Page 21 of Mated By the Pack
As we get closer, I see shattered concrete walls, rusted shipping containers, and the twisted remains of machinery that has been scrapped down to the bones. The walls, containers, and old machinery form a barrier. From the barrier, several watchtowers have been constructed from scaffolding that looks to be made of ironwood. Men with rifles stand in the watchtowers, and they straighten as we approach.
“Carl said Haggard is expecting us,” Frank says as we get close to the gate. “Hopefully that’s true.”
The gate is made from metal that has been welded together. The dents and marks on it suggest it’s defended The Outpost a few times from whatever threats emerged from The Tangle. Two men with rifles approach the front of the cart. They don’t seem to be surprised or bothered by the sight of Frank, so I assume hybrids aren’t uncommon visitors for them.
“What’s your business?” The man on the right glances past the slavers, eying us. “Slaves? There’s no auction for weeks.”
“Haggard is expecting us,” Jeb says, jerking a thumb toward Carl. “Well, expecting him, but he’s taking a nap.”
The man on the left steps forward and leans over, looking at Carl. “Oh, yeah. I recognize him. Let them in.”
The guards walk back to the gate and open it. It’s set up on rollers that groan and creak as the metal scrapes along them. Jeb cracks the reins and the cart moves forward, hitting a few bumps as we enter.
The Outpost is nothing like Haven North. There is barbed wire strung up along the wall. Shacks have been constructed from rotting wood and rusted metal. There are campfires everywhere, and the air is thick with smoke. The people I see look scrawny and disheveled, but most are armed. The humans, at least. I see a number of hybrids. Some are disfigured with boils and wounds that look infected. The stench of decay and rotted meat permeates the air.
“This place looks awful,” Fiona mutters.
“Y-yeah,” Tansy agrees, tearing up for the first time since we were thrown back in the cage. “Smells awful, too.”
“You know what I’m noticing?” Nara asks, groaning a little as she shifts. “I haven’t seen a single woman, except for us.”
I swallow hard and look around as the cart continues down a muddy, bumpy street. Some liquid splatters into the cage and I don’t have to get close to know there is more urine than water in the muddy slop.
“You’re right,” I whisper, noticing some hungry stares from a few of the men we pass. “No children, either.”
The stench lessens as we continue deeper into The Outpost. We pass shops that are set up, and I catch a glimpse of the wares being peddled. Old rations that don’t look edible, rusted weapons, alcohol, and various trinkets. Silver seems to be the currency, just like in Haven North, although we rarely ever see it. Most of our transactions are done with coupons that represent the money in our account.
“There’s Haggard’s place,” Jed says, pointing out a structure that looks a lot more lavish than the rest.
Haggard’s house, if you can call it that, is a palace compared to shacks we passed. It looks like it was built with timber and freshly poured concrete, rather than scraps from the world that existed before the solar flare. The road here is paved with broken pieces of concrete and rocks. They make the cart bounce several times as we approach.
“Alright,” Frank growls. “You can deal with Haggard. I’m going to get a drink. Stop by the tavern and get me when it’s time to meet the buyers.”
“Haggard will have drinks,” Jed says. “He’s always generous and he’ll be more generous than ever once he sees what we’ve brought him.”
“I don’t want to drink with Haggard,” Frank mutters, glancing at me as he walks past the cage. “I need to be alone for a while.”
“Alone? In a tavern full of people?” Jeb asks.
“Exactly,” Frank answers, continuing on without looking back.
The slavers park the cart behind Haggard’s house and get out. There’s a canopy that hangs over a fire pit with several chairs and tables. There’s more mud here, but it doesn’t smell like piss. Our conscious captors haul Carl out of the cart and carry him around the corner.
“If we’re going to run, now is our chance,” I say, hurrying to the cage door.
“But where will we run to?” Tansy asks, looking around nervously.
“The wall,” I answer. “I thought it would be safer for us here, but if we’re the only women, we’re going to stick out. We’ll have to take our chances in The Tangle. It’s the only option we have.”
I’m not eager to face the untamed wilds again, but I don’t want to be anyone’s slave. I hold my wrist near the lock, waiting for the vine to respond, but it doesn’t.
“No, no, please work!” I whimper, shaking my wrist frantically. “Please turn into a key! Or whatever you do! I’m begging you.”
I close my eyes, concentrate, and try to make the vine respond with willpower, but nothing happens. The only response I get is the gentle pulse that beats with mine.
“Well, fuck,” Brenna mutters.
I hear laughter and pull my hand away from the lock. Jeb and Jed round the corner, with a hefty man following them. He looks like he’s had his fair share of rations, and plenty of real food, unlike most of the other people at The Outpost. I assume it’s Haggard.
