Wyrd Blood

“Keep you alive long enough for Ryker to get what he needs from you,” Burn said. The way his eyes went all sorts of owlish and then rolled didn’t make me want to rush out the door.

At least part of that sentence was a good thing for me. Staying alive was definitely a reason to get up, even if it meant Ryker could prepare me to march right back into the hands of death.

“Where’s breakfast?” I got up and brushed off my pants.

“Come on.” He stepped outside the door and waited for me.

I followed him out and squinted into the morning sun. It was a bit too bright and cheery for my current situation. For some reason, I’d expected storm clouds and great bolts of lightning.

Burn waited beside me, letting me soak in my first good look at the heart of the Valley up close and fully awake. Most of the buildings looked old but repaired, with solid walls and roofs without holes. I’d heard there was much more than this, though, that Ryker had claimed hundreds of acres extending south of here, where there was all sorts of livestock and farmland, but no one had actually seen it. The whole story was very odd.

There were lots of people walking around too, of all ages and sexes. I even spotted some babies. I’d known this was a pretty big place, but I hadn’t realized how many people lived here. No one seemed overly unhappy, either. Why didn’t they look miserable?

Every person we passed on our way seemed to check me out. They glanced over but looked away quickly. But they were smiling. I’d expected contempt.

If Burn noticed anything peculiar, he didn’t say.

“Do these people know who I am?” I asked softly enough that someone passing would have to strain to hear me.

“Of course they do. You were held in the clink for days. We can move you to another room if you want.”

That room was the jail? It was the nicest place I’d slept in years. These people were soft if that scared them into being good.

“No. I like it.” It only had one entrance to worry about guarding. Much safer.

Why weren’t they trying to attack me, though? I wasn’t even getting a couple of I wish you were dead stares. Was it so easy here that only Ryker cared that I was the thief who stole their food? What was wrong with these people? I was an enemy in their camp, and I swear, one of them waved at me as we passed by. Was I supposed to do a job with them? A mission where I put my life on the lines with people who smiled at the enemy? This place was even worse than I’d imagined.

We stopped in front of what appeared to be a building that didn’t have a roof. People were walking in, and some were leaving with dripping wet hair. What the hell was going on in there? We walked in, and there were little rooms that had cloth doors.

“What is this?”

“The showers. Here.” Burn handed me a cloth and a bar of soap that he’d grabbed from a shelf nearby. “Don’t lose the soap. You only get one bar every two weeks.”

I was going to get a new one in two weeks? This place was rich.

Burn walked to one of the small rooms. I had all the supplies I could need, but what was I supposed to do now? I’d never seen anything like this. Burn stepped inside the cube and pointed to a handle. “Turn this like this when you’re ready. See that big vat up there?”

I nodded. You couldn’t miss the thing. It was huge.

“When you open this, water from there will travel down that hose and fill this bucket with holes and then drop onto you. It’s a shower, and it’s easier than filling and emptying baths.”

I looked down at what I was supposed to stand on, and it was planks of wood laid over a shallow ditch.

“Where’s all the water go?”

“It leads down to a stream. I’d keep that in mind for the future if you get thirsty. You never want to drink downstream.” Burn stepped out and waved me in.

I nodded then got behind the cloth, shrugged out of my shirt, and hung it over the wall. The shirt disappeared before I’d even turned on the water.

Burn called over the stall, “Where’s your pants?”

“Why did you take my shirt?”

“I took it because your stuff needs to be burned.”

“Don’t you dare burn my stuff!”

“Calm down. I won’t burn your stuff. I can’t say I’m not letting laundry get their hands on it, though. Give me your pants. You’ll get them back—unfortunately.”

I was about to ask him how I was going to leave the little room if I did that when a new shirt and pants were slung over the wall.

I grazed my fingers over the supple leather of the pants and the fine weave of the shirt. A lot of the people walking around the camp didn’t even have leather pants, but fabric.

“We don’t have all day,” Burn said.

I shed my pants and turned the knob. Just like he’d said, water started to pour out of the holes in the suspended bucket. Cold water. I made quick work with the soap. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d taken soap to my hair. When you couldn’t get food, novelties like soap were way out of the realm of possibility. And it was even smelly soap, like they’d found a way to squeeze a fruit into or something.

Another cloth was dropped over the side of the wall after I turned off the water.

“We’re running late,” Burn said.

I tugged on the clothes and stepped out. Burn was leaning on the wall a couple feet away, and turned. His mouth dropped open.

“What?” I snapped.

“You look…”

I took a step back, wanting to retreat behind the cloth of the small room. “I look what?”

He straightened and stopped looking at me weirdly. “You look the same. I just didn’t realize how light your hair was.”

Okay, that wasn’t a big deal.

“Let’s get breakfast.”

I walked out of the building with Burn, and the more we walked, the more my steps faltered. One by one, heads turned, and I could feel myself shrinking. I should’ve fought Burn on the shower, but I’d wanted one.

“I look weird. People are staring at me. I want my dirt back.”

“They aren’t staring because you’re weird.”

“Then why? They didn’t stare at me before. They looked, maybe smiled, but then turned away.”

“They didn’t stare before because you looked scary. Now you look…” His head shifted, and Burn seemed like he couldn’t choose the word for some reason.

“What? I look what?”

“Not as scary. You’re a new face. Just ignore them and they’ll get used to you.” I didn’t have much of a choice, so I tried to do what he said.

We stopped in front of a building that was quite a bit larger than the rest, and like everything else, it looked prewar but well maintained.

Burn walked in, and I followed. Along the wall, there was a huge row of tables in a single line with food in big dishes. People stood behind the dishes, scooped out servings, and placed them on the plates of the people passing. Burn took a plate from a stack, and then waited while I did the same.

He fell in line behind more smiling people, who greeted him and then smiled at me, before getting food on their plates. Burn moved forward and they dumped food onto his plate. I did the same, waiting for someone to tell me that I wasn’t supposed to be here, that I couldn’t get this free food, but they didn’t. Every time he held out his plate, I did the same, and they kept scooping food onto it: eggs, meat, and bready stuff.

When a huge, scarred man got into line behind me, I was waiting for it. This was it. I was getting booted.

He smiled.

What the hell was wrong with these people? Even if they weren’t clear on the fact that I’d stolen from them, I was a stranger. You didn’t let a stranger in on a stash like this. Somebody needed to wake these people up.

“Another scoop of the diced tomatoes,” Burn said right before we came to the end of the line.

I held my plate back out. “Me too.”

The older woman scooping tomatoes smiled and added it to the mountain of food on my plate.

Burn nodded to follow him, and we weaved our way through a room full of smiling people. A good majority of them said hello as we passed.

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