Chapter 11: Lost Roads. Part 2

La Quilla South. White Woods.

13:00:00hrs.

Gwen (Jinx): Why do they have the right to eat more than me?!

Doger (Eleven): We told you, woman!

Lunchtime had begun with a heated discussion. Nothing more, nothing less.

After searching through a few containers, the group had accumulated whatever supplies they could find inside: packages of cheap candy, canned food, dried meat, vegetables and fruits that were close to rotting… Nothing truly abundant, fresh, or appetizing. Each item inside the containers meant they would have something to eat for a new day, but it was also a reminder of how much they had lost the night before. They had to find more as soon as possible if they wanted to fill the bellies of the large group.

Therefore, it could be deduced that the distribution would be fair and measured in the face of scarcity; however, divided opinions arose regarding how to distribute them reasonably.

Doger, who would be in charge of the kitchen, had let slip some personal suggestions in this regard that didn't please everyone.

Doger (Eleven): Earlene, you tell her.

Earlene (Bee): I think... It's okay, right? Not all of us will do the same anyway.

The young Earlene Gresham was on her friend's side. She was carrying plastic bags full of food in her arms, food that would soon be used.

Gwen (Jinx): It's unfair!

Izzy had noticed the exchange nearby. She was busy sorting through and sorting the retorts. She didn't want to waste a second on a sporadic argument.

Izzy (Eve): We're in the middle of the woods. I doubt I should remind you —she indirectly asked for silence.

Gwen (Jinx): But it's not fair that you eat more.

Fixing her eyes on the supplies, she immediately knew the cause of the conflict.

Izzy (Eve): We're assigning chores. When I asked you, you indicated you'd rather stay behind than explore.

Gwen (Jinx): Yeah, so what? —she responded aggressively.

Izzy (Eve): If you're not willing to put in the effort for the group, you're bound to eat less than those who are.

Gwen (Jinx): I don't care.

She crossed both arms, wouldn't take no for an answer.

Realizing she wouldn't be able to make her understand, Izzy simply rolled her eyes and nodded to invite a member, Robert Anderson, who was sitting waiting for his ration.

He approached, unwilling to participate in the problem.

Robert (Hawk): What's going on now?

Gwen (Jinx): Daddy, they're saying we'll eat less just because they want us to. It's completely unfair.

Izzy (Eve): …

Doger (Eleven): It's simple. If you don't work, you don't eat. It makes perfect sense to me if you ask me —the boy added.

Gwen (Jinx): If someone works more, it's because they want to, not because they're forced to. And that shouldn't determine how much they eat.

Doger (Eleven): That doesn't make the slightest bit of sense —responded—. You're saying that as if we could afford to do nothing, sit around scratching our bellies while staring at the sky all day.

If their relationship as a group began with dividing food, the group would split. This would mean someone would start to feel less important, thus causing a loss of cohesion. It wasn't an entirely invalid argument, however; rewarding members with extra rations would motivate them to participate more, and Izzy was more inclined to favor that approach.

The man in the suit just crossed his arms. He knew it was an indisputable point, but since it was his own daughter, he couldn't openly agree to oppose it.

Izzy (Eve): There is a solution, Mr. Robert.

Robert (Hawk): What would that solution be? —the man asked.

Izzy (Eve): We don't have enough food for the journey, so we'll have to make several stops along the way north to explore the settlements. If your daughter…

Gwen (Jinx): Hello? I'm right here. Here.

Izzy (Eve): …If Gwen is willing to be part of these explorations; she'll receive more rations at each meal —she maintained her composure.

The father pretended to take a moment to think it over, then turned to his daughter. It wasn't a big deal, he thought.

Robert (Hawk): Then it's up to you, Gwen. If you help, you'll eat more. I have to take care of your mother.

The girl disliked the proposal, but there was no one else to support her position.

Gwen (Jinx): Okay, fine! It's just going out to get things, right? —she said reluctantly.

Izzy took a breastplate out of her bag and handed it to the grumpy young woman. She felt the added weight, immediately arching her body.

Izzy (Eve): Start by trying this on —she said, her expression still unchanged throughout the conversation.

Gwen (Jinx): ...

Doger (Eleven): So be it —the boy declared, satisfied with the conclusion— Come on, Earlene... I mean 'Bee'. Let's get lunch ready.

Earlene (Bee): Yeah. And... your nicknames are kind of weird.

Doger (Eleven): Pretty cool, huh?

The slanting shadows of the tree trunks announced the approach of dusk.

The air felt cool, without the heaviness of the fog or humidity, and the faint sweet scent of wood from the hundreds of trees stretching for miles around.

The morning had passed mostly peacefully, and as afternoon approached, the group continued to complete each of their planned tasks without much haste. Since they were unable to get enough sleep, they agreed to reserve the day to get organized so they could leave the next morning.

The sun was beginning to set, turning the sky a dull gray, with scattered clouds slowly creeping across the horizon. At that time of day, the air was growing chilly, forcing them to consider lighting a fire; however, there was one important task to be done first.

Garwin (Cross): Hm... I see we don't have enough replicas for everyone.

Sein (Tag): I think they should only be given to those who will be exploring, right?

Nisha (Dice): You're right, Sein, but the others can't be unprotected, even if they're not participating.

They had gathered around the truck, now parked closer to the cabin. Some old members, some new, were in charge of distributing the equipment; the replicas.

Garwin (Cross): I still have the football uniforms. Izzy still wears hers.

Sein (Tag): Seriously, I don't know how you managed to get them all the way from home...

Garwin (Cross): Heh, Xiomara wanted me to throw them away, but it was worth it; they're exactly what we need.

Nisha (Dice): How do we distribute it...? —with a pencil in hand, he tapped his notebook repeatedly.

Garwin (Cross): It's best to take into account each person's physical ability, my friend. Gitta can keep his armor; he's an athlete.

Nisha (Dice): You should wear one, Garwin —he said honestly.

Sein (Tag): Then I'll wear one too.

Garwin (Cross): As for the others, we'll have them try on the sports guards, and cover them with whatever parts are available. Really, with whatever is available. It's not like this is the time to worry about fashion.

Kael (Fury): I'm fine with that. If that's the case, I'll wear some leftover armor —he chimed in, switching from looking at the replicas to the rest of the members—. I can handle the extra weight.

Garwin (Cross): That means you'll have to go to the front. Are you okay with that?

Kael (Fury): ...Yes.

Garwin (Cross): Good. As for weapons...

He dug his hand a little deeper into the trinkets in the container. After rummaging around, he extracted a long staff. No, in fact, it was a pole, a large Naginata to be precise. Its enormous blade curved like a crescent moon reflected the light, a weapon that combined the agility of a sword with the reach of a spear.

Sein (Tag): Um, isn't it sharp? —he asked, concerned by the weapon's long edge.

Garwin (Cross): No, it's not sharp —he looked closely—. Just like Audrey told us. It's thick.

Iker (Guru): They're for competitions, not for knocking your brains out —the old man clarified with a hint of mockery.

Garwin (Cross): I'm still convinced that with enough force, it could do it. Use them carefully.

Nisha (Dice): …

Garwin tried to hand the weapon to Gitta, but Gitta quickly recoiled.

Gitta (Ace): N-No, thank you. I already have mine.

When he wore the armor in the warehouse, his waist included a thin, one-handed bastard sword. It was still pre-fitted there.

He hadn't unsheathed it yet.

Iker (Guru): You should include a shield with that sword, son. A buckler would be appropriate.

Garwin (Cross): In that case, I'll keep the shaft. I've grown to like it.

Sein (Tag): Is there one left for me?

His friend rummaged through the containers to check.

Nisha (Dice): Some bows, arrows, staff, a... stiletto, a pair of gauntlets, maces, shafts, a shield, and these are...

Kael (Fury): The glove-like bands are called Cestus.

Sein (Tag): Really? These are Cestus too? —he pointed to a couple more inside the container— Ugh, it still stinks.

The strange objects resembled gauntlets at first glance, but their appearance was curious indeed. Forged from steel, they were distinguished by their multiple nut-like protrusions on their surface. Their purpose: to catch bladed weapons that might impact the surface. If that weren't enough, a sharp and thick basalt "nail" protruded from the tip of each glove, deployable claws nearly 20 centimeters long capable of cutting, tearing, and shattering with brute force.

These gloves had been modified to serve not only to protect the wearer but also as lethal hand-to-hand combat weapons, even suitable for use against common thieves' knives.

The precise origin of these mysterious devices was unknown but it became a characteristic weapon of the province.

Kael (Fury): Hm, I've never seen them before. Or maybe they weren't used as combat weapons at all.

Iker (Guru): They're War Claws, guys. They're basically experimental equipment designed to promote hand-to-hand combat against edged weapons, using nothing more and nothing less than your own fists. Do you see these button-like pieces? A sword would be trapped underneath, impossible to extract without compromising yourself.

Kael (Fury): It looks like a mere extravagant gauntlet. I doubt it has any practical use beyond its original purpose.

Iker (Guru): Don't underestimate it, Kael.

Approaching the young Nisha, Iker borrowed the pen he was carrying.

Iker (Guru): Even a worn-out pen like this, in experienced hands, could take your life in an instant.

Kael (Fury): Hm... I suppose you're right.

Shaun (K): I'll use them —the boy took both gloves—. Unlike you, I'm not a lunatic looking to commit a crime just because of the circumstances.

Nisha (Dice): N-No, no. We'll use them to scare them away, just to scare them away, Shaun —he tried to soothe his annoyance.

Kael (Fury): Besides, a martial artist trains only to defend himself.

Shaun (K): Yes... Of course...

Kael (Fury): ...I have no experience with these... weapons. Handling them like a Cestus should be enough for you. Each of us has trained different disciplines that we've learned over the years. Of course, we don't expect you to master them in a few days. If you have a good foundation, you'll be able to, at the very least, wield a sword decently.

Haeri (Holyday): Isn't it easier to carry real weapons? —the girl asked, raising an eyebrow— I mean a gun.

Kael rummaged through the container again, this time extracting a long sword from it before answering.

Kael (Fury): There are no firearms in this nation. They were banned years ago. It's true you come from abroad —he handed the blade to the girl—. Women should use weapons held in both hands.

A blade almost a meter and a half long, a river of burnished steel, and a tanned leather hilt twisted firmly around the metal. It allowed for a solid grip with both hands, making it ideal for those lacking great strength, or so Kael thought.

Haeri (Holyday): … (I won't even go exploring) —she thought.

Kael (Fury): No offense. The reason lies in that it's more practical for you.

Gitta (Ace): I prefer you have this, Haeri.

Gitta immediately took the long sword from her companion's hands and, in return, handed her the buckler and bastard sword he was carrying.

Haeri (Holyday): Uh, it's fine, but… I don't see the difference… At least it's lighter. And is this better to carry? —She looked at the small shield on either side in confusion.

Gitta just glanced directly at Kael at his side. He retracted his gaze.

Kael (Fury): …If you strap the shield to your forearm and carry the sword with both hands at once, you'd gain additional protection and retain good maneuverability.

Iker (Guru): At the cost of reach, but it's better than a heavy two-handed sword for a young girl.

Gitta (Ace): We're only carrying all this to deter and scare away —the boy clarified—. That's what we agreed upon, sir.

It had been decided that Haeri would not be one of the designated explorers; however, that meant she wouldn't be provided with equipment for her own protection. Hearing that and not agreeing, Gitta's actions made it seem as though she would indeed scout, even though it was only a facade to keep the replicas.

The old man shrugged his shoulders and stared at him.

Iker (Guru): And you yourselves also said that anything could happen out there. We can't expect luck to always be on our side.

Intimidation. They hoped to be able to deal with any threat that came their way by using it. Because who in their right mind would dare mess with a man equipped with full medieval armor and a sword in the modern era? His appearance would be enough to classify him as a dangerous maniac.

As for the Dreamers, of whom their knowledge was limited, they were still sentient beings of fear, danger, and pain.

Gitta had witnessed it with his own eyes in the truck that night. He was certain of it.

They were terrified.

So, perhaps, it shouldn't be unreasonable to consider dissuading them without involving violence, if it guaranteed the protection of their own safety.

Iker (Guru): Over the years, you will learn that in this life, the only certainty is death.

Having spent a long time on the task, the man retired to rest his aging body on a nearby bench.

Gitta (Ace): … (Even so…)

Nisha (Dice): It's… best to finish for today. It seems there's no other topic left to discuss. Although…

One person was missing. Audrey Kissandra.

Audrey stood apart from the rest. She had alternated her time between sleeping on the platform and staring at the trees from the driver's seat of the truck. Occasionally, she had been seen lurking among the trunks. It had been that way ever since everyone arrived into the forest.

She hadn't eaten a single bite, or taken a single sip. She was just following the same fruitless routine in a perpetual cycle.

Now, she lay prostrate on the same platform, her head bowed and her eyes staring into nothingness.

The rest of the group had given her space, but they were starting to worry.

Garwin exhaled deeply.

Garwin (Cross): ...I'll go talk to her.

Nisha (Dice): Um... Can you please take her something to eat?

Garwin (Cross): I will, my friend.

Kael (Fury): Don't forget we'll be honoring the deceased tonight... Try to convince her to participate.

Without another thought, Garwin grabbed a couple of rations from a bench and headed toward where the girl had taken refuge.

The others watched him go. And soon they returned to their own concerns.

Sein (Tag): Damn, he took the candies... Guys, did you know that if paper were digestible, it would be less harmful than eating sugar?

Kael (Fury): ...What are you saying?

-[Ø]-

Time continued its course.

In silence, the members of the group wandered back and forth across the white field, the white trees hiding their presence. Not only that, they were out in the open, after all, on a long journey north that separated them from civilization.

Unlike the villages of the past, while there were no city amenities, there was no electricity, clean water, a comfortable bed, or the entertainment of big cities. Nor were there people, the Dreamers... They were isolated, but even better, far from danger.

In the quiet solitude, the group milled about, some sleeping, others talking, most clasping their palms in front of mounds of white earth, poor representations of graves, to pray for those who had died in the recent incidents.

At dusk, behind a makeshift bonfire that provided a glimmer of light and warmth, Gitta Vintana watched the passersby.

Each one after the other offered their condolences, nodded, clasped their hands, and followed suit. It would become routine.

Gitta watched them from a distance because he didn't want to participate.

It bothered him. It frustrated him. It made him uncomfortable. It was a complex and intertwined feeling to describe. He felt responsible, felt empathy, and at the same time, they were nothing more than distant emotions difficult to keep close.

He felt disinterested. Or he didn't. But he was aware, above all, aware.

The boy raised and looked at his arm once more. The metal gauntlet on his forearm gleamed in the flames of the campfire, and that perfect reflection was distorted by the dents from its bite.

In his other hand, he held a bottle of water, the only drink they had, in a clear plastic bottle that allowed its contents to be seen in the light of the campfire.

The contents of the bottle were visible up close. Hundreds of tiny particles swirling in the air. However, what caught his attention most was a faint reddish tinge, almost imperceptible, easily mistaken for traces of detergent, sewage sludge, or other common impurities. Drinkable water, not potable.

Gitta (Ace): …

Later, his gaze lifted, catching a glimpse of certain members of the group around the truck. They were Garwin, Audrey, and Izzy. Hours had passed, and Garwin seemed unable to get Audrey to react. However, this had changed when Izzy joined the conversation.

It was unknown what she had said, or done, to convince her, but it worked to such an extent that the depressed girl would now voluntarily join the line in front of the graves.

They nodded, joined hands, and left. The same routine would be repeated.

In contrast, the young Izzy went in the opposite direction from the group, heading alone to the cabin, carrying a bottle in her hand.

There was no better opportunity to clarify the suspicions that had plagued him for some time. Therefore, the boy carefully avoided attracting the attention of the others, stood up, and followed the trail. A quick visit to the cabin wouldn't raise suspicions.

Silently, he parted the wooden doors and closed them behind him.

Inside the small cabin, several of the supplies had been stored, especially the groceries. And in a corner between the benches, the young woman's slim, short figure stood out among them.

Gitta (Ace): Eve.

It was the first time he'd ever used a nickname for someone. Why did he decide to do it at that moment?

Izzy flinched like a child caught doing something she shouldn't. Even for a calm and controlled young woman like her, a reaction was a natural reaction.

She removed the hand pressing the lever of the water dispenser in front of her and slowly turned around. Her face was tense, a frown etched between her bright eyes hidden behind her dark bangs.

What's hiding in the water?

The boy made sure to lock the door once more before asking seriously.

Gitta (Ace): What... is in the water?

Izzy (Eve): …

To be continued…