Chapter 32
Stella
The heat finally broke a week later around the time the rolling foothills gave way to a rugged alpine pass. We were in the final stretch before we’d reach Xwechtáal, where we would be able to get some respite.
By then, we were all in desperate need of a break. Dougal’s condition hadn’t worsened, but it hadn’t improved, either. The task of maneuvering his stretcher up uneven elevations had increased the work exponentially.
Everyone managed it without complaint, and when things felt especially treacherous, all four of us would grab a pole and get through it. But that didn’t change how taxing the trek had become.
Our rations were dwindling, as game grew more scarce the higher we climbed.
The last fresh meat Edie had gotten were a few ground squirrels, and that had been ten days ago.
We had to make do with our dried meats and stretching our last bits of flour out in brittle hardtack biscuits.
Most mornings, Fergus and I were out foraging to supplement our provisions.
He was also hoping to find wild yarrow (Achillea millefolium), which could help Dougal. So far, he hadn’t had any luck on that particular herb, but he did manage to find wild raspberry leaves that he brewed into a tea. Dougal said it settled his stomach a bit, so that was something.
The others managed better than I did without fresh meat, but I tried to keep my hunger to myself. I didn’t want to explain the constant cravings or my frequent dreams of tearing into the soft warm flesh of any living thing I could get my hands on.
I was hardly sleeping as it was. A few hours here and there when I was certain that Boden or Edie were awake. The others thought I hardly slept to repel the zombies away, and that was part of it. But I was far more worried about summoning them again.
Finally, the village of Xwechtáal came into view, but even from a distance, it wasn’t exactly what I was expecting. Both Lazlo and Alphie had assured us that while small, Xwechtáal was friendly to outsiders and boasted an inn that served food in the evenings.
As we approached, all I could really see was the fence, if it could even be called that.
It was a defensive barrier made of sharpened logs driven into the ground at staggered angles with their aggressive points aimed outward, and not a gap between them to let anything through.
The logs were lashed together with thick, rusted strands of barbed wire, and a few corpses of zombies had been left tangled in it to rot.
In general, the wall of splintered wood and twisted metal did not look very welcoming.
“Is that our destination?” Leandro asked, sounding as skeptical as I felt as Xwechtáal loomed on the horizon.
“I can recheck my map if you want, but I do think that’s it,” I said.
“There’s no way around it anyway.” Boden motioned to the sheer mountains that jutted from the earth on either side of the village. “If we want to get to Glacier Valley on the other side, we gotta pass through.”
“Looks like a bloody porcupine,” Fergus muttered. “Here’s hoping none of us end up with a spike in the gob.”
“Probably they’re being prudent,” Edie theorized as we continued. “Everyone wants to find a way to keep the zombies out and stay safe.”
The mountain trail leveled out and led directly to a heavy wooden gate set into the formidable fence, the only visible entrance. The gate itself was reinforced, flanked by watchtowers, and looked every bit as impregnable as the rest of the barrier.
“You there!” A woman leaned her head out of the second story window on the watchtower and shouted down at us.
“Do you mean me, or the group as a whole?” Boden asked, stepping out in front of us.
“Whoever speaks for you,” she replied. Her hands gripped the window frame, and her black hair was pulled into a long braid.
“I’m Charlie Boden, and I’m travelling with my family and friends.” He motioned back toward us. “Can I ask who you are?”
“I am Daiyu Chen,” she said. “I am the Warden of Xwechtáal.”
“I have heard your town is open to visitors,” Boden said. “Is that not true?”
“It is, but only those that are deemed physically fit,” she said.
“What do you mean by that?” Fergus piped up.
“Any signs of the lyssavirus are not permitted inside the walls,” Daiyu said. “These signs include but are not necessarily limited to: evidence of exposure such as bites and scratches, uncontrolled aggression, hydrophobia, and fever.”
“Fever?” Edie echoed, and she stepped forward, joining Boden. “But there are so many other reasons for a fever outside of the lyssavirus.”
“We don’t need any contagions here,” Daiyu replied. “All of you will need to pass a health inspection before you are granted entrance, but I can see from here that one of you is unwell. What is the nature of his ailment?”
Fergus and Leandro had set the stretcher down when Daiyu began her questions, and Fergus stepped forward now, moving closer to Boden and Edie.
“That’s my brother, Dougal,” he said. “He’s been feeling off for some time now. The rest of us are grand, so I doubt it’s catching. Sure it’s been weeks, so it’s not the zombie virus. You can give him the once-over for bites, if it’ll settle you, but he’s no danger to your lot.”
“If he has a fever, he will not be allowed in,” Daiyu said definitively. “All who pass the health assessment at the gates will be allowed in. All who do not will have to stay beyond the fence.”
“It’s as simple as that, is it?” Fergus asked with a sardonic smile.
“Yes, it is as simple as that,” Daiyu said, her voice unyielding. “I cannot risk the safety of those in my community, no matter your assertations.” She glanced toward Dougal. “Those we cannot enter are welcome to stay outside the walls, and others in your group can barter on their behalf.”
A tense silence settled over us, and Boden and Fergus exchanged a look.
“I’ll stay out here with Dougal,” Fergus said. “Go on in, the lot of you. I won’t have you missing your chance just ‘cause the doors swung shut for my brother.”
After the agreement had been reached, the gate opened for us. Daiyu stayed in the tower, watching as our group split in two. We gave our brief goodbyes to Fergus and Dougal, and we promised to help set up the camp and take turns outside with the two of them.
A thin woman in a trench coat greeted us, and then took us into a small room at the bottom of the watchtower for our inspections.
Each of us went on our own, except for Fae and me, who were allowed to stay together.
Fortunately, it was a quick once over for bites, getting our temperature taken, and drinking a glass of water.
In under twenty minutes, Boden, Edie, Leandro, Fae, and I had been cleared and were free to explore Xwechtáal on our own.
Beyond the sturdy gates, the village sprawled across the uneven ground, its layout dictated by necessity more than design. Weathered timber formed the walls of squat buildings, their roofs patched with anything that could keep the temperamental weather at bay.
Smoke curled from chimneys here and there, hinting at life inside the makeshift homes. Narrow paths wound between the structures, edged with wild grass and spiky purple and blue lupine (Lupinus arcticus).
In the shadow of snow-capped mountains, the people of the village moved about with ease.
Chickens flocked in the streets, and I spied an orange tomcat dashing between buildings, chasing after a fat rodent.
Near the center of town were communal gardens and greenhouses made from repurposed windows and scrap metal.
Unlike in Fort Lately, the townsfolk here paid us no mind.
The Revvers had all stared at us, but then again, we had also been brought into the fortress by armed guards.
Here, we were allowed to freely walk around.
Daiyu had pointed us down the main street, letting us know the inn was across from the gardens.
The main lodging of the town had existed long before the virus broke out, dating back to the 1970s based on the gabled roof, faux-stone exterior on the main floor, and peach cladding on the second.
Nine rooms and a small dining room took up two stories, with the rear wall nestled into the mountain behind us.
Above the door was a sign with “The Foxglove” written in orange bubble letters with the final e curving into a puffy fox tail. In planters on either side of the door were bright pink, white, and yellow foxglove bells in full bloom.
Inside, a stout woman stood behind the desk decorated with more faux-stone. Behind her, the walls were golden oak wooden paneling, and several framed watercolor paintings of foxes were on display.
“You all look like you could certainly use a rest, so I assume you are here for a room,” the woman said, greeting us with a warm smile.
“Yes,” Boden said as he approached the front desk. “I don’t know exactly how payment works here, but I was hoping to find enough beds for four adults.”
“Well, we can certainly help you here,” she assured us.
“My name is Jannifer Campbell, and here in Xwechtáal, we work on a barter system. Right now at Foxglove, the things we need the most are silver, ammunition of any kind, fresh meat, especially deer, elk, or moose, chanterelle mushrooms, wild plums, kerosene, batteries of any kind, and books, although the value really depends on the book. We are completely stocked up on copies of the Bible, the Qur’an, and Dan Brown. ”
Boden frowned. “Unfortunately, we don’t have any of that right now. Is there anything else we can do?”
“Of course!” Jannifer smiled. “There are always options. You wouldn’t happen to have any…” She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. “Alcohol, marijuana, opiates, or grinleaf?”
“I’m not sure what grinleaf is, but I know I don’t have any of the others,” Boden said with an apologetic smile.
“We can always use any kind of medicinals,” Jannifer went on, speaking at a normal tone again. “Bandages, antibiotics, ointments, anything like that.”
Boden looked back over his shoulder at Edie, who was in charge of our medical supplies. They exchanged a look that I couldn’t quite read.
“Anything else?” Edie asked, as opposed to directly denying that we had any of those things.
“Well, I’m personally looking for the third book in the Broken Earth trilogy by N. K. Jemsin, if you have that on hand,” Jannifer said. Then she brightened slightly and touched her wrist. “Oh! I broke my watch last week. If any of you have a working watch, I’d be happy to barter that.”
Leandro stepped forward, unhooking the timepiece on his wrist. “What would we get for this?”
Jannifer let out a low whistle. “For that? I’ll give you four beds for… three nights.”
“We only need one or two nights,” Boden said.
“Well, I can’t really make change for a watch,” Jannifer said.
Leandro brushed her off. “It’s fine. Can we get a room to rest in?”
“Yes, of course.” Jannifer turned around and grabbed a key off the corkboard on the backwall. When she looked back, she seemed to notice Fae, who still wrapped on my back.
“Oh, you’ve got a little one?” she asked, her voice brightening and her eyes widening with astonishment. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen a baby.”
Jannifer leaned in, her face softening. “She’s so precious.” She gave Fae a gentle wave, then straightened herself, her professional demeanor returning as she gestured for everyone to follow her. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room. You all deserve a bit of comfort.”
“There is one thing I did want to ask you,” Boden said as Jannifer led us down the hall to our room.
“And what’s that?” she asked, smiling brightly over her shoulder at us.
“We’re looking for a family member of ours. We think she might’ve come through here,” Boden explained. “Her name was Remy?”
“Remy King?” She looked back at us, surprised and gave a strange laugh. “Of course I know of her. It’s hard to forget someone with a lion in tow.
“So she was here?” Boden asked.
“She was, but she left about the end of May,” Jannifer said. “She went to Glacier Valley with our chemist Jordy Duvall.”