The morning air smelled fresh and clean. It was starting to get slightly chilly, but the water had yet to freeze throughout the night. Many of the birds had migrated south, so Cosette's clops were about the only sounds to be heard.

Camille had suggested Karin start listening to podcasts on her early morning rides. She was missing the point entirely. Karin enjoyed the silence. She needed this time to clear her mind before the upcoming day. Alone, except for Cosette. Or Lancelot, but she hadn’t taken him out of the farm for weeks. His health had deteriorated too much.

Poor Lancelot. Karin felt down just thinking about him. He had lived a long life and probably deserved to rest, rather than live with pain. She just couldn't make herself do it. He was her lifelong companion, her friend. She had spent more hours together with him than anyone else, save her closest family.

Britney had chastised her for her decision. Talk about throwing rocks in a glass house. Karin remembered how hysterical her friend had been when her favorite horse had been laid to rest. It had suffered from advanced cancer. That was a fate Lancelot thankfully didn't share. He was just very old. You didn't execute old people for being old. Why should a horse be different?

She knew why, she just wished it was different somehow. Or more precisely, she wished she didn’t have to have this problem at all. It hurt so much to outlive her friend.

Painful thoughts. Karen sighed and patted Cosette. At least she was still young. Young-ish.

She let her mind wander to other issues. In four days, the friend group would gather at her place. She was going to make her special cheesecake, and needed to visit the store today or tomorrow. The twins would come by to ride later today. Maybe she could enlist their help on cleaning the stables. Kids were so much easier to deal with than adults.

Speaking of annoying adults, she needed to fill out the papers for the court filing. At this point, Andrew was nothing more than a stinking pile of vengeful dung. Anders had already moved out, for Christ’s sake. The only reason her ex continued his judicial assault on her was to waste her time or maybe gradually wear her down. Well, it had certainly worn down any patience she might have left. Thankfully, her son was firmly on her side in this conflict.

Thank God Maria had been willing to help her out. She dreaded to think how much money she'd have to pay for a competent lawyer otherwise.

She turned her thoughts to other, less aggravating issues instead. Dinner. Chores. Her next knitting project.

The familiar path led them back home. Just as she was about to take Cosette into the stables, she noticed something at the door to the farmhouse. No, not something. Someone leaning on the door. Somewhere between sitting and lying.

Karin shuddered. Who was this? She wasn’t used to uninvited guests. There were some houses nearby, but she knew all her neighbors. There was at least five minutes of driving slowly on dirt roads to get to the main road.

She couldn’t see the stranger’s face. It looked like they had fallen asleep sitting and slowly tilted over without fully falling. They were wrapped in a blanket. The top of the head poked out, revealing some hair sticking out under a too small cap. The hair looked fairly short, with a light color. Blonde? Grey?

From the length of the hair and somewhat wide frame, she guessed the stranger was a man, but she couldn’t be sure. From what she could see sticking out of the blanket, his pants and shoes looked rather fancy, at least when they were new. Now they were all torn and muddy. His backpack looked like something he had dug out of a garbage can.

Maybe it was a beggar? A homeless man or woman? Or something more sinister, like someone trying to get into her house to rob her? It seemed unlikely, but she had heard stories and rumors...

She didn’t know how to handle this. A part of her wanted to find something she could use as a weapon, like one of the pitchforks. On the other hand, it might be a bad idea to provoke such a man; maybe he’d lash out in defense even if he hadn’t planned anything illegal.

Cosette gave her a bit of security. The girl had a temper, and would quickly resort to biting or kicking if someone threatened her. It was still not enough safety to overcome this problem, though.

Should she call the police? Well, she would do that in a heartbeat if she was in danger, though she couldn’t expect them to come out here just because of a random stranger. Actually, they probably would, but with all the talk of police violence on the news… no. Maybe it was a man that genuinely needed help.

She dialed Britney’s number on video-call.

“Hey, Karin. What is it?” her friend’s familiar face brightened up the screen.

“I need help.”

She explained the appearance of the stranger, and pointed the camera at him so her friend could see.

“I’m going to wake him up, while holding the cell phone so you can see him. Or her. I think it’s a man. If at any point they turn violent or something, call the police. Okay?”

Britney glared at her. “I don’t like you getting into trouble with another man. As if Andrew isn’t enough.”

“I know, but it could be a person in actual need,” Karin countered, “I can just give them some food and send them on their way.”

“If you say so,” Britney shrugged. “You’re in luck; classes don’t start until ten. I have time to watch for a while.”

“Thanks,” Karin smiled, “I’m feeling more confident just knowing you’re watching.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

She unmounted, and tied Cosette up with a very loose knot. If she wanted to get loose, she would easily be able to do that. Karin then turned the call to the external camera, allowing Britney to watch while she held the phone, without the stranger seeing the screen. She walked up to him.

“Hello?” she called out to him, from more than ten steps away. When that produced no reaction, she called out louder: “Hello there?”

There was a slight reaction, but nothing that indicated the stranger was awake. She didn’t want to go close enough for them to grab her, so she picked up the broom and used the handle to poke them. “Can you hear me?”

At the third poke, she finally got a reaction. The stranger tilted so far to the side, he fell over. If she had any doubts it was a man, it was confirmed by a painful, deep grunt, followed by a gasp and more cries of pain.

“Are you hurt?” she asked with genuine concern.

The man slowly pushed himself up and looked confusedly around until he met Karen’s eyes. There was something familiar about him, yet she didn’t quite recognize him.

“Hey, Karin,” the stranger half-croaked, “I need help. Please don’t call the police.”

Why, that didn’t sound ominous at all.

“Who are you?” she asked, “And how do you know me?”

“Martin. I was here with my daughters almost ten years ago, remember?”

“Martin! Is that really you?”

“Who is Martin?” Britney asked through her phone.

“Who said that?” He looked towards the source of the sound.

Karin flipped the phone camera again and showed Britney on the screen. “Britney, this is Martin Kinsley. From primary school.”

All three of them had been classmates during primary school, though Karin would be surprised if the two had met since the reunion ten years later.

“You look terrible, man,” Britney commented.

“Truth to be told, I am in deep shit.”

He groaned again. Now that she had time to really observe him, she noticed him shivering.

“How about we go inside, and I’ll make you a cup of coffee or tea?” Karin proposed.

If it wasn’t already obvious he was in pain, it became very clear when he tried to get to his feet. The man had trouble just standing up, and clutched his side fiercely. She tried to help him, only to discover his skin was cold and wet with sweat.

“You’re hurt! What happened to you?”

“I don’t really know,” he admitted. “I’ll try my best to explain.”

They made their way inside, and she insisted he keep his shoes on while guiding him to a kitchen chair. It would have been easier with two hands, but she still wanted Britney there to listen to everything.

She put the phone on the table, leaning against a vase so Britney could watch them. She finally got a good look at him. He looked bad, no doubt about it. His skin was pale, his breathing shallow. His hair was a lot more gray than when they last met. He was wearing an old, homemade sweater over what looked like a very dirty tuxedo. His once fine shoes belonged in a fine setting, and she could only imagine the amount of pain his feet must be in if he had been walking in them for hours.

He leaned heavily back on the chair and shared a genuinely terrifying story. She would have accused him of having fever dreams, except nightmares didn’t create bullet wounds. Worse, this fit with the news of a huge, deadly fire that had broken the news yesterday, not far from her farm. At the time, she had just been glad the forest hadn’t caught fire. Now, she was horrified.

Good thing Britney was on the line. She asked clarifying questions, which Martin tried to answer as best he could. The only valuable input Karin had was insisting he take another dose of painkillers, despite his protests that he took some only hours ago.

The news had claimed there had been an explosion when a room full of illegally obtained fireworks caught fire, followed by a huge fire. It hadn't occurred to her at the time, but as Britney pointed out, a bomb generally didn’t kill everyone in a house, unless it was large enough to destroy multiple nearby houses. Normally, bombs could harm a lot of people, but didn’t usually kill that many directly. Yet there had been no survivors after the incident.

At the end of the discussion, Martin looked like he was about to die. She helped him to the living room, where he promptly fell asleep on her couch.

“What do we do, Britney?” she asked her friend, “He’s dying! We have to get Camille.”

“Sorry, impossible. Remember? Her return flight is Sunday. Think he can wait that long?”

“I don’t think so!” She was almost hyperventilating. “I can’t have him dying on my couch without doing everything I can for him. The man has children! Two daughters.”

“Grown-ups now, but yes. I see your point. It’s a fucking problem. How about we just call an ambulance and hope for the best?”

“No! The police will find him, and then he will be taken away and we will never hear from him again. If that happens, I'll hate myself for the rest of my life."

"Honey, will you fucking look at him. He is half dead already. There's a good chance he's dead within the day no matter what you do."

"I know, but if he dies after I did my best, I'll… accept it. At least I won't be responsible for indirectly killing him by handing him over to whoever those guys were."

They fell into silence for a few moments.

“Okay, this is a long shot, but remember the witch you told me about?” Britney asked.

"You mean Miss Redwax? Yes, but she moved there to be left alone. I'm not sure she can even help me."

"Yeah, well, desperate situations call for desperate measures. At least you will have tried something."

"I… guess," Karin admitted.

"And if he dies on your way, you can just dump the body somewhere on the way."

"Britney!"

"It was a joke, relax," Britney coyly smiled.

Karin wasn't sure she really believed that.

Britney shrugged. “You’ll have to forgive me for not moving Heaven and Earth to help someone that picked on me during school.”

“That was forty years ago, Britney. I have met him since, and he’s a decent guy.”

“Yeah, not sure I’ll take your word for it,” she said skeptically, “After all, you decided Andrew was a good man, too.”

“Can you please stop bringing that up every other sentence?” Karin said with a hint of irritation, “Just leave that dead horse alone.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Britney said, not very convincingly. She turned more serious. “Anyway, while I don’t like him particularly much, for you, Karin, I can call in sick and rush over to you.”

“You need at least three quarters to get here, right? I appreciate your offer, but I think I’ll be able to get him onto the wagon on my own, provided I can wake him up.”

“If you say so. Call me if you run into trouble. Actually, call me regardless, I want to know what’s going on. You know I care about you.”

That was Britney in a nutshell. Rude, but caring.

“Thanks, Britney. I will.”