Cal didn’t really even notice that she’d been living in a mud and stick hut with a teenager for a month. She was enjoying herself. And she’d been right, more or less, that it would be a very good way to break a lot of the bad habits she’d developed over the last few years.

  She didn’t have a phone or computer, after all, on which to spend all day wasting time. She didn’t have a nice big couch or a television on which to spend all day wasting time.

  Being bored was just as bad as ever. It was just that she had far fewer options of what to do instead.

  From time to time over the last few years, Cal had thought to herself that she ought to try to get back into fabrication or machining. From time to time, she’d thought she should learn a new skill. From time to time, she had not thought she should make herself responsible for trying to raise a teenager in the woods.

  Now, the only other option was to sit around and think about things.

  Instead, Cal invented a pedal-operated lathe.

  While it was of no use for metal working, it turned out to be great for making handles for things. She could turn a branch into a pole and then file it flat on two sides and suddenly she had a relatively nice handle. She could even make it smooth with some stones and stain it a lovely dark brown with pine sap.

  Very importantly, Cal could even use the lathe to make wooden wheels. She could forge nails and, with the right combination of wheels, nails, poles, and boards, she could make a cart.

  Unrelated to the lathe, Cal was definitely getting the hang of forge welding and, therefore, the hang of making bigger tools. She made a cleaver for cutting meat, which was rare. She made a hatchet for chopping wood. She accidentally made a war-axe that was much too thin to chop wood. And she made a splitting axe, for splitting wood.

  She also made a hoe and a scythe, neither of which saw any use, but Sever was grateful for.

  For her part, Sever was focused on leatherworking and her own woodworking. She made a pair of matching leather jackets with nice big pockets and steel buttons. And she made several crates to get a lot of things out of the massive clay jars she’d apparently made when she first arrived.

  Cal and Sever were just trying to work out how to make a saw, since the first attempt had gotten stuck in a thin tree and proceeded to break, when things suddenly went wrong.

  It was inevitable, really.

  Despite feeling inevitable once it had happened, it was also a distinct surprise when things suddenly went wrong, if only because Cal and Sever were busy blacksmithing at the time and didn’t immediately notice the problem.

  The problem presented itself in the form of a loud shout. ‘William.’

  Sever froze solid.

  Cal looked around. The source of the shout was a middle-aged man in the woods. A number of other, younger, men stood around and nearby. All eight of them were armed with large knives and simple pistols. All eight of them wore nearly identical leather vests and pants, plain cotton button-down shirts, and had the same short hair in various shades of brown.

  Sever didn’t look.

  ‘William,’ the man shouted again. ‘You parents miss you, William.’

  Sever stayed exactly where she was.

  Cal took a shot in the dark. ‘There’s no William here,’ she shouted back, turning from the anvil.

  The middle-aged man who was shouting took a few steps closer, to the edge of the woods. ‘This doesn’t concern you, young woman,’ he called. ‘William’s parents want him to come home.’

  The others spread out around the shouting man.

  ‘There’s no one called William here,’ Cal shouted again. ‘Fuck off.’

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  Several of the younger men tensed, hands resting on their guns.

  The middle-aged man took another couple of steps closer, out of the woods. ‘That’s no way for a young woman to talk,’ he said, doing an outstanding job of projecting his voice. ‘And there is a William here. The boy beside you is William, no matter what he calls himself now, or cavorts himself as.’

  Cal didn’t look at Sever, that would be the wrong thing to do. Instead she took a few steps closer to the middle-aged man. ‘This girl is not William,’ she called. ‘You’re in the wrong place, old man. Fuck off.’

  As she stepped closer, the seven others spread out further and a couple of them drew their weapons.

  The man looked away from Cal and took a deep breath. ‘I would much rather this be a peaceful experience for us all, young woman,’ he said, sounding impressively genuine. ‘It doesn’t have to be.’

  Cal took a couple more steps closer to him, all of his followers drew their weapons. ‘It’s entirely up to you, old man,’ she said.

  Sever put a hand on Cal’s arm. ‘No, it’s… it’s fine,’ she muttered, not looking at anyone.

  Cal took a deep breath. ‘It’s clearly not fine,’ she said. ‘Given that there’s no one named William here, and he keeps calling me young woman with that tone of voice.’

  Sever managed to look at Cal for a moment. ‘It’s fine. I… you don’t have to get hurt.’

  Cal resisted the urge to break out into a cackle. She took several deep breaths, shot a glare at the octet of armed men, and leaned close to Sever.

  ‘You and I are going to have a chat about our lives before this point when we get out of this, Sever,’ she said. ‘If you don’t want me to get hurt, then right now you’ll do what I say.’

  Sever gave her a side-eye. ‘It’s… no… I’ll…’

  Cal cut in. ‘You’ll keep doing what you’re doing, I suppose,’ she said. ‘I will follow you closer. And, when I say, you will drop to the ground. Understood?’

  Sever glared and shook her head. ‘No, I don’t… they’ll…

  ‘They will not,’ Cal said. ‘And you will do what I say.’

  Cal had no idea what kind of expression she had on her face, no idea what her eyes looked like. After a few seconds of staring, Sever nodded.

  Sever stepped ahead of Cal. ‘Fine, fine,’ she said, holding out her hands. ‘There’s no need for this.’

  ‘Good boy, William,’ the man said. ‘I knew you were sensible.’

  Cal followed a few steps behind Sever, arms crossed, glaring at the middle-aged man. The younger men didn’t put their guns away, but they didn’t aim them at any one, and started to drift closer together as Sever crossed her garden.

  As Sever and Cal reached him, the middle-aged man made a sort of quelling gesture at the young men, who put their guns away.

  ‘Thank you, William,’ he said. ‘Your parents have missed you dearly. And you…’ He looked at Cal. ‘I apologise for the rudeness of this introduction. I am Brother Calvin Preacher. You are welcome to accompany us back home, if you so desire.’

  Cal held out her hand, smiling. ‘What a coincidence,’ she said. ‘My name is Calin Singer. And, while I appreciate the offer, I will not be accompanying you anywhere.’

  ‘What a lovely coincidence.’ Brother Calvin did something severely predictable. He took Cal’s hand and tried to turn her wrist, leaning over to kiss the back of her hand.

  Cal did something she considered severely predictable, but came as a surprise to everyone around. She stepped into Brother Calvin, pulled the pistol out of his holster, thumbed off the safety, racked the slide, and shot the sever other men surrounding them.

  Brother Calvin was frozen, most of the way to kissing Cal’s hand.

  Cal pressed the gun under his chin and pushed him away.

  ‘Now, Brother Calvin Preacher, I’m fairly sure this type of pistol has a seven round magazine,’ she said. ‘You don’t carry it hot, so I think your chances are good.’

  With her freed hand, Cal picked her knife out of a jacket pocket.

  ‘You can leave,’ Cal said. ‘Or you can not leave. Those are your options.’

  Brother Calvin stared at her for several very long seconds and Cal was immensely tempted to retract her offer. There was no good reason to let him go, after all. He would only be a problem, surely. It would be much safer to kill him now and be done with it.

  On the other hand, if he had named himself Preacher, chances were good that he’d become a martyr and cause just as many problems dead as he would alive.

  And Cal wasn’t a soldier anymore, was she? She didn’t have to kill everyone.

  ‘Young woman, I appreciate your grace,’ Brother Calvin said. ‘I will accept it for now. But understand that this is not finished.’

  Cal smiled. ‘Of course not. Now fuck off.’

  ‘Such language.’ Brother Calvin walked backwards, eyes locked with Cal, for what felt like a very long time. He had to turn, to not back straight into a tree and ruin the effect.

  Cal watched him go with a deep sigh.

  ‘All that and I didn’t even have to hit the dirt,’ Sever said, voice shaky.