The township of Fairview was nestled on a patch of greenery on the shoreline of Lake Union, just north of Warden City. A few centuries prior, there had been a community garden in the area. After the first residents of Fairview were allowed to settle in the area by the Wardens, exchanging tribute for protection, they adopted the community gardens as their own. Garden beds were tidied and raised, planted with whatever could be grown, providing a stable source of food for Fairview in addition to what could be fished from the lake. However, the year’s harvests had been poor and people were going hungry.
As winter approached, people became increasingly desperate to collect food. Fishermen paddled further and further away from shore, despite the turbulent, radioactive waters below. Hunters ventured deeper into lakelurk territory, risking the wrath of the queen, using their own lives as bait to collect eggs or isolate lakelurks to kill and butcher.
The community was committed to making sure everyone survived through winter, building up their food stores, even when they expected that not everyone would. Snow was too young to join the fishing crews or hunters, she was able to join a group of farmers who scavenged for junk in ruins for barter. One of many such groups who found themselves with free time after they collected their meager harvest.
Snow’s own group of scavengers traveled to a hardware store where a paint mixer was still in operation. Someone had a plan to sell white paint to the Wardens, which they used to coat their distinctive armor. However, the journey brought the group north of the lake, near Skulltaker territory, a frightening prospect for Snow even if the other scavengers were confident in their safety.
The Skulltakers were like the other raider gangs in most ways, slaving and thieving where they could, but they were uniquely brutal in their violence. Human skeletons marked the limits of their territory, a decorative choice not shared by the other raider gangs, which also served as a warning to any sane traveler. After all, nothing shouted “killers here” like skeletons chained to a wall.
They should’ve been hunted down and wiped out like the savages they were, or so Snow’s grandfather had insisted. Unlike the other raiders during the wars for Seattle, the Skulltakers were one of the few gangs who were allowed to join the compact with the Wardens. So when the Wardens took full control over the city, the Skulltakers were allowed to continue operating. Strict limitations were imposed on them, of course, but it didn’t ease Snow’s fears. She happened to agree with her grandfather.
A whistle sounded, the signal for the scavengers to gather at their rendezvous point in front of the hardware store. Only a handful of people were required to operate the mixer, so the rest of the scavengers were allowed to explore freely, as long as they didn’t wander too far. Snow’s eyes darted around the bedroom of the ruined apartment she broke into, searching for one last item to take, and they landed on a deflated wolf plushie. She removed it from a crib and shook it free of dust, before throwing it into her rucksack and leaving the apartment.
Past the broken door and through a hallway, Snow hopped down two flights of stairs, three steps at a time, and pushed through the front entrance. She ran down the sidewalk, towards the hardware store, and her right foot caught on her left leg. She fell forward and barely managed to catch herself on a newspaper box. Its front unhinged and a pained gasp escaped her lungs as it jabbed into her side. And while it broke her fall, she fell onto sharp rocks that cut through her pants. Pain lanced out from her knees and ribs, like crashing waves. Snow had always been as awkward as she was tall, but she was happy there was nobody to witness her embarrassment.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Snow muttered to herself and pulled a sharp rock from her knee. There was blood, but not enough to worry about. She stood and kicked at the newspaper box, but the tip of her shoe glanced off the bottom and hit the box with her shin instead. She grimaced and pulled out her revolver, but she was more disappointed now than frustrated.
Instead of wasting precious bullets, she limped away. There was no real reason she had to run as fast as she did. There was still time to make it to the rendezvous point before they started sending out search parties. And if there wasn’t, the scavengers would stay for her, she knew, but she didn’t want to waste their time. They were already kind enough to allow her to join their scavenging expeditions and she wanted to prove that their trust in her wasn’t a mistake.
Suspicious noises echoed from an alleyway, the sound of angry yelling. Snow approached, revolver ready, and peered around the corner. Three boys with knives, around Snow’s age, were standing on either side of an old woman holding a bat. One between the woman and Snow, and two on the opposite side towards the other end of the alley. Snow recognized the woman as one of the scavengers in her group and she yelled out. “Hey! Leave her alone!”
“Not until she hands over the pack!” One of the boys shouted, pointing at the woman’s rucksack. “I saw that giddy-up buttercup leg and I want it now!”
Snow made a show of calling for help, shouting and waving her arms, even if nobody was there. “Over here! We’re being robbed!” Then she ran at the boys, her revolver brandished prominently in her hand.
“Ya hear that?” The woman said, emboldened by the display and waving her bat at the boys. “You ain’t getting anything without a fight.”
The boys looked at each other nervously and Snow was glad they didn’t choose to rush the woman and run off with her rucksack. Her aim was poor and the risk of friendly fire was too great, but they must’ve been as afraid as she was. The two boys on the opposite side of the alley fled, leaving their friend behind. The last boy held out his arm, pointing his knife at the woman, as he tried to circle around her. When he realized nobody was going to stop him from running, the boy swiped the knife at the woman, who blocked the knife with her bat.
“Just go home.” Snow said as she ran to the woman’s side and pointed the revolver at the boy’s chest. “Don’t make me shoot you. I’ll do it, I swear.”
“I’m no coward like the others. I bet you don’t even have bullets in that thing.” The boy declared and charged forward.
Snow shot him twice through the chest. The boy fell onto his back and blood gurgled from his mouth as his eyes went wide with shock.
“Stupid.” The woman said and spat a glob of spit to the side, before turning her attention to Snow. “Are you alright girlie? Yer hand is shaking.”
“Huh?” Snow looked at the hand carrying her revolver. It wasn’t the first time she was forced to kill, it was the second, but her hands shook with some indescribable emotion. She grabbed the revolver with her other hand to uncock it's hammer with both thumbs, careful to not to shoot herself in either foot, then holstered it. “I’m just a little cold.”
“No shame in being a little afraid of killing. Or guilty, even if it’s raider scum. It’s when you stop feeling anything about killing that you need to start getting worried.” The woman said and patted Snow’s shoulder. “Now, let’s strip him of his belongings. Good loot here.”
“Even his-” Snow gestured towards the boy’s coat, which had two holes blown into it.
“Bah! Stitch it closed and clean off the blood, then it’ll be good to sell. Just don’t tell anyone someone died in it, some folk get antsy with that sort of thing. The name’s Renner by the by. And you’re that girl, Snow. The new volunteer?”
Up close, all of Renner’s wrinkles were on full display and when she smiled, it revealed a few missing teeth. Snow considered that she was probably too old to be scavenging, but others had told Snow that she was too young. So they were in good company, both working hard before winter fell on Fairview.
“Yep, that would be me.” Snow smiled ruefully as she slowly pulled away the boy’s coat, the blood making it stick against his shirt. A necklace hung around his neck, a length of string and a wooden token with skulls carved into the faces, and she wondered briefly if the boy had carved it himself. Or if he had someone who cared for him back home. “Do you think he was a raider? The skulls-”
“Not every criminal has to be a raider. Plenty of hanger-ons and posers trying to act tougher than they really are.” Renner pulled the necklace from the boy and placed it into her rucksack. “I reckon I owe you for getting me out of this mess, so let me take his clothes. I’ll clean them up and stitch the holes for you, then you can do with them what you please. Alright?”
Snow nodded and the woman pulled the coat off the boy, dragging his body up and allowing it to fall limply onto the ground with a thud. Blood spattered from the holes in the boy’s chest and Snow jumped away, turning to a wall and vomiting her breakfast in front of it. Renner just laughed as she continued her work. Down the alley, where Snow had come through, the rest of their scavenger group approached with their weapons drawn. At their head was a balding, red bearded man named Mickey, the elected leader of their group, carrying a sawed-off double-barrel shotgun.
“Renner! Snow! Are you alright? What the hell happened?”
Renner scoffed. “Oh calm down, Mickey, and look with yer eyes. What do you think happened?”
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
“Thieves tried to take our packs.” Snow said between gasping breaths, still doubled over. She sloshed her tongue around her mouth and spat on the ground, but she couldn’t get rid of the acidic taste in her mouth.
“Should’ve given them up.” Mickey leaned over the boy, grabbing him by the jaw and moving his head back and forth. “Who was he? A raider? Please tell me he wasn’t one of the Skulltaker’s boys.”
“I dunno who he was. You know how these things go. There’s so many bastards running around, he could be anyone.”
“Snow said thieves, right? As in plural?”
“Nah, you misheard. She said a thief tried to take our packs.”
Mickey sighed. “Snow, was there anyone else?” Snow gave Renner a look, but she was silent and stone faced. “Snow? Tell me the truth.”
“There were two others.” Snow said and Renner clicked her tongue. “But they ran. I wanted to let them all go, but this one attacked us. He thought I was bluffing with my revolver. That I didn’t have any bullets.”
“Anything else?” Mickey asked.
Snow looked at Renner, who threw up her hands in exasperation. “Fine.” She said and pulled the boy’s necklace from her pack. Mickey said nothing as he took the necklace and traced a thumb over the skulls carved into it. He tossed it back at her. “Probably doesn’t mean anything.”
“Well, there’s not much to be done now. I’m just glad you two are safe, but we should get out of here. Now.” Mickey said and helped Renner finish looting the boy.
Once they were finished, the group made quick time to Fairview. To Snow’s surprise, Mickey carried the boy over his shoulder. To eat, she thought, until he dumped the body over the side of the canal bridge. He wouldn’t have been the first cannibal in Fairview, but she was glad he wasn’t one of them.
They had their paint and were further weighed down by a successful day of scavenging, but dumping the boy into Lake Union seemed to weigh heavier than anything else. There was a nervousness in the air that drove them forward. It kept their hands on their weapons, eyes looking over their shoulders, even when they neared the wooden walls of Fairview. Snow could feel the glances cast her way, when she didn’t see them. Their judgment made her ears burn worse than any embarrassment and she lagged behind the group, keeping to herself.
Near the north gate, groups of scavengers formed to discuss when they might take the trip to Warden City. Going south, deeper into Warden territory, was usually safe, but there was safety in numbers. A luxury that was difficult to live without. A caravan left for the city every week, but there were a few scavengers who wanted to work the market. To sell their junk and check off any quotas before the caravan did. Snow never had anything valuable that could convince those independent groups to escort a young girl that might cut into their profits. The caravan would probably allow her to travel with them, but not if she had a target on her back.
Renner pulled Snow aside to talk. “Don’t mind them, girlie. They’re just worried about winter. Dead raiders always bring trouble, but we did what we had to.” She said between rasping breaths.
“Was he even a raider? He was so young.” The boy’s face flashed through Snow’s mind, his blank eyes staring at her, and she shuddered. “He can’t have been much younger than me.”
“Doesn’t really matter if he was a raider or not. He’d rather rob some scavengers than do an honest day’s work.”
“And his friends. What if they’re looking for me? If the caravan doesn’t want the trouble, I’ll have to go to the city alone.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You saved my life. I know it, and so does Mickey. We won’t let the caravan push you away. Now, meet me here tonight before curfew. I’ll have your loot ready by then.”
“Thank you, I really appreciate that.”
“Bah! I’m the one thanking you, girlie.” Renner patted Snow’s shoulder and loped away with a sway in her step.
—
After eating at the cantina, bartering for a little extra food to take with her, Snow traveled to the orphanage in northern Fairview. One of the few standalone houses within the town's walls, it had once belonged to one of the oldest families in Fairview and was used to shelter orphans of the wars for Seattle. Eventually, it was officially given over to the community and took in orphans from Eastlake to Madison.
All the extra mouths weren’t cheap to feed, but it was a service that helped keep them from joining the raider gangs. As winter approached, donations continued to filter in from wanderers who ventured north to scavenge. They never looked wealthy, just the typical wastelander, but they always had some small gift they could spare for the children. It made Snow optimistic, reminding her that people still cared.
Sitting on a reclining chair in the living room, built from reclaimed furniture, Snow found the headmistress of the orphanage. She was reading an old book about a prince and a hat, surrounded by her children.
Outside, it had begun snowing and would likely continue into the night, but a lit fireplace radiated warmth throughout the room. The house had been renovated with Seattle’s winters in mind. Any openings were closed off, with two layers of wood and a layer of insulation in between. There was no place warmer or safer that Snow knew of.
Mama Mayhue looked up from her book and called out. “Close the door, you’re letting the heat out!” The children turned and cried out Snow’s name as they stood to surround her with small grasping hands.
“Hello, I have a gift for all of you.” Snow said, pulling the stuffed wolf from her rucksack. The children reached out to grab it, but Snow dangled it in the air. Far too high for any of them to reach. “It needs a bit of sewing, but you can add it to the zoo when it’s fixed up.”
She walked to Mama Mayhue’s side, gently brushing past the children around her, to hand her the wolf as well as the extra food she had bartered for. A small pastry filled with meat. “My favorite!” Mama Mayhue said and eagerly bit into the pastry, savoring every bite.
She had always been a thin woman, but she had become noticeably more gaunt in the months following the bad harvest. Snow didn’t doubt that she was skipping meals to ensure the children were fed, the way she had even when the harvests had been good, so she made sure to bring her a little extra food when she could.
“Graven can have a friend.” A child said as he knelt beside Mama Mayhue and stared at the toy wolf on her lap, referring to the other toy wolf already in their possession. Named after one of two characters from a spooky story they had heard from a wandering traveler, Snow could guess what they might name the second wolf. “Ragnar!” Another child said. Of course it was Ragnar.
A knock sounded on the door and a group of hunters and fishermen strolled into the orphanage. They brought cuts of lakelurk and small fish as well as vegetables for a nice stew, so Snow knew their day’s haul had been decent. They had been former residents under Mama Mayhue’s care who have since moved out, men and women who made lives of their own and remained at Fairview.
Among them was Sam, who had been her first friend at the orphanage. She was a few years older than Snow, but was the closest in age and had taken it upon herself to make Snow feel comfortable in her new home. She had secured a place on one of the fishing boats, but she was never too busy for Snow. While Snow was never too busy for Sam, because she never had anything to do.
Mama Mayhue began to stand, but one of the hunters patted her shoulder and helped her back into her seat. “A few of us can stick around to cook.” Bradley said, the oldest of Mama Mayhue’s children. “I don’t want to interrupt story time, right kids?”
The children nodded their heads and muttered their agreements, returning to their seats beside Mama Mayhue. “Very well. Now, where was I?” Mama Mayhue said, flipping through the pages of her book, children calling out page numbers as Sam and Snow seated themselves off to the side on wooden chairs lined against the wall.
“Our boat almost capsized today.” Sam said bluntly and yawned.
“What? Are you okay?” Snow asked, startled by the confession.
“Oh yeah, it’s no big deal. One of our nets got stuck on a lakelurk of all things. It kept pulling away, so a few of us had to dive in and kill it. Too bad for those guys, the water was freezing. Everyone is fine though. We lost the net, which has to be fixed up, but I reckon a lakelurk is a good haul.”
“I’m sure it’ll keep people going for a little while longer.”
“And you? Anything exciting today?” Sam asked and Snow couldn’t help but think of the boy she had killed. A feeling of easiness rose from her stomach, but she choked it down.
“Nothing much. Just some paint.”
“Oh c’mon, that can’t be it. I can see it on your face. What happened?” Sam’s wide eyes peered deeply into Snow’s own, like they could see what she was hiding.
“Raiders tried to rob us. Or, maybe they were just thieves. Our scavengers made it home safely, but one of the raiders died. I’m just worried they might retaliate.”
“Well, that’s why we travel in groups isn’t it? I’m sure it’ll be fine. Not even the Skulltakers would dare mess around in Warden territory. We’re protected.”
A hunter peeked out of the kitchen and called to Sam for help to make some baked dish. Apparently she had some skill with a knife and could cut the veggies thinner than the others. Snow followed Sam to help where she could and was also assigned to cutting vegetables, but she couldn’t help but worry. What if the boy she had killed belonged to the Skulltakers?
Raiders were savages, but they had their own code of honor. An eye for an eye, that sort of thing. Maybe she’d be safe in Warden territory, but raiders were hardly trustworthy. They could break the peace for some small vengeance, then pay an additional tribute to the Wardens as an apology. Or if they became impatient, they would extract their vengeance from another group of scavengers.
Renner had been seen with Snow. She could be the next target if Snow couldn’t be found. Maybe she’d be a target regardless, on principle. For a moment, Snow regretted killing the boy. She couldn’t have been older than he was, as old to him as Sam was to her. If she pistol whipped him across the face, would he have run away? Or would it embolden him, the way he had been when he thought her gun was empty.
Snow nicked a finger in her distracted haze. “Sorry!” She said, careful to keep her bleeding finger from the veggies she was cutting, and sucked at the blood.
It wasn’t fair that the raiders could be so strong, so feared, they were just bullies who managed to get their hands on old military-grade weapons. And yet, they were allowed to carve out their own territories in Seattle. Winds howled as night approached and Snow thought of the Wardens.
Unlike the raiders whose lives revolved around fighting and pillaging, the Wardens had taken it upon themselves to provide security to the city. Ordinary wastelanders could live in peace in their territories, when they could have become raiders in their own right. The Wardens and their coalition army should be fighting their enemy in the South soon enough, if they weren’t already, and Snow hoped they came back home safe and sound.