The sound brought forth a strange mix of relief and new uncertainties. I wasn't sure if i am hallucinating or if it is some other twisted trick. One way or another I felt like I am being a prey in front of another predator. Her sharp gaze and no-nonsense attitude contrasted with her small stature. She wore a mask reminiscent of the Gron creatures, and her presence carried an air of respect.
As our conversation unfolded, I learned about the grim reality of the world. The camp at Balaton had long ceased to exist, destroyed during a massive Gron march from Russia to Italy. Settlements along the way were obliterated, leaving only scattered outposts with a few survivors. The last stronghold, according to Karen, was in Versailles, on the other side of Europe.
In the face of this new information, my initial plan seemed futile. However, my gut feeling insisted on heading to Balaton, a decision Karen found puzzling. She explained the different types of Gron creatures and their territorial nature, shedding light on my survival during the encounter with the Goliath.
Karen's reason for staying in this desolate world was rooted in the loss of everyone she knew. She acknowledged the inevitable fate that awaited her but chose to stay where she could witness the approach of danger.
As we conversed, I couldn't help but feel a strange connection to this world. The revelation that it had endured for at least two centuries left me in awe. Karen noticed the paleness on my face, a stark contrast to her apparent age. Despite the age difference, she invited me to share a meal before continuing my journey. She led us toward the tram stuck in the middle of bridge I wanted to cross.
Karen unlocked the makeshift door, revealing the interior of the tram converted into her shelter. The heavy metal sheets covering the windows hinted at the precautions she had taken to stay safe. The air inside carried the herbal scent, creating an odd but oddly comforting atmosphere.
"Make yourself at home," Karen gestured toward the end of the tram where her bed was set up, and a small kitchen area had been arranged.
I cautiously took a seat, my eyes wandering around the confined space. The proximity of the metal sheets felt both secure and confining. Karen disappeared into the kitchen, where a pot of stew was simmering over a small stove.
"So, Nathaniel," she called from the kitchen, "tell me about your life before all this. What do you remember?"
"Not Much." I lied.
"I travelled most of the time alone heading here from Zvolen." and then the silence filled the room. Only a pots in kitchen where whistling.
Karen came with two bowls of steaming stew. The aroma filled the tram, adding a sense of normalcy to the surreal surroundings. We sat across from each other, the clinking of our makeshift utensils breaking the silence.
"I never thought I'd share a meal with someone again," Karen admitted, her eyes revealing a mix of emotions. "It gets lonely out here, you know?"
I nodded in understanding, the weight of solitude pressing upon us. The stew provided a momentary reprieve, a reminder of shared humanity in a world where such moments were scarce.
After finishing the meal, Karen glanced at me with a newfound curiosity. "You said you were heading to Balaton, even though it's long gone. Why? What's drawing you there?"
I pondered her question, grappling with the inexplicable pull I felt toward a place that no longer existed. "I don't have a clear answer. It's like an instinct, a gut feeling urging me to keep moving forward."
She then stood up and went back to kitchen, filling up the pots this time with different herbs explained, that she boiled herbs at night to mask the scent of humans from the sensitive Gron creatures.
The tram felt like a temporary sanctuary, but the outside world, with its lurking dangers and unknowns, awaited our return.