#copyrighted work

“There's some people coming! Survivors, by the look of 'em!” Luke called out from the balcony, pitching his voice low. He was on lookout that day.

The old man sitting in the alcove below, Henderson, grunted and looked up from his ledger. “How many?”

“Three. One's in a bad way. Leg's dragging. The others are supporting him on either side.”

Henderson stood up fast, briefly knocking his chair onto its back legs. It thunked loudly back down. “Are them damn fools leaving a blood trail straight to us!” He emphasized incredulously, starting for the stairs to have a look for himself.

Luke squinted. “I see only clean grass and dirt behind them...and just them three. They musta doctored him enough before coming here.”

Henderson just grunted. After a moment he sat back down and resumed going over lists of supplies. “Ash will have to see to them. The injured one at least.”

Luke looked uneasy. After a moment, “You want me to tell her?”

“I will. When they get here.” Henderson paused. “When I've assessed them.”

He was waiting for them some minutes later; door open just far enough, smiling and amiable and aimed like a sword. They paused and looked uncertainly at him.

“Well, you're almost to safety, you gonna slow down now?” He said, easily. “You're going straight for the door after all.” Henderson leaned back and opened it a bit wider.

The woman of the group spoke. “You'll let us in? We've heard about this place. Someone told us...” Her face screwed up and she stopped talking, looked frightened.

“Told you what.” Flatly.

She looked at the other man, who was helping support the injured one. They both looked at the wounded man as well. They all looked scared. “Yeah...we were attacked, out too far from shelter when the sun set. We tried to get back in time, we just moved too slow.” She swallowed hard. “Our friend had been telling us about this place she'd heard about, and a hunter that killed...them. The waning light caught us by surprise” she trailed off and looked down as if ashamed. “Anyway, we tried, like I said. To get back to our place. But Screamers caught us and Heather got killed. Kit was hurt but....we still got inside.”

“And then decided to leave the next morning, aye?” Henderson tried to calculate the distance Kit might have been able to travel.

“It was getting crowded there anyway. Supplies were running low. Only a few people know how to grow food, or how to gather it. And hardly anyone knows about fixing hurt or sick people anymore. It was time to go.” Her eyes welled with tears, she bravely blinked them away.

They'd been driven out because of the young man's injury. And because they'd been caught outside so near to sunset. Probably having sex and therefore distracted. Henderson knew that. More, these young folks knew it. He could see it all over them. Well, he ran this damn place to try to help people didn't he? And he was wasting time gabbing at the door when all could be discussed inside.

“Get in,” he said abruptly, moving aside and shoving the heavy oak door wider. The two stronger adults dragged their burden in, and Kit smothered a moan of pain.

“Go ahead and sit here. Gonna fetch someone to help you, then we can feed ya and discuss your place here.” Subtext: What can you do, what do you offer, how hard will you work for all our safety.

Henderson strode off, heading straight for the smaller room at the rear of the house. “Ash,” he called, before he knocked on the door. He'd learned the lesson to warn her before disturbing her.

“Ash.” Leaning closer, he heard the music. 'Is it simply a game/For a rich young boy to play?/The colors of the world/Are changing day by day/Red, the blood of angry men'

And then the door was flung open and she faced him. Silent. Blue eyes accusing. Every muscle wary for what might come. Henderson made sure his hands were in full view. “Got some new people in today. They need tending to. Two men and a woman. One of the men got a hurt leg.”

Her brow furrowed. Henderson took what comfort he could from her rising and falling chest. His Ash, strong and steady as a rock, as the sacred tree she was named for. 'Had you been there today/You might also have known/How the world may be changed/In just one burst of light!'

“Farha is the healer. Let her see to them. I'm security.” Her answer was one of puzzlement.

“You can both see to them. They need to know how we run things, they've been turned away from a place poorly managed. Do it Ash.” His voice was curt. A command. He turned and walked away, expecting her compliance.

Kit was fading in and out of awareness when two women approached him and his companions. He focused groggily, and the sight of one of the people sharpened him. Rob and Mariah smothered gasps.

The women stared at them, then glanced at each other. The pale one had blond hair in a braid, and a scar. It ran from her left temple in a diagonal frighteningly near her eye, running down her cheek to slightly disfigure the left corner of her mouth. It was clearly long healed but stood out like a rope across her face.

“All right, let's get you to the kitchen so I can take a look at that leg,” the other woman said briskly. She was dark skinned with a strong nose. Her black hair was braided and coiled at the nape of her neck. Her brown eyes were slightly tilted and gorgeous. All three of the new people stared at her for a few moments before moving to follow her command.

As they had done on the way here, Rob and Mariah supported Kit on either side. He had initially been able to bear his own weight but the wounds were taking their toll. He felt hot to the touch as well. His companions were easing him into a seat when the dark skinned woman spoke.

“Either the pants come off, or they get cut off. And judging by the blood on them, best we cut them rather than drag it across your wounds.” She moved about, gathering supplies. “One of you start a fire, would you?” directed at the wounded man's companions. Then, “Ash, can you get that material out of the way? I'll be right back.”

Ash moved closer to the man on the chair. Rob has his hand on Kit's shoulder. Mariah glanced back at them, biting her lip, as she added more wood to the kitchen fireplace. Suddenly Ash took a large dagger from a holster on her leg and knelt before Kit. They barely had time to react before she had the sharp edge to Kit's jeans. He realized what was happening and gasped in shock. By the time he jerked, she'd already sliced the fabric neatly from his thigh to his ankle.

Her eyes flicked to his face, then she peeled the fabric away. “Yeah. These gotta get cleaned and mended. But in the meantime we have a decent supply of clothes. I bring back a fair amount every day.”

Kit's wounds, exposed to air now, began to throb and scream at him. He moaned, sagging in the chair. The other woman bustled back in with some jars and pouches in her hands.

“Thank you!” she said sincerely to Ash, who gave a curt nod. She stood before them, seeming uncertain for the first time.

“These look infected.” Farha said critically, eyeing the ragged slices. She leaned close and sniffed it. Hummed in a thoughtful, inquiring pitch and began picking out dried herbs from the jars.

Abruptly Ash folded her arms over her chest, and started talking. “Everyone has a job here. Obviously, Farha is the healer. We have three..hmm it's two now, farmers that take care of the crops, we have one guy who looks after the water on the property, makes sure it's flowing, and clean. A married couple here are in charge of cleaning and maintenance, they assign duties for others too. We have one cook, and we could use more. If you wanna stay here, you need to list your skills and organize to do that duty. One of the people who took care of mending clothes and stuff like that, died. We could use another.”

They all stayed quiet, a bit stunned by Ash's direct and harsh manner. Kit flinched and hissed between his teeth as Farha began applying a warm cloth to clean the cuts. There were three, two slanted diagonally and raggedly across his hip and thigh. The third was clearly a bite, just above his knee.

Mariah was unable to tear her eyes from Ash. Timidly asked, “What job do YOU do?”

Ash grinned. It looked startling, like something she had learned and been forced to practice, instead of occurring naturally. “I kill the Screamers.”

All three sat in stunned awe. Farha covered the pot of simmering herbs and smiled knowingly. Glanced at the scowling blonde.

“You're the hunter! You...you KILL them!? How!” Rob breathed shallowly, pupils dilated.

“Usually with a sword. Sometimes a knife.”

Silence ruled, save for bubbling of medicine and crackling of fire. Kit's eyes followed the gleam of Ash's hair. No one wore long hair anymore. No one. He'd all but forgotten what long hair even looked like. She saw how he was looking at her and stiffened.

“Do you need anything else?” she asked tersely.

“Maybe later,” Farha smiled gently at her. “You can go now.”

Ash nodded and moved towards the back of the kitchen where an alcove and a door were visible. She could be seen strapping a sword across her back and selecting another knife from a cupboard.

Mariah stood up. “Where are you going!?” in an incredulous voice.

Ash went still for a moment. Farha, adding the herbs and an unguent to a bowl, clicked her tongue. Then Ash turned and gave all three newcomers such a contemptuous, dismissive glance; they reeled. Then out the door she went.

She ran, ran as though she could outrun the Screamers, or perhaps outrun herself. She'd forgotten her goggles in her urgency to leave the unsettling New Boys, especially the injured one who looked at her as though seeing HER; now her eyes streamed tears due to the wind. Ash did not want to be seen that way; as a person and not a weapon. It brought back too many memories.

She could hear THEM now, on that same wind. Stopping, she crouched near a boulder and wiped away the moisture in her eyes. Assessed her weapons, chose the sword. She usually started with the sword until their numbers forced her into the knives of close fighting. Ash gave a grateful nod to the mountains whose smaller outcroppings gave her and the house she guarded some protection.

And there they came, bunched together but not in a group. They hadn't minds enough to actually cooperate with each other. They never would. Mouths stretched wide, distorting their whole faces; eyes bright and wide open and so hopeful of capturing the Magic they could hear as the Music in their heads; cords bulging in their necks from the constant effort. Broken from their inability to actually channel it.

Ash did not pity them at all. She never had.

Her sword flashed in the sunlight.

Later, she rested beside the quiet figures, catching her breath. Sunlight glinted off her hair. Absently she wiped her blades in the cleaner sections of grass while considering the looting she was about to do, of what had once been people. No reason to keep putting it off. Resolutely she rose.

The only real trouble with living near a mountain was that rocks were plentiful but rocks didn't burn. After stripping usable supplies off the remains, she cast about for enough kindling to hold a flame. There was so little, but she did her best, then pulled out the bottle of whiskey from her inner pocket of her jacket, the one saved for medicinal purposes. A bit of a sprinkle for each of them and she was able to light them. Ash made sure to sit upwind until the fires dwindled. Then she shouldered her load of clothing and variables for the people at home, and began the long walk there.

With Farha's excellent healing skills, it was only two days before Kit's infection eased and he could move under his own power. He wobbled a bit and was slow, that would improve with time. Henderson brought them to see Sue Ellen, the woman who organized supplies and also did the mending.

She briskly sat down at the table with the new folk and pulled her inkwell closer to her. “All right then. Let's get started. Tell me what kind of work you did in your old place? And if you'd like to do different work here?”

There was a brief silence. Rob and Mariah glanced at each other. “I think...our place was less organized.” Rob laughed a little. “We just all kinda did whatever needed doing. Which might be different every day.”

His arm moved slightly and Kit realized he and Mariah were holding holds under the table. He felt a brief pang of bitter jealousy followed by grief for Heather. He missed a bit of the conversation for the buzzing in his head and heard “.......things that you find interesting to do otherwise?”

Rob spoke a bit hesitantly at first. “Well I always enjoyed the outdoors. Gathering food and stuff. Maybe I can work in the gardens here?” With more confidence, “I've a bit of a green thumb.”

“Certainly. We can actually use someone for that. Um. Simon is our scientist. He converts the potatoes and corn to usable fuel. He could really use an apprentice, knowledge has to be shared or it's lost. Technology is still available to us, on a limited basis. Would you be ok with that?” Rob glanced at Kit and one corner of his mouth curled up. “Sure! Look at me, going back to school!” He laughed lightly.

Sue Ellen arched a brow and pursed her lips, ignored his inappropriate humor in referencing humanity's past. Her quill scratched precisely on the parchment. “And you Mariah? What would you like?”

“Can I....that lady with the scar...she said one of the people who mends clothes died. I can mend. I'm good at that. Better than I am at anything else!” Mariah laughed. As the woman made a note of her proffered skill, Mariah's hand under the table briefly touched her stomach.

Sue Ellen turned to Kit with a small smile. “Your turn at last. What skills or interests have you, young man?”

“Uh. I've given little thought to it.” He licked his lips. “But I like being outside. When I was young, camping was my favorite. So uh...” Ash went out every day with weapons. Luke and Chris patrolled the house. Outside. Outside where Ash was. “I can help guard the compound?” He hadn't meant that to sound like a question. He'd wanted to sound strong and sure.

“Oh we can always use that. But are you sure? That can be a dangerous job. And you're already injured.” Her implication was.... Are you GOOD at guarding things?

His thoughts flashed to Heather again and his face tightened. “Yeah. I'm sure.” He WOULD do this. He would be strong. And not lose anyone again. The men got up and left to find their new teachers and duties.

Chris showed Kit all the spots where they generally posted lookouts. The high balcony out front. Patrolling the whole grounds three times a day. The silo near the barn. And of course, guarding the others at the stream when they washed household items and drew water. He showed him the weapons cache – marking particularly which were for Ash's use.

“Ever used a bow and arrow before?”

“My dad did. He was a hunter.”

The other man just nodded and looked away. After a few respectful moments for Kit's former life, he went on. “Practice is all you need. You can do that in the cornfield. Come on.”

As they walked Chris mentioned, “Luke loves bow and arrow. It's his favorite and he's really good. You can probably pick it up too, but I'd recommend axes. And..if you want...sword. Ash will ignore you. If you want that weapon, you'll train on your own more or less.” He chuckled.

Kit broke into a light sweat trying to walk as though he was not still torn up. “She's so mean.” He huffed.

“Yeah well. She's a fighter. She needs to be mean for that.” Chris answered curtly. He noticed Kit's pace but didn't slow his own.

The sounds of Simon fussing and bustling about, adjusting beakers and clanking around big tubs of whatever substances he was brewing, drifted out of the open doors of the barn. Whatever was steaming on the wood stove smelled both sweet and rancid. Kit glanced toward the barn twice during practicing.

“Mind what you're doing.” Chris advised him. “You'll have downtime to socialize. We do that occasionally, you know.”

“Yeah. OK.” He focused, ignoring his throbbing leg, and lowered his shoulders. Took deep breaths until the target was all he saw. Then flung the axe.

“Good!” He'd hit it. And not far from the center too. He heard the intercom buzz in the barn, then a voice ask impatiently, “Is that batch of liquor done yet??”

“Just barely. It'll get better with aging. YOU know that.” A crackle indicated the old man had been cut off. Kit picked up the next axe.

Silence reigned but for the thump of axes and Kit's labored breathing. Suddenly Ash brushed rudely past him. He gaped, and the other guard just chuckled. “She's always been a strange one.” Chris remarked.

“Give it to me.” She demanded from just inside the barn. Simon sighed dramatically and shrugged.

Kit stopped, on the pretext of catching his breath and stretching his muscles. He saw her cross her arms while watching Simon insert a long tube into one of the tubs and the other end into a jug. Dark liquid flowed through the tube. “This will be a lot better if you give it time.”

“Well he's out of the last batch. Let's prevent another incident.”

“My dear, it will only get worse. You know that.”

Chris, behind him. “Come on. Throw some more. You've got a knack for it.”

A bit later Ash walked by with two bottles tucked under her arms and two more in her hands. Simon followed her for a few steps. As she stomped back to the house he mourned, “She was so sweet until Irene died.”

Sue Ellen heard the sentry announce Ash passing the border. She leaped up and ran out of the door to greet the returning woman. Mariah was so startled she made a high pitched squeak.

Looking out of the partially opened door, she saw the blonde who frightened and disturbed her so. Catching her breath, she gazed in wonder as Sue Ellen took half the woman's burden and walked beside her to the mudroom. “Oh my...these are all bloody! And...” she faltered.

“Brainy. Yeah. It's what happens. It'll wash out. It'll be fine, Sue Ellen will show you. It's why we save our pee.” Ash said in her usual brusque manner. “Come on.” She walked off in the direction of the creek.

Sue Ellen called for security on the house intercom and Luke replied. They went a bit downstream, nearer the old village, where a cache of rocks protected their supplies. Sometimes the Screamers would shelter in the old houses so Luke stood on sentry as they washed and bleached the clothing. Mariah looked past him to the west for a moment. The sky was beginning to turn orange in that direction.

“Nature is surging” Sue Ellen commented. “The plants are thriving, we burn off weeds every third day just to keep the compound from being covered.”

Mariah nodded, grimacing a bit with effort as she wrung a pair of denim pants, water flowing from her feet back towards the stream. A thundering in the distance caught all their attention. Seconds later, a herd of deer raced past them. It was mostly does, with about five fawns intermingled with them.

Luke got an arrow on his string fast enough to bring down a doe, then another moments later. “Good thing they're brave of us now! We all eat well and dress well because of it!”

The silence after that comment was loud. It had been an accidental, careless remark. Even vague references to how humans used to live was heartbreaking. Every one of them held back on scolding him for that. Luke had only meant well.

He stood by the big sliding door, watching her. He knew he should look somewhere else. It was only bathing. Everyone did it. Nakedness didn't mean what it used to. He vaguely recalled his father saying so, and certainly the sight of bared sodies or clothed bodies at any time was common at any given time.

However, staring at someone – clothed or not – was still taboo.

She was walking along the edge of the hot spring in the grotto. Naked, her hair free flowing, the steam randomly billowing around her. She paced a restless circuit several times. At one point he watched her look directly at him, and drew in a breath. Ash was harsh and rude. Surely she would have something awful to say to him? She sneered just perceptibly, and kept her circling.

Eventually she slipped into the water. She lay on her back, floating, for a few minutes. Kit thought about slipping through the door. Slipping out of his own clothes. Slipping into the water, feeling how hot and bubbly it was. Slipping his hand over her skin. Surely she would react violently to that. But what if she liked it?

Ash sat up finally. Began lathering up the soap next to her and washing. Kit forced himself to move away, to look at something else and think of something other than these insane thoughts.

Henderson walked in and sat at the big table, started shuffling a deck of cards and staring at the wall. Kit froze.

“Poor thing. She got that scar when her mother died.” The old man remarked.

Shocked silence for a moment or two. Then, haltingly, Kit asked. “How? And how long ago?”

“Oh...awhile back. The village still had people living in it. My mother in law Ronan had already Sang the ranch into this bigger, roomier configuration.”

Stupefied by this revelation, the young man blinked. “Your mother in law...Ash's grandma was..a Singer?”

“Yeah she was. Bout knocked me out of my chair when I learned it. She was the only one I knew before or after. It's very rare. There's only 963 that exist. Ash was just a little girl.....and Screamers killed her mother right in front of her. I managed to get her away before they killed her too. Before we fled though, they hurt that pretty little face.” Henderson knocked back his drink and stared Kit down. With those light blue eyes that looked just like Ash's.

Kit withered before that direct gaze. He ducked his head, mumbled an excuse, and hurried away.

There was work in the ranch, and everyone could find what they were suited for. This group fit together pretty well, and each excelled at their task. So much so that sometimes there were moments for leisure. Dice and card games were most common. Once in a great while, there was storytelling, though that often led to nostalgia and grief.

One such evening, when Kit had been a guard long enough for the moon to go from crescent to full, a game of poker was proposed by Mike and Sue Ellen. Luke joined, naturally Simon, Ken, and Chris joined in too. Someone said something ribald, Kit wasn't sure who, but the whole table erupted in coarse laughter.

“What? What's funny?” he wanted to know, his smile lighting up his face. Sue Ellen rolled her eyes and folded. “I'm out. Even if I did swing that way, she's straight.”

“Too bad, that'd be a view worth betting on as well,” Ken muttered barely above a murmur.

“Ooooh!” rejoined most of the men.

“What's the bet? I'm new here remember? What could we be possibly betting ON!” Kit asked with a bit of impatience.

“Me.” Said a quiet voice right behind him. He controlled his jump; he WAS a guard and supposed to be alert to all things after all. But Ash never made a sound when she walked.

She sat down in an armchair near, with most of her back to them. Waved an airy hand. “Carry on men. I'm curious to see who succeeds.”

Johnny pushed off from the doorway he was leaning on and sauntered over, eyes on Ash. “I'll take a bit of that action, it's been awhile.” He drawled. Kit was shocked when she gave him a slow, intent smile.

“What about you are we betting on?” He knew. He felt it in the atmosphere, in the heightened tension in the room.

Rob rolled his eyes a bit and took Mariah's hand. They disappeared to their own room.

“We all have needs, New Boy. And this way is easier than others. This way, everyone's equal and everyone's happy.” Ash began sharpening her knives. And they played with more intensity after that.

His thoughts were a bit wild for the first two rounds. He'd wanted to attract her from the second day he was here. Maybe now he would finally do so. Determinedly, he applied all his knowledge of poker – little – and all his desire - much - into focused body language to bluff the others.

It worked. He caught his breath in anticipation as all the men at the table laid down their cards with various disgruntled exclamations or soured expressions. When he rose from the table, she was already standing.

Afterward, his mind remained focused on her. As surly and solitary she behaved, he kept remembering how soft her skin was. How blue her eyes were. “Everyone's equal and everyone's happy,” But she was his favorite now. Ash was alone much of the time but when she was present he tried to get a seat near her. His patrols and rounds he made sure coincided with her going out and coming in.

And when she did stay in her room, he would walk by and hear the strains of her music. 'On my own/Pretending he's beside me/All alone/I walk with him 'til morning.' Kit thought that the song was confusing, sad and bittersweet. When he crossed her path; either going or coming from her daily hunting trips, she still glanced at him with the guarded hostility she gave everyone else.

“Hey.” He greeted her. “The sunset looks so pretty. We can see it from the-” He was going to say balcony but she cut him off with a withering glare quite like the one she'd had on the day they'd all arrived and Mariah asked her where she was going. Then she swept inside. “Or another day,” he muttered to himself.

During dinner one evening, windows open to let in the sound of water, Mariah felt queasy. Rob was urging her to have another bite. “No. I don't want any more! Stop fussing over me!” Her voice was barely audible. To Ash it was like a shout. At the first negative word she jerked, and swung her head to stare at Mariah and Rob.

Kit, seated next to her as nonchalantly as he could manage, was exulted that he'd been allowed to stay beside her. He noted her sudden shudder and curling in on herself. He assumed it was the surprise of hearing words like that. Negative words were almost unheard of. After the Date, most people spoke with Affirmation. But all Ash can recall is her mother saying “No” and “Don't.” Without finishing her meal, she abruptly got up and left. Since that was how she usually left a room, only Kit cared.

Mariah's baby grew and stretched her belly out. Made her waddle a bit when she walked. Rob burst with joy in her and they tried to work near each other as often as possible. Wherever she walked or sat, all the members of the compound -including Ash - were drawn to her. Pregnant women were a rarity and possessed an incredible magnetism.

Pregnancy and childbirth are a blend of Magic and Science. Life in its beginnings, is the only force on Earth that balances those two so perfectly. For that reason, Screamers were also drawn to a pregnant person.

“Come on Mariah. There's only a short time you have to observe. Hope you're good at memorizing.”

“Why? What's the rush?”

“Groups of more than three....well. THEY know somehow. It attracts them. Especially odd numbers, for some reason. Also.....you're carrying life. They like that.” They walked as swiftly as Mariah's heavier body could manage.

Ken assembled the foldable wooden frame he used to tan the leather, and draped the skins over it. As he worked the scraper he explained the importance of getting all the fat and blood and everything, off the backside of the hide. Indicated the buckets of brain material, that he would soak the skins in to make them pliable and more importantly, weatherproof.

Ash walked back and forth, watching the horizon. Listening to the domestic sounds of Ken and Mariah working the leather. After indulging herself in another long gaze at Mariah, she turned and looked towards the cornfields. There, Simon and Rob were working on the machine that began the process of making the corn into fuel. Luke was guarding them.

Luke, like she had been just now, was looking at Mariah.

Ash shivered suddenly as if with cold. There was someone walking towards them. And they were walking..oddly. “Who is that?” She whispered. She stared a moment longer, then suddenly began running towards the men.

“Look out, look out! Screamer!” She drew a dagger as she ran. Luke jumped in startlement and turned towards the sound of her shouting.

“Behind you!' Just then the Screamer began making their characteristic sound and ran towards the stream. Luke managed to recoil as the Screamer aimed a hard kick at him and raced past him, gibbering, saliva flying.

Another Screamer came, stumbling through the field. Simon scrambled around the machine, trying to put it between them. He snatched up corn and threw it at the monster. Rob was already running towards Mariah. Luke and Ash were both running as fast as possible, but the first Screamer was reaching for Mariah and the second had leaped over the machine and had hands around Simon's throat.

Ash used a dagger right to the nape of the monster's neck, killing it somewhat more quickly. Luke swerved around the corn mill. The Screamer had caught one foot in it, which was being ground along with the corn. The machine was making a hideous noise but even louder was the jagged sounds coming from the former human. Luke struck at it repeatedly and managed to kill it. But the hands never loosened from Simon's throat and it was too late to save him once the Screamer died.

It was a dejected cluster that returned to the ranch. Rob and Mariah had carried the news to Henderson, and he was waiting with a stony face.

He slapped Ash, the loud crack of it seeming to echo. Ash fell to her knees. Her hair flew and covered her face. She remained in the crouch the momentum had left her in.

“They killed Simon! Do you know how that's gonna cripple us?” His voice was tight with fury, his face pinched coldly. “You weren't doing your JOB! You weren't paying ATTENTION! You were looking at that MOTHER!” Henderson sent a murderous glance towards Mariah who blanched at the look and reeled back a step.

“The mothers are important. We need the mothers,” Ash said from under her curtain of hair. “Screamers just find them somehow.” Finally she straightened up, flung her head back. A smear of blood trickled from her nose down her upper lip. She wiped it away slowly, staring at her father.

Henderson inhaled deeply through his nostrils and transformed into another man. The easy going father figure with the calming smile and slow drawl reappeared.

“It's a serious loss. We have to band together more than ever, and hope Rob can fill Simon's place.” A hint of the steel showed again as he finished. His voice raised again briefly in command. “We all have to be vigilant in these times.” He turned on his heel and walked away.

Ash watched him leave. Only Kit saw a glimpse of her face. And it made him afraid, but also made him love her even more. She walked away without looking at anyone. Two hours later she left with a pack on her shoulder.

Everything was quiet for three days after that. Everyone walked on tiptoe in fear that any loud noise or sudden movement - or anything really – would break the fragile peace and cause devastation. On the evening of the third day, Ash returned from her hunt filthy and exhausted. She curtly asked for clean clothes and went to the grotto to wash. It was a much colder day than normal so a fire was built to drive away some of the chill and cheer everyone up.

Everything was going fine. People were relaxing, having hot beverages, talking and even smiling a bit more naturally. Suddenly Henderson appeared in their midst. “Quiet!” He held up a hand, staring intently out past the flames.

Everyone hushed. Then, “Screamers are coming. The bonfire is attracting them.”

“What?” “They keep away from fire!” “What did he say?” Various murmurs rose. Luke cried out in alarm.

“Where's Ashla?” Henderson asked tersely.

Everyone was quiet. After a few seconds of everyone milling and glancing around, Kit hesitantly spoke, “I think she's in the grotto still, I can check on her?”

The sound of the Screamers came then. Loud and harsh and broken, yet still strangely sounding like the melody it was intended to be. The very sky rippled, the very flames, the grass and trees and stream and house all seemed for a moment to dance with the Magic. Then without warning it was grotesque and broken and jangling.

Ash appeared suddenly in their midst, hair braided and still wet. “It's the Winter Equinox. It's happening now.” She sounded weary beyond belief. “People used to do rituals on this night. Burn fires, drink to be cheery, all to entice the sun to return. It's Magic. And Magic draws them.” She cursed viciously and sighed. Met Kit's eyes. Then ran dead straight towards the noise of the approaching threat.

“Build the fire up! It'll help her see better!” Henderson cried.

After what Ash had said, it seemed a rash act. But one by one, all the people of the house felt a determination rise in them. To fight back, to help their surly protector to fight for them. They all looked at each other. “If it's a Magical night, let it be for our favor instead of those poor monsters!” Kit called out.

The fire was fed until it roared like vengeance. In the flickering light they could see some of the battle. Henderson stood at the very edge of the circle the light cast, staring out. He gulped from the bottle he held. “Come on Ash. Come on!!”

Luke and Kit grabbed weapons to go help her. By the light of the flames the others watched them. Horrified screams went up, mingling with the discordant Screamers. Few of the ranch's inhabitants had ever seen someone actually killed. And Screamers die hard. The Magic sustains them.

One who appeared to be a girl of only twelve or so, stumbled into the fire when Luke's arrow hit her. Still screaming, she kept running, unmindful of the flames engulfing her now. Straight for the house full of people. The curtains caught first. She fell over a couch and it burst into flames too. Everyone was screaming, running, knocking into each other and the flaming Screamer. When she fell, the carpet burned as well.

Ash had raced after the creature. Kit saw her and followed; the fire and their blades had finished the rest of the raggedy band of former people. Stumbling through the smoke, he pulled his shirt over his mouth and tried to peer through. The residents were fleeing in hysteria. He staggered to the big meeting room, coughing. This room was clearer, and occupied. By Henderson and Ash. As he cleared his lungs, he stared in disbelief as the warrior raised her sword, and slashed the caretaker and protector of the ranch. Henderson fell with only one feeble groan.

Kit yelled in shock. Ash whirled, ran towards him. He scrambled back out of the room, she grabbed the shirt fabric right under his chin. “Shut up! They'll hear you!” She dragged him towards the rear entry door, where he'd once stared longingly out at her. “Move faster!”

Kit tried to pull back but the smoke was now filling this room too. They moved together past the grotto and into the open grassy area beyond. There they halted and collapsed on the grass, both out of breath. In the distance, through the smoke, they observed knots of the folk they knew. Running away from the terror and the flames and the dying sounds of Screamers. Running away. To safety. Maybe.

It was difficult to look at the remnants of the compound. They did so regardless of how they felt about it, really. Humans need to say goodbye. And so they stood side by side, each mourning silently for whatever it was they would miss. In only a few minutes Ash nudged him. “We have to keep moving.”

He looked at her with his breath shuddering in his chest.

“I've got my pack, we can fill my water jugs at the creek. We'll forage on the way.”

“To where?” Hoarsely.

“Wherever.” She was already walking away.

Kit trailed after her, his feet lagging, his heart aching. After only a few steps he began to sob. The sheer emotional weight of trauma made him slow. After a few minutes Ash glanced back at him and stopped. She looked impatient.

“We have to move faster. We need a good place to shelter AND have food and supplies, by sundown!”

“Don't you care about ANYTHING!?” He burst out at her.

“I care about living another day if I can.” She replied shortly.

“You killed your father! Some of our friends are dead! The rest are gone!”

She stopped and raged back at him, “I'm glad my father is dead! The others...I regret. I'd have saved them if I could have.”

“Are you really a monster? You act like nothing happened!”

She looked at him steadily. “I'm not the monster. I fight the monsters. I'm the Ash Tree.”

He spit on the ground, his sorrow and fear too great for him to stand. “Ancient myths that you hide behind! You just walk away!”

She moved so swiftly he yelped in shock; before the cry had fully left his mouth she had a hold of his collar again and had raised him on his toes. “My father was the monster. Not me. I heard him tell you his tale of my mother's death. It's a lie. HE killed my mother!”

Everything went silent. There was only the faint sound of the creek and the birds that chirped, happily unaware of the cruelty of humans. Kit made a croak of shock.

“He's a terrible man. But he wants to be thought well of. Wants to be adored. It's why he ran that ranch. So people would admire him, and think him wonderful for SAVING them.” Loathing dripped from that word. “He beat her when he was drunk. And me. Why do you think we grow so much corn? It's more than for fuel for machines! It's so he can keep drinking!”

She let go of him. “We were out of alcohol. Mama did something to upset him. Who knows what? He started hitting her and it got really bad. I got between them. I was EIGHT! He had a knife in his hand and my mom was bleeding. And he cut me. His little girl. I almost died, my mother DID die, and my grandmama healed me before SHE died of grief!”

Silence, except for nature, reigned again. She turned and started walking again. “Come on!”

Kit was reeling. What she said had changed everything, colored all his memories of the last several months. Shock made him stumble and snivel as he tried to travel at her steady pace. He must have been annoying her with his noises for she stopped again with an impatient grunt.

“You have to control your emotions. Survival is all we have left now.” She gave him a pitying look. “We might well be the last humans alive in this land. Are there other compounds? Are there survivors from your old one? It's sundown for humanity. All we can do is keep moving, until we lie down to die. A hundred years from now? Ten years? Ten breaths? Who of us knows?”

She took hold of his arm, steadied him as he staggered. “We have to keep moving. Find food, find shelter. Survive. It's....” she paused. “The human thing to do.”

They kept going towards the forlorn little houses spread out on the hillside. The sound of the birds and their breathing was the only sound. When they got closer the sky was beginning to turn purple. As they got closer Kit heard rustling and then, just as his eyes adjusted to see a shape slinking along the wall of one house, a low growl.

Ash pulled to the right instantly. Her gait became much slower and she made soothing, calm down noises. The shape came nearer, and slowed. “It's a wolf,” she whispered. “Can you hear her cubs?”

Straining his ears, he did. Just barely. They moved to the outside line of houses and chose one. He was exhausted, his leg screaming, and he slumped trembling into a chair the moment they were inside. In a daze he watched Ash lock the door and check all the windows. Most of them were blocked already but she moved chairs and stacked books until the others were also barricaded.

“Let's get some sleep. We have to be up in time to forage and then move before next sunset.”

“Do you really think there's anyone to find?”

“There's always your place. The one that expelled you. There might be people there.”

“Maybe.”

“There'll be strong walls at least.”

They fell asleep on a pile of blankets and pillows between the couch and the coffee table. Ash jerked awake when the sun was still fairly high, almost noon. She shook Kit awake. It took awhile.

Groggily he questioned, “Got anything to eat?”

“It's digging in the ground for us, I'm afraid.” Humor tinged her voice.

“Can we hunt or something?” He raised himself up on one elbow.

Ash made a face. It was somewhat like a smile, but her scar caught at it. She coughed and said dryly, “With a sword and daggers? I only grabbed blades before we ran. Luke took a bow.” Wistfulness crept into her voice. “I saw him with it, saw him as he ran.”

Kit thought hard for a moment. Yawned. Took a drink of water. “We can set traps? That's what we did..” he faltered. “Before.”

“Traps take time. We don't have it. Up. We dig and forage today. On the move.”

They found a raspberry patch and feasted. Kit found some strips of jerky in the leg pocket of his cargos. After a bit of traveling, Ash suddenly ran and began picking up something from the ground under a huge tree. She said it was black walnut, and they sat awhile cracking the nuts like happy squirrels. But suddenly familiar shrieks filled the air.

“What the FUCK! Out in the middle of the afternoon?” They chose to run. They walnut tree had been planted by a farmer. Soon they saw the outline of his stone fence. However, the farmhouse was rubble. They took a stand.

Backed up to a stone wall though he was, the numbers were overwhelming. And he was exhausted, sweat dripping, breath rasping. She saw it. Drawing a deep breath, she shouted. In rage, in fear, in loss and at the unfairness of it all. Magic in the world! And all it could produce was horror! And then she sang. Not like the true Singers. Just an off melody “la la la la la” and a sudden lunge to the side.

The Screamers gasped, almost in complete unison. Ash could not hear the Music, had no hope of succeeding. But the pure hysteria her cracked voice caused in all the poor unfortunates was incredible.

He ran as best he was able. His leg hurt, and his heart hurt. His breath rasped in his lungs as he wept. A couple of them were still chasing him. Kit made for a cypress nearby. Jumping up, he managed to swing himself upwards enough to reach the next branch, forcing himself higher. The Screamers on the ground couldn't quite figure out where he went and attacked each other. Gradually the screams quieted. Kit straddled a branch that seemed almost too thin to support him, and hugged the trunk. He sobbed and sobbed until his breath ran out and he had to gulp. Slowly he calmed down.

The branch was smashing his crotch and snot was running down his face. He kept thinking of her last moments. It had all happened so fast. One moment she was beside him and then she was just gone. They could have kissed. She could have said goodbye. Maybe he could find her! But he knew it was too late for that. Scenarios ran through his mind over and over but they changed nothing. Over and over again, he was slammed by the knowledge that in a breath, his life had changed forever.

Slowly he slid down the tree. Found his pack halfway down, with water and the food they had foraged still inside. He winced as he shouldered it, he'd scraped himself several times climbing. Resolute, he studied the lowering sun and figured out his direction. Thankfully it was mostly downhill with a bit of level ground here and there. Off he set, sure of his destination.

The sight of the stone walls was such a relief he nearly fell to his knees. Ruthlessly he drove himself forward. Was anyone alive there? The sun was so low it was turning red already. He could hear distant shrieks. Running up to the door, he pounded frantically on it. “Hey! Hey I'm back let me in! Let me in!”