The Long Road

Please note: This story is a continuous, multi-chapter narrative. You can find the correct order in the right sidebar. All texts were originally written in German and translated into English using AI. I asked the AI to preserve the original stylistic flair wherever possible.   This small morning scene had created and resolved tensions. For the three fugitives, it was a moment of humanity—something they desperately needed on their shared journey. Even though Ebram struggled with Abby’s blunt and often abrasive manner, she was, in a strange way, a constant—someone you could rely on. Bernard, on the other hand, stirred more confusion in Ebram than he could comprehend—and above all, Ebram still refused to admit that he might have a preference for men. In his mind, this exceptional situation justified an exception to his sexual orientation. Extraordinary times called for extraordinary friendships.
Abby had sat up and pulled a small gas stove with a cartridge from her backpack. An iron kettle was filled with water and a tea bag, and soon the scent of tea filled the little resting place. Bernard took three thin slices from a tin of bread and handed them out. Alongside came a greasy spreadable sausage and a pinch of dried parsley from a pouch Abby carried. The large foreman devoured his bread in no time and looked around. “Don’t you find it strange that the forest isn’t trying to stop us?”
Abby looked around as well. “Yeah, kind of. But maybe that thing—whatever it is—can’t be everywhere?”
“It doesn’t have to be everywhere. It could focus on us. So why aren’t we being stopped?”
Clearing his throat, Ebram spoke up. “Because we’re heading in the direction it wants us to go, I suppose.”
“Yes, I think so too,” Bernard agreed, adding, “Maybe it’s better if we turn back and don’t follow the thing’s will.”
Abby shook her head firmly. “Then it’ll impale us—like that worker who tried to flee. I don’t know what’s waiting for us ahead, but I know what’s behind us—and I’ll pass on that. I’ll go on alone if I have to, just so we’re clear.”
  Ebram studied the young woman discreetly, wondering where she got her unwavering courage. His gaze drifted to the large man on the other side, who nodded in agreement with Abby and slowly sipped from his tea. “You’re probably right, Abby. But what if what’s ahead is worse?”
Abby jumped up. “Bernard, you know I’m not going back!” She began pouring out the rest of the tea and flung the tea bag somewhere into the trees. Ebram looked questioningly at the foreman, who mouthed silently: “Long story.”
Raising an eyebrow, Ebram watched Abby’s efforts to pack quickly. She balled up her blanket and sleeping bag, but they wouldn’t fit into the backpack that way. “Are you two going to get moving, or do I have to push you?” she snapped at the two men.     Bernard stood and took Abby’s blanket and sleeping bag from her. She tugged at them stubbornly for a moment, then let her head drop. The foreman placed a hand on her shoulder, and she simply leaned into him. Naturally, he wrapped his arms around her and comforted her with his presence. Ebram watched the scene with mixed feelings, stood up as well, and considered whether he should place his arms around Abby too. Then he shook his head slightly and began packing his things. He’d ask Bernard later what was going on with the young woman.
As Ebram passed him, Bernard handed over the blanket and sleeping bag, gently eased Abby away, and lifted her chin. With his thumbs, he wiped away the small trail of tears on her cheek. “We’ll find him, Abby,” he said in a soothing, gentle voice. Ebram perked up and listened, but neither of them said more.
After a while, the young woman only sniffled a little, wiped the remaining tears from her face with the heels of her hands, and pressed her lips together with determination. Just as resolute as before, she slung her backpack—now packed by Ebram—over her shoulders and waited patiently, though her eyes were impatient, until the two men were ready. This time she led the way, Bernard in the middle, and Ebram brought up the rear.
She wasn’t moving as fast as the foreman, and this time everyone kept pace. When Abby stepped behind a few trees for a moment to relieve herself, Ebram caught up to Bernard. “Bernard? Who—or what—is Abby actually looking for here?”
The big man thought for a moment, then decided to explain. “Abby’s father was also searching for the city. He never came back. Maybe you’ve heard of him: Prof. Dr. Philipp Martin, an archaeologist.”
Ebram’s eyes widened. “She’s Abigail Martin? The daughter he took on all his excavations? The first female archaeologist at the Universi…” He didn’t finish—Abby reappeared from behind the trees, and he fell silent. Bernard smirked as he noticed Ebram’s gaze, which now rested on Abby with a very different quality.
The young woman clearly noticed the attention she was getting. “Something wrong?” Ebram quickly shook his head and smiled broadly. “All good. Shall we keep going?”
She took the lead again, and Ebram looked up at Bernard intently. He mouthed exaggerated silent words and pointed at Abby’s back. “Why didn’t you say anything?” The big man grinned and shrugged. Rolling his eyes, the doctor fell back behind Bernard and tried to recall what he knew about Prof. Martin. It wasn’t much—he’d read the books but never met the man. History and archaeology were closely related fields, one more practical, the other more theoretical. Neither could exist without the other. Maybe it was fate that Abby was here.     Ebram wasn’t used to walking long distances, and after a little more than three hours, he was gasping with every step. Eventually, he stopped. “Bernard? Break… please!” The foreman stopped as well and passed the request on to Abby. Leaning against a tree, breathing heavily, Ebram closed his eyes for a moment. Then he slowly opened them again as he heard his companions busily preparing for a midday rest.
Bernard looked at him. “Come on, sit down, Ebram. Let’s eat, then we’ll keep going.”
Pushing off the tree, the doctor sat down with the others and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I didn’t… think… it would be… this exhausting,” he said between deep breaths.
The young archaeologist handed him a cup of water. “We’ve been going uphill for a while—just a gentle slope, but you feel it.”
Smiling gratefully, Ebram took the cup. “Yes, you feel it,” he repeated, and glanced back discreetly. Yes, there was a gentle incline—he hadn’t noticed it before.
Then he spotted a shadow far below, hiding behind a tree. Startled, he dropped the cup. Bernard and Abby looked at him with questioning expressions. He gestured subtly with his eyes and a slight tilt of his head, whispering, “I think we’re being followed.”
The two nodded but continued speaking in normal tones: “Yes, we know. But they’re not approaching—just keeping their distance.”
“You knew? Why didn’t you say anything?” Ebram protested.
Bernard shook his head. “To avoid worrying you.”
“I’m not a child who needs to be shielded from the truth!” Ebram’s voice was indignant.
Abby chimed in, teasing Bernard: “See? We should’ve told him right away—he’d have walked faster.” Ebram gasped, and Bernard sharply reprimanded the young woman. “Abby!”
“It’s true! Fear speeds up your stride!”
Ebram looked back and forth between them, not intervening—the exchange was too quick. “Fear also makes you careless.”
“That doesn’t matter if you’re faster than the enemy.”
“If you fall into a pit and the enemy catches up because you weren’t paying attention…”
“Then I was stupid and deserved it!”
“Abby!”
She pouted, and Bernard turned to Ebram, who was stunned by the exchange. “Is that how you see me? You too?” he asked Bernard.
Bernard sighed. “Yes and no. You’ve got poor stamina, you’d get lost out here on your own, and emotionally you’re not at your best—that’s my fault, I know. So yes and no. You’ll keep up better over time, and the rest… well.” He gave a crooked smile. “The rest will probably get worse.”
   
After the break, they continued in silence. Ebram was hurt and stayed at the back of the line. He kept looking over his shoulder, but the shadow was gone. Still, now that he knew they were being followed, he constantly felt watched. A vague fear crept in, and he stayed close behind Bernard—he didn’t want to lose his companions. The hours dragged on, and Ebram noticed that both Abby and Bernard slowed down occasionally so he could catch up and not overexert himself. That quiet care annoyed him, but without it, he would’ve fallen far behind. Everything annoyed him now: the care, his own weakness, his feelings for Bernard, Abby’s revealed secret, his feet, the backpack, the forest, the shadow… the list was endless.

As dusk approached, Abby and Bernard looked for a good campsite. They found a small clearing with enough space for all, but Ebram marched on with a proud expression, determined not to stop yet. Abby was about to call after him, but Bernard’s glance held her back. He followed Ebram and eventually caught up.
“Ebram, what are you doing?” He stepped in front of the doctor.
With a tight-lipped expression, Ebram tried to get past the foreman, but Bernard didn’t budge. “Ebram!”
Ebram stared at him silently, as if he could force him aside with sheer will.
Bernard read the mood correctly, sighed, and shook his head in resignation. “Fine, have it your way.” He stepped aside to let Ebram pass.
Ebram managed maybe five steps before turning around. The tall, broad-shouldered Bernard stood in the same spot, arms crossed, watching him. There was no reproach in his gaze—only attentiveness. They stood facing each other for a while. Ebram’s fear outweighed his pride, which only surfaced when others were around. Those five steps, without Bernard or Abby, showed him how little of his emotional armor remained. Too little. His shoulders slumped, his head dropped to his chest. “I’m the weak link, aren’t I?” he asked quietly.
There was no answer—only an embrace. Strong arms wrapped around him, holding him steady. “Yes, you are,” Bernard replied. “But I accept that.”
  When the two returned, Abby had already set up camp and brewed tea. Ebram stepped onto the clearing first, followed by Bernard, who had placed a hand on his shoulder. The doctor walked over to Abby and sat down across from her. Without any preamble, he spoke: “I’m sorry. I’m a burden to you, and yet you take me with you. I never thanked you for your help. You treated my head wound, you freed me from the camp, and now you drag me along—knowing full well that I slow you down and my nerves are frayed.” He didn’t look up, his head remained bowed.
When Abby didn’t respond, he dared a glance—and was surprised to see that the usually sharp-tongued woman was at a loss for words. It brought a smile to his lips—not out of spite, but because her façade had cracked, and for a moment he could see that her strength was mostly outward. That made things easier.  
They kept no night watch, believing that as long as they moved in the right direction, they wouldn’t be disturbed. Whether that was truly the case, they couldn’t say for sure, but all signs pointed that way—and they needed the rest. Naturally, Bernard placed his sleeping bag right next to Ebram’s. Abby lay opposite them and smirked when she saw the doctor’s nervous movements. She couldn’t resist a comment: “I won’t eavesdrop! Scout’s honor—just watching!”
Which made Ebram’s cheeks flush red again and Bernard laugh. Already in his sleeping bag, Bernard simply pulled Ebram down beside him. “Don’t worry, I won’t pounce on you. Way too uncomfortable here,” he glanced at Abby, “...and too many spectators.” It took a while, but eventually Ebram was able to accept—and even enjoy—falling asleep in Bernard’s arms, with the other man’s weight draped over his hip.     The next few days were marked by routine and exertion. Ebram occasionally caught glimpses of a figure following them, and by now he suspected it wasn’t just one person. Likely half the camp was trailing them. The terrain alternated between ascent and descent in a regular rhythm, leading Abby to suspect artificial hills. Whenever they rested, she scanned the surroundings for clues. Ebram also searched for signs—wall fragments, weathered wooden structures—but they found nothing. Tension between the companions had eased with routine, and even Ebram began to engage in occasional teasing. It was surreal. They were fleeing forward, yet they joked and enjoyed each other’s company.  
On the fifth day of their journey, Abby stumbled upon the first stone traces of a civilization. Just a few carved stones—edges too straight to be natural. They lay scattered across a small area and were nearly missed, covered in moss. Excited, Abby and Ebram circled the stones, carefully scraping away the greenery and trying to discern inscriptions or patterns. On this intellectual level, they worked seamlessly together, tossing around terminology and hypotheses, while Bernard stood nearby, baffled, understanding barely half of what they said.  
They had cleared the stones and asked Bernard to help arrange them side by side. Enthusiastically, they directed the large man back and forth until he finally dropped the stone he was carrying and said: “Play your dominoes without me!” The two researchers didn’t mind—they had finally found something that might point to the city. Abby ran her fingers over one stone and frowned. “I think this might be a pattern or a drawing.”
Ebram came over, intrigued. She traced a line with two fingers that he couldn’t see—then suddenly pulled her hand back. Ebram tilted his head, puzzled. She stuck the two fingers in her mouth and grinned crookedly: “A stone splinter, I think.”
Bernard joined them. “Let me see!” She pouted and showed him the fingers. Bernard examined them thoroughly and frowned. “I don’t see anything.” She checked herself, feeling the sore spot with her tongue. “Strange, I thought I got pricked. Oh well. Must’ve imagined it.”     They moved on, though Abby and Ebram did so reluctantly. At dusk, they set up camp and took stock of their food—it would last another week if rationed. Bernard and Ebram leaned against each other, back to back, enjoying the closeness. Abby, however, was quiet that evening. She kept looking at her fingers, putting them in her mouth and checking them again. The two men noticed, but when they asked, Abby waved it off. After dinner, they all rolled into their sleeping bags—the two men close together, Abby as always opposite them. Even when it got cold, she stayed on her side.  
Ebram woke with a strange feeling. He couldn’t name it in his half-sleep, but so much had happened lately that he’d become more alert. First, he listened to his surroundings. Bernard’s warm breath brushed his neck, the heavy arm and leg still draped over him. He smiled inwardly and was about to drift off again when he heard a rustle directly in front of him. He froze and slowly cracked one eye open—and nearly recoiled in shock. Abby’s face was right in front of his, staring at him. Her gaze was strange, with a hint of hunger. Ebram considered saying something, but stayed silent and kept watching. His heart began to race, and his hands turned cold and clammy.  
Abby didn’t blink. She just stared. Then, suddenly, she stood and returned to her sleeping bag. Slipped inside and lay still. Ebram swallowed hard, unsure what to do. But there was nothing overtly dangerous about Abby watching him. It was unsettling, yes—but he decided not to wake Bernard. He could ask Abby about it in the morning. By then, he had already dismissed the scene as a dream. Abby behaved normally at breakfast, and he had no reason to think otherwise.  
They continued marching—Abby leading the way, full of energy. Even Bernard struggled to keep up. She kept disappearing between trees, only to reappear suddenly—smiling, holding a pinecone or a stone. Bernard’s gaze grew skeptical, and Ebram also found it odd, but nothing seemed dangerous. Eventually, when Abby vanished again briefly, Bernard turned to Ebram. “She’s not using the compass.”
“What?” Ebram didn’t understand at first.
“She’s not using the compass anymore,” Bernard repeated firmly.
“Then how does she know where to go?” Ebram asked slowly.
“No idea. But she’s moving with purpose—too much purpose.” Just then, Abby reappeared with a cheerful: “This way! I found a shelter! You’ll love it, Ebram!”  
The two men exchanged a glance—but if they didn’t want to lose Abby, they had to follow. Abby practically ran between the trees toward a hill. There, a gate-sized opening led into the hillside. “This way!” Abby called and vanished into the darkness. But both Ebram and Bernard felt uneasy. Every step toward the yawning entrance felt wrong. Their movements slowed, cautious—but nothing happened. They reached the entrance and peered into a vaulted space. Dimly lit, with dust motes stirred by Abby dancing in the light.
“I don’t like this,” Bernard murmured.
“Me neither,” Ebram agreed. But they followed—reluctantly, dragging their feet. Each step took effort, while Abby laughed gleefully in the dark: “Over here!”