A Home Among Strangers

"So, I guess..." Emma began, looking a little awkward, "I owe you an apology."

They were sitting side by side on a stack of sturdy supply containers, the metal cool against their legs.

"I went a bit too far on someone who's never even held a sword," Emma admitted, glancing at him. "I'm sorry."

Julian rubbed his ribs slightly — they still pulsed a little from her earlier hit.

"Yeah... well, thanks, I guess," he said with a small smile.

"It was a good wake-up call, anyway."

He exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of reality settling in.

"I was never really into sports or anything like that,"

Julian added.

"But I'll try hard. At least enough to not be a burden on everyone else."

He hesitated for a second, then asked, "How about some lessons? Think you could teach me how to actually defend myself? I doubt anyone else has the time — or patience."

Emma smiled a little, watching him rub his ribs again.

"Also," Julian added, wincing dramatically, "maybe be a bit more gentle next time you call me over?"

Emma laughed.

"Oh, come on," she said. "You can't even take that much?"

Her smile faded slightly as she pointed across the enclave.

"Imagine what'll happen when you meet a real triceratops out there. Ten meters long. Three meters tall. Nine tons of pure mass."

Julian followed her gaze, swallowing hard as she continued.

"They could break through this camp without even trying. I've heard of enclaves being wiped out just for stealing an infant triceratops."

She tapped her boot against the container they sat on.

"And that's not even the worst."

Emma pointed toward a battered section of the wooden wall surrounding the camp.

"You see that?" she said.

Julian squinted, noticing deep gouges and blackened scorch marks.

"Rex did that. Four years ago," Emma said quietly.

"I was just a runt back then. I saw it tear through the wall like it was paper. We lost three people before my father finally drove it off — he had to hit it with a launcher and burn half its chest just to make it retreat."

Julian listened, the weight of her words sinking in deeper than any lecture ever could.

"There's no safe place here," Emma said.

"Never forget that."

She turned back to him, her green eyes hard.

"Train. Get strong. Always plan ahead. Be ready for anything."

For a long moment, neither of them said anything.

Only the distant sounds of the camp — laughter, hammering, the soft whimper of Dire Wolf pups — filled the silence between them.

Then Emma's expression softened again.

"But enough about that," she said, her voice lighter.

"What I really want to know is about you."

She leaned back slightly, resting her arms behind her. "Your story. How was your world?"

Julian blinked, surprised by the shift.

"You see,"

Emma continued, looking up at the sky.

"I was born here. I only know this life — hunting, training, surviving."

She smiled faintly, though sadness tinged her words.

"Seeing more than forty people at once was probably the most I'll ever see in my lifetime."

She turned back toward him, her eyes quietly hopeful. "Tell me about your world."

"Well… what can I say?" Julian said, scratching the back of his head.

"I was about to head back home after finishing my second semester of college. It was in another country... Anyway, I had some problems and was actually wondering whether to continue studying abroad or stay home and start over. Just as I was going back, my plane crashed and, well, you know the rest…" He cleared his throat, feeling a little embarrassed talking about quitting school like it was something normal.

"College?" Emma tilted her head, curious.

"Is that the place where young people go to learn?"

Julian gave a small nod.

"I've only seen four like me during our time travels,"

Emma continued.

"I mean, my age when I was young. For some reason, the only ones that get dragged here are older than twenty. Rarely do underaged youths or kids come, like something about being a grown-up makes you fall into a timeslip. I think that's why my father wasn't dragged with my mom; he was the one holding onto me at the time."

Without warning, Emma stood up and brushed off the dirt from her pants.

"Wait here," she said quickly before running off.

Julian blinked, a little confused, then shrugged. With nothing better to do, he leaned back against the containers, using them like a makeshift bed.

The hard surface wasn't exactly comfortable, but after the day he'd had, it didn't really matter.

A few minutes later, he heard footsteps.

Emma returned, holding two small cups in her hands, with a red liquid sloshing inside them.

"What's this?" Julian asked, sitting up as she approached.

"This…" Emma said, grinning mischievously, "is wine. It's from my private stash, so make sure you savor it. I think it's from the year 2071."

She poured some of the wine carefully into two makeshift metal cups.

"Don't worry, it's still fresh," Emma added, taking a small sip. "The person who sold it to me arrived here two years after I did."

She looked around the camp, watching the others beginning to settle down. The sky was already dimming, and curfew would start soon.

"What about Earth during your time?" Emma asked, handing Julian one of the cups.

"How was it?"

Julian took a cautious sip — the wine was surprisingly smooth — and leaned back again, thinking about how to explain everything.

He began recounting events from his time: the pandemic that reshaped the world, the rapid rise of AI, the good and bad that came with it.

His words tumbled out, sometimes messy, sometimes nostalgic.

Emma listened closely, her green eyes wide with fascination, occasionally asking small questions or laughing softly at things she had never imagined.

It was only when the loud clang of the enclave's bell echoed across the camp that they realized how much time had passed.

Curfew had begun.

"Seems that's all we can talk about for today," Emma said, stretching slightly as she stood up.

"Do you know where you're going to stay?"

Julian blinked, realizing he hadn't thought about that at all.

"Not really... I forgot to ask whoever is in charge of lodging," he admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"Don't worry," Emma said, giving him a small smile.

"My father usually handles that. I know of three places you could use. Just make sure you listen well — they're a bit far, and you'll need to hurry."

She quickly listed the three options before hopping off the container and heading toward her own home.

Julian stayed seated for a moment, thinking over his choices.

The first option was a small metal container — an old shipping crate repurposed into a shelter.

Basic, but sturdy enough.

The second was an underground dwelling, built out of wood with two thick metal doors to protect whoever lived there. Safe, but probably damp and dark.

The last option was the second floor of a tower — a real building, located directly beneath Emma's own home.

It sounded like the most comfortable choice... but there was a catch.

Rent.

Harris charged a fee for the tower rooms. Since he had personally built it with comfort in mind — better insulation, stronger defenses — it wasn't free like the other shelters.

"Well, she did say I could earn money later to pay..." Julian muttered to himself, already feeling his decision solidifying.

He stood up quickly and began rushing toward the center of the enclave, where the tower loomed above the smaller structures.

Despite the cost, he had made up his mind.

Being closer to Emma definitely played a role in that decision... even if it meant he would have to work extra hard to afford it.