Isabel took one last look into the bright street lined with oil lamps and men stoking smoldering fires, before ducking back into the hovel she shared with her husband and children. She brushed the curtains gently into place to block the light seeping in from the greater encampment. The smoke wafted through the hole still, pervading their home with reminders of the world outside. Javier was tucking their daughters, Teresa and Maria, into their cots. The four shared one room, and they felt lucky to have managed to stake out such a space for themselves alone.
“Papa?”
“Yes, Maria?”
“Do we leave tomorrow?”
“I don’t know. We won’t know until we have to.”
Maria’s face turned away and her mother could see that she was troubled. She knelt at the side of the bed and ran her fingers through her daughter’s black hair.
“The world has changed a lot, Maria. There aren’t any safe places. There just isn’t. The senate sends watchers every day to guide our path. We just have to trust them, stay safe, and live the best we can. I know it’s hard. And one day soon we will travel again. Maybe we will find happier homes and friendly people. But for now we just have to wait.”
She kissed Maria’s forehead.
“But God will walk with us. Just trust Him.”
Maria smiled.
“Ok, Mama.”
Isabel saw her eyes drooping already. She leaned in, and kissed her once more, then turned, and did the same for Teresa, who was already asleep. Isabel felt her own eyes growing heavy, and sought the corner Javier and herself shared. The ground was hard, and although they had no source of light in their home, the dancing fires from the window flashed through the shifting border of threadbare fabric and chipped wood. It flickered across their only furniture, the sparse cots her daughters currently slept in and the lone chair, standing near the window. Javier’s face caught the dancing light, and his sunburned features opened her heart. Every day she lay next to this man, this man whom she had known for nearly thirty years, and every day her heart broke for him. Everyone had to work for the good of all. Some tried to shirk their duties and laze about. Her husband was not one of those. Everyday he placed their people upon his shoulders, because he knew the alternative. Not only could they all be found, and killed but, failing that, the senate would prescribe heavy sentences for those they found to be insufficient.
Survival was becoming more and more difficult. The beasts had devoured everything. Food, shelter, natural flora and fauna… There was no longer any recourse but to run. Maybe five years ago, maybe in another world…
But now, all they could do was run. Together. Isabel curled up into the crook of Javier’s chest, his rhythmic breathing rocking her gently to sleep.
The fires burned outside their window until daybreak. Horses rode down the street three times, their riders shouting quick reports to watchmen. Curtains drew open and shut in the windows across the street, and the beating of wings grew imperceptibly through the glossy darkness.