Astrid feels herself waking up.

The moment she returns from her dream, her stomach greets her with an ache. It's not really painful, but still a very persistent reminder. Her mouth feels dry, and unlike yesterday morning, she’s not full of energy. Even though she feels empty, she is too awake to stay in bed. As Astrid opens her eyes, she realizes it's still dark. Just like every other morning, she tries to close her eyes and clear her mind, but her brain is restless. Staying still is almost painful, so Astrid just gives up.

The young elf sneaks downstairs, where she finds Fynn and the Sheriff in the living room. They are cleaning their weapons in the light of a flashlight. They both look up as Astrid enters.

“Morning,” she whispers, closing the living room door behind her.

They both nod.

Astrid sits on the couch and watches them. Fynn is using a metal rod to push pads through the barrel of his gun. The Sheriff has disassembled her pistol and is wiping the pieces with a rag. A can of oil stands on the table between them, its sweet smell filling the room.

They don’t say anything as they work. Astrid needs something to distract her, so she searches for anything to talk about. With no better idea, she tries to start a conversation, “So what are you two doing?”

“Cleaning our guns”, the Sheriff replies.

Astrid wants to ask them if they have anything to eat, but she knows they don’t. ‘It might also be a bit insensitive. Yesterday Fynn found out that his mother was murdered by a vampire and the only thing I can think about is eating.’ She curses her stomach, but the organ is unimpressed by her anger and continues its incessant demanding. She needs something to distract her.

She wonders why Fynn is awake. Of course, the Sheriff is up early because she’s an elf and they always seem to wake up early, but Fynn is still human.

“Fynn. How are you doing?” Astrid asks.

“I’m fine. Just couldn’t sleep. That’s all.”

The Sheriff lifts a piece of her gun and inspects it. “He was actually up before I was. That’s a good thing though. I say we wake Noah at first light and head back to the farm as quickly as possible.”

The two continue silently cleaning their weapons. Seeing as they don’t seem to want to talk, Astrid gets up and walks towards the door that leads to the backyard. The Sheriff shoots her a quick glance but doesn’t stop her.

She steps through the shattered glass panel and onto the stone terrace. The air is cool and the moon shines its pale light from a cloudless sky. Countless stars dot the black void above, coming together to form a nebula of light that stretches across the sky.

She stares into space, mesmerized by the tiny lights in the sky. Something rustles in nearby bushes, causing Astrid’s eyes to snap in the direction of the sound. While her heat vision gives her a rough idea of her immediate surroundings, the moonlight allows her to distinguish shapes further away. The ominous shadows make everything even creepier than absolute darkness.

The air is cold and a strong wind makes it feel freezing. It doesn’t bother Astrid though. She sits down on a wooden chair and lets her eyes wander back to the sky, as she tries to remember the dream she had earlier. Something about a gang. She silently curses herself for not writing it down as soon as she woke up, then remembers that she can’t read anymore, and probably can’t write either.

For the first time in what feels like forever, she really has time to think. The past few days are little more than a blur. Astrid wonders, ‘What are we going to do when we get back to the farm? Should we stay there? I got very lucky meeting the hunters and I don’t envy anyone sitting in their houses with nothing but gardening tools to defend themselves against monsters like those invisible things or that apparently bulletproof creature.’

She wonders just how many people she has seen die these past four days. ‘First there was the policewoman, then Fynn’s father, though I didn’t really see that. Then the two thieves and the man they shot. Then the man I shot and the woman who hit me over the head. I wonder if killing her was the right thing to do. I mean, I didn’t have time to think about it back then, but looking back, was it a fair reaction? Maybe I should have given her a chance to surrender. No. That would have just given her the opportunity to hit me again. If you’re dumb enough to attack someone with a gun, you have to be prepared to get shot. That man I shot when I burst through the door though… that wasn’t right. I should’ve paid more attention. Damn, I never thought I’d ever kill someone, but here I am. Two lives snuffed out by my own hands.’ Astrid tries to examine her own feelings. She searches for some sort of remorse or guilt. She only finds her aching stomach. ‘Why don’t I feel anything? I felt incredibly stressed and guilty when I faked my mother’s signature, and every other time I did even the smallest bad thing. Why is there nothing now? No racing heart, no stress, no remorse… I should feel dirty. I should feel like a different person. So why don’t I? I need to talk to someone about this… or maybe I shouldn’t. I don’t want to look like a cold-blooded killer. It must be my new body’s fault. Is the Sheriff feeling the same way? Nah, she probably never had problems killing people, even before the fog. Maybe I should talk with her…’

Astrid sits, thinking, until the sun finally starts to rise. As soon as the first rays appear on the horizon, the Sheriff opens the door.

“Let's go.”

 

Astrid goes to wake Noah, and as soon as Fynn is finished saying a few words at his mother’s grave, they leave the small house behind and make their way back to the farm.

A gripper is patrolling the air above them, so the group tries to stick to the trees as much as possible. They also pass one of those massive armored ankylosaur-like things. While most other animals retreat into the forests, it grazes on the field in peace.

As they get closer to the farm, they notice that the platform usually occupied by a sentry is empty.

They watch for any breach in the barricades around the buildings, but there are none. Even the makeshift gate in the car barricade is closed.

 “Hey. We're back!” the Sheriff calls.

“Sheriff Winkler? Wait a moment.” They hear the Mayor’s voice. A moment later, she pushes the barricade open. She has changed out of her formal clothes and is now wearing a dirty overall and rubber boots. The sunburn-like injuries on her skin from the fog have gotten better, but now her eye is swollen and blackened.

The Sheriff groans and massages her forehead. “What happened?”

They walk their horses inside and the Mayor pushes the makeshift gate shut.

“We were attacked by a group of soldiers,” the Mayor says.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake. How much shit is this world going to throw at us? I mean seriously!” the Sheriff yells.

None of the others know what to say. After a short pause the Sheriff adds, “Whatever. We'll handle this. Let's get the horses unsaddled and then you can tell us all about theses soldiers.”

 

They put the horses into their stalls, then gather in the office.

The Sheriff throws herself into a chair. “All right, so what was that about some soldiers attacking you – or rather, us. The farm doesn’t look like it’s been destroyed.”

The Mayor sits down at Fynn’s father’s desk. “We were just doing the stuff we normally do. You know, reinforcing the barricades, trying to figure out a way to gather more food. The usual. Then a group of eight people came along on motorcycles. Three men, one woman, two female elves and two kobolds. They were wearing army uniforms and carrying assault rifles. So that group comes up and we were like, ‘Awesome. So we’re not alone.’ Anyway, they said they wanted to talk to our leader, so I went and greeted them. They told me they’re from the High Rock Base and that they’re setting up a government in this area and that we’re now part of that. So far so good, but then they said that now that we’re part of their country, we would need to pay taxes. I told them we’d help any way we could, and they said they needed food. They asked for some outrageous amount, so I told them that we didn’t have any. Then he saw the watch on the roof and asked us how we got guns. I told him you were hunters and he said that now that we’re under their protection, we don’t need those anymore. They’re going to confiscate them. I got a bit angry at that and told them that this whole thing seemed more like a shakedown than anything else and that we wouldn’t be bullied by them. They all cocked their guns and he hit me in the face with the butt of his gun. Then he told me that unless we paid up, there would be trouble. Luckily one of the hunters then intervened and fired a warning shot at their feet. There was almost a full-blown shootout, but before that could happen, their leader said we have three days to pay our taxes and deliver all our weapons and ammunition to the ruined castle on top of the mountain. Then they drove off.” As soon as the Mayor finishes her account, all heads turn towards the Sheriff.

The elf looks a bit lost in thought. After a few moments of tense silence, she slowly says, “We met them at the gas station when we got fuel for the tractor. Was the Colonel with them? He got turned into a black-skinned female elf.”

“The one who talked to us was a human man. Some of the others didn’t take their helmets off, so he could have been one of the elves. But I doubt McFadi would let anyone speak for him.”

The Sheriff shakes her head as she massages her forehead. “Uff… The Colonel seemed nice when we met them at the gas station. I don’t understand why they would do something like this all of a sudden.”

“I doubt the Colonel would allow something like this. Maybe the soldiers mutinied…” The Mayor suddenly looks up from the table. “But that doesn’t matter. Fact is, they are threatening to kill us all and I have no idea what we’re supposed to do.”

The Sheriff frowns at the Mayor. “What do you mean you don’t have any idea? We know where they’re operating from and allowing them to attack us on their terms would be idiotic. They’ve left us with two options: attack the High Rock Army Base High School in a preemptive strike, or pack our things and leave.”

The shadow of an empty smile creeps across the Mayor’s lips. “I knew you wouldn’t even consider giving in to their demands, but just leaving? I mean, they’ll still be here, no doubt terrorizing the entire area. And we can’t attack them. We only have a few rifles. How would we go up against at least a dozen soldiers with assault rifles?”

“Both options are bad, but we’ve been swimming in crap for the past few days so that’s nothing new. What does everyone else think?”

Noah raises his hand. “I say we put it to a vote with everyone.”

The others mutter in agreement, causing the Mayor to nod as well. “That’s probably the best idea. We’ll call everyone together. In case we leave, we should come up with a place to go. Any ideas?”

Astrid sees her chance to help her mother. “Ground Lake.” Everyone looks at her. “Our grandparents live there, or at least they used to before the fog, and we have two merpeople. We can bring them to the lake and set up shop there.”

The Sheriff shrugs and the Mayor looks around at the others. No one else makes a suggestion, so she says, “All right then. If the majority decides to leave, I guess we’ll head south towards Ground Lake…  Either way we need to act quickly, so if there’s nothing else, let’s gather everyone to vote.”

 

They head to the pond out back. Astrid gives her mother and brothers a quick recap of their mission while they wait for everyone on the farm to come together. Once they’ve all gathered, the Mayor explains the situation to everyone.

As she talks, Astrid realizes just how few people are left. The crowd here is not even forty people strong.

After repeating everything they talked about in the office, the Mayor finally says, “To sum it up, we have two options. We can stay here and fight these people. That would mean going up against an unknown number of soldiers armed with assault rifles, with our hunting weapons. The other option is to abandon the farm and move somewhere else. We would avoid the bandits, but we would leave behind the safety of this fortified farm and travel south towards Ground Lake. Now that everyone is up to speed, does anyone have any questions?”

“Why don’t we just give them what they want?” someone asks.

Before the Mayor can answer, the Sheriff says, “Because I refuse to be left defenseless against a group of bandits, but let’s add it to the list anyway.”

Several more people raise their hands. The Mayor points at the next person.

“How would we even fight people like that? We’re not even all armed.”

Before the Mayor can answer, the Sheriff says, “It’s difficult and we might all die. Now let’s vote before we waste any more time. Everyone who is in favor of giving the bandits what they want, raise your hands now.”

One person raises their hand.

“Who is in favor of staying and fighting?”

Two people raise their hands.

“Who is in favor of leaving?”

Almost everyone raises their hands, except for the Sheriff and the Mayor.

The Sheriff sits back down and the Mayor says, “The overwhelming majority has decided. Pack whatever you have left and gather your loved ones. Come morning, we will set out towards Ground Lake.”

The crowd disperses.

 

Astrid is glad they decided to leave the farm. She really doesn’t want to fight actual soldiers. The only problem now is that if they leave, her father might not follow. She’s not one hundred percent sure the dragon is her father, but the possibility is too great to ignore. Now they are leaving, she has to figure out a way to contact the dragon, and she has to do it before the day ends. The horseback battle also didn’t help the wounds all over her body. Especially the burns on her hand feel like knives rammed into her flesh, she can’t pull out. She considers asking the doctor to take another look at them but discards the idea. They need time to heal. There is nothing Dr. Moore can do about that.

She is on her way to talk to the Sheriff when her mother calls her name.

“Hey… Mom. What’s going on?” Astrid asks.

“Elijah told me about your theory that that dragon is your father.”

Astrid glares at her brother. ‘Should’ve remembered he was there when we talked about that. Damn.’ “I’m sorry I didn’t tell—”

The merman cuts her off. “It doesn’t matter. I have a lot of time to think in this pond and I’ve come up with a way to make your father come here. A big fire. We need to light a big fire. The smoke should be visible from really far away. It might take a while for him to investigate it, but I’m sure he’ll come.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to the Sheriff. I hope it works. See you later, Mom.”

She turns to leave, but her mother says, “Take Elijah with you. He’s the only one who looks like his old self. Your father might not land if he doesn’t recognize anyone.”

“Kilian, Elijah. Let’s go talk to the Sheriff.”

 

They find the Sheriff in the kitchen with Fynn and Noah. The room is filled with food: buckets of plums, a few pumpkins, as well as several baskets of a fruit Astrid has never seen before. The new fruits are all about the size of small bowling balls and purple like raspberries, but hard like apples. Their surface is a bit like that of a golf ball, with several indentations.

“Astrid. Fynn,” the Sheriff says with a full mouth, “look at what the others gathered while we were busy. Come. Eat.”

Astrid feels her stomach grumble and almost jumps to the table. The cooked pumpkin tastes bland, but she doesn’t care. While she's eating, she points at the weird fruit and asks, “What is that?”

Fynn looks up from his meal. “They found it growing basically everywhere. The others call it akfruit. Tastes bad, but they say it's safe to eat.”

Astrid grabs one of the ‘fruits’ and takes a bite. It's like biting into an extremely juicy apple, but a mostly tasteless one with a bittersweet background.

‘These things are definitely reserved for the dying-of-hunger time,’ Astrid thinks.

She eats until she can't take another bite. The fruits and vegetables fill her stomach, but they don't leave her satisfied. She feels like she wants to devour the entire rest of the table but can’t because there’s no more space inside her. It’s a weird feeling she doesn't remember ever having before. At the very least, the burning in her stomach is gone for now, and she remembers why they wanted to talk to the Sheriff in the first place. Astrid quickly explains her mother’s idea to everyone.

The Sheriff looks a bit lost in thought. “That could work, and getting a magic acid-spitting dragon would be valuable. I’m not sure where we should make the fire though.”

“I have an idea,” Fynn interrupts. “I say we pack our things and then we torch the farm. The massive amount of smoke should attract your father, and that way we make sure those bastards don’t find anything they can use.”

Astrid stares at Fynn. “Isn’t this your childhood home? If we do that, there would be no going back.”

“I would rather see it turned to ash then leave it to be plundered.”

Astrid feels repulsed by the idea of setting fire to everything. Even though Fynn’s reasoning is understandable, destroying everything feels wrong. Of course, it’s more likely to attract her father than a tire fire.

The Sheriff sets down her cutlery and strokes her imaginary beard. “I don’t really like the idea of destroying a perfectly good farm, but we’re leaving for good anyway, so….”

Astrid still doesn't like the idea, but getting her father’s attention is her top priority, so she doesn't object.