Crowsnest Highway, outside Grand Forks. Summer.
The door to the dusty RV shudders as the group takes turns pulling at it. It's hardly inconspicuous, but good sleeping stops are hard to come by. The sun is just about ready to crest above the mountains, casting the sky in a pale yellow.
Stef shifts to one leg, using the top of her free foot to itch it. The thought of what might be crawling in the tall grass is enough to set her imagination into overdrive. It doesn't help that she's short on sleep, but the adults insisted on moving through the city through the night to avoid detection. A rough hand lands heavily on her shoulder, causing her to flail. She catches her balance, and raises her head to see Kevin's leathery, gap-toothed face looking down at her.
"Ready for some sleep, kid?" He asks in a hushed but jovial tone.
If her heart wasn't racing from that scare, she would be.
"Yeah, definitely."
"Good. You kids will go first. You've all deserve it. We've got to protect our future."
He pats her on the back before heading over to help set up the RV. Stef retreats back into her thoughts, muffling the cranky arguments of the little kids around her.
She's one of the few kids left that remember the old world, but it's fading for her too, now. Every unimportant memory is being overwritten by days of survival and covert travel under moonlight. Kevin tells them it's the only way to be free, but some days Stef lets her mind wander into a dangerous fantasy. There's something charming about setting down roots, claiming one building as your home and seeing it every day.
What she has isn't community, it's a sickly herd limping to its end. Accidents happen, others can't continue and are left behind. Some are arrested by the cities they pass through. On the hungrier days, Stef wishes she'd get arrested, too. Kevin says it's not real living, that the mayors and sheriffs tell you what to do and where to go. It's funny to hear it coming from the man who controls their everyday, not that she'd tell him.
He says the little kids and teens like Stef are their future, but she can't see why. What future lies ahead for them if they're always on the run? Where could they go to where riders and collectivists wouldn't find them? Kevin acts as though she's some magic key to a future without a struggle, but he never says how.
For now, all Stef can do is put one foot in front of the other, and take rest where she can find it. But later...













