Oct 14th, 2083: The Empty House

We ruined the first couple of hides, of course.  Then Anthony managed to connect to the mainframe long enough to download a video.  He talked us through the last couple of hides, and come the next couple of days we should have enough to make a purse or something.  Excuse me, a satchel.  I know Sam well enough to know that she will scoff at anything so frivolous as a purse.  Practicality, that is the word Sam lives by.  Hm...  Maybe I would be better served to use the fur to line our boots.  Though we are out of Jack Frost's territory, the chill can still be deadly to those who don't take proper precautions. 

We are following the Missouri down to the next major town, Sioux City.  In this land, the Tall Man is king.  The borders of his land are clearly delineated.  At first, the stagevan traveled easily over the remnants of the cracked asphalt highways.  Then it stuttered and started to drag.  Underneath the stagevan's wheels, the asphalt had become covered in a black grass.  The sun seemed dimmer, a cold white orb in the sky. 

We stopped for water and the driver insisted that we tie ourselves to the van before refreshing our thirst.  I refilled my canteen and saw that while the water was clear and cold, the river had no bottom.  I dropped a blade of grass in the water, and rather than floating along on the current, it slowly drifted downward into the abyss.

As we traveled, we saw areas of forest and grassland that were taken over by black vegetation.  I watched a deer, startled by our approach, run into one of the patches, then disappear from my sight.  No trees for it to hide behind, only grass that immediately stilled as if it had never been there at all.

The entire day I felt as if sandpaper were being rubbed on all my nerves.  It seemed the entire party felt the same way, everyone was irritable and short-tempered.

We stopped for camp at dusk in an abandoned town.  All the buildings but one were crumbling, victims to the ravages of nature and time.  The sole exception was a lone house right at the edge of town.  While not as pristine as it might have been before the Sickness, it was the only one that seemed to have four sturdy walls and an intact roof.

It didn't take a genius to sense that something was wrong about that house.  I did not argue when the driver told us to set up camp in a building with no roof.  Anthony, however, took exception. 

"Why not that one?"  He argued, while I lit the fire.  Sam rolled her eyes and shook her head, then slipped out to hunt for our dinner. 

The stagevan driver tucked a wad of some black stuff in his lip. "It's a trap, kid.  Plain as day."  As he spoke, a flash of lightening ripped across the sky.  Oar and I worked together to brace a tarp over the fire so the approaching rain wouldn't extinguish it.  The heat from it was outstanding, it seemed to singe my flesh while I was still several feet away.  I had no doubt the small fire would be adequate to heat our roofless room.

Anthony and the driver exchanged more heated words, then the boy stormed off as large drops of rain began to patter.  His bedroll thrown over his shoulder, he disappeared through the door of the one intact house.

Our stagedriver spit a wad of noxious black liquid into the dark.  "Stupid."

I volunteered for first watch and during the darkening twilight hours my eyes stayed on the house where Anthony slept.  He had not yet appeared by the time I woke Oar for his shift.  I hope that no harm befalls him during the rest of night.