Author's note (August 2011): I wrote this story about eight years ago and just recently came across it by accident. I'm in the process of editing and rewriting it, but here's a little taste for you.

Second author's note (March 2013) - I recently noticed that the way I published my story does exactly what I hate about some stories on here - really short chapters so you constantly have to be pushing "next". It's simply a result of my writing process, but I personally find it annoying to read. So I'm joining together all those small chapters and hopefully, that'll make for a better reading experience - but the story is pretty exactly the same (save for minor style edits), because otherwise I'd feel like I was cheating those of you who have been following this story from the start.

Disclaimer: I am not Raymond Thompson or anyone else affiliated with the Tribe. I'm not making any money out of this - I'm just having a bit of fun with the characters.

A traveller picked his way along a winding path through the forest. The people in his world would have called him old – he was nearing 30, an almost unheard-of age in this place, where ten or so years ago all the adults had succumbed to a mysterious virus. He had been lucky, if you could call it so – the virus had spared his then 18-year-old self, but he had been plunged into this strange new world of children, and he wasn't always so sure if he was glad to be alive. The years had been hard on him – his tall frame was lean, bordering on emaciated, the sinews of his arms and hands sticking out, not an ounce of fat on him. Deep lines had been dug into his face, and only few of them bore the memory of laughter – most lines spoke of frowns, of sadness. What did he have to be happy about? His parents were long gone, and he hardly thought about them any more – what good would it do? - but all his dreams were gone, too, all except one.

He had once dreamed of a better world for all those scared little children he saw on every street corner, but this dream had been taken from him, twisted and perverted by a lunatic, and long, painful experience had taught him that these dreams were worthless in a world where nobody wanted to conform to "the adult's rules". "The adults" were long gone, and even though most of the children from the time of the virus were grown up themselves now, most still clung to the idea that since "the adults" were gone, they could do whatever they liked, order and peace be damned. There were, of course, peaceful little corners in this world, too, places where some people stuck together and made ends meet in relative harmony, but he had yet to find a corner he himself fit into. Apart from that brief time of happiness, seven, eight years ago, he had roamed the country, from one end of the island to another and back again, north, south, east and west, like a piece of paper buffeted around by the wind.

Sometimes, he wondered why he kept going. What was the point? He could just settle down, join a tribe, or find himself an abandoned house and set up shop there, or maybe just quit existing at all – but when he contemplated these possibilities, he always knew that there was one thing he needed to do before he could consider putting an end to his wanderings. There was one person he needed to see once more, if only for a minute, if only to tell her... tell her what? That he hadn't forgotten about her? That he was sorry? He hardly knew, the only thing he knew with any kind of certainty was that he had to keep going until he had seen her one more time.

So he kept trudging up the path, hoping that, this time, his information was correct, and that she would be there, at the end of it. As the path opened up to a small valley, a large country house rose up in front of him, with an orchard on one side and a few vegetable plots on the other. Once upon a time, before the virus, it would have been stately, but today, it was a little run-down, though still much better-kept than the houses in the city that had been looted and vandalized many times over. It had probably escaped this fate only by virtue of its hidden-ness, tucked away in this little valley between the overgrown hills.

His size and age made it unnecessary to be overly cautious, few people dared attack him, but somehow, this house with its friendly yellow exterior gave him the impression that it must be a friendly sort of tribe that lived there – so he approached it without fear, and soon stood in the old entrance hall.

"Hello? Anybody home?" he called.

A door opened somewhere on the first floor, and though he could not see whoever was walking towards him in the gathering dusk, he could hear their footsteps. A pair of bare feet appeared in the last rays of light falling through the open door, followed by legs clad in dark jeans, a washed-out purple sweater, and finally, the face of a young woman of perhaps 20 or so years. It was always hard to tell these days how old someone was, he thought – time showed differently on faces nowadays than back when life had been made easy by the adults.

She looked nice, this woman, welcoming, even. When she caught sight of him, standing in the doorway a little uncertainly, she smiled broadly. "Hello, stranger. What brings you to this remote part of the world?"

He felt it the best to respond to her friendliness with frankness, instead of beating around the bush. "I was hoping to find someone here – a girl named Ellie? About 23, 24 I'd say, blonde hair, brown eyes? Used to live in the city, one or two lifetimes ago?"

For a moment, she looked thoughtful. "There's someone like that here, but she doesn't generally care for strangers. You know each other?"

"We did, once. Do you think I could talk to her, please?"

"I think I'll leave that up to her. I'll go fetch her – what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't say anything." He could see the girl's face closing up – it was never a good sign in this world when someone wouldn't give their name, but he felt that if Ellie knew who wanted to see her, she might not want to. He tried to regain a little ground by showing his empty hands and small bag of possessions, obviously devoid of any weapons. "Just... tell her it's an old friend. Don't worry, I mean her no harm."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that. She can take care of herself. But you'll understand that we're a little sceptic around here when someone won't tell us their name or their business."

He looked her directly in the eyes. "You'd be stupid if you weren't wary. I swear, I come in peace."

She shrugged. "Well, if you're not going to say any more, it'll have to make do. I warn you though, don't try any funny business. Don't think for a moment you'll get away with that."

"I won't. Thanks. I'll wait outside, if that makes you feel any more comfortable."

"It does, a little. I'll ask her if she wants to see you, and tell her where to find you."

"I'll be right here."

"Ellie? You in there?"

"Yeah. What's up, Gel?"

"You have a visitor. Won't say his name, but he looks like an honest sort of fellow. Says you know each other"

"Is he a Mall Rat?"

"No, I don't think so. He doesn't look like any Mall Rat I've ever met. Doesn't have any tribal markings at all. I think he might be a drifter. Tall, skinny guy, kind of good-looking, but a little old. Ring any bells?"

"Not really. I guess I'll have to go have a look."

"He's waiting outside."

"Thanks, Gel."

As she walked down the stairs, she wondered who the mysterious visitor might be. If he was no Mall Rat, or indeed belonged to no tribe at all, she was at a loss who it could be – all her acquaintances were Mall Rats, Gaians or Farm Girls, and nobody else knew where she had made her home these last few years, after Mega's virus had fizzled out and they had all returned to the city. It had been a time of turmoil, back then – not just because of the renewed upheaval that Mega had caused, but also because of what had awaited her when she and the other Mall Rats had arrived at that strange island, filled with cages full of Techno prisoners. No, she wouldn't think about that now. She needed to concentrate on what lay before her – meeting a stranger who claimed to know her, but wouldn't reveal who he was.

The stranger stood with his back to her, watching the sun set over the hills he had no doubt climbed over to reach her little haven.

"Who wants to speak to me but won't tell his name?"

He turned around, slowly. For a moment, she forgot to breathe.

"Luke!"

Her eyes wandered about the face that was so familiar to her, over the blue eyes, the mouth that had so often smiled at her, she remembered the dimples in his face, near the mouth, that sometimes appeared when he talked and always when he smiled. But it was long ago since she had last seen those dimples. The last time had to be eight years ago... something inside her gave a lurch and all the things that had happened since he had left flooded into her brain, all those things that she had just managed to put out of her mind half a minute ago. She grew very angry. The sight of his hopeful eyes, drinking her in, his arms half-raised as if hoping she would launch herself into them, filled her with rage.

„How dare you come back after such a long time?" she asked with a voice that could hardly hide her wrath.

He looked as if he had been hit. „I... I wanted to see you. I thought you maybe wanted to see me, too." He watched the woman in front of him, who looked up to him, towering over her 5'6'' frame, and yet it seemed as if it was her who was looking down at him. She had grown even more beautiful than he remembered her. Her hair went down to her waist now, still blonde, still so shiny, still so... breathtaking. She had changed the orange strands which he had last seen on her to black ones, and was now wearing black and white clothes, which gave her the airs of an avenging goddess, looking down at him only waiting for him to make a lethal mistake.

„You were wrong. Leave, I don't want to see you again. I'm done with you. How dare you come walking in here? Were you expecting me to shout hooray at your sight after all you have done to me?" she turned around and walked away, leaving him where he was, dazed, as if somebody had hit him right on the back of the head. What did she say? What should he have done to her? Why was she so furious? He had come back, had searched for her for almost five years, and when he found her, she shouted at him and left. Had he been mistaken all the time, thinking that she had loved him? Eight years of thinking about her ended abruptly when she told him to leave and never come back. Yes, he had left, but it had been for her own protection, couldn't she see that?

„Ellie! Wait! Why are you treating me this way? I just wanted to see you for some minutes, and you tell me to go back where I belong! What have I done to you that gives you the right to act like this?" he shouted. She turned back to him, looking as if she didn't believe what he had just said.

„What you have done?" her voice grew kind of soft, but not less wrathful. „Luke, rack your brain, it'll only take a few seconds, maybe you will remember why I didn't see you the last eight years."

"Ellie, you know why I left. Didn't you read my letter? I told you back then, over and over, that you would be better off without me!"

She almost laughed at this, a short, derisive snort, and her voice grew very soft.

"Oh yes, you left me for my own good, didn't you? Didn't bother to ask me what I thought about that, did you? You just up and left, and left me stranded there all by myself. Now ask me again why I treat you this way, ok?"

He hung his head, and for a second, she almost felt sorry for him. He didn't know half of what had happened since he had left, couldn't know... would never know. She thought about getting Sammy to boot him out, to transport him back to the road and make sure he never came back, but in the end, she couldn't bring herself to do it, he looked so sorry and dejected. She settled for walking back into the house, leaving him standing there on the front porch. She hated him for bringing up all those painful memories, but she could not send him away now, into the night.