Chapter 31
After two months trekking through the snow, ice, and general misery of winter, Asha discovered that the mythical Valley that Madigan had spoken of really existed. She had to admit that she was surprised, especially when the electricity and indoor plumbing also turned out to be real.
It was a sprawling farming community surrounded by largely impassable mountains.
There was only one plausible way in and out, via a concealed mountain pass that still involved a lot more climbing than Asha preferred.
Still, she got over the difficulty quickly, because to say that the residents did not welcome her there was a vast understatement.
From the moment she arrived, they treated her and Claire with suspicion and sometimes open hostility.
Many refused to trade with them. Asha dealt with their stares every time she walked the dirt roads between their homesteads, no matter where she was going.
A few times, children threw rocks at her.
Worse, Zach Jameson—who seemed to be the Valley’s asshole prodigal son—often wolf-whistled at her and made obscene gestures when he saw her on the road.
She often walked those roads to get in and out of the Valley, since she preferred to spend her time alone than in the company of people who either didn’t understand her or treated her as an invading force.
The Valley always needed people to scavenge in the Wasteland for materials, so she volunteered.
She now spent far more time away and alone than she did at the Madigan farmstead, which was probably for the best…
especially since Kimmy was starting to get ideas about their alleged romance and grumble about Asha’s complete disinterest in commitment.
She wandered the frozen wilds alone, often aimlessly, stopping in abandoned towns and villages to scavenge supplies.
She spent many a night in some derelict building, barely motivated enough to move.
A deep despair and self-loathing had settled inside of her, and when she wasn’t running away from it, it paralyzed her.
It was a few weeks before Asha came across a fenced-in village at the edge of what had once been a city.
Madigan had mentioned that there was a trading post near the Valley, and she’d been determined to find it.
Now, up to her shins in fresh snow, she stood outside the gate and read a hand-carved wooden sign that read The Post. The two guards at the gate eyed her warily.
The name struck a chord deep inside her. Where had she heard the name before?
Unprompted and unwelcome, Cade’s voice whispered in her head: It’s a Wastelander settlement up north. Only a hundred-and-fifty kilometres or so from the Delta.
So close to the compound, she thought with no small amount of longing. There has to be a way to get there.
But she knew getting there was only half the battle.
Getting inside was another matter entirely, and it would require convincing them to take her in.
She had no idea how to do that, but if she could find a way to contact them, she’d think of something.
Anything. She needed to get out of this hell, and if it meant selling her soul a second time, she’d do it.
A guard at the gate made an impatient noise. “Lady, are you going in or what? You’re blocking the road.”
Asha jumped. Somehow, she’d lost touch with her surroundings. It seemed to happen a lot now. Her own thoughts consumed her whole.
“Yes,” she finally decided. “I’m coming in.”
“Fine. I never seen you here before, so the basic rules are: don’t steal shit, don’t instigate shit, and don’t be an asshole. We got no problem dragging your ass out, or putting a bullet in the back of your head if you cause trouble. Got it?”
Asha nodded, and they permitted her entry into the little hamlet carved out of a city suburb.
It was only a few streets, but it was cleaner and more orderly than any gang settlement she’d visited.
The people looked relatively healthy, with meat on their bones indicating that they were decently fed.
There were no beggars in the streets, and the aging buildings had been patched up and repaired; someone obviously maintained them regularly.
All along the main street where she stood, there were stalls of wares, with merchants calling out to the few passersby.
She walked the strip somewhat nervously, but after a thorough search, she realized something remarkable: there was no slave market.
No terrified young women or girls staring at their feet while some asshole bought them.
Relief shot through her immediately, and she wondered how it might be to live in a place like this.
Maybe she could live here, instead of the Valley?
She had no idea what she might do here, except…
Asha stopped short in front of a stall that appeared to be selling, of all things, old radios—the kind that people used to talk to one another.
Though the Guardians had never used radio, she’d heard since then that, although it was rare, it was pretty much the only long-distance form of communication left.
In fact, she’d seen Madigan use one to talk to other Valley residents before.
If that’s true, she mused, then the Delta must have one, too.
She approached the stall, where a grumpy-looking old man sat, surveying her with thinly veiled suspicion.
“Do these radios still work?” Asha asked, hoping she sounded friendly. She hadn’t tried to sound friendly in so long.
The old man pshed at her. “Well, I wouldn’t know now, would I? How am I supposed to test ’em, huh? No power out here. You buy ’em as-is, miss, and find your own power source. No refunds, no exchanges.”
Asha raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re selling merchandise that you don’t even know if it works?”
He huffed again. “I told ya, didn’t I? Buy ’em or make way for better customers. Makes no difference to me.”
Asha suppressed an eyeroll, then walked away from the stall. As if he has a line of customers just waiting to buy his Old World junk.
She didn’t have anything to trade at the moment, but they had alcohol back at the farm, which she knew was a hot commodity that could buy just about anything in the right amount. It was stored in the cellar, and surely Madigan wouldn’t miss one bottle.
It wasn’t exactly ethical, but then again, she’d once sold herself to a renegade soldier who murdered his own father, so in comparison, stealing a little whiskey seemed tame.
Besides, since Madigan thoroughly hated her, he might ultimately be pleased if she up and disappeared one day, never to be seen again.
Asha walked back towards the gate, a new, dark hope brimming inside of her.
“This—piece—of—fucking—garbage!”
Asha slapped her new radio in disgust. She was in her bedroom at Summerhurst on a blustery winter morning, seated on the floor next to the outlet she’d plugged the stupid device into.
To her surprise, the old machine had initially whirred to life when connected to power, despite its obvious age.
The old man at the Post hadn’t scammed her after all, which should’ve been cause for celebration.
Except that even after a half hour of fiddling with the knobs and controls, the damn thing had shitty reception. The only signals she could hear came from radios already inside the Valley. It definitely would never reach the Delta from there, but she knew of no other place where she could power it.
She paused, thinking hard. The radios inside the Valley were mostly handheld and battery-powered—unlike this one—and carried by what passed for first responders in this miserable place. Madigan had one, but he kept it on his person at all times, so it was unlikely she could steal it from him.
If there was a way to get one of those radios, she thought, I could take it to the Post and try to get a signal from there. It’s much closer to the Delta.
It was an incredibly risky idea. No one would willingly give her such a thing, even if she had something valuable to trade. She had no idea how she would manage it.
Still, in the meantime, she’d envisioned an idea for how to persuade the Delta to take her in. There was a great deal of technology here in the Valley that didn’t seem to exist anywhere besides the compounds, and she suspected that they would be very interested to learn of its location.
Of course, that meant that everyone here would be imperiled, but given that they treated Asha like trash, she didn’t much care about any of them.
She knew they’d likely see a community of Wastelanders with technology—any technology—as a threat that ought to be neutralized.
But by the time that happened, it’d no longer be her problem.
The bonus would be rescuing Claire, as Asha didn’t believe that they’d be willing to harm another compound person.
Likely, they’d take her in as well, and things could perhaps go back to the way they were.
If only Asha’s attempts to persuade her friend of the danger of their situation worked, maybe Claire would even agree to go with her when the time arrived.
She recognized the darkness in her heart, and the secret horror of her plan. Some part of her screamed at the injustice of what she was doing. But Cade had been right about one thing, in the end: they did what they had to in order to survive. Whatever it cost. Whatever it left them with.
Safe. All I want is to feel safe again.
“Asha?” Claire called outside Asha’s bedroom door.
Asha panicked, shoving the radio under the bed and hurrying to get the door.
“Morning,” Claire said with a small smile. “Want to come milk the cows with me?”
Asha could hardly think of anything she wanted to do less—something about milking really disgusted her—but she nodded reluctantly and followed her friend out to the barn.
Claire thankfully handled most of the actual milking, but they were interrupted by the appearance of Zach Jameson, which instantly made Asha wary.
He was a tall, lanky thing with a mop of brown hair, barely more than a boy—perhaps twenty at most. He still seemed to enjoy following her around the Valley whenever he spotted her, peppering her with various bits of sexual harassment.
He was dumb as a box of rocks, and the only thing they had in common was how much they hated Madigan.
“You sure scare easy,” he jeered at Claire. “Can’t imagine what Madigan is thinking, bringing you here. You think you won’t face far worse than a little spilled milk before we kick your ass out?”
Asha rolled her eyes as Claire made some retort that was far politer than she’d have been.
“Go home, Wastelander,” Asha said to him, sneering. He was just another little man who thought he owned the place by virtue of existing in it. After Angel, he didn’t scare her in the least.
I eat men like you for breakfast, little farm boy.
Eventually, Kimmy arrived, took one look at the scene in front of her, and her eyes turned to steel.
“Get off my land,” she demanded. “Now.”
Zach huffed and held up his hands. “Fine. I’m going.”
He left, and as Asha stared after him, the wheels in her head began to turn. She thought back to her radio problem. Maybe she couldn’t get her hands on one of the Valley’s radios, but perhaps someone who had the inside track…
Someone stupid. Easily manipulated. Young, even. Inexperienced.
“I’ll follow him to the gate,” Asha said suddenly. “Make sure he leaves.”
The other two accepted her explanation without suspicion, and she ran out of the barn after Zach. She followed him almost to the gate of the property to ensure they wouldn’t be overheard. She had to make her next move very carefully.
“Hey!” Asha called after Zach. “Wait up.”
Zach turned in surprise, but his expression instantly became wary.
“What do you want, outsider?” he asked curtly, crossing his arms.
“I just want to talk,” Asha replied, keeping her tone casual. “Look, I know it’s been a big adjustment, letting Claire and me live here.”
“Let?” he sneered. “We haven’t let you do anything yet.”
She shrugged, forcing her temper down. This was too important.
“Regardless, I’m sorry we’re in your space,” she continued. “But you seem like a pretty important guy around here, and…”
Asha paused for effect, glancing at the ground in imitation of nerves. As if she’d ever be nervous talking to this worm. Regardless, Zach paused, leaning forward slightly toward her, and she knew this was going to work. If she could just find out what he wanted…
“Maybe we could help each other out,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes ever so slightly, wondering if she was laying it on a bit thick as she leaned toward him. “You know a lot of important people, and…well, I’m sure there’s lots of ways I could give you a hand, if you want.”
Zach had been staring at her intently, and he suddenly cleared his throat.
“You offering to suck my dick, outsider?” he said, and Asha almost laughed. No one could say he didn’t get right to the point, but if this was how he normally talked to girls, it was no wonder he was a virgin. And she could already tell that he definitely was.
Instead, Asha managed a demure, kittenish giggle that she’d never done in her life.
Cade would’ve been incredulous that she could even produce such a sound.
She regretted the thought of him, if only because he’d hate that she was doing this.
But he was the reason she was in this mess, so he didn’t have a right to object, even in her head.
“Maybe we could discuss it sometime soon,” she replied, gently brushing over Zach’s jacket with her hand. “Tell me where to meet you.”
The stupid boy followed her hand with his eyes, and she could practically see all the blood in his body rushing to one particular place.
“Meet me at the gate to my family farm,” Zach said shortly, though she could sense his excitement underneath his clipped tone. “Tomorrow. Noon.”
“I’ll be there,” Asha said with a wink. “See you then.”
She turned back toward the barn, feeling elated. Finally, fucking a guy would be to her advantage. It wouldn’t be her exploitation, humiliation, or a betrayal so deep that it still reverberated inside her scarred soul. She wouldn’t be the victim ever again. She wouldn’t be used up and thrown away.
The only way to survive the darkness is to become its mistress, darling, he’d said to her what felt like a lifetime ago. Now, the darkness of this world would bend to her will, obey her command, help her survive.
Still, it felt, for the first time in a long time, like freedom.