Chapter 18
Stella
We all agreed to meet on the foredeck at first light. The shuttle boats were lost in the fire, but there were a few lifeboats that stayed with the Barbarabelle. Someone would be able to row the lot of us and all our gear to the shore and then row back after we left.
Boden, Edie, Fae, and I were the first ones there on deck, which wasn’t surprising. The others slowly drifted in. Ryder and Leandro with Bianka and Murphy trailing to say goodbye. Then came the O’Hara brothers, Fergus and Dougal, both chipper and energized about venturing off the boat.
Finally, Sienna, Oakley, and their eight-year-old daughter Juniper appeared, but I was actually a little surprised to see them at all. They had been quietly arguing about it since the dining hall announcement, or inadvertent recruitment session, depending on how you looked at it.
From what I could tell, Oakley was very resistant to the idea. I don’t know how Sienna was able to finally convince him, but they all arrived together in time to leave with us.
“Since we’re all here, we should double check our gear and make sure we have what we need,” Boden announced. “We’re going to be on the road for months, and we don’t know how many other friendly communities or trading posts we’ll find along the way. So we need to be prepared for anything.”
“Um, I can help with that,” a voice piped in behind us, and we all looked back to see Alphie standing there. She had an overstuffed backpack on, and she toyed uncertainly with the straps on her shoulders.
“How do you mean?” Boden asked.
“I know the area around Fort Lately really well, and I can help you navigate it,” Alphie offered. “I know all the best passes and trails for steering clear of Revvers or other unfriendlies.”
“Do you think we’ll have a problem with the Revvers?” Sienna asked.
“Some people have,” Alphie replied noncommittally. “It is best to avoid them.”
“And you can do that?” Boden pressed.
Alphie nodded. “I can. I’ve gone out on foraging missions, and I know the area well.”
“Okay then,” Boden decided. “You can come with.”
By the time our group had been ferried across the river, the sky had shifted to a pale, uncertain gold, as if even the sun was holding its breath.
In a loose, shuffling caravan, we started out, boots crunching over dew covered grass.
Boden and Ryder headed up the group, with Alphie a few steps back to offer advice or direction if needed.
I stayed in the middle with Edie and Fae.
Since she was so small and couldn’t do much walking, I wore Fae carefully but snugly wrapped in fabric on my back.
I was able to carry some supplies in a large cross body bag I wore over my shoulder, but Boden unfortunately had to haul nearly half of mine and Fae’s belongings.
Thankfully, he had a massive expedition backpack that was taller than Juniper and weighed three times as much as Fae did.
Somewhere behind me, Fergus hummed under his breath, and Sienna talked to Juniper about sticking together.
It was a fragile optimism that clung to us, a sense that if we kept moving, we would be safe.
I’m not sure how much any of us believed it, but sometimes, the act of pretending was the only protection we had.
The hours blurred into kilometers through unending forests, marked only by the changing light and the slow unraveling of exhaustion.
It was strange how quickly things became routine, even on the road.
Nights camped out beneath tree branches or under holey roofs, either way the stars and bugs always got in.
We all woke with the light and ate a quick breakfast together before packing up and moving on again.
Despite the age gap between the children, with Juniper six years older than Fae, they had managed to become friends of sorts.
They would play together whenever we took breaks, chasing each other around the trees or collecting bright flowers and big bugs.
While we walked, Juniper was often behind us, making faces and talking to Fae strapped on my back.
In the evenings, after everyone was settled in and the light was fading, Fergus and Dougal would tell stories around the campfire, often with an assist from Leandro or Edie.
Sometimes they regaled us with fairy tales, other times they rehashed the plots of old movies, like Star Wars or The Princess Bride.
No matter what, Fae and Juniper were completely enraptured.
And then, after the girls had finally fallen asleep, I would work on my scrapbook for Fae by firelight.
Even after most of the others had gone to bed, except for whoever was keeping watch, I would be awake.
It was important to me that after all this, Fae was left with something more substantial than memories.
One morning, three days into our journey, we all sat around the dying embers of our fire, except for Ryder. He’d had last watch, so he got in a few extra minutes of sleep. A few people talked quietly among themselves, and the bugs and birds were already abuzz.
I was feeding Fae her breakfast of dehydrated fruit and biscuits. I was hungry myself, but I couldn’t stomach anymore dense crackers or salted meats, so I chose a rumbling stomach and sipping water. Besides, it helped conserve our food.
Boden was sitting across from me, eating venison jerky and hardtacks, when he suddenly tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at me.
“What? Is something wrong?” I asked.
“No, nothing wrong.” A slow smile spread across his face. “I just remembered what today is.”
“Oh.” I laughed, because I’d nearly forgotten, too. It was one of the only things that I remembered from my life B.Z., and I almost missed it this year.
“What?” Fergus asked, his curious eyes darting between the two of us. “What’s today meant to be?”
“The sixteenth of June is Stella’s birthday,” Boden said.
“Happy birthday!” Juniper shouted immediately, causing Fae to babble something that sounded like bir-birb-da.
“I can’t believe I forgot!” Edie immediately looked apologetic. She was sitting beside me, so she threw her arms around my shoulders and squeezed me to her. “Happy birthday to my favorite little star.”
“So, what do you want for your big day?” Boden asked after the others had finished with their well-wishes.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I demurred, shaking my head. “We’re on the road, and turning seventeen isn’t that special anyway.”
“Ah, seventeen years and still standing in this world? You’d be mad to not make a fuss,” Dougal insisted.
“Yeah, we always tried to do something special for birthdays,” Boden reminded me.
By the pain in his eyes, I knew he was thinking back to the parties we’d had at the Lakehouse. It had always been a big to-do with homemade gifts, games, and the tastiest meals. But that was back when the family had all been together. When Max, Serg, Remy, and Ripley were still there.
“Sure, yeah,” I said, because maybe we all needed this. And since my stomach was growling, I admitted to an actual want I had: “Fresh meat would be fantastic. I know dry travels better, but it doesn’t have quite the same taste.”
Boden thought on it and nodded. “Okay. I can do that. When we bed down this evening, I’ll head out and see if I can scrounge up a few hares or something.” Then he looked to Edie beside me. “You in?”
“You can always count on me,” Edie agreed with a laugh.
“If you’re going out hunting tonight, I’ll be happy to go with you,” Leandro offered.
“If you guys get something good, I could make up a little feast,” Oakley added. “Or even if you don’t get anything good, I can probably work a little magic.”
“You don’t have to go to too much trouble,” I tried again to decline.
“Come on, now, we all need a little magic,” Dougal said.
That finally quieted my protests, and I accepted my fate with a grateful smile.
In the late afternoon, we came across an abandoned cabin.
It wasn’t exactly habitable, with part of the roof and one wall missing, but it was still safer than sleeping out in the open forest. The floor plan was quite small, occupied by a rectangular living room, rustic galley kitchen, and a bedroom with an open loft area above it, so it would make cozy sleeping for the eleven of us tonight.
After we decided to set up camp in the cabin, Boden, Edie, and Leandro went out on a hunt. The rest of us stayed back to scare out the field mice, clean out the cobwebs, and put a tarp over the gaping hole in the bedroom wall to keep the bugs out.
Since the space inside the cabin was so tight, Oakley focused on creating a nice firepit in front of it. He used a few logs, rocks, and even a couple of “recovered” half-rotted canvas lawn chairs to create a quaint sitting area around it.
Fortunately, we had finished by the time the intrepid hunters returned. Boden led the way, proudly carrying ten pounds of racoon meat.
“I know it’s not the best meat, but it is definitely fresh,” Boden explained, as if I would ever denigrate his gift of food.
Honestly, my mouth started salivating the moment I caught a whiff of the tangy, metallic scent of fresh blood. I didn’t say that, though, because I didn’t want the others to know about the gruesome intensity of my cravings.
Oakley got to work with practiced hands, butchering the animal and preparing it for the roasting spit.
The raccoon meat was tough and gamey, but he handled it with a kind of reverent expertise.
He even brought out his satchel of what he called his “tactical spices,” and they scented the air with bold garlic, bright ginger, and woodsy juniper berries, or Allium sativum, Zingiber officinale, and Juniperus communis.
“Don’t cook it too long,” I told him as I stood transfixed, watching the flesh sizzle and pop over the flame.
Oakley looked over at me, startled and a little disgusted. “What? It’s raccoon.”
“I know. But…” I had to swallow to keep from drooling, and as emphatically as I could, I tried to explain, “I like my meat on the rare side. Even raccoon.”
“You’ve eaten it that way before?” Oakley asked, growing even more dumbfounded.
“Many, many times,” Boden confirmed wearily.
Oakley glanced between the two of us, then shrugged and grabbed his cooking knives. “Normally, I don’t let anyone tell me how to cook, but since it’s your birthday, I will give you a rare cut.”
He sliced off a few tender strips of the backstraps, his blade sliding easily through the crispy mahogany flesh and the juicy pinkish meat underneath. It smelled and looked so delicious, I wanted to grab it from him and eat it with my bare hands, devouring it in rabid bites.
That would likely alarm my travelling companions, so I used all my restraint to wait until after Oakley had nicely plated it with a side of foraged vegetables and biscuits lathered in lard.
But as soon as I took my first bite, I couldn’t help myself. I let out a euphoric groan. “Mmmm. That is so delicious.”
“Oh, is it?” Dougal asked, sounding utterly intrigued. “Can I have a go at it while it’s a bit underdone?”
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Oakley replied.
“Ah, sure, a little bit won’t do any harm,” Dougal insisted.
Oakley sighed and set to making up a serving for Dougal on a tinware plate. Dougal sat down beside me and excitedly dove in.
“It’s good, yeah.” He equivocated, turning his head this way and that as he chewed. “Not saying a word against you, Oakley, it is a fine thing. But I do believe that Stella may have exaggerated with her delirious mmmmm.”
“It wasn’t delirious, and I wasn’t exaggerating,” I insisted through a mouthful of food.
“You’d know well enough by now, dear brother, that taste’s a fickle beast,” Fergus said with a smirk. “Mind you, I’ll not be lifting a fork till the chef gives his blessing.”
Raccoons didn’t have that much meat, so it didn’t take long for it to cook. Still, when Oakley declared it done, I had already finished eating. This time, I couldn’t hold back, and I licked the plate.
Oakley only responded with laughter. “That is the highest compliment a chef can receive.”
The feast went on with quiet fanfare, and even the girls seemed to enjoy the meat, although I made certain that Fae ate hers very well-done. Long after we finished, and the conversation and laughter faded, we lingered around the fire.
We were tired, bellies full, but no one wanted to drift inside the cabin to sleep quite yet. Instead, we fell into tranquil contentment, punctuated by the crackling of the fire and the distant, mournful call of a barred owl. For a fleeting moment, it almost felt safe.
But as the embers waned, a prickle of unease returned. I gathered up Fae and carried her into the cabin.