Hope's Ruin

11 | Number Nine

"Erin!" called a voice from the barn. A boy's voice. Keen and kind. "All clear?"

Erin held up her free hand, spun the pistol in the other and tucked it expertly into her pink belt. "All clear," she echoed. "She has...Number Nine."

"What?" The boy approached holding a long weapon made from engine parts and fabric. By his feet skittered an obedient, wide-eyed dog with white fur and black feet. "Did you say...Number Nine?"

"This is Marshall," said Erin. "And Socks."

"Hello, Socks," said Pepper instinctively, bending down to pet him.

"And you?" asked Marshall. "What's your story?"

"Pepper," she said. "From Ashewood City originally, but I spent some time Silver Hollow and Hope's Ruin."

Erin and Marshall looked lost. "Where?"

"Silver Hollow and Hope's Ruin," Pepper said again. "A cave system and a...well...a fairly unwelcoming city as it turns out."

Erin wandered towards the quad bike where ran her hands over Number Nine's monitor and motherboard.

"You must be tired," Marshall said.

"Exhausted."

"Come inside."

* * *

Erin and Marshall, ably accompanied by Socks, led Pepper into the farmhouse. They passed through a neatly ordered, pristine kitchen and into a double-height living room. An armchair and a sofa dominated the space, surrounded by stacks of books. Pepper was warmed to see maps and charts like those in the Millennium Kestrel pinned to the walls. Coloured thread drew lines from one to the next, punctuated by tacks and paper clips, framed with a splatter of pink and yellow quippy quips. Above the sofa, a painting retained some vertical real estate. It showed a mighty galleon in the midst of some chaotic war.

"Sit," said Marshall, indicating the armchair.

Erin and Marshall sat opposite on the sofa. Socks nestled on the boy's lap.

"Tell me everything," said Erin.

Pepper dragged her eyes away from the maps and focused the girl. Erin looked sad and tired. She wore her long brown hair in two pigtails that weaved in and out of her dungarees. The frames of her glass were lopsided, but perhaps her nose was a little wonky. She had kind eyes, edged with exhaustion and worry.

"You're looking for someone," Pepper said, pointing to the maps.

"My brother. Clyde. It's been...years."

"What year is it? Does anyone know anymore?" Pepper said conversationally, then, "I have a brother too. Fisk."

"Where is he?"

"I—" Pepper felt awkward. "I left him behind. We had a disagreement."

Erin twitched.

Marshall lent forward. "Tell us about Silver Hollow. And Hope's—?"

"Hope's Ruin."

Pepper sunk back in the armchair. Her stomach growled. "Fisk and I were home alone when the storms came. Our parents never returned from work. Days, weeks passed. We should have stayed there, high in our tower block apartment. But we panicked and thought we could find them. Mom and Pop. Like adventurous kids do in movies. We stole a rescue dingy and rowed out across the waves, but all we found was death and danger. As the tides rose, we became stranded. It was more by luck than judgement—although Fisk insists that he knew exactly where we were—that we found the tip of the Greygorm Mountains and navigated our way to the cave system beneath."