The next morning, word about his upcoming exile had already made the rounds. When Marcus tried to seek out Claire to say goodbye, her father told her that Claire did not want to see him.
“Can you at least tell her I stopped by?”
“...will do. You take care out there, okay boy?”
Marcus nodded, giving the man his best smile, even though he felt very unsure about himself right now. Was he really doing the right thing? He only had rations for one week and only for one person. Sure, there were wild plants growing near the bunker, but Marcus had no idea whether it was actually edible. And even if it was, there was no water source anywhere near the bunker. If he really returned to Ede’s bunker, it might well be the last trip he’d ever make. The bunker would be his grave, unless Ede had some bright idea on how to solve the food and water problem.

While still mulling over where he could get additional supplies, Gary put his heavy hand on Marcus’ shoulder, “You know, sometimes us scavengers are stranded out in the wild, far away from home. In such circumstances, we are taught to try to find running water, because where there’s water, there’s life. And where there’s life, there’s food to be found. We do not drink from rivers directly though, but instead we use that little pot on your backpack to cook the water before filling it into the bottle for later use. At least one minute, but better make it five. And if the water’s not bubbling violently, it’s not boiling.”
Marcus looked up at the far taller man, who stared out into the distance, seemingly talking to nobody in particular. He nodded and expressed his thanks.
“Huh? What’cha thanking me for? I’m just here to kick your sorry butt out. And don’t you dare come back crying, you here?! ...watch your back out there, kid. We’ve already lost way too many people to that god-forsaken world.”

And with a final shove outside the bunker door, Marcus was exiled, the door demonstratively shutting behind him. The gesture might have been far more dramatic, if he wasn’t still smack dab in the middle of the settlements perimeter, the farmers on duty greeting Marcus politely and friendly as he passed by. Only after passing through the actual front gate, he realized something important. He had not given him a weapon. With his rather sizable backpack, he was a walking target for anyone and anything that prowled the wild beyond the gate. But turning back to at least ask for a rifle was impossible. After all, he was now officially exiled. No longer a part of the settlement. He cursed at himself for not thinking about it earlier, but still started walking, determined to make it nevertheless. However now he needed to play it smarter than the last time, where he at least had the reassurance of being armed. After being out of sight from the settlement, he took inventory once more. He was pretty sure, that some of the items he found were not part of the standard equipment given to exiled people, temporary or not. At the very bottom of the backpack he was given, he found an old and well-read book. He recognized it without even looking at the title. It was ‘Journey to the center of the world’, written by a man called Jules Verne. He had read the book like a hundred times, telling Claire time and again what fantastic wonders the old world must have held and what a shame it was, that it had all been destroyed. Claire must have sneaked the book into his pack when nobody else was looking. Working in the gardens, she certainly would have had the chance to do it. He sat down on a fallen over tree trunk and opened the first page, his eyes getting stuck on a small paragraph in shaky letters that definitely wasn’t there before.

Dear Marcus,

I am afraid I will not be able to see you off properly.
I also do not know where your travels will take you or what wonders you hope to see.
But please remember, that wherever you may go and whatever hardships you may face, the settlement will always be your home.
Be safe.
Claire.

“Aww, isn’t that sweet,” Ede chimed from the back of Marcus’ mind.
“...shut up,” Marcus replied, sinking the book back into the pack.
“You’re really going to take it? It’s just dead weight, you know? Weren’t you just lamenting how you’ve got way too much useless stuff?”
But Marcus didn’t even listen. Sure, the book may have been little more than dead weight, the words within mere fabrications of a man who had lived in a somewhat intact world, where dreams were still a luxury you could afford. But the book and all those other items were put into his pack by people who cared about him. Just discarding them felt wrong.

After he pulled out the map and oriented himself, Ede asked, “So...what’s the story anyway? Why’d you never get with Claire?”
“Why is it so damn hard for you to just shut your trap?” Marcus asked back.
“Well, if you don’t want to talk, that’s fine too. I just figured I’d keep you a little company...cause, you know, I’m the only one you’ll be able to talk to for the coming month and all that.”
“Yeah, I really can’t believe my luck...and now shut the hell up, or else I’ll need to reconsider going back to that other half of yours.”
“Like you’d have anywhere else to go.”
“Oh, I don’t know, I think I overheard the scavengers talk about another settlement in the opposite direction, with whom they sometimes trade. Maybe they’d take me in.”
“And maybe there’s a hot air balloon waiting for you at the bottom of a volcano.”
“...you’ve read the book?”
Ede groaned and said, “Same person, remember? I know everything you know.”
“Then why ask me about Claire in the first place?”
“For someone as smart as you are, you certainly are remarkably dumb. Look, I know you know this, but I’ll say it anyway. By actually formulating your thoughts and feelings into words and sentences for someone else to hear, you process them on an entirely different level than if you’re just mulling over them by and for yourself.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I do know that. The issue is, that you’re in my frigging head!”
“Well, tell Ede about it then.”
“Why should Ede care about Claire?”
“Why should he care about you coming back at all? I mean, you have nothing to offer him but your company, after all.”
“...good point. And I guess there’s no point in asking you about that either, is there?”
“Nope, I have no idea. But you can ask him yourself soon. If you’d please take cover from the raider party up ahead, that is.”
Marcus looked up from his conversation with himself, as a group of raiders on horses approached rapidly, apparently chasing someone with a whole lot shouting and laughing. If not for the warning by his other self, he would have walked straight into them. He quickly hid behind some pieces of debris, praying that they would not go any father into his direction, when something clicked with him. He wasn’t that far from the settlement yet. And Raiders being nearby always meant trouble for the settlement. The kind of trouble that usually ended in bloodshed. And then there was that poor sap they were chasing for the sheer fun of it. He briefly closed his eyes, recounted his options and went through his inventory. Did he have anything on his person that could help in this situation? More laughter and a pained scream which was cut short with a loud Bang later, he knew that there really was nothing he could do. Even if he would have had a weapon, it was at least 5 armed men against one.
“Oy, what’cha doing Cal?” a male voice asked.
“Eh, y’know, the hunt was all fun and stuff, but I think I’ll be taking five to enjoy our prize.”
More laughter ensued, when one of them said, “I don’t know, Cal. We’re kinda close to that one bunker place Ma always tells us to stay clear off. She says, they still have guns.”
“Eh, you go on back to Ma if you’re a chicken, Sal. I’ma going ta enjoy my prize.”
“P-please don’t…” a whimpering voice pleaded.
Just then, a device on their belts crackled to life, “Where ta hell are ya, ye dimwits?! Get back here! Lunch’s getting cold!”
“...Ma’s calling. You coming, Cal?”
“I’ma be right there. Now, sweetie…”
“Yes, please...please don’t keep ‘Ma’ waiting…” Marcus muttered, peering over his hiding spot, as the raiders which all looked eerily similar discussed among each other on what to do, while Cal got busy enjoying himself with the wounded woman.
Just when he tried to pry her legs open, the radio crackled to life again, “I asked, where ta hell ya are, ye dimwits! Don’t make me come find ye!”
One of them, the one called ‘Sal’, explained, “We’ll be back in about 20, Ma.”
“Make that a 10 or else,” Ma responded abruptly, making a scared expression appear on the faces of the raiders.
“Cal, we need to move. Now.”
“Don’t be such a pussy, ya pussy!” Cal argued, still trying to get himself in.
“Eh, just leave him. I really don’t wanna keep Ma waiting.”
Everyone agreed, turned their horses and rode away.
Marcus tried to sneak away himself, when the woman spotted him and cried out to him, “Please, for the love of God, please save me!”
Cal turned around, spotted Marcus and reached for his rifle.
“Don’t you dare freeze on me now, you stupid idiot!” Ede yelled at Marcus as every muscle within him tensed up. If the guy shot at him, his comrades would here. They might think he finished off the woman with the first shot. But a second would undoubtedly make them come back. He picked up a nearby stone and flung it towards the raider, missing him by a good two meters.
“...seriously?” Cal asked, partially amused but mostly annoyed, whereas the woman merely facepalmed, muttering, “Oh, I’m screwed.”
Cal yanked up his gun and aimed at Marcus, who quickly dove behind the debris that had hidden him before. The gunshot tore the silence apart and pieces of concrete rained down on Marcus.
“Son of a…” Cal muttered and started going after him.
“You stay right there, Missy,” he cackled, “Ma will be delighted to have so many guests for dinner today. Probably won’t even scold me for being late.”
Marcus tried to get on his feet, but the sand beneath them was too slippery and he fell.
“You from that settlement? You never should’ve left,” Cal said, suddenly over him, his rifle now at point blank distance in front of his face.
However just as Marcus closed his eyes to not have to see the bullet coming, he heard a strange noise and felt something warm and wet spill on his face. He opened his eyes again and it took him a moment to realize what it was. The blood of the raider, a crossbow bolt sticking right through his chest. Cal garbled something incomprehensible before dropping his gun and then finally falling limp himself. He did not notice the wet patch between his own legs.