Chibron was nestled in a valley at the base of three hills. From our vantage point at the top of the nearest peak, its layout was plain to see. It was a humble and unobtrusive town. The only access was through its main street, which was unpaved and lined with planks. The wooden buildings around the perimeter faced inwards, the gaps between them seeming impossibly small from our height. Their configuration formed a wall at least a story high, protecting what lay within. It had clearly been built with defense in mind.

As we crested the hill and descended into the valley, we passed small, uniform plots of farmland, some of which were fenced in and occupied by deer-like mammals with loopy horns. Although the farms were small, they were well organized, and I had no doubt that they allowed the town to be completely self-sufficient.

As we pulled in front of the entrance, Nico drew his gun, rested it on his lap, and warned me to stay by his side. He cut the ignition, and I looked ahead; the road was completely abandoned, making Chibron look like nothing more than a ghost town.

“Put your hands up,” a voice snapped from above, making me flinch in my seat. I glanced at Nico, and we slowly climbed out of the UTV. I raised my arms above my head, and he held up his good arm. “Both of ‘em!” the voice shouted. I tracked it to a spot on the roof of the nearest building, where the barrels of rifles were just barely visible over the edge.

“I’ve been injured, I can’t raise this arm,” Nico said firmly. Slowly, he brought his good hand to his mouth and ripped off the shirt he’d used as a temporary mask in the Wastelands.

There was silence above us. Then, “Captain?”

“I’ve never received a greeting like this before.”

There was some scrambling above before three men emerged from behind the building. “Forgive us, Captain,” the first man said, holding his hands out in front of him in a gesture of peace. I looked him over: he was slight, but his skin was weather-hardened, and his waist was lined with so many holsters I worried he would tip over.

“Welcome, Captain,” the second man added. “But who is this?”

Nico glanced back at me. “An ally.”

“Can you vouch for her?”

“Of course.”

“And are you sure you haven’t been followed?”

Nico stood up straighter. “What the hell is going on?”

“Forgive us, forgive us,” the first man said again. “Lately we have had a few… scares.” His hand wandered close to the holster on his hip, and his eyes grey hooded. “We were visited last week by strangers who claimed to support our cause, but they could not be trusted. It was the fourth incident this year.” From his expression, I could glean the fate of the strangers.

“That’s unacceptable. If Chibron falls, headquarters could too,” Nico replied, beginning to pace in front of the UTV.

“Well…” one of the men spoke, watching Nico out of the corner of his eye, “there are those who believe that we should stop our dealings with the HQ altogether. That perhaps they are the reason Chibron is being threatened.”

“Excus-” Nico began, but he was cut off as the first man clapped a hand on the speaker’s shoulder in an apparently friendly gesture. The speaker’s face grew pained, but he forced a smile.

“Gerald,” the first man said, “certainly you wouldn’t suggest such a thing to the Captain, when he has done so much for his town.”

Slowly, the speaker nodded, and the first man smiled. “Right, then, come this way. While you’re in Chibron, you’ll have the best accommodations.”

***

We stayed in Chibron for three nights. The days were spent resting, and Nico and I kept to ourselves, made easier by the fact that we were assigned separate rooms. True to the man’s word, they were homely and comfortable, on the third story of a wooden cottage located right in the center of town. From the windows, I could see the farmland outside the walls and the hills in the distance. We had no need to leave our rooms, as food and water was brought to us by our host, the cottage’s owner. It kept us from meeting the residents—for their benefit or ours, I didn’t know.

I spent most of my time watching the main street through the window. Chibron itself was habitually quiet. The population was small, with only a few thousand people living within the town’s confines. They lived simple lives, only going where they needed and spending most of their time farming. The streets were often empty, and there were few storefronts, with most of the trades being done inside one’s home. There were no TVs and few radios, as modern technology was expected to be under the king’s influence.

When I did see townspeople, they were always armed to the teeth and wearing tired, downtrodden expressions. I grew to understand that although the town may’ve been undiscovered by Keon, his presence was felt just as largely as in Trilow or Westborren.

Each day, I watched as a small group left the walls with shovels and wheelbarrows. They were digging a trench at least two yards deep, surrounded by a fence of criss-crossing wooden spikes. The hard earth resisted their shovels, but eventually gave way in large, rocky chunks, and they carried in lumbar from the scraggly trees over the hills.

On the first day, Nico appeared over my shoulder. “They’re fortifying the town,” he said. “Keeping out everything and everyone.”

“They are afraid all of the time.”

“Yes. It’s how they survive.” He rotated his right arm, newly bandaged by the town medic. “If Keon found this town, he would send a fleet of bombers, and that would be the end. It’s happened before. There would be no use for trenches or pikes. They’re just wasting their time, but they won’t listen to me. Not anymore.”

***

On our last day, our host led us outside of the town’s walls at dawn. I had expected to see the UTV, but instead, two of the large horned animals were waiting for us by the exit, fitted with padded leather saddles. A woman was holding two ropes tied around their necks, which she handed off to Nico and I. I took the rope and the animal bleated indignantly, looking back toward its owner. It was even larger up close, standing almost to my shoulder with a vaguely rectangular body, thin legs, and wide hooves. It smelled like hay and cut grass. As I looked at it, it tossed its head, heavy under the weight of its massive horns.

I looked at the trail ahead. It was still flat, and the distant hills appeared no worse than the ones we had already traversed. “Can’t we take the UTV?” I asked tentatively.

Nico was already fitting our bags into the animals’ saddles. “We’ll need them,” he said, “and it will make our tracks less obvious. Relax, it will be fine.”

My animal eyed me suspiciously. “What are they?” I asked the woman.

“Bighorn sheep. Chibron has bred the finest rams for decades,” she replied with pride. “Yours is named Alpizeep.”

“Uh huh,” I nodded. “So they’re tame?”

“Of course.”

My ram stamped its feet and bleated again. I looked desperately at Nico, but he was already raising himself onto the saddle. His ram shifted in protest, and he patted its side to comfort it. “Take care of them,” the woman said with a hint of sadness.

“Don’t worry. They will fit in well with the flock at HQ.” With that, he reached down and helped me into the saddle. Between the leather panels, the animal’s coat bristled my legs.

“Take care,” Nico said, and I swore he sounded relieved to be leaving.

“Godspeed,” they replied.