"ASTORIA MILITARY PROPERTY – AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY"
Oh. No, there's no possible way. How could this group belong to the military? There's an elderly man here and a teenage boy! Although, I suppose Adam Hazelton was in the military from a young age as well… still! Regardless! Nothing about this group seemed military to me at all.
I tried to shove those thoughts from my head as we came upon a dirt road, winding down to a decently sized house and a collection of log cabins beside it. The main buildings were nestled flush with the tree line, while the front of the property was fenced in for cattle and what appeared to be bison. My mind wandered to the cowboy from earlier as I imagined him as a bull beastfolk and what that might look like. I pictured him with big floppy ears and two horns poking up out of his hat, his expression still perpetually agitated. Then I wondered if he was hiding a pair of ears up there under that hat, and what they might be.
I was caught off guard as Von interrupted my daydreaming, scooping me up into his arms and carrying me off into one of the cabins away from the main house. When I asked where we were going, he only said, "To wash up." Food would come later, I supposed. Upon arriving indoors, he sat me down on a chair and dragged out from the corner a large basin made of galvanized tin. He rested it before the fireplace, which already had a boiling pot of water above it.
"Like in the cowboy movies," I mumbled to myself, catching the man's attention.
"That's right," he smiled. "We're gonna fill her up with hot water and you can soak and wash off. Good for the bones and all that."
I nodded in agreement, then paused. "Wait, you know what movies are?" I tilted my head. It wasn't as if you could have electricity, right? Wait, but the ATVs had batteries inside them, surely…
He let out a hearty laugh. "Of course, girly. This cabin might not have running water, but we've got all sorts of mainland technology in the main house. We just ain't wastin' it on a potential troublemaker like you," he said with a smile as he dumped water into the basin.
I crossed my arms, confused. When he left and returned with another bucket of water, I decided to press further. "Do you have internet?" If it was possible, I'd like to message my family and let them know I'm alive. Despite our strained relationship, I didn't doubt they were upset and worried.
"Nah, not here. They do on the base, though," he answered, putting a kettle on the fire as well. As if able to predict my next question, he continued, "My family's contracted by the military, mostly. Some of them, like my big lil' sis and Grandpa, are officially enlisted."
"What do you guys… 'do'?" My ears flattened, expecting him to answer with murder-for-hire. "And how can your sister be both 'big' and 'little'?" I added for clarity.
"Awh, Shania's the eldest of my two younger sisters. So she's big lil' sis, and the other's the lil' big sis, since she's a good foot taller than Shania—despite being younger!" he exclaimed proudly, crossing his arms. They seemed close, causing a pang of envy in my heart. I wished my siblings and I got along so well. "And we just do this and that, y'know. Buildin' roads, food supply, mostly errand work. That's how it'll be for most people you meet out this way," he added. "Unless they're in an orange suit or wearin' yellow."
My curiosity hit me like a tidal wave. "What's up with the yellow bandana thing?" I asked instinctively, only to wonder if I should have kept my cards closer.
His expression dropped, suspicion flickering across his face. "How do you know about them?" His tone was firmer now, less jolly. His accent shifted ever so slightly.
"That man in the hat I met. He told me he'd pay me five silvers for yellow bandanas, and ten silvers for scalps," I confessed. Better to be honest at this point. When he asked me to describe the man, I did so. "Tall, real tall. He had on a hat with two feathers stuck in it, some guns on him, and a big knife in his back pocket. He was a real bastard—pardon my language," I flinched, only to find an amused expression from Von. "Blonde, brown eyes, accent ten times as thick as yours."
Von sighed, leaning back in his chair and raising a finger to his chin. "There's a lotta people that match that description in the southeast. He's probably a bounty hunter lookin' to enterprise," he concluded. "Don't get mixed up with guys like that, if you can help it. Even their parents can't be damned to name 'em."
I wondered how a child wouldn't have a name, and so I assumed it was just a manner of speaking. There was a brief silence as Von tended to the bath again, this time ending his work with the retrieval of the kettle. He set it on the table, rummaged through the cabinets, and poured some brown powder into a cup. I could tell immediately it was hot cocoa.
"Bandits, bandanas. You'll see that yellow bandanas out here represent Cross Boys—a rotten lot of career criminals. Don't worry about them either; you'll be dead by the time you do," he smiled. Upon noticing my startled expression, he clarified, "Cross Boys are a terrorist group. They kill anythin' and everythin' in the name of their god. Your bounty hunter's probably bein' paid by a fellow rancher."
I sipped my cocoa quietly, taking it all in. When the bath was finished, he lingered over it for a moment, sizing me up with his eyes. My face went red, my imagination running wild at an inopportune time.
"Do you need help bathin'?" He smiled.