Char stood in the kitchen of a single-family ranch home—the sort you could find in any American suburb next to cookie-cutter duplicates lined up on streets with themed names. The open cabinets, bloody footprints, and empty knife block were pretty clear clues about what had happened to the occupants.

  The wheelchair lift, over-full medicine cabinet, and three generations of family portraits made it pretty clear that the retired couple who’d lived here hadn’t had a chance against the Wendigo’s mind-controlled thralls. Anger roiled in her belly, but she squashed the guilt that tried to rear its head, reminding herself that she couldn’t be everywhere. There was only one of her, and eight billion tragedies playing out around the globe.

  Royce was gone. She didn’t know if the Wendigo spirit had been destroyed or if it had been kicked back to the spirit world, but either way, it was neutralized for now. There was nothing to vent her anger on. It was just one more debt on the Aldevari’s ledger.

  She stalked out of the kitchen and found Declan sorting through tools in the garage. “Extension cord, water hose, cotton twine. No rope. I did pick up a hacksaw and a nice wrench set, but nothing else useful,” he reported as she came down the three steps from the kitchen door.

  “I found lots of medicines, including antibiotics and lidocaine patches. We won’t be stocking a full clinic, but it’ll help until we can get someone leveled up with the right Affinity. The kitchen was cleaned out, though. I don’t think we’ll find much more here.”

  Declan nodded, “Yeah. You kind of skipped over the low levels, but most chronic health issues clear up at level two or three. Health regeneration is a lot slower at those levels, though, so some first aid stuff will definitely help. I’m not saying we shouldn’t take the medicine.” He added the last sentence as Char’s face took on an odd expression.

  She was wondering how out of touch she was now. It had been about a week since everything had changed. Most people were still under level ten, but she’d catapulted straight past those lower levels. What else did she not know? ‘Lots of things, Adair. There’s a whole galaxy of things you don’t know. Let it go.’ She shook her head and shrugged. “OK. So I’m still living in the World-that-Was half the time. Hell, going through the house, I hit the light switches at least twice.

  “Yeah, you’re not the only one.” He motioned to the pull cord for the fluorescent light strip over the workbench. “Old habits die hard.”

  “Next cutout?” She motioned out the open garage door to a low brick building surrounded by dying trees that they could see across the open desert.

  Declan nodded, and Char whistled to get Lulu’s attention as they stepped out of the garage. Lulu had been enjoying the grass. The lawn had already dried to a sorry-looking brown in the scorching desert heat, but it was apparently still fun to roll in. Char was impressed that she hadn’t set it on fire.

  Full of energy, the hellhound raced a loop around Char and Declan, ran out into the desert, and ran back for another loop. Char felt waves of excitement, restless energy, and the joy of movement rolling from her. Feeling the zoomies from Lulu’s perspective made Char want to move as well. She reined it in, but couldn’t keep the smile off her face at Lulu’s antics.

  The cliff boundary between the desert and the tundra made a wall about a quarter-mile away to their left. The tundra was still melting, sending tumbles of mud and trickles of meltwater raining down on the desert below. The unexpected moisture was making the sparse desert plants bloom in scattered clusters of brilliant yellow and magenta.

  In places, whole slabs of wet tundra soil and peat had slid away in small landslides, creating deceptively inviting ramps up the cliffside. After their first experience with the tundra, Char wasn’t about to be fooled into trying them, though. In time, when the mud had dried, those might make convenient passages from one biome to another, but for now they were only muddy deathtraps.

  There was a stiff breeze blowing down from the tundra, bringing gusts of relief from the heat. Along the edge of the cliff, a wall of fog had formed. The hot desert air was picking up the moisture from the melting cliff edge as it rose, and the colder tundra air was condensing it. Dark storm clouds were building above it, reminding her of the stormwalls she’d watched rolling across the plains back home. Gusty, erratic winds were kicking up dust devils along the boundary.

  Whatever the Aldevari had used to keep the biomes isolated must have been breaking down. When it completely failed, the weather along the seam was going to get pretty wild. The Thunderbird part of her reveled in it. She could feel the storm building in her bones. It was almost as intoxicating as the emotional spillage from Lulu’s zoomies.

  They stayed alert for monsters as they went. Some Deathbarb Vultures circled in the distance, but they weren’t close enough to be a threat. With the amount of restless energy she was feeling, Char would have welcomed a fight, but nothing challenged them as they covered the mile to the next cutout.

  This cutout covered more area than some of the others they’d explored. The trees partially obscured it, but Char could make out vehicles in a parking lot surrounding a small brick structure. The vehicles were a mix of cars and campers, and as she was able to see more of it, she realized there was a second lot with a row of semis and larger RVs. It was a familiar sight, though it took her a moment to put together why it looked so familiar to her.

  It was an interstate rest area. The entire facility, from the chainlink fence at the back to a chunk of highway at the front, had been scooped up and relocated. The trees were tall, thin pines, and mixed among them she saw broad-leafed magnolias and delicate crepe myrtles. When they got closer, Char was finally able to read the lettering on the front of the building: Mississippi Welcome Center.

  For a moment, she was floored by a wave of deja vu. She’d stopped at this rest area before. The row of trucks and cars had been a staple of her life on the road, if not at this specific rest area, then at a hundred others so much like it. It hit her like a hammer blow, and the air rushed out of her like she’d been gut-punched.

  The wave of emotion was intense, but fleeting. She’d stopped walking, but she shook her head at Declan’s questioning glance. “I’m fine. Just wasn’t expecting a blast from the past, is all.”

  They crossed the semi-circular bite of interstate asphalt and crossed a grassy ditch before climbing back up into the trees. All of the vegetation was suffering from the dry desert heat. Mississippi had heat, but it was usually humid, with air like wet cotton. The Magnolias were drooping, their broad, leathery leaves turning brown. The pines were still holding on, but barely. If that storm didn’t bring them moisture soon, they’d be nothing but tall poles. It was eerie seeing a space that should be overflowing with green life turning brown and bare like this.

  A body lay between two of the cars in the lot, stripped down to a skeleton, rags that might once have been clothing, and bloodstains. Char reflexively looked up for circling vultures, but didn’t see any.

  “There are people inside,” Declan said, his voice low. “I can see them moving through the windows. We’re being watched.”

  Char considered for a moment, then stored her sword in a Quick Access slot. She turned to face the building and lifted her hands to shoulder height, showing open palms. “Let’s go in friendly. Lulu, love you, sweet girl, but you should probably hang back a bit so we don’t make them nervous.”

  Lulu chuffed, and Char swore she heard a note of derision in it, but she fell back a few paces. Declan stored his daggers. Walking slowly, they approached the welcome center. When they were still about twenty feet from the doors, they flew open.

  A gruff man in a t-shirt with a leather biker’s cut over it stood in the doorway. He called out, “That’s far enough. Who are you, who are you with, and what do you want?”

  Before Char could answer, he was pushed out of the way by a tall, older woman with her gray hair pulled back in a neat bun. “That’s enough of that, Leonard. I’ll not have you picking a fight with the first new people we’ve seen in days.” She turned to address Char and Declan, ignoring the annoyed look the biker shot her. He didn’t argue with her, though. He only crossed his arms and took up a position just behind her like an honor guard.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The woman had the air of someone who was used to being in charge and wouldn’t put up with nonsense. She wore jeans and a navy and orange blouse with an Auburn AU logo, giving the impression of a boardroom executive dressing down for a bowl game. “I apologize for the rude greeting. I’m Annabel Lombard, and it’s a pleasure to meet y’all. Leonard could have been more politic with his questions, but we would like to know the answers, if you’d be so kind.” The woman’s gaze was piercing, assessing her like a school principal trying to decide if she was guilty of some infraction.

  She decided that the straightforward approach would be best. These folks seemed to be a little on edge, but she couldn’t blame them for that. “I’m Charlotte Adair, but you can call me Char. This is Declan. We’re not really with anyone, but we’ve found a couple of other groups of survivors. We’re trying to bring everyone together.” Char didn’t want to mention the valley and the Sanctuary until she’d had a chance to feel these people out. She kicked herself for not talking it over with Declan beforehand, and she could only hope that he’d pick up on why she was keeping the details vague. “Have you all been holed up here since this started?”

  “Most of us have. There was a group of us that set out to find help the day after everything got strange, but they’ve not returned. We’ve had a few more wander in looking for shelter. Since those… bird things killed that poor man,” she gestured toward the picked-over skeleton, “we’ve been staying inside. They swarm us every time we go out.”

  “In that case, do you mind if we talk inside? They’ve left us alone so far today, but if they’re targeting you, I’d rather not linger in the open.” Char glanced up, but the trees blocked most of the sky. It was impossible to see if the vultures they’d seen circling in the distance had come any closer.

  Annabel hesitated, then nodded to herself. “Of course. Please, come on in.” She stepped to the side, and the large biker leaned close to whisper to her. He didn’t seem happy about letting strangers into their sanctum, but whatever Annabel said made him sigh in resignation and step back.

  When Char got a little closer, she checked the patches on his cut and breathed an internal sigh of relief when she saw that he was part of a veteran’s MC, and not an outlaw. There were six motorcycles in the lot, and she really didn’t want to fight half a dozen bikers with mischief in mind. She wasn’t worried about losing, but she didn’t want to kill people if she didn’t absolutely have to. There was enough blood on her hands already.

  Declan followed her into the welcome center. The inside of the building was decorated with rich wood, and the walls were lined with racks full of brochures advertising all of the things Mississippi offered for tourists. There was a seating area and two small hallways branching off, leading to restrooms and vending machine alcoves. The seating area was full of people. At a glance, Char estimated there were around twenty people seated on the benches and chairs, or sprawled on the floor leaning against the brochure racks.

  “I would offer you refreshments, but I’m afraid our supplies are running a bit thin,” Annabel said as she followed them through the door. Char could see that they had the drawn look of people surviving on tight rations. Assess showed them all as Human, with levels ranging from 1 for most of them to 14 for the strongest. They were a cross-section of America, a variety tossed together by the random chance of timing. She recognized a familiar face among the crowd at the same time he recognized them.

  “Char? Declan?” Cory Rodgers pushed himself to his feet. “Is that really you?” He was across the space before Char could wrap her mind around him being there, and he threw his arms around Declan in a hug. The man looked a little worse for wear. His clothing was ragged, and he had dark hollows under his eyes.

  “Cory, how the hell did you get here? What happened to everyone else? Are they…?” Her question trailed off.

  He let Declan go and shook his head, “The rest are still back at the mercado, as far as I know. A bunch came with me, but only a few of us made it here. Things there started to get… bad.” His voice shook, and it cracked on the last word.

  Ice gripped Char’s heart as she imagined all the ways things might have gone wrong. She started to ask him all of the questions that welled up, but she put a muzzle on her impatience. He’d obviously had a rough time of it. She was about to suggest they sit down so he could tell her the story when another voice interrupted, hesitant and full of concern. “Um, Ma’am? Is that dog on fire?”

  Lulu had followed them into the building. When she’d seen Cory, she’d rushed over to greet him as he hugged Declan, and in her excitement, flames had begun to dance down her back.

  “Oh, that’s Lulu. Don’t worry, she’s a sweetie.” Char stepped over to the big dog and ruffled her ears to show everyone that she was friendly. Lulu chuffed and sat, pulling her mouth up in a big doggy-grin and trying her best to look non-threatening.

  Cory did a double-take. “That’s Lulu? She got big!” He reached out a hand for her to sniff, and she licked it, her tail wagging.

  Annabel cleared her throat, and Char turned back to her. Leonard was still standing next to her, his beefy arms crossed as he watched the reunion. He kept darting worried glances at Lulu.

  “It’s always nice to see old friends reunited. Do y’all know one another from before all of this?” The words were polite on the surface, the very picture of genteel Southern hospitality, but Char could feel Annabel weighing their every word and reaction. Under her facade of charm was a momma bear concerned about her charges.

  Cory shook his head. “Char here saved us from a bunch of giant crystal mosquitoes. We were barely holding on, trying to get across that tundra biome,” he waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the cliff, “and we didn’t think we were going to make it. Then, bam! Out of nowhere, she and Lulu come charging in and hold off the bloodsuckers long enough for us to get away. Then, she led us to this abandoned convenience store where there was food.”

  Char looked at him sideways. “You’re making me sound like some sort of story-book hero. It wasn’t like that.”

  “Yeah. It kinda was, Char,” Declan said. “We thought we were gonners, and you showed up throwing around lightning and swinging that sword. You looked like something out of an action movie. Why do you think I wanted you to teach me?”

  Char blushed and stammered, but was saved from having to reply by Annabel’s next question.

  “If there was food and safety, then why did you leave? Especially if you knew that the person Cory told me about, Voss, was such a villain? It sounds to me like you could have led the group and saved them all a lot of pain.” Annabel was making an effort to keep her tone neutral, but there was an edge of judgment in it.

  “Pain?” Char’s confusion showed on her face. “Voss was a bit of an ass, but they seemed to be in decent hands. Between Cory, Anais, and Mira, they had a good bunch keeping things organized. I left because I wanted to try to find my family.” She turned to Cory and asked, “What happened with Voss?”

  “He, Gina, and Loman went into that dungeon. Loman was there when you told Declan and me about it, remember? He must have run right off to Voss and told him about it. The day after you left, they all disappeared. They came back two days later stronger and with magic. After that, Voss turned into a power-tripping nightmare. He runs the place like a tin-pot dictator, only it's worse because he has some sort of power that makes people do what he wants. He found another survivor group and brought them in, and he’s got a bunch of bully boys that half-way worship him. He’s killed people for speaking out against him, and everyone’s afraid of him. Gina and Loman are almost worse in some ways. Loman’s a straight-up bully, and Gina uses her power to toy with people, poisoning them just so she can see them squirm and suffer.” He paled at some memory and paused for a moment to gather himself.

  Char’s stomach clenched in horror and guilt. She’d known Voss was a narcissistic asshole, but she hadn’t thought he was a straight-up power-hungry sociopath. She’d had a good reason for leaving, or at least, she’d thought so at the time. There was no way she could have known things would get that bad. She certainly didn’t think any of them would be crazy enough to go into the dungeon.

  Cory went on with his tale. “A bunch of us, about a dozen, got ourselves assigned to a lumber crew. As soon as we were away from the mercado, one of the guys knocked out Voss’ stooge who’d come along to ‘supervise’ and we took off. The idea was to find another safe place to hole up away from Voss and his crazy, but I convinced everyone to head south. I guess I was kind of hoping to find you, though I didn’t really think there was any chance I actually would.” He offered Char a weak half-smile, then continued, “Only six of us were still alive when we got here, and Annabel was kind enough to take us in, even though they didn’t have much food.”

  “Y’all were in pretty sorry shape when you landed on our doorstep. I couldn’t, in good conscience, turn you away.” She turned her steel gaze to Char. “Miss Adair, I have a whole lot of questions, but the first thing I need to know is if you are a danger to the people under my care. Food and safety are in short supply, and the last thing we need is to be dragged into someone else’s conflict. I also need some assurance that you, and your… companion,” she nodded toward Lulu, “aren’t a danger to the people in this room. She’s a well-behaved beast, but she’s obviously not a normal dog. Is she safe?”

  Char bristled a little when Annabel used the word ‘beast’, but she did her best to keep her tone even and friendly. “Lulu was a normal dog when all this started. She’s smarter than she started, and maybe a little scarier, but she’s still sweet and friendly under the changes. As for dragging you into a conflict… I have no intention of doing so. I was only passing through on my way back to the group Cory came from. Declan and I found a safe place, and I wanted to offer them a chance to join us there. I had no idea things had gotten so bad. I obviously made a mistake by leaving the way I did, and it looks like I need to go set things right.”