Perhaps We'll Meet Another Day

Unfamiliar Places

Shachi, Penguin, and Law were escorted to one of the trailers at the back-most end of the camp, directly opposite the main gate and smack dab in the middle of the ring of vehicles. It was a beat-up, rusting old thing. Once painted a pale green, the layer of color was severely aged and chipped away more than it was present, eroded by weather and littered with the odd dent or two. Or twelve. Margaret had stopped in front and presented it with a wide grin and a sweeping arm, as if showing off her most prized possession.

"Welcome to the guest suite!" She'd said, chuckling at their dubious expressions. Her cheeriness never wavered, but 'suite' was a bit of an understatement in their opinion.

Inside wasn't much better, though the exterior hadn't given them high expectations to begin with. Without any electricity, they were forced to use Margaret's flashlight to see anything at all, and it wasn't too flattering. Most of the interior workings had been stripped from inside, allowing more room for the occupants to move around. The front seat had been removed, the door to the toilet was gone, including the toilet itself. When asked about it, Margaret said they didn't have a way of cleaning out the tanks without creating a disgusting mess, so they were removed from all but one, the designated trailer just for that purpose at the other end of the encampment.

On either side of the main living space was a bed, covered in a nest of old, graying blankets. They looked disturbed, like someone had slept there previously, but not recently. According to their host, there was another one further back behind a curtain, what would have once been the 'master bedroom.'

"Any newcomers who come through sleep here." Margaret had explained, letting them wander the inside to familiarize themselves with their temporary shelter. "If we decide they can stay, we'll assign them another camper with more permanent items later, but this should do ya for the night."

Reminding them once more that their weapons would remain in the hands of Marve, the previously mentioned guard, and that they'd best get as much sleep as they could, she bid them a goodnight and exited out the door, her footsteps carrying her away from them quickly.

"Well, I'm beat." Shachi said immediately after, flopping onto one of the beds set up against the wall. It creaked in protest as he bounced on the mattress, but otherwise looked comfortable enough. He let out a groan as he stretched, curling down to relieve his feet of his boots.

Penguin followed his lead and took up the other bed opposite. "Thank God we found this place..." He muttered, taking off his hat and setting it aside. Shachi grunted a low agreement but said nothing more, too focused on the objective of sleep.

Law wasn't too broken up about having to take the bed in the back. It would give him some time with his thoughts, perhaps. Skirting past them up the center aisle, Law pulled aside the tan curtain hanging from the ceiling over the doorway and peered inside.

Fitting the overall quality of the rest of the camper, Law wouldn't exactly call it spectacular or five star, but it would do. You couldn't be too picky these days anyways. Options tended to be limited. A queen-sized bed was set against the wall, two small side tables installed on either side. He opened them out of curiosity and found nothing inside. Unsurprising.

He glanced back and noticed that both of his companions were already laying down and making themselves comfortable for the night. They must have been worn out from the long day of hiking, and he didn't blame them. He too was rather exhausted, but the fear of being in an unfamiliar place without his weapons was making it difficult to relax.

Not for the first time since arriving at what Margaret had called 'Woodsville,' an overtly unoriginal and creatively lacking name to be quite honest, Law reached behind him and rubbed between his shoulder blades, missing the constant, reliable weight of his sword on his back. It was probably locked away in a drawer somewhere, kept under watchful eye of a guard or two. Margaret's condition for entering the camp was a logical and practical one, but he'd still much prefer to keep his primary means of protection on him. You never knew who you couldn't trust.