The frontier town of Blackwater jutted into the sky. A collection of sand-stained wood assembled into what resembled buildings. Sheridan’s eyes widened as his eyes beheld it. Limping on his makeshift cane, grunting with every step, he observed the town that was vibrant the last he remembered it. Now half of the buildings were ramshackle, abandoned and boarded up. The other half had scorch marks and bullet holes in them. The rest of the original gang noticed this as well, but Lun looked confused as always, and decided to ask a question that was bound to be met with a stern response.

“Wasn’t this supposed to be a famous bordertown? I heard that it was an important staging ground against the Fifth Scar Invasion. Even so, since there’s no trains that run out here, it’s an important stop for those looking to travel… so uh.. Yeah, what the hell happened?” Lun said.

Sheridan gave Lun the stern look that was expected, but it was Oya that responded first. It was a quick, snappy statement that came as a shock to everyone who hadn’t heard her speak in days.

“There’s obviously something very wrong you idiot. Sheridan, why did we let this buffoon with us again?” She said plainly.

Underneath her thick clothing, something shifted and undulated rhythmically. Her feet were securely planted in the ground, shoulders tensed up. It was the mark of a predator prepared for the danger that they sensed was around them. The Custodian who was still carrying an exhausted Abel backed up from the group and a series of whirring noises emanated from in. The group looked around everywhere. Jaqri raised his lunchbox sized fists into the air in a brawler’s stance.

The cocking of a shotgun echoed behind them, and as the group whipped around, there were already three people behind them. The one in the middle was a tall woman that looked to be in her mid to late 40’s. Salt and pepper hair hung down from beneath a sun hat. Pastoral clothing hugged her frame loosely, emaciated ribs poked out from underneath the clothing.

To her flank were two children, a boy and a girl. They were wearing similar clothing to that of the woman, but the boy was dirty from head to toe. Smudged with streaks of black grease on his hands that were gripping a gun that was way too big for his body. It’s crystalline barrel sagged towards the front as he desperately tried to hold it. The girl to his side was older than the boy, looking to be in her late teens, a tight blonde bun was tied up. Her hands grasped her gun well, and Sheridan could see there was something in her eyes. The eyes that have killed someone. When you end a life, a piece of their soul lays dormant in your eyes, tormenting you forever and weighing you down.

Sheridan looked to Oya, putting his hand up to try and get her to calm herself. Her teeth were beginning to show, and her bloodlust began to storm within her. His eyes silently spoke to her, reminding her of what happened last time she tried to fight in the daytime. She lowered her hands slowly, but was still prepared for a fight if it needed to be.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Now, we’re not looking for a fight. We were coming here to get some rest and look for some work, but it looks like that’s not quite the case here is it?” Sheridan said.

The woman nodded slowly before speaking in a weak tone. “There’s nothing left here. We’ve been abandoned by everyone. The monsters come every few nights, with their grotesque figures. They take our men, not knowing what they do with them. We’ve sent so many requests to the Army, to the Holy City, everything.. No one gives a shit. So best you be on your way, ya hear?”

Jaqri spoke up, and when his voice bellowed out, it unnerved the woman. He realized she had probably never seen one of his people before, he should have expected it by now, he always forgets that he’s an outcast. “What monsters are you talking about? Things from the Scar? I was under the assumption that the Star Forts surround the Scar. There’s no real en masse monster attacks. A few get out here and there, wandering around.” He looked over to Sheridan, who remembered the attack on Last Hope.

“Well, you’re wrong Mr. Hairy.” The woman responded in a quivering tone. “We face this reality every day. More border towns face it. It’s a reality of life now. Draught, disease, monsters. The dream we were sold when we were given money and a guarantee of land out here.”

“Is there a place we can stay for the night though?” Sheridan insisted.

“Is there something in your ears? It’s dangerous here. If you wanna be an idiot, there’s a hotel here that you can stay the night in. Not like anyone comes here to visit and the proprietor got taken into the night a few months back. It’s ramshackle. If y’all try anything stupid.” She motioned her gun towards the group. “I won’t hesitate.”

“We understand m’am. We’ll be no trouble. We just want to rest and get out of here.” Lun interjected.

She nodded, but didn’t lower her firearm. Neither did the children. The nature of their demeanor and physical condition unnerved Sheridan. A pang of guilt washed over him as he took this as a sign they were able to go without conflict, and began limping towards the ramshackle building that had a crooked sign of “Hotel” on it. There was nothing they could do to help these people, he thought. They were all too wounded. If that metal creature was right about what Abel and Lun had found, they had more important work to do. Helping these people was just not a part of the greater good.

Jaqri looked behind at the group as Sheridan walked in front of him. Oya’s gaze met his, locking eye contact. There was a twinge of trouble in her eyes. She looked back down at the ground and began following behind Sheridan to the hotel. Jaqri turned towards the Custodian and Abel. Abel still laid within its arms, shivering violently at moments. Cold sweat dribbled down his skin. The ink that was burned into his flesh was starting to dry, and when Jaqri stared at it for too long, his mind began to feel like it was being penetrated, but also coming apart at the seams. It’s as if someone was driving a railroad spike into his skull. His head shook before speaking to them.

“We’re going to go rest. We want Abel to be able to recuperate more. He won’t be able to do that on the road. We’ll need to be careful.” The sasquatch said.

The Custodian nodded in solemn agreement. “Very well, I shall bring the Conduit with me.”

The Custodian followed along the group, past the woman and her children. After the group was past them, Sheridan turned around to face them. At this point their guns were still trained on them, but in a more relaxed stance. He smiled briefly, bowing his head.

“I didn’t catch your name, miss. I’m Sheridan.” He said plainly.

“Clara. That’s misses to you.” Clara responded with a touch of sadness in her voice. “These are my children Twigg and Barnett. Take care now. Be seein ya.”