ALBA

by HL TRUSLOVE

  You remain hidden in your bird’s nest until the serene sense of calm has washed once again over the landscape. By the evening, no figures remain on the surface of the ship and you feel isolation consume you.

  Leave, having done enough for the day – Turn to 5.7.

  * * *

  Risk getting closer to the ship – Turn to 5.8.

  5.5

  You watch the ship for a few hours more, noting the people that come and go through the passages and holes in its metal surface. Figures carry crates of loot across the deck, possibly for trade. A pair of children sit on the side of the deck, waving their legs wildly into the air. They seem to enjoy the fact that they’re several dozen feet above ground. Suddenly both their heads snap around, as if they’ve been called, and with a whole-body sigh they retreat into the bowels of the ship.

  As the sun begins to slowly set and the sky fades into a dark grey, you feel the first cold prick of rain against your skin. As your concentration on the ship is broken you suddenly feel aware of your body. You feel a coldness within you, an aching soreness in your muscles. You feel an emptiness in your stomach and an urgency in your bladder.

  In all your time watching, the people of the ship presented no danger to you. If you ever meet Mari again, you’ll have to let her know what you’ve discovered. Finding your position on the map you draw a small love heart around the X marked there.

  Perhaps you could attempt to communicate with these people. Because that’s all they seem to be… people. Harmless, average people.

  Add Heart (F.3) to map near Location 5 (The Ship).

  Add Compassion to your character sheet.

  * * *

  Leave, having done enough for the day – Turn to 5.7.

  * * *

  Risk getting closer to the ship – Turn to 5.8.

  5.6

  Keeping a distance, you watch the ship closely for any signs of movement. Crouching at the ridge of the hill, you observe a coil of dark smoke rising up from a crack in its iron surface. For nearly an hour the ship is still, an unmoving monolith against the skyline. Just as you begin to lose interest, you spot movement from the edge of your vision. Your head snaps to the right and you see a group of figures on the horizon, moving together towards the ship.

  As the mass of people draws closer you move slowly onto your stomach, lying flat below the grassline to avoid detection. The figures move closer and closer still, until you can examine their details and features from your hiding spot.

  Eight people walk in an orderly line along the coast towards the ship. At the rear of the group, a figure leads a great beast by a rope. You’ve never seen anything like it before. Its broad shoulders and thick neck remind you of the paintings of horses that decorated the school canteen of your youth. Its body, however, is covered with thick orange fur that twitches in the coastal winds, and from its head two powerful horns curl outwards like weapons. Across its back bundles and packs are stacked and tied, and as it walks this mound of objects swings rhythmically from side to side with each step. Despite its imposing size the beast appears docile and allows – even appreciates – one of the women from the group patting it on the nose.

  The group of people look similar in appearance. Each is wrapped in a heavy layer of animal skin and furs that cover their bodies. Their feet, bound in tight wrappings, are dark, almost black with dirt and damp which fades as it rises from the ground. They are heavy-laden with packs and rolls of bulky objects carried on their backs. Around the waist of one man, four dead birds are hung together at the neck.

  The men are bearded, and every member of the group wears long, wild hair that whips around their face in the wind. To the front of the group a tall woman, perhaps forty years of age, walks with a heavy wooden staff, her face covered by a hood. As they reach the water’s edge she indicates a point on the ground and her followers begin unloading their packs.

  The woman leading the beast unhooks its bags and rubs a hand gently over its shoulders, leaning close in an almost-embrace. The beast bows its head and she tenderly scratches its head between its horns. It’s a strange act of softness you didn’t expect to see in this world.

  Throwing her staff to the ground, the leader undoes her fur hood, revealing a head of ginger hair tied back in a bun. As the group unloads the last of their goods she reaches a hand up to her rough pink mouth and closes her lips around two fingers, letting out a loud, sharp whistle.

  From the highest point of the ship you see a figure emerge from a heavy iron hatch. With his hand sheltering his eyes, he waves to the group and shouts something which is lost in the wind. You watch carefully as three figures appear from the opening in the ship and scramble down its surface to the edge of the water. As the travelling party and those from the ship meet you hear raucous laughs and watch warm embraces. It seems everyone is glad the travellers are back.

  As the final hug ends, the group immediately moves towards a patch of bushes close to the bank of the estuary. Pulling away the twisted branches, they reveal a wooden raft. Small and primitive, the raft is about two metres wide, bound together with rough rope. Each crouching at a corner of the raft, four of the team lift the wooden structure from its hiding place and move it carefully into the water. With great efficiency the team piles their supplies onto the craft. A man pulls a long wooden pole from the same patch of bushes. Stepping carefully onto the laden raft, he pushes the pole into the bed of the estuary, propelling himself forward to the pair of men waiting patiently at the other side.

  You watch for over an hour as the travellers carry their supplies, and then themselves, to the moored ship. When the last of the goods has been hastened away into the interior of the ship, they carefully usher the beast onto the raft. It stands awkwardly as the woman and the leader of the group flank the raft, moving it slowly across the water as they wade alongside, reassuring the nervous creature as it goes.

  As the landscape returns to its eerie stillness, you mark the hidden raft with a point on your map.

  You consider for a moment the implications of this new finding. The raft, though rudimentary, shows a level of innovation you were never told to expect. The wood itself could not have come from the spindly fingers of any shrubs or bushes nearby. The beast, the caravan of people, the raft, and the dwelling itself all raise questions in your mind that make your brain bubble with excitement and curiosity.

  Add Knowledge of Hidden Raft (E.13) to your character sheet.

  * * *

  Leave, having done enough for the day – Turn to 5.7.

  * * *

  Risk getting closer to the ship – Turn to 5.8.

  5.7

  Today’s findings have been fascinating. It’s remarkable just how innovative humans can be, even when they have to build from the ash up. You feel a deep desire in you to go and board the ship, to discuss with these people about themselves, but you get the sense that perhaps that’s best left for another day – perhaps when a small party splits off. Though you don’t think that they would react with hostility towards you, you really don’t want to risk anything. Not when you still need to find your party.

  You take one more cursory glance across the deck of the ship. Apart from what appears to be a couple on some sort of date sitting by the hull, the outside is completely empty. In your hours of watching you haven’t seen anything that would suggest that any of your previous companions are there. Maybe it was high-hoped that they would be, but even then it was difficult not to hold onto the wish that they would be there.

  Breathing a deep sigh, you retreat the way you came, keeping low to the ground even though darkness covers you as the moon begins its ascent. Once you’re out of sight of the ship, you stand and stretch, pushing the blood back into your numb extremities from squatting so long. Best to call it a night here, you decide, and set up your little camp.

  END.

  Add Return to Ship (Chapter 6, L.6) to map.

  5.8

  It’s probably dangerous. At the very least it’s a bad idea
, and yet the sense of intrigue pushes you on. If you can get closer, maybe you can take samples of the plants back for testing when you’re reunited with your group, get some new analyses on the environment. If you’re lucky, you may even overhear some conversations from the people inside.

  Sticking low, you crawl along the ground, trying to ignore where the grass springs up and tickles your nose. More than once you desperately hold in a sneeze for fear it will bring everyone’s attention onto you. As you slowly make your way to the shallows surrounding the ship you notice just how cold it’s getting as the moon begins to rise into the sky, not to mention how dark the landscape becomes. The only source of light apart from the soft moonlight comes from a few orange glows in the ship, concentrated at different windows and cracks in the cabins, suggesting the warmth of firelight. You envy the people in there, snug and comfortable.

  The water laps at the toes of your boots as you rearrange yourself into a sitting position, knees at your chest to try to make yourself as small as possible. You rummage in your pack for a container and scoop at the pond to collect a sample, but when your hand reaches in you touch something slimy and screech in automatic reaction, dropping both the tester and your cover.

  You slap your hands over your mouth, one gloved and dry, one wet and cold, too late to stifle the noise you made. Your eyes flit up to the ship and watch for reactions. The deck is empty, and though you can see shadows moving against the firelight, none of them seem to have noticed the shrill outcry. You go to relax when you become aware of a presence to your right.

  Slowly you turn your head. Standing about twenty feet away from you is a boy, no more than eight years old. He has dark skin and a mop of unruly black hair on his head. He’s dressed similarly to the adults you spied earlier – mostly in leathers, with an animal skin tied about his shoulder to protect him from the cold. There seems to be some sort of stick in his hand. The two of you watch each other for a long moment.

  Talk to the boy – Turn to 5.9.

  * * *

  Watch the boy – Turn to 5.11.

  * * *

  Threaten the boy – Turn to 5.10, Needs Hand-to-Hand Combat.

  5.9

  “Hello,” you venture. The boy wipes his nose on the back of his sleeve, leaving a long trail of snot that glints in the moonlight. You shudder a bit before he points at the water with his stick, which you can now see has been sharpened into a spike as a rudimentary spear.

  “They’re just frogs,” he says. You don’t quite cotton on to what he means before you follow where he’s gesturing and see something hopping out the water. A fat, bulbous green mass jumps to the shore, sinking a little into the mud and letting out a loud, contented ribbit. You realise this must have been what brushed against your hand and made you jump just now, and feel a bit silly.

  “Mam gave me this spear to hunt ’em. But I don’t like hunting ’em. I like watching ’em,” he tells you, sagely. To prove his point he squats down in the mud and trains his eyes intently on the frog that’s just made its appearance. It ribbits once again and he imitates it, uncannily, to such an extent you feel your eyebrows raise.

  “What you doin’ out here?” he asks eventually, tearing his eyes from the frog.

  “Exploring,” you say. He nods and then his little face pulls into a pinched look of puzzlement.

  “Mam says sploring is dangerous. Gotta stay near the ship.”

  “Yes, she’s right,” you confess. And then, with just a hint of hope, “I don’t suppose you’ve seen anyone else dressed like me… after the storm?”

  The boy shakes his head.

  “Nah. Just us in the ship. No outsiders came in. Sorry.”

  You sigh. Perhaps it was too much of a hope. He opens his mouth but before he can continue you hear the sounds of other children’s voices calling out in the distance. He gets to his feet and wipes his dirty hands on his just-as-dirty trousers.

  “You should go,” he says, “and don’t be scared of frogs. They’re just frogs.”

  On those parting words of wisdom he turns on his heel and runs off towards where you heard the call. You can’t help but feel a little bit charmed by this odd boy. Even in this cold, harsh world, strange children can still exist. It’s so… human.

  You cinch your pack tighter to you and leave hurriedly, before anyone less welcoming can spot you.

  END.

  Add Frog (F.9) to your notebook.

  Add Compassion to your character sheet.

  Add Talk to Boy (E.17) to your character sheet.

  Add Return to the Ship (Chapter 6, L.6) to map.

  5.10

  You and the boy watch each other for a long moment, trapped as if you’re predator and prey but not quite sure who is filling which role. Slowly, deliberately, you place a fist inside an open hand, and push your fingers down. Your knuckles crack loudly in the silent marsh. The little boy’s gaze drops from your face to your hands and his eyes go wide.

  “Scram,” you say. He doesn’t need telling twice. Scrambling like some sort of rodent, he spins round and runs away from you as fast as his little legs will allow. Patches of mud and grass fly up from under his heels – some of them decorating your coat. You growl and dust the muck off yourself.

  From the water beside you, a frog jumps out of the water and lands with a wet splat in the saturated ground. Automatically you bring your boot up and step down heavily on it, killing the creature beneath your weight.

  You wipe your boot on the bank with a sigh. Such a cruel world.

  You pull your pack closer to your back and head back the way you came, keeping low to the ground, and hoping the boy doesn’t bring back allies.

  END.

  Add Squished Frog (F.10) to your notebook.

  Add Cruelty to your character sheet.

  Add Return to the Ship (Chapter 6, L.6) to map.

  5.11

  There’s a heaviness in the air as you and the boy watch each other, like the mugginess that happens before a storm. Children are naturally unpredictable and you know just how different to him you must look – surely he has an idea that you’re an outsider. You don’t want to spook him and have him scream, alerting everyone on the ship to your presence.

  He makes the first move. His footsteps make little squelching noises in the saturated mud as he comes over to you, a look of scepticism on his face. You raise your hands in the universal sign of peace, as if to say, I have no weapon. He raises the stick he’s had clutched in his little gloved hand and you see now that the end of it has been sharpened into a point. You really hope he’s not going to stab you with it. That would be the icing on an already quite awful cake.

  Instead he uses the blunt end to upset the water. Having been disturbed, a frog jumps out from where it was submerged and onto your boot. Your eyes go wide at the unexpectedness of it, and you hear the boy laugh in reaction. Quick as a flash, before it can notice, he picks up the frog in his little hands, trapping it and holding tight. It croaks, disgruntled.

  He holds his quarry up to you. Not knowing what else to do, you offer your hands out, and he deposits the frog in your grip. Neither you nor the frog are excited about this situation and you don’t attempt to stop it from leaping off of you and back into the water, swimming away.

  “They’re just frogs,” the boy says. You nod. Yes, you suppose, they are just frogs. Life might have changed immeasurably for humans during the Ash War, but animals probably barely noticed. How easy it must be to be a frog, not needing to worry about anything more than where to catch a fly.

  You hear the voices of more children coming from down the bank. The boy gives you a wave, which you awkwardly return, before running off to meet up with his friends.

  You wipe the frog slime off on your coat and sigh. Time to retreat. For now, anyway. You keep low to the ground and depart from the ship, the sound of children playing filling your ears as you go.

  END.

  Add Frog (F.9) to your notebook.

  Add Talk to Boy (E.17) to your
character sheet.

  Add Return to the Ship (Chapter 6, L.6) to map.

  Chapter 6

  Return to the Ship

  6.1

  It’s early morning as you make your way back to the village in the ship. Even though you’ve seen its grandeur before, the sight of it rising above the horizon is still breathtaking, a man-made mountain amongst the nature that’s sought to reclaim the world.

  The sun is rising in the east and glittering on the water. It makes the ship appear to be floating on hot coals, strange and ethereal. The water dances in the breeze and shines little patterns onto the rusty metal; it’s beautiful, in an odd sort of way. A union between what was and what is.

  Though dawn has broken you see no signs of life on deck. If you didn’t know better, if you hadn’t seen the movement of the people inside it before, you might say that it was abandoned.

  You hum a note to yourself, unsure of what to do. You’re still worried that the residents may be hostile towards you if you make yourself too much of a threat. You are, after all, an outsider – and there is a chance they won’t trust you because of it. You’ll have to carefully consider how to proceed.