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Day One, 1887
Aubry, My Dear Sister,
It has been mere days since that storm drove us apart and already it feels like a lifetime. I don’t think I’ve ever been more terrified as I was then. It still haunts my dreams, even now, over a week later. Despite our search and rescue efforts, many fear that those who were lost from our party are lying buried under the snow. I choose to have hope that we were merely separated and will be reunited again. Perhaps even someday soon. We continued on, hoping to at least find Winterhome, but today came across a giant generator. The majority of our group felt it was best to settle here rather than continue the search for the city. I have to say I agree, considering we’re unsure how much farther it is and if it’s even still standing. It was left unsaid, but I think we all understand that we may not survive a second storm exposed to the elements as we are now. I can only hope that you find your way back to me or if not, that you find shelter in a city that does still stand. Perhaps you will be the one to find Winterhome first. When I lie down to sleep, I imagine you arriving here and into my open arms. Hopefully soon, with a warm bed, and plenty to eat. And when I wake in the middle of the night, sweating despite the bitter cold, I hope and pray that you are simply still alive. For now, I am trying to remember to be grateful that I have my life, health, and now the warmth of this generator. I plan to write to you as much as I can, as I think it will help me stay sane, and keep hope in my heart.
Love, Beth
Day Two, 1887
Dearest Aubrey,
It is only the second day we’ve been here and we’ve already gathered quite a bit of the surrounding materials and several buildings have been erected. This morning I was assigned to the Cookhouse and was so grateful for the break from hauling wood. I feel guilty saying this, but I am also relieved to be out of the cold. The Cookhouse is nicely insulated against the chill and my face no longer stings from the biting wind. That said, I am certainly grateful to those that are still out there working hard to bring wood, steel, and coal into the storage building next to the generator. Thankfully we have already built a medical center for those that fall ill in this terrible weather. Tonight we sleep on the ground again by the generator, but after so long sleeping out in the snow, it almost feels like a luxury.
Until Tomorrow, Beth
Day Three, 1887
My Dear Aubrey,
It’s my second day in the Cookhouse and I can already tell this is going to be a great job for me. I love feeling like I’m a part of the highlight of someone's day. A hot meal, and a warm place to eat it. During the weeks we spent trekking through the snow and biting wind, I think we were all too afraid to allow even the slightest bit of heat to escape through our mouths. To feel the chill of the air in our lungs even more acutely. It’s wonderful to see people finally relax and engage in conversation again.
There are five of us working together in the Cookhouse, so we decided on a rotation schedule for cooking in the back and serving out front. My serving shift is lunch, which I think is the best shift. No one’s grumpy because they’re on their way to work and they’re not yet exhausted from a full day's labor. And though the work is hard, I feel that everyone has gained a sense of purpose now that we are putting down roots. I am happy to see the hope on their faces again. I can’t wait for you to rejoin us and be part of this new society.
Love Always, Beth
Day Four, 1887
Dear Aubrey,
Today I was delighted to see that last night’s haul from the Hunter’s was larger than usual. I’m hopeful that this means we will be able to start serving food a little heartier than the soup we’ve been making do with. Oddly, all anyone was talking about was the wiseness of prioritizing larger food portions and building a beacon over basic shelter. I have to admit, as grateful as I am just to be near the heat of the generator, it does seem unwise to put off shelter while we don’t know when another storm may hit. I’m sure we’d fair better here than out in the bare frozen tundra, but for how long? And with the Beacon up, how long until others arrive? Could we still all fit next to the generator at night? Or would some of us have to sleep out in the snow? I thought these were fair concerns, but I wasn’t sure if it was worth rioting over. I trust that the mayor has a plan and is using our labor and resources strategically. It wasn’t until I overheard a distraught mother that I really began to understand why the level of concern was so high. She said that she barely gets any sleep at night because her children wake up and start wandering around, disrupting the others that are sleeping. She’s also worried that one of the little ones might get crushed at night due to everyone laying so tightly packed next to the generator. Someone suggested that we band together and approach the mayor tomorrow morning. The plan is to insist that shelter be the main priority over any other buildings or improvements that may be in the works. I plan to join them. My unease regarding the weather does grow with each passing day and I think it’s worthwhile to help support the others. We’re all in this together so any concern of my neighbor’s is a concern of my own.
Praying that you see the beacon and are on your way to us now.
With Love, Beth
Day Five, 1887
Dear Aubrey,
I wish you were here. You would have been so proud of me this morning. We banded together and approached the mayor with our request that tents be prioritized. There were those trying to argue against us, but I spoke out and gave them a piece of my mind. Who are they to silence our voices? If the mayor doesn’t agree, so what? They’ll simply choose to not fulfill our request. But to not allow us to be heard at all? Absolutely outrageous. This colony is a cooperative effort. It is important that we all look out for each other or else we’ll never survive here, storm or no storm. Thankfully, the mayor responded that our request was absolutely reasonable and promised we’d all be sleeping sheltered two nights from now. Everyone seemed quite relieved by this news and perhaps even a little more hopeful about the future. There were a few of course that rolled their eyes and mumbled “We’ll see”, but I really do think this promise will be kept.
Day Six, 1887
My Dear Aubrey,
The first of the new tents have already started to go up. They’ve prioritized housing women and children, so I will be sleeping on a soft bed tonight for the first time in weeks. I was a little concerned at first about moving to a shelter that was outside the range of the generator, but our engineers built something called a “Steam Core” that extends its reach. They appear to work like giant heaters, so even those far from the generator are just as warm as those cozied up to it. I couldn’t be happier and I can tell morale, in general, has soared. I can even hear children cheerfully play-fighting over which bed is theirs. I know there’s still upgrades needed before they’ll have a chance at surviving a storm, but for now, we are exhilarated by this first step.
All my best, Beth
Day Seven, 1887
Dearest Sister,
Today they finished building the rest of the tents, much to everyone’s relief. The Mayor cut it kind of close, but I think we’re all just grateful to be getting a more comfortable night’s rest going forward.
A few people are already talking about using one of the tents for a regular sewing circle meetup. I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon and I’ve decided to join. I don’t have as much to mend now that I work in the Cookhouse, but I could certainly benefit from the company.
Love Always, Beth
Day Eight, 1887
Dear Aubrey,
We have been here just over a week, and I keep half expecting you to appear at any moment. This morning our scouts came back with a group that they’d found in a nearby cavern. My heart pounded in my chest as I watched each person come through, searching their faces for any familiarity. They’d been trapped by bears and were too afraid to attempt fighting their way out. The scouts helped them scare the bears away and then escorted the rescues back to our settlement. I was sad to see that you weren’t among them but I still have hope. I will continue to write and save these letters because I know in my heart that we will be together again soon.
With Love, Beth
Day Nine, 1887
My Dear Aubrey,
Not much new to report today. Progress marches on and I’m pleased to see that raw food is still steadily being supplied to the Cookhouse. So far we’ve only served basic soups but I think we could start making heartier meals with the volume the hunters have been pulling in lately. We just need the mayor’s go-ahead to make the switch. My stomach is growling just thinking about it! Who would have thought we’d already be stockpiling food so soon? I don’t want to jinx anything but I feel really good about the progress our settlement has made so far. Our future is looking very optimistic!
All My Best, Beth
Day Ten, 1887
Dearest Aubrey,
This morning they erected another Workshop and moved five more engineers from gathering resources to research. I heard from the lunch crowd that the current research project is a Wall Drill. Everyone is abuzz with the news because with an additional team of engineers working on it, we could have one installed and functioning as early as two days from now. The excitement is certainly contagious. With the amount of wood the Wall Drill will give us access to, we will finally be able to build proper housing to shelter us against the slowly dropping temperatures and any future storms.
Love, Beth
Day Thirteen, 1887
My Dear Sister,
Not much has changed over the last few days, other than feeling a little run down lately. No matter how much I sleep, I’m still tired in the morning. I think I might be coming down with something. Currently, there’s not much room in the Medical Center, so I’m not able to go in for a checkup. Hopefully, I’ll feel better soon.
With Love, Beth
Day Fourteen, 1887
Dear Aubrey,
This morning I woke up feeling just terrible. I am so ill, I fear for my ability to get myself to the Cookhouse to eat, let alone work. Something wicked has been spreading through the camp and it seems that I did not escape its path. I suppose with working at the Cookhouse and coming in contact with so many people, something like this was inevitable. One of my tent-mates, a kind woman named Cecil, went to collect my rations for the day and came back with news that another Medical Center is being built. I can’t tell you how relieved I am. Normally I wouldn’t be so concerned, but with weather conditions being what they are, I’m not sure it’s possible for me to get warm enough to heal on my own in this tent. Thankfully Cecil said that she’d come back and escort me there once it is finished being built. I’m so grateful for her help and her kindness. Hopefully, I will be back in good health soon.
Best, Your Sister Beth
Day Sixteen, 1887
Dearest Aubrey,
Yesterday morning I was admitted to the new Medical Center. I was pretty delirious for most of the day, but today I feel like I have one foot back in the land of the living. One person in particular has been working tirelessly on my care. The other doctors seem to only check on patients once every few hours, but this person has barely left my side since I arrived. Their name is Avery and they have very kind eyes. This morning they revealed that they remembered me from the rally for shelter and complimented me on my passionate delivery. I could feel myself blushing furiously but smiled wider than I have in some time, judging by the way my face muscles protested. They’ve actually gotten quite the workout today, as Avery is quick of wit and great at cards. At first, I felt guilty to be receiving extra attention when so many others had no one to pass the time with, but by the end of the day, I felt so light and happy that I scarcely noticed being side-eyed anymore.
I am so glad that I had the forethought to bring my little note-case so that I could write a letter to you about this happy update. I miss you so much and think of you every day.
Yours in ‘Soon To Be’ Good Health, Beth
Day Twenty, 1887
My Dear Sister,
The last few days have flown by. I’m back to work at the Cookhouse and Avery has been visiting me daily. Our banter at lunch has become the highlight of my day. We have a dinner date planned for tomorrow and I can scarcely think of anything else. I was lamenting my lack of dressier clothing when someone in my tent offered to lend me a sweet hair ribbon that they’d brought with them from London. I’m not ashamed to admit I cried a little and thanked them profusely for their kindness. I am beaming now while writing this, probably looking like an absolute fool, but I can’t be bothered to care. Avery has become my lighthouse in these choppy waters. When I’m missing you too much or feeling adrift, they have a way of making me feel grounded and like we’re all headed for greater things. In other good news, I’ve heard that the mayor’s next project is to put together a second set of scouts. I know in my heart that we will be reunited soon!
All My Love, Beth
Day Thirty-four, 1887
My Dear Sweet Sister,
The last two weeks have been hard to say the least. I was chosen to be on the new scout team and was sent out immediately. I barely had time to let Avery know and say good-bye before I was rushed out on our first mission. Even though we spent so long out in the frozen tundra before finding this generator a mere month ago, it was a shock to fully face the elements prolonged and unshielded once again. I would have written to you while out on missions but most nights were too cold for pencil to work on paper and I couldn’t help but use the warmer nights for writing to Avery. Honestly, I hoped that more letters to you wouldn’t be necessary. That I’d find you camped or wandering nearby with another group of survivors. I nearly scared some children that we found with my desperation to find you among their numbers but it must not be our time to be reunited just yet. We’ve scouted all of the known locations nearby but I refuse to give up hope. There’s still time before the storm hits for you to see our beacon and safely make your way here.
With Love and Determination, Beth
Day Thirty-nine,1887
Dearest Aubrey,
Survivors have started arriving at our settlement in droves, just as I’d hoped. Driven towards us by the coming storm. Several of the places we scouted just last week have already begun to ice over. Please be out there. Please see the beacon and follow it to me. Follow it home.
When we left London, I felt so lost and in despair to be abandoning our home. But after being separated by that storm, I came to realize that I hadn’t really lost home after all. Because home isn’t just where your roots are. And even in the face of the worst winter we’ve ever seen, it isn’t just where the heat is either. I hadn’t lost home until I had lost you. Meeting Avery helped me understand that. When I’m with them I can feel it again. That contented and comfortable feeling of home.
Your Loving Sister, Beth
Day Forty-Eight, 1887
My Dearest Mother,
I’m sorry that I haven’t written to you since the year after you passed. I know that I shouldn’t but deep within me I feel guilt that I had stopped. A part of me understands that I needed to write those letters to heal and that I stopped when the pain had finally started to become bearable. Recently, when I was separated from Aubrey, that wound that had finally somewhat healed, reopened; becoming exposed and raw again. I did my best to maintain hope that we’d be reunited, but there was always the underlying fear that she was now lost to me the way you are.
Thankfully, that did not end up being our fate. Despite the odds, Aubrey, and the others that survived the storm that separated us, met up with another group of survivalists who led them to a safe encampment several days travel from where they were. When the big storm began to move in a month later, their group was forced to leave in hopes of finding a settlement like ours, with a generator. As luck would have it, or perhaps fate really is guiding us all, that storm drove their group right to ours. After being reunited, Aubrey felt that it might help give me closure to write you one last letter.
I love you and miss you as much now as I did when you parted from this earth. Not a single day goes by that I don’t think of you and wish you were here with me. I like to think that you are looking down on us now, pleased, and content with what you see. Aubrey and I reunited, alive and well. Her getting settled in this new town with her wife and stepson, whom she met at the other encampment. Myself with Avery, who asked me to marry them moments after the storm cleared this morning. I guess in these uncertain times, we are more inclined to jump in with both feet when we find our joy. Our love. Our hope. Our home.
Always, Your Loving Daughter, Beth