Off The Beaten Path

Lifestyle Swings

"Please." She gasped, her hands outstretched to one of the Garrison soldiers, "Please, just a little something for my boys. Please..." Tears and exhaustion clogged Bernell's throat as the guard brushed by, her arms falling to the side in defeat.

Food was scarce now, worse than before. Times were desperate. Bodies of the refugees clogged the streets, disease and filth was rampant. Homes were filled to bursting and crime had become prominent. Bernell watched from her place in the dirt where she had fallen. She watched as the Garrison regiment walked by, patrolling the streets; quelling any domestic unrest caused by the close quarters and desperate people. The cold of winter had made conditions nearly unbearable. Everything had gone from bad to worse it seemed.

"My husband was one of you!" She cried out suddenly, anger choking out her reason, fists full of dirt and snow as she crouched against the ground. "My husband..." she sobbed, "He did his job!"

One of the soldiers paused, listening as she ranted against them, though he was soon pushed forward to continue on his march. The crunching grind of snow beneath their boots answered her pleas.

"He died for us..." Her cries faded. "He died."

Slowly she moved back to her feet. The clothes they had handed out a week ago were now filthy, worn and threadbare from the harsh environment. She knew she was being selfish. Lots of people had died. Children, parents, lovers, warriors, carpenters... People were still dying from exposure. Her hunger fell back to the wayside, a constant hollow ache in her gut. She shuffled back to the hay pile her children had been sleeping on. They were full and content, she had made sure of that though her waist grew thinner while her stomach began bloating a little more every day. The Scout Regiment was supposed to have arrived by now. She knew the King was squirming in his seat at so many taxing on his Wall Rose. With the waste and the poverty and lack of resources Bernell was surprised they hadn't killed off the survivors. Though, she surmised, that may be what they were aiming at by giving them so little to eat. She ran a hair through her filthy brown hair and winced. It had once been a source of feminine pride for her. It was thick, long and healthy, falling to just below the small of her back braided, to the top of her ass when let down.

Now it was as ratty as disgusting as the rest of her. Gabriel woke and whined sleepily when she returned to the hay pile they had claimed as a bed, moving to snuggle against her breast. It wasn't comfortable, poking and itching. Often she'd had to fight animals for it - cats or rats hiding from the winter weather outside. She steeled herself. She would do what it took to survive. Even if it meant selling her body to do so. Her eyes drifted out over the dusky sky; pinks and purples warring with the star dotted black.

They had been kind and understanding at first, the people of Wall Rose. Some survivors, mainly wounded, had been transported back to Krolva and the other remaining outcropping cities to help ease the burden. A few families, mostly those with blood ties, had been championed by the royals within Wall Sina. Those select few were given jobs, homes, money - some had even been moved to the grand houses in the innermost sanctum. Those left homeless had been given bland but filling meals, cheap clothes, some had been able to find work to afford a little extra on the side and integrate into society again. Others, such as those left with children, had struggled to find places of employ. Bernell had met everything from disdainful scorn to:

'We'd love to hire you, but your children...'

A make shift sanctuary had been formed out of taverns and hotels, the open square where Bernell now slept with her children was designated a survivor location. she knew though, she knew that there were too many people, not enough food. Not enough space. Too much disease. Her heart clenched as she rubbed her son's soft cheek as the realization that they were going to have to kill people, to sacrifice their own. The only thing they were waiting on was how to do so diplomatically.