Michael watched her leave, feeling conflicted between the desire to follow his psychopath's twisted suggestions and the guilt of even considering them. He took a deep breath, trying to push those thoughts away, and focused on his original plan.
He needed to find a way out of this village and continue his journey to reach the capital city. But for now, he decided to accept Leslie's invitation for dinner and gather more information about the village and its surroundings. Maybe he could find some useful contacts or resources to help him on his journey. He was most definitely not staying because of his grumbling stomach.
He couldn't help but wonder about Leslie's husband. Surely he wasn't happy with a naked man under his roof? How long would he be tolerated? Michael tried to push those thoughts away and focused on the present, reminding himself that he needed to gather more information before making any decisions.
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The time for dinner came soon enough, announced by Leslie bringing in his clothes, now as clean as they were gonna get without cleaning detergent.
"I am sorry that I couldn't fix the tears, but the only thread and needles we have are needed in case someone gets seriously injured," she said apologetically.
"N-no need, that's already more than kind of you," she started to remind Michael of his mother, a dangerous similarity from someone he was attracted to. He decided not to ponder on that.
She gave him a radiant smile. "Now if you excuse me I need to help my husband finish dinner," she proclaimed before making her way out of the room.
Sighing, Michael disentangled himself from the mess of covers on the bed, carefully checking his body. His cuts and scrapes have all been washed and treated. Where once his thigh had an open wound were now bandages, wrapped tightly around his leg and held together by a crude metal clip. His calf, where a patch of skin was missing was treated in the same way.
Getting dressed in his ragged clothes, half of them obtained from the poor man that almost killed him, he felt a sense of regret at the events of the past days. He had not intended for harm to befall any of the men he followed, yet, three of them were now dead. At his hands to boot.
His thoughts turned to the red-haired youth he had abandoned near the gates to that hellhole, wondering if he made it out. Wondering if he went through the effort of finding all of his fallen comrades. Wondering what he thought of him as he found their bodies, desecrated and mutilated.
Michael shook his head clear of his depressing thoughts. It was important to focus on the future, rather than dwell on the past. It was a mistake he kept on repeating. He would commit no not commit anymore atrocities like that, and neither would Andrei, of that he would make sure.
Pulling on his boots, he was once again grateful for the sturdy piece of apparel. They have served him reliably even in this new world, where the main mode of travel was by foot.
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Michael made his way towards the kitchen, but he couldn't help but overhear Leslie and her husband whispering to each other.
"...I don't know how I feel about this. Bringing a stranger into our home," Leslie's husband said in a hushed tone.
"I know, but he was injured and needed our help. And he's not just any stranger, he's from the city. Maybe he can give us some news or help us with trade," Leslie replied, trying to convince her husband.
They fell silent as he walked in, causing Michael to feel a bit uneasy.
"How is the patient feeling?" Leslie asked with a warm smile, gesturing for him to take a seat.
"I'm feeling better, thank you," Michael replied, feeling relieved by the kindness in Leslie's voice.
"Michael, I'd like to introduce you to John," Leslie said, motioning towards the man sitting next to her.
"Nice to meet you," John said, extending his hand for a handshake.
"Likewise," Michael replied, noticing the way John looked at Leslie with a mixture of love and admiration. It was clear to Michael that the couple had a deep bond, and he couldn't help but feel a tinge of envy.
Although it made him envious, it also gave him hope that he might one day find someone like Leslie who would care for him and love him unconditionally. However, for now, he needed to concentrate on his journey and gather information.
As they sat down to eat, Michael listened intently to Leslie and her husband's stories about the village and its history. He learned that the village was called Fermilab Village, after the laboratories people here used to have worked in.
"I used to work at the labs myself, before they shut down. That's how I met Leslie," her husband said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.
Michael was intrigued. "Do you know if there's any way to get to Chicago from here?" he asked.
Leslie's husband shook his head. "Before, I would have simply recommend taking the highway, ha! Now, the only way to the city is through the countryside, but it could be dangerous. We only keep in touch with people in Warenville, just to the southeast of here. I would take the road there and ask the people there for further directions."
Michael nodded, taking note of the information. "Thank you for your help. I'll make sure to repay your kindness in any way I can," he said sincerely.
As they ate, Michael engaged in small talk, asking about the village and its surroundings. Leslie and John were gracious hosts, sharing information about the village and its history. Michael listened intently, trying to absorb as much information as possible.
As they were eating dinner, Leslie's daughter ran in through the door, laughing as she ran to her mother. Leslie took a single at her mud stained clothes before she started choking on her meal.
"S-Sarah?! What happened?" she exclaimed.
"I was playing with the boys!" she happily proclaimed, raising her mud stained hands into the air.
Leslie sent her off to wash her hands after which she sat next to her mother and listened intently to the conversation, occasionally chiming in with her own thoughts and questions.
Michael couldn't help but smile at the sight of the little girl, who reminded him of his own younger sister. He had always been protective of her, and he missed her dearly.
"Mom, can I show Michael my room after dinner?" the little girl asked, looking up at Leslie with hopeful eyes.
Leslie struggled not to smile, instead her brows furrowed into a mask of authority, "Not today, sweetie. He needs to rest. and you need a bath."
The little girl frowned with disappointment and sat back down, dejectedly playing with her dinner. It reminded him of the times his sister was her age.
After dinner, Leslie and John said their goodnights and as they were about to leave, the little girl turned to Michael and said, "Can we play together tomorrow?"
Michael smiled at her, touched by her kindness, and replied, "I would love that, thank you."
As Michael retired to his room, he noticed that the bed had been made and a small fire was burning in the fireplace. The room felt much more welcoming now, and Michael felt a sense of comfort that he hadn't felt in a long time.
He sat down on the bed, staring into the flickering flames of the fire, lost in thought. He thought about his family, his friends, and everything he had lost. It was a painful reminder of the past, but he knew that he couldn't dwell on it forever.
He needed to focus on the present and the future. He needed to find a way out of this village and continue his journey to the capital city. He needed to find a purpose for his life and make things right.
Lying in bed, Michael pondered his next steps. He had to find a way to continue his journey and leave the village. But for the time being, he needed to rest and regain his strength.
As he sat there lost in thought, his eyes started to droop, and the soft rain tapping against the window lulled him to sleep. His dreams were filled with the faces of the men he had killed, and he woke up in a cold sweat.
He sat up in bed, feeling disoriented and confused. He tried to shake off the feeling, reminding himself that he needed to focus on his journey. He got up and made his way to the window, looking out at the village. It was a peaceful sight, with the stars twinkling in the sky and the moon casting a soft glow on everything.
He took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm wash over him. He knew that he needed to keep moving forward, no matter how difficult it may be. He was determined to make things right and find his purpose in life.
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Next day, Leslie insisted on showing Michael around the village, introducing him to some of the locals and pointing out the various landmarks.
As he made his way around, he witnessed the struggles of the people who had sent back in time, struggling to get used to it. He saw women carrying buckets of water in their hands, men chopping wood; preparing for winter, and children playing in the streets.
It was a different world, and Michael realized that he would need to change as well. So far he has taken this as a survival exercise, rather than the new reality of the world. People here weren't so naive.
Michael felt a sense of community here, something he hadn't felt in a long time. It made him question his original plan of leaving immediately.
As they made their way back to Leslie's house, Michael couldn't help but feel conflicted. He knew he had to continue on his journey, but the thought of leaving this village and its people behind was difficult. He wanted to stay for a few more days, to gather more information and maybe even help out with some tasks around the village. After all, he owed them for saving his life.
On the other hand he didn't want to burden Leslie's family, while her husband has accepted him, for now, that would change. If he stayed he would keep eating out of their supplies, letting the ones he had at home rot, or be looted by the rioters, returning to nothing.
He would leave tomorrow, but for now there was still one little girl he promised to play with.
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The sun was shining bright, and a gentle breeze blew through the village. Michael had promised to play with Sarah, and he intended to keep his word.
He found a group of children playing near the village green, chasing each other and laughing, Sarah among them. As he approached, they looked up at him curiously, sizing him up with their young eyes.
As soon as Sarah's eyes landed on him, she ran as if there were wolves on her feet. "Hello, Mister Michael!"
"Hey there," Michael said, crouching down to her level. "I promised I'd play with you, didn't I? Are you up for it?"
She whooped excitedly, the children nodding eagerly, grinning from ear to ear. One of them, a little girl with pigtails, handed him a worn-out ball, and they all gathered around him.
Michael looked around for a suitable spot to play, and he saw a grassy area nearby. "Let's head over there," he suggested, and they all followed him.
As they walked, Michael chatted with the children, asking them about their names and their hobbies. They were shy at first, but as they warmed up to him, they started to chatter excitedly.
When they reached the grassy area, Michael took his place in the field and signaled to the children to spread out. "Okay, who wants to catch first?" he asked, looking around.
One of the boys stepped forward eagerly, and Michael tossed the ball to him. The boy caught it with a grin, and the game began.
For the next hour, they played the simple game, with Michael teaching the children different throws and techniques. He was impressed with their quick learning and their enthusiasm.
As they played, Michael couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and contentment. For a moment, he forgot about his mission, his guilt, and the world outside. He was simply throwing a ball with a group of children, and it felt wonderful.
When the game finally came to an end, Michael high-fived the children and thanked them for playing with him. Leslie's daughter hugged him tightly and told him he was the best thrower ever.
Throughout all of this, Michael wondered about the strange silence within him, his prisoner unusually quiet. He expected his to shout at him for even thinking of resting or spending time playing with kids, yet, no such thing happened. He must have been up to something, but Michael refused to ruin his remaining time here trying to find out what that was.
As Michael walked back to Leslie's home, he felt a renewed sense of hope. Perhaps there was still goodness in this world, and he could help preserve it. For now, though, he was content to have made someone's day a little brighter.