Chapter 14

Dawn came too quickly, as it always did. Lucy yawned and poked around the campfire, bringing the embers back to life so she could cook the rest of the gang some sort of substantial breakfast before they headed out again. Her and five kids, alone in the woods and far from home. Not a plan she was comfortable with, but options weren't in plentiful supply lately. They'd been hiking for two days, and it was still another half-day to the forester outpost.

It better have the shit we need, she thought, and stabbed viciously into firepit.

They'd slept hard but not well, and in shifts, struggling through thick woods and avoiding the road that led to the outpost. The roads were always watched, they'd learned that early on. The woods were too, but even the Coven couldn't be everywhere at once. She looked at the sleeping figures: Ethan and Nathan alternated snores in a sort of melodic hum; Abby, curled in her bag so tightly only tufts of hair poked out; Stark, sprawled halfway out of his bag and invading on the bottom of Abby's bag; and Billy-

Billy was awake, staring at her through narrowed eyes.

"Jesus!" Lucy's heart jumped. "You wanna help me, or just creep me out?"

Billy stared a moment longer, the wiggled quietly out of his bag. He was fully dressed, boots and all.

"You been like that all night?"

Billy shrugged. "S'ppose so." Without another word, he stumbled into the woods. She heard him sigh with relief, then a distant soft crunch as he went off to do whatever Billy did in the woods until he brought back some edible (or almost edible) thing.

Lucy sprinkled some pine needles over the smoking embers, then added some smaller twigs slowly, careful not to smother the delicate fire before it matured. Soon she felt it was big enough to add a few small logs, not too many, and finally the crackle of the fire seemed to stir the sleeping children.

Well, first it was Abby's foot jabbing Stark's head, which caused him to jolt awake with a yelp. Then the twins leapt up, swaying and bleary-eyed.

"Shit," said Ethan.

"Goddammit, Stark," said Nathan.

"Language!" Lucy shook her head at the mumbled apologies. "Bunch of barbarians," she muttered.

They sleepily packed their things, rolling beds and mats onto their packs and pulling up stumps towards the fire, yawning and rubbing their eyes. Lucy poured over their map with Stark, plotting the hike as best they could. Soon, Billy appeared, carefully balancing a nest in one hand and a sling of dead squirrels in the other.

"Breakfast is served," he said, and spat onto the ground.

"Ugh," Abby said. "Those poor baby birds'll never see the light of day."
Nathan looked at the nest with disinterest. "Those little bitty things? Pffft. Give 'em to Abs and Stark. They need 'em more than I do." With that, he reached in his back and grabbed a big hunk of jerky. He stuffed one cheek with a huge bite and shoved another hunk of jerky at his brother.

Billy shrugged and whipped out the tiny camping griddle, and fried the eggs up first, followed by the squirrels, now gutted and cleaned them.

Lucy looked around and smiled. They'll be okay if you aren't around. They joked and teased one another, but it was all in good fun and no one got too bent out of shape. Ethan and Nathan took the heavier items from Stark on their packs, and Abby made sure all the canteens were full from a nearby creek. Pretty soon, they extinguished the fire, covered it with dirt and leaves, and pushed the stumps around to reduce the evidence they were there.

Onward they marched, single-file and silent. They stopped occasionally to rest, darting their eyes in the woods around them.

It was eerie there. Was that a bear snuffling in the distance? Or soft boots scuffling on the rotting earthen ground? They heard wood clink together – antlers on a buck against a branch? Or tools on a belt clattering together? Even if they weren't being physically followed by the Coven, they were still there – the fear, niggling in the back of everyone's minds like a splinter.

They were gasping and sweaty, hiking uphill for at least the past mile or so. Ethan had to stop here and there and catch his breath, Abby was getting nauseous from the altitude. Finally, after getting turned around for a quarter mile and gathering their bearings, they came to a break in the trees.

"There!" Stark shouted and ran forward, almost forgetting their cautious quiet before he screeched to a halt and ducked behind a nearby rock to scope out the land. Empty. Not a walker in sight, not that they expected much this far out. Only a lonesome loon's call greeted them, waiting for a mate that wouldn't come before winter.

They staked the place out for another hour as they hydrated. When nothing appeared to be going on, they headed up to the outpost. It was a cabin, set atop four flights of winding stairs so the rangers could look out over the trees and spot fires. The wood was rotting on the stairs in a few places, but it had been well-maintained up until the world went to hell, so only a few boards were unusable. Lucy went first, testing each one and marking an "X" on the weakest ones with a red piece of chalk she had wrapped up for just such an occasion.

They made it to the top of the creaking, but sturdy structure, and gasped.

The view was beautiful – trees and mountains as far as they could see. Vast forests of green pine, peppered with brilliant reds and oranges and yellows as the trees readied for winter.

"Gosh," Abby said finally. "Gosh, that's really something."

"Shit." Nathan agreed.

Lucy couldn't find the words to scold him.

Stark had no interest in the scenery. He nudged Ethan to use boltcutters on a padlock, then tried to jimmy into the last lock on the door. Finally it clicked, and he pushed in, coughing at the dust that kicked up from an errant breeze that ruffled some loose papers as they quietly shuffled into the outpost.

It was a decent sized room, with two small rooms to the left. One small corner was a living area with two cots and a kitchenette, and the rest of the room was filled with filing cabinets, two desks, and some intense radio equipment that extended around an alcove that the two small rooms blocked off from view. With a nod to Lucy, Ethan checked the rooms both methodically before anyone proceeded into the outpost: just a storage closet and a rustic sort of indoor-outhouse. The windows were coated in dust and dirt, filtering the light through in patches and streaks. Immediately, the kids got to work nosing through drawers and cabinets, packing up the useful items: a handful of MRE's, emergency supplies, some expired – but still possibly useful – medicine.

Lucy followed the sound of Stark's muttering around the corner of the main room. He sat on his knees, rocking and muttering in front of a piece of equipment. His flashlight balanced on a box, shining at a particularly complicated set of wiring. Lucy swept hers up and down, noting the ancient equipment and some empty shelves, nothing more.

"Is this what we need?"

"No."

Lucy waited a moment. The others found a toolbox, and were bickering over what tools were more important to haul back. She hesitated to intervene, and before she stomped back around the corner to do so, Abby's calm voice indicated the squabble was over.

Stark sighed heavily. "It's gone. Maybe the ranger took it before he left. I don't think anyone else has been back up here."

"Oh." Lucy's heart sank. Almost a full week of hiking to get in. For nothing.

He stood up on his tiptoes and pointed to one of the empty shelves. "It probably fit here. It's a part of this entire set-up, but there's a few other pieces missing, too. Enough that maybe they wanted to move locations and still be able to send and receive. Been missing awhile, judging by all the dust on the shelves."

Billy poked his head around the corner, then saw Lucy's face. "Shit." He disappeared around the corner. "It ain't here or it's broken or some shit," he told the others.

"Billy…" Lucy started, but her heart wasn't in it. "There's still got to be something useful around here. Kids! Gather around!"

Five exhausted faces appeared around her, dirty and sweaty and tired.

"Listen, we knew this was a possibility," Lucy said.

"Sucks though," Ethan said. "I don't even know what we're looking for really but it's been a real pain in the ass."

Lucy nodded. "It has been. But we need this…Stark? What's it called?"

"Radio repeater."

"We need this radio repeater to boost the radio's signal back home. It's not life or death now, but it might be. We don't know what's happened since we've been gone, or who's been following us, if anyone even has. But we're tough. We've lasted this long."

Abby nodded. "We still have some good stuff. This place was untouched, and it's kinda cool. We could use this in an emergency maybe."

Lucy rolled this around in her head. "Maybe, maybe not. It's a long way to get here, and once we're up in the tower the only way down is those stairs. But listen – this place had the equipment we need at some point, but now it's gone. It was here before, so that means they used it to talk to others. Other outposts, or maybe some headquarters or something. That information might be here in paperwork."

Stark leapt up. "Holy sh-uh, you're right! We gotta tear this place apart!"

Ethan and Nathan looked at one another in the dim light and smiled. Their specialty was tearing things apart.

"Well, let's not get crazy," Lucy said in weak attempt to calm the air. She had seen enough fallout from the twins to know what damage they were capable of. "It's probably somewhere accessible, in a binder or in a drawer. Stark, why don't you take the desk around the radio, that's the most logical spot."

"Right!"

"Let's set up camp here tonight. It's sheltered, and seems safe enough for now. Why don't Billy and the Twins go out and patrol, check out the area? Cover up our tracks, too, just in case. Abby, you help me clear out this corner, and we'll get a spot for the cots and stuff situated, then we'll help Stark search the rest of the cabinets. Plan?"

The kids exchanged glances, before nodding. "Plan," they echoed.

Lucy heaved a sigh of relief. Sending the older boys out would remove the ticking timebombs of frustration, and maybe (hopefully) allow them to blow off some steam. They'd likely go throw rocks off the side of the mountain, or whack at some branches with Nathan's machete, but Lucy didn't care. They needed it and would only cause chaos inside. Abby needed structure and order, and Stark needed quiet and concentration.

But what do you need? Something tickled in her brain, some hidden voice or urge or…something. Lucy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It wasn't about her needs. Just the one, singular need: to keep the kids safe.

But at what cost?

"Shut up," she murmured.

Abby stopped dragging the backpacks inside from where they were abandoned on the walkway outside the door. "Huh?"
Lucy flashed her a smile, hoping it looked calm. "Nothing, just- nothing."

Abby didn't look convinced. "Why don't you take those nasty old cots and beat the dust out of them over the balcony? They still look useable, just nasty. Fresh air would do them some good." And you, too, her face seemed to say.

Lucy nodded. The air was stale in here, and it seemed to get staler by the minute. "Good idea, Abs. I'll do that. Let me help you with Ethan's pack, that thing is heavy, then I'll do that."

Soon the packs were inside, and after some cajoling and swearing, Lucy and Abby had opened some of the rickety old windows so just some weathered screens would let the fresh air in, and no bugs (they hoped). After a thorough boxing match with the cots, they set them up and poked through the kitchenette for some pots to heat up dinner. They were debating between two similar, and disappointingly small cookware when Stark let out a triumphant cry.

"I found it! The list!"

Lucy and Abby ran over and nearly toppled the bleary-eyed boy over. A huge, heavy binder that looked like it weighed just about as much as he did balanced precariously in his hands. He dumped the binder on a table near one of the open windows where the fading light was peeking through, and flipped open the first few pages.

Lucy scanned it, fingers trembling as they flew over names and distances:

STATION RIVER ALPHA 52.6 MI

STATION RIVER BETA 85.7 MI

STATION RIVER CHARLIE 107.2 MI (DEFUNCT)

A list of stations! She scanned the list, apparently sorted by names and landmarks they were near, until she found the closest five stations listed. After flipping through the binder with Stark for a few more minutes, they found more information on each outstation, including coordinates on a map. Lucy pulled out hers, faded and wrinkled but usable, and they went through methodically, marking where the stations were in relation to home.

They heard a creak on the stairs, and Abby rushed to the other window to peek down.

"It's just the boys!" she called as she was halfway out the door, rushing down to meet them with an update. Their murmurs were low and unenthusiastic, but they sounded less irritable than earlier.

"So, we gotta do this crap again?" Billy scowled as he stomped in, trailing mud and dried up leaves in with his boots. Abby followed behind, her face wrinkled in disgust. Ethan and Nathan clomped in and added more mud to the mess, along with dripping blood from two fresh rabbit kills.

Lucy suppressed a smile. "Yes, unfortunately, we do."

A round of groans rippled through the group.

"But, next time we're taking the car."

The groans turned to cheers.

A few hours later, with full bellies and tired bones, the four kids collapsed into bed. Lucy stood out on the walkway in the dark, looking out over the woods that enclosed the outpost. Years prior, the area had been cleared out to make way for a dirt road, and to construct the outpost itself. But now, tiny saplings were spreading closer and closer, brush and weeds already closing in fast. Soon, the outpost would be surrounded, and in decades, it would be in ruins.

She shivered at the thought, all the traces of mankind reclaimed by the nature they'd once conquered. She looked out over the woods, wondering what eyes were watching them. Were they animal? Walker? Or human?

She lit a crumpled cigarette as Ethan or Nathan's snores softly lilted from inside the outpost. Whatever was out there, she'd be ready.

/ / / / /

Soft voices whispered nearby, and Willow stirred from a restless sleep. Her body woke, but she kept her eyes closed – a trick her sister (sister…) had taught her years ago. They whispered plans, these voices did, too close to her. She was asleep outside the recess in the mountain, the small cave outside the Coven's chapel of unholy dealings. Didn't they know better? Whispers brought curious ears.

Her sister's people were getting sloppy. Willow strained to hear, but could only make out words here and there.

Trap. Kids. Defense. Weak.

Words that fed her curiosity more. Then, a boot kicked her ribcage – not too hard, but not exactly lightly, either.

Willow rolled upwards and wiped the dirt and drool from her cheek. She squinted into the darkness, and saw a face looking over her, haunting in the flickering fire.

"Bearclaw," she croaked.

"Willow," he returned. His face was stoney, hard to read. "She will see you now."

Willow shot up. "She will?" Her knees threatened to snap her back to the ground, but she willed them strength.

Bearclaw said nothing, just stared down at her. The claws clattered lightly together around his neck. His face was painted white, chunks of thick paint still drying as it was messily smeared across his face.

"Not if you take too long. Get moving," he kicked her again, softer this time, as she threw her things into her pack.

"I've waited long enough out here."
Bearclaw snorted. "For you, perhaps. Hurry."

Willow took a deep breath and walked towards the light flickering behind the entrance. Symbols of the old ways were carved around the entrance, swirls and angles, symbols that Willow had lost the meaning to long ago.

Voices echoed, crashing into one another through the cave, like so many lost ghosts tangled and tumbling.

The chamber was different than she remembered. The simplicity of it was gone now, more elaborate chairs and ornate side tables arranged so they faced the one large chair, almost a crude throne, made of large branches, bones, and antlers. Two skulls smiled at the top, swirling runes painted over the empty eye sockets.

The Witch's Seat.

In the Seat sat a woman with wild but beautiful dark hair that floated around her, seemingly heavy and weightless at the same time. Braids adorned her tangled curls, with small glass beads that glittered in the torchlight. Her eyes were lined with charcoal, giving her wide, icy blue eyes a haunting look. Ash and mud were smudged on her porcelain white skin, what little was seen. She wore a long, black dress that flowed out around her like a queen's would. But the only thing she was Queen of, in Willow's opinion, was darkness.

"Sister." The Witch crowed in a low voice, hoarse and scratchy. Branches on a glass window. Fingernails on a chalkboard. "You wanted to see me?" She lazily ran a piece of twine between her fingers, glancing down at it occasionally as if it held the secrets of the world.

She acts like the queen of everything, same as always.

Willow approached The Seat, noting all the strong warriors and hunters that haunted the walls behind her sister.

"Can we speak in private?"

"No." A smile twitched at the corner of The Witch's lips.

Willow struggled to remember her sister's true name – what was it before all this madness? Stricken from her memory, by force- by pain. She dare not speak it again, but just to remember – it was distant, a fog. "Very well," she said. "I simply wanted to see you again. To talk. To be included again."

The Witch cocked her head, almost at an angle too far. An owl, calculating a mouse. A hanged woman, neck broken by rope. "To be…included? You?" She flicked a wide-eye to Bearclaw who shook his head with a bitter smile. Amusement passed between them easily, and Willow's mouth tasted bitter.

"Never. You disobeyed me, and-"

"But I'm your sister, doesn't that mean-"

"DO NOT INTERRUPT ME!" The Witch flew out of her chair in one blink, and in the next, she had Willow by the throat. She gasped and clawed at the surprisingly strong fingers clamped tightly around her neck, choking her.

"Betrayed," the foul words hissed. Willow's eyes stung, and her feet lifted off the ground ever so slightly. "You warned those…meatbags. And so they left, along with our food."

The Witch let go, and Willow fell to the drop, choking and gasping for air. The men and woman in the cave began to chatter loudly in disappointment. A death would be a fine end to the evening.

"Willow, Willow. So easily bent, so easily broken. It wasn't starvation that killed our people." Willow looked up at her sister who was no longer her sister. No, this was someone else entirely. The Witch's eyes were bright in the flickering lights, but empty. Empty pits with no emotion, no love, just…nothing. She pointed a long finger out accusingly at Willow. "You killed them."

Willow tried to protest, but her throat was so sore that all she could make was a rasping sound. The smoke from the room was stinging her eyes, her mouth, her throat. She wished she'd never came, she should have just stayed away, in her healing tent. Why, why did she think so highly of herself that she would change this madness?

The Witch broke into a smile, and stretched out her arms. The cave grew silent, aside from the popping and crackling from fires.

"I say we have a good old -fashioned Banishing tomorrow morning!" Cheers erupted from the others, hoots and hollers echoing off of the cave walls and barreling into the black night.

"No!" Willow wanted to scream, but her mouth just gaped uselessly. Even her own body betrayed her now.

Before she could stumble to her feet, Willow's hands were pinned behind her back and tied tightly with rough rope. Her feet followed, and as she struggled she hit the ground with a thud.

Her head must have struck something. It throbbed, and everything went hazy. Several faces appeared before hers, but they looked far away, then further and further at the end of a tunnel.

Before she blacked out, she saw Bearclaw stern face, though now it was smiling. It was a cruel thing, to see a never-smiling face finally crack at her misery.

She wanted to shudder, to scream, kick, and spit. But all that faded away into blackness, and she hoped, just for moment, that she faded into death as well.

/ / / / /

AN: I haven't abandoned you! Progress is just slow due to life and things - thanks for sticking around and hope you all are safe and well!