Boise City woke early.
The town had become a crossroads over the past few months. Wagons creaked along the dirt streets before sunrise while farmers loaded grain sacks and water barrels onto the westbound caravan.
Oscar stood beside a wagon checking the harness straps on one of the horses.
"Road's gonna be rough past the Panhandle," he said. "Bridge outside Dalhart took some damage during the shaking yesterday."
Thor lifted two heavy crates onto the wagon bed as if they weighed nothing.
"Earth still moving?"
Oscar nodded.
"Couple aftershocks during the night."
Shane stepped into the street, watching the town stir awake.
Children ran between buildings while a group of farmers pushed open the doors of a small grain store. The smell of fresh bread drifted from a nearby kitchen.
It still surprised him sometimes how quickly places came back to life.
Six months ago most of the country had been fighting just to survive the winter.
Now towns were planting fields again.
Building barns.
Repairing roads.
The world wasn't dead.
It was reorganizing.
Freya walked up beside him.
"You're thinking again."
Shane smirked slightly.
"Dangerous habit."
She followed his gaze across the small town.
"You helped start this."
"I didn't do it alone."
"No," she said quietly. "But you lit the first fire."
Shane leaned against the wagon rail.
"You ever notice something strange about humans?"
Freya raised an eyebrow.
"That's a dangerous question."
"We rebuild faster than we collapse."
Freya watched a group of farmers unloading lumber near the road.
"That depends on the collapse."
"True."
"But even after the Shroud… after the Dome… people still planted fields."
Freya nodded slowly.
"They always do."
"Why?"
Freya thought about that for a moment.
"Because hope is easier to grow than fear."
Shane chuckled.
"You're getting philosophical."
"I spend time around gods and builders," she replied. "It happens."
Johnny John approached from the far end of the street.
"The caravan is ready."
Oscar climbed up into the driver's seat of the lead wagon.
"Then let's get moving."
⸻
They left Boise City shortly after sunrise.
The road west stretched across open prairie beneath a pale blue sky. Wheat fields and cattle pastures slowly gave way to dry grassland as the caravan moved toward the Texas Panhandle.
For the first hour the ride felt peaceful.
The wagon wheels creaked steadily while wind moved through the tall grass.
Thor walked beside the wagon for a while before glancing at the road ahead.
"You know what I miss?"
Sif glanced over.
"Indoor plumbing?"
Thor ignored that.
"Good taverns."
Sif smiled slightly.
"You destroyed most of the good taverns in Norway."
"They started it."
"They served you three barrels of mead."
Thor crossed his arms.
"And then refused to serve the fourth."
"That was after you lifted the roof off the building."
Thor shrugged.
"Minor structural disagreement."
Sif shook her head.
"You are the only person I know who can start a bar fight with architecture."
Thor grinned.
"That roof had it coming."
Magni laughed quietly from horseback behind them.
⸻
They began seeing the damage by midmorning.
The first cracked highway appeared just west of town.
The asphalt had split open along a jagged line stretching across the road.
The wagon rolled slowly around the damage.
Thor crouched beside the break, examining it.
"That quake did this?"
Johnny John nodded.
"Shockwaves travel enormous distances through bedrock."
"How far?" Thor asked.
Johnny John answered calmly.
"Thousands of miles."
Shane studied the cracked ground.
"All that energy just moving through the planet."
Johnny John nodded.
"The Cascadia rupture released more energy than most earthquakes in modern history."
Oscar climbed back into the wagon.
"Well, let's hope it got it out of its system."
Johnny John did not answer.
⸻
They saw the first refugee caravan near midday.
A line of battered trucks and wagons crept slowly east along the highway. Blankets covered the beds of pickup trucks while families walked beside them carrying bags and water containers.
Oscar slowed the wagon.
One of the refugees stepped forward cautiously.
"You folks heading west?" the man asked.
"Yeah," Oscar replied.
The man shook his head.
"Road's bad out there."
"What happened?" Shane asked.
The man exhaled slowly.
"Ground dropped along the coast. Whole neighborhoods flooded."
Another refugee spoke up from behind him.
"Freeways collapsed outside San Diego."
"Bridges too," someone else added.
Freya studied their faces.
They looked exhausted.
Dust covered their clothes and several of the children clung tightly to their parents.
"How far have you traveled?" she asked.
"Two days," the man said.
"Trying to reach family in Kansas."
Oscar nodded toward a water barrel on the wagon.
"Fill your containers."
The refugees hesitated.
Shane gestured calmly.
"Go ahead."
Several stepped forward quickly, filling bottles and canteens.
A woman carrying a toddler stopped beside the wagon.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
Shane nodded.
"Safe roads."
As the refugees continued east, Thor watched them disappear down the road.
"That quake did more damage than we thought."
Oscar sighed.
"Yeah."
Then he looked at Shane.
"You realize what this means, right?"
"Refugees."
"Lots of them."
Shane nodded.
"Which means more towns like Boise City."
Oscar scratched his beard.
"You're talking about expanding the corridor."
"Exactly."
Oscar looked west.
"Then we'd better keep the roads safe."
⸻
By late afternoon the land had begun to change.
The green plains faded behind them as rocky hills and red soil replaced the grasslands. Mesas rose in the distance while scrub brush dotted the dry ground.
Arizona was close now.
Johnny John stopped walking.
Shane noticed immediately.
"What is it?"
Johnny John stood very still.
Then he spoke quietly.
"Sigurd's thread is gone."
Freya turned sharply.
"What?"
Shane frowned.
"Gone how?"
Johnny John looked west.
"Not severed."
"Returned."
Thor understood first.
"He died."
Johnny John nodded once.
"Yes."
Silence settled over the group.
Freya crossed her arms.
"The Volsung cycle begins again."
Magni spoke quietly from horseback.
"Ragnarok pieces moving."
Shane stared toward the mountains.
"AN probably thinks that helps him."
Johnny John's voice remained calm.
"Fate does not break easily."
Shane nodded slowly.
"No."
"It pushes back."
⸻
They made camp beside a dry wash just before nightfall.
The desert cooled quickly after sunset.
Oscar built a small fire while Thor gathered wood.
Freya sat on a flat stone watching the stars appear overhead.
Shane joined her.
"You ever get tired of destiny conversations?"
Freya laughed softly.
"Constantly."
"Same."
She looked at him sideways.
"But you keep stepping into them."
"Somebody has to."
Freya studied the firelight dancing across the desert sand.
"You're building something strange, you know."
"What do you mean?"
"Civilization without kings."
Shane shrugged.
"Kings cause problems."
Freya smiled.
"That is a very Norse opinion."
⸻
They broke camp early the next morning.
Reservoir lakes appeared between ridges of red stone and dry forest as they continued west.
Oscar pointed toward one of them as the wagon rolled down a slope.
"That one feeds irrigation south of Globe."
Shane studied the water carefully.
The surface looked calm.
But something about it felt wrong.
Freya felt it too.
"The water," she said quietly.
"Yes," Shane replied.
Johnny John watched the shoreline silently.
Wind moved slowly across the reservoir.
Ripples spread across the surface.
But the movement didn't look natural.
Shane narrowed his eyes.
"We'll stop near the tribal lands before Globe."
Oscar nodded.
"Good idea."
Freya continued watching the reservoir as they passed.
And far beneath the dark water—
something large turned slowly in the depths.
Waiting.
⸻
"If you enjoyed Shane's journey, please drop a Power Stone! It helps the Common Sense Party grow."