The Ruins Box Set

by T. W. Piperbrook

  As she stood, she was surprised to find herself more rested than normal—a rare occurrence, and probably a result of sleeping indoors for the first time in as long as she could remember. How strange it was to awaken in a place that wasn’t damp, like the ship in her settlement, or bitter cold like most places in the wild.

  Outside, she heard children playing, probably the ones who had disturbed them. She stood and walked toward the window.

  She was still hesitant about the people in The Arches.

  Cracking the shutters, she peered outside, wondering if Bray had found breakfast. She was surprised to find that he’d only gotten as far as a nearby house, chatting it up with a woman she didn’t recognize. He waved his hands, probably telling some exaggerated tale.

  Kirby wasn’t surprised, but something about what he was doing angered her. William was sleeping fitfully in a corner while Bray should be off getting food.

  A cough drew her attention behind her, where William was sitting up and holding his head. She crossed the room and crouched next to him.

  “It’s hot in here,” William said as he woke, wiping some beads of perspiration from his brow.

  “You’re sweating.” Kirby’s brow creased as she felt his head.

  “Is Bray here?”

  “He’s outside,” Kirby said.

  Children’s laughter floated through the windows. “I want to go outside,” William said. “I want to see what’s happening.”

  “You need to rest,” Kirby said. “You have a fever again.”

  “I want to explore the islands,” William argued, looking as if he was on the verge of some anger she didn’t understand. “I want to do it before…” His voice trailed off and he looked away, fighting back tears.

  “Before what?” Kirby watched him as she tried to figure out what he was saying.

  “I want to do it before the spore takes over.” William’s face grew hard as he tried to fight back his emotions. “Or this sickness takes my final breaths.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Kirby said, but her face betrayed her doubt.

  “I feel worse than yesterday,” William admitted, as he coughed.

  “It will take time to recover from this illness.”

  William shook his head. “What if I don’t have time?” William looked like he was letting out something he’d been holding back for a while. “I saw my future with the demons. I roamed the wild with them. I lived with them for longer than it took us to travel from Brighton to here, and I did things that I won’t ever be able to forget. I still see some of those things in my dreams, or when I’m lying under my blankets, trying to sleep.” William took a breath. “I chose to leave the demons, but one day I might not have that awareness. Or maybe this sickness will take that choice away, and I’ll be lucky.”

  Kirby started to respond one way, but stopped herself. Lies wouldn’t help either of them. “I can’t say I haven’t had those same thoughts, William. The spore is a curse that neither of us will be rid of. But that doesn’t mean we have to give up. We might have many years before we have to talk about such things.”

  Some of the anger faded from William’s face as more laughter came from outside. “I never dreamed a place like these islands could exist,” he said, waving his hand at the window. “I’ve never seen a bridge like the one we crossed over yesterday, and I certainly never imagined that another town existed outside of Brighton. I want to explore it. I want to see what’s outside. I don’t want to spend a whole day wasting away in a small room.”

  “You should rest.”

  “I’ll sleep early tonight. Or I can rest more later this afternoon.”

  Kirby sighed as she saw the hope on William’s face. “Why don’t you sleep for a little while longer and try to get rid of this fever? If you’re feeling better this afternoon, we’ll take a walk to the stream that Bartholomew and Jonathan told us about. We can take the horses.” It was the most she could promise him. “For now, lie back down, and I’ll see what I can do about breakfast.”

  Chapter 36: Bray

  After watching Jaydra disappear, Bray saw the guards slip through the trees, giving a few furtive glances over their shoulder as they disappeared. Filthy pig scratchers.

  If Bray wasn’t worried about raising more attention, and possibly a battle that he couldn’t handle, he might’ve followed them. Instead, he headed quickly back to the house, where Kirby and William were waiting. Kirby opened the door before he got to the threshold.

  “Is William awake?” he asked.

  Kirby stepped out and shut the door behind her. “I thought you were getting breakfast,” she said.

  “I got sidetracked,” Bray said.

  “I noticed.”

  “You’re jealous,” he said with a smirk.

  “I don’t have time for jealousy, and I certainly don’t envy any woman that talks to you.” Kirby glared at him. “But William is sick with a fever that isn’t getting better. He needs to get his strength up.”

  “I know,” Bray said, looking around. “We need to talk about something else first.”

  “Can we talk about it out here, so we don’t disturb William?”

  Taking another look around and ensuring no one was within earshot, Bray said, “I don’t like the people here. Something is wrong about this place.”

  “Is your problem with the place, or with the woman?” Kirby gave him an annoyed glance. “Maybe the woman didn’t give you enough attention.”

  Trying to clear up the misconception, Bray said, “The woman has nothing to do with it. I was trying to get information. Some men were watching me while I was talking. They left when I saw them. Maybe we should stick with our original plan, leave, and go get the guns.”

  “The guns?” Kirby spat the words, shaking her head in disgust. “Are we still stuck on those?”

  “I’m starting to feel trapped in here. It’s a feeling I don’t like.”

  Kirby looked around. Not seeing any of the guards he was speaking about, she said, “You know what I think? I think maybe you feel trapped with a sick boy. I think maybe whatever fantasy you had in rescuing him is gone, and maybe you’re looking for an excuse to get back to the wild.”

  “The wild?” Bray laughed off the silly idea. “You think I’d choose a rock as a pillow over a warm house? Not in the winter.”

  “I’m not sure what you’d choose anymore.” Kirby’s disapproving look reminded Bray of the argument they’d had in the woods. “Ever since you saw me with the guns, that’s all you’ve been able to think about. If you want the guns so bad, go get them. I’ll be here taking care of the sick boy you convinced me to save.”

  Kirby went inside and slammed the door. Bray clenched his fists, considering barging back in, taking William, and heading off on his own. He didn’t need a settler woman telling him what to do.

  Her Tech Magic was the only thing that stopped him.

  He wasn’t about to get shot again.

  Before he could make a bad situation worse, he stormed off and headed down the dirt pathway.

  Chapter 37: Bray

  Bray strode down the dirt path, ignoring the stares of a few people who had seen part of the altercation, or saw the anger on his face. He hadn’t even taken a horse. But he wasn’t turning around. He was tired of Kirby and her bullheaded opinions. Ever since he’d met her, she’d been trying to prove she was smarter than him. Perhaps he and William were better off without her.

  He stormed past children playing games and a few men carrying crude swords in tattered scabbards.

  Several times, he thought about turning around and heading back, but his anger kept him going.

  He looked back over his shoulders, but the guards he’d seen before were gone. He kept an eye out for more; almost wishing he’d run into them, but he saw no one. Soon he was alone and some of his anger had faded. He headed southwest on the dirt path, opposite the direction of the bridge where they’d come in, walking fast enough to rid some of his aggression.

&nb
sp; After awhile, the wooden hunter’s houses segued to stone houses built around tree roots. It seemed the Ancients—or whoever had originally built the dwellings—had constructed the houses on whatever flat parts of ground they could find.

  The island was thick and long enough that he didn’t have a good grasp on the area yet, and looking left and right, he couldn’t see the river. He headed in the direction he thought the coast might be.

  It took him a second to figure out he was heading for the second island.

  His anger toward Kirby—and his need to get away—had turned into a mission. For a moment, he considered that the second island and The Important Ones were a fictional story told to peasants, a tale told to keep them working, much like the nonsense spewed in Brighton.

  He’d figure out if they were real soon.

  He went further south and between some thick trees, straying away from the stone houses and reaching an area that seemed less inhabited, where dirt fields held indented rows that had once been crops. The ground was frozen with people’s boot prints. He saw the occasional rotten, frozen vegetable that had been passed over, or squished by a farmer’s boot. In a few fields, he saw distant people carrying baskets and tools, using the fields to access another part of the island.

  Eventually, Bray came across several large, fenced-in wooden buildings much bigger than the hunter’s houses, facing the other direction. In one, he heard a goat braying, and in another he heard the high-pitched squawks of chickens. Men were talking inside.

  Bray continued past them without stopping.

  He veered west until he found the river. The terrain sloped downwards through some more trees, ending in a root-covered riverbank. A cold breeze blew off the river, chilling him through his jacket. Bray looked around. He didn’t see anyone following, but that didn’t mean he was alone. He continued faster over the roots and between the trees, making his way over the uneven terrain as he followed the curving coast.

  The island was narrowing.

  Perhaps he was getting close.

  He looked across the river at the long, sloping mountains. The current was less vigorous than at the dam, but he couldn’t tell how deep the water was.

  He finally reached a break in the trees. A hundred yards away in the distance, a wooden bridge crossed over a patch of water connecting the island on which he was walking to another. Guards were stationed on either side.

  Bray discerned more of the narrow second island as he walked within the trees. Two impressive, ancient buildings sat a hundred yards past the bridge, built of solid stone. Neither was more than a story tall, but they were wide enough to contain many more people than any of the stone houses he’d seen on the first island. Several clusters of people walked outside in the distance, milling around the brown grass that covered a portion of land between the buildings and the bridge. A few were hunched over, walking with the posture of people who had seen many years.

  The Important Ones.

  Maybe it hadn’t been a story, after all.

  Having hiked off his anger, Bray turned and made his way back through the forest, ready to catch breakfast and get back to William. As he continued through the forest, he saw no signs of guards watching.

  Perhaps the people on the island were just being cautious.

  Chapter 38: Kirby

  Kirby startled at a knock on the door. For a second, she wondered if Bray had come back, but a woman’s voice she recognized called from outside.

  “Are you awake?”

  Flora.

  Kirby’s hand wandered to her holster as she crossed the room. She wanted to believe Bray’s warnings were selfish, but she wasn’t stupid enough to discount them entirely. She sidestepped to the window, looked out, and verified that only Flora stood on the dirt path. She was carrying a basket.

  Convinced that Flora was alone, Kirby answered the door.

  “How’d you sleep?” Flora asked as she stepped inside.

  “Fine,” Kirby said. Looking over her shoulder, they noticed William holding his head in his hands.

  “You don’t look so good, William,” Flora said as she walked across the room, kneeling next to William’s blankets.

  “I’m okay,” he said, but he looked as pale as ever.

  “I’ve spoken with one of the healers,” Flora said. “She’ll be stopping by later to check on you. Perhaps she can give you something that will make you feel better.”

  “Okay,” said William.

  “I brought something from the river.” Flora set down the basket on the floor, taking out several fresh fish and showing them to William and Kirby. “Hopefully it will get your strength up.”

  Kirby’s eyes widened as she saw the slippery animals, which looked as though they might flop from the basket, even though they were obviously dead. “I haven’t had fish in a while,” Kirby said.

  “It’s tough to catch them in the winter, but I know a few good spots,” Flora said. “You just have to know where they congregate.”

  “Are there lots in the river?” Kirby asked.

  “They’ve become less plentiful over the years as we keep fishing, but usually more come back.”

  Kirby nodded. “Our people tried fishing in the settlement we built, but we weren’t as skilled as some others in my home country.”

  “There’s an art to it,” Flora agreed. “We’ve gotten better. Years ago, some of our ancestors found things on a giant hill not far from here, small pieces of metal attached to very thin pieces of string. They suspected the gods used them, and so they began fashioning them the same way. They worked well, and we got better at using them. Fishing helps keep our people fed, along with hunting. And some products from our animals, of course.”

  Bringing the fish to the fire, Flora pulled one of the cutting boards from near the fireplace and laid down her catch, starting to scale it.

  “Where’s Bray?” Flora asked.

  Kirby said vaguely, “On a walk.”

  Flora nodded as she placed the fish in the fire.

  Taking a chance, Kirby said, “Earlier, Bray said he saw a few guards outside our house. Do you know why?”

  Flora paused a moment. She looked up at Kirby, but she didn’t seem taken aback. “Some of our people are nervous about the god weapons. They want to make sure we’re safe. I hope you aren’t offended.”

  Kirby nodded. “I appreciate the honest answer. My people would be just as cautious.”

  “I’ll admit I had some trouble convincing the others to let you in,” Flora continued, looking shameful. “The only reason you are here is because of my word, and that isn’t enough for some of them. I told them we have nothing to fear from each other. Not all of them feel secure.”

  “I understand,” Kirby said. “Your people are protective of what you have.”

  Flora removed the cooked fish from the fire. “The islands have been our home for many years.” Flora passed a piece of fish to William. “We’ve defended ourselves for generations, and we expect to do it for many more.”

  “My settlement battled some of the same enemies, I expect,” Kirby said, accepting a piece of fish from Flora.

  They watched William chewing with effort.

  “Are you feeling any better, William?” Flora asked.

  He nodded, but he didn’t respond verbally. He looked pale.

  “I think the food and rest will do him good,” Kirby said.

  Flora appraised William. “Take as much time as you need before you leave. It is hard to find suitable places in this area of the wild.”

  “We don’t want to be a burden,” Kirby said. “We are capable of hunting. We can provide our own meals. Although I think another day will help ensure safer travels.”

  Flora nodded. “If you stay longer, perhaps one of you can join one our hunting parties. Providing for yourselves will go a long way toward convincing Deacon of your good will. We have hunting parties that leave each day, going to the mainland. As you might have heard, there aren’t many animals left here on the islan
ds.”

  “A good suggestion,” Kirby said.

  “I’ll pass the message along to Bartholomew, if you’d like,” Flora said. “He mostly stays on the bridge, but he sees most of the hunters passing through.”

  “Sure.”

  “He sent me to check on you, so he wouldn’t bother you.” Finished with her fish, Flora stood. “Please let me know how William is feeling. As I mentioned, hopefully the healer will help when she comes by this afternoon.”

  “I appreciate the fish, Flora.”

  “I owe you my life.” Flora smiled. “It is the least I can do. Do you have everything you need? I can stop by again around dinnertime, if you need.”

  “We should be all set for today. We have a little bit of dried meat in our bags that should get us by for now.”

  “Did Bartholomew or Jonathan tell you where the stream was?”

  “Yes,” Kirby said. “We haven’t gone yet, but we will.”

  Chapter 39: Kirby

  The sun had passed its highest point, and Bray was still gone. There was no sign of the healer. Kirby’s anger toward Bray had faded, or maybe it was the hot meal Flora had brought, filling her stomach and William’s. William seemed a little more talkative, and his fever had broken. Several times, he gave in to Kirby’s suggestions and lay under the blankets. But more often, he asked questions that led Kirby into long answers, sitting up and listening intently as she spoke. Kirby wondered if the meal was giving him the false impression of health.

  After a long conversation in which Kirby explained bullets, magazines, and guns, William said, “We’ve wasted half the day, and I don’t feel hot anymore. Can we go to the stream?”

  Not wanting to squash William’s hope, and remembering her promise, she said, “Sure. Let’s go. We’ll bring the horses, so they can drink.”

  They left the house, taking their possessions and leading the horses. Kirby led two while William took one. The makeshift neighborhood—bustling in the early hours, was now nearly empty. They walked most of the trail without seeing another person, although occasionally they heard voices in the distance. After passing rows of wooden houses, following Bartholomew and Jonathan’s directions, they came to a clearing covered in light snow and filled with boot prints. At the end was a slope that Kirby assumed was the stream bank.