Talen

“Roundbottom is also three days from here,” I say, “but there isn’t any wear on the wheels of your cart.”

The merchant pauses for a long moment, then smiles.

“I didn’t mean Roundbottom,” he says. “I meant that other settlement…what is it called?”

“Oh! I know the town!” I lean against the merchant’s cart and look to Jonny with a grin. “What is that one called?”

“Not sure which one you mean,” Jonny replies.

“It was on the tip of my tongue…” I tap my chin with my finger. “Oh, yes! I remember! It’s called complete bullshit.”

I stare into the merchant’s eyes. He stills for a brief moment, smiles, and then grabs the bottom edge of the cart. With great force, he lifts the cart up and pushes it toward us. The cart topples over; potatoes spill out, and melons go rolling across the bricks.

The cart knocks me backward, but Jonny is closer to the edge and manages to jump out of the way. He takes off after the merchant who runs down the back of the line of carts and booths before making a sharp right turn toward the trees.

I consider joining the chase, but both Jonny and the merchant are quickly out of sight. If Jonny doesn’t catch him, I’ll just have to track the imposter later. I reach down and pick up one of the rolling melons.

“Who wants one?” I smile and hold it high above my head.

Several people rush forward, grabbing melons and potatoes from the ground and hauling them back to their abodes. A little girl isn’t fast enough to get her own melon before the crowd claims them all, so I hand her the one in my hand. She smiles shyly, grasps the melon to her chest, and speeds off down the street.

Jonny appears again, breathing hard. He stops in front of me and leans over, hands on his thighs.

“I couldn’t keep up with him,” Jonny says, still panting. “Little bastard is a fast one.”

“He won’t come back,” I say. “I saved you a couple of sweet potatoes.”

“You continue to be my husband’s favorite,” he says with a chuckle. He takes the potatoes from my hand. “Why do they keep sending spies?”

“They want to know our numbers,” I tell him. “They want to know how fast we’re dying off. They want to know how long it will be before they can take up more territory without any resistance.”

“They’re not taking my home! They’ll have to kill me first!”

“Don’t put it past them.”

“Is there anything we can do?”

“Keep your eyes open,” I tell him. “Pay attention to any newcomers, and let me know if something seems strange.”

“Will do. Thank ya, Talen.”

We shake hands, and I am off again. I pass the merchants and follow the road around a curve to another residential part of Plastictown.

Much like the edge of town, discarded plastic compacted into bales have been stacked together to make walls, but the abodes are slightly larger here. Tarps on top make waterproof roofs and the insides consist of rooms made from tents and additional plastic. At the end of the brick roadway, a group of tents form a semicircle in front of the rocky edge of the river. On the other side of the river is what was a glorious skyline before the Great Eruption but is now a pile of dangerous, shifting debris. The tents are the official eastern edge of the west side of Plastictown, and the last tent on the left is my destination.

“Still awake?” I call out softly, using my fingers to rustle the fabric around the doorway. “And alone?”

“I’m closed!” a female voice calls out.

“That’s what I was hoping for!” I call back a little louder.

“Oh, it’s you! Come on in, Talen!”

I duck my head and enter the tent.

Inside is cool but still much warmer than outside and inviting enough. Candles light up the comparatively large, single-room dwelling, filling the air with the scent of burning wax. Toward the back is a large pile of bedding surrounded by sheer fabric to create the illusion of another, more private room. Right in front of the bedding is a young, attractive woman wearing a sheer gown, open from her neck to her bellybutton. Though her breasts are technically covered, the fabric is thin enough to see the dark shape of her nipples.

“Hey, Ava.”