There were small bushes and tall grasses here and there near the river bank, and I kept to them as much as I could. I had been traveling for hours, and aside from the colt, I had yet to encounter another living person. That could be a good thing, as I'd also not figured out who was trying to kill who in the conflict that we found ourselves surrounded by. There was also still no clear way to cross the river safely, even though I hoped by now we could have found a boat, bridge, or perhaps a shallow area. There were few more bodies seen in the river, including several that had washed up on the opposite bank, and one pony that had washed up on our side. I did my best to give the body as much space as I could when I passed it, after having made sure there was no saddlebags to search.

For the first time in hours I spotted a house, and this one wasn't in flames or a complete ruin. I huddled near a bush, with the colt and his basket kept low. He had been largely quiet through the journey, only engaging in small amounts of baby babble here and there as we went. I knew that couldn't last, as he was bound to be getting hungry, and a hungry baby tended to get very vocal about its needs. Just because I hadn't spotted anyone as of yet didn't mean there weren't potentially people within earshot, and there was no telling if they would attack if they found us. Traveling on foot across unpaved areas, while carrying him, was also wearing down on my energy. We both needed food, and this house presented the first chance at finding some.

I watched it for several minutes, straining my eyes and ears for any sounds of activity. It was dead quiet. I didn't see any vehicles, or signs of livestock. A dirt road curved away from the house towards a wooded area. It looked like a place that should have had some sort of livestock, since it had a fenced area that looked like it was used for a small scale grazing. There was a garden area, with a variety of things growing in it, but I couldn't tell at a distance exactly what. The house looked to be some sort of adobe brick that had been whitewashed. The door was ragged, and had large enough chunks of it missing near the edges that rodents could easily get into the house. The windows slightly crooked squares, that didn't seem to have any glass, and had sheets of fabric hung up inside to cover them. There was a chimney that showed no smoke, despite the fact the temperature seemed to be dropping quickly as evening approached. There were no tools laying about, but there was a small shack nearby that had the door wide open, and appeared to be empty from where I sat.

It seemed abandoned, and I was going to risk trying to go in and try to scavenge for what I could. It didn't have a look of long neglect, which meant that its former occupants may have just recently left in a hurry, and in that hurry they may have left something of use. Even that fabric that covered the windows might be of use for making a shelter or covering up through the night. I had a feeling that the nights would get very cold here. There was a small temptation to just try to take shelter in the house for the night, but the house would be a magnet for others to investigate, and I didn't want to meet whoever else was out here just yet.

I grabbed the handle of the colt's basket. I was going to have to give him a name at some point. I couldn't just keep calling him the colt, but I could figure that out later. I didn't want to leave him unattended, and his basket also served as my primary place that I could put anything I found. He might not enjoy sharing his space, but he'd have to live with it. Perhaps I could make a rough sack to sling over my shoulder if I found enough items.

My attention turned to the colt, who looked back up at me in interest. "You just keep being good, and not crying. I'm going to try to find us some food, and something to help keep us warm at night. Just don't cry, okay?"

The colt babbled and blew bubbles with his spit. I reached down and wiped his mouth with the dirty wool blanket that he was wrapped in. That elicited a small giggle from him. I had to admit, he was calm for a baby, and seemed to have decided I was a friend. I'd name him later tonight. We just had to make it through our first day together.

I moved as silently as I could towards the house, still listening carefully for any sounds of activity. I kept darting my eyes left and right, on edge that someone would suddenly step out into the open. It wasn't even completely fear that it would be some hostile soldier responsible for the death and destruction that pervaded the area. I had the intent of looting, which was a crime, and despite how unlikely it was, some part of my brain insisted that the house's owners were going to come walking up and catch me attempting to burglarize their home. Perhaps it was a sign that whoever I was I had a conscious. Trying to save the colt might be a sign of that, but it took someone truly vile to abandon a baby to die.

When I reached the door I paused and listened again for any signs of life in the house. I was sure that whoever lived here must have fled, but I couldn't be certain. After a long few seconds debating it with myself, I decided to do something that might be stupid, I gently knocked on the door.

"Hello? Anyone here? I'm just looking for food. I don't know where I am or what's going on."

No answer came, and I took that as the house really was abandoned. I didn't see anything resembling a lock on the door, so I pushed it open, and crept inside, closing the door behind me.

The house seemed to be one big room, sectioned off into small areas by large sheets of fabric that gave little areas of privacy. Light flustered in through the fabric covering the windows, and it was bright inside despite the coverings. The floors were dirt that had been packed and beaten down, and there weren't any signs of electrical items. A few wool rugs were placed about, and I wouldn't be surprised if they doubled as beds in some cases, since I saw no mattresses anywhere. There was a large table, which seemed to like it might serve as a work area, dinner prep area, and eating area all in one. A five chairs that were clearly fashioned for humans surrounded the table. A fireplace took up a large portion of one wall, and a few shelves held assorted items and jars. On the table there appeared the be the remains of some still in progress woodworking, along with a large sheet of paper that might be a newspaper.

I immediately went over to investigate the paper, eager for any answers about where I was or what was going on. When I got a closer look I lost hope in that. It was all print, without any pictures of any kind. It was divided on either side into two sections of print, but neither side was intelligible to me. The left side looked like it was written in Russian script, at least I was pretty sure it was Russian. The other side was written in a completely different script, perhaps Arabic or some Turkish script, but neither side was anything I could read. I didn't see anything resembling a date anywhere. I supposed that it still gave possible clues about where I was, and racked my brain for where these two scripts might be commonly used together. Perhaps one of the various 'stans' of central Asia. I tried to think of anything I knew about them, but came up empty. It seemed I had some education that I could draw upon, despite my lack of memory, but that education had its limits.

The shelves were the next thing I checked. There was some light dust on the shelving, and I could tell that many items had been removed very recently, based on their outlines which showed lesser amounts of dust within. Mostly jars had been taken, although the impressions of what looked like a knife and a hammer had also been left behind, in addition to a few other impressions I couldn't decipher. The remaining items seemed to be leather straps, some brushes, and closed jars. I opened up one of the jars and sniffed, before resealing it. Whatever that was, it wasn't food. I checked the other jars and found similar results, with at least two jars I was sure were filled with paint. I guessed that this was where they kept supplied they used for crafting, and they had taken the essentials with them when they fled. I did find a few candles, and a box of matches that had been shoved into the corner of one shelf, which may have led to it being overlooked. I took the candles and the matches and placed them on the table. I would gather everything that might be of use there, and make my decisions on what I could afford to carry when I was done.

I checked each of the areas that were sectioned off for privacy. One area had some simple wooden toys within; wooden cars, ponies, and people. There were some loose clothing in that area that would fit a child, and seemed to be for a boy. The next area had not much in terms of non-essential items, but did have some more loose clothing, this time more suited for a girl. The final area had a small chest of drawers, and investigation of them just found more clothes, some combs, a hairbrush, some rags, and a pair of scissors. A few articles of clothing seemed to be American made, since they advertised American products like Pepsi Cola, but they seemed quite old and ragged. I took the scissors and placed them on the table.

My investigation hadn't turned up as much as I would have liked. The candles, matches, and scissors would probably be useful, and I grab one of those large wool rugs to carry things in and cover up with at night, but I was hoping for food. Food had probably been one of the items that the former occupants had been most keen on bringing with them when they left.

I sighed, and turned to go pick out a rug to make use of, but went stiff as stone when I saw a doll sitting right in the middle of one of them. It was the exact same doll from earlier, I was sure of it. There was no way that an exact match for something so old and raggedy would just turn up here. Even more, I had already checked out that area, and the doll hadn't been there a moment before.

I looked around the room. The door was still closed, and I was sure I would have noticed anyone entering it. None of the coverings for the windows seemed to have been disturbed. Yet someone had brought the doll in and set it down in here while I was checking the place out. I saw no shadow outlines in behind any of the privacy areas. This didn't put me at ease, it only increased my tension. I put the basket down on the table, and walked over towards the doll.

It was definitely the same doll. It had those same button eyes, the same single string for a mouth, it wore the same dirty dress, and it looked like it might be well over a hundred years old based on the wear and fading. I cautiously reached down and picked it up. It was no hallucination, it was solid to the touch. I turned it over in my hands, and in the back of the doll I saw a single word written out in Devanagari script in faded black paint, Chaaya.

There was nothing else of note about the doll. I flipped it over several times in my hands, and carefully squeezed it to feel if there was anything hidden inside, but there was nothing. I absently took a step forward, right onto the spot the doll had been laying, and I heard the creak of wood rather than the hard packed dirt from everywhere else. I also heard a muffled gasp from below me.

The house was still occupied.

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