The Dead Seas

“Yes, and we’ll be disgusting and sweaty when we get there if you keep this up.”

I don’t say anything back, but I do lessen my pace. At the same moment, I see the edge of a boardwalk just ahead and the blurry outline of a building against the grey apparatus of fog that conceals it. The click of our shoes against the wood echoes loudly and makes me uneasy. I don’t want any attention drawn to us, at least not until we can get inside and gauge the feel of the town, but after we walk down a couple of streets, I realize that there’s no one around to gawk at us.

“Where is everyone?” Chesrie puzzles.

I’m unsure what to say and respond instead by looking at her with nervous eyes. We then quicken our pace once more toward further into town. The clatter of our footsteps becomes louder, echoing off the buildings and mist as though we are inside of a cave or walking the halls of a castle made from stone. My eyes shift around, frantically searching for anyone in hopes of bringing this ghostly place some semblance of life.

At one point, I see what I think is a tall man leaned up against a building, but as we get closer, he becomes nothing more than a pile of sacks and narrowly-stacked boxes. With that disappointment, I accept in my mind that there is no one here. Something strange is going on, and we shouldn’t stick around to learn what.

“There it is,” Chesrie says so quietly it’s almost a whisper.

Emerging from the dark in front of us is a large structure that stands taller and wider than I’d expected from Anwir’s description of the place. This explains why he was so confident that we’d locate it with relative ease, but now that we’re here, I don’t want to go in.

“We should go back,” I say anxiously.

“Oh, nonsense,” Chesrie snaps. “I’m sure there will be people inside. Would you want to be out in such dreadful weather?”

She steps ahead of me and up into the entryway, confidently swinging the door open for me. A faint brightness pours out from the open doorway, which is a welcome change, but I remain doubtful as I walk through it.

“Can you point me in the direction of these people you’re talking about,” I criticize as she follows me in and closes the door behind us.

The room is large and full of tables, but devoid of visitors. The ceilings are high and reach up into upper stories of the building, at least on one side. Stairs rise up at the edge of the room and disappear into a hallway, which I assume is where bedrooms are, since this place is also supposed to be an inn. To the opposite of us is an unattended bar with a window behind it showing another room, which I am guessing is the kitchen or storage. To our right is a fireplace, though very little heat is emanating from it since only small coals still burn in it.

“Hello!” Chesrie calls out, her voice echoing right back through the still, lukewarm air.

We wait a second, but no one replies. I watch Chesrie, hopeful that she will come to her senses and agree with me. A look of concern slowly spreads across her face, and it seems as though she is about to. To my chagrin, however, her eyes suddenly widen and appear only hungrier as she turns to me.

“Even better if they’re not here,” she grins.

“And what if they come back?” I question, though I find other possibilities much more frightening.

“We’ll figure something out then. We have before.”

“This isn’t normal, we should go ask Anwir if he maybe knows what could be going on.”

“And tell him that we just wasted the perfect opportunity to get even more than we had planned on. Come on, Kelcie. This is our chance, our big prize. Think about the mountains.”

I sigh with frustration, but I don’t know if I’m frustrated with her or myself. I want this life to be over, so why can’t I just suppress my apprehensiveness enough to finish it?

“Okay,” I say, putting my hands to my face, something I do when I’m stressed.

The makeup I’m wearing, which I had momentarily forgotten, smears a little. I remove my hands to see that some of it has rubbed off onto my palms and fingers.

“Here,” Chesrie says while handing me a handkerchief, “at least you won’t have to wear that nasty stuff anymore.”

I exhale a smile, hurriedly removing what plaster I can sense is there, but it is hard to do without a mirror. Chesrie steps closer and takes the handkerchief back, working very quickly until the skin on my face can finally breathe. Then we make our way across the room and get to work.

The exhilarating rush of blood through my veins instantly replaces my anxiety with excitement. I am accustomed to this transformation and ease into it without problem. I’m always edgy before I start plundering through people’s belongings, but then when I’m actually in the act, I become sharp and focused. Despite the strangeness of our current circumstances, this time is no different.

It doesn’t take very long to clear the large room of what scarce valuables are there, just a few coins behind the bar in a locked box, one Chesrie is able to easily pick open. We run up the stairs and go

through a few rooms, but they are void of any personal belongings. It makes me shudder at the thought of why everyone has gone missing, but I try to ignore it as we work our way out of the inn and into a nearby building.

We enter cautiously only to find that it is dark and cold inside. The fireplace in this home hasn’t been used recently, at least not today. We creep up the stairs and into a bedroom. There, a large mirror has been fixed onto a table, a chair sitting in front of it. On the table lie open a couple of small, decorative boxes with necklaces draped over their sides.

“That’s more like it,” Chesrie gasps.

I grin as I watch her pick the contents out and place them into a large, hidden pocket inside of her coat. Meanwhile, I check the rest of the room, finding little else of worth.