Page 98 of The Outsider
The stable was large and run by a short old man who everyone called Corny, and a few of his kids. He’d always been an odd guy who collected weird Old World artifacts just for the hell of it. Once, I traded him a mint condition pocket watch, which apparently, he still wore, tucked into the breast pocket of his jacket.
“Didn’t think to see you again, young man!” he exclaimed as we rode up. “It’s been a very long time…and you brought a lady friend! This why you haven’t been visiting us?”
“Yep,” I replied, flashing a grin toward Claire. “She’s got all my attention lately.”
Claire smiled shyly back. We both dismounted our horses, and I traded a small flask of beer for their stay. I’d made the first new batch of beer with barley I’d traded for back in the Valley and brought several of the small bottles today. Quality alcohol was always in demand.
We walked back toward one of the gates, and I gave Claire the rundown.
“Act like everyone is armed, because they are,” I said. “Don’t be scared by any aggressive sellers. They’re pushy, but they can’t do anything else. The residents shut down trouble pretty quickly, but still, not everyone who passes through here is someone you want to know.”
Claire chewed her lip. “Will there be a slave market?”
“No,” I answered firmly. “Not allowed. The standard of living here is a lot higher than Little River. That doesn’t mean there aren’t any traffickers here, though, so stay close and alert.”
After checking in with the guards, we were allowed through, and Claire’s eyes widened. The trading part of the Post was mostly one street that people called the main strip, and it was lined with marketstalls and small caravans. There were a few more permanent shops set up in the ruins of Old World houses. Holes in the walls were filled in with mud bricks and wood planks, and retrofitted fire pits kept the shops warm. It wasn’t as busy along the main strip as during the warmer months, but there were still a bunch of vendors, and visiting shoppers strolled casually down the street. A few guards patrolled the main strip at all times, and it kept things quiet on most days.
Compared to Little River, it was night and day, and surprise was written on Claire’s face as she took it in.
“It’s so…cute,” she said, glancing at me. “Like a little Christmas village.”
“It’s definitely better than most settlements,” I replied. “Mostly because it’s remote, and the residents here take out the trash when needed.”
I took her hand and walked with her down the strip, pointing out the things I recognized. We went into one of the more permanent shops which billed itself as a general store, and I traded for ammunition and a small pair of jade earrings that I caught Claire admiring.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she protested.
“I know. I wanted to. Get used to it.”
She huffed, then laughed and hooked her arm through mine. As we got to the end of the strip, she pointed to the last house, which had a bunch of people milling around outside.
“What’s that? Lots of people.”
“Tavern calledLongfellow’s,” I answered. “Been here forever. Beer tastes like piss, though. Wouldn’t recommend it.”
She laughed. “Sounds like they could use some of your stock.”
“Maybe in the spring, yeah,” I said. “They have seasonal festivals here, and the spring one is the busiest. They have music sometimes. We could come back in June, if you like, for your birthday.”
“I’d love that,” Claire replied with a smile.
We made a few more rounds among the stalls, which sold a totally random assortment of crap, including bath products, hammers, and old radios.
“Why radios?” Claire asked, raising an eyebrow.
I shrugged. “Probably the only form of long-distance communication that still exists. When you have no phone lines and no internet, radio is what’s left. Who knows if any of them still work, though. Athome, we’re able to maintain ours.”
The next stall sold a mishmash of books, and predictably, Claire jumped on it. We traded to get a geography book and a couple novels for teenagers.
“Allie will love these,” Claire gushed, holding up something calledHelp! My Boyfriend is a Vampire, with a faded drawing of a teen girl next to a teen boy wearing a ridiculous-looking cape on the front.
I raised an eyebrow at the cover, and she laughed. “I promised her that I’d find her a book she’d like to read, remember? She needs something more appropriate for her age. She says she doesn’t like to read, but it’s because she’s bored.”
“I didn’t think reading was something fun till I met you,” I admitted. “I just thought it was something you did because you had to, to learn things.”
“Learning can be fun,” Claire countered, and I smirked.
“I think you might be a little biased.”
