Stepping onto the road, Rowan noticed that it was barely different from the ground they had already been walking on. Weeds and roots had torn through the bitumen, with cracks appearing all over the black surface.
They stood between ruined houses, long destroyed structures that couldn't be discerned, with the destroyed city now behind them. They spared one last glance at Kilkenny before they continued on, though Aoife turned to look at Kilkenny one final time.
The screams still rang in Rowan's ears, but he slapped himself across the face, trying to focus on their surroundings instead. It wouldn't be a simple matter, even with them avoiding the city. They moved at a steady pace, and Rowan followed at the back of the group once more. Aoife stood at the front, leading the way along the road.
Walking at the back of the group, Rowan occasionally surveyed the area around him, a sense of unease in his stomach. They were walking alongside what appeared to be farmland, faint scraps of a fence still visible despite the damage done to it by the beasts.
There were no animals in the farm, the defenceless livestock likely devoured by a beast from a Hell, or by a hungry traveller. Rowan wondered if this was where his parents were from, before they fled with the masses to Cork.
His sister had been nine when they had arrived in Cork, him being three. He didn't remember much from that time, but it was before the wall had been built. Rowan and his family were refugees, fleeing from somewhere overrun by beasts, Hells or both.
Fiona had told him at some point where he was from, but at such a young age it hadn't mattered to him. And it didn't matter much more now. His home was Cork, anything else was simply too dangerous.
A prickly feeling raised the hairs on Rowan's neck, and he whirled around, searching for what it was that had sparked the feeling, but nothing could be seen around them. The sun was nearing dusk, and thus was behind Rowan, lighting all that could be behind them, yet he still didn't see anything that could have caused that feeling.
Trying to walk backwards was proving harder than he thought, so Rowan turned back around, throwing a few furtive glances over his shoulder to reassure himself. If there even was anything, it was hiding, and that meant it couldn't be all that strong.
Returning to face the southwest, Rowan saw something peculiar to the right of the road they followed. A Hell floated a meter off the ground, hanging in the air weightlessly. Nadia and Aoife were eyeing it too, though they continued past it without pausing.
But something seemed different about this one. For starters, it wasn't moving. The ones they had entered in the induction had been pulsating, even slightly. This one simply hung in the air, as though it were frozen.
The second thing Rowan noticed was a strange streak of lightness that seemed to illuminate it. Rather than staring into nothing, there was a strange substance inside of it, instead of a pure void, there was actually something.
"It isn't moving? I thought Hells were supposed to move around and stuff, aren't they?"
Rowan posed the question as they passed it, keeping an eye on it in case a beast chose that particular time.
"I'm not sure. This is one of the things our parents never told us, at least, one of the things they never told me. We'll just avoid it for now, and keep an eye on it behind us."
Aoife's suggestion was reasonable, especially that part about keeping an eye on it. If this Hell decided to start moving, they could find themselves inside another with hardly a day's break from their first.Not even mentioning whatever could be different about it, or what tier it was. Luckily, it didn't give chase or move, and a beast never emerged from it.
So they continued on, with the sun continuing to set ahead of them. Eventually, the sun met the horizon and Aoife motioned for them to stop.
"We should find a place to rest for the night. We'll keep watch in three-hour increments, and make sure we keep an eye out for that Hell."
"There's a house up ahead, we can use that one."
Following Nadia's finger, Rowan saw the house she was pointing to. It was half hidden behind shrubbery, though it stood out amongst the fields that surrounded it on either side of the road. It was only a kilometre away, so it made for the perfect place for them to stop, without risking themselves out in the open at night. The house was in relatively good condition. The fence that had obviously once stood around it was torn to shreds, and the shed nearby was crushed, but the house lay relatively unmarred, aside from a few scratches next to the front door.
Three and a half cross marks, obviously left by a sword or some kind of tool, which Aoife was examining.
"Either there's still a group in here, or this place isn't safe."
Not elaborating further, she knocked on the door with medium intensity. Not enough that the sound could be heard all around, but just enough so that whoever was inside would be able to hear from a few rooms over.
Rowan, meanwhile, was confused. He figured that the cross marks likely meant people coming and going, but for her to know that was impressive.
'It must be a tradition for people who go out beyond the wall to mark where they stay. One line for going in, one for coming out.'
It wasn't long before Rowan heard the sounds of movement behind the door, and it opened a crack, just big enough for an eye to peek through.
Inside was a boy who seemed to be about their age, with a similar stick-like body someone from the complex would have. There seemed to be an intense tiredness in his face, which faded slightly at seeing more people.
"My name's Ben. I'm part of a group of two, but she's kind of injured right now."
The timid boy's eyes darted as he spoke, flashing to the left where she likely was.