stuff, so we’ll look for that.”

They walk up to the second level, where they find a food shop with lots of fresh squirrels, some rabbits, and jars of mixed, pickles, and preserved fruits and vegetables.

Matt had to trade away his old world police helmet and the hammer he’d just gotten for a squirrel and two jars; one of carrots, potatoes, and broccoli, and one of strawberries, blueberries, grapes, and cranberries. Edison traded the folded up blanket from his bag and a pair of thick socks for a jar of peach slices, orange and grapefruit pieces, and cherries, another small jar of olives and peas, and half of a watermelon

“Wow, dude. Yot way more than you gave,” Matt snorts when they leave the shop.

Edison shrugs. “The blanket was warm.”

“You didn’t have to give it up.”

Edison shrugs dismissively.

They walk back up to the room on the fourth level. Ekua is making the last of the stew while Maybelle patches up one of her shirts. Matt set the squirrel -which had already been skinned of course- on the counter near the wood stove and dumped the contents of the pot on his bed roll before trotting over to show it to Ekua.

“Holy crap!” she barks when she sees it. “Dude, we could feed the whole neighborhood with that!”

“I know! That’s what I was thinking, actually. You could open a tavern if you really wanted to with the way you cook,” Matt tells her.

“I guess.”

“Or at least work for one. You’d get free meals that way,” Matt suggests as he leans against the counter.

“That is true. I’ll go see how the restaurant on Two is. If I could get us free meals, that’d be one less thing to worry about,” she said.

Matt nods in agreement and looks at Edison and Maybelle, who are going over the stuff he’d gotten.

“What are you going to do with the belt?” Maybelle wonders after he gives her the shoes and the jar of olives and peas.

“I’ll wear it until I need to fix my bag,” Edison replies, clipping the belt around his waist.

“What all did you get, anyway?” Matt asks curiously, sitting on his own bed roll next to Edison’s.

“Enough to get by,” Edison says as he puts the hammer on his bag.

Matt nods slowly. “I noticed you have rubber bands. Would you be interested in trading?”

Edison looks up as Matt lifts up the dental floss.

“How many do you need?”

Matt shrugs. “I dunno. But it’d be nice to have some.”

Edison gets the ball from his bag and takes off a decent handful, handing them over. “Thank you for helping us.”

“A-are you sure?” Matt stutters, taking the offer.

“Mhm.” Edison nods as he puts the ball back in his bag.

“Cool. Thanks,” Matt murmurs and puts the bands in one of his backpack pockets.

“Food’s ready,” Ekua announces.

They all sit on the tile floor in the kitchen to eat. Edison finishes first and cuts up the watermelon he’d gotten so they can all share. It’s dark out when everyone’s done. Matt and Maybelle lay down first, so Edison helps Ekua clean up.

“It’s nice to have an actual kitchen to work in,” Ekua comments quietly.

Edison purrs.

Ekua lays down when they’re done in the kitchen and Edison sits on his sleeping bag, watching Maybelle.

“You should get some sleep soon,” Ekua insists as she rolls onto her side to face the wall.

“I will,” he promises.

Ekua hums, then goes quiet.

Edison lays on his back and stares at the ceiling. It’s been so long since he last had a ceiling to stare at instead of stars and he still can’t tell which he prefers.