“Smoke up ahead, Sarge.” Summers noted.

“I see it.”

Nowak looked at the valley ahead. It was noon and the road had been clear for the last few days. That changed as the path in front of them was dotted with signs of campfires. In the distance, they saw small rectangular shapes breaking up the skyline. Summers could only assume they were the walls of the city. Which meant it was time to leave the Humvee.

“Hey, I was thinking, shouldn’t we be worried about spreading diseases or something?” Adams thought aloud, “Like with the Native Americans.”

“Eh, people back then weren’t big on hygiene. Also, that shit didn’t start until infected people were getting on ships. We’re probably fine.” Nowak replied.

“If anything, we don’t have any protection against whatever kind of diseases they have. So, don’t get too handsy with the locals.” Summers cautioned.

“Do not shack up with the first elf you meet. I’m serious. It doesn’t end well.” Cortez agreed, giving a passing glance to Adams.

“She’s right, we’re still strangers here. Don’t let your guard down.” Nowak looked in Adams direction as well.

Actually, they were all looking at Adams.

“I’m feeling sorta attacked here.” Adams retorted.

“We’ve all been in your shoes, and we’ve all seen our buddies try and marry the first thing dumb enough to smile at them.” Nowak called back.

“I’m not going -” Adams started but Cortez cut him off.

“You will. We all know you will.” Cortez looked back at Adams, “We are giving you fair warning that we’re going to shut that shit down as soon as we see it.”

Logan smiled at the private. “You’re what, 19?”

Adams was doing his best to keep up and failing. “Twenty.”

“Back at my old base they had a gift shop. It sold wedding rings for 10 bucks. It was one of their best sellers.”

Nowak turned back to Adams “Look we’re going to be in this town for a while if all goes as planned. Now part of you might start thinking ‘it would be a lot easier to just stay here, wouldn’t it’. That’s your choice, we just want to make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons and not because you’re trying to get laid.”

“And so you don’t get shanked by your new father in law because you’re some weird foreigner.” Cortez said. “Seriously, I got stories.”

“I got transferred to base because of relationship… complications. I know Cortez had a similar story. So just take our word on it.”

Cortez laughed. “Any ‘relationship’ -” She used air quotes, “Was wishful thinking on that asshole’s part.”

“Still counts.” Summers prodded.

“Fine. And for the record, it was worth it.”

“What did -” Adams began.

“You do not want to know. Trust me.” Summers interrupted.

Cortez smiled at Adams in response. He didn't return the sentiment.

They found a ditch big enough to fit the Humvee. After some work with a couple branches it blended into the forest seamlessly. Cortez still rigged a shotgun to a tripwire in front of the largest branch, just in case some nosey locals happened upon it. Maybe that was heartless, but it was a better alternative to letting all those weapons fall into some stranger’s hands. Nowak had carved the words “shotgun” into the tree nearby, just in case they forgot about their little surprise. Last thing they needed was a chest full of buckshot.

Summers was busy trying to move the corpse of the monster out of the way for some of their supplies. Nowak had field dressed it the day earlier, so they hadn’t wanted for fresh meat, at least not after they had experimented by feeding some to the cow. It didn’t look like it had any issues, so they had deemed it safe. Strangely enough, the monster tasted like duck.

Nowak turned to Summers as he finished. “How are we on gas?”

“I’d say we have another week.” Summers answered. “They didn’t build these things with mileage in mind.”

“Think we’ll hit the coast?” Cortez asked. They’d hoped to reach this world’s equivalent of Anchorage by the time they had to leave the Humvee behind.

“Probably.”

Nowak checked the map one last time. “I’m hoping we can follow the road to some port town, maybe charter a ship.”

“With what money?” Summers wasn’t thrilled with the idea of getting on a boat. He was never a great student, but most history classes stressed just how uncomfortable, and deadly sailing was back before the conveniences of modern life.

“Hopefully what we get from trading will be enough. If not, we can try to find work in town.” Nowak explained. “We’d probably have to hide the guns until we needed them, but that wouldn’t be too hard. We got the bandits crap. With cloaks we could probably pass for locals.”

“So, you want us to wear disguises?”

“I want to look armed. Those bandits didn’t even register us as a threat. I’d like to do as little killing as we have to.” Nowak tossed Summers one of the bandits Metal rimmed helmets. “And you said it yourself, we should try and keep a low profile. That means not standing out. Get some cash and supplies then get on our way.”

Summers turned the steel helmet in his hands. It smelled like blood and sweat. Nowak had the right of it, he knew. But something told him they wouldn’t be able to keep a low profile for long.

“No, you can’t squint.” Logan instructed. “Stop, just keep your face neutral. Cortez you still look pissed.”

They’d learned, or rather Logan had learned through his many talks with Asle, that elves were not big on facial cues. Not that they didn’t understand them, apparently, they had similar tendencies as the rest of them. Happy, sad, all that translated. They just didn’t show those kinds of responses in public. That display of emotion was reserved for the people closest to you, in the privacy of their own home. Asle had explained that it was considered “barbaric” to do so freely, and with people you just met.

“That’s my normal face.” Cortez replied.

“Yeah, don’t do that.” Logan insisted.

“I have a spear.”

“Cortez cut the shit and just let him help you, please?” Nowak called over.

Logan was trying to coach them on blending in, with Asle acting as his assistant. They were getting mixed results.

Summers was walking alongside the wagon in the bandits scaled armor. There had been about five sets they’d scavenged from the bandits’ bodies. It didn’t look the best, but at least they wouldn’t be seen as easy prey.

“Be like Adams.” Logan gestured to the private.

“What? Sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” Adams admitted.

“Yeah okay, so do that without zoning out.” Logan suggested.

The severed remains of the monster took up the bulk of their wagon, which meant they had to walk. It was large enough that the head of the creature poked over the front. If that weight was a burden to the brawny cow, it didn’t show it. It just marched merrily along the trail, occasionally stopping to graze where and when it felt like it before getting back on the road. Given its size, they had no idea how to stop it from acting on its whims short of putting a bullet in its head, so it was allowed to continue as long as it kept pulling the wagon.

Eventually they saw the walls of the city. They were built out of gray stone about 20 feet high. Summers saw bits of bone and fur interspaced on the top like banners, some hanging from the deeply sloped, wooden roofs of the few buildings they could see. Shacks lined the road out front, Summers guessed that would be the low rent area. Kids about Asle’s age scattered in the streets up ahead, clearing the way as their wagon approached.

“I kind of expected trees.” Adams said, staring at the city in front of them.

There looked to be a caravan of some sort beside the gate. It was massive, with nearly a hundred guards lined around wagons far larger, and more expensive looking than their own. Summers caught sight of an elven woman with silver hair at the front of the head wagon. Their eyes met for an instant, and he saw her tense.

Actually, as Summers looked around, he noticed everyone’s eyes were on him and his friends.

“Uh…”

No, they weren’t looking at Summers, or any of them. All their eyes were on the head of the enormous body in their wagon.

The cow, in a show of utter indifference, just kept walking forward. It only stopped as they reached the gate itself.

There was a long silence as Summers and his party stared at the guards blocking the path. There were about a dozen on the wall above them, each with elaborate shortbows in their hands. Security here was not fucking around.

“Asle.” Nowak reminded the girl. She immediately straightened and began the script they’d decided on.

They were merchants from far away. They had goods, and the body of a monster they’d run across in their travels. That was the idea, anyway.

A guard stepped forward saying something in a distinctly unhappy tone. Asle held her ground, showing him the merchant’s badge. He looked it over for a moment before stepping aside, letting them in.

“All right then.” Nowak muttered.

As they each stepped into the city another guard took the reins of the cow. It stopped as more guards moved to the wagon itself, searching its contents.

Summers watched as one guard found a grenade they’d brought from the Humvee. He turned it over in his hands and Summers felt the muscles in his legs go taut. Each of them was ready to run at a moment’s notice.

Thankfully the guard lost interest, tossing it back where he found it.

Summers looked up at the wall above them, the guards up there watched each of them with interest.

In Summers opinion, bows aren’t a match for an M4, but an arrow or a spear will kill you dead just the same.

As he watched the guards, he couldn’t help but notice they were treating them differently than the other merchants. It seemed like they had forgotten about the others entirely, in fact. He would have assumed it was because they were foreigners, but that didn’t seem right. They kept stealing glances at Asle of all people.

After the last guard climbed down from the wagon, he waved the group forward.

“…He says we can come in.” Asle explained.

They’d managed to find something like an inn a short time later, although it had cost a few of their smaller, more common coins to grease the palms of some locals.

Summers sat at a large wooden table. To its credit the inn looked surprisingly lavish, even by their modern standards. He would have appreciated it, but he was dealing with his own problems. Namely, sensory overload.

“They have alcohol.” Cortez observed with a bit of reverence in her voice.

A few patrons walked with cups of frothing liquid. It was in fact, a fruity alcohol. Summers knew this because he could smell it. That, the heavily perfumed guests, and the weird floral oils a barmade was wiping the counter with. The amount of sensations he was taking in were nearly overwhelming.

“Mhmm -” was all Summers could manage, trying to hold in a sneeze.

Summers saw the innkeeper as he stepped out from the back room. He said something to Asle. Summers could guess the content of their back and forth, they’d asked for two rooms and the man was holding two odd pegs he guessed were keys.

“How much?” Nowak asked.

“Two… grey? Two a night.”

“Silver?”

Asle shrugged.

Nowak rummaged around in the sack that was serving as their coin pouch. Besides the copper disks they were using for bribes, there were dark, squares coins and a round, silver type. That made things simple at least. He handed two silver to the Innkeeper.

The man bowed graciously as he gave Asle the pegs in return.

Nowak closed the pouch and put it back on his belt. “If I find out we just splurged on five-star rooms I’m going to be pissed.”

“It’s fine.” Cortez said. “I saw some stalls on the way in, we can get a feel for how much we have later.”

“We should get some clothes too.” Nowak rubbed the steel helmet on his head. “I feel like kind of an asshole wearing this indoors.”

“Don’t worry, you look like an asshole too.” Cortez agreed. Her hair was long enough to hide her normal, human ears, so she took her helmet off once they sat down.

“I know it,” Nowak checked the window outside. “We should probably switch out with the others.”

“I’ll go.” Summers volunteered.

The city was really starting to get to him, they’d left Adams and Logan guarding the wagon, and all their belongings, in a warehouse nearby. One that had been, blessedly, a little more ventilated than the stuffy inn.

“…All right.” Nowak was looking at Summers oddly but wasn’t about to complain. “We’re in room -” he checked the keys, “red and orange bird things. Cortez you want night shift or day?”

“I’ll take night. Nothing fun happens in the morning anyway.” Cortez started to get up.

“See you two in the morning.” Nowak waved as he and Asle headed upstairs.

Summers stood in a small barn that they’d rented along with Cortez. It was thankfully quiet here, and the fresh air let him relax ever so slightly.

The wagon was sitting in one of the many storage warehouses that lined the walls of the city. He assumed the guard station beside them was supposed to make the area look secure, however none of them fully trusted a city they knew nothing about.

Summers turned at a kissy noise from beside him. Cortez was trying to elicit some kind of response from the cow. It wasn’t working.

“I kind of like its attitude, he doesn’t give a shit about nothing. It’s cute.”

“Your definition of cute is disturbing.” Summers watched as Cortez scratched their cow behind the ear. It made no reaction but didn’t try and pull away either.

“I’m calling him tank.”

“You can all him what you want, but from what we’ve seen I think lunch is more appropriate.”

“I think tank’s a she actually.” Cortez ducked under the cow, verifying that yes, there wasn’t anything there.

Summers sighed, stretching to try and loosen his stiff muscles. Maybe taking what was essentially a double shift wasn’t such a great idea. “How much longer you think we have?”

Cortez stepped outside and looked at the sky. “Another 6 hours, at least.”

He settled in against the near wall. It was going to be a long night.

By the end of their shift the two were tired, bored, and more than a little annoyed by the entire concept of guard duty. The guards on the wall above only stared down at them impassively as they passed. He could swear they were giving him dirty looks, only without any expression whatsoever.

Then a noise from outside put him back on alert. Their little storage space was at the far end of the street, so no one would have any reason to get close if they weren’t coming to them specifically. Cortez saw him react and readied her own weapon.

“If that’s one of you say something before I blow your head off.” Summers called out.

“Try me asshole.” It was Nowaks voice calling back. “We gotta set up a challenge phrase.”

Cortez walked to the door, “Why? We’re the only ones that speak English around here.”

The barn creaked open as Nowak stepped in with Asle. Then an older elf woman followed after them. It was the same silver haired trader Summers had seen at the head of the caravan.

Nowak gestured to him. “Guys do me a favor and bring that worm things’ head over.”

“Any particular reason she why?” Cortez grunted with effort as she climbed into the wagon, straddling the body of the creature.

“Ms. Synel -” Nowak started with emphasis on the woman’s name, “Is a buyer. I don’t know how she found us, but Asle says she’s real hot shit, so play nice.”

Summers hauled the easily 200-pound head out of the back of the wagon and, with some help from Cortez, dropped it on the front seat.

Nowak led the woman forward. She was clearly tense, as if she expected the monster to come back to life at any moment. Actually, that probably wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities for all they knew.

Summers moved to Nowaks side as the woman inspected the beast. “The fuck does she want with a head?”

“She wants the whole thing. Said it’s some kind of charm. The smell of the big ones keeps little monsters away.”

“That… sort of makes sense. We didn’t have to deal with much after we took this thing down.”

She turned to Asle and said something.

“She wants to know if there have been any offers on the… trophy?”

“No-“ Nowak started to reply but Summers put up a hand.

“Sarge you’ve never done negotiations before, have you?” Summers turned to Asle. “Tell her we had a standing bounty in the next city. If she asks what it was, tell her you’re can’t discuss details, but they were very generous.”

Asle nodded and spoke again to the woman.

Summers caught a flash of tension in the woman as Asle spoke. It was a little odd, maybe elves weren’t as used to hiding their involuntary reactions like humans were. Or, more likely, their culture just didn’t encourage them to read one another. She lowered her head in thought, then raised five fingers while muttering something to Asle. Summers took that as her naming a price.

“She’s offering five – “

Summers cut her off. “Tell her thank you but no thank you.”

“Summers what the hell are you doing?” Nowak looked like he was debating whether or not he should jump in.

“Trust me. She was eyeing this thing since we got into the city, she’s not leaving without it. Watch while we’re talking, she’ll make another offer.”

“Seven.” Asle called over.

Summers pretended to consider that for a moment. “We’ll be willing to go as low as eight. And only because we value her safety and future business.” Summers looked at the wagon. “In fact, explain to her that we plan to be on the road again soon, we’ll buy one stone’s worth of food and supplies as part of the deal. You got that?”

Asle tilted her head in confusion but relayed the message anyway.

After a long second Summers heard the woman speak again.

“Ms. Synel agreed.”

“Summers we have no idea what a goddamn stone is.” Nowak whispered. He was looking at him like he was crazy.

“I know we just got seven of them. I really don’t want to haul this thing around much further anyway, do you?” He gestured to the monster.

Nowak shook his head, then crossed to the woman. After a quick back and forth, she bowed to Nowak, her left hand covering her chest. Summers saw Asle return the gesture, so they followed in kind.

As he lifted his head, he saw Ms. Synel watching him intently. She turned to Asle and asked her something. Asle gestured to Summers and said his name, he supposed this was about as much of an introduction as he was going to get. Her eyes lingered on him a moment before she turned to leave.

She didn’t seem happy. Even through her mask of indifference, that much was obvious. Good, that meant they at least weren’t getting ripped off.

Apparently, stones were metallic triangles with rounded edges. They were even larger than every other denomination Summers had come across. And true to their name, they felt like the kinds of stones you’d use to skip on a lake.

The group had stayed in the barn at Ms. Synel’s request. It didn’t take long until she’d delivered on the short list of goods they’d given her. And she had very much delivered.

“At least a hundred days’ worth of food, and that’s if we don’t ration it.” Cortez had concluded.

"Huh..."

There were crates stacked three high in the back of their wagon, each filled to the brim with travel supplies. Clothes, blankets, mundane tools. They had everything they needed. Summers actually had to move all the crap they’d gotten from the bandits to the floor the barn. They had completely restocked their supplies and then some, probably enough to last them all to Nevada. All with a single stone.

And they still had seven left.

They were going to need to do some shopping.