4338.210.2 | A Safe Home

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Signalling the return of Paul to the camp, Lois came bounding into the tent where I had decided to have a lay down because my leg was aching, despite it looking better. I wouldn't be surprised if it remained sore for at least a few more days, but I was feeling more confident that the worst was over and it was really now on the mend.

Lois sniffed Henri, who did his best to pretend not to like her. The poor fella had been sulking in his bed all day. It was clear that he missed his brother.

"Kain," Paul called out to me as he entered the tent, a high tone of excitement in his voice.

I sat upright, wincing as I did so.

"You have a caravan."

"Huh?" I asked, completely confused.

"Beatrix has delivered the first caravan and given your injured leg-" he paused and nodded toward my legs hidden beneath the sleeping bag fabric as he spoke, "I'm assuming that is why you are in here resting?"

"Yeah," I agreed with a nod, unwilling to confess that it was also my way of trying to avoid being around Chris. The camp really is too small, I reminded myself.

"In that case, it makes sense that you take the first caravan. If anything else attacks us in the middle of the night, I doubt you'll be running anywhere," said Paul.

I was taken aback by Paul's remarks. I couldn't tell if he was being completely serious. Does he really believe that we could experience another night attack so soon? The unsettling thought caused a small knot to form in my gut.

Paul continued. "I've parked it outside for you."

Regardless of whatever threats may still be out there in the vast unknown, the idea of moving out of the tent and into something a little more secure sent a surge of energy through my veins. Scrambling to get out of the sleeping bag, I collected Henri from his bed and followed Paul outside. I was gobsmacked. Paul was right. The caravan sat fifty yards from the campfire, just within the border of the fire stick perimeter.

"I have to unhitch it from your ute again, though," said Paul as we approached the caravan. "I'm expecting Beatrix to bring us a few more."

My heart thumped loudly in my chest as I followed Paul toward the new vehicle. I had to admit, the thought of not having to sleep in a tent for another night was more than a little exciting. "How is Beatrix paying for them all?" I asked curiously, as Paul handed me the keys and I opened the caravan's door with a loud creak.

Paul chuckled softly. "I didn't dare ask her."

I scoffed silently to myself. Paul was probably wise there. Stepping inside, I let Henri down. "It's nice," I commented, surveying the plush furnishings. The kitchen was cozy, but the supply of a small refrigerator, stove, and sink would be welcome commodities. A reasonably-sized seating area accompanied the comfortable sleeping arrangements.

Henri sniffed the entire area several times before quickly stopping beside the double bed at the far end. After several attempts, he finally jumped onto the bed and with a few circles, he plonked himself down and snorted with satisfaction.

"Looks like there's no complaints from Henri," said Paul with a light chuckle, his face beaming with the pride of a father wholeheartedly satisfied with giving his children Christmas gifts.

"Is this really all mine?" I asked, excitedly opening and closing every drawer and cupboard I could find. I'm not sure that I was expecting to find anything, but the emptiness meant that I would no longer have to live out of a backpack.

"It is indeed," Paul confirmed. "I know it's practically empty now, but between Luke and Beatrix, I'm sure it won't be more than a few days before you'll have yourself a fully stocked and self-sufficient little home here."

I nodded in silent agreement.

"You can move your belongings in as soon as you like," said Paul. "I'll head back to the Drop Zone to wait for Beatrix, but there's really not much more that can be done there right now."

"And what will become of the tents?" I asked, curious to learn if Paul already had plans for them.

Paul didn't hesitate with his response. "Until we get the first sheds operational, we'll use the tents for more storage. I think it's safest if we can avoid sleeping in them as much as possible."

"Can't really argue with that," I said, nodding again.

Heading for the door, Paul took the first step and stopped abruptly. Turning back to me, "Henri seems to be comfortable with you. Are you happy to look after him in Jamie's absence?" Paul asked.

Henri raised his head momentarily at the mention of his name, but quickly rested it back on the bare mattress.

A warm understanding smile passed my lips. "Of course," I answered.

After confirming that I was happy with the location, I helped Paul unhitch the caravan and, after Lois jumped into the front cab, the pair headed back to the Portal, leaving plumes of dust billowing into the air in their wake.

Stepping back inside the caravan, I inhaled deeply. A strong scent of detergent entered my nostrils, indicating that the vehicle had been very recently thoroughly cleaned.

The mattress squeaked softly as I sat beside Henri. "It does feel nice to have our very own space, doesn't it," I told Henri as I gave him a gentle scratch behind his ear. "We'll be safer in here," I said softly.


Engaging in the task of transferring my meagre belongings to the comforting confines of the caravan, I started with Henri's bed and toys, carefully arranging them to recreate a semblance of familiarity in our new abode. Casting a glance at Duke's empty bed, a pang of sorrow resonated within me, a poignant reminder of the companionship we had lost. Uncertain whether the sight of Duke's bed would provide solace or intensify Henri's grief, I made the bittersweet decision to place it in a corner of the tent, bidding farewell to the lingering memories it held. The vacant bed stood as a solemn testament to the dangers that lurked in this unforgiving realm. Yet, a resolute determination tugged at my consciousness, urging me to bring Brianne here, to this haven amidst chaos.

Amidst my contemplation, Paul returned to camp, the arrival of a second caravan infusing a glimmer of hope into our otherwise desolate existence. Engrossed in conversation with Nial, he effortlessly integrated into the backdrop of activity, while I carried out my relocation task in serene silence.

Gradually, the camp surrendered to an eerie hush, its occupants lost in their individual pursuits. As a dull ache throbbed in my leg, a constant reminder of the healing process, I eased myself onto the plush mattress next to Henri. The weariness that enveloped me grew insurmountable, and I surrendered to the embrace of sleep, drifting into a realm where worries momentarily subsided.


A sharp, resounding knock on the caravan door shattered the veil of my unsettling daydream, and a symphony of barks from Henri filled the air. Weary eyes still heavy with fatigue, I roused myself from the reverie, rubbing away the remnants of my troubled thoughts, and cautiously swung open the door to reveal Paul, who let out a hefty grunt as he set down a weighty object before me.

My brows furrowed as I examined the unfamiliar contraption before my eyes.

"It's a power generator for the caravan," Paul announced, stretching his tired muscles as he spoke. "The latest gift from Beatrix. She's managed to bring us ten of them."

Curiosity ignited within me, widening my eyes in astonishment. "We've got ten caravans now?" I exclaimed, genuinely surprised by Beatrix's swift acquisition. Perhaps I had dozed for longer than I had realised.

Paul shook his head, clarifying the situation. "We've just received our third caravan, but it's good for us to try and get ahead where we can."

I nodded in agreement, even as a lingering skepticism tugged at the corners of my mind. Could we truly find a semblance of stability in this tumultuous realm?

"You're not going to help set it up?" I asked Paul, a hint of urgency lacing my words, as he turned to depart.

Pausing abruptly, Paul pivoted back towards me. "I've got no idea how these things work," he confessed with a nonchalant shrug.

A sigh escaped my lips, louder than intended.

Paul quickly continued, "But Chris knows what he is doing with them."

Paul seemed oblivious to the inner turmoil coursing through me, forging ahead with unwavering enthusiasm. "He and Karen have plenty of experience with these sorts of things from all the camping and outdoor expeditions they go on regularly. If you talk to Chris, I'm sure he'll be happy to help you get power to your new home." Paul assured me, a satisfied smile gracing his face.

"Thanks," I murmured, gratitude mingling with a lingering unease that gnawed at my conscience, overshadowing the relief that should have permeated my being.

Paul took a few steps forward before halting once more, turning back towards me. "I've allocated Karen and Chris the second caravan and Nial the third. Beatrix has promised we'll receive more over the next few days," Paul divulged, providing a glimpse into the evolving dynamics of our ever-changing camp, before bidding me farewell.

Emerging from the confines of the caravan, my senses absorbed the dusty landscape, the other two caravans now parked in close proximity. Paul's wisdom in maintaining a delicate balance between closeness and privacy was evident. My gaze lingered on the neighbouring caravans, determination flickering within me. I refused to succumb to the vulnerability of seeking Chris's aid. "Connecting a generator can't be that difficult," I muttered to myself, hands planted firmly on my hips, my gaze fixated on the incomprehensible device before me.

Time slipped away, unbeknownst to me, as I grappled with the intricate task of connecting the generator. Frustration tinged my voice as expletives escaped my lips, my scowl etched deeply upon my face.

"Do you need some help?" Chris's voice, familiar and unexpected, shattered the air, causing me to startle, my heart plunging into my churning stomach. Slowly, I turned to face him, my face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and trepidation.

"I'm assuming it was because of the voice?" Chris said, his voice laced with a gentle shrug, cautiously stepping closer, as he hinted at our previous altercation.

My narrowed eyes pierced through him, a surge of curiosity mixed with unease enveloping my being. So, he does hear the voice too?

"If it's alright with you," Chris continued, extending his hand towards the generator, "the incident never happened."

Chris's proposition resonated with me, an unspoken understanding that eased the tension in the air. "Sure," I acquiesced, my voice slightly hoarse, the desert dryness clinging to my throat. Suppressing thoughts of the voice and its implications, I yearned for a sliver of normalcy to be restored to our strained interactions. Yet uncertainty still lingered, leaving me uncertain of what more I should say.

"Come on," Chris beckoned, gesturing towards the power generator. "I'll teach you how to get this thing hooked up."

A glimmer of hope flickered within me as I regarded Chris, a newfound appreciation for his ability to maintain composure and a sense of control amidst the chaos. With a sigh of relief, I followed him, allowing a fraction of trust to seep back into my wary heart.

"Where should we start?" I asked, a tinge of uncertainty in my voice.

"First things first, we need to connect the power cable from the generator to the caravan's electrical input," Chris said, flashing a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, it may seem daunting, but it's actually pretty straightforward. We just need to match the colours of the wires. Red goes with red, black with black, and so on."

As he spoke, Chris deftly sorted through the wires, separating them into neat bundles. His experienced hands moved with practiced precision, effortlessly untangling the web of cables.

"See these connectors here?" Chris pointed to a row of terminals. "They're designed to secure the wires in place. We'll strip the ends of the wires and insert them into the appropriate terminals."

I watched intently as Chris demonstrated, carefully stripping the insulation off the wire ends and inserting them into the terminals. His movements were fluid and confident, a testament to his expertise.

"Now, it's important to ensure a solid connection," Chris explained, his voice steady and measured. "We'll tighten these screws to hold the wires securely. Just tight enough to prevent any loose connections, but not too tight that we damage the wires."

I mirrored Chris's actions, my hands guided by his patient instructions. Together, we meticulously connected each wire, the click of the screws echoing through the air as the connections grew stronger.

"Great job, Kain," Chris praised, his smile widening. "Now that the power cable is connected, let's move on to the control panel inside the caravan."

With renewed confidence, I followed Chris into the caravan, the anticipation of bringing it to life filling the air. We stood before the control panel, a myriad of buttons and switches beckoning to be activated.

"Here's where the magic happens," Chris said, his tone laced with excitement. "This control panel allows you to monitor and control the electrical systems in the caravan. We'll start by flipping the main switch to 'On'."

As I reached for the switch, a surge of anticipation coursed through me. With a flick of my finger, the switch shifted into position, and suddenly, the control panel illuminated, vibrant symbols lighting up the display.

"Now, let's test the lights," Chris suggested, a playful glimmer in his eyes. "Press that button there."

I pressed the button, holding my breath as the room was instantly bathed in warm light. It was a moment of pure delight, the tangible result of our efforts.

A grin broke across my face as I turned to Chris, our eyes meeting in shared satisfaction. "It worked!" I exclaimed, unable to contain my excitement.

Chris chuckled, his laughter echoing through the caravan. "Of course it did. You did a great job, Kain. Connecting the power generator is just the first step to unlocking the full potential of this caravan."

As we continued to explore the control panel, toggling switches and activating various systems, a newfound sense of empowerment washed over me. It was as if we were reclaiming a piece of the world we had left behind, rekindling the spark of ingenuity and adaptability that defined us as humans.

Soon, the caravan hummed with newfound life, a reassuring veil of security descending upon us. As I flicked another switch, illuminating the kitchen with a warm glow, an unabashed grin spread across my face. It was a glimpse of the world I once knew, a reminder of the significance and power of electricity. This generator, fuelled by solar energy harnessed from the relentless sun of this barren landscape, became a beacon of hope, a promise that even in this desolate realm, remnants of the life I had left behind could be reclaimed. And in that moment, I silently vowed to never take for granted the luxuries and vitality that power bestowed upon us. Nor such life that I used to know.

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