Mmerainbows
May 6, 2015, 7 p.m.
Hell & High Water: Chapter 1: Exposition
E - Words: 7,079 - Last Updated: May 06, 2015 Story: Complete - Chapters: 45/? - Created: Jan 25, 2014 - Updated: Jan 25, 2014 310 0 0 0 0
“You dont drown by falling in the water; you drown by staying there.” - Edwin Louis Cole
It was the ten year anniversary of the day the world changed for humanity. At least, Kurt was pretty sure it was. He was one of the few people who tried to still count time by days instead of seasons, finding the ambiguity of season ends and beginnings too discomforting. He knew he was probably off - because of days lost to sickness, travelling, or leap years - but he was sure he was close.
Not that anyone else was going to care. They certainly weren't going to celebrate the fact. People were too busy in the community preparing for the oncoming winter. They needed to increase their food stores to get through it and the harvest this year hadn't been spectacular. It was up to people like Kurt and other scavengers to go to the abandoned cities and collect what they could from a time past.
Currently though, Kurt was waiting in a line to get his water ration for the day. Water was what was precious in this new world. They couldn't live near any major bodies of water, like humanity had for thousands of years, so they lived off rainwater and the occasional underground source they'd discover. Winter was better in terms of having water because the farmers would collect the snow and let it melt in the basins and cisterns they kept their water stores in. There was never a shortage of snow in this place during the winter. He still hadn't been able to pinpoint the exact location on any of the maps he kept in his shack, but he was positive they were in what used to be Canada, somewhere in central Saskatchewan.
Wherever it was - it was a safe haven for them. Far enough away from major waterways and the oceans that The Others appeared to be disinterested in taking it over, and the people here along with it. They could live here, in some semblance of their former existences, without being ruled or killed by those that changed all of their lives.
The Tides was what changed life for everyone on earth those ten years ago. The Tides brought The Others - who ruthlessly overtook all the major coastal cities first before following the rivers to continue their conquest.
Kurt had been at a William McKinley high school information night with his dad when the sirens went off. What had turned into a night where he was checking out the high school he would be attending in the fall had turned out to be the beginning of his new life. When the sirens went off and the warnings were broadcast over all TV signals and radio signals, Kurt and his dad had fled. Initially the plan was to get somewhere remote. Somewhere that wasn't populated so they were less likely to be found. That plan changed when humans realized that The Others were only interested in securing the major water sources. Kurt and his father joined up with others from Lima and headed north, to where the geography teacher from William McKinley, who was in their group, said there was fewer links to the ocean and very few waterways compared to the rest of the continent.
That geography teacher had died during the year they slowly travelled north in vehicles that ran out of gas too soon causing them to have to continue on foot. The teacher had Celiac's disease, and when you were scavenging for food wherever and however you could, special diets couldn't be taken into consideration. Malnutrition was the culprit, at least according to the nurse that was in their group. That nurse had survived and now ran their pseudo clinic in the community along with a midwife who had joined the community a few years ago. With them was Micheal Chang, who was apprenticing under both of them to be another medic for the community. Whenever Kurt and the other scavengers went to local cities, they would see if there were any medical books they could bring back for them, to help improve the quality of health care they had there.
The community wasn't suppose to be a long term thing - at least, that's what everyone had kept telling themselves and everyone else in the beginning. It was safe though. A remnant of a time long gone, when the railroad was the major means of travel and towns sprung up along it. When this railroad had been abandoned though, the metal railway ties reclaimed by the company to use elsewhere, the town had dried up. It had been a ghost town. Now it was their home.
Most of the old buildings had been fixed up as people moved into them and they were earmarked for certain uses. The old saloon became the dinner hall, where the chefs in the town ruled. The old bank was a trading hub, run by people who couldn't do anything very physical. The doctors office was still a doctor's office, where the nurse, midwife, and the medical apprentice kept their supplies and worked out of.
A brothel, or it was a brothel, functioned as an old folks home. Those who couldn't do much to help anymore because of their age, or just poor health lived there. They didn't live too long out here. It was cold, and none of the creature comforts that might have kept them alive in the past existed anymore. People didn't have time to visit them - too busy collecting water and resources each and every day. Some angry murmurs would arise every now and then - those who think the elderly and impaired should be euthanised so they don't drain resources they can't hope to contribute to. It was always silenced though. People remembered their humanity and continued on.
Lots of the other buildings became makeshift apartments for the families that settled here. Additional rooms and buildings were constructed around them so that the majority of the community's population was right on the main street of the old ghost town.
Except for Kurt.
Kurt had constructed his own little shack about fifteen minutes outside of the town limits, alone and quiet. That was how he kept himself safe. It was just one room, and that was all Kurt needed since he was only ever there to wash himself, sleep, and occasionally read. Tucked in amidst a group of trees at the edge of a nearby forest, Kurt was protected from a lot of the winds that came during blizzards, and the snow didn't pile up so much around his little home because so much of it caught on the tree branches above the shack. He had a small fire pit in the centre to help keep him warm, and his bed was a stack of deer pelts from all the hunting he did. It certainly didn't have the give his bed back in Lima did, but it was definitely warm in the winter.
Everything else was stacked. His few clothes, his tailoring and mechanic supplies, and his bow and arrows. It seemed silly to him now how much time he had spent concerning himself with fashion before The Tides. It definitely wasn't a concern now. Clothing had to be functional. Warm and durable and comfortable - nothing less or more. His dad would have been amused to see how many flannel shirts Kurt now kept - acquisitions from scavenging trips. His dad…
His dad died two years after The Tides. It was just when they had settled here and the two of them were living in one of the rooms of an old hotel. His dad had a heart attack, and despite all of the efforts of the nurse, he died there. The nurse had told him that if they had a hospital, if they had the medical supplies, if they had an ambulance to get him there, then maybe, just maybe, his dad would have pulled through.
After that was when Kurt built his own shack, away from everyone else. He was alone, with no family, and no friends to speak of at that point in time. He still mourned for his dad, but he knew he wasn't special. Everyone out here had lost people. Some had lost whole families. You just kept on going, creating a life that was, at the most, acceptable.
The skills his father had taught him growing up became more valuable than his knowledge of fashion or Broadway. He helped work on cars and vans in the early days of the community, before they ran out of gasoline to fuel the vehicles. Now he mainly serviced the solar generators they had for the chefs and medics to use. Occasionally he tinkered with one of the old, abandoned vehicles too - but only as a means to remember his dad. Nowadays, they used horses and their own feet to get from place to place.
Everyone in the community had roles to play. There were the chefs, the caretakers, farmers, guards, and scavengers. Kurt was a few things in the community. Because of his time spent in his dad's shop, he was considered the local mechanic - even though each passing year led them to having fewer and fewer motors to take care of. In addition he had taught himself how to hunt and track, which kept him busy every day to make sure there was enough food for everyone, and allowed him to substitute himself as a guard when they were short. He also participated in the scavenging efforts.
Scavenging was dangerous - at least it was in theory. It took them to the cities, which ran the risk of having them encounter The Others. However, in the past ten years, they had only caught sight of one of The Others once, and they had all ran before they even saw if that one had seen them in return. Kurt hadn't even seen it for himself, running based on the word of one of his comrades. The Others were dangerous, with powers no human could have fathomed outside of fairy tales, and they didn't seem to have a lot of regard for humans given how quickly they cut the ones down who lived on the coasts. Humanity was scattered now. Their own community, as they were told by nomadic groups, was the largest that seemed to exist now in North America. Occasionally they took in some of those nomads, but only if it was agreed upon by every member of the community. They had yet to say no to anyone who wanted to join, but everyone still wanted their say regardless.
New additions to the community were the best source of information on how things were everywhere else. Over the years they had found out that most people lived nomadically, or in very small groups - usually family based. Scavenging was still the main way people got their food, and the fact that the community had set up small farms to grow their own vegetables was unheard of. Their methods of capturing and storing water too were unprecedented. All rainwater they could collect, was collected - in everything from large basins to pots. It was then kept in water bottles which could be refilled after use. They rationed it out, even when they didn't necessarily need to after a big blizzard which brought tons of snow down, so there was always a surplus just in case.
The downside was that most people in the community only ever washed themselves down every two to three days. Kurt was probably the only one who dedicated part of his daily water ration to sponging himself off. He still, after everything, could not stand to be dirty for longer than absolutely necessary. He even used soap daily.
Part of it was he didn't want to get sick. The few times Kurt had come down with a cold or flu, he had been trapped in his bed, alone with his thoughts and he was the first to admit he wasn't good company. His mind would float between the past and the present. Remembering how things used to be, and what they had become. How even in this new world, he was still an outcast - though for different reasons. His former self seemed so naive to him now. Back then he was worried about fitting in, and making it big one day on Broadway. Broadway, which he was sure didn't even exist anymore since it was on the coast. What he did miss though was the hope he used to have. The hope that things would get better for a kid like him.
On the road to the community, he had told his dad he was gay, and his dad had been fine with it. It didn't really matter anymore if someone was gay or lesbian or transgendered… they were all humans, and as wonderful as it was that people finally seemed to realize that, it was because The Others had come. You were human or you weren't and that was it.
However, he was teased still - not for being gay or for his high pitched voice, but because of his pale skin and the arches in his ears. They weren't pointed by any means, but it was enough for some of the other kids he would have gone to school with to exclude him and call him an Other.
Depending on who you spoke to, the Others had different names - The Serpents, Hellborn, Demons… it didn't matter really to Kurt. To Kurt, they were the source of humanity's suffering and that was that. However, even though The Others apparently had different skin tones, according to the people they took into the community, the ones that had been seen those first days on TV were pale, like Kurt.
He had been bullied, out of sight from his dad, during the long trek to the north. The other kids had called him an Other, a demon bastard, and other hateful things because of the color of his skin and the fact that he had those damned high arches in his ears. He had even started wearing ballcaps to hide the tops of his ears.
They had laid off once Burt had died, at least… some did for awhile. But now, even eight years after his father's death, he was mostly ignored by most people in the community - even when they wanted his technical help. So he lived alone, away from all of them, free to do what he wanted when he wanted.
It wasn't all bad though. From turning in his hunting kills, he had made friends with Brittany, one of the chefs. She was a persistently chipper woman with blonde hair always held back in a long braid so it wouldn't get into the food she made. Making friends with Brittany led him to befriending Santana, a fellow guard and scavenger, who was Brittany's pair.
In the community, since marriage was no longer a legal issue, people paired up when they decided to commit to one another. Most people had paired off, since having sex was now one of the few pleasures left in life and people were more than happy to commit to someone who wanted to share that particular act with them.
Kurt however, was on his own in that regard too. The only other person he had discovered to also be gay was one of his former tormentors, David Karofsky, and even though David was much kinder to him now, Kurt couldn't forget some of the things David had said and done to him in those early years. He still had the scars.
Kurt was also friendly with another hunter, Quinn, and her pair Noah. Quinn had gotten pregnant while they were all still on the road and not long after they settled in the community, had given birth to a daughter - Beth. Quinn had said on several occasions to Kurt that if they had still been living in that old time, that a teen pregnancy would have been frowned upon and she probably would have had to give Beth up. Kurt suspected that Quinn was actually thankful on some level for the changes that had occurred in the world because it meant that Beth's birth was celebrated by the community as a miracle, and no one ever questioned Quinn and Noah becoming parents so young.
Now and then, Kurt would watch Beth for Noah and Quinn when they were scheduled at the same time. Noah was a guard and had a set rotation schedule while Quinn was busiest during the spring hunts - which sometimes meant they both needed to be away at the same time. In the beginning, it was difficult. Kurt had never babysat when he was younger, but he took to it quickly and according to Noah and Quinn, Beth took to him, so he always offered his help when it was needed. Now that she was eight, Kurt didn't get the chance to watch Beth anymore and missed her sassy attitude which Kurt appreciated more than her parents did. It was interesting to watch her grow up in this new world where it was all just normal to her. She would never know or understand how things were before this.
That was true of all the kids in the community. There weren't that many children as most pairs didn't want to bring up a child in this new world and, to that end, condoms and other forms of birth control were always in huge demand. The ones that did exist were doted on by everyone though, and were all taught by one of his would be classmates, Rachel Berry, and her pair Finn Hudson.
They had set up a little one-room school house a few years ago when it had become clear that this town was more than a temporary home. All the children attended during the day while their parents worked. The curriculum wasn't unlike what could be expected at a school back when he was younger, but with the addition of concepts like ‘How to Collect Water', ‘How to Avoid Others' and ‘Animal Identification'.
The majority of the community was between twenty and sixty. All the advances in medicine humanity had attained in the last few hundred years were done with. People no longer lived as long, infant mortality was high, and children under five also had a high mortality rate. Without the drugs, vaccines, and other medical developments people had been accustomed to in the old world, they had a hard time staying alive when they were little, and lasting as long when old age ailments got them. The few who did survive were weak and stayed in that repurposed brothel, watching everyone work around them while they waited for death.
In the first few years, they had lost many people not because of cancer, or sickness, but from suicide. When it became clear this was their new existence, that there was no one to save them from this, that's when people lost their minds.
Water was precious, but so was sanity.
That had tapered off though, and the people lost were replaced over time by those that stumbled upon their community and wanted to stay with them. The bodies were burned and the names etched into a wooden wall they had erected to honor those who were gone.
His dad's name was on there.
Kurt gave his head a shake and took another step forward in the line. Thinking about his dad was still hard for him, even so long after. It was why he kept himself so busy. Hunting, scavenging, baby-sitting, tailoring, mechanic work, and any odd jobs he could help out with. Aside from his small circle of friends though, it was largely thankless work. Not that Kurt was expecting thanks because someone had to do it, and without any family waiting for him at his home, he had the time to give.
At one point, he had even considered trying to push away his natural inclination towards guys in order to pair off with a woman. That's what Karofsky had done. It wasn't so much for the sex as it was for the companionship anyhow. Someone to relax with and share your troubles. Someone to keep you warm and wanted at night. Maybe even someone to have a child with. Start a family.
Another step towards his ration.
But no, starting a family would be irresponsible. As much as he loves the kids in the community, he still doesn't feel safe in this new world, and how could he bring a child into a world that isn't safe? If The Others didn't eventually find them, then there was still a multitude of other things that could end them. Sickness, lack of supplies, lack of proper sanitation, and the biker gangs.
Whereas most humans were happy to survive and live after the others came, some took the extra step and formed small gang units - plundering and stealing what they could from other humans as they decided their lives were more important.
It was the reason the community had guards posted all the time. Not actually because of The Others - because, quite frankly, if they came no human guard would be able to stop them. On their travels to the settlement they had encountered and been mugged by many biker gangs who stole their gas, their food, and anything else they deemed worthy. Some were more ruthless than others and even took advantage of some of the women and young girls.
In the community itself, biker gangs had only come close a few times. How they still managed to find good fuel was a mystery for Kurt, especially after the first three years, but they came to the community demanding food and supplies and always ended up turning around when they saw the arrows and knives pointed at them from all directions.
He made it to the head of the line, accepted his three bottles from Tina, a general worker, thanked her and started back to his shack. He was meeting several others later today for a scavenging in one of the towns they hadn't visited much, one they hoped still had something of value to bring back.
The air was tinged with just a hint of cold. Winter would be coming soon and it reminded Kurt that he needed to make himself new gloves. The ones he had been wearing had holes worn through where he held his bow and string while hunting in the winter. Wearing gloves while hunting made him aim poorer, but cold fingers wasn't something he tolerated well. He should probably repad his boots while he was at it.
That was the trade off of course though. This cold climate, where winter ruled half the year and so much time was spent stoking fires and bundling up in excessive layers, in exchange for better access to water through the snow, and the safety of a location set apart from waterways.
Kurt was a decent shot though. Growing up it was something that had never crossed his mind to do - hunting anyhow. Now, each year in the little competitions they held in the community, Kurt won the archery contest. There was no prize, other than the prestige of being the best anyhow, but it was something that gave him a little bit of respect anyhow. Enough that people had stopped bugging him about his skin tone, which had just gotten even more pale moving to a sun-lacking location, and his stupid ears.
He still wore hats to hide them, though now they had the added function of keeping his head and ears warm.
Even if the old wive's tale was true that hats made you bald.
It wasn't like he had anyone to impress out here anyhow.
When he returned to his shack, he hung his jacket up on the nail protruding by the doorway in the wall. The shack only gave him a few inches of headroom - he had built this place as simply as possible, not thinking it would still be his home so long after. Every year he patched the holes in the walls with clay from below the dirt and put a new ceiling on it since he hadn't figured out how to stop the ceilings from sagging and warping over time. Aside from the pit in the center of the small room, he had the dirt floor covered with a few carpets he had brought back with him during scavenging. The bed took up the whole area to the right of the door, and everything else was on the left.
Kurt discarded his clothes then on the bed, stripped naked in the middle of his little home and shivered while he poured one of the bottles into a pot which was sitting on the coals of his firepit. Time to wash.
He grabbed a cloth and a sliver of soap and then dipped the cloth into the warming water, wiping it up and down his body in well practiced strokes, covering himself entirely before using his soap sliver to rub bubbles into his more needy areas - face, pits, and crotch, before taking the cloth to the water again, now much warmer, and washing that soap off with the water on the cloth.
He remembers being in elementary school and the teacher telling them all about saving and conserving water. The kids in the class would agree to turn off the taps when they weren't being used and only water their gardens once a week - even though most of those promises were broken within a few days. Now no one wastes any drops. When Kurt finishes his bath, he puts his dirty socks into the pot. The water is shallow, but it's enough to get them clean. Socks are worth their weight in gold here. A good pair is well taken care of because they discovered in the first year here that no one wants to endure frostbite in their toes.
God he would kill for even a cold thirty second shower now.
His fear of being sick is what kept him away from apprenticing with the group of medics in town. He was singled out a few years ago as having the intellect for it, and the steady hands, but he couldn't stomach having to deal with death so closely. It was one of the factors that kept him from getting too close to anyone aside from his small pack of friends. He didn't want to have to mourn anyone as deeply as he had, and still did, his parents.
Everyone had changed like that though. Quinn, who had been a beautiful little princess years ago, was now hard and tough, her hair always cropped short so it didn't get in her way. Santana had always been lean and strong, but now she had the scars to prove herself. Noah was the strongest of them all, if only because he had the build and bone structure to support having that much muscle. Finn, once a naive and chubby boy was now hardened by reality and solidly built. Mike, who used to entertain everyone with his ability to dance, was now only letting his fingers move so nimbly as he worked on patients and tried helping with emergency surgeries. Brittany… well she was still as cheerful and kind as ever, but when you looked her in the eyes closely enough, you could see the sadness behind them.
This was how they adapted. In the end they were only one type of animal on this planet, and now subject to the rule of the superior species - the Others.
“Anything in there?” Kurt barked back into the shop where Santana and Quinn were scouring for any medicine they could find.
“Not even a bloody tylenol. It looks like someone else has been through here… but who knows how long ago…” was the grumbled reply. Kurt nodded and kept looking through the broken window. He was keeping his eyes open for any patrols, or anything even remotely threatening.
Like last year, when of all things, a wolf had jumped into the store they were going through and tried to get a bite out of Santana. Quinn took it down before it laid a tooth against her skin, and that night they ate wolf. It had a very odd flavour - but the variety was appreciated.
The cities and towns had been reclaimed by the earth, and the only ones who stayed in them anymore, at least as far as Kurt had seen, were the animals who had made dens out of many old homes and shops. While the Others patrolled out here, they never camped in the cities. Rumors suggested that their camps were under the water. Quite frankly, Kurt didn't care where they camped - so long as they stayed away.
A few more minutes of shuffling and digging in the rooms behind them and the girls reappeared, “Not a damn thing. Let's check out another site.”
Kurt nodded, and waited until Santana led the way. She always went first. That's how it was. She was the most elite guard among them, so she would get the first shot at any kills.
That being said, they were always careful, and while Santana had scars from animals and human gangs they had encountered during scavenging, she had none from the Others. They never took that risk if they could help it. The closest they had come was three years ago, when Quinn said she could see them rising from the river. They took off immediately when she had said it. There was nothing to be gained by sticking around to confirm it.
The next establishment they went into was one of those pharmacies that doubled as a gift shop. He remembered how his mother would take him to one like it when he was younger, sniffing the perfumes and talking about which figurines they preferred while the pharmacist got her prescription ready.
This one though look like a riot had passed through it - which it probably had. When the Others invaded the cities, people grabbed what they could. Those who were left living after the first strikes raided stores for things they thought would be valuable. Over time, human gangs and other communities did raids of their own. Eventually these old cities would have nothing left to offer them and then they would all truly live off the land like their ancestors had.
In the meantime, the girls would gather what little they could find while Kurt kept their eyes open and alert. Kurt always had his bow readied, and at the end of the day he knew his arm would be sore from the pressure put on it so continuously, but again, it wasn't worth the risk not to.
“Ooo.. some amoxicillin.” Quinn preened from the back room where she had gone to gather anything she could find. Kurt smirked a little. Ten years ago, no one would have been excited to have found penicillin lying around, now it was like a miracle.
They discovered a few more items that the medics would be happy about, as well as some chocolate bars - which were really not that exciting. If there was one thing that had lasted through The Tides, it was prepackaged junk food. He remembered living off the stuff while on their journey north. He could really do without it - especially since they no longer had dentists and dental plans to take care of their teeth.
A few more items were stuffed into their packs - toothbrushes (thank goodness), soap (could never get enough of that), nail polish (apparently the girls still wanted to look pretty), baby formula (most women breastfed when they had their babies, but they found the formula was useful for those really sick who couldn't eat whole food), as well as a myriad of other odds and ends.
Then there was the real miracle.
“Tampons!” Shrieked Santana, holding up a box triumphantly.
“Santana… I will give you all my chocolate bars and a water bottle for that.” Quinn immediately offered as she moved towards Santana to see the item in question.
“Oh hell no. This is mine. I am going to forgo stinky old nappies this month I tell you what!” Santana made a little whoop and Quinn grumbled under her breath about selfish bitches.
“Both of you, just shut up. Do you want to draw attention to us?”
“Maybe if it gets Santana killed so I can have those…” Quinn uttered under her breath, tossing Santana another irritated glance which was returned with a smug, cocky smile as Santana put the box into her backpack.
“Next!” Santana declared once she had packed away her prize and led them down to the next store, and the next, and the next - until their bags were all full and night was creeping up on them.
They found an apartment building and set themselves up in a room on the top floor, where they could eat take turns watching out the window throughout the night - not that it stopped Kurt from tossing and turning. He was never settled when they were in a city. He loved his friends, but didn't trust his own safety enough with them watching out for him.
It was always depressing going into someone's home, seeing their pictures, and the remnants of their life. Wondering if they were some of the few to get away, or some of the many to be swallowed up by the waters. There were no bodies when The Tides came - they were all taken back by the oceans, seas, and waterways.
In this house were pictures of a young woman, long brunette hair and dark brown eyes, always with a younger male version of herself. Were they brother and sister? he wondered. She didn't look that old after all. Or maybe she was his mother and maybe that would explain the tiny apartment with no indication of a father anywhere.
Whoever they were, they were long gone.
Kurt took the first watch, and his friends passed looks between themselves knowingly. Too often Kurt would take the first watch and then allow the second and third watch to be skipped while he stayed up. He would let them sleep since he wouldn't be able to.
But they were also long past fighting with him on the issue. If there was one thing he was, it was stubborn. He wouldn't eat the fattiest parts of a kill even if there was nothing else left to eat, he never let himself sleep past sunrise, and he never ‘took it easy' despite how many of the mother hens of the community insisted he did. He was always there to help out and contribute as much as he could. If he died from working too much, it would be alright. He hadn't paired off, so he could do that extra bit to help out.
Before his friends dropped off to sleep, Quinn turned on the walkie talkie and sent a message back to the community to check in, and also make sure all was well there. After years of not being attacked, they were still insanely vigilant about making sure all was alright still. They had all lost one home, they didn't want to lose another, and Quinn had a daughter to look out for now.
Then it was silent aside from the light snores from his friends and the bugs and birds that made the occasional chirrup or creek. Sometimes he would hear a wolf or coyote howl, but otherwise he was alone with the night.
Looking at the city at night was nothing like looking out of his shack at night. He could play pretend in his mind. Envision this place without all the plant overgrowth and with people walking up and down the streets, cars honking and driving all around, and no sign of danger anywhere.
Sometimes he would put himself out there in his fantasies. Sometimes he would be the music store owner, helping match people to the music that moved them. Sometimes he was a tailor, making clothing that made people look better than they thought they could ever look as it hid all their imperfections. Sometimes he was a barista, running around like crazy to fill everyone's coffee orders.
In all his fantasies, there was someone to go home to, and his dad was alive and remarried, having met some wonderful woman that made him happy and took care of him so Kurt felt okay about leaving the nest to go live with a boyfriend. Sometimes he envisioned celebrities as his boyfriend, sometimes just random people. No matter what though, his fantasies always had him feeling loved from that person, and he was always eager to go home to them.
When he was feeling especially adventurous, Kurt would also imagine a home with children. His father would visit and swing a little girl up in his arms, laughing with delight while Kurt readied a big supper, complaining to his boyfriend about how they needed a bigger place to seat everyone while the imagined boyfriend would laugh it off and pat him on the back.
Then Kurt could come back to his own reality - fatherless, boyfriendless, and definitely childless. His home barely fit him, let alone anyone else, and he hadn't cooked for himself in what seemed like ages. He seemed to recall enjoying baking as a means to soothe himself when he was upset. Now he had to settle for shooting rabbits with an arrow.
He also wouldn't know how a real job would work. He had been too young when The Tides began to understand how the economy really functioned. As far as he knew, you did a job, you got paid, and then you spent that money on things you wanted. The older members of the community sometimes joked about how grand it was not to have to pay a mortgage or a car loan anymore, but somehow Kurt felt he'd rather be paying those things than existing as he did.
And it was just existing. He didn't know how to define it, but there was a difference between existing and living, and he knew he was doing more of the former than the latter.
He leaned into the shelf of the window, keeping an eye out. This was a small town though, and they hadn't even run into any animals, let alone any people. It was actually quite peaceful. Perhaps they'd bring the horses back here and use them and the wagon to haul some mattresses and other larger items back to the community. It didn't seem like anyone had been there in quite some time.
But of course, Kurt thought that too soon.
In the distance he could see a rise of dust in the air, and a loud hum that grew as the dust came closer to the town. He called back to the girls who got up without question and grabbed their weapons while he watched through the window.
It wasn't coming from the direction of the river this town had been built along, it was from the other direction, and that humming.
Had to be a gang.
“Can you estimate how many there are of them?” Santana asked as she looked over Kurt's shoulder to the group heading their way.
He squinted, something was off about this particular group. For starters, those engines didn't sound like motorcycle engines, and the build of the machine's they were riding were too wide.
But he could pick out individual riders from this distance, not their faces or any other details, but he could see each of the individual dots they made on the landscape.
“We're looking at about twenty. Builds suggest most or all of them are male. Better to just hide out and hope they pass through. Let the community know - though... they don't look like they'll be heading in the direction of the community.”
Quinn immediately got on the walkie talkie while Santana squatted and watched through the window with Kurt. It quickly became clear why things were off when the gang started coming closer, they weren't riding motorcycles, they were riding all-terrain vehicles (ATV's). That was new. Kurt squinted to get a closer look. They were indeed all men, or at least, some of them might have been ugly women. Their ATV's were all colors and brands and each one looked like it had been personalized with names on the sides that Kurt couldn't make out. He reminded himself they needed to find a new pair of binoculars one of these days since the last pair had fallen out of a tall window when Santana had dropped them while she argued with Quinn about who was on watch while Kurt went to relieve himself. If they weren't so good at what they respectively did, Kurt wouldn't have put up with it.
The group stopped and parked their ATV's as if they were regular vehicles back in a time when how you parked mattered. They were at the edge of the town, though on the same street, and still a ways away from where Kurt and the girls were camped.
“If they go into that store, we go out the back of this building and run to the horses.” Kurt ordered.
There was no argument, and as Santana and Kurt watched each and every one of the gang go into the shop at the end of the street, they made a mad dash down the stairs and out the back of the apartment. They didn't stop and they didn't look back until they reached their destination - the nearby forest where the horses were in the makeshift corral they had made for them.
As Kurt pulled himself up on one of the horses, he glanced back to the town, confirming they hadn't been followed and probably weren't seen while Quinn and Santana were already riding their horses away.
They were safe for now.