The Trade

"Are you sure about this?" Leo asks, voice low. His eyes are darting around like he's looking for something, anything, to leap out and present a better solution than the one they've been discussing.

Miriam shrugs, hoping it comes off as cool and unaffected even though she's pretty sure it doesn't. "It's going to be fine. We need the supplies, right?"

"We do," Leo says. His ever-present frown cuts deeply into his forehead, dark eyebrows furrowed against dark skin. "But maybe we could..."

"Yeah," Miriam says when he doesn't continue. "Maybe we could go back in time and move out of Chicago before we ran out of food, but my time machine broke when the rest of the world exploded, so I think we're down to Plan AA here."

"I don't like Plan AA," Leo mutters. "What happened to Plan R? Or Y? I liked Y."

"Does it matter?" Miriam counters. "Not to be dramatic, Leo, but if we don't get food soon, we're literally in danger of starving to death."

Leo sighs, long and gusty. "I know."

"It'll only take an hour," Miriam adds. "And you can come with me, as long as you don't say anything."

"I know," Leo says again. "I just don't like the idea. I'm registering that in advance: I hate this idea."

"Noted," Miriam says dryly. She stands up, dusting her hands off on her also-dusty jeans before adjusting the heart-shaped locket hanging around her neck. "Let's go."

Leo doesn't say anything else as he follows her out of the house.

The plan isn't really a plan, or at least not as much of one as some of their more complicated ideas had been, Miriam reflects as they set out. There's a trader about twenty minutes' walk from the house, and word has been going around that he's got a pretty big store of goods. Word has also gotten around that the guy is more than a little eccentric, but then again, it's been six months since most of the world stopped being a thing. "Eccentric" is honestly preferable to a lot of other characteristics a person could have at this point.

They've been walking in uneasy silence for around fifteen minutes when Leo clears his throat. "You have everything?"

"Yeah," Miriam says. She touches the locket again, trying not to let her nerves show.

"I could," Leo starts, but Miriam gives him the dirtiest look she can muster, and he wisely decides not to finish that thought.

"Just keep quiet unless I ask you for help," Miriam says. "I'm begging you. I can do this, but only if you trust me to get it done."

"I trust you," Leo says, quiet and fierce, and Miriam feels her nerves settle a little as they stop in front of the only habitable-looking house on the block.

"Here we go," Miriam mutters, then reaches up to knock.

There's a moment of complete quiet, and then the door opens suddenly, revealing a graying man with thin wire-framed glasses. "Hello! I'm Travis. Are you here to trade?" He pauses to blink at them twice in a way that feels somehow purposeful. "I'm interested in that, but nothing else, so let's figure out if we should even be talking here."

"We're here to trade," Miriam says, flashing Travis the brightest grin she can manage. "You have supplies?"

"Of course I have supplies," Travis says, rolling his eyes theatrically. "What kind of trader would I be without something to trade?"

"The normal kind, these days," Miriam says.

Travis nods thoughtfully as he steps back. "Well, come in," he says. "Let's see what you have for me, and I'll see what I can give you in return."

Miriam swallows and doesn't look over at Leo as they follow Travis inside. They're in the house, which means they're one step closer to leaving with the supplies they desperately need.

"So," Travis says, waving them into a sitting room. The curtains are flung wide, letting the bright sunshine in, and the furniture all seems to match. It's a feat that Miriam hadn't experienced even before the end of the world, and she's a little impressed despite herself. "What do you have to offer, hm?"

Miriam takes a deep breath and pulls on every acting skill she has. She'd been a librarian before the end, and she hasn't done anything even close to acting since the fourth grade all-class rendition of The Music Man, but she's going to do the absolute best that she can here anyway. "I have money," she says, finally glancing over to Leo. It's partially for emotional support, but it's more to try to send a fake signal to Travis, like maybe she's not sure of herself.

Travis chuckles. "Look around," he says, gesturing at the air. "What good is money? There are no banks, no stores, no gas stations. Money's just paper with numbers and faces on it." He leans forward, looking Miriam steadily in the eye. "Can I tell you something?"

Miriam nods and doesn't say anything else.

"Money is worthless, cars are worthless, jewelry is worthless," Travis says. "In fact, everything's worthless, unless..."

"Unless?" Miriam asks when Travis doesn't go on. He's clearly waiting for the question.

"Unless you decide it has worth," Travis says, grinning. "I don't want a watch just to have a watch. If it's one that a father gifted his son, well, that has worth. To the son, at least." He sits back against the chair. "So, with that in mind, let me ask you: what do you have that's worth something to you?"

Miriam blinks at Travis. He's sitting there watching her, grin getting wider and wider. Her hand drifts up to play with the locket, and then she makes her fingers go still before dropping her hand to her lap again.

Travis' gaze goes sharp, assessing. "Your locket," he says, nodding at her. "Tell me about it."

Miriam swallows and looks down. She reaches out with one hand and Leo takes it instantly, squeezing lightly as her other hand reaches for the locket again. "It was my sister's," she says quietly, staring at her knees. "My dad gave it to her when she turned thirteen. It was going to be a big thing—like, when I turned thirteen, I'd get one too. Family tradition. But then, when I was eleven, he and my mom..."

"Ah," Travis says after a moment. "I'm sorry for your loss. Even if it wasn't recent, I'm still sorry."

Miriam nods and swallows, still not looking up. "Candace had hers, and she wore it all the time," she goes on. "Right after everything happened, though, she and her husband decided to get out of the city. They went south, and she gave it to me so I'd—so I'd have something of hers, you know?"

"I do know," Travis says. His voice is full of sympathy, and for a man whose entire goal in life is to take people's most prized possessions, he sounds incredibly genuine. "It sounds like there's quite a lot of worth in that necklace, isn't there?"

"There is," Miriam says, finally looking up at him again. She pulls in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I don't even know if she and her family are still... There aren't even any pictures in it. It's just the necklace, and it's all I have."

Travis hums. "Well," he says. "It's your decision on whether or not you want to part with it. I'm not here to force your hand. If you decide you'd like to, though, I'd be willing to offer you quite a lot in traded goods."

Miriam squeezes Leo's hand tightly enough that Travis has to be able to see it. "I don't think we have another choice," she says after a moment.

"Very well," Travis says, standing and gesturing for them to follow him.

Leo inhales sharply when Travis leads them out of the house and into the oversized garage. There's canned food stacked upon canned food, purified water in bottles, dry milk packets... It's more food than Miriam's seen in one place for at least four months, and she has to swallow hard at the thought of getting their hands on some.

"You can fill four crates," Travis says, gesturing to a pile of empty crates in the corner. "And I'll give you two cases of water. You don't have to fit those in the crates."

Leo's hand goes tight enough to hurt for a split-second before he lets go. "We'll need to make a few trips to get everything home."

"Of course, of course," Travis says, nodding. "That's not a problem at all."

"Any limits on how many of anything we can take?" Leo asks.

Travis shakes his head. "Just let me know if you take the last of something," he says. "And I'll write you a receipt."

Miriam can feel the hysterical laughter bubbling up in her chest at the sheer absurdity of getting a receipt, but she swallows it down and nods.

"Hey," Leo says, reaching out to touch her hand but not looking over at Travis. "We don't have to do this."

"We do," Miriam says, squeezing her eyes shut. She reaches up and unclasps the necklace, then holds it out for Travis to take.

"Thank you for the locket," Travis says. "And for the memory. I hope your sister's family is doing well."

"Me too," Miriam murmurs. She takes another deep breath, then opens her eyes and turns to Leo. "Let's fill the crates."

They work quickly; Leo packs the crates as Miriam brings him things, and before too long, they're ready to go. It's so weirdly normal and utterly absurd at the same time to watch as Travis carefully counts each can of carrots and soup, noting each down in a ledger, but soon he's handing them a receipt and showing them to the door. Leo promises to come back with a wagon to collect everything else, and then they're off, each carrying a crate filled to the brim.

"Miriam," Leo begins when they're about a block away.

"Not here," she hisses, keeping her steps steady and even. "Wait until we turn the corner."

Leo doesn't say anything else, but as soon as they turn the corner, he laughs. "Miriam," he says again, and when she turns to look at him, he's grinning, looking lighter than he has since they found each other in the aftermath of the world not-quite-ending.

She laughs, too, ducking into an alleyway so she can set her crate down. He follows, dropping his crate so he can pull her into a hug, laughing into her hair. "I can't believe you pulled that off," he says, admiration clear in his voice.

Miriam giggles, high and giddy. "I can't, either," she says. "I forgot half the story—"

"—I noticed you ad-libbing a little in the middle there, yeah—"

"—but he bought it," Miriam says triumphantly, pulling back to grin up at Leo. "Four crates of food for a locket we found on the street and a made-up story I could barely remember, Leo. Four crates."

"And two cases of water," Leo adds. "Don't sell yourself short on that."

Miriam laughs with all the joy and hope of another two months' worth of supplies. "I won't," she promises as she bends down to get her crate. "Come on, let's get this stuff back to the house."

"For tonight, we feast," Leo intones, laughing as he picks up his crate and follows her out of the alley.