Okay, here is the first chapter of A Warm Place 3! You can read the first two chapters if you are a 1$/month or higher Patron on Patreon here!
I had seen destruction before.
Burned down buildings, collapsed buildings, places that had been shot up.
But I don’t think I’d ever, in real life, seen so much destruction.
The rise in the land we had come out of the forest onto dipped gradually towards a frozen river maybe half a mile away, and the township of Pine Lake lay maybe another half mile beyond that. The incline continued until about the river, where it leveled out with the rest of the ground the town was built onto, so we had a decent view as we hurried through the snow. And I kind of wish we didn’t have a decent view.
It was making me a little sick with worry and anxiety.
There had probably been about eighty to a hundred structures grouped together in the town proper, and the fire had destroyed or seriously damaged damn near all of them. From what I could tell, the only part of the town that still showed any activity was an untouched section of ten or so buildings closest to us, set slightly apart from the rest of the settlement. There were twin rows of structures situated along a stretch of road that was probably intended to be the city’s primary entrance or main street.
I saw people moving among the buildings, but not as many as I would have liked to see.
“What do you think happened?” Megan asked as we hurried along. We’d slowed after five or so minutes, as it was obvious that whatever had happened was already over with and although people likely needed help, it probably wouldn’t make that much of a difference if we arrived there a few minutes early. That and a mile through snow and cold wasn’t something you could just marathon your way through, at least not quickly.
Plus we had Elizabeth to think about.
So we settled into a slower but steadier pace.
“Either some kind of accident, maybe a generator or a fire got out of control, or some dipshit with a cigarette did the wrong thing in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or they’ve got an arsonist problem. Or there was an attack that got way out of control,” I replied.
“God I’m almost hoping Lindsay didn’t come here,” Delilah muttered.
“We’ll find her,” I promised, “one way or another.”
“Yeah,” Delilah replied quietly, and said no more.
We reached the river not much later. It wasn’t a massive river, I was glad to see, and it looked pretty frozen solid. We took the time to move a little ways to the left, where it narrowed to maybe six feet across and looked pretty firm, and then walked over one by one. No one fell and the ice didn’t shift or crack even a little, so lucky break there. I always hated walking on ice. Even when it looked three feet thick, I was still paranoid that it would give way beneath me. I hadn’t taken a plunge so far, but there was a first time for everything.
I tried to get a sense of what was happening and found myself wishing for binoculars. People weren’t running around, I could tell that much, but they were moving with purpose, it seemed. I heard some sounds come echoing out: voices, hammering. It was hard to tell if there was anything happening in the dark mass of burned buildings beyond because so many of them were still smoking, but I didn’t think there were any active fires left.
Hopefully not, anyway.
My mind began running through a list of things that were likely going to have to be taken care of, or at least checked on. Ninety percent of their town had just burned down, and while there was certainly the possibility that either some stores of supplies had survived in the burned out parts, or that they had stashed a healthy cache elsewhere in the region, or they’d lucked out and one of the buildings that had survived intact had been a massive cache of food or medicine, I figured they would need help anyway.
Good settlements had systems in place, but no system, no matter how good or how quality the backup might be, needed some amount of help when some huge wrench got thrown in the gears like this. This was a full-blown disaster.
Then again, depending on how many people had died in the fire, their new population might also reflect their new levels of supplies.
Dark, but it would take a lot of the pressure off, potentially.
I was still thinking about this when the people actually seemed to take notice of us and began reacting. I was in the process of preparing what I was going to say to them once we got close enough when, abruptly, one of them raced to the edge of the town and opened fire on us with a pistol. Delilah shouted and dropped to the ground. Megan went down on one knee immediately, grabbing for her rifle. I stepped in front of Elizabeth.
“STOP! WE’VE GOT A PREGNANT WOMAN!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. We were lucky: sound carried pretty well here, and we had managed to get close enough that they heard us. It was the first thing that popped into my head and apparently it worked, because the shooting stopped right away.
A few other people approached the one with the gun and they began to talk, though I couldn’t make out a word.
“Megan, relax,” I said. She had the rifle out and shouldered.
“If they feel like turning hostile-” she began.
“Then we’re probably fucked,” I replied. “There’s no cover out here. Maybe we might be able to do something, but I’d rather not start shooting what are probably innocent people who are dealing with the aftermath of a disaster that probably killed most of their population.”
She sighed and lowered the rifle. “Fine.”
I offered Delilah a helping hand. She looked a little embarrassed as she got up out of the snow, brushing it from her clothes, but if Elizabeth hadn’t been with us, I’d’ve been joining her in diving. In a way, I was a little surprised, (though not unpleasantly), to discover that my natural instinct was to step in front of her and try to shield her with my own body.
The little conference seemed to end and one of the people, a blonde woman, I thought, it was hard to tell at this distance, separated from the group, stepping closer to us.
“What do you want!?” she called. Yes, definitely a woman.
“We’re looking for someone!” I replied after a moment, deciding honesty was going to be the best policy for now. “And we need a place to stay.”
A pause. “I’m sorry, but unless you’ve got an amazing trade, we can’t afford to take on any more people!”
“We’ve got a lot of guns and bullets to trade!” I shouted back.
Because hey, we did.
Another pause. The woman turned around, talked with the other three or four people gathered there in a loose knot for about a minute, and then turned back.
“Fine! Come over here to me! Nice and easy! Then we can talk!”
“On our way!” I said. As we started walking, I talked to the others. “No sudden moves, and keep your hands away from your guns. They’re obviously jumpy, and I’d say from their reaction that either this was done to them on purpose or they suspect it was. Outsiders suddenly showing up likely won’t be viewed as good, at least at first. Even with the guns to trade we’ll probably be operating from a weak position, so don’t get pissy.” I paused. “Got it, Megan?”
“Yes,” she growled. “I’m not stupid.”
“I know you aren’t stupid, it’s just that you’re-”
“Emotional. Yeah. I get it. Don’t worry, I’m not going to fuck this up,” she replied, and she sounded calmer, at least. So that was good.
Probably reminding herself that most of their friends and family had just been set on fire probably the previous night.
The whole ‘someone else has it worse’ argument tends to be pretty hit or miss with a lot of people, honestly miss with most people from what I’ve seen, but when a horrific example of that argument is dead on front and center for you, it works a lot better.
Pain has a way of motivating people and tragedy has a way of humbling them.
As we crossed the final distance of snow between us and them, I knew for sure that I was going to offer my help. I mean, unless it turned out they were total assholes or something. If anyone needed help, then fuck, it was these people.
I could tell that even as we finished drawing closer. There were five of them standing in a little group, and more people had stopped, strung out along the road behind them, looking at us. They all looked tired, haunted, and grim. Most of their faces were marred with either ash and soot or dried blood.
The woman who had spoken, who I could tell right away was their leader, pale, blonde, and not much bigger than Delilah, stared hard at us. Maybe five and a half feet, not petite but she seemed slim under her heavy brown coat and dirty gray snow pants. She had a revolver in her hand and the way she held it, the stance she had, told me she knew how to use it quite well.
“Okay, that’s close enough,” she said when we were about five yards out. She regarded us each one after another with tired brown eyes. “I’m coming over,” she said after a minute, holstering the pistol, “try anything and my people will shoot you dead.”
“Understood,” I replied simply.
That seemed to surprise her, just a little. She turned around and hesitated. “Get back to work!” she yelled at the dozen or so people scattered about the street.
Oh yeah, she was in charge.
She had that voice.
That ‘pay the fuck attention to me and do what I say right goddamn now’ voice.
She walked over to us and three of the people slipped pistols from their holsters, not actively aiming at us, but clearly ready to draw and fire, pregnant woman or no. Fair enough, I supposed, but it did make me quite nervous.
She stopped maybe two yards out and up close, I could tell two things right away: she was mature, both physically and in her authoritative air, and she was very attractive. She reminded me of Hazel.
“First, show me what we’re talking about here. We’re not looking for fucking pea shooters. We need actual guns,” she said.
“Okay,” I replied, and carefully got out of my backpack, then motioned for Megan to do the same. We put our packs down in the snow and unzipped them. I pulled out five pistols, all gotten from the assholes who’d tried to kill us before the blizzard, and showed each to the woman.
“Four nine millimeters and a thirty-eight. All presently unloaded. We’d have to formally go through it all, which I’d like to do in a better environment, but I’d say there’s enough for two full loads for each pistol.”
“What about one of those rifles?” she asked.
“I’m afraid they’re non-negotiable, but we are willing to work with you, and Megan and I here are very good shots,” I replied.
The woman considered that for a moment, staring at us hard, probably trying to figure out if we were full of shit or not.
Her eyes cut to Elizabeth, then down to her belly.
“I hate to ask but...can you show me your stomach? I’ve had people try to bullshit me before about pregnancy, they think it’s a sympathy ace to play,” she said, sounding honestly apologetic.
Elizabeth looked at me. I shrugged my shoulders, indicating it was her call.
“Fine,” she said. She unzipped her coat, then lifted her shirt and undershirt, exposing her pale, rounded belly. “Satisfied?”
“Yes, I’m sorry,” the woman replied.
Elizabeth quickly bundled back up.
The woman’s expression hardened again after a few seconds as she looked at me. Great. “I’ll take these five guns and one full load for each as an entrance fee to consider further trading.”
“Wait, let me get this straight,” Megan said, and I tensed. “You want five guns and all those bullets just to consider allowing us the pleasure of trying to trade with you?”
“Yes. Take it or leave it,” the woman replied bluntly.
“We’ll take it,” I replied.
“Fine.” She turned and gestured at the group standing guard. Two broke away and began walking over. “Get the ammo out, once we have it collected it up, you can walk with me to the gas station over there and we can negotiate further.”
“All right,” I replied.
She frowned as we got the bullets out. “If we do reach an agreement, whatever it is, good trade or no, all four of you will have to pull your own weight if you intend to stick around. And there’s a shitload of weight to be pulled, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I understand,” I replied, accepting and quickly checking the magazines Megan handed to me from her pack before setting them carefully down next to the pistols.
The woman stared at me a moment longer as I zipped up my pack and slowly stood back up. The two men came to stand beside her.
“Grab it,” she said. As they did so, she looked into my eyes. “I’m Lisa.”
“Chris.”
When they were finished, she turned and began walking away. “Come on.”
We followed after her. I could tell Delilah wanted to ask about Lindsay, or at least wanted me to ask, but I looked right at her and gave my head a very short but firm shake. Not yet. As I’d said, we were already playing from a disadvantage, and although I was getting good, just strained, vibes from Lisa, I didn’t put it past almost anyone to take advantage at least some of the time. If our hand was weak now, then letting them know how desperate we were to find a specific person, or giving them a name too early might make the situation worse for us. Although that game could only play out for so much longer.
We were going to have to put our cards on the table, and soon.
The gas station she’d indicated was the first structure on the left side of the street. Directly across from it was an old restaurant, what might have been a Tex-Mex place, judging by the faded red sign over the front entrance.
At a glance, I counted a grand total of nine buildings left standing. I spied an apartment building at the end of the road, one of those long, low motels that was a string of a dozen or so rooms, and the rest could’ve been just about anything. Stores, shops, or restaurants of any kind. Lisa’s armed entourage followed in our footsteps while she walked ahead of us. Nobody said anything. I thought I heard someone crying somewhere nearby. The people were moving things around the street. Several were carrying dead bodies.
We walked into the gas station and an old bell dinged loudly as we did. Lisa walked right up to the front counter, got behind it, and faced us.
“What, exactly, are we negotiating for?” Megan asked.
“What do you want?” Lisa replied.
I glanced back. Two of the men stood out front, two stood just inside. They stared hard at us. I looked back to Lisa. “A place to stay for the four of us. Preferably all in one room.”
“That’ll be expensive,” she replied. “You’ll have to make a pretty big down payment just to get a room, and then we’ll have to assign you work. And you’ll have to do it, and not whine about it, and not do a shit job, either.”
I heard Megan begin to draw in breath and responded quickly. “I’m sure we can manage,” I said, walking closer.
“Show me what you’ve got.”
I set my backpack on the counter, and had the other three women do the exact same thing, and also empty out their pockets. I could tell she wasn’t bluffing about the down payment. She must be desperate for supplies.
“You’ve got wounded?” I asked as I started pulling things out of my own pockets, and then my backpack.
“Yes. Any of you a doctor? A nurse?” Lisa replied, and I could tell she was trying to keep the hope , and desperation, out of her voice.
“No, unfortunately,” I replied.
“Well, one of you is going to have to help out there. Changing bandages and checking temperatures isn’t that hard.”
“Okay,” I replied.
It took half an hour, and Lisa basically cleaned us out. I let it happen, because I knew it was going to a good cause. She wasn’t just taking all our shit for the fun or greed of it, she needed this stuff and that was obvious.
All the spare guns went, and even some of the none spare ones. Delilah and Elizabeth both lost their sidearms. I didn’t like that, but I didn’t think they’d be heading out anytime soon. Whatever happened, they were staying in town for now. Megan and I both managed to hang onto a nine millimeter. I took the one that held twenty round mags, her the fifteen-round one. And we each managed one full load and one spare. We both kept our rifles, though we now only had ten bullets apiece.
I managed to hold onto my thermos and most of my other cooking supplies, some matches, a bit of basic medical stuff, and some of my personal grooming shit. We all were allowed to keep our thermal blankets and a single set of spare clothes. Delilah kept her novels. I made sure of that. But everything else went. All our food. All our other medicine and fire-starting gear. All our spare clothes, blankets, anything of any trade value, spare knives. My compass, my hand-crank flashlight. Delilah’s and Elizabeth’s backpacks even.
It was a tough trade, but it did get us something that I wasn’t actually sure we were going to get: a room to ourselves. I imagined space was at a premium now, and I wasn’t sure if it was my cooperation, Megan’s fuming, or something else, but Lisa seemed to ease up there near the end of the trade. When it was all said and done, and we all put what was left of our stuff back, Lisa seemed a lot less tense. She almost seemed kind.
“Come on,” she said. “I’ll show you to where you’ll be living.”
With that, we headed back out into the cold.