The cozy holiday passed in a flash. Before they knew it, it was ti to set out for Tunumo Village.
Early that morning, Misha was driven to Everly’s house by her parents. She was determined to travel across the United States, so she didn’t mind leaving ahead of schedule—in fact, she was excited to visit Yanifly State and broaden her horizons.
“I looked it up online—there’s an Indian reservation near there. Do they live on the reservation?”
“No, Tunumo Village is outside the reservation.”
Indian reservations are areas of land in the United States designated for Native Aricans. Most are located in remote regions with scarce resources, relatively underdeveloped infrastructure, and limited economic opportunities.
Within reservations, Native tribes are granted a certain degree of self-governance, including the ability to enact laws, administer justice, and manage taxation. However, while that’s how it is defined in principle, in practice the U.S. Congress holds ultimate authority over Native affairs. If Congress declares a tribe dissolved, all its mbers would legally lose their status as “recognized persons.” This shows that Native Aricans’ right to self-determination is, in reality, quite limited.
Indian reservations are considered sensitive areas and cannot be entered freely without permission. However, today most Native Aricans have already moved out of the reservations and live in towns and cities; only about 30% still reside within reservation lands.
The destination of this trip, Tunumo Village, is located beside one such reservation. Most of the village’s residents are Winton people who moved out of the reservation, along with a smaller number of white settlers living among them.
The three set off from a gas station. According to their plan, they first drove to the state capital, Sunken City, then took a Grey Wolf long-distance bus. After about a day’s journey, they arrived in Gilosha City, where they stayed overnight. The next day, they rented a car and drove 65 kiloters to reach Tunumo Village.
The village was located in the central plains of Yanifly State, where the land was fertile and vegetation lush. The area mainly focused on agriculture and livestock farming, with nurous family-run farms scattered throughout. As the car drove along, Everly and Misha each leaned against a window, gazing outside with great interest at the endless stretches of crops and herds of cattle and sheep.
“I see the road sign—Tunumo is nearby. About five more minutes of driving.”
Whether it was the sense of freedom and relaxation from speeding across the open plains, or the excitent of soon eting a friend, Old John was in high spirits, his voice filled with unconcealed anticipation and contentnt.
Unfortunately, just then, the car passed by a farm. Several police cars were parked outside the livestock sheds, and a large crowd had gathered around. The red and blue lights flashed rapidly, creating an unsettling feeling.
The previously peaceful and harmonious atmosphere was instantly shattered, and the three people in the car were abruptly pulled back to reality.
Horror Movie Survival Rule #1: pay attention to the hints.
Although this place was still over ten kiloters away from Tunumo Village and might not necessarily affect it, it was always better to figure out what was happening nearby sooner rather than later—better than being completely clueless when sothing actually happened.
“What happened over there?”
“No idea. I’ll look it up online.” Misha took out her phone, snapped a quick photo, and then skillfully began searching the internet.
After a while, she put her phone down and told Everly that it seed the farm’s livestock had died.
“It looks like so strange nocturnal animal has been appearing around here. More than one farm has had livestock attacked at night, dying suddenly for no clear reason. The farrs are furious and have been urging the police to find the culprit and put it down, but there hasn’t been any progress.”
“Only livestock have been attacked?”
“Yes. At least so far, there haven’t been any reports of humans being attacked.”
Everly nodded.
If that so-called “nocturnal animal” were the boss of so monster horror film, then the story would probably only be in its second phase right now—the creature hadn’t started attacking humans yet. It would likely take so ti to develop: either after all the nearby livestock had been wiped out, or after the monster encountered humans or got a taste of them and decided they were more appealing, would it shift its focus to people. Only then would the story move into its third or fourth phase.
Right now, it was the afternoon of January 11. She would only be staying in Tunumo Village until the 14th, leaving on the 15th to drive to Gilosha and catch a flight to her university. That gave her just three and a half days here. Unless she was extraordinarily unlucky, there was no reason for the “movie” to progress that quickly—or even affect Tunumo Village at all…
Of course, that was just speculation. Proper caution was still necessary. The reason Everly had managed to survive so long in a world full of horror-movie scenarios was that she treated every “film” with equal respect.
The car sped forward and quickly passed the farm where the livestock deaths had occurred. After continuing along the road for another four or five minutes, the three finally arrived at a village.
They had reached Tunumo Village.
The village was quite small, with only a few dozen households and just over 300 residents. About 80% of them were Native Aricans from the Winton tribe. Perhaps influenced by this, wooden totem poles painted with pignts could occasionally be seen at the village entrance and along its edges, and so houses featured decorative patterns with a distinct Native Arican style along their eaves and window fras.
Aside from that, however, the houses were no different from those in any ordinary village. The conical tents and bark-covered huts Misha had been eagerly expecting before the trip were nowhere to be seen.
As a side note, the Native villagers dressed no differently from typical Aricans either—wearing thick down jackets and warm fur-lined boots, knitted hats on their heads, watches on their wrists, and pulling out their phones to scroll through Chatter or watch shows when bored. In short, aside from their skin tone and a few small Native-style accessories they wore, their lifestyle was already largely the sa as that of white Aricans.
Old John had already arranged to et his friend Karl in advance. As soon as their car entered the village, the three of them were warmly welcod.
Karl held a high status within the Winton tribe. More than forty years ago, when the tribe was plunged into poverty and hunger due to discrimination and unemploynt, he had stepped forward bravely. Through military service—fighting amid gunfire—he earned honors that brought food, money, and respect from the outside world to his people. He helped the tribe survive its most difficult days and ensured that the children did not starve.
These contributions are still rembered by the tribe to this day. As a result, Old John—Karl’s friend and comrade-in-arms—was also treated as a friend by the Native villagers. It was even said that, if not for the snowfall expected that night, the Winton people would have held an open-air bonfire party in the village square to welco the three of them.
Following beside Old John, Everly and Misha also felt the simplicity and warmth of the Native people.
The Winton tribe preferred to live together as extended families rather than splitting into separate households. Karl’s large wooden house had seventeen or eighteen rooms, and was ho to Karl and his wife, his two sons, and his youngest daughter. Aside from the daughter, who was still unmarried, both sons already had families of their own, and together had five children—three granddaughters and two grandsons—making for a very lively household.
Everly had always lived with Old John and had rarely visited relatives. Suddenly having to et so many people—all of whom were so warm and enthusiastic—made her feel quite unaccustod. By the end of it, trying to rember everyone had her head spinning.
Fortunately, she had Misha by her side—a true social butterfly. Sohow, Misha had developed the ability to converse smoothly and confidently with anyone. Even when facing Native Aricans, who were generally sowhat wary of white Aricans, she could interact naturally and gracefully. In no ti at all, she would figure out what people liked, win them over, and beco friends with them.
With Misha helping out, even though Everly spoke less, no one found her behavior impolite.
Because of a series of forced assimilation policies historically implented in the United States, Native Arican culture had suffered severe disruption. Among the present-day Winton people, so had never even heard the na “Aulerbis.” As for the story of the Fountain of Youth that Everly wanted to learn about, Karl and his wife didn’t know it—but they warmly offered to ask the tribe’s priest on her behalf once she returned.
“The priest is currently conducting a ritual at the Sacred Tree in the reservation and cannot be disturbed. She should be back during the day on the 14th. Whatever you want to ask, she’ll definitely know.”
“That’s great. Thank you, Grandpa Karl.”
Everly happened to be staying here until the 14th and planned to leave during the day on the 15th, so the timing worked out perfectly.
Since the priest wasn’t around, there was no point in rushing. Setting her task aside for the mont, Everly threw herself fully into enjoying the visit.
She had been born and raised in an arid desert, and rarely had the chance to co to such a lush, fertile countryside. Noticing the trio’s curiosity about the surroundings, Karl and his wife took the initiative after lunch to show them around the village and introduce them to other Native residents.
“Look over there—that stretch of saline-alkali land is our reservation.”
Passing by the northwest corner of the village, Karl pointed toward a distant range of hills.
When the United States designated Indian reservations, the land given was often barren and difficult to develop. Compared to the vast, flat plains surrounding it, that uneven coastal stretch—with sparse vegetation and saline soil—clearly fell into that category.
“A mining company contacted us before, saying they had discovered so kind of mineral near the reservation. The deposit runs beneath the reservation, and they wanted to sign an agreent with us for joint developnt. But we would never do sothing so short-sighted. The reservation is our last pure land—outsiders will never be allowed to touch it.”
“That’s right.”
“The reservation is sacred.”
The nearby villagers echoed in agreent, their faces showing shared indignation.
The village itself was small. After taking a walk around it, the group headed to Karl’s farm.
Like most nearby villages, Tunumo’s residents mainly ran small family farms, cultivating crops and raising livestock on the land surrounding the village. During the off-season, villagers would sotis take odd jobs in town to supplent their inco.
Karl’s farm was located just a few hundred ters from the village. About the size of a soccer field, most of it was used to keep livestock, while the edges were planted with crops like corn and soybeans.
“I heard you live on the east side of the Iramore Mountains. You probably don’t see scenes like this very often.” Karl’s youngest daughter, Quilla, led Everly and Misha to the cattle pen. She grabbed a handful of salt, stepped over the fence, and used it to attract a few docile cows to the edge, signaling for the two girls to pet them.
The cows were tall and sturdy, but their eyes were gentle and innocent. When they licked the girls’ palms, the sensation was warm and ticklish in a strange but pleasant way.
Everly couldn’t help but break into a goofy smile.
Seeing this, Quilla raised her eyebrows proudly.
Quilla was just in her early twenties, with wheat-colored skin, long black hair, and beautiful almond-shaped eyes that were bright and lively. She was a vibrant young Native woman full of energy. Being around the sa age as Everly and Misha, they quickly found common ground and beca friends after only a short conversation.
“Quilla, when we arrived, we saw police cars at a farm to the south. I heard their livestock died. Do you know anything about that?” Misha asked curiously after playing with the cows for a while.
Everly imdiately perked up her ears upon hearing the ntion of the incident.
“Of course we know. This has been a big deal recently—dozens of farms nearby have been affected,” Quilla said, raising her hand and pointing westward. “I rember the first ones to run into trouble were the farms further south, probably at the beginning of this month. When the farrs went to open the chicken coops to feed the chickens as usual, they found all of their chickens dead.”
At first, the farrs assud it was foxes, wolves, or so other wild animals that had ventured into the farms in search of food during the harsh winter. But after counting the chickens at the scene, they realized not a single chicken was missing from the coops.
If it were starving wild animals, how could they leave every single chicken uneaten?
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