A summer camp lays before me, bustling with other survivors. Dozens of cabin buildings stand erected in a semi-circle surrounding a massive clearing where a huge old log-cabin sits. Off to the side stands a few greenhouses and a small field where a few people are tending to crops, though now they are mostly busy staring at my family and I as we are ushered through the gates. Behind the cabins lies the river that feeds the creek my family and I were previously camped out at, and lining the banks of the river are a few newer crudely built structures that resemble a sort of stable. As the gates close behind us, nearly everyone in the camp pauses in their daily activities to gawk at my family and I, hushed, worried whispers filling the awkward silence.
Most notably is an older gentleman with shaggy salt-and-pepper hair, squared shoulders, and a disgruntled tilt to his jaw that only seems to deepen as he approaches. “Who the Hell are they?” he demands, glaring heavily at me and my still-bloody face.
“Guests,” the young man replies as he attempts to steer us away from the angry old man, but the massive angry wall merely steps into the stranger’s path.
“Leon ain’t gonna like this,” the old man growls. “I sure as Hell don’t.”
The woman leading us scoffs. “Then it’s a good thing you're not the one in charge, isn’t it? How about instead of complaining, you take this deer and sack of meat to Butch, where you can tell him all about how much you don’t like it? We’re in a bit of a hurry.”
Grinning, the young man heaves the deer off my brother’s shoulders and plops it into the angry man’s arms, who sputters as he catches the hefty quarry.
“Yeah, and while we’re at it,” the young man grunts, giving a short whistle to a small group of onlookers who had been watching us with sour faces, “your buddies here can take their weapons to the armory until they’re ready to leave again.”
The older man blinks, his face reddening as two of his friends approach with confused looks. “Now hold on just a-”
“Sorry,” the woman interrupts, “but like I said, we’re in a hurry. I’ll let Leon know you took care of their gear.”
Not even giving the older man a chance to argue, the woman pushes my bow, quiver, and knife into the hands of one of the men they had called over while the young man deposits my sister's bat and brother's machete into the arms of another. Without another word, the woman pulls me after her as the young man gently nudges my brother to follow the conga-line of confusion towards the large log cabin in the center of camp.
As we approach, I hear someone from a group of campers mutter, “Who are they?”
“Surely not Widow’s,” another replies, crossing her arms. “Those two may be reckless, but they aren’t stupid.”
“Did you see the cut on that girl's head? It looked fresh, like Dani gave her one hell of a beating.”
A scoff answers, though the returning comment is lost in the sea of whispers that rise from the surrounding campers, most of whom are currently staring and pointing at us like some sort of parade through town.
‘So much for trying to look presentable…’
My siblings and I are ushered onto the porch of the log cabin, where two guards dressed in a mix of military and hunting gear greet us silently, one of which opens the door to allow us through.
The inside of the cabin has been stripped of what makes it homey, save for a lush couch set that sits around a heavy coffee table, the area occupied by a group of guards chatting tensely amongst one another.
“What do you think they’re up to?” I overhear one of them ask.
Another guard, more gristled than the younger two, replies with,“There’s no telling; Hughes says spotted their camp to the east, but he couldn’t make out how many of them there were.”
“That’s ominous,” a third shivers. “Do you think they found us?”
The first sighs, shaking his leg as he fiddles with his gloved hands. “If they did, wouldn’t they have attacked by now?”
The trio of guards go silent once they spot us entering, staring at me specifically, and I begin to wonder if my wounds have started bleeding again.
‘Are they hiding from the Widow’s here? That would explain the strangers' hostilities and the paranoia about checking over for marks.’
We’re led up a flight of stairs, and down a short hallway to a set of heavy double doors where the woman finally pauses, takes a deep breath, and knocks.
A deep resonating voice answers with, “Come in.”
The woman opens the door to a large study, where inside, a tall, muscular middle-aged man stands at a heavy oak desk that sits strewn with papers. Dressed in casual military fatigues, his dark eyebrows furrow at the map he’s leaned over before he finally sighs, bringing his attention to my family and the two strangers who brought us here. A deep, old scar marks his face, running from his chin up to the side of his nose, a chunk of his upper lip and right nostril missing from the wound. His wavy dark hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, and black circles mark the dark skin under his eyes.
“Danielle. Josh,” he greets the pair of them with a nod, his eyes trained on me. The strangers stand at attention on either side of my family and I, nodding in return. “I see you brought guests.”
“Sir,” the woman - Danielle, I guess - nods. “We found them camped out in the woods a mile west of us, where we found this one,” she gestures to me, “wandering the woods.”
Attempting not to roll my eyes merely results in me flicking my gaze briefly up at the ceiling, but the gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by the older man who I can only assume to be Leon.
“I also see that there was a scuffle between the two of you,” Leon eyes us, his gaze flicking between the cut on my face and the heavy bruising on Danielle’s nose. “Are they clean?”
“Yes, sir,” Danielle replies. “We checked this one in the woods before she ran off,” she gestures to me. “After following her back to a small campsite, we checked the other two before bringing them here.”
“Good,” Leon replies, standing up straight as he walks around the table to stand before us, leaning against the heavy desk and crossing his arms. “Now, explain these wounds to me, Danielle. Did she attack first?”
Danielle and Josh exchange nervous glances before Danielle sighs. “Technically, yes.”
Leon narrows his eyes at her and she flinches under his gaze. “They either did or they didn’t. There are no technicalities in a fight. What happened?” His cold dark eyes are trained on the tense girl. If she stood any stiffer, I could easily mistake her for a statue.
Danielle gulps before she speaks. “Josh and I were out on patrol this morning, as you ordered. We came across their camp in the woods early this morning, next to the creek, and noticed this one slipping away while the other two slept. We weren’t sure if they were Widow’s, so we followed her into the woods. We… stepped in when she started approaching our camp with her weapon drawn.
Barely containing a scoff, I mask it as a small sneeze, to which I gain the attention of Leon once more.
Leon raises his eyebrows at me expectantly.
I glance between him and the two who led us here, reminding myself over and over that if we want out of here quickly, we have to play nice, and I clear my throat.
“Sorry,” I start. “Allergies. What happened was that I was out hunting this morning, tracking a doe a few seasons old, and your man over here dropped from a tree and stole my breakfast.”
Octavia mutters, “Damn drop-bears…”
I continue. “Not long after that, the other one - Danielle, was it? - put a knife to my throat, demanding that I disarm.” Danielle stiffens at the sound of her name, her eyes trained on Leon, though her lip slightly curls at the adenium. “Seeing as how I was minding my own business and trying to provide for my family, I’m sure you can imagine what that looked like for me.”
“And where is the deer in question?” Leon asks.
“They gave it and a couple of squirrels I caught to some grumpy old man when we came in, and told him to hand it to some guy named Butch I think.”
He turns back to Danielle, who takes a sharp breath when he tilts his head at her expectantly.
Danielle, to her credit, looks guilty as she says, “I had asked her to drop her weapon since it was still aimed at Josh. Rather than listening, however, she chose violence.”
Jaw clenching, it takes everything in my power not to wring her neck where she stands for trying to downplay her role in all of this. Instead of acting on impulse, I take a breath as I watch Leon. “I’m sure if they had waited until after I shot the deer, they would have seen first-hand that I really was just out there hunting for breakfast.” I flick my gaze towards Danielle, who is giving me a side eye at this point. “I would have been much more willing to talk to you two if you had approached without the display of aggression.”
“You were armed and headed straight for our camp,” Danielle argues through gritted teeth. “We had to think about the safety of our people. There was no way for us to know for sure who you were.”
Leon clears his throat, the sound alone snapping Danielle back to attention with her back stiff as a board. “It sounds to me like this is simply a misunderstanding, then,” Leon states, turning to my siblings and I. “I apologize for Danielle and Josh’s rash behavior and for the distress they’ve caused, though I do hope you understand our position. Strangers in this area rarely mean well, and we must ensure the safety of our people to the best of our abilities. For now,” he stands up straight and walks back around his desk, sitting at the rolling chair and leaning back. “Danielle, take our guests here to the Shed and tend to their wounds. Come see me once you’re finished. Josh, you are to accompany her until further notice.”
Danielle gives a quiet affirmative as she nods to him, ushering us out of the office and back out into the hall while Josh simply nods, closing the door behind us with a resonating click.
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