The road was busy. The dirt path cut through a plain where trees grew spaced apart from one another. The road zigzagged through these small forests. Birds were singing loudly in all directions, their songs blending together at some points. Small rodents climbed up the trunks of some trees, and there were the bolder ones watching the caravan pass with their little black eyes.
Gabriel was simply enjoying the cool air of the place, sitting next to Nasor in the first cart. The sound of life and leaves rustling in the wind brought a great sense of comfort, and every now and then, the same wind would mess up his hair.
Another caravan passed closely by theirs, and for a moment, the men in front of their respective caravans exchanged looks that were anything but friendly. They were rivals in the trade, Gabriel thought, simply observing the situation unfold.
"Good morning," Nasor said with an exaggerated smile on his face.
"Morning," replied the other, showing just as many teeth as Nasor.
The uncomfortable situation lasted until the other caravan disappeared behind one of the bends, making the young man look at Nasor.
"I'll tell you, I didn't know you were so fake!"
"You're a killer, and I have no problem with that."
"Hey," the young man joked, pretending to have been hit in the chest. "You really do have a point. Now tell me something, is this tension between caravans normal?"
"It's always been," Nasor said tiredly. "But since the Militia of the Caravans raised the travel tax even more, things have only gotten worse."
Gabriel thought it was better not to get involved in that issue. The Militias were a problem for the Bunker, and he was just a Raven. But he knew enough to understand Nasor's frustration: the Bunker, as the center of population control, had people with specialized skills working in certain areas, sometimes not, and the leader of the Bunker was always someone chosen from one of the Militias. The current one came from the infrastructure sector, and the previous one had been from the caravans. And as had always been the case for the past seven hundred years, the person leading the Bunker focused more on the area they were most familiar with. The Ravens, on the other hand, were there only to serve as a defense for this weak democracy. This was why Ravens were always involved in essential activities for the functioning of the system. The young man knew this very well; after all, they wouldn't send Ravens with caravans if it weren't for these reasons.
"We're taking a different path," the young man said, trying to change the subject, since he didn't know what the path would be anyway.
"So you finally noticed!" Nasor said, pleased with the young man. "We need to stop somewhere first."
"What? No one told us about that!"
"It'll be quick. I don't intend to stay there longer than necessary myself. An Explorer Camp."
At hearing that name, Gabriel felt an unpleasant chill run down his spine. These camps were located near the Blights, areas full of radiation. The Explorers ventured into the Blights in search of knowledge and technologies to help the Bunker rebuild society. Although important, no one would want to get close to someone radiating that much energy.
"That's a bit of an unpleasant surprise," Gabriel said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
"Not just for you," Nasor admitted. "But it's necessary. The knowledge of the Ancients is worth far more coins than you can imagine."
Gabriel didn't disagree. The knowledge of the Ancients was one of the best ways to rebuild society, but the price of getting those books or research papers was too high. Suddenly, Gabriel jumped from his seat next to the caravan leader, landing on the ground without difficulty.
"I'll go talk to Naomi!" he said, running off before waiting for a response.
"Do whatever you want, but it won't change our course," Nasor said.
The Raven no longer paid attention to the man, moving past the carts as he searched for Naomi with his eyes. He saw that most of the vehicles were empty, as if they were going to pick up cargo. The only ones with any load were the last three carts, which carried rations and water for the animals and the workers of the caravan.
One of the new Ravens walked past Gabriel, giving him a long, penetrating look. The young man had to force himself to look away, trying not to laugh. This was probably the rookie's first mission, and he was clearly nervous.
"Gabriel?" a voice suddenly said from beside one of the animals pulling a cart.
Gabriel jumped in surprise, instinctively reaching for a knife he kept hidden under his shirt, but he composed himself when he saw it was Naomi calling him. However, it was too late, Naomi had already noticed, and she had to hold back her laughter, which thankfully she managed to do.
"Looking for me?" the young woman said, walking alongside a spotted bull, one hand on the animal's neck, which had its horns shaved down.
"Yes, you know we're not going straight to the Cave Two, right?"
"I was talking to the kids, and they mentioned we're going to stop at an Explorer Camp first."
"What a rip-off," Gabriel muttered.
"Stopping to think, Gabriel, now it makes sense why Strazza is here. She must need some Ancient Knowledge, and it wouldn't be possible for someone with no knowledge in her field to come in her place."
— "You must be right," the boy agreed reluctantly. "It'll be my first time in one."
Sinister little snaps caused the whole caravan to fall silent; someone's radiation meter made a noise. They were close to the camp. The camp was located at a safe distance from a Spot, so the buyers wouldn't die, but still, the atmosphere was tense.
It didn't take long to finally reach the site. Turning a new curve, it was possible to see the camp above a hill. From where they were, they could distinguish a tall iron wall with a large gate made of iron spikes. As they got closer, it became clear that sandbags were piled up strategically at several points along the wall, and behind them, mounted machine guns pointed in every direction. The wall was made of iron plates, four meters high. Some people walked behind the wall, indicating there was some structure behind the construction.
Gabriel was speechless at the armament that camp had; land-based machine guns were weapons that only the Bunker had, and this place had six of them—six that he could see. The people in front also carried high-caliber weapons, some as powerful as his Magnum. Another thing that caught his attention was the smell; the place reeked of lead.
The whole caravan stopped when two guards descended to speak with Nasor, both wearing white clothing and carrying Geiger counters tied to their waists, and they were young.
The conversation was brief, and the caravan didn't proceed directly to the gate, but instead turned to the right where they stopped. Quickly, everyone got off the carts with baskets tied to their backs, and the children were put in charge of feeding and taking care of the animals.
— "Looks like we'll have to go on foot!" Gabriel said, stretching excitedly.
— "I thought you weren't going in!" Naomi teased.
— "And miss an opportunity like this?"
The group moved ahead, approaching the open gates. Two of the mounted machine guns turned toward the newcomers, and the same people who had come to greet them were now behind the guns. Passing through the entrance, they came across a small community. A circular structure surrounded a group of buildings made from iron plates like those of the walls, with the houses arranged in the center forming a street.
One building faced another, and in the background, there were two more, these being as tall as the walls. Some figures in yellow suits moved among objects arranged on tables, analyzing them, but it wasn't possible to see exactly what they were doing from the distance they were from the entrance.
Gabriel, the Crow, was shocked to see RPGs leaned against the top of the walls as a measure of protection and flanking the entrance, four trucks with beds the height of the walls. Gabriel realized that even though it was an ingenious construction, it was still just a camp, and the vehicles were there to guard it, as well as to guard the cargo. And since the Bunker was the only one with access to fuel, it was clear that it had a hand in this place. The Explorer Militia existed, the boy understood.
Walking with Naomi, Gabriel began to notice the shops in the place. It was really a place unlike any market he'd ever been to before; the shops had everything from junk from the Ancients, like plastic toys, to paintings of people with instruments and band names written below, to objects like iron teapots and pots.
The fact that they were artifacts from the Ancients only added value to whatever they were. One shop caught his attention with weapon parts and knives, some with peculiar shapes or curved, no longer straight with only a sharp point and blade tips like theirs. He saw a silencer next to a set of knives with green handles and serrated blades. The silencer was the dream of any Crow from the Shadow Circle, but the ridiculous price of five hundred coins would discourage anyone.
— "This place doesn't make sense," Naomi commented, while looking at a plastic doll of an old, fat man dressed in white clothes and carrying a sack full of presents on his back. "As if it's both a regular market and a black market in the same place."
— "Naomi!" Gabriel exclaimed. "Look!"
The young woman followed her gaze to where the boy was pointing. In one of the stores, several people who had come in the caravans were gathered around an object with several iron plates, and the seller was tapping on it with a small piece of iron, making various sounds.
— "That is really cool," Naomi agreed, going to take a closer look, leaving her partner alone.
Gabriel thought about going too when he noticed something. The vendors had various tumors and unnatural spots on their skin. Not only them but most of the people circulating around the place. The number of pregnant women also caught his attention. Almost with a snap, he understood.
There were no older people because the radiation killed them, which is why it was only young people, and these were on borrowed time. That's why the birth rate was so high; they always needed more labor to exploit a Spot. Understanding this made him uneasy in the camp. Seeing vendors full of tumors, many of them just boys and girls, and seeing eleven-year-old girls already pregnant made his curiosity disappear.
Finally, he saw what the people in yellow were doing further back in the area. People wearing full-body suits with masks to protect their faces were carefully checking their Geiger counters to see if a product was safe to sell.
— "That was an experience," Gabriel muttered to himself, heading back toward the carts, planning to wait for the others there.