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It was a relief when Syn found the fields her mom had been tending. It was difficult at first to see the signs of cultivation since her mom had, understandably, wanted to avoid being noticed. The fields looked as though they were growing wild but as soon as Syn ducked her head beneath the bowing canopy of grain stalks and vegetable vines she discovered neatly tended irrigation channels. There were small, makeshift pots that held clusters of weeds, allowing them to grow up within the fields but not actually growing with the crop and competing for nutrients within the soil. Upon closer inspection, Syn found that the flowers and seeds of all the weeds in those pots had been carefully trimmed away to prevent them from producing any offspring. As luck would have it, a good amount of the crops was ready to be harvested, meaning Syn’s lack of food supplies would no longer be such a pressing issue. Of course, she still needed to actually harvest the crops and preserve whatever she wouldn’t need in the immediate future, but those were all things she had grown up doing.

The work was grueling, however. The more Syn moved around, often on her hands and knees, the more her abdomen pained her. Before long she noticed fresh blood beginning to seep out and it was then that she knew she couldn’t just push through. The last thing she wanted to do was sit and do nothing, and yet she had to give herself time to heal.

Lying on her back, looking up into the roof rafters, Syn used the time to at least plan out her next steps in greater detail. The potatoes she could harvest about any time she wanted since they could just sit in the ground and be just fine as long as she got to them before the ground froze. The wheat field would need to be harvested soon, though, since if she waited too long they would begin dropping their grain. The squash wouldn’t be ripe for a few more weeks at the earliest. There were a few fruit trees and berry patches scattered about that she hadn’t yet been by to check on but if they were still producing then they should be ready in a few more weeks as well. The grain, once harvested, could be stored in one of the burlap sacks Pierce had left behind in the pile of supplies he’d found. The squash and fruits could be mashed and dried before being stored in the root cellar along with whatever potatoes she could harvest.

It wouldn’t be the most balanced diet, but neither would she be so malnourished that she was worried. Depending on how quickly or slowly the harvest went, Syn would see if she could set any traps in the hopes of catching some rabbits or other small game. Even a little meat could make a big difference to a meal here and there throughout the winter.

After a couple hours of resting in the house, Syn made herself get back up. This time, she tied a few strips of cloth around her stomach to help keep pressure on the wound. Besides allowing her stomach some time to recover, her break had also kept her out of the hottest part of the day.

Dragging one of burlap sacks behind her, Syn made her way down to the wheat fields and began harvesting. Rather than cutting down the stalks as she had done growing up, she instead grabbed the heavy tops and worked the grains off the stalk by hand. She’d seen spots along the edges where it seemed her mom had been harvesting using this sort of method. It made sense since any sort of modern harvesting methods would be visually apparent right away. She’d still need to sift the grains to get rid of the chaff but this would suffice for now.

Working so low to the ground, surrounded as she was on all sides as well as from above by the wheat, she found it quite peaceful. Even though this was nothing like it had been for her growing up, sitting there and harvesting the grain still brought back so many memories from before. The sights, sounds, and even smells from that time filled her so completely that she wasn’t really aware of how much she had done until it came time for her to turn in for the night. She had filled just under four sacks of grain, leaving them near the edge of the field for her to collect at the end of the day. Using a small cart that she’d found, she loaded up the sacks and began towing it all back towards her home. Eventually she would need to spread out her work, rather than taking everything back to the house. For one thing she didn’t want to wear any of the paths down too much, but she also knew there were buildings designed for things like processing the wheat and such that would be far more efficient. For now, though, only having to worry about one place and keeping things close at hand was more important.

It wasn’t until she was almost to the house that she noticed the bit of light emanating out from the nearby trees. Immediately, Syn stopped moving. It was the flickering light of fire, she realized, and not the steady light of searchlights, so she knew it wasn’t a patrol. It was dark enough outside that she was fairly confident she couldn’t yet have been seen. Leaving the cart behind for now, Syn shifted off the path and deeper into the shadows. Besides the firelight, there was no other sign of who or what was out there. No voices, no footsteps, no sounds besides the occasional breeze reached her ears.

Sitting in the dark, her heart pounding so heavily she worried it would become audible to whoever was out there. The longer she sat there, the more she worried that she had, in fact, been seen, or perhaps heard as she’d made her way up the path. Was there someone else sitting in the dark, just out of sight, wondering who or what Syn was? It seemed incredibly unlikely that just anyone would happen to wander into this valley within days of her and Pierce’s arrival. As much as her mind tried to place a patrol into the shadows, she knew it didn’t add up. Patrols swooped in with their loud and heavy machinery, spotlights and the hum of electricity were their hallmarks, everyone knew that.

The source of the firelight was far enough into the trees that Syn couldn’t quite make out how far away it was exactly. It could have been a small lamplight a few paces in, or it could have been a decent sized campfire significantly farther away. But who would be foolish enough to use either? Firelight could be easily seen from miles around. The valley would afford some shelter from watchful eyes, but still, anyone standing on the ridge would immediately see the light.

Syn sat on the verge of indecision, debating whether to go forward or backward. Should she go see who this is or flee while she still could? Finally, some movement caught her eye and she stared intently, trying to will herself to see in the dark.

Pierce stepped out from the trees.

His features were difficult to make out but it was definitely him. He paced back and forth a few times outside the house as if uncertain before pushing open the door and going inside. Syn waited, listening to the faint sounds as he moved about. A moment later he came back out, his movements more frantic now. He began pacing yet again but this time it seemed more out of a desire to go in multiple directions at once and he kept changing his mind after every few steps.

“Syn!” Pierce hissed. “Syn are you out there?”

She wanted to slap him and tell him to shut up and to put out whatever light it was that he’d left burning.

“Syn, I’m back!” Pierce continued to call in his half whisper.

“Pierce?” a new voice called out from the woods.

Pierce whipped around at once.

“Keep quiet!” he told the newcomer, although his voice was almost as loud as the others.

“Pierce, what’s taking so long?”

Another man stepped out of the trees and joined Pierce on the trail in front of the house. As he turned to face Pierce, his features caught the fire light and Syn recognized him as one of the men Pierce used to spend much of his time with. Had Pierce gone back, somehow, and gathered more of his friends? Was that where he had gone? If so, it had been incredibly risky and foolish. Yet how he could have managed it on his own was beyond Syn’s understanding.

“What is this?” the newcomer asked Pierce, pointing to the house. “Did you just find this? Is there anything still inside?”

His excitement was palpable and he moved to go inside but was caught short by Pierce.

“I told you to keep it quiet,” Pierce told the man, still holding his arm in a tight grip.

“Hey, look, none of us has made a sound this entire time, now let me go.”

“Go back and wait with the others like I said,” Pierce gave the man a small shove and let him go.

For a moment it looked as though the man would challenge Pierce over this but then thought better of it and turned back to the trees. As he left he called back over his shoulder, “Don’t think none of us heard you calling out for someone a moment ago. We know something’s up.”

Pierce looked on as the man faded away into the trees, his expression still hidden from Syn. Regardless of his methods or reasoning for having gone back and collecting more of his old friends, Syn didn’t want any part of that group. When it had been just her and Pierce, she’d been able to maintain control since she was the only one who knew the way. Now, however, with seemingly easy access to food and shelter, Syn doubted Pierce and the others would be so easily convinced to press onward. How badly they outnumbered her now was impossible to say but she knew her time in this valley was at an end.

As quietly as she could, Syn moved back onto the trail and maneuvered her cart back and away. She’d go by the potato fields and gather up as many of them as she could before carrying on, up and back out of the valley. Pierce and the others could have it. She doubted it would take very long before they were discovered, judging by the careless manner in which they had made camp.

It was well passed midnight by the time she was finally leaving the valley. Her hands were caked in dirt from her digging around in the dark but her cart was now well loaded with potatoes, in addition to the four bags of wheat she’d previously gathered that day. She also managed to swing by the well and refilled her water jug. At the crest of the ridge line that surrounded the valley she turned back and looked down. She had been so hopeful about finding respite there, and yet she’d found only more strife and turmoil. The firelight still shone up through the trees and Syn could only shake her head at their foolishness. How they couldn’t see the danger they were in was something she couldn’t understand. Didn’t they –

Syn froze. The ground beneath her hands and knees trembled slightly. At once she threw herself beneath the cart, ignoring her stomach, as a massive airship rose above the ridge line nearest Pierce’s campsite. Syn was on the opposite side but still she remained still. With luck, the cart would hide her heat signature from the airship’s instruments. She could just make out the shapes dropping from the airship and down into the valley below. Light erupted over the entire area as the patrol swept through, knocking down whatever trees or buildings that got in their way. Reports of weapons firing echoed around the valley only briefly.

It was a terrible risk to move since she was certain the airship had motion sensors on it as well but she knew the patrol wouldn’t be satisfied until they had searched the entire region. With that in mind, she began to ease the cart along, inch by inch, all while staying crouched beneath it. The patrols were already spreading out along the valley in their concentric search patterns by the time Syn had moved far enough along that she was no longer in sight of the airship. As soon as she was certain the airship couldn’t see her anymore, Syn crawled out from beneath the cart and, still ignoring her stomach, stood up and began hurrying herself and the cart away. If she could reach the plains below before the patrols reached the ridge, then she just might make it. There was a river that ran along between where the plains met the mountain and if her memory was correct, there was a small boathouse there that she could either try to find shelter in, or if she was particularly fortunate, find a boat that she could use to put even more distance between herself and the patrols. Either way, she wouldn’t let herself rest or think about her injuries until she had reached the plain.