They broke camp just after sunrise.
The desert morning was cold enough that their breath hung in the air while the horses were saddled and the wagons loaded.
Magni stamped his boots once before climbing onto the wagon seat.
"Desert nights still surprise me," he muttered.
Thor stretched his arms above his head.
"Better than freezing."
Oscar swung himself into the driver's bench of the lead wagon.
"Give it a few hours," he said. "You'll be begging for shade."
Freya smiled faintly as the first light spilled across the mesas.
The land around them was already shifting color — pale gold rock catching the rising sun while long shadows stretched across the wash.
They moved out quietly.
For the first hour the trail followed the dry riverbed south until it met the cracked remains of an old highway.
Oscar tapped the steering wheel as the wagon rolled onto the pavement.
"This used to be Interstate 40," he said.
Thor glanced around.
"Used to?"
Oscar pointed ahead.
"Still is, mostly."
The highway stretched westward across the desert like a faded scar.
Sections had collapsed during the Shroud winter. Other stretches were buried under windblown sand or broken by frost heaves.
But it was still easier than crossing the mountains directly.
Freya rode beside Shane as the convoy settled into a steady pace.
"You're still taking the long route."
Shane nodded.
"Safer."
Magni looked back from the wagon.
"Wouldn't it be shorter to head straight south?"
Oscar answered before Shane could.
"On a map, yeah."
He pointed toward the distant mountains.
"In reality, that direction is a nightmare."
Sif followed his gesture.
"Why?"
Oscar chuckled.
"Canyons. Bad roads. Old mining trails. Half of them collapsed years ago."
Thor frowned.
"So instead we go west first."
Shane nodded.
"We use the highway."
He tapped the cracked pavement beneath the wagon wheels.
"Even damaged highways are easier than mountain trails."
Freya finished the explanation.
"Then Phoenix."
"Yes," Shane said.
"From there we head east again."
Magni leaned back.
"Toward Globe."
Oscar nodded.
"Globe sits in mining country."
"Mountains, reservoirs, old research infrastructure."
Thor scratched his beard.
"And that's where the tribal reports came from."
Freya nodded.
"Northeast of Globe."
Sif looked thoughtful.
"So we go west…"
"…then south…"
"…then east again."
Oscar grinned.
"Welcome to post-Shroud navigation."
The convoy rolled steadily across the desert.
The farther south they traveled, the rougher the land became.
Low mesas turned into ridges.
Dry washes cut deeper into the red earth.
By midday they began seeing signs of the refugee movement the earthquake had triggered.
The first wagon appeared on the horizon shortly after noon.
A family.
Two adults and three children.
Their wagon was overloaded with blankets, tools, and crates tied down with rope.
Oscar slowed the convoy.
"Morning," he called.
The man driving the wagon raised a hand cautiously.
"Morning."
Shane stepped down beside the road.
"You coming from the coast?"
The man nodded grimly.
"California."
Thor exchanged a glance with Freya.
"How bad?" Freya asked gently.
The man shook his head slowly.
"Cities are gone."
"Bridges too."
"Roads broken everywhere."
His wife looked exhausted as she held the youngest child in her lap.
"The ocean came inland," she said quietly.
"Whole towns just… disappeared."
The wind moved through the brush beside the road.
For a moment no one spoke.
Shane finally nodded.
"Head east."
"There's food corridors through Oklahoma and the plains."
The man's expression softened slightly.
"Thank you."
They passed slowly and continued south.
By late afternoon the land began changing again.
The desert deepened.
Cactus appeared along the rocky slopes while distant mountains rose like jagged walls along the horizon.
Oscar pointed ahead.
"Phoenix is about a day out."
Thor looked toward the mountains beyond.
"And Globe?"
"Another day east."
Freya studied the terrain carefully.
"This is where the reservoirs start."
Shane nodded.
"And where the tribal lands begin."
The sun dropped lower as the convoy continued along the broken highway.
Evening shadows stretched across the desert floor.
Then Thor suddenly sat forward.
"Someone ahead."
A small cluster of riders appeared on the road ahead.
Four horses.
All armed.
Freya recognized the markings first.
"Tribal patrol."
The riders approached slowly.
One of them raised a hand in greeting.
Oscar stopped the wagons.
The lead rider studied the group carefully before speaking.
"You're heading east."
Shane nodded.
"Toward Globe."
The rider exchanged a glance with the others.
"That's where the water is wrong."
The desert wind moved across the highway again.
Shane stepped forward slightly.
"Tell me."
The rider pointed toward the mountains beyond the horizon.
"Reservoir north of the town."
"Cattle disappear."
"Something pulls them under."
Thor cracked his knuckles quietly.
"Well," he muttered.
"That sounds familiar."
The rider continued.
"Tracks on the shore."
Freya's eyes narrowed.
"Human tracks?"
The rider nodded slowly.
"Yes."
"But not human."
The lead rider studied them for another moment.
Then his eyes moved to Johnny John.
Recognition flickered there.
He slid off his horse slowly.
"You should come with us," he said.
Johnny John inclined his head slightly.
"That would be wise."
The riders turned their horses and began leading the way east toward the foothills.
The convoy followed.
The road gradually narrowed into a dusty trail that wound between low hills and scattered mesquite trees. As the sun dipped lower, the mountains beyond Globe turned deep red beneath the fading light.
After another hour they began seeing structures.
Small houses.
Wood and stone.
Gardens carved carefully into the dry ground.
Solar panels angled toward the last sunlight.
Children paused in their work to watch the wagons roll past.
Dogs barked from behind fences.
The settlement sat along the edge of a narrow valley where a reservoir gleamed faintly between the hills.
The riders led them toward a wide open clearing where several older men and women were already waiting.
Johnny John stepped down from the wagon first.
The elders watched him approach quietly.
For a moment no one spoke.
Then one of the oldest women stepped forward.
"Dagenwida."
Johnny John bowed his head slightly.
"It has been some time."
The woman smiled faintly.
"You return when the water grows angry."
Johnny John glanced toward the dark reservoir.
"Yes."
Shane stepped forward beside him but allowed Johnny John to speak first.
The elders watched carefully.
Freya, Thor, and the others remained respectfully back near the wagons.
The woman gestured toward a circle of wooden benches near the fire pit.
"Sit."
"We will speak."
⸻
The fire burned low as the elders began explaining.
At first the conversation moved slowly.
Carefully.
Johnny John listened more than he spoke.
Finally one of the men leaned forward.
"The water began changing three weeks ago."
Shane glanced toward the reservoir.
"How?"
"Fish dying."
"Then cattle disappearing."
He gestured toward the hills.
"Ranchers bring animals to drink."
"Some never come back."
Thor frowned.
"Dragged under?"
The elder nodded.
"Yes."
Sif spoke quietly.
"And the tracks?"
The woman pointed toward the water.
"We found them on the shore."
"Bare feet."
"Too large."
Freya crossed her arms.
"Human shaped."
"But wrong."
The elders nodded.
Johnny John finally spoke.
"You saw one."
The group fell silent.
Another elder answered.
"Yes."
His voice remained calm but the memory was clear in his eyes.
"It rose from the water."
Thor leaned forward slightly.
"What did it look like?"
The man held his hands apart.
"Large."
"Gray skin."
"Eyes like fish."
He hesitated.
"And whiskers."
Thor exchanged a glance with Shane.
"Catfish," Thor muttered quietly.
Freya nodded grimly.
"Same description Roberts gave."
Shane studied the elders.
"How many?"
The man shook his head.
"We do not know."
"We only see the water move."
The fire crackled softly.
Johnny John looked around the circle.
"You did well to warn the nearby towns."
The woman nodded.
"But another storm comes."
Shane tilted his head slightly.
"You mean the earthquake."
"Yes."
One of the elders gestured west.
"Travelers already arrive from California."
Freya nodded slowly.
"That will increase."
Johnny John looked toward Shane.
"The flow will move through this region."
Oscar sighed.
"That's a lot of people."
The elder woman nodded.
"And little water."
For a moment the group sat quietly.
Then Shane stood.
"Show me the valley."
⸻
They walked together to a ridge overlooking the settlement.
The valley spread below them beneath the moonlight.
Small farms.
Water channels.
Homes built along the hillsides.
Beyond them the reservoir glimmered dark and still.
Johnny John folded his arms.
"This place can hold more people."
Shane nodded slowly.
"But not safely."
Freya watched him carefully.
"You're thinking about the plains again."
"Yes."
He stepped forward and pressed his hand against the earth.
For a moment nothing happened.
Then the ground shifted.
Softly.
The soil along the valley edge rose gradually into long natural ridges.
Water channels deepened.
Low earthen berms formed natural barriers along the reservoir approach.
Thor whistled quietly.
"Still not used to that."
Oscar stared across the valley.
"You just built defensive terrain."
Shane shrugged slightly.
"Mostly water control."
Johnny John smiled faintly.
"And refugee lanes."
Shane nodded.
"People moving east will need somewhere to stop."
Freya watched the new ridges forming along the valley floor.
"You're building a settlement."
"Yes."
The elder woman stepped forward beside him.
"You shape the land like the old stories."
Shane looked toward the reservoir again.
"Hopefully we won't need the defenses."
Thor followed his gaze.
"But if those things come out of the water…"
Magni cracked his knuckles.
"…we'll be ready."
Below them the newly shaped valley settled quietly beneath the stars.
But out on the reservoir—
the dark water shifted again.
Slow.
Deep.
Something moved beneath the surface.
And it was getting closer to the shore.
⸻
"If you enjoyed Shane's journey, please drop a Power Stone! It helps the Common Sense Party grow."