The Steam War (The Steam War #1)

Chapter 10: A New Life

It had been a full year since Cal had been brought to Brass Isle. The months had been long, but she'd come to love life in her new home. She felt almost as happy as she had with her roommate. In retrospect, her new life seemed almost too good compared to what she'd gone through on the Island.

She laced up a pair of brown boots that were gifted to her and stepped out of her room. With a quick check in her mirror, she glanced at the scar she'd received from getting hit a year ago. It stretched across her left temple. She ran her finger along the scar, feeling it stripe back to her ear.

Then, ready for the day ahead of her, she kicked into gear. First, early in the morning, she helped tend to the animals on the island. It usually took a few hours, and she had to be done by eleven for her second job, so her mornings started at dawn. In her other job, she helped make lunch at the island's food lines.

The rest of the day was hers for doing whatever she wanted. Making lunch at the food line was her favorite part of the day, partially because she could socialize with everyone on the island as she served dishes, but also because the cafeteria attached to the line had the only public television on the island. She could catch up on news from all over the world while deciding what to put on the menu.

By the time she made it over to the animals, her friend Zac was already feeding them. He was always earlier than her, but that was because he lived right next door to their setup.

"Hey Cal," he said to her, as he was giving the island's cats a couple packages of whatever the cat food was. He had a mud apron on, meaning he was getting ready to deal with some of the livestock. All she had to do now was deal with the dogs.

"Hey, Zac," she greeted back, ringing a cowbell to signal the dogs. One by one, they all came running, tails wagging and tongues flopping. She filled all six bowls with food before making sure all of their water bowls were loaded up as well. The gratitude she got was a few barks and a couple of hand licks. She was always more of a dog person, she decided.

"Got any plans later today?" Zac asked, removing a clingy cat from his leg.

"Never," she laughed. "You know better. I'll probably just do some more reading after lunch."

"Would you want to meet over in the square, then? There's something happening that you definitely won't want to miss."

"That's oddly cryptic," she responded. "What's happening?"

"It's a surprise. Are you down?"

"Sure, I guess. How does around three sound?"

"Sounds great. I'll see you then, Cal!" He zipped away to his other morning task, leaving her to wonder what he was on about. She'd seen the list on the square's bulletin board earlier in the week and hadn't spotted anything that stood out. It was just a normal day.

He must be planning something, she thought.

The notion would have to wait. There were pigs to deal with. They were always dirty and sloppy, which was, in her opinion, the worst combination. The island had an assortment of different pigs, and they would all hang out near one particular pond all day. The area surrounding the pond was, unsurprisingly, solely mud. At dusk, they tracked it all back to their straw pens, creating a mess wherever they went.

"Stinky, dirty pigs," she said, filling the last water trough. They went immediately to the troughs, a noisy stampede of stubby-legged animals.

She popped by the square to check the list again. All it had were normal events and announcements up, including a message about part of the coastal fence that still needed to be fixed.

The coast wasn't really an actual coast. It was a drop off surrounded by a fence that bordered the entire island. She'd learned about it somewhere into her second month, after finally having the will to go out and explore. The island was roughly a mile wide in any direction, and you weren't allowed to wander past the fence, which sat about twenty feet from the drop-off.