Rush

BASED ON HARROWING TRUE EVENTS

A STORY BY ACTUAL STUDENTS

RUSH

In Klondike you either get rich, or you get killed...

AUTHORS

Ada Wu

Curtis Yang

Angela Liu

Cynthia Lin

Bryant Zhou Chelsea Jiang

Emily Wu Jerry Zhou

Christina Ye

Rachael Zhou

Colena Shan

jocelyn li

ronald wei

thank you, To all of my wonderful students, whose incredible imagination and beautiful enthusiasm enabled the success of this class.

And to Linkedkey, for taking a chance on such a bold and bizarre program

- Matthew thompson

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Session 01

CHILKOOT PASS

Session 02

WELCOME TO THE YUKON

Session 03

GREED AND GUNPOWDER

Session 04

BETRAYAL

Session 05

OUT WITH A BANG

SESSION ONE

Chilkoot Pass

Jocelyn, CHAPTER 1: CHILKOOT PASS At long last, the thick clouds finally began to part allowing some warmth to settle in. The girl lifted her gloved hand over her eyes. Squinting, she looked ahead. There it was towering into the sky stood Chilkoot pass. Sighing, she continued her journey. Though it was a sight to behold, to the girl it was nothing more than another obstacle between her and her final goal.

You see, the girl was lazy in nature. She was not one who wished to travel a long distance. She strived to live a sloth-like life. However, contradicting her nature, she had a playful yet curious personality. When she gets bored of something, she can’t help but search for something new. That was how the girl was always like.

A few months ago in a small village near Vancouver, the sun had just risen over the horizon lighting the sky a bright red and violet color. A hooded girl bounced up and down on the stoney path that led to town. She had neatly brushed midnight black hair tied up in a rose bun draped down her back and a pair of chestnut brown eyes. It was the only physical connection she had left of her previous life that she had chosen to leave behind. She was what people would describe as an innocent, pure white lily both pleasing to the eye, elegant and talented. However, that was only on the surface. She was a cross-breed left to feed for herself. Everyday was a struggle. A tiring facade. Finally, her parents’ continuous bickering and inattentiveness diminished the last amount of patience she had within her. So the girl left with her hard earned set of skills to venture out halfway across the globe with a group of merchants. That was Jocelyn, a 15 year old girl who chose to start anew.

Anyhow the fatal day months before her journey to Chilkoot pass, started out like any other day with her going to town. She was not the slightest bit happy about being woken up so early in the morning by roosters. And even less by her unpleasant dream about her past and the sudden boredom that had fallen upon her. She decided that it would be best for her to forget all that and set up her little stand in town. Unlike any other service, Jocelyn provided a service which dealt with anything from picking locks, doing puzzles, origami, solving small cases to playing the piano and providing entertainment. She was a quick-witted girl and did anything to earn a little bit of cash or to ease her boredom.

That day, she sat at her stand fidgeting with a cube. Her eyes scavenged around for something interesting.

Suddenly, a tall middle aged man dressed in a fashionable black coat approached her. He had a top hat plopped on top of his head and a cane in one hand. He looked her straight in the eye and said his name was Conrad Michigan. He knew she was looking for some

entertainment and said he had just the thing. The men pulled out a leather map and laid it on the table. He said he was willing to pay for all the travelling expenses and equipment in exchange for her to go treasure hunting in his stead. He even gave her an unreal amount of down payment Swayed by her dire need for entertainment and money, Jocelyn decided to go along with his idea. Thus marks the beginning of her long journey up north.

Months after she departed from Vancouver, she discovered herself in front of a hotel called “Last Hope”. She found the pricing extremely unreasonable for a one night stay and decided to look around for a better inn. However to her disappointment, none were found within the mile. Defeated, she returned to the hotel and called it a night.

The following morning, she came across a familiar figure in the breakfast hall. To her surprise, it was Conrad Michigan. This time he was dressed in a furrier outfit but just as fashionable. Conrad walked up to her and the 2 exchanged a quick greeting. Jocelyn soon found out that he was only here to brief her and a few other people on the trip through Chilkoot pass.

Dawn soon came, along with a cluster of thick clouds. Most of the people within the hotel departed for the pass. Together they formed a huge hiking group. They walked hours upon hours past rivers and woods, barron and rocky plains, sharp and steep hills. That was how the day passed.

Before long, night had settled in and a beautiful aurora borealis covered the starry skies.

Jocelyn and a few others had made base camp together. She looked up at the faintly visible milky way and closed her eyes. That was how night passed.

The next morning at dawn, most people began to pack up and leave. Jocelyn however decided to laze around for a bit longer. The months of journeying had worn her down and her lazy nature began to show. Around noon, she finally wiggled out of her sleeping bag. She sighed and decided to continue on.

She thought of many things as she journeyed on. Though the life she has right now is nowhere near as luxurious as her previous life, she was happy and that was all that mattered to her. At least that was until she stood before the massive Chilkhoot pass that loomed over her.

Dear Diary,

April 12, 2021

I’ve always been the bright, intelligent, smart girl. Despite being so smart, I’ve never been the most wealthy. Well, I guess that changes now. I’m gonna be rich!!

Bryant. Z 1897 Wednesday, September 1st Dawson City, Alaska Hi I guess, This is the first time I’m ever writing in a journal, so I suppose I’ll provide some context about who I am. I’m Bryant and I'm 24. I don’t have a family because, as far as I know, children are an unnecessary, annoying burden. I worked as an architect for Jensen and Halstead until I got hired to become a prospector.

The journey here certainly was not Buckingham Palace, and instead was characterized by austerity measures, which meant my cabin in the train was shared with 5 other burly, and unpleasantly smelling prospectors. It sometimes became a little hard to sleep, especially since a man named Joe kept gambling with a man named Rogdan, and lost $128 because of his poor blackjack skills and his inability to obtain any good hand for poker. Joe was also never able to keep in his frustration with the loss of such a sum of money.

The clock reads 3:30 am, but it seems much later. The sky, which is dark in Chicago at this time, is lit up in a marvelous green, with hints of pink poking through. A distant mountain stabs it’s summit into the celestial fabric, and is lit up like a massive mutant watermelon. Really thinking about it though, the sky in Chicago is also often quite bright at this time, but from fires instead of the aurora borealis.

Alaska is a great place.

I’m here because of a man named Conrad, who everyone mispronounces as “comrade”. Comrade is a man who’s always dressed like the capitalist snob he is: impeccable three-piece suit, white teeth and a positively charming smile. Strong American accent.

Great negotiator. Tough at times.

He would make a great gangster.

Comrade is the self-described “man in the field” of Wagner & Sons Inc., a gold prospecting company. Comrade apparently decided that I was a “smart yang lad” who would “get tha jab dan wewr”. And I accepted, because of the chance at so much money.

He negotiated with me for my contract, which I have copied below.

WAGNER & SONS ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF RESPONSIBILITY ISSUED BY MR. CONRAD MICHIGAN, MANAGING DIRECTOR OF GLOBAL PROCUREMENT OF WAGNER AND SONS The signee of the contract (henceforth referred to as the signee) agrees that: 1. Wagner & Sons Inc (henceforth referred to as”the company”) shall issue the sum of 2000 United States Dollars (henceforth referred to as the “$”), of which the signee may spend on their choice.

2. The company shall not arrange lodgings for the signee, however the signee is recommended to stay with other contract holders from the company.

3. The signer shall pay no less than ¼ of any gold retrieved to the company, up to $8 000 or 395.2 troy ounces of gold paid to the company.

4. The signee shall be charged with robbery of the amount withheld from the company in the event the signee does not fulfill his obligation under Title 3 of this contract.

5. The company shall cover all medical expenses incurred by the signee.

6. The company shall only honour Title 5 of the contract under the condition that the signee may prove any event where Title 5 was evoked was not evoked by a measure of willful self harm.

7. The signee shall receive shares of the company equal to ½ of the value of gold paid to the company. The shares allocated will be rounded to the nearest whole number and shall be issued in the value at the time of the registration of delivery.

I agree with all the conditions outlined above.

Bryant Zhou He’s a terrible snob. Who could write such a boring contract? Although the $2000 was, by keeping my purse strings tighter than the hangman’s noose, enough to buy many other comforts and securities, which included useful things like extra rations, a Winchester Model 1894 and an electric torch. I will admit I did buy a grotesquely priced ($1,99!) pack of cards, which was worth it, as it helped me win $15 from a hapless man named Andy.

Well, the church bells are striking 4. No point trying to sleep any longer. Especially in this terribly named hotel, the “Last Hope”. Which certainly does not help any nervous feeling in one’s stomach. Combined with the fact that they charged me $30 just for the night! Although they did take care to remind me that tonight was probably the last time I’d sleep in a warm bed, /eat a warm meal and win $5 from Andy. Poor fool. Always thinks he can beat me.

Comrade told us to be in the hall at 4:30am, but punctuality is never a sin. Although when I came down at 4:15, Comrade was already there. He flashed me his charming smile and said “gawd mornin’” in his odd American accent. After inviting me to tuck into a tasteless breakfast of hash browns and scrambled eggs with ketchup (!?!) with the others, Comrade steps onto his little podium and makes a speech.

“Greatings, frands!”

Tawday wai set awf awn our journay: we shall ascend the Chilkoot Pass tawday!”

(Now writing out his speech in proper English as it is too time consuming to write his broken accent).

“You're all lucky fellers that you had me, huh? Now because I woke you up so early, we’ll be amongst the first to get through the pass!”

(A cheer) “I know you’re all nervous. But thanks for sticking with me here! I thought more people would chicken out, but so far none of you have! Except Noah… (a boo)” (he speaks so slowly)

“Now, today we’ll be ascending the Chilkoot Pass! Well, all of you except me, because I have some arrangements that I need to have done, but I’ll catch up to you in a few days!

Alright now! Finish your breakfast and we climb Chilkoot Pass!”

(Cheer) Comrade now leads us out of the warm hotel and into the bitterly cold air, and continues to lavish praise on himself for his genius at taking us out so early. The auroras and darkness are still out in full force, but so is the cold, which gnaws into your flesh no matter what you wear. Strangely, I can hear the sound of thunder in the distance, but it seems too uneven to be thunder. Plus there’s no rain, and no flash of lightning before. Comrade tells us that the US government is using artillery pieces to cause small avalanches in order to ensure larger ones don’t happen.

Not really comforting but OK. Comrade repeats his preachings about his intellectual superiority as we round a corner, and Chilkoot Pass comes into view.

And there isn’t just one soul in sight.

There are hundreds of prospectors, in a long, thin, winding line which snakes up over Chilkoot Pass. As we watch, a dot on the mountain stumbles and quickly falls.

Also not really comforting.

Comrade attempts to push his way past the line, but is stopped by a burly, middle aged man with hair that resembles a large tumbleweed, who yells something no one can understand, but the gist of it is that we should get into line, which Comrade does.

And looking up at those prospectors all lined up, one thing quickly becomes clear: We’re going to be here all day.

Chapter one drip, drip, drip A drop of rainwater landed on my nose. I sat up quick as a flash, startled and shivering.I glanced up at the wooden ceiling, booms of thunder shook my eardrums. There was, as I expected, a leak in the ceiling. I groaned to myself, I thought dad had fixed that leak earlier in the spring. The early spring air was unusually chilly and pierced through my thin nightdress. I shivered and lay back down, trying to get to sleep again. I waited and waited, but sleep didn’t come.

I could hear my sister Margaret snoring softly in the bunk beneath me. Our daddy had built our bed out of wood he got from the fields and we had hay as our mattresses. Another drop landed on my forehead, barely missing my eye. I turned onto my side, the bed creaked loudly and shook violently as if it was going to collapse. It used to scare me at first but I got used to it.

Daddy said when we get rich he would buy us beautiful white framed twin beds with carvings of flowers on the sides. And we would move into a bigger house which would be properly furnished, with two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, and a big yard with pretty flowers growing. We would go to school and have full bellies and three meals everyday, instead of one meal per day of cabbage soup. We would have proper clothes, at least three outfits, and pretty, shiny black shoes like the ones Lizzy’s mom got her. I don’t have a mom, or any of those things yet. Because we’re poor and my mom died when I was a little baby.

My daddy doesn’t like it when I use that word, but it's the best word to describe my family.

But daddy said that’s going to change very soon. Because we are going on a journey to find gold and become rich. I believe him, because my daddy is always right. Margaret doesn’t.

She's fifteen, three years older than me. And she acts like she knows everything. “It's all just a trick!” She said earlier today. “We’re all going to die!” She said dramatically. “Relax Margaret, no ones going to die. Don’t you see? It’s an opportunity! Our only opportunity!” daddy told her. Margaret didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t say anything. We’re leaving tomorrow, before dawn breaks. We’re driving to a place called Chilkoot. It's going to be a couple hours drive to the hotel we’re staying at, Last Hope. I think that’s where we're going to meet the other people.

I turned again as a drop landed on my neck. I flinched. I tossed and turned some more until I finally drifted off into a restless sleep.

“Grace! Wake up! It's time to leave!” “Huh?” I said as I opened my eyes. The sun was too bright, so I closed them again. “Dad’s calling us! We need to go!” The voice said as I felt someone shake my shoulder. I sat up, still drowsy and sleepy. Margaret was already dressed and standing in the doorway. She was wearing her tattered blouse and a blue skirt.

Her best outfit. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun. I hurried out of bed and pulled on my favorite pink, long sleeved dress. It was dirty and stained, but it was the only dress I owned. “Could you pack this into our trunk please?” I asked as I handed her my thin nightdress. Margaret made a face. “Honestly Grace, don’t you ever wash your nightdress? It smells terrible! And is that a cabbage soup stain?” She said as she pointed to a light green spot on the back. “I don’t have any other night dresses, remember? You have two, but I only have one.” I grumbled. Margaret rolled her eyes and hurried out.

I heard dad's voice. “Children! We need to get going!” He called. “I’m already packing up our wagon!” “Coming!” I yelled as I pulled on my white socks that were now brown and my shoes. Before hurrying out, I glanced around our bare bedroom. We had packed all our stuff a few days ago. There wasn’t a lot to pack really, but our room still looked really empty and strange. There was our bed, a small work table, and a wooden dresser. I realized this might be the last time I saw my room. Or it would be weeks, months, or years even, before I saw it again. But I didn’t have enough time to feel sad, because daddy’s loud bellowing voice pierced through my thoughts.

“Grace? Are you coming or not! We’re leaving!” I ran out into the open front door. My dad and Margaret were already outside. Daddy was sitting in the driver's seat of our home-built wagon. It was pulled by Joey, our neighbour's horse. Daddy traded our cow, Miley, and two chickens for him. There was a small area in the back where two trunks that held all of our belongings sat. In the middle there was a big carriage sort of thing where Margaret and I were going to sit. It wasn’t very comfortable, a bench and a white piece of cloth draped over a wooden frame to keep away the wind and rain, but it was ok for a few hours. I scrambled in, sitting on the front bench with my sister. And we took off.

It wasn’t a long drive really, just a couple of hours. But it felt like ages. We passed by deserts, bare forests, small towns, and fields with grazing cows and sheep. It was a cloudy day, clouds floated above us, covering every inch of the grey sky. It started off really chilly, but it got warmer and warmer until I was soaked with sweat. There was nothing to do in the wagon, except argue with your sister or listen to your dad’s awful singing. The worst part was that Margaret won every single argument, like who was going to sit in the middle or if brown cows were cuter than milk cows.

Finally, after the worst few hours of my life, we arrived at Chilkoot. We parked our wagon in front of the Last Hope hotel. It wasn’t very big or fancy, it was a low pink building with a huge sign that read “Last Hope hotel” on it in bold red letters. A man greeted us. He was a quite peculiar man. He seemed to be in his forties, but I couldn’t quite tell. The wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes suggested that he was around 60, but the twinkle in his eye, his grand posture, and his honey coloured hair suggested that he was around 30. He was wearing a heavy green coat despite the burning hot weather. He wasn’t a very tall man, about 6 feet, but something about him seemed to make him taller than he was. He spoke in a booming and somewhat jolly voice. “Ah! You must be John Clarke! Greetings!” He boomed as he shook dad’s hand. Then he glanced at me and Margaret. “And these must be your lovely children!” He said as he smiled at Margaret and patted me on my head. I hated when people did that, it made me feel so little and unimportant. “My name is Conrad Michigan. And I will be guiding you in your journey tomorrow.” “That means he’s my boss,” Dad said to us.

They both laughed, but I didn’t see what was so funny.

After that, Conrad Michigan left and we stepped into the hotel lobby. It was very crowded. So crowded we could barely find the check in desk. But we eventually did and headed up to our room on the third floor. It was tiny. Even smaller than my room back home. With one queen sized bed and a bedside table. There was barely room for us to stand. Conrad Michigan came to check on us a few moments later. “Y'all should get a good night's sleep, we’re leaving first thing tomorrow. We’re going through the Chilkoot pass! Doesn’t that sound exciting?” So Margaret and I shared the bed and dad slept on the floor. We were exhausted after a day's journey and drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

HONK! HONK! HONK! A loud horn pierced through my peaceful sleep. I bolted up, my ears ringing from the sudden blast of sound. Margaret and dad sat up too, rubbing their eyes and stretching.

“Rise and shine people! Rise and shine!” Conrad Michigan bellowed outside our door. We scurried out of bed, not even bothering to brush our teeth. We changed into hiking outfits and put on our bags full with food, drinks, and a bunch of other tools. We met Conrad and the others in the lobby. There were about twenty people, all carrying a bag of some sort. We set off for the chilkoot trail.

The sight was magnificent. A great white mountain looming above us. People climbing up in a single file line. They looked like tiny ants climbing up a huge pile of sugar. It was a sunny day, but still cold and windy.

“All right people! Gather up! Gather up! we’re going to climb in a single file line!” Conrad Michigan shouted through shouts, chatter, and the wind. There were lots of people beneath the mountain, all waiting in line to climb the great Chilkoot path. In search of gold.

“Excuse us sir, we’re trying to get to the chilkoot path, could you please move over?” Conrad Michigan said to the person standing in front of us. He turned around. I uttered a quiet gasp.

He was a burly old man, tall and muscular. That wasn’t the scariest part, he only had one eye. He scowled at us and said in a raspy voice, “Get in line.” He growled. Conrad Michigan looked surprised and took a step back. “Alright, looks like we’ll have to wait for some time.”

He said to us.

Dad hung his arm over me, squeezing me tight. I wasn’t too sure about this Chilkoot trail. It looked scary and dangerous. I buried my nose into my scarf, and wished I were back home.

The Journey to Chilkoot Pass Christina Ye

He dives in for the punch. I swerve, ducking to the side and striking a blow to his ribs. The man winces in pain, violently swearing and getting angrier and angrier. He spits out blood from his mouth. “Do you really think you can beat me? You, a woman?” I don’t answer. To be fair, I hadn’t fought for over a month, and had only got back a month ago. The man laughs, smiling through the bruises lined from his cheeks to his bare chest. He purrs, “No answer, huh? That’s what I thought. Come get me, little b-” Before he could continue, I lunge forward and lock his neck in my elbow. I yank and twist it around, making a painful cracking sound. He screams, but doesn’t stop laughing. He falls to the ground, and stares at the pavement before looking up at me. “You lose,” he croaks. “You lose.” Did I? I’m not the one on the ground, and I’m not the one bleeding head to toe. I walk out of the alleyway, stroking the single bruise on my cheek.

He was getting boring, anyway. ****** The door of the Shilling Pub creaks open as I step inside. The pub’s lighting is completely different from the black scene of the night, bright and flashy. I carefully pull my hood over my raven black hair and I head over to the bar. In the small town of Fort Severn, Ontario, no one knows who I am. Only few know my true identity and have my trust. Drunk men are shouting and bellowing, creating a loud atmosphere inside a relatively small pub.

A guard asks me for my ID. The name is forged, and so is my birthdate, but all the other information is true. He looks at me skeptically. “Nineteen? Alright, you can come in.” I give him a nod and he lets me go on.

A tipsy man, barely over thirty, approaches me and asks, “Miss, you lookin’ good! How bout’ you swing by here tomorrow, and afterwards I’ll bring you back to my loft. Just me and you, I promise.” He grins, tripping over his feet and leaning on a table to catch his fall.

I put on my most seductive smile and reply, “Of course, sir, I’ll make it worth while.” Feeling a little bit adventurous, I tip my black sunglasses that cover my eyes and let him catch a glimpse of me, winking.

“May I ask for your name?” the man said, showing his rotten teeth.

“Sharlene, at your service.” I answer, catching Bree glaring at me from the corner of my eye.

“Well then, Sharlene, I’ll see you soon.”

Finally, he left, and I couldn’t help but smile as I took my seat at a barstool. My bartender friend, Bree, walks up to me and rolls her eyes. “Dang it, Celaena, what name did you use this time?”

“Sharlene. Quite nice, isn’t it?” She’s used to it, watching me charm drunk people into believing I’d go out with them.

“Not really. The usual?”

“Yeah.”

She goes over to prepare a glass of australian chardonnay, and I think about my plans for tomorrow. Bree knows I’m leaving, and we both know it’s for the better. My history in this town could get me kicked out in a minute, so a fresh start sounded perfect. She slides the glass over to me and I take a sip.

“All ready for tomorrow?” she says.

“All packed.”

“Have fun, I guess.”

I snort. “How do you know it’s going to be fun?”

“I don’t, but there’s going to be gold. Make sure you don’t get that ego ahead of you,” she warns.

“I won’t.” Bree gives me a look that says, “Are you sure?”, and I admit, “Fine, maybe I will.”

“Just be careful. I want you coming back alive, okay?”

I roll my eyes and nod, and we talk until I’m done with my drink. I tell her I have to go, and we part our ways with unspoken goodbyes.

I exit the Shilling and enter the freezing rain, running over to the Inn to collect my bags. I make my way to the train station, and recognize every place I had a fight. There’s nothing left for me in this town. Too many fights and too much blood was spilled on my account, and it’s not worth staying anymore. No one complains when I hop onto the train without the guards checking for my ticket. It’s a small town, unsafe, where nobody cares about anyone but themselves, including me. Despite the bloodshed I caused in this city, I’m still going to miss it. I sigh, close my eyes, and let the train move me to the mountains of British Columbia.

The following morning It’s teatime, even at 4:30 AM. I crunch on a biscuit as our employer is giving us a speech about the dangers of Chilkoot and the gold rush. I’m not really paying attention to whatever he’s saying, and have started a conversation with the person beside me. I introduce myself as Sharlene, but the boy tells me, “That’s not your real name.”

A pickpocket. Great. On the train, I was reading a letter our employer, Conrad Michigan, had given me a month ago. It was titled “Dear Celaena”. What a nice way to give away my cover.

The boy doesn’t question me, but instead answers my glare with, “If it helps, my name’s not Percy either.” Huh. How interesting. Maybe this won’t be as boring after all. There are about 15 of us, and for the most part we stay pretty silent as the speech continues.

Conrad continued to mutter some crap about food and the importance of our mission. I get it. Come back with as much gold you can, and you’ll be fine. From outside the window, I watch the Aurora Borealis shimmer and glow, as Conrad shows us a map of Chilkoot. “It’s so narrow you have to walk single file,” he says. It’s the only thing I pick up in the next five minutes. At the top, all the gold waits for us. If this was a four course meal, that’s the part I’d be hungry about. A chance for me to get rich.

I quickly realised I was thinking wrong again, and Bree’s words echo through my brain. This trip isn’t for the gold, it’s for the fresh start. Right?

Last Hope hotel makes for a good shelter, even if this is the last time I’m seeing it, I think, bored. Finally, the Michigan dude is done talking. He mentioned he would only go halfway with us, which I was fine with, I guess. I take some notes on his appearance. He looks around forty, and has a happy-go-lucky personality. People like that tend to be backstabbers.

I wonder what his secret is, and keep in mind not to trust him.

I pulled on a fur coat made for the hike that I picked up at the town’s general store, which cost me a hefty fee. Luckily, it came out of Conrad’s pocket, not mine. He had paid us all in advance, even if it wasn’t nearly enough.

We make it to the foot of Chilkoot, and pass hundreds of people in tents, probably going to climb the summit as well. I knew this journey was going to be hard, but I never really thought it would be this bad. I look up and see a gigantic mountain, already lined with hundreds of

people. Conrad looks surprised, and tells us he didn’t expect so many people so early. At the bottom, there is a line that stretched for at least two hundred metres, and we joined it at the very end.

Conrad was dumb enough to try and scare the man infront of us, who was ten times the size of him and spoke in a rough voice. I was tempted to remind Conrad that this wasn’t the line at a grocery store, but kept my mouth shut. The wind blew in my face, adding to the blizzard of snow. As we got closer and closer to the incline of the mountain, my mood only seemed to get worse and worse. The journey was going to be difficult. I had no idea what I had just got into.

How bad can it be, you ask? You’re about to find out.

Hopi (Emily Wu) It all started with the rumour of some treasure up north in Yukon. Originally, I wasn’t even going to be there. I was going to continue my daily life of trying to get better and trying to connect with my family. In fact, I detested the rumour. I didn’t want some rumour trying to tear my family apart. I could remember how I got into this journey crystal-clear.

It was a normal winter. A nice sunny day of successful hunting, but then the rumour came. In the form of an older fancy man from an… odd culture to say the least.

I wasn’t sure what he did. However, he did something, and too coincidentally to be comfortable, the rumour of a richening and powerful material, gold it was called, was spreading like wildfire.

People were murmuring that it was able to buy clothes and weaponry. I ignored it, I wasn’t interested in things like riches, and I had hoped that my brother would too but I was proven wrong.

“I’m going to get gold.” My brother, Adriel, declared as he stood up on top of a large snow-covered rock. His face was illuminated by the warm sunlight and the fulfillment of breakfast. I watched wide-eyed at the snow and pebbles falling off the stage and landing into the ocean of white. My taste buds turned sour like I was eating rotten flesh instead of the fresh buffalo Adriel hunted.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to get to Dawson City. I’ll be gathering supplies today.”

I looked up in surprise at my brother. He was sporting a cough earlier this morning, how could he go without any fear? What about family? Safety? My mind began racing as I blinked at him.

Confusion blinding my mind.

He had his arms crossed and nose pointed North. Like those large furry wolves sniffing for prey.

As if he could smell the gold. A bubble of nostalgia and hurt burst inside of me when I noticed his expression. He was frowning, but he had a fire in his eyes. He was happy, more excited than he ever was when I tried to hunt with him. I glanced down at a corner in the circular house as the room suddenly felt darker, and colder.

I could feel my parents and tribe smiling up at him, all taking pride in the ambition and sure success of Adriel. Their praises and other declarations of earning gold were drowned out by a high-pitched buzz in my head. I was too busy wishing and hoping that he wouldn’t go, I wanted to continue my years’ worth of work trying to connect with my brother. My mind was screaming at me with the many times he left before, when I was a young child, he was always ahead while I fell behind.

I didn’t want him to leave for some rumour. Especially not a fishy, suspicious one. I shivered, though not from the cold breeze piercing my brown clothing.

I didn’t want to be left alone again. Nor did I want my brother to die of cold. However, I couldn’t just order him to stay, everyone would be mad and just leave. Without me.

So, swallowing my worries, I asked whether I could go with my brother as well, no one heard me. I repeated it again, but it must’ve been too soft since no one heard me. I felt my brother’s dark gaze watch me from the edge of his sharp eyes.

Deciding it was too much, I decided to leave the area, bowing my head and murmuring apologies as I dragged my feet away in the wet snow. Letting my ponytail bob up and down as I shifted my weight between small, slim legs.

Soon I was walking around aimlessly, silently thinking about what to pack for my plan to follow my brother when I heard a yell over the crunching of crisp snow.

“Hey, you there! How would you make your diminutive existence become larger?” I looked up, a man, around 40 years old, was in front of me. My mind noted the man’s heavily coated arm holding out a bundle of clothes and his colonist clothing. Some ruffles, a large rectangular hat and tailcoats above some stockings and breeches.

That was surprising, normally people outside of the tribes didn’t bother learning my language.

The fact that this man, presumably a city-dweller, was proposing an opportunity and speaking in my language, suggested that he was a good person.

I blinked and smiled, deciding to ignore the insult to focus on the main idea.

“What do you mean by making my existence larger?” I paused when the man dramatically gasped and stepped back.

“You don’t know what I mean? Surely even peasants have heard about it. Anyways, my name’s Conrad Michigan, though you can call me Conrad. How would you like to work for me and [company name], Mr...” Mr. Conrad Michigan clapped my back with a flashing smile. Stumbling from the force of the slap, I slipped before catching myself and shrugged off the peasant comment. I was simply glad to have someone beside me and a possible source of information right now.

“Hopi.” I offered my name in return. “Do you mean the rumour of riches up North?” He laughed as he clapped, making booming thunder with his hands.

“You sure are a funny young man! You’re right on the gold! How ‘bout you help me get some gold? I’ll provide the food and necessities if you’re worried about that. I think your poor family would appreciate the money and a source of income, eh?” I nodded, that was true. We were worried about losing our space to city-dwellers who didn’t seem to care for nature. I kept up with the speech in hopes of encouraging Mr. Michigan - no, Conrad I corrected - to continue.

“We’ll be going by train today. Tomorrow, we shall cross Chilkoot Pass and go on a trek. If you’re going with me young lad, which I recommend, you’ll probably get a hefty amount.” I was nodding along, allowing him to ramble on about the riches. It wouldn’t hurt to let the man continue to his heart’s content, he was providing insight as to what my brother was doing and why.

However, there was one thing I couldn’t shake. Doubt. Why should this seemingly wealthy man want to hire me? I decided to ask him, surely he enjoys questions, considering how much he talks.

“Why are you asking me of all people to work for you? Wouldn’t this be more suited to someone with more strength? Why go all the way here when you can ask the city?” Mr. Conrad laughed again, his ruffles blowing like a wagging tail, making me smile with how cheerful he seemed. It was always nice to see others happy.

“Hopi, my boy, I want someone who’s hard working. You seem like you’re willing to put effort and smart.” His face turned serious, the atmosphere dropped and the wind became colder. “There aren’t many people who would work as hard as you. You and your kind manage to survive outside in the wilderness throughout the year, and I want someone who can be quick outside on their feet. That’s partially why I learned to speak in some Native languages!”

I stood there, blinking as my mind buzzed like one of those communication devices. He smiled, a softer one this time, and threw an arm around me.

“Well, I’ll be heading to the store. Now, wanna join me for a portion of riches?” I bite my lip and consider my choices.

Either I head back home and face the disappointment and confusion of my family, or I could make our family proud and happy. Shame floods me at the thought of being a disappointment again. There was also the possibility that brother wouldn’t even be there, he probably was searching for materials and food to prepare for his own trip. He was doing his part to keep our family safe, I wanted to do the same.

If I took the risk of joining Mr. Conrad, I would help make money for my family. Help my family keep our territory, have the connection that I’ve always wanted. I salivated at the thought. Sure, there was some danger, but I wanted to do something for my family. I was always lagging behind the group. I opened my mouth, but before I could say my affirmation to the offer, a loud, rumbling voice shook the floor.

You’re going to end up dead and failing. Images of the many times I failed my duty to hunt, chase or fell behind came into focus.

I sighed, staring at the slippery ice below my furry moccasins. Maybe I didn’t have what it took to survive up North…. Or to get one of those close families he saw in other tribes. Soon, tears started to blur my vision. A gloved hand patted my back and I shook my clammy hands before throwing them back by my sides in fists.

I frowned at the difficulty I was going to see in the foreseeable future. Frost, climbing, hunting... many obstacles were in front of me. I turned to Mr. Conrad, then where my home was, back to Mr. Conrad, and nodded resolutely. I was going to the North for my family. No matter what.

“I’m going with you.”

He nodded, an upward tilt of a smile.

“Alright, lad. Let’s go.”

We walked forward into the unknown. Taking the train, preparing for the next day as I bombarded Mr. Conrad with questions surrounding the mechanics. All of which were answered though he did slow down. He also gave me the general supplies needed for the journey. A large sum of money, a pickaxe, dark brown boots, gloves, a faded blue coat, a map, many cartons of food and a backpack with a sleeping bag.

Soon we had reached Chilkoot and stopped by a hotel called “Last Hope” to rest for the night.

Although I had first been against the exorbitant purchase, Mr. Conrad had pushed and eventually I had to give in. Otherwise, I would be alone for the first time in the darkness.

Besides, the sun had set and both of us were craving some warmth and shelter for the night.

Despite a few confusing language barriers, I quickly managed to order a cup of warm tea and delectable biscuits, though I couldn’t quite burn the voice in my head trying to convince me that Adriel and my tribe were out there, dying of hypothermia, it did soothe my numb toes and racing heart.

I yawned as I stretched the tension away from my sore body, slightly cringing at the snap of bone. Glimpsing over at Mr. Conrad, I see the bedsheet moving up and down like a wave. He was snoring, I snickered, the loud racket might as well be an earthquake. Seeing him and his spunky-albeit-rude person reminded me of the possibility he opened to me. A way to help and connect with my family. Smiling at the prospect of what could lay in the future with friends and family, I went under the warm, cotton blanket of bliss and sighed.

Perhaps this will be the thing that I can do to make others happy.

Somehow, that thought managed to wash away my worries around the long trek ahead of everyone like a waterfall. Shortly, my eyes closed as my mind drifted with happy possibilities.

Fun Fact! Hopi’s brother (Adriel)’s name means symbol of skill. It could also mean beaver in native american but I decided to go with skill. Just to push the protagonist (Hopi)’s point of view that he needs to prove himself (hence the journey) to help his family. He always sees his brother succeeding where he struggles, the gold mine is his attempt to help their situation. XD Bonus: Hopi = “peaceful person”. This is referencing his distaste towards arguing, and his future struggle to try and keep his peace with the others. (Either with their constant fights, or with his internal fight to push through in the north) There’s another name at some point later. This is the link I use for all the names I add: https://www.familyeducation.com/75-native-american-names-for-your-little-one It may not be professional, but there really is no professional website for indigenous communities. I tried my best ^^;; Native-American Vocabulary (I searched on the internet): Agidohi: A-gi-do-hi, [meaning ‘brother’]

Gold Rush

By Ada and Ronald RONALD PART:One day, news broke out at our town about gold at Dawson City. I wanted money from this. I had yelled at my mom, “LET’S GO LET’S GO WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” I knew my mom would want to go because our whole family was money hungry. You see, I was 17 and just shy of 18 at that time and I loved spending money. I hated when people would give me cheap gifts. My whole family was the same.

We all wanted the money. A lot, but we were all lazy. I had an easy job to move gravel and most of the time I didn’t show up to work. This gold rush was huge for us all. But was it worth it? Probably. At the time I lived in America with my dad, mom, and brother.

We did not have the money to go. We all took all our life savings to get a ticket to a ship.

It was the only way we could go. However, this journey took a few weeks. This was not a fun journey, as we heard news of ships sinking. We decided to take our chances and go on. Then, the journey began.

Sailing in bad weather is not ideal and seasickness is a big problem. If you ever tried to sail in bad weather, you would understand my pain. Then, things got worse. In our hurry, our family had forgotten to pack items! That's when we met a rich man named Conrad Michigan. He was very rich and knew we were also here for the gold and the money. He offered us some money to go there and get some gold for him. He said that he had a lot of people who were going to go for him and he paid pretty well. We decided to do it. I do not want to bore you with details of us sailing but it was VERY boring. It also cost us a lot for the food because the prices were very high.

We finally finished the trip and had to rest and Conrad had booked us a nice hotel but it cost a lot. This was the first and last night we would spend in the hotel called the Last Hope. The name was pretty creepy and the prices were very high. This was probably because we could die on this trip. Conrad arranged a trail called the Chilkoot pass. This after him telling us we knew was very dangerous. But we were up to the challenge.

Conrad gave us a long speech about the long journey ahead.

Today was a big day. We would cross the Chilkoot pass. It was a treacherous journey and only one person could walk on the trail and the others had to follow behind. This trail was full of rocks and snow and was very slippery. It was very cold and a blizzard had just started. We managed to avoid it. We used ice picks to climb up and reached the top in a day. This was just the beginning. And I couldn’t stand it.

ADA PART: When I found out about the gold rush at Dawson City, I immediately decided that I wanted this chance to make money. At this time, I had turned 16 a few months ago.

My family is known for hunting, so I figured that it wouldn’t be too hard to survive in the North. My family wasn’t doing bad money wise, but we could be doing better. This Gold Rush event was the perfect chance to get more money.

We lived on the far east of British Columbia, so it wasn’t too difficult to obtain an effective transportation method. Our family consisted of 4 people: me, my mom, my dad, and my brother. I decided that the quickest and cheapest way to get across the province would be to get a ticket to a train. The morning that we decided to leave, I had packed all of my belongings in a bag and was ready to go. My family wasn’t nearly as excited as me. They took almost a whole hour to get their bags and go. When we finally got ready to board the bus, it had already left. We had to come up with a different way to get to Chilkoot. The only option we had was to ride a horse there. I yelled at my family to run faster so we wouldn’t be the last ones to arrive at Chilkoot. My brother was starting to get tired, but I didn’t care. It was my responsibility to get everyone to Chilkoot in time. If I failed, we wouldn’t be able to get the money.

On the way back to our little house, we met a man named Conrad Michigan. He was known for his money and I quickly told him that we were participating in the gold rush and informed him of our problem. He had a solution for us. He offered to give us a few horses and some money in exchange for some of the gold that we would get. I was desperate to go, so I agreed.

When we were heading to Chilkoot, it was a long, tedious journey. I was glad that I had packed a bit of food on the way there, because all of the food was out of our budget. The trip took a long time, because we had a long way to travel. On the journey, we ate small animals that we caught. There wasn’t much food.

After the trip, Conrad booked a hotel for us called “The Last Hope”. I thought that the name was a little strange, but I decided to make the most of it since it was the only night that we would be spending here. That night, I couldn’t sleep. I knew that this journey would be tough and I knew that I needed to rest. I stayed up for most of the night thinking about the journey ahead of us. I think that I only got about 2 hours of sleep that night, because when I woke up, it was still pretty dark outside.

This is the day when we had to cross the Chilkoot pass. I was anxious for the day ahead of me. I didn’t know if my family would be able to cross the Chilkoot Pass, we would have to wait and see. Conrad arranged the trail for us ahead of time and he described it to us already. From his description, it sounded like I was going to die. I really hoped that I would be able to cross it, I didn’t want my family to go on without me.

When we got to the base of the mountain, I realized that this might have been a terrible idea. The mountain looked like it was a kilometer high. It was too late to turn back now though, I had to cross the pass. I saw so many people there as well. Conrad

had said that there were almost 100,000 people who wanted to take part in the gold rush. Now that I saw all the people, I had another job to do, to make sure my family and I were staying together on the trail. I didn’t want to leave anyone behind.

The mountain was full of snow and seemed menacing. The mountain was full of ice too, but luckily, Conrad gave us some ice picks to make the climb up easier. About halfway up the mountain, I started freezing. I looked behind me to my family and they looked like they were cold too. We all had proper winter gear, but the cold wind made the climb so much more difficult. We moved up the mountain slowly, but eventually finished the journey.

Colena Shan 1896

MY CHARACTER Hello. My name is Colena. I really don’t know how to start this off—but I’m just writing about what happened in 1896 and what I did then. If you know your history, you would know that the Klondike Gold Rush happened in that year. Before we get started, let me tell you more about myself.

I like talking, shouting, and wasting time. I guess “wasting time” is something weird to like, but my life is boring right now so there’s nothing to do but wait for my death to come so it’s not so boring anymore. I don’t like being reasonable (too bad I’m reasonable all the time ☹) because I don’t think reason would lead us anywhere. I have one flaw that doesn’t bother me much but I still think it’s worth mentioning here. I’m a bit absent-minded, like one second I would have something I want to do, next second I forgot already what I wanted to do. It’s sort of like forgetting a dream you just had less than 2 seconds ago.

I was born on September 4, 1880 (somewhere in the Yukon), and until my tenth birthday, I guess I was a “normal(?)” kid. On my tenth birthday, I somehow became colorblind (I’m not sure how to this day because most people are born colorblind and they get it from their parents, and my parents weren’t colorblind, they actually both had great eyesight). It was sort of confusing, but I learned to detect things by their scent (my nose became rather sensitive after I became colorblind).

When I was eleven years old, my parents died (I don’t know why, I was too young to understand at the time).

I sort of raised myself with their money and if I was bored with nothing to do, I would sometimes look for money around the house I lived in (you would not believe how careless people who walked around that area were, dropping money everywhere).

KLONDIKE GOLD RUSH Now let’s talk about 1896. Sixteen-year-old me was packing my bags for an adventure I could die on. The Klondike Gold Rush was happening, and since I was so bored, any adventure would suit me fine. Plus, I got a chance to strike it rich on the way! I was already used to the cold weather and I had many coats. I made sure I had enough rations to last me probably 10-20 days before reaching a hotel where I could rest. I had found plenty of coins the day before, which would hopefully be enough to afford me a room at the hotel on the way.

The journey was not easy. I didn’t have a tent, so when it was dark, I would just spread out some of my coats on the ground, lie down, and sleep. Sometimes when I wasn’t so tired, I would keep trekking for the entire night.

I’d gone through most of my rations faster than I expected, so sometimes I’d go days without food, only drinking water when my throat was completely dry.

Some days later, I finally reached a hotel. I met a random guy in a tweed cloak at the entrance. He seemed to be in his mid-40s but I couldn’t tell for sure. I said “Hello” politely, expecting him to just ignore me, but then he said, “Hello! Conrad Michigan at your service! What’s your name?” I raised my eyebrows. This guy sounded really weird and stupid (no offense, Conrad).

“My name is Colena,” I said after a few moments of silence.

Conrad Michigan shook my hand and I saw a slip of paper in my hand. His contact info? Pretty rare to have any then, but I just slipped it into one of my coat’s pockets.

He then gave me a veeeeeeery long speech which I absolutely did not pay attention to, but he basically “hired(?)” me to go to this hotel called Last Hope (a rather depressing name for a hotel) to meet with a bunch of other people. Conrad told me he wanted me to go with them to find gold and stuff. He paid me in advance for all the food, clothes, and gear I needed, and I sighed.

Who on Earth hires random people and pays them in advance for their job?

“We shall take what nature deems us worthy to take!” Conrad said happily when he finished his speech.

“Just one question,” I said.

“Yes?” Conrad said.

“Why would you hire me? I’m only sixteen,” I said.

“Well—I’ll see you a few days! Good-bye!” he said, totally ignoring my question (that was RUDE) and he put on a hat that I had not seen earlier and disappeared outside.

*** I figured that I probably should go to the Last Hope since I had nothing better to do, plus, it might be fun, meeting other people (I’m not the social type, but I don’t hate people for no reason either). I booked a room at this

hotel (it was pretty expensive, but the Front Desk guy said I wouldn’t regret it, and he also reminded me that it might be the last bed I slept in), slept for one night, regained my energy, and continued my trek to the Last Hope.

Two days later, I saw a few people also going in the direction of Last Hope, probably other people Conrad hired. I kept my distance from them, because a lot of them seemed to not like socializing, and that was fine by me.

Three days after that, I reached the Last Hope. A night in a room for this hotel was even more expensive than the first hotel, but with Conrad Michigan’s money, I had enough. I booked a room for a few days, since the other people Conrad hired would probably take more time to reach this place.

My room was medium-sized, with a couple of candles on the table. The room was filled with a creepy, greenish glow, and all night I was uneasy.

At 4:30 A.M. on one random morning, I found myself in a similar room as the one I slept in. All the other people Conrad hired were there. A lot of them did not like socializing. Rachael, Christina, Angela, Ada, Jerry, Emily, Ronald, Chelsea, Bryant, Curtis, Jocelyn and Cynthia were their names. I sort of became acquaintances (is that how you spell it?) with Rachael.

Conrad Michigan was there too. He smiled at some of us and immediately gave us another speech.

“Well,” he said, “I’d expected more than a few of you to go home like cowards [insert complete nonsense]…still, I’d expected less people here, a lot of them would’ve given up. [insert even more nonsense]…I’ll bring you down to the Chilkoot Pass, which is so narrow only one person can go at a time, which is why we’re going so early, so you can be at the front. Anyway, as I was saying, I’ll come with you to the Chilkoot Pass—or the Golden Staircase since at the top there is a lot of gold just lying there to be picked up. And then I’ll leave you, and rejoin you after a few days…any questions?”

“How long will this entire expedition thing take?” I asked.

“It depends on you guys. I’d say…a couple of months,” replied Conrad Michigan. “But no worries, you’ll have enough food…[insert nonsense]” Conrad Michigan led us outside, where a lot of people were packing up their tents and stuff.

“See!” he said confidently. “These guys are gonna take hours tidying up and packing. We’re up and early so you can be at the front of the line! We’re so early, the sun isn’t up yet.”

That’s not saying much, since the sun rises much later in the day this far north, I thought to myself.

“Well—I don’t really think they’ll take hours,” I muttered. “And I also think hundreds of people are ahead of us.”

Conrad turned the corner, and I saw Chilkoot Pass for the first time. The pathway was narrow, and, just like I predicted, a lot of people were already climbing.

I saw some of Conrad’s confidence go away, but he just walked up to a guy in front of us and said, “Er…excuse us please, we’re going to the Chilkoot Pass to get gold!”

“Um—that guy’s probably The guy in front of us turned around. He was probably a few years older than Conrad, with a grey beard.

“Geddim line, s’om and aye,” he grunted. It took me three full minutes to figure out he said, “Get in line, so am I.”

“Oh, um, *ahem*, okay,” said Conrad. Then he turned to us.

“Remember, you have enough food for the mission. I’ll rejoin you in—if I can—” Then he put on his coat, turned, and ran away.

“All of his assumptions have so far been wrong,” I said to myself. “So this is gonna be harder than I expected.”

Cynthia L The sun rose high up in the sky. My family and I went down the creaky stairs of our hotel, called the Last Hope. I didn’t know why the hotel owners decided to call it such a depressing name, but it’s better not to interfere. If it had any meaning behind it, I would rather not know the answer. We had breakfast in the guest room, then packed our things. Suddenly, a man swooped in and said that he was an expert in these busy streets, and we would probably need him to guide us through. And the offer was free! “By the way, my name is Conrad Michigan, but you can call me Mike,” he said. My parents glanced at each other excitedly.

“It’s...,” My mom hesitated, “Free?”

“Yep, seems like it,” said Mike.

“Ok, Mike. We need to get to Chilkoot Pass. Can we trust you on that?” asked my mom.

“Well, of course, madam. Follow me.”

We followed Mike down the long winding streets of Yukon and bought supplies and warm blankets to help us with who-knows-what. All this time, Mike was staring at us with a hungry look in his eye. It was a bit unnerving, and I tried to shake the feeling of being watched every move off my back.

Finally, we got to Chilkoot Pass. People flooded in from everywhere, and you could easily get lost in the crowd. Fortunately, my family stuck together until we got to a not-so-packed area.

“Alright everyone, I have to leave now to help...guide…people…” mumbled Mike, and walked off.

“Right… did he say he was going to leave us here...IN THE MIDDLE OF ALL THESE PEOPLE?!” I grumbled.

“Well no, but we don’t need him anyway.” my dad replied. He pointed to an unbelievably high mountain in front of us.

“Look, all we have to do is GET OVER that mountain, there’s more than a ton of gold waiting for us at the end!” he rubbed his hands together with glee.

“If we get at least some of that gold, we would be rich! We won't starve anymore! It’s no use hearing about the gold rush and not taking advantage of it!”

I stopped and let my mind process that thought. At first, it sounded quite good, but the more I thought about it, the more impossible it started to get.

“Umm...that sounds fine, but, I would be dead by then.” My mom, who obviously heard the conversation between us, chuckled and said, “We’ll see.” I forced a smile on my face. By that time, my brain cells were like, “Nah, definitely not going to survive this one.” All of a sudden, I felt people moving. No, not moving. They were racing towards the mountain like kingfishers flying to their prey.

Chilkoot Pass by:Curtis Yang Today is the last day before I head to Chilkoot Pass. I have heard many things about it possibly having treasure which is the reason that I originally set out for this trip. My family is at an all time low financially, my dad is a baker and my mom is jobless. I have 2 brothers and 1 sister who is extremely sick with a cure that our family can’t afford. I am the oldest of the children and I have decided to set off to find money for Chilkoot Pass. I heard this Chilkoot rumor from Conrad Michigan whom I overheard talking while begging for money. I asked him more about it but he said that was all he knew. I left on foot, because we had no money to afford any other way of transportation, the only money I had was to stay a day at “Last Hope” which was a very new experience for me with many upgrades than at home. I had to carry many things in a huge backpack which was even harder since I was to walk on foot, but in the end I arrived.

The Klondike Gold Rush (1896-1899) When gold (Element 79 on the table of Elements [Au]) was discovered

by George Carmack, his wife, and her brother in the Canadian territory of Yukon, in the Klondike region, the news reached Seattle and San Francisco, triggering a stampede of an estimated 100,000 prospectors. Most went in vain, and few reached their goal. Many died, and only around 30,000 to 40,000 eventually made it to the Klondike region.

Here is my story, of many who made it, and of many who didn’t.

Of hardships of those who suffered, and of triumphs of those who made it. And I shall tell it through someone, who had also been driven by greed for riches as many had, and perhaps they shall make it, perhaps not (that was horribly cringe I’m sorry).

Rachael Thursday, October 1, 1896 Hello, It’s my first time writing a journal, so I think I should introduce myself (lol I follow the tradition of introducing myself to a journal). My name is Rachael (if you can read you would have seen it above the date but whatever), and I’m a sixteen-year-old Métis, with Tagish heritage. I live in a village near Skagway, and my parents died when I was young.

Our journey begins in Yukon, Skagway to be exact. I had never lived a luxurious life, nor had I lived with malnourishment, but this time was a particularly hard one - I was seeking for wealth myself, and I jumped at the chance for gold and riches. And all it started was with a man.

The man had a heavy overcoat, and looked weary, as if he had not slept for days. “I need someone,” he said, and I gave him a blank stare that could not be understood by him. “For what?” I asked, for I was unwilling to go with someone without reason.

“Gold,” he said, “I need you to get me gold.”

“Where?” I asked, though I was sure that I already knew where. The news had arrived a few days earlier - gold had been discovered by a man named George Carmack in the Klondike region of Yukon Territory.

“The Klondike region,” he replied.

“Why would I need to get you gold?” I asked.

“I’ll pay you,” he said bluntly.

“I’ll do it,” I said.

He handed me a piece of paper that read: WAGNER & ASSORTED CHILDREN INC. ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF RESPONSIBILITY

ISSUED BY MR. CONRAD MICHIGAN, MANAGING DIRECTOR OF GLOBAL PROCUREMENT OF WAGNER & ASSORTED CHILDREN INC. The signee of the contract (henceforth referred to as the signee) agrees that: 1. [PLACEHOLDER] (henceforth referred to as ”the company”) shall issue the sum of 2000 United States Dollars (henceforth referred to as the “$”), of which the signee may spend on their choice.

2. The company shall not arrange lodgings for the signee, however the signee is recommended to stay with other contract holders from the company.

3. The signer shall pay no less than one-third of any gold retrieved to the company, up to $10 000 or 526.9 troy ounces of gold paid to the company.

4. The signee pleads guilty to robbery of the amount withheld from the company in the event the signee does not fulfill his obligation under Title 3 of this contract.

5. The company shall cover all medical expenses incurred by the signee.

6. The company shall only honour Title 5 of the contract under the condition that the signee may prove any event where Title 5 was evoked was not evoked by a measure of willful self harm.

7. The signee shall receive shares of the company equal to ½ of the value of gold paid to the company. The shares allocated will be rounded to the nearest whole number and shall be issued in the value at the time of the registration of delivery.

I agree with all the conditions outlined above. (Sign name) ________________ Signee’s signature

I hesitated, then signed: Rachael Zhou. I did not know that I shouldn’t have done that - I had no sense that it was a dangerous journey, and I did not care that others had died along the way (yuh I was stupid).

I set off early the next morning, to a train station that would take me to British Columbia. The train was billowing steam from its piston, its wheels squeaking on the railroads. It pulled into the station, and I stepped into the carriage.

As I traveled, I wondered about whether this was really a good idea (that was pointless). I arrived in British Columbia a few days later, and travelled north to Yukon. I reached Dawson City, paid for the hotel expenses (which were horribly expensive - the hotel receptionist said that it might be the last comfortable place I ever stayed in, so I paid it [quite unwillingly]).

The next morning, I woke up quite early, and waiting there for me was the man who ‘recruited’ me. He introduced himself as ‘Conrad Michigan’, which is quite a weird name to be honest. He gave an extremely boring speech of which during I was looking out of a window absent-mindedly, not as if I was usually like that.

Along with a group of people whom I did not know, and I assumed had come from various places (and ‘Conrad Michigan’), we went outside, and headed towards what was known as Chilkoot Pass. Chilkoot Trail was a route from Dyea, and about 15 minutes away was Skagway. Its highest point was Chilkoot Pass, where it was 1,067 m above sea level. It wasn’t the most dangerous thing in the world, of course, but avalanches could bring people skidding down it. I knew this because I had been near here before, and viewed it from afar (I know that that doesn’t really explain how I know the exact amount of meters but that is irrelevant because I say so).

Somehow I spotted someone who looked particularly familiar. I realized that that was Colena, whom I had become acquainted with. ‘Conrad Michigan’ led us to the beginning of the trail, and I was not surprised to see hundreds of people climbing up the mountains. ‘Conrad Michigan’ said something about thinking they were early. He said something to the person in front of us, and the burly man turned around and said something loudly that just sounded like: “Yah blah guh lah yeah.” (at least to me).

It was chilly - well more like freezing, and it felt like whatever I wore would always bring the cold in. I had become accustomed to the cold of Skagway, but this was nothing like it. A cold wind blew, its chilling blow whistling in my ears. I shivered, as snow fell and practically blinded my vision.

There were perhaps thousands of men there, I knew, and I couldn’t help but think how in the world the people who were farthest as the eye could see down the trail got there. Snow was not unusual in Yukon or Alaska, but thick blizzards such as this one were really quite annoying. It was April, and I wondered why in the world I was doing this now because people who had common sense that went places like this would wait until May, when the ice broke. I started to wonder if ‘Conrad Michigan’ was an idiot (and I was skeptical that he had any knowledge of geography - clearly it’s quite cold in Yukon).

“What the heck are you asking me to do?” I muttered to myself, starting to regret the fact that I had accepted. There were so many things to wonder about, but the place that this ‘Conrad Michigan’ got his knowledge about Yukon was clearly uncredible.

SESSION TWO

Welcome to the Yukon

Jocelyn, CHAPTER 2: WELCOME TO THE YUKON Hiking up to the base of the pass took much longer than I had originally anticipated. It took a whole 1 hour just to get a proper view of Chilkoot pass and another hour and a half to actually arrive at the base. When the thick clouds finally parted, I saw a massive shadow looming ahead. By the looks of it, the pass was so narrow that probably only one person would be able to pass at a time. At this rate, it would take a whole day or 2 to get past.

Sighing, I lifted my gloved hand up to my brows. That was not the only problem I had at the moment. You see, Conrad had warned me to go as soon as possible but I on the other hand decided to laze around till noon. Now, I’ve got no choice but to wait for the people on top to get a move on. I’ve really got to change that lazy habit of mine.

I spent the next 30 or so hours hiking up. The higher I went, the steeper the mountain got. It got to the point where I had to literally begin rock climbing. Thankfully the air didn’t get as thin so I was able to make it to a clearing safe and sound. Somehow during my journey up, I was able to slither around through the line shortening my journey by half. I guess having a small figure isn’t all that bad.

Also I met up with a group of people who were supposedly also sent by Conrad Michigan.

I guess that’s a plus. We arrived at the top, we saw a man dressed in a not so thick jacket and had a ragged hat. Somehow, one of his gloves fell off leaving one of his hands red from the cold. His face was somewhat purple and his eyes were half open showing a confused expression. However, no matter how much we waved or yelled at him, he remained unresponsive. In the end, someone named Rachael from our group decided to take him down the mountain to receive medical care. I was not such a kind person and decided to continue my climb up.

Anyways, the road at the very top of the pass was blocked off by the heavy snow. It took some time, but we managed to get through.

The other side of Chilkhoot pass was much more green and misty. A meandering river slithered through the evergreen colored forest giving off a rainforest feel. It was much more lively here. The birds were chirping and the crickets were singing. A wild deer leaped gracefully through the forest causing the leaves to sway gently in the breeze.

“What a lovely and peaceful place to be?” I thought to myself. At least that was before I heard 2 pairs of loud galloping hooves coming this way. As they drew closer, I could make out them wearing red jackets with brown hats. That was when I recognized them. They weren’t

just your average horse riders. They were Mounties! But before I could say anything, someone from my group had already shot a round of rifles at them, scaring the 2 away. I smacked my forehead with a gloved hand and decided it was best to keep quiet.

Further down the road, I heard a high pitched scream. Suddenly, a somewhat messy haired woman emerged from the forest. She claimed that her sister was in trouble and begged us for assistance. The others quickly decided to follow her. I sighed. I could smell trouble from the woman. This was clearly a trap laid out to lure us somewhere and rob us.

Any reasonable person would be able to tell from her dagger-like stare and sly smile after we agreed. It was obviously an act. This is just like a scene from my novel! Unwilling, I decided it would be better to go with them as it was safer in number.

As I emerged onto the clearing, I saw my group mates standing in the center with a group of people whom I assume are bandits from their hostile behaviour. Before I knew what was happening, my trigger happy group mate had yet again decided to shoot before asking only to anger the bandits even more. Was I the only rational one here? Quickly, we made a break for the tree line. In the process, I got shot in the side of my stomach. I hadn’t experienced this kind of pain in a long time! We didn’t even have proper medical care with us.

I’m starting to regret not going down the mountain with Rachael. This was starting to become my worst trip in years!

Anyhow, we somehow managed to get away with Rachael who just joined us. Welcome to the Yukon they say.

During my journey so far, I figured out a few things. Firstly, things are worth much more on this side of the pass. Secondly, accidents and robberies are pretty common. Apparently, a lot of people are trigger happy as well...that sent shivers down my spine. Lastly, never trust pretty women running around asking for help in the forest (not that I ever did). Well that sums up just about it! I really can’t wait to get out of here!

Of course, many other “interesting” things happened along the way. But after days of traveling in mucky mud and insect filled forests, seeing Dawson city up ahead on the horizon was all that mattered to me.

Dear Diary,

April 13, 2021

Hello, we are currently at the bottom of Chilkoot Path, hundreds of people passing us, we’re reading to go onto the mountain. So many people are climbing the mountain, pretty nerve wracking. We climb the mountain. I mean, I’m usually a pretty strong person, but climbing that mountain was really difficult. Heavy boots, coldness as we trek through hard, slippery snow. As we mount up, it’s really cold, to the point where I’m not sure it’s even cold anymore. Breezes of wind brush my hair through my face as we climb up the slippery mountain. We walk and I see out of the corner of my eye, a man, walking towards us on the mountain. I found him quite an odd person, I’m not too sure though, it did seem like I was hallucinating. We had a conversation with this man, then we continued trekking up the mountain. We walk as we see another person, sitting down, breathing heavily. Each one of us, we walk, but we walk past him. Actually no, Rachael decided to help him. She went over to him, and helped the guy as we all continued to walk past him.

We look at the valley from Chilkoot Path, green trees, forests, it looks incredible. We go on our road to Dawson City, the temperature is pretty damp and fresh. Suddenly, hearing bushes rumbling, we spot a deer. With people constantly shooting, certain people get injured, meaning that all noises are now gone. We then move past certain people, pitching our camp. As we continue, we see a woman, approaching us, screaming. She tells us that her sister got injured and that immediately we need to go help. Though we were skeptical, we ended up going, seeing the concerned look on her face. We make our way over to her and constantly keep on going and going. The woman keeps on telling us to follow her and at this point I knew we were in great danger. However, I kept on going, hoping that it was true. There are people in the forest. We had been tricked I thought as gunshots were fired. Most of us all had gotten injured, mine being one of the worst. I clenched my breath as a bullet fired and went through my chest. I’m going to be honest, it was one of the worst pain in my whole life. However, we did end up arriving at Dawson city! Overall though, yes, this has been terrible, an absolute nightmare.

I hope I don’t die, Angela

Bryant Z. Wednesday, September 1 Cont...

On my way up the mountain, I would like to remark how peculiar this fellow Colena is. She’s a rather young lass and not easily frightened. Unfortunately, a side effect of that is that she is a little too bold, bordering on reckless.

In fact, our trek up the mountain was a great time to learn the names of our party and find a few of their characteristics.

We have Colena, and Rachael, one of Colena’s acquaintances who is bright and charming, but easily unnerved. There is Jerry, a burly man who never is unnerved with anything, but who’s brains you should not wager on. Jerry also seems to have a sidekick, Curtis, a well -rounded, charming man. There is also Emily, brilliant, slightly built and charming, but easily scared and as such, slightly timid. There definitely are others, but I was unable to get their names in our ascent.

As we get closer and closer to the summit, the snow becomes slippery from the thousands of souls who previously ascended it.

Thank goodness Comrade took care to buy us some shoes with spikes underneath, although he did use a substantial portion of our money. No regrets though.

We can now see a haggard-looking man slowly descending. Colena talks with him, and at one point the man grabs his knife, and at another point, winces. Finally, he starts walking again, and Jerry waves to him. The man waves back, but looks obviously uncomfortable. I wonder what Colena did to him.

Weird lass.

As we make it to the peak, I look back, and behind us is no longer the long line of hundreds of people. There are easily several thousand, and they stretch past our hotel. Little dots with a tiny stick walk along the route, presumably soldiers or policemen with rifles trying to keep the peace. Then the line slows down. Colena and Rachael are now gawking at a probably dead man.

Colena stoops down and checks his pulse, then hears his breathing. Then Rachael picks him up and walks back down the mountain, glancing at us. We continue along as Rachael takes a length of string and uses that to create a makeshift stretcher.

Smart.

When we finally make it down the mountain, the group walks into a forest along a dirt trail. After a few minutes, there’s a rustle, and out pops a brown spike. Then pops out the head of a deer, munching on a small green thing, 300 metres away. As it’s never a bad idea to add to your food stores, I grab my rifle, load it, deactivate the safety catch, push the bolt into place, take aim and…

Colena lets out a piercing scream, which causes the deer to drop it’s food and bolt as I squeeze the trigger. Flames and lead shoot out of the barrel with a crack and the bullet hits the area where the deer’s stomach was. The real deer is 50 yards away, and quickly recedes into the distance, and fades away with the foliage a few seconds later.

Colena is stupid.

After a few more miles along the trail, hoofbeats ring out in the distance. I scatter into the leaves and bushes with the rest of the group, save for Jerry and Curtis, who load their pistol and rifle, respectively, and point them out of the end of the trail.

I will confess that the hoofbeats did have me worried, and I too loaded my weapon and poked it out of a large bush. Then two figures in red cloaks rounded the path and came into sight.

“Woah!”, yells the first. The second says “identify yourselves!”. I knew these are the Canadian RCMP, or “mounties”, but Jerry and Curtis don’t. Curtis’ rifle snaps, sending out a bullet which strikes the second one square on the shoulders. A few inches to the right and the bullet would have exited through the neck. The victim turns his horse on it’s heel and promptly gallops away, leaving behind a trickle of blood. Then the first one cocks his revolver and fires at Curtis, who dives. Dirt scatters a few inches from his feet while Jerry loads his revolver, quickly takes aim, and fires at the mountie, who has just let out a second round of shot that whizzes between Curtis’ legs. Jerry’s shot takes the mountie by surprise and in the stomach, and he nearly falls off his horse, though he smartly resaddles and trots off, leaving another trail of blood. They round the corner, and, half a minute later, screams pierce through another part of the trees.

A few minutes later, we come to a small military encampment with uniformed Canadians holding rifles. A sergeant advises us to be careful. “Gotta be careful of them bandits. Shot up a girl then shot up two of us mounties”. Jerry and Curtis look at each other and smile. The sergeant doesn’t notice, and bids us farewell.

Bryant .Z Hoi, denk ik Saturday, September 11 The sky is now draped in a brilliant pink, orange and yellow from the setting sun as we meet a woman who is wrapped in shawls. She sees us and croaks “oh please help me! My sister is injured right over there. Please please help me!”. The group stops and considers the proposition. Most of the older ones, including me, decide not to trust the old woman. We’d heard about the bandits in this place, hoping to profit off of hapless prospectors. But Colena wins out with the support of the younger ones, and we decide to set off and help the lady. She keeps gesturing to a thicket of trees and saying “just a little further!” while I start to wonder what her “sister” was doing in this part of the forest. Then she runs off, and a commanding male voice booms.

“Alright fellers! Drop some o’ yer items in the middle of thar clearin’ or drop dead. Think of it as a toll” (snickers) Colena is stupid.

We debate amongst ourselves what we should do. Emily argues for prudence and to drop a few items in the clearing. Jerry and Curtis argue for shooting them up. And Colena does not argue but instead fires her bow (odd choice of weapon) indiscriminately into the trees, to the great amusement of our tormentors. Chelsea sprints out and drops a bottle of ketchup in the clearing, which elicits a cry of great relish from the bandits. Jerry fumbles with a rag and whisky to make an incendiary device. Curtis loads his rifle and unlocks the safety catch. Emily would rather not see us shoot, but really, can she stop Jerry and Curtis?

Then, Jerry gets tired of his efforts to make a bomb, brings his whiskey out into the middle of the clearing, drops it, pulls out his pistol, and shoots a tree. We watch the splinters fly off the poor oak, and then the booming voice sounds again.

“OK lads, let ‘em have it.”

In the distance, tens of pistols and rifles glint in the distance, then flash. The shot arrives a little while later, and then the sound. A piece of lead finds my shoulder. Everyone bolts, except for Jerry and Curtis. After a while, when I’m a safe distance away, I watch the ensuing battle from behind a bush, rifle in hand and shoulder aching. Jerry rotates his revolver cartridge, fires, and gets a satisfying grunt of pain in response. Curtis pulls the bolt of his rifle and shoots, getting a less pronounced

grunt and a piece of shot in the arm. Jerry spins the cartridge once again, fires and misses, and our enemy returns fire, catching Jerry with a bullet. The two flee as another volley smacks into the trees behind their position a few seconds ago, causing the bark of a small evergreen tree to explode and shower us with sharp, piercing splinters. Emily shakes her head and tells us we should have listened to her, which is a reasonable statement. Colena rapidly shoots arrows into the trees, to no avail, as evidenced by the snickers coming from the woods.

Colena is stupid.

We stagger out of the woods. Everyone who has a weapon grips it, in case the bandits try and pursue. Curtis, always excessively violent, fixes a bayonet. Along the way, I count the wounded. Colena, Emily, Curtis, Chelsea, Cynthia and I are wounded, but not seriously. Jocelyn, Angela and Jerry have been shot in the stomach. And Christina, Ada and Ronald emerge unscathed. Lucky chaps. Although Colena may move from the slightly wounded to seriously wounded list, as Jerry and Curtis are calling to shoot her. Which is a bad idea, but not entirely wrong.

Colena is stupid.

Then we met a haggard-looking man walking with someone we know. The someone we know is Rachael. The haggard looking man points at us and yells “bandits!”. Rachael calms the man down and explains to him that we are, in fact, not “bandits” but her friends. Then she introduces us to him as Barnabus and they both join the group on our trek to the houses not far in the distance. We tell Barnabus our story, and he nods at the end and says “never trust those pretty girls asking for help. Yer lucky none of you died”.

Comforting.

We come close to the walls of a tiny military base, and two mounties stop us and ask us to explain ourselves. When we tell them our story, they assess our wounds and decide to present us to the town doctor. That “assuming they can peel the doctor away from the two mounties who came here a few days back”. Jerry and Curtis again flash a knowing smile at each other, which the two mounties don’t see.

But someone does. Watching quietly from behind the mounties is an officer with an indecipherable look. A man who wears a fancy dress and the rank of some senior officer, likely a colonel. The mounties salute him, and he nods. The mounties motion for us to follow them, and then they shoulder their rifles and lead us into Dawson City.

Woah. Everyone is staring at us. Which is rather disconcerting.

Chelsea Jiang Finally, it was our turn. I’m a pretty decent hiker, but I still struggled a lot. We walked in a single file line. Dad was in front of me, and Margaret was behind. I wasn’t afraid of heights, but still felt dizzy when I looked down. Now the people down the mountain looked like ants, a great big cluster of them. We walked at a slow, steady pace. I squeezed my eyes shut, because the wind kept on blowing in my eyes.

Suddenly, I spot a black dot in the distance. What was it? A bag? An animal? A person! I hear several gasps as a figure of a person lying in the snow. As I got closer, I could see that he’s wearing a thin jacket, a hat, and one glove.

His hands were red and his face was purple. He looked exhausted. Without saying anything, a girl from our group named Rachael steps over and starts to help the man. As she looks back to us, we hesitate for a second and start heading up the hill again. She pulled a makeshift stretcher and started laying the man down. The rest of us continue on Chilkoot pass as the snow gets thicker and thicker.

I wanted to turn back and help the girl, but I was scared of getting lost and being seperated from my family, so I continued following the group.

At last, we made it past the Chilkoot trail. I was so tired my knees and legs felt like jelly. The rest of the day was honestly just a blur. I vaguely remembered something about Conrad needing money, but I was half awake, so it seemed like it all happened in a dream.

After a quick rest, we were finally going to head to Dawson city. Then suddenly, a deer came across our path. I was stunned, I had never seen a real life deer before! It stared at us blankly without showing any emotion. Everyone was quiet at first. Then a shrill scream came from another person in our group. She was around Margaret’s age, and she certainly had a very loud scream. Two people with guns pulled them out and pointed it at the deer. I was scared since I've never seen a real life gun before either. I hid behind dad and watched the deer’s every single move. Suddenly, a loud gunshot. Everyone was startled.

Then, voices. Loud voices. Angry voices. It occured to me that people thought someone was getting shot, considering they just heard a girl scream and then a gunshot right after. So we tried to hurry away, but two people came rushing towards us. After that, I’m assuming they both got shot because there were two loud gunshots and sounds of people falling to the floor. Dad tried to cover my ears and eyes, but I could still make out what was going on. Our group had just commited murder.

As the sun began to dip, I spotted a fire in the horizon. As we make our way forward, we see a camp. People were surrounding the camp and two men had rifles in their hands. One of them yelled out “Are you looking for us? Or are you just passing through?” in a loud, scary voice. We answered that we were just passing through and trying to get to Dawson city.

“Alright then! Be careful! We heard that there are bandits on the road and they shot a woman and two mounties!” The other responded. That would be us, thank you! I thought to myself.

Then we continued down the path and settled down for the evening. The next morning, we continue our journey to Dawson city. As we walked down the path, a woman came running out of the forest. “Help! She’s injured! My little sister! She was playing in the forest with her dog and she’s hurt! Please help!” She shouts. Dad and Margaret don’t say anything, but two people go with the woman to help her sister, if she was really injured. The rest of us wait on the grass, waiting for them to come back. “I hope they’re ok.” Margaret said as we waited and waited.

We heard loud shouts coming from the forest, but I couldn’t hear what people were exactly saying. Then we heard laughing. I was confused, what was going on in there? I yawned. I barely slept last night due to homesickness and the cold wind. I decided to just close my eyes for a few minutes while we waited. But I ended up falling asleep right on the grass. I think my dad wanted to let me get some sleep because when I woke up, we were already at our destination: Dawson city.

Welcome to the Yukon

1896

Christina Ye

We were all tired. Each step was accompanied by the gusting wind and freezing snow. Our cheeks and ears were red as roses, and you couldn’t feel a thing when you touched them. I had no doubt that like me, some of them were numb in their legs. We had no choice to trudge on, with no leader and almost no hope. We had barely even passed the base of the mountain, and the incline had barely started. Still, it felt like forever, with few of my “colleagues” making conversation. For the most part, we were dead silent as the air got thinner and it became harder to breathe.

My lungs felt empty and rigid, my eyelashes froze, and I was stuck. Not physically, but mentally. I hadn’t expected this at all, and I knew if Bree was here, she wouldn’t either. I’m stronger than her, but now I wonder if it’s the other way around. My knees wanted to buckle, and give in to the white powdered bed under my feet. My brain gives commands to my raw legs to keep me going, and I let time pass as we made our descent up Chilkoot pass.

One hour, then two, then three passes and we’ve made it halfway up the mountain. I glance over at the thousands of people coming to the rush, single- filed and quiet. Some miners are coming back from Chilkoot, and walk on the other side of the pass. Far less ascend than descend, but the idea of gold seems to ring in everybody’s mind, telling us it’s worth it. Is this just mankind grasping at its next big toy? Is it the greed of lads like me that have caused this death sentence?

Around three quarters up the giant hill, I start to appreciate the things Conrad had done for us in advance, even if it cost us a fortune. We were clearly better geared than the rest of the miners. The spikes on our shoes kept us from slipping down to our doom, and the warm parkas stuck to our skin.

Earlier on, I had made the decision to walk in the front of the pack along with a couple others. On the outside, the landscape can even be considered serene, but what we feel on the inside is entirely different. In fact, I guess you could say we don’t feel anything.

A man, on his way down from Chilkoot, treks closer and closer to us, spiking our curiosity.

We all take a moment to study the broken figure before asking questions. The man bears several backpacks, heavy and stuffed with who knows what. He is layered for the worst of the worst- at least 10 blankets draped over him topped with the fur of a bear. So much of his face is covered that you can only see large goggles strapped over his eyes. He holds a six foot long dagger at his waist, and doesn’t look afraid to use it.

The prospector looks shell shocked, and exhausted like the rest of us. He says nothing, until Colena, a girl in the front with me, pipes up.

“Hello?” she asks, in a mood too cheery for this occasion. He doesn’t reply, but takes notice of us and gives a curt nod.

“I don’t mean to bother you, but did you find any gold?” I question, wanting to know how truthful the dream of gold really is.

He opens his mouth to speak, but shuts it and whispers to himself, “Now, you shouldn’t go givin’ information to strangers down here. Gotta be careful,” he pauses, before replying in an incomplete manner. “No gold, no gold. Not a wink. I didn’t come here for gold either.”

A bit of my previous hopes melt around me. The idea of profiting from the riches above seems close to impossible, even though it was once my driving force. We continue to pry him with questions about his journey. Our group slows our space in order to interrogate the

poor man, and at some questions he tightens his grip around the silvery dagger. We needed some information of what went on up there, or I, like others, would probably explode. The wise but dazed man replies to our questions.

“I’m going the way back home.”

“Huh?” “I left in ‘93,” he answers to a question I posed. “It’s been three long years.” At this, my eyes open wide, the same effect mimicked by the rest of us. Three years? The man starts to mutter to himself again, ignoring the crowd around him. “So many of us goin’, and none coming back.” He shook his head, and was about to continue his journey before Colena asked another question.

“I see people coming down,” she blurted, stating the obvious.

“Yes, yes indeed. But people they are not. Men and women, but no souls.”

I shiver at his response. What could have possibly changed him that much? I start to grow suspicious. By the look of him, shaggy and wrecked to the bone, there has to be something wrong. If he’s not a prospector, what is he? I ask him a reckless but truthful question.

“Sir, I don’t mean to offend you, but do you eat people?” I try my best to break out an innocent voice, and luckily it works.

He doesn’t seem surprised, but hesitates at his response. He grunts, “No. I never would,” and leaves.

He’s hiding something, I know it. I didn’t spend years working in the assassin’s industry to not be able to tell when someone is lying. It’s plain as day. There’s a secret eating him up, and it haunts him to the ends of the earth.

At first, I marvel at my accomplishment, but then I come to realize, Is that really a good thing?

Everyone is left to their own thoughts as we continue moving. I’m pretty sure our thoughts were similar, because there isn’t really much else to think about.

I look back to the base of the hill. People are comforting shell shocked climbers, pitching tents and everyone is exhausted, per usual. “Look!” someone in our group yells.

The top of Chilkoot greets us, much friendlier than the snowy mountain but still terrifying.

Yukon is here, and we’ve finally made it all the way up. Surprisingly, the other side of the mountain is green and filled with flowy grass. Occasionally, there is a patch of yellow, but it’s a good contrast to the snow from before. As I stood admiring the landscape, some of the group had found an unconscious man lying down on the mountain.

People immediately start to crowd around him, and soon we’ve erupted into a mountain of conversations. It took us at least ten minutes to figure out what to do. I had suggested we leave him to dry. What’s the point of picking up a probably dead man anyway? Some wanted to stay, but in the end we had ruled out all the pros and cons.

Suddenly, Colena shrieked and awakened the man. The wonders of screaming are few, but I guess sometimes they come in handy. He was dazed and confused, and had no former memory of where he was. Regardless, I still didn’t care, and neither did the others. Rachael was the only one who wanted to stay.

“Don’t be Inhumane,” was what she said over and over again, so we left her to rot with the man and trudged on.

We made our descent on the other side of Chilkoot, which was by far the easier route due to the downhill slope and the fairer weather, even if it was somewhat hard to breathe. There weren't too many plants, but a forest on the left seemed to be the most green area. Being

strategic, we decided to split into smaller groups to venture in the trees. We stayed within sight of each other, but the main idea was to just cover as much land as possible.

Roaming the forest was a boring task, but didn’t take long and soon we reunited behind a set of bushes. There wasn’t anything particularly startling, until we all looked up to find a deer in front of us. Now, listen carefully. Any normal person would leave the animal alone, because they are harmless. But clearly, we’re not normal, because Bryant decides to step out of the bushes and point a gun at the deer. I thought this encounter was going to be interesting, and sure enough it was. In a good or bad way, I don’t know. Just a heads up- at the end of this, I concluded we like shooting things.

Bryant locks his hand on the trigger, and cocks the gun as he prepares for the final shot.

His determination to kill a deer was frightening and laughable at the same time. We all sat back to watch the show, when Colena dove in front of Bryant to prevent the shot from hitting the deer. Bryant’s knees buckled and Colena drove him through the grass, leaving them both slightly green as they stood up. The deer just stood at the other end, as it should. A hundred points are awarded to the deer for it’s stellar performance in acting.

Bryant and Colena started to make their way back, and everything seemed perfectly normal until we heard horses galloping in the distance. The sound of their hooves got closer and closer, so in a hurry we motioned for them to hop back into the bushes. I was careful to hide, and made sure my breathing didn’t give away my cover. However, the others didn’t do so well. Their arms rustled against the leaves, some were even talking, and it gave away our cover. We could hear the sounds of men shouting commands to the horses, and knew we had to act fast. Before we could think rationally, remember how I said we’re not normal? Well now, I think we’re psychopaths.

Jerry and Curtis leap out of the bushes like two excited monkeys when they see a banana.

No, I’m not exaggerating, and it was quite enjoyable. The two boys position themselves for the upcoming threat, tossing weapons all over the place. They end up both going with guns, and then the horses come into sight.

The horses and the men were definitely on the big side, muscular and tall. The people spoke in a western accent, and approached Jerry and Curtis slowly. In a blur, the boys activated their guns and started firing. It went so fast, I couldn’t even keep track. The men landed a couple hits on them, also fighting with guns. Jerry and Curtis manage to hit one of the men on the shoulder. He squirmed in pain, then continued to fight back. Rolling somersaults are used to dodge bullets and havoc starts to build. Trees are used as barriers, and you could barely hear anything above the loud gunshots.

As the severity of the injuries got worse and worse, Jerry with a bullet in his gut, we knew it was time to end the fight. Luckily, the other men simultaneously agreed as well and rode off. We pitched up camp, tried our best to patch up Jerry’s unwelcoming flesh and continued on.

I didn’t have much in my tent, but I realised that it was going to be one of the few times I got to rest. I tried to make the best of it, but sleep didn’t come so easily. The sun had started to set, talking away some of the warmth we had during the day. It was chilly, and not the most comfortable. I stacked some of the blankets we had brought and my coat on top for warmth, and used my bag as a pillow. I could hear some of us moving around, probably because of unrest as well.

After about half an hour, I finally fell asleep, but the nightmares weren’t so nice. ******

It’s all dark. I’m lurking in the shadows, but I’m comfortable. Too many of my memories include me, trapped in a closet, crying. It was the one place where they couldn’t reach me, and the one place I was okay. It seems that I’m in a large, open room, and a single dimly lit candle lies at the center. It illuminates a small area around it, and then the darkness gradually overtakes it. Strangely, in the middle there is also a chair. A plain, wooden chair, mysteriously sitting.

I know it’s a dream. I know it, but I can’t stand it. Good things never happen when I’m in a situation like this. We were trained to withstand dreams as assassins, but it never really worked. I have no choice but to wander around in anticipation, not knowing what could come next.

A door I cannot see creeps open from the black view, and out come five doctors. Silent, wrecked doctors, holding syringes and walking straight towards me. They do not talk, but speak to me through my mind. “Sit. In the chair.” My body unconsciously moves towards the chair, and I flop into the seat. Metal chains lock around my arms and legs, leaving me unable to move. I start to panic, and desperately try to get myself out of the nightmare. The doctors get closer and closer into view. Their coats are stained with blood, and their eyes are pit black. “Do not worry, we will not hurt you. Trust us.” They say, but I don’t believe them “Little girl, have no fear. Relax.” My breath hitches, and I close my eyes as they peer at me, ready to strike. A doctor opens my eyelids by hand, and I writhe in his grasp as a piece of duct tape is placed over my mouth. Just as I think it can’t get worse, they drop all the syringes on the floor, and pick up daggers. Sharp and pointy as can be, and coming straight at me. I try to scream, but my voice is obscured by the tape.

All five doctors silently chant inside my brain, “Relax. Relax. Relax.” They say it over and over again, right before the daggers enter my body and I scream. The pain feels so real, yet so fake. They circle around me and take the daggers out, then stab me again, over and over again. I’m shrieking, crying and yelling for help. “Almost done, little girl.” One of them says, before all 5 daggers plunge into my chest, harder than before. “Don’t worry. Almost do-” I awake, panting, about to scream again before realizing where I am. Breathe, in and out.

In, and out. I try to calm myself before checking outdoors, seeing that everyone is already tidying their tents. In a hurry, I threw on my coats and tucked the blankets in my bag before stepping outside. The breeze of the wind brushes past my skin, as if to scold me from sleeping late. I sigh and pack up my tent, and my pulse gradually returns back to normal. I’m still shattered, but I begin to recollect and think clearer. Once I finished, I joined everyone else and we started our pursuit for the next day.

We’re still headed for Dawson City, like Conrad said before he left us. We are pretty close now, but we need at least a day of transport before we can get there. Rachael is still gone, and some of us have started to worry. I keep my expression simple, because she was the one who decided to leave. It was her choice, and it’s not up to us to keep her safe now.

Everyone’s ready so we start to venture deeper in the forest, in hopes of reaching Dawson soon enough. There’s more chatter today compared to previous, probably because we all got some rest and the weather is much nicer. There isn’t really much to look at, besides thick spruce trees and the occasional bird.

After about five hours, a woman comes out of the clearing and says, “Help! My little sister is injured, please help! She hurt her leg…” Her face is the exact idea of Misery, even if we all went in knowing there was something wrong about this.

“Thank you, thank you,” she kept on repeating, as she led us to her sister. The lady led us further and further into the forest, until she leapt into a clearing and disappeared.

“Stop right there! I think that’s far enough.” A deep, booming voice commands us from the trees, laughing at our poor mistake. Emily, without a doubt, steps closer and closer to what seems to be a group of people. “There’s eight. Eight men,” she says, cautiously.

The man replies, “You bet there is. Now, lay down your valuables and this can all be over with.” They start to laugh, like they know that they’ve won. That’s until we start shooting again.

This time, guns as well as bows are used. Arrows and bullets whizz through the air, leaving us in a mess to try and dodge them all. Oddly enough, Jerry tries to set down his valuables in the middle of the battlefield. Luckily, he gets out with a few scrapes. At the side, I nimbly dodge a round of arrows coming for me, and duck behind a tree. The rest of us weren’t as lucky as me, and were getting some pretty bad shots. The sound of bullets piercing flesh does not worry me, but when I look up at my teammates I realise it was worse than I thought. Almost everyone had a wound on their shoulder, and blood started to drain all over the green grass. The two colours collided, and created a “Christmastime gone wrong” scene.

As I studied the rest of the crew, a loud bang came from the trees and hit Angela square in the chest. She crumpled to the floor, and some of the others went to pick her up and put her on the side. More of us got injured, and the men could sense their victory. “Seriously? Yuh can’t run now! C’mon, don’t be so afraid.” We didn’t back down immediately, though, and continued to fight to the best of our capability. Eventually, we had struck down enough of their men and regrouped in a small area.

At the back of the pack, someone gave a little shove and sent us flying out of the forest in a domino effect. No one was hurt, but it wasn’t a good idea. Two of the previous men lay flat on the floor, clearly dead. Some of us went over to check their belongings, before the unconscious man we had seen at the tip of Chilkoot and Rachel, who we thought was gone, emerged from the bushes holding knives.

It takes a few minutes to get everything sorted out, and apparently word was going around that we were bandits. The man’s name is Barnabus, and he seemed to have worked with the other men before. “Don’t trust pretty women in Yukon. They’re always up to something fishy,” he says, as we tell him our story. We were interrupted by a man, who looked like he had been previously fighting us, emerging from a tree ahead. He didn’t look too injured, and also claimed he wasn’t going to hurt us. He asked, “What in the world happened to you?” and we had no choice but to explain.

This man looked like he was police, and wore a red suit lined with different kinds of badges. At the end of our recount, he looked around at our scraped knees and bloody shoulders and decided to bring us to a hospital. We desperately needed that opportunity, so no one declined and we ventured as fast as we could to the clinic.

It wasn’t far, and in about half an hour we had reached the hospital. At the front, there was a sign that read, “Dawson City Hospital” and the man told us we had reached Dawson. I think we were all somewhat relieved, and the rest of the day was spent healing our broken wounds.

Hopi (Emily Wu) The next morning, I and Mr. Conrad registered out of the Last Hope after drinking some tea and eggs. We wanted to get up before the sun rose above the horizon to get a headstart on everyone else. Unfortunately, when we got to the base of Chilkoot Trail, I immediately felt a sense of dread climbing up my throat. We stopped at the sight.

There were hundreds, no, thousands, of people climbing up the narrow pass. Ants with heavy loads climbing up a stone tree in an orderly line. Despite the darkness, people were steadily heading upwards to the sky. I took a deep breath, the sharp tang of cold snow and musky sweat attacking my nose. My pink ears picked on the scrunching of feet and a muttered breath from Mr. Conrad.

Slightly worried and curious, I asked him in Cherokee.

“What is it?” He snorted and waved his hand forward in the universal ‘follow me’ signal and sauntered ahead. I followed.

Soon, we were rushing past others. Marching through the tough, trodden snow with uncomfortable heavy boots with spiked boots. I kept my head down low and murmuring apologies while I followed Mr. Conrad who was pushing past others with words such as “Let me through'', “Passing through!”. My ears burned despite the cold winds blowing and no sunlight to warm me up.

One burly man who was holding the hand of an elderly person, however, didn’t take Mr. Conrad’s skipping well. A large palm roughly taps Mr. Conrad and a deep growl emanates from behind us.

“Hey, you. Stop cutting the line, go back to the beginning.” We studied the boulder’s voice. A large, enormous and rectangular man with a smaller frailer companion. I glanced at the older woman, before cringing and glaring at my boots in shame.

I could see Mr. Conrad sneering at the two people. Alarms started ringing in my head.

“No. We are going to find gold, we shall be passing now. Whether you like it or not.” He pushed me forward. I jolted as I realized what was happening.

No. Just no… Not now, not when I don’t have anyone else right now. I thought we were going to get the gold together...

Please don’t make me go ahead on my own….

Mr. Conrad shakes his head and affirms my fears out loud in English.

“I’ll be dealing with this, and preparing for your arrival at the destination. You go on ahead.” I shivered as the biting nipped my face. The large man grunted as he covered the older woman, using his body as a shield of sorts. I stare at Mr. Conrad, silently begging him to not leave me alone.

He sighed, shaking his head ‘no’. I sniffled and pulled my heavy layers tighter around me. He frowned before patting my back and speaking in Cherokee.

“Donadagohvi” My lip trembled and I roughly wiped my eyes.

“Donadagohvi, Mr. Conrad.” He flashed a smile before posturing at the group, who I now realized was frowning at him. They glared at Mr. Conrad, and I quickly took the chance to rush ahead towards the peak of the mountain.

Ignoring the yells and compact yet slippery snow, I darted through the line of people. Paying no mind to the rather intriguing new snowy scenery or the piles of snow slipping through my boots and gloves, I just ran. Kept running even when my arms began to feel sore and numb.

I don’t know how long I ran, seeing my pressed, warm breaths turn into clouds. However, I know that eventually, I noticed a long line of children and teenagers, all with bags and climbing together ahead of me. They were helping each other as they slipped and pushed forward.

My heart throbbed at the sight. Here I was, an adult, being a scaredy cat and crybaby while these children were fighting the cold. Fighting the odds of failure and danger, yet they continue to march ahead. As a unit. Where were their parents? Did something horrible happen?

I felt one lone, salty drip fall down my cheek. It went ignored as I held my breath. My heart reached out to them with pity. Despite the indifference from my parents, I couldn’t imagine a life without them. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling, it was some sort of painful soup between longing, happiness, sadness, surprise, the flavours were indiscernible. I felt a burning heat burn my ears and cheeks as I interrogated myself.

What am I doing? Why am I watching children go up a mountain in hopes of riches? Why am I feeling this way?

Shaking my head, I decided to try and catch up with the line. Perhaps I had wanted to find some company, or I could have been giving in to the growing feeling that I had to be responsible for the safety of these children. Whatever the reason, I decided to climb up to the back of their group.

I was accepted and left to the back of the line for my own needs. I was honestly expecting to be laughed at, but they seemed either cheerful or simply indifferent to my presence. It was alright, I

was used to the veil of indifference from my sidanelv. It was the more joyful people that I was afraid of, it was odd and I was too tired to comment on whatever they were chattering about.

Instead, I took a moment to breathe and watch the scenery while I continued the tenuous, but easier with the spiked boots, progress. Despite some slips and the hot-cold temperature with sticky sweat, we managed. Though I couldn’t help but notice the many other people slipping and getting back up with bruises.

After some time, the front of our group stopped and began curiously interrogating a blood-red man who was heading down to the city. I couldn’t quite hear what they were talking about until we caught up to the front. However, I caught the words 'cannibal’ and ‘ketchup’. To add on, when the heavily dressed camouflage-coloured and strange goggles man was walking down the mountain, I noticed the sheen of light on his back. He had a large knife. Larger and sharper than a bear’s jaw.

Thank goodness the children at the front didn’t do anything outlandish to enrage that man.

Perhaps they were smarter and more capable than I gave them credit for.

Later, we encountered another man. This one was unconscious and had purples and blues all over him. He was wearing one glove and a thinner coat. However, [Colena’s Character]’s ear-rupturing screech quickly woke him up. The poor man was over-exerted, panting. We had no idea how long this man was there. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure what to do.

Two boys wanted to shoot the man out of his misery, - which is worrisome and yet at the same time slightly understandable. It reminded me a lot of Adriel’s belief to end other’s suffering. - and everyone else wanted to keep him alive. None of us were sure how to act and help.

We decided to vote, and everyone except a young girl voted to move forward. She didn’t say a word, she just picked the man up and went down the mountain before I could even offer some biscuits. I had a feeling she didn’t want to talk so I stared as she walked away. Away from the group into danger, her friend [Colena] hollering out her goodbyes. I also called out my own mournful ‘see you later and good luck’ to the young admirable girl. I hadn’t known her well, excluding the repeating words, but she had my respect for taking in the danger to help another.

I had wanted badly to also help her and the man, unfortunately, I needed to get some gold. I had to get enough money to stop my tribe’s - no, my family’s - home from being bought off by others. It was a depressing decision, but I had to continue with the majority. To help protect them and my family, although regretful, it was what I needed to do.

Perhaps everyone could learn from her.

We pass through people using shovels to dig the snow away from the trail. Soon we are at the calling point to the heavens. We hear the cries of a red-hawk overhead. I blinked, but smiling, confused as to whether or not I was dreaming, but then a shadow flew past us.

A chilling caterpillar crept on my spine and I swallowed. Trying to remember what it meant and the signs.

I kept my mouth shut about my thoughts. Many outsiders would always laugh at my tribe’s beliefs, and if these children were part of this group, then they wouldn’t heed me. Possibly even doing the opposite simply to spite me. I already was still trying to learn more vocabulary from the dictionary Mr. Conrad bought me, I didn’t need these people thinking I was stupid. Which could lead to disastrous consequences that I didn’t want to think of.

I try to instead focus on the surprising pretty sight of the valley down. It was a relieving sight after the long days of the biting cold in an unknown place.

The thick, luscious green forest lay across the sight. A narrow path slithered through the trees.

The breeze suddenly felt more refreshing than frosty, and the warm sun shone brightly on our faces. I could hear the excited cheers of people behind me and the different yet calming whistling of birds.

It was like home throughout most of the year. The unexpected but pleasant likeliness of home covered me like the sun on the grass. I quietly sighed in happiness as a bubble of thought formed.

The warm weather never gets old… I’m sure Adriel and the others have passed by, they must’ve. They’re always faster, even if Adriel was ‘sporting’ a cough when I last saw him.

My smile wavered as it hit me how I had left them, no location or time. Fortunately, a mental reminder of what I was hoping to help my brother get more of, and what reason made a smile come back to my face as I imagined the tribe’s reaction.

They would give us a warm welcome, we’d have a large hunt and feast in celebration of the news and spend quality time together. I’d be able to prove that I could provide for the tribe, maybe even have a sustainable way to help. I’d also get to talk with Adriel more often.

The illusion had me bouncing on the prickly toes of the boots.

We headed down to the valley, the air becoming incredibly warm, so we opened out the restricting coats and gloves to cool down. Many others did the same and began to split up at the valley. Glaring at each other suspiciously for some reason, I didn’t quite hear why or understand what the hostility was for. I shrugged it off to the possibility that these people were more competitive.

Time passes and we encounter a deer. For some unfathomable reason, [Bryant’s character] decided that it was a good idea to shoot the deer. Needless to say, we were all objecting and my

respect was taken over by my growing worry and bewilderment. Thankfully, [Colena’s character] managed to scare the deer off before he could shoot.

I understand killing for food and stopping pain, but we had some food left and the deer was perfectly healthy. It also didn’t help that [Bryant] was trying to kill a fawn, which was simply wrong and unconventional. My eyes burned with fury but the small comfort to my wound was [Colena’s character]’s act to stop it.

Is everyone this puzzling? What do they gain from this?

The same thing happened with 2 people on horses. Except [Jerry and Curtis’ characters] shot them. Their loud racket caused people to start screaming and watching us warily. The two boys cheered as they bumped their fists. I shook, barely restraining the urge to discipline or leave them. My fists shook and my teeth gritted against each other. The other children passed me, [Colena] trying to chastise the two teens, though no one seemed to be as repulsed as me. My mind reeled with underground thoughts as I silently followed everyone else.

Why do these children keep attacking others? What did they gain?

I couldn’t understand, all I knew was that these incidents were horrendous. I would never wish harm on a child, however, I hope something would just knock them down a pedestal. Since if they saw the consequences of their actions, they would think twice instead of wildly shooting innocents.

Was this what I wanted? Did I want to stay by these people?

I squeezed my eyes in frustration and turbulence. Why was I thinking this? I had made my decision to follow these children to guide them away from danger. There needed to be an adult around to try and regulate the damage. However, right now, I wasn’t sure if it was us who needed aid and company or those around us.

I felt an acidic and nauseating liquid rising in my stomach. I swallowed, trying to not throw up and looked up at the sky. Trying to clear my mind of these sickening thoughts. I needed a distraction, something else to think about, something to do for others.

A young woman in a night long-sleeved straight top and bumped up dress came running towards us. She cried about how her younger sister was playing with their dog before being attacked. Me and [Colena’s character] immediately agreed, the boys with guns told us to be careful and how she was acting suspicious.

I ignored it, they seemed to be suspicious of everything. Almost to the point of paranoia. I was desperate to find a distraction, though that doesn’t excuse me of blame for leading the group into this. I was the only adult, thus, I should have had enough sense to listen to everyone and notice signs.

She leads us through the clearing to the forest, only to rush forward into the trees. Before anyone could run after her, a deep, gruff voice yells.

“That’s far enough, young fellas!” I immediately scan the trees for the source. There were 1,2, 6, 7, 8 people here. They all were wearing the same suit as Mr. Conrad but in a dark blood-red colour. They also were holding long guns, a similar one to what [Jerry’s character] weaponised.

My heart painfully pounds against the confines of bone.

“Go ahead and toss some valuables into the clearing. Welcome to Yukon.” The eerie voice held a thinly veiled promise of getting shot if we didn’t comply. [Colena’s character] quipped.

“We live here. We’re passing through.” An array of snorts trembled the ground before the voice drawled.

“If you lived here, you would not have fallen for that.” I whisper to my group that there are 8 people, all of them armed. So they shouldn’t attack. [Colena’s character] seems to not hear the last part and whispers back with a smile, questioning where they are. I scowl and harshly mutter under my breath as I glare at them.

“I’m not giving you children a target to try and get us killed!” I pray that even these kids will listen and follow even if I was new. My mind raced as I prayed.

Please, whatever we do, DON’T shoot. Don’t shoot, don’t shoot, don’t shoot. Please restrain yourselves.

[Jerry’s character] licks his lips nervously. My eyes widen in fear.

Then, it storms into chaos.

[Colena’s character] quickly shoots an arrow, randomly aiming for nothing. [Jerry’s character] draws his gun and fires, wood splinters off a tree. Loud explosions and screaming deafens everyone’s ears as we all scramble away from the painful pellets.

BANG! BANG BANG BANG! A hot, sharp pain shoots through my right shoulder as I land into the covers of bushes. I hiss at the unexpected burning pain as I scramble to crawl outside, trying to stay out of firing range. It was something I had never experienced, it was like a hail with the blaze of a fire, it was sharper than the canines of lions.

We hurried out of the forest. Away from the fading maniacal laughter and the freightenning bombs. The unbearable ear-splitting ringing stayed in my ears as I hurried to find the other children. I was sure that they were also in pain and probably more so than me.

The agony of my right shoulder cramping up and bleeding was painful, but it was nothing to the crushing hurt that stemmed from the absolute disregard to what I believed. I had wanted to not fight or leave, I had warned them of how many shooters there were without revealing where in hopes that they’d get the message. Sadly there was either miscommunication, or they purposefully ignored it.

I winced at the thought. I wasn’t sure which one of those was worse, though I knew they both made my heart ache in sadness and frustration. Either I was an alien with no connection to them, or they didn’t care.

My vision became blurred from mist as streams began flowing through my eyes.

Why though? Was it because I’m still learning English? Did I mess up? Why did they have to fire? Why all of this fighting?

I sat down on the grass, wiping my eyes and sniffing as I tried to make sense of my situation.

I just wanted to help my family, what did I ruin? Why did Mr. Conrad choose me to go on this dumb trail? It’s bull feces, what the world am I doing, staying with a bunch of crazy monkeys that like killing? This isn’t what I wanted!

I kept wondering why I stayed with this particular group when there were surely plenty of other less violent groups. But deep down, I already knew why.

The boys were too similar to Adriel, leaving the violent boys would be like betraying my own kin, leaving him out in the wilderness. Although Adriel was much older, and more diplomatic, than the teenagers, they both had a fiery passion for fighting. I couldn’t help but want to stay and help, even if it meant being faced with indifference. Giving up on them was too close to giving up on Adriel.

I didn’t want to give up on Adriel, he was my older brother. And despite all the little squabbles and clashes on fighting and providing for the tribe, I still loved him.

After some moments of sorting out my thoughts and crying a bit, I got up to go back inside when a squawk called out to me. I looked up.

It was the same red-tailed hawk from before, except now, it was circling me. I smiled, mentally thanking it for guarding me while I sat down. The bird flew towards the town, perking, I smiled and nodded.

Then I started sleepwalking. Making sure to hold my right arm close to me, I focus on each step.

One, two, three four. One, two, three, four. Though I focused on each step, I kept some focus on my hearing as well for safety.

The tang of blood attacked my mouth and nose. It was fresh, and I saw a trail of red on the grass. I stared at the line, a small bout of apprehension reappearing.

Must be the children that got shot… Keep going, Hopi!

I followed the bloody scent. Thankfully, they weren’t too far away and I caught up to them.

Staying to the side, I observed the group.

The pack of children and teenagers were with 15 other men in smooth, red leather jackets. The men were in front, leading everyone else forward. Quietly raising my feet up, I crept up to them and started trailing behind, scanning for any injuries. The others continued following the 15 oddly dressed men.

Many of the children were injured in some way, their bodies littered with bruises and cuts. Two of the girls were bleeding heavily, I winced at the renewed throbbing in my shoulder. The injuries seemed like they were a pain to bear, and judging by their own winces, my assumption was correct. A pool in my stomach rippled.

Would all of this have happened if I tried harder?

I looked away, now wasn’t the time to think about it. They had to get medical help for the burning, smooth rock.

Soon, we staggered into town. Others stood to the side with their heads nodding or saluting.

These 15 specially dressed men must’ve been higher within the hierarchy. One of the men worriedly asked.

“What happened exactly?” I decided to join the interaction.

“Well,” I hum to buy myself more time to figure out how to tell them. “We were up at the edge of this valley, when a woman in a night long-sleeved straight top and bumped up dress came running towards us. She cried about how her younger sister was playing with their dog before being attacked. We immediately agreed to help.” I decided to not say my own reason, it was too personal.

“She led us to a clearing when she ran away into the trees. Before we could follow, a gruff voice from 8.. males came out and ambushed us with these… guns.” I hesitated before finishing.

“My friends here are a rather, rambunctious bunch. They thought it was some sort of version of hide and seek, so they ran ahead...” I sighed, pointing at the others.

“That’s how this all happened.” One of the men nodded, writing in a notebook before starting the stinging medical treatment.

Obediently, we sat and did what the healer ordered. Even if the healing was odd.

Their ‘antibiotics’ were bitter, not like from nature but as if it was some sort of chemical or poison. The tiny capsules the healer told us to swallow without chewing felt like plastic, it’d slide around on your tongue until you decided to risk choking.

However, despite the new medicine, it did make me feel drowsy and comfortable. Soothed, I laid down comfortably on the floor, raising my hand to imagine the blue sky above me. Breathing deeply, I fought to stay awake but the medicine must’ve had some sort of sleeping ingredient because before I knew it, I wasn’t in the house.

A/N (do not include in the book please, though you should probably include the translations of the Cherokee Vocabulary): Red-Tailed Hawk is an easter egg I added. Can you try to figure out the meaning behind the Easter egg before I write the next part? Also, don’t worry ‘bout me, I just wrote the vent-like part because of characterization (I actually am having fun with the others, even if I get lost at some points due to glitch). All the violence gotta be unnerving to my boy. :D Proof Red-Tailed Hawks are in the area: https://www.nps.gov/klgo/learn/nature/biodiversity.htm#species Description of Woman who tricks the group (dog and little sister excuse, ambush) First image: https://bellatory.com/fashion-industry/Womens-Fashions-of-the-1890s Cherokke Language from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bzAPC5ig5js and others that I forgot to cite ^^;;

Cherokee Vocabulary in This Chapter: Donadagohvi = ‘till we meet again Sidanelve = Family

Ronald: We finished the hike. It felt good after we got to the hotel and went to our rooms. But the day wasn’t over yet. We met another prospector who everyone suspected was a cannibal because of the way he talked. He pulled out a gun and seeing our numbers with bows put it back in his pocket. This was a close encounter. We all left to our rooms scared for our lives. The next day we all went out and heard the bad news that Conrad had run out of money. He wanted our money. No one liked that idea but we knew he bought all the supplies. So we all reluctantly handed our money to him. We all got food in return. We decided to get on the road to Dawson city and we were met by gunshots. The shots seemed to have come from the forests and we fired back with our crossbows. Then I shot. The sound of an oof then a crunch was heard. We had killed someone. We continued on our path to Dawson City and met a tiny deer that seemed very lost. We decided to put it in a warm spot and feed it some grass that was still visible. We didn’t feed it food because we only had a limited supply and didn't want to starve to death. Then we all moved on the way. Today was a pretty weird day but I figured that many people didn't want us alive because we were competitors in the gold rush. We slept outside that day and it was cold. I woke up very early and the rest of the group slowly woke up and wearily walked outside and went on. We discovered that someone had ransacked everything we had. We checked for everything but nothing except our clothes and ice picks were left behind. We had no food. Needless to say, we were not very happy. This was all our supplies and we still had to move on. Then our group all fell into some type of hole. This was a trap! We all climbed out very mad and finally arrived at Dawson City.

Ada: We finished the hike up the mountain that day. I thought the hike would be the worst part of the journey, but I was wrong. A few hours after we finished the hike, we met a prospector.

Most of the people who we met on the hike agreed that he was a cannibal. He talked in a confusing way that can’t really be described. The prospector had a gun with him, but numerous people in our group had bows and arrows, which made him eventually back down. When I woke up early the next morning, I heard that Conrad ran out of money and was asking for ours. If he couldn’t get the money in time, my family and a lot of other families wouldn’t be able to get the supplies that were needed for the rest of the trip. Since he was our main source of income at the moment, we had no choice but to pool all of our money together and give it to him.

After, we got on the road to Dawson City. We heard some gunshots not too far away from where we were. They were coming from the forest, so we fled into some bushes to take cover. Our group fired at the general direction of the gunshots with our own arrows. I heard an “oof” from one of the people on the other side. That was their last breath. I had no time to look back at what the others did. I quickly made sure that my family was with me, then continued along the road to Dawson City. That’s when we saw a little deer. I took a few looks at it, then decided that it wasn’t worth killing, even though we could have used the food. We moved it out of the way and made sure that it had access to some grass. We had already wasted a lot of the day and it was starting to get dark, so we continued on our way.

That day, we slept outside. It was pretty cold and I didn’t really sleep well. The next morning, I woke up early. That’s when I found that someone ransacked our supplies. I quickly went through everything, and saw that they had taken almost everything we had. I only had my clothes and ice picks. We were very disappointed, but still had to move on. Then, when I least expected it, we started falling into a deep hole. Now I was starting to get mad. I thought the point of this trip was to make gold and not run into so many difficulties. But I managed to climb out of the hole, then helped the rest of my family climb out. We continued on our way, and finally arrived at Dawson City.

Colena Shan 1896

Welcome to the Yukon Hello again.

We waited at least 2 hours before getting onto the Chilkoot Trail. Ahead of us, some 2000 people walked up the Golden Staircase, intending to find some gold.

I went first, followed by Rachael and Christina. We trekked for a few hours when we came across a guy heading down the slope. This guy was wearing a beaverskin cap and a bearskin cape. He had a backpack on his back.

I decided to do something really random.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hello,” said the person, slowing his pace.

I slowed down too (not stopping, or else the people behind me would get real mad, and I’m not just talking about my companions who got employed by Conrad Michigan to do stuff for his company, Wagner and Assorted Children), so I could talk to him. Rachael kept silent, but Christina asked a question.

“Did you find gold?” she asked eagerly.

The man frowned at her, and reached instinctively behind his back. After a brief hesitation, he moved his hand back in front of him again.

“No,” he said finally. “I didn’t come here for gold. Why ask?”

It was 100% a lie. His backpack looked really heavy, and gold was heavy, so there was no doubt in my head his backpack was filled with gold.

“Then why does your backpack look so heavy?” I asked.

The man glared at me. “Best not tell too much about yourself to strangers,” he said.

“Were you talking to me or yourself?” I said.

“Spoke a lot to m’self up there,” the man said, pointing a finger at the top of Chilkoot Trail. Turning back to us, he added, “Not many come back from the journey.”

He had just reached the middle group, which included Curtis, who asked, “Do you eat people?”

Even if he did, why would you ask that? I thought.

The man glared at Curtis and marched down the mountain, resuming his pace, and when I caught a glimpse of the man’s back, I spotted a large knife, right underneath his backpack. The blade was probably 6 feet long.

That was our first “interesting” time, and it also put us on our guard. *** We continued on, and our second “interesting” time happened after a few hours.

We came across this place where the road was wider and people were resting on the side. I noticed a young boy, who had his glasses all fogged up, wheezing, while an elderly man patted him gently.

We continued until we saw a person, lying down in the snow, unmoving, without wearing a single coat? Who would do that? The Yukon was super cold!

“I’m going to check his pulse,” I announced, “to see if he’s alive.”

“Yo, let’s shoot him so we know he’s dead!” Curtis yelled.

Curtis, Jerry, and Bryant started debating on how to kill this gonna-die-from-the-cold guy, while Rachael and I checked his pulse. His heart wasn’t beating, but he was breathing. How the heck was that possible?

After putting “kill” out of Curtis, Jerry, and Bryant’s heads, we debated on whether we should bring this guy back down the Chilkoot Trail or just leave him.

In the end, it was Rachael who was gonna go bring Barnabus (apparently that was the guy’s name) back down by herself.

“Careful, Rachael!” I warned her.

“Same as Colena!” Emily said.

Huuuuuuuuuuuh?

Rachael was soon out of sight, and we continued. *** Welcome to the scene where Bryant wants to kill an innocent deer.

My companions and I were going along as usual on a warmer path surrounded by trees, when a deer happened to prance in front of us. Bryant got out his colt and I realized what he was gonna do moments before it happened. He was gonna shoot the poor deer who had done him no wrong.

I decided to scare the deer into running away. I let out a shriek, probably 1000 octaves louder than the loudest scream ever recorded, and the deer ran back into the woods. Bryant shot a nanosecond too late, the bullet missed the deer by a mile. It won’t surprise you, would it, if I told you Bryant immediately got mad at me.

“Shoot Colena, shoot Colena, shoot Colena,” he said over and over again, until we heard hoofbeats.

“Hide!” I hissed at my companions, and everyone except Jerry and Curtis sprinted to the side and ducked behind some bushes. Jerry and Curtis pulled out their guns (wow, they brought guns?) and stood looking like complete idiots in the middle of the road. Nobody else saw this happening, since we had put some distance between ourselves and the other prospectors.

Two Mounties appeared. They wore red coats (I could tell it was red since some people can detect color by smell, and I am one of those people, don’t ask me why, the unexplainable always happens to me, *sighs*), and they had their swords sheathed.

When they caught sight of Jerry and Curtis, with their guns pointed at the men, the Mounties yelled, “WHOA!” “Identify yourselves!” one of them commanded, looking totally unconcerned at Curtis’s gun.

Obviously, Curtis and Jerry did not obey those guys. Curtis fired his gun, and it hit one of the Mounties in the shoulder. That guy turned his horse and the horse galloped away. Then Jerry decided to shoot his blunderbuss too (those guys are violent), and it hit the other guy in the gut. The Mountie (I think that’s what it’s called?) decided to flee and after they disappeared from sight, the rest of the group cautiously moved out of our hiding place.

We’d barely gone another 500 meters when a woman appeared out of nowhere, appearing to be in distress.

“Help! Help! My sister is injured!” she cried. I frowned. This could be a trap, but she seemed sincere. Then I figured that if her sister was really injured, we would be helping, and if it was an ambush, then we either got to get injured (which would be rather exciting) or we got to kill bad people.

Some of us hesitated, but we all decided to follow this woman anyway. She led us into a clearing—oh dammit. Clearings were great places for ambushes. Then she broke into a run, and I sighed, when I heard a voice from above.

“You there!” some guy shouted from the trees. “Drop all your valuables.”

Chelsea got a glass filled with ketchup and somebody yelled, “Yeah, great! Ketchup, I love that!” Right after hearing this, Chelsea threw the glass at a tree, spilling ketchup everywhere.

“Well, are you gonna drop your valuables or not?” shouted a voice from the trees.

“There are about eight of them!” Emily shouted.

“No!” I shouted at those unseen men. I took out my bow (wait—I packed a bow? What a surprise) and started randomly firing arrows. The people in the trees started laughing at me.

Jerry took out a bottle of whisky—WHAT THE HECK DID HE PLAN TO GET DRUNK ON THIS ADVENTURE OR SOMETHING—and somebody yelled, “Yeah, leave that too, I love whisky!” Jerry threw the bottle towards the sound of an unseen dude’s voice, missing, of course, but at least the bad guys couldn’t get whisky either.

“We’re gonna open fire!” bellowed one of those unseen dudes.

“GO AHEAD!” I screamed.

“You’re gonna get us all killed!” one of the other girls yelled at me.

Arrows flew everywhere, and one hit me in the leg. Ouch. Jerry and Ronald (I think?) both ducked well after the first volley and Jerry fired a bullet back, and there was this satisfying poomf as one of those—shooters?—fell out of a tree and landed on the grass. I think Ronald fought back too, but I don’t really remember.

“AWESOME!” I shouted for some dumb reason.

More arrows flew at us, one hitting Jerry.

“RUN LIKE COWARDS!” somebody (I think it was me?) screamed. We bolted and I nearly ran into Rachael and Barnabus.

Barnabus gave us a surprised look. “What happened?” he asked.

Emily told him about the crying woman pleading for help, and the ambush, and Barnabus informed us that the people who attacked us were the Cliffton’s (or something like that) Gang.

“Never trust a woman crying for help in these parts,” Barnabus said.

“Right now is a helpful moment to tell us that,” I muttered. *** We came to a camp a few hours later, and we were met by two guards.

“Are you here to stay, or passing through?” one of them growled.

“J-just passing through,” I said.

“Well, be careful,” the other grunted. “Bandits are on the loose. They shot a woman and two Mounties.”

Whoops—it seemed that since I screamed like a terrified idiot and Bryant shot his gun at the deer scene, it sounded like a woman was getting shot, so that’s probably why the Mounties came in the first place. I just hope Jerry and Curtis weren’t recognized as the people who shot the Mounties, so we don’t have police chasing us and stuff.

Nothing interesting happened until we reached Dawson City. A guy with medals (which I assumed were gold, but I’m not sure, I’m colorblind) walked over, bearing a lantern. Since I somehow was at the front of the group again, he looked at me and said, “Hmm…you’re sixteen, aren’t you?”

“Uh yeah,” I said, since I didn’t feel like lying.

“Where are your parents?” the person (probably a lieutenant) asked me.

“Somewhere where dead people are,” I replied.

“Oh, sorry,” said the police-guy. Then he told us about a doctor (I didn’t catch the doctor’s name) who could treat our wounds, and I think we found some rooms—somewhere?! We talked a bit, before going to bed.

“Wait a minute, we were shooting police?” I heard Curtis mutter behind me.

“Yes you were,” someone (probably me again) hissed at him.

“I still think all of this is Colena’s fault,” Bryant grumbled.

“What?! You were the one who wanted to shoot the deer! That animal did nothing to you!” I snapped. “I was just saving its life, what’s the problem with that?”

“Maybe we should blame the deer!”

“I still think it’s Colena’s fault that we got all these injuries.” *sighs*

We ended our conversation shortly after, and we went to bed.

I’m not sure what to do next, because it’s just so confusing.

Good night.

Cynthia L On the way up the mountain, I saw a man lying on the ground. There was a pickaxe beside him. The man had a grey beard, and white hair took up most of his head. He looked tired and his hands were dirty. “Hey, I don’t think it’s healthy to be lying on a mountain,” I said. “And I don’t think it’s respectful to be staring at someone like that,” he answered. A couple of people walked by and laughed. “See that guy? He’ll never get to the gold. He’s too weak.” one said, pointing to the man. The others grinned and they walked away. The man sat up. “ Unlike you, those people don’t deserve gold.” He huffed. I said nothing. “I’m Barnabus. You?” “Connie,” I said quietly.

“Well, nice to meet you, but excuse me I have to be on my way.” He stood up, dusted his ragged clothes, picked up his pickaxe, and stumbled off.

Day turned into night as people hiked the Chilkoot Trail. We were all exhausted and ravenous.

We finally decided to set up camp somewhere on the mountain. My dad set up a tent in the middle of all the other tents people put up. We went to bed.

It must be past midnight, and I couldn’t sleep. The cold wind blew, and I shivered. I pulled my covers up a bit, so it would be warmer. Then, out in the distance, something caught my attention. It was a moving figure. I looked closer and recognized the figure’s face. To my surprise, it was Mike! Why was he snooping around this late at night?

My curiosity got the better of me and I peeked around the tent flaps. Mike was holding something shiny. I strained my eyes to get a better look at the shiny thing. It looked like a blade, and my eyes widened. Mike suddenly turned around and I quickly pulled my head inside. A scream came out of the tent beside us, then all was silent. I felt cold sweat on my forehead, and wanted to go outside and warn everybody, but no. Not when there’s a probable serial killer waiting outside. So I hid under my covers and waited until morning.

Morning came, I woke my parents, and we all got out of our tent. I rushed to the tent beside us and pulled the flap wide open. Someone was lying face down on the floor, and worst of all, dried blood stained her back, and a bloody knife was sticking out of it. I quickly yelled for everyone to come over, and soon enough, a crowd was gathered in front of the victim’s tent.

“Who could’ve done it?” gasped Barnabus, covering his mouth in shock. “It must be you! Old man!” someone shouted angrily. “What? Why would it be me?” he asked. “You didn’t sleep last night, you must be planning something big! Probably killing all of us so you can get all the gold for yourself!” Barnabus strolled over to the person and slapped him in the face. “Ow! How dare you-” “I think I know who did it.” I declared. “It’s Con-” Suddenly, Mike burst through the people, and bellowed “I HEARD SOMEONE IS DEAD?!”

Rachael Thursday, October 1, 1896 Hello again, We had been waiting for what seemed like several hours before we managed to start our trek up the hill. Some people were going down, but far more people were going up, a long black line of those who, like us, were looking for gold. The mountain pass was not steep at the bottom, but as those who were climbing gained altitude, it became steeper and steeper, until it reached its summit of 1067m above sea level, where you would start your descent. It was nearly vertical at the top, and I saw sense in the fact that ‘Conrad Michigan’ had bought horribly expensive pikes for us to use. When I looked back, around three times the people who had been here earlier had gathered. Michigan was right. We had to be early.

The people at the top were probably there ever since yesterday, and it took an hour for the first third of the hill. It was a little steep, but we all had new boots, but that really didn’t make a difference because although there wasn’t much snow, there was a lot of ice, or what seemed like ice. It was more like flattened snow from the previous prospectors, somehow making it slippery.

My hands were cold (fortunately not freezing), and I’m pretty sure others felt the same feeling in their hands. Some people were falling down the hill, and I pitied them a little, but continued as if nothing had happened. It was during this time that I learned everyone’s names, and I knew Colena, whom I had become acquainted to. I wondered if this was a coincidence, or simply Conrad had known that we were acquainted. Among the group were Jerry and Curtis, who seemed to somehow know each other (I might be wrong-). Both carried firearms - Jerry had a revolver and Curtis had a rifle slung over his shoulder. They weren’t the only ones with firearms, however - a man about 24 years old named Bryant had a rifle (a Winchester Model 1894) and Colena had a bow. There was also Christina, Angela, Ada, Chelsea, Emily, Ronald, Jocelyn, and Cynthia. Christina was unreadable, and so were everyone else, although Chelsea seemed to have an obsession with ketchup as she looked like she had many bottles of ketchup on her (yes it was invented by 1896 - it was invented in 1812).

The sky was now a brilliant pink-red-orange colour, the sun glowing a bright yellow as it disappeared beyond the waves of people and snow-capped mountains. It was soon replaced with the dark sky of the night, littered with stars, the full moon shining as if it would never be snuffed out. It was harder to see now, and the wind kicked up. I looked around, and there were still hundreds - perhaps thousands - of people going up and waiting to come up to pass. The temperatures began to drop, which was not helped by the fact that we were going higher and higher. The wind howled like it relied on that to live, and I shivered in the cold. I was sweating, and the sweat cooled against my skin. My coat clinged to my skin from that, and I hated the feeling. I was in the front, and I was one of the first to see a man, coming down. He was holding poles, or at least we thought so (scientific pig). His coat seemed to be made of bear skin, and he wore goggles. He was dressed more heavily than any of us, and a leather string tied his coat together. This is going to be bad, I thought, eyeing the man warily.

Colena, being the talkative type (extrovert) said, “Hello.”

“Hello, terrible day here,” replied the man (as if we asked you idiot).

“Did you find gold?” Christina asked.

“No, of course not - I’m not a prospector.” At this point, the man seemed quite suspicious, and was clearly hiding something. His backpack looked like the heaviest backpack in the world, and its size could easily contain gold.

“What are you doing here?” one of us asked.

“Is there a heavy load in your backpack?” Colena asked. He ignored her and continued on saying: “Back home for the first time since 1893 - three years that went to waste.” (we never asked you - or are you answering the question that asked you what you were doing) “Your backpack looks heavy,” Colena said.

“Gold is the worst thing that ever happened to humanity,” he said. Now it was extremely clear that he was hiding something. He was dodging questions, which was something that I was curious about, and seemingly others too.

“So many humans are goin’ over but none are coming back,” he said.

“Well I see people coming down the hill,” someone said.

“No humans, though,” he said.

“Bye bye, I’m an alien so I don’t care,” Colena said cheerfully.

“Are there any hairless animals?” Curtis asked, looking worried (he feared hairless animals and Bryant fears animals so Imma stick a salamander in both of their faces if I can get one).

“I see thousands. We are all animals,” he replied (yes I know that we’re all animals and we’re all not hairless) “Are you a cannibal?” Colena asked, which is a horribly strange question to be fair.

“N-n-n-no,” the man answered in a questionable tone (again suggesting that he was hiding something).

He turned and went off, and I saw that strapped under his backpack to his waist was a long knife, gleaming under the moonlight, and when I squinted, I thought I could see, splattered across the blade that made it so impossible to look at, patches of dark red liquid (ya’ll know what that means so-).

Creepy.

We reached a place where many people were resting. Most of them were men, with some women scattered here and there. There was a young man, who was wheezing, and an older man was giving him water and saying: “Here here, take a sip.” (or something like that). There was a weight of unhappiness from the people around, and I realized that since it was snowing, the way down the pass would soon be blocked up. I had a feeling of foreboding that settled in as I digested it - if we took a rest now we could be trapped in the snow. I spotted a figure in the snow, and I think everyone else did too, because we all went towards them. There was a man lying there, perfectly still, as if he was a statue. I checked his pulse. He was alive and breathing, though shallowly. He wore a jacket that didn’t seem very thick. His jacket lay open, his fingers were frostbitten, and his face was a sickly purple. One of his mittens were off, and his boots looked like they had plenty of snow in them.

“Wake up!” Colena shouted. Amazingly, he woke up, and stared at us without any sign of recognition. I studied everyone closely. No one did anything to help him, so I set my backpack down and pulled out a canvas and a rope for a makeshift stretcher, and headed back.

He came to, and I used my money to buy him some food. He kept on thanking me profusely, and I kept on mumbling “no problem” which he didn’t seem to hear. He introduced himself as Barnabus. “I was traveling down the trail,” he said once he had calmed down, “when I had a sudden urge to take off my coat and mittens and then…” He broke off, shaking his head.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“What do you think?” I retorted.

“Are you looking for gold?”

“Now there, that’s none of your business.”

Just then I heard voices arguing. One of them I recognized as Conrad’s weird American accent, and the other one was unfamiliar. I eyed them, and as I did, Conrad broke off, shaking his head. He turned to go, and then spotted me. He stared at me for a split second before asking, “Why are you eating soup?” like that was the most illogical thing to be doing ever. “Because I’m here,” I replied bluntly. He then proceeded to ask me for money, to which I responded, “Why should I give you money?”

“The hotel person is refusing to recognize my shares,” he replied, which was the worst reason as it was completely unrelated.

“That’s not my problem,” I said.

“I could use the result to make a comfortable life for you once you get over the pass!” (clearly this person is horrible at negotiating) “I could just save the money to make a temporarily comfortable life once I get over the pass,” I pointed out.

He gave me a look that showed a mixture of contempt and surprisingness. Then he said: “Okay, good luck on the pass tomorrow.” And then, he promptly left.

The next day, I woke up early and began my climb with Barnabus. We talked along the way, and he explained to me that should we come into danger, he would do this ‘trick’ that always worked. He acted it out. He said: “Look I’ll give you all the gold in the world that I have.” He held up a tiny gold nugget. As I looked closer I saw about 6 gold nuggets stashed in his sleeve.

As we walked, Barnabus talked with a person, and they seemed to be friends. He then came back and told me that there were bandits and one of them had shot a woman because they heard a woman scream (Lol it was actually because Bryant was trying to shoot a deer and Colena screamed to scare it off). We passed a spot with two conspicuous blood stains and a couple of gun shells. We continued on.

Suddenly, like fifteen guns went off. “They might’ve caught the bandits - sounds like an execution to me,” Barnabus said. A few moments later, Bryant, Colena, Christina, Chelsea, Jerry, Ada, Curtis, Cynthia, Angela, Emily, and Ronald came bursting out of the woods, somehow all of them having some kind of bullet wound except Christina, Ada, and Ronald. In a flash, Barnabus drew his knife and said to me: “Are they the bandits?” I said, “No.” He lowered his knife. “There must be Cliftons in those trees,” he said. “They’re a bit lazy, and tend to lie in wait. Let me tell you something about the Yukon: Never trust pretty women who come asking for help.”

That was weird.

Sunday, October 11, 1896 Hello again, We’ve reached Dawson City now. There’s a whole lot of people in red coats in the town, holding lanterns. One of them saw us and came towards us, raising his lantern in the subdued glow of the stars scattered across the sky and the half moon. “What the heck happened to you?” he said, looking worried.

Colena replied: “We had fun, but not everything went as planned. We still had fun, though.”

“You’re sixteen, aren’t you? Where are your parents?”

“The place where dead people go.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Emily started explaining about how they all got shot up. I listened intently, as it was interesting, what they had done. So basically, they went with a woman who claimed her sister was injured playing with a dog, and got shot up by Clifton’s people. The policeman said something that I couldn’t hear, and then we continued into the town. I noticed a man with epaulettes on his uniform, and I watched as every single policeman that passed him saluted him or nodded, giving some sort of recognition.

I have a feeling that something bad is going to happen.

SESSION THREE

Greed and Gunpowder

Jocelyn CHAPTER 3: GREED AND GUNPOWDER Dawson city was a much larger city when viewed up close. Numerous tall buildings dotted the streets and festive lights were hung all around like stars twinkling in the night. By the time I arrived, it was already dusk. I looked around and spotted a large tall crimson red colored structure with a triangular roof. It rose above the other buildings. Ivory white colored wooden beams lined the roof, windows and doors. Cream white fences boarded off the second floor balcony while pale white pillars supported it. Above hung an oak sign that read “Dawson Hotel”. I breathed a sigh of relief. At long last after many nights of camping in the wilderness, I could finally sleep comfortably. I quickly rushed in and used the last of the money that Conrad had given me to book a room. Then I dashed up the stairs and decided to turn in early.

Later that night, I woke up to get a drink. I could faintly hear a gunshot fired in the distance. I blinked. A few moments passed and nothing happened. Perhaps it was just my imagination. I decided it was best to continue sleeping as tomorrow would be a long day.

The following morning, I woke up to find the rest of my group mates chatting away in the lobby. I quickly signed out and kissed goodbye to the comfort of the soft bed. The hotel was stationed in the center of town with a Social house directly across from it. A clothing store and an ice cream shop stood on either side. I eyed the ice cream shop and my mouth watered. I reached my hands into my pocket only to find no money inside. I sighed.

The plot that Conrad had bought was near the outskirts of town. The farther we walked, the less populated it was. Suddenly, something in the corner of my eye caught attention. It was a bulletin board with 3 wanted posters stuck on it. One was of a sketch of a grim looking man named Cliffton Rich whom I heard was the gang leader of a largely feared gang.

The other 2 were of 2 unknown men wanted for shooting and Mounties. Wait, that kind of familiar. Don’t tell me it’s Jerry and Curtis. The poster read “Reward $200 dead or alive”. That’s kind of tempting. I’m pretty short on money right now. I smacked myself on the cheek and quickly pushed that thought away. Further down the road, stood 4 coffins. 2 men dressed like bandits laid in the first 2. The other 2 were of a man dressed in a full Mountie uniform and the women who tricked them. They appear to have died from a gunshot. I shivered. What a frightening sight.

The warm morning sun was high in the sky when we arrived at plot 199 (Conrads plot).

It was all bare wilderness. We spent the rest of the day setting up camp and organizing our supplies.

The next morning, everyone got to work. Some began swinging their pickaxes or started panning for gold. Others decided that it was a good idea to build bombs. I winced. These troublemakers will one day get us all killed!

Anyways, I decided that it would be best for me to rest and wait for my injuries to heal.

That was how I spent the next 2 weeks or so. Of course, that’s not all I did. Occasionally I’d make my way to town and open up my stand again. It wasn’t popular at first but as time went on, more people began to stop by. I was pretty happy with the amount of money I made. Sometimes when I got bored, I would stop by groups of people who played cards and would get a whiff of things here and there. Other times I would simply explore the area and see if anything interesting was going on. During the weekends, my group and I would pop by the social house and stay for a drink or 2.

However, these peaceful days did not last long. One evening a peculiar mail was sent to us.

It read “We hereby inform you that your company ‘Wagner and Assorted Children’ is officially dissolved due to the recent death of Conrad Michigan”. It dated back to 2 days ago.

Not long after that, a letter from Conrad arrived.

It said, “Sorry. HIde the gold. Meet me in Last Hope.” It was written in a rushed handwriting with no date on it. It seems to be written before his death 2 days ago.

Just then, a Mountie wearing a crimson red jacket with gold epaulet and decor on it marched in.

He said, “I’m sorry to interrupt. I’m looking for associates of Conrad Michigan. It seems that our esteemed friend was in a tight spot and ended up being shot in the back while fleeing from law enforcement. I’m unsure of the details but I believe that he borrowed money from multiple criminals and ended up with a huge amount of debt. All mining on plot 199 will stop. Money from Conrad is to be given to debt collectors. Anything mined within the plot is to be confiscated. Any food or other item will also be confiscated. Should anyone disobey, it will be seen as a test of authority and crime.”

I was shocked. I froze there pondering on what to do next. Since Conrad is dead, any gold mined wouldn’t have to be shared with him anymore. Such a shame I won’t be able to keep any gold. At least I already spent all of the money that Conrad had previously given me so I

wouldn’t really suffer any noticeable losses. Then a thought occurred. Perhaps I could keep some. After all what they don’t find, they can’t take. I shook my head. With my skills, I would probably be able to get some, some other way. I wonder…… Just as I was debating what to do, I heard shouting and found Colena being dragged away by the Mountie. Apparently, she was being nosy and the Chief mountie is a crazy person who cracks at people who don’t follow the law. Eek, that must not be fun. Oh well, we can always just pick her up tomorrow.

A few days passed and everything seemed normal. Everyone went back to doing what they were doing as if nothing happened. Basically completely ignoring what the Mountie had said. I as well started to look around for gold just in case. In the end, a total of 8 gold nuggets were found by everyone after a few weeks of hard work.

As usual, at the end of the week everyone headed to town to stay at the social house. This time however, our old chatty friend Barnabus was nowhere to be found. Aside from that and Chilkoot pass temporarily closing from too much snow, everything else seemed normal.

The following week when we headed back to the social house, Barnabus was still nowhere to be found. How peculiar, here I thought he enjoyed coming here a lot.

As the sky got darker, stars slowly started to appear. Unfortunately, it was quite cloudy out making it unusually dark and creepy. A moonless night, the perfect time for a murder to strike. I thought back to all those mystery novels I read back then.

Just then, 2 men wearing clothes that resembled lawyers walked in. They sat down at the bar counter.

“What a tiring journey I say. It took the guide a solid 4 hours to get us on this side of the mountain. After tonight, it’ll be all business.” one of the men said.

“I know right. How tiresome.” the other replied. Lowering his voice he said, “I heard this time we’re supposed to hire some men and women of violence who can shoot.”

The first men chuckled. “I don’t see the need to. We’re only here to liquidate a few 15 to 16 people…….. Barnabus……. and some people called wacky or was it wagner something children…….”

The other men laughed. They quickly changed their topic and moved on to talking about something else. However after hearing all that, we couldn’t sit still anymore and decided it was best for us to leave.

As we stepped outside, the cold wind blew across my face sending chills down my spine. I got goosebumps just thinking about their conversation. I pulled my coat collar higher and tightened the woven scarf I had around my neck.. I tucked my gloved hands into my pocket and picked up my pace hoping to get back as soon as possible.

Suddenly, I heard raised voices off the path. I stopped and paused to listen. The others slowly followed suit. 2 people were shouting and 1 person was responding. 2 sets of hoofbeats rode past. They rode swiftly through the moonless night without any lanterns lighting the way. All of a sudden, there was a muffled voice, gunshots that echoed through my ears and a moan of pain. Then there was silence.

Finally, we worked up the courage and decided to go and check it out. As we edged closer, an awful stench filled my nose. I quietly brushed away the tall grass in front of me and there it was, lying in a pool of crimson red blood was a person. Slowly I creeped closer. As my eyes got used to the darkness, my jaws dropped and I gasped. Quickly, I covered my mouth with my gloved hand, to stop myself from screaming. I recognized this person. It was Barnabus lying in a pool of his own deep red colored blood. That was when I realized that there was a murderer on the loose. If I don’t find him soon, we might be next.

Dear Diary,

April 14, 2021

We wake up, after a horrible night, feeling okay. We then began to get ready for the day.

Meaning, we discussed some stuff and talked a bit. Anyhow, Barnabus also decided to show up which is just amazing, so we also talked. We head north, seeing 2 mean digging a grave at a graveyard. We just walk past and reflect silently, I mean I was definitely not really impacted by this. We walk around, to see a sign with the words “Welcome to Dawson city”. There’s another sign underneath talking about the leader of a gang? I’m not too sure though, everything was a bit blurry huh. Wanted posters, and that was basically all I remembered from my understanding.

Anyhow, we just kept on going north, for about 2 hours, kinda lost track of time though. We finally arrived at plot 199. However, it was bland, basically nothing was there. So we all decided to settle in. With Rachael making bombs, to finding firewood, it was pretty boring. Then, we get ready for gold. Finally, a purpose. The reason I came, to get rich. We go to the river, and start to search for gold. Taking a pan and shifting through the dirt to find chunks of amazing, shiny gold.

For the week, each and every one of us had something to do. For me, of course, being the person I am, I obviously chose to find gold!! Despite my bad health conditions. But, people like Rachael, she built a bomb, haha typical. Later, Barnabus comes along, informing us that he found a giant piece of gold. He shows us and I was practically drooling for that piece of gold. A girl comes along, giving us some letters. One being from Conrad. We all were informed that unfortunately Conrad had died. Then, Colena being Colena, she ended up getting arrested? Crazy week.

It’s finally the next week, since my health was pretty bad, I decided to of course heal because I didn’t want to die on this trip! I still need my gold. Most of the other people went to go hunt for gold, only 1 piece of gold this week. However, we ended up joining a social house, but surprisingly Barnabus wasn’t there? We were confused because he enjoyed last weeks.? No one heard anything about Barnabus.

Third week, obviously I had to go and search for gold again, now that I was much better!

3 gold nuggets were found. Now, we have a total of 8! Amazing. We head back to the town, seeing many people. We go to the social house but we leave, hearing an odd conversation.

Suddenly, we hear a gunshot. We rush to the path, seeing someone lying on the ground, submerged in a pool of blood. We look closely, seeing Barnabus. Lying on the floor, dead, no gold, no nothing, just him and blood. We

Bryant. Z Sunday, September 19 Hallo, ich denke Today we leave for our plot, which Conrad calls “land o’ riches”. The map calls it Plot 199. I go to the social house on an ill-fated attempt to buy a jar of Whitman’s Chocolates.

I walk up to the bartender, an elderly woman wiping a jar. The jar has candy, unfortunately not Whitman’s Chocolate, but candy corn. Which will suffice. I ask her whether the ten cent (ten cents!) cost is for the whole jar, or just one piece.

“Whaddya think, laddie?”

“Alright, so could I buy a jar?”

“Ya want a jar? 25 cents” “Yes, please.”

Which I plunk down on the table.

And she reaches under the bar table and pulls out an empty jar. “Here you go, lad.” She chuckles.

Feeling very confused, I give up my quest to purchase candy corn and instead ask for enough ketchup to fill the jar.

She gives me an odd look and says “whatever ya say, lad. $2.50.”. A grotesque amount to be paying for ketchup, but I have the money. I give her it, and she fills my previously empty jar with ketchup. Ketchup is a fairly high-calorie food, is tasty and is great for frightening people with, so I’ll say I got a fair deal.

We march out of Dawson City after about an hour. Emily gives us her reminder about how we should be more careful. Such wisdom is, of course, not heeded by Jerry and Curtis, who are making an explosive and sharpening a bayonet, respectively.

Rachael is curiously eyeing her jar of gunpowder, which does not have an accompanying weapon. Colena isn’t really doing anything, although I’m sure she’ll find a way to get into trouble.

Colena is stupid.

After a few hours, we walk past a graveyard. A few men, dressed in black, are digging four graves. The coffins which hold the dead are still open. There are two bandits, with holes in their chests, the old woman that led us into the woods, and a mountie, with a hole in his stomach. The mountie looks exactly like the one Jerry shot the other day, except the one in the coffin’s face is pale. None of the men look at us as we pass, and Jerry shifts uncomfortably.

On further reflection, there is no courthouse in Dawson City. Criminals who are caught seem to disappear without a trial.

And along the way, we did hear several rifle shots..

That is made even more disconcerting when we walk past two workmen nailing “WANTED” signs onto a board. There’s a bandit named “Cliffton”, AKA Lindsey Shoester. He’s apparently worth $5000. There are two other papers that we can’t see.

Colena, of course, goes up and asks the bad questions. “What are you doing?” The workmen replied “baking bread.”. Colena replies “that’s some odd bread” as Emily tugs on her coat. One man turns around and tells Colena that she’ll “get shot for asking those questions.” Then, I maneuver around that worker and see the leaflet he’s posting to the sign.

Jerry Curtis Wanted in Connection of the Murder of a Lawman.

Wanted for Firing on an Officer of the Law $500 Reward: DEAD OR ALIVE $200 Reward: DEAD OR ALIVE

The artist who drew Jerry’s face was obviously an amateur. His face is bloated, his hairline is too high and his nose is the size of his crude explosive. Curtis’ face is a much better picture, and he grips his bayonet, sharp enough now to shave with.

Fortunately, Curtis is in the middle of the group, so the workmen don’t see that his face is an accurate representation of the one in the wanted poster.

Colena opens her mouth to ask another question, but Emily peels her off before she gets us all shot again. Good choice.

Colena is recklessly confident, but no longer stupid. Such recklessness must have a purpose.

We finally arrive at our plot, where we all settle down to work. Emily builds our shelter and digs a few holes in case we need to defend our plot. Jerry puts the finishing touching on his explosive, which is a bottle of strong liquor with a slow match glued inside with resin. The firing pin is a match to be pulled out of a sandpaper tube, which lights his slow match on fire, and makes sure the liquor catches fire in a few seconds.

The only question remaining is: what happens if the match falls out of the sandpaper?

Rachael puts her jar of gunpowder to use and makes a more reliable explosive. Which is equally worrying as an unreliable one.

Ronald and Ada set out to the woods to find some firewood. Colena, Christina, Angela, Chelsea, Curtis and I dig for gold. And Jocelyn sits down to heal from the multiple wounds she received during our altercation in the woods.

Before we go to sleep, Curtis protests about his bounty. “I shot the man just as good as you did! How come I’m only worth $200?”

Brave man.

Monday, September 20 No gold found yet.

My journal entries will be shorter as I am off to find gold.

Jerry’s explosive device finally goes off. While he takes his lunch break, a squirrel mistakes the match for food, pulls out the firing pin with its teeth, and bolts when it sees the flame. No one is hurt.

Emily manages to install a periscope into each of the foxholes and finishes pitching the tents.

Rachael almost blows us up when she nearly drops her match on her gunpowder.

Tuesday, September 21 No gold found yet.

Colena almost falls into a fast-flowing river when she pans for gold at a very aggressive angle, and at a very wrong river.

Jerry starts work on another explosive, this time (thankfully) with a lock for the firing pin.

Curtis finds a congregation of several squirrels meeting along the river and shoots 7 of them, enough for us to eat half of them. Ronald turns out to be a great cook, and roasts them splendidly.

Rachael finishes a fuse on her bomb.

Wednesday, September 22 No gold found yet.

Christina screams when she sees a low-flying bat about to attack our breakfast (she has a mortal fear of those hairy creatures). Jerry, ever the marksman, manages to shoot it. Ronald refuses to cook it.

Emily builds a few chairs out of logs she finds, and we eat dinner on them.

Jerry manages to shoot a lumbering, aggressive bear, which no one can figure out how to skin, and goes untouched. Shame.

Colena becomes upset at the sight of the dead bear.

Thursday, September 23 No gold found yet.

I am about to shoot a deer when Colena denies me that and screams, depriving me of yet another deer.

I settle for fishing after that incident, and catch a disappointingly small salmon and a big largemouth bass. Ronald does a good job turning them into supper.

Ronald and Ada stumble on a berry bush, and Colena turns the apples they’ve found into a great apple pie.

Emily catches Rachael placing landmines around the camp. Jerry, with the help of a few of his liquor-grenades, violently defuses them. Rachael claims her landmines are just “precautions”.

Friday, September 24 1 Gold Ring Found so far A squirrel runs across one of Rachael’s landmines. We can still recognize a few bits and pieces of the squirrel, and we hold a funeral for it. Cynthia turns out to be good at singing “The Lord is My Shepherd” and “Abide With Me”. The tombstone was a tiny rock with: Simon the Squirrel Unknown Year - 1897 Cause of Death: Explosive Device “He was a good squirrel.”

Another squirrel, presumably one of his family members, joins the funeral procession as we lay him to rest in a matchbox, covered in mud and glossed with resin.

Today’s fishing was more successful, with a huge chinook salmon!

Ada and Ronald, while collecting firewood, find a dead body. Emily, who by chance went with them today, warns them not to disrespect the dead. Ada obliges, but Ronald takes the man’s gold ring.

Curtis almost shoots Jocelyn when he mistakes her for a deer. A bullet lodges itself into her gold pan.

Saturday, September 25 Hola supongo Today, we go back to Dawson City for supplies. Curtis loads his rifle and fiddles with his bayonet, currently safely sheathed and kept under the bread he’s carrying. We walk into the social house, I buy more ketchup to replenish my dwindling stocks, Emily orders a few ridiculously priced shovels, Rachael buys more gunpowder and Jerry purchases a matchbox, sandpaper, a thin rope, a few glass bottles and gunpowder. Then we order food and drink. Alcohol is a terrible waste of money and taste buds, so I have a ham and cheese sandwich (which you can never go wrong with) and water. Then, Barnabus walks in with a smile stretching from ear to ear and plops down in a seat next to Rachael.

“How are ya laddie? Enjoying yer first week in the Yukon?”

“Yes, very much. How are you?”

“Fine, fine. Quite very happy, too. Ya wanna compare our gold?”

“No thanks.”

“Alright then, feller. I’ll go first.”

And then Barnabus pulls out a chunk of gold larger than his fist.

It’s, surprisingly, a very smooth piece of the precious metal, shaped like a fist. The size of the average adult’s fist is around 7 inches. A cubic centimetre of gold is around 19g, meaning that fist-full of gold contains eight kilograms of gold, or around 250 troy ounces, and therefore is worth $4750!

Rachael’s eyes are wider than the pie Colena made for us the other day. A hush falls around the bar, and it seems like everyone is staring at Barnabus. However, the poor man doesn’t notice. How foolish. Someone will have him dead by the end of the month for that.

Poor man.

Barnabus orders everyone a round of drinks, which I don’t touch because of my aversion to alcohol. Barnabus then snatches up mine and drinks, gulping down his litre with a few rapid movements of his Adam’s apple and one breath. He buys a sandwich, pays and gets up to leave, saying “Well, I’ll sell this laddie at the gold exchange t’morrow. Have a good night.” And he pushes the door and leaves, unaware that everyone’s eyes are fixated on him. A few have jealous glares in their eyes. One looks like a murderer. I know for sure that poor Barnabus will be dead soon, by the hand of one of the people in this bar.

Then the door slams, and everyone gets back to what they were doing. The sandwich is a little dry, but still palatable.

We stay for a few more hours. I buy a tiny kerosene lantern that, despite its simplicity, will still put a hole of $10 in my pocket. I finally am able to procure a few pieces of candy (Whitman’s Chocolate!) from a less sarcastic bartender, this time a young man who introduces himself as Noah. Then, as the sun begins to droop and Emily recommends we leave, a young mailwoman walks in. She’s a tiny thing, not even a teenager yet. She looks around, walks over to us, and asks “are you Wagner & Associated Children?” We all nod, except Colena, who corrects her. “We’re Wager & Assorted Children.” She nods, and says “I was paid 10 cents to read this out to you, so listen up.”

WESTERN UNION FIRST-CLASS TELEGRAM THE 23RD OF APRIL, 1897 TO WAGNER AND ASSORTED CHILDREN INC Dear employees of Wagner and Assorted Children STOP Due to the untimely death of Mr Conrad Michigan of Wagner and Assorted Children, and to pay off his immense outstanding debt his creditors have ordered a total liquidation of his assets STOP This the plot he has assigned to you, namely Plot 199 STOP You shall have a few weeks to pack your belongings and leave any and all gold acquired in your expedition on Plot 199 STOP Failure to abide by this order shall be regarded as robbery and any and all violators shall be punished accordingly STOP Please accept our heartfelt our condolences FULL STOP Then there’s another from Conrad himself.

WESTERN UNION FIRST-CLASS TELEGRAM THE 23RD OF APRIL, 1897 TO WAGNER AND ASSOR CHIL its conrd STOP in troble STOP need hlp STOP meet at lst hpe FULL STOP She hands the letters to Jerry and walks out of the house, saying “happy prospecting!” Colena wonders out loud how Conrad could possibly send us a telegram while dead. Just as she leaves, an RCMP officer, wearing the rank of brigadier-general, comes in. The room falls silent, and the bartender stands for him. He orders a Scotch whisky, then asks “Please, where is Wagner & Associated Children?” Emily tells Colena to hush, but an old woman points us out. Colena then corrects the man, saying “we’re Wagner & Assorted Children”. Which is pretty terrible for us. That sort of sauciness is what gets you in trouble with powerful people like him.

He glares at Colena and says, “hello ladies and gentlemen. I’m here to inform you that the owner of your company, Mr. Michigan, has unfortunately passed. As he held substantial debts from Wells Fargo, the bank has issued an order of liquidation.”

Colena blurts out “what happened to him?”

“I have not been informed thoroughly of the matter, however, to my understanding, Mr. Michigan was shot in the back while attempting to flee police. He did not cooperate with police on the matter of the other part of his debt, which he owed to criminal organizations, and as such, police attempted to arrest him. When he fled, he was shot in the back. Continuing, I will be back in a few weeks to check on your progress in vacating the property.”

“Why?” Colena says again. Emily makes an attempt to shush her, but she continues. “Can’t you just leave us alone?”

The brigadier-general turns a deep shade of red. “Young woman. I understand you are in grief about the death of your manager. But I will NOT be spoken to like that, and you will RESPECT MY AUTHORITY!”. With that, he drags Colena out of the door, kicking and screaming.

A needless altercation with law enforcement.

We book at a hotel for the night to wait for Colena. We sleep on mats spread on the floor with thin blankets, but the hotel still finds that service worth $20 for each person.

Sunday, September 26 1 Gold Ring found so far Colena was released from jail this morning. It turns out she actually managed to injure the brigadier-general for the night, by tripping him. The poor brigadier, who had only intended to lecture her on authority outside of the bar, instead threw her into a rat-infested cell because of that. The brave lass tried to escape, using her sharp hairbrush as a file, but was stopped by a redcoat who threatened to stab her and shoved her back into the cell. She was transferred, for some reason, to a high security cell that day, where her cellmates were a bandit and a murderer, both of whom cackled throughout the night.

Not pleasant and entirely unnecessary.

We walked back to our plot, and arrived as the sun started to dip below the horizon. It turned out that I had gotten my money’s worth, and the kerosene lantern and my electric torch were enough to cover our campsite and to keep watch for

“nasty people with shenanigans up their sleeves”, according to Colena. She even decided to keep watch for a few hours, camping in a foxhole brandishing her bow. That gave me no kind of reassurance against the “nasty people”, as I had seen her hopeless accuracy with the bow against those bandits, who had laughed instead of groaning in pain.

Monday, September 27 1 Gold Ring, 1 Gold Nugget found and a pinch of silver found so far Grenade count: 5, 0 used Someone pulled a small gold nugget out of their pan, although I’m not sure who it was.

I didn’t find gold, but I somehow found a large chunk of silver ore in the river. There was maybe enough silver to form half of a small marble.

Good haul today. 3 rainbow trout, 1 large-mouth bass, 1 salmon.

Rachael starts building up our camp again. She dug a few primitive trenches and she finds it necessary to invest wood into a parapet for the trenches. She’s also decided to assign some of us to guard duty. I’m in the first shift, and Curtis will replace me after 12.

Curtis shoots a bunch of squirrels that were, for some reason, lined up. His bullet gets us three for the night, which Rachael uses as an incentive for guard duty.

Colena refuses to eat the squirrels.

Jerry makes a few grenades and gives them out. A smart device with a safety catch, firing pin, explosive and shrapnel (the small glass jars). The one thing is, you need to carefully time your throw. If you throw it too early, it shatters prematurely and doesn’t have that much effect. If you throw it too late, people will find you in pieces.

Tuesday, September 28 1 Gold Ring, 1 Gold Nugget found and a pinch of silver found so far Grenade count: 10, 1 used Rachael refines Emily’s icebox. She has preserved the rest of my fish in it, which we have today.

Jerry comes up with the bright idea of grenading a bunch of low-flying geese. The glass rips through all of the poor birds. A few pieces bounce off of our pans. Christina, who was close enough, saw the grenade and put her pan over her head. She was unhurt. Curtis got a little piece of glass in his coat.

While on guard duty, a bear attacks Rachael’s foxhole. Rachael, unarmed, throws a grenade at the bear. This provokes an angry reaction from Curtis and awakens everyone.

Rachael builds a chest to store our ammunition and grenades.

Wednesday, September 29 1 Gold Ring, 1 Gold Nugget found and a pinch of silver found so far Grenade count: 15, 1 used Curtis gets his revenge for Rachael blowing up the bear by firing at Rachael’s backpack. A bullet pierces through Rachael’s biscuit tin.

I caught a disappointingly small trout.

Ronald stumbles on a berry bush. Colena makes a blackberry pie today, which is less of a success than the one before.

After much persuasion, Emily gives Rachael the go-ahead to place landmines around the camp.

Thursday, September 30 1 Gold Ring, 1 Gold Nugget and a pinch of silver found so far Grenade Count: 30, 1 used Rachael attaches wires to her landmines & draws out placements for review.

Jerry has an especially productive day today, managing to make 15 grenades.

Rachael almost blows herself up by accidentally pulling on the pin of one grenade, but she is saved by Jerry’s firing pin lock.

Friday, October 1 1 Gold Ring and 1 Gold Nuggets found so far Grenade Count: 42, 3 used Rachael digs small trenches to place the grenades and their wire in.

Rachael builds her detonation button: My electric torch with a hole drilled in the bottom to attach a few wires.

Jerry takes all the grenades through a rigorous quality check, and comes up with the conclusion that 2 are not up to standard. He blows those up.

Saturday, October 2 Hi Ego coniecto We go back into town again for more supplies. Before leaving though, we debate leaving Curtis behind, but we decide to keep him in the middle of the group. This doesn’t stop him from loading his rifle and gripping his bayonet as we walk along the long road.

When we get to the social house, Barnabus isn’t there. Probably getting richer and richer out there on his promising plot. I order water, the only thing that seems not to have been affected by the rampant inflation out here. My ham and cheese sandwich has increased in price, and is now $0.50. Still a semi-reasonable price to pay for warm food, and it pales at the $5 expense Curtis incurred through the novel Union Club sandwich, apparently a sandwich with lettuce, graham bread, tomatoes and the hugely expensive turkey. Rich man. Probably found gold.

After a few more hours of conversation and winning in blackjack against several people, we start packing up. It’s been a productive day for me. I won $10 from Jerry, $15 from Curtis, but lost $3 to Emily. You probably think I’ve been terribly cruel to Curtis, but you needn’t think that. I bought him another Union Club sandwich and one for myself. I now steadfastly believe it is a terrible way to lose $5.

We leave at 4:00pm. I’m not the only one who has made a profit. Emily won $7, Ada got $13 and Ronald raked in $25!

Ronald is incredibly proficient in blackjack. He has the odds of everything memorized, and won $1 from me. A hapless man named Ogdan in another table was Ronald’s main victim, ceding $20 to him. Ouch.

By the time we get there, the sun is far down the horizon. The westwards sky is still tinted pink and yellow, although that is quickly receding. We eat a quick dinner of the vegetables Emily bought and Ronald cooked, then tuck into bed. At around 11:00pm, Jocelyn screams at an invading army of termites, which Jerry quells by crushing the termites under a spade.

Sunday, October 3 1 Gold Ring, 1 Gold Nugget and a pinch of silver found so far Grenade count: 52, 6 used Jerry stops the production of grenades, finally disposing of 3 grenades today. He throws the last two grenades into the hole the first grenade made but a glass shard whips off his hat. Someone walks by that hole today, stares into it, quickly bends down and takes out something shiny.

Curtis shoots a deer and Ronald cooks it masterfully.

I catch a salmon. Emily puts it in the icebox for tomorrow as the deer is enough for today.

Emily, despite not being a fan of guard duty, keep’s Colena’s system. She mandates that everyone on guard duty should have a weapon. There are only four (two rifles and two pistols) which belong to Curtis, me and Jerry, so we share them.

Monday, October 4 1 Gold Ring, 1 Gold Nugget and a pinch of silver found so far Colena jammed my rifle yesterday while on guard duty, so I spent an hour fixing it.

Rachael’s landmine plans are reviewed and revised by Emily, Angela, Jocelyn and me. She will place 32 of Jerry’s grenades in a circle around our camp, which will be detonated by her button.

Rachael plants 2 landmines today.

We finish the deer, which has proved to be abnormally small. We eat the leftover vegetables and my salmon.

I catch a ridiculously small trout and let it go.

Tuesday, October 5 1 Gold Ring, 1 Gold Nugget and a pinch of silver found so far I catch three salmon (!) today and a large rainbow trout.

Cynthia sees a bear on guard duty and takes a shot at it. She misses and hits the tree. The bear, luckily, turns around and disappears into the woods.

Wednesday, October 6 1 Gold Ring, 3 Gold Nuggets and a pinch of silver found so far Two people digging together each pull out a little, shiny, yellow thing. They look at each other, then return to digging.

I catch a large trout.

Ada shoots a squirrel on guard duty, which she roasts quite nicely as a midnight snack. Each guard gets a small hunk of meat.

Cynthia drops her pan in the river. I have another one, which I give to her.

Thursday, October 7 1 Gold Ring, 3 Gold Nuggets and a pinch of silver found so far I didn't catch anything today.

Jerry and I see a goose at the same time today during guard duty. We fire at the same time. The rifle shot is faster, and the bird shudders, shudders again and falls to the ground. Ada and Emily rush over, thinking someone’s invading. We retrieve it, and Ronald cooks it during the next watch group.

Friday, October 8 1 Gold Ring, 4 Gold Nuggets and a pinch of silver found so far We ate the goose Ronald roasted for us in the early morning.

I catch three average sized trout today.

Someone, while digging, stares at something in shock, dives for it, and quickly puts it in their pocket. Probably gold.

Saturday, October 9 Salut cred We march out again today, later than usual. Colena sees a piece of gold slowly tumbling in the river, and jumps in to get it, before remembering we’re in the Yukon and the river is deep and quickly flowing. May I also mention Colena can’t swim? Luckily for her, it’s May and the thermometer reads 12 degrees celsius today. Also, Ada is nearby and saves her.

Colena seems less worried that she was about to drown and more upset about losing that piece of gold. Which is all the better. Someone on a nearby plot evidently sees it, jumps in and comes up triumphantly waving his gold nugget. It’s about half the size of Barnabus’, and he grips it in his fist as it glistens in the sun.

Maybe Colena was right. Still, she couldn’t swim. No sense having gold if you’re dead.

We walk to the social house, and spend a few hours there. Over in the corner, Rachael discovers guncotton, which releases several times more energy than gunpowder, and buys a few jarfuls. Ada wins $5 from Jerry and $7 from Curtis, before losing $13 to me. I turn out to be no match for Ronald when he wins $12 from me, which I turn around only half. In the end, I cede $6 to him. I persuade Curtis the Union Club sandwich isn’t worth the money, and I introduce him to the wonders of the ham and cheese sandwich. He seems to enjoy it, and orders two more on my tab. Barnabus isn’t there again. Probably stuffing himself with gold. I wonder if someone has made him pay for his loose tongue yet. Hopefully not.

Then, two well-dressed men walk in. They’re in suits, and are shivering at the cold temperature despite their thick clothing.

The bartender starts the conversation. “What are you fellows doing here?”

“Foreclosing. A whole bunch of them owe us money.”

“Really? Who?” “Uhhhh (he draws out a list): Klondike Gold, Wally’s Alchemy, Yukon Gold Enterprises, Barnabus, Smith & Johnson, Johnny & Brothers, (he snickers) The Randos, Goldspace, and Wagner and Associated Children (Emily claps her hand onto Colena’s mouth and tells her to be quiet). Especially those Wagner folks. They bought up, what, 15 or 16 plots of land here.”

The other well-dressed man starts. “Yeah. We’re foreclosing on all of them. But some of them might not cooperate. And I hear some of them are even criminals. Two of them, Jeremy and Curt (Jerry and Curtis suppress a laugh), shot up two mounties.

Wanted pretty badly by the army. So we gotta hire some violent people to help us foreclose on them.”

We decided it would be a pretty good idea to leave at that point.

To not arouse their suspicions, we leave over half an hour, which gives me enough time to win $3 back from Ronald. Then, when all of us are out of the social house, we walk back to our plot.

There’s two loud voices from one campsite and another more muffled one. We halt and hide on the bushes, those of us with weapons loading them. Curtis, paranoid at arrest, fixes his bayonet. Then there’s the loud crack of a rifle, a muffled scream, a thunk, and two people walking off. A few seconds later, there are two hoofbeats pounding our way.

Colena, of course, elects to shoot them. This time, the group decides not to, and plus, Colena only has a massively inaccurate bow. We vote to go to the place where the shot was heard, with Jerry and Curtis leading. They crash through the bushes and see a man face down in his tent. His pockets are empty.

Then, we turn him over, and stare into the blank, lifeless eyes of Barnabus.

Turns out I was only off by 9 days.

Chelsea Jiang We headed deeper into the west for some reason no one told me about. This is what I hated the most about being a kid: no one tells you anything about what's going on. Anyways, it wasn’t a very nice place. There was a white sign that read 199. Dad told me that this was the place we were going to stay in for the next couple of weeks. I looked around. There was nothing there. Nothing. So we filled the day with tons of activities.

Some people were having fun, some were making bombs and gunpowder, some were setting up our tents and making the environment more comfortable. Dad, Margaret and I spent the day setting up all our tents, clearing bushes, organizing logs for the campfire, and etc. We continued doing this for a couple of days. We had to get ready to mine for gold.

Dad taught me some ways of finding gold. One way was to take a pan and scoop in the river, because lots of gold is found in running water. Or you could dig in the ground but the best way was searching in the river. We didn’t find any gold at first. I was starting to feel really lazy since I thought I was just wasting my time. The others weren’t having any luck either. At least they weren’t telling us if they were. Then finally Sunday came, whoohoo! We headed into town, and the weather was surprisingly warm. We went into the social house, which is basically somewhere you can eat yummy food, interact with others, and relax.

This is also somewhere for people to brag or complain to each other about how much gold they found. Of course I stayed silent since we didn’t find any. I noticed that the older people seemed to be quieter and sat eating and drinking or playing cards. While the younger people tended to boast loudly to one another. Dad, Margaret and I sat at a table with a girl named Rachael, the one who saved the man on Chilkoot trail. Speaking of him, I found out that his name was actually Barnabus and he was also looking for gold.

He joined us at our table. “I hope you had a successful week in the Yukon!” He said.

“I certainly had a great week.”

“Did you find any gold?” I asked him.

“I did find gold.” He responded.

“Did y’all find anything? Show me and let's compare.”

Rachael told him we didn’t want to compare, which probably meant she didn’t find any gold either. “Ok, let me show you mine then.” He says as he pulls something out of his coat.

It was something wrapped in a piece of cloth. CLONK! He sets it down on the table. He had a huge smile on his face. He unwrapped the cloth to reveal a solid golden nugget about the size of his hand. We all stared at it in awe. There was a moment of silence.

“I’ve just been looking at it for the past day and a half. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” he says. Then he wraps it up again and puts it back in his coat. He told us he was going to sell it when he gets home like everyone else who was lucky enough to find gold. He

said he was going to retire right after, because he would never have to work again for the rest of his life. Lucky. As the sun sat, Barnabus said goodbye and left.

As the sky darkened, a girl with a grey cap walked into the social house. She had a brown satchel on her shoulder and in the satchel were several letters. She took one out and looked around as if searching for something. She sees our group and starts walking towards us.

“Are you Wagner and assorted children?” She asked. We all nodded. I thought it was quite a silly name for a company though.

“I’ve got a piece of registered mail for y’all.” she said. Then she began reading the letter.

Ahem. Attention employees, partners, and other associates of Wagner and assorted children, I hereby inform you that your company has been dissolved. And the assets there are to be preserved and liquidated. As a result of the untimely death of Conrad Michigan...and a whole bunch of other stuff I can’t really remember.

I heard gasps come from almost everyone. Conrad? Dead? We couldn’t believe it. “Have a good day!” She says as she finishes reading and places a letter that was addressed to us on the table. Then she walks away. Someone picked up the letter and read it. It was from Conrad Michigan.

Hide the gold. Meet me in last hope. -Conrad.

We assumed the letter was written before Conrad’s death. More gasps and confused voices.

Just then another individual walked in. The room fell silent. He was wearing a red jacket with golden decorations on his shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt folks, I’m just looking for the associates of Conrad Michigan. Any of them here?” He asks.

The woman behind the bar points at us. Thanks a lot, I heard someone mutter. He looks towards us and takes off his hat. “I have some bad news, your esteemed friend and employer Michigan got himself into a bit of a tight spot. And I don’t know all the exact details, but he was shot in the back while he was fleeing from law enforcement.

Just up the Chilkoot pass.” He announced. “It seems that he was engaged with criminal activities. He borrowed money from several criminals and they wanted him to pay them back. And somewhere along the way he refused to cooperate with law enforcement and unfortunately he was killed.”

And after that I got kind of bored since he started talking about tons of boring stuff. I didn’t necessarily feel sad since I barely knew Conrad but I was worried that we would get sent home or even worse, go to jail. But something he said caught my attention again. “If you continue to mine in the plot that would be considered a crime, and if you take anything from the plot that you may have already pulled out of the ground, that would also be considered a crime. Additionally, I’m told that any money Conrad gave you is also being reclaimed by his debtors.”

After that he said some other stuff and left. The next few days were sad and fruitless as well.

We realized that Conrad was never going to come, which meant no resources, no support, or food. But we also realize that we don’t have to split what we earn with him either. The people who lent him money might be a problem but they’re not here yet. We have a couple weeks until anyone shows up to liquidate our plot. And what they don’t find, they can’t take now can they?

Greed and Gunpowder Christina Ye

We awake at sunrise, tired but much better compared to the previous day. We were somewhat rested, and it lifted the entire mood of the camp. Now, we had all gathered in Dawson’s social house, just a minute’s walk from the hospital. Everyone had their belongings gathered, since we weren’t going to spend any more time healing. Not everybody’s wounds were completely fixed and patched, but it was as much time we could waste. We needed to get moving, and everyone knew it.

At the social house, we revised some simple instructions that Conrad had given us before we left, and cleared up any questions. We stayed a little while and talked everything out, which gave me a chance to study a bit of dawson. We were currently in town, which is mainly just a couple of shops and houses. It’s not too big, but served as a pretty good shelter. The social house is quite big, and is composed of a bar, some couches and a bunch of tables. It’s not really arranged in any specific order, and people come and go as they please. Currently, it’s not too busy, and our group is accompanied by about six other lone prospectors.

Barnabus is here as well, and gives us a little bit of a pep talk. He seemed really excited about the gold, but was also aware of potential dangers. He gave us good luck and left.

Some of us wanted to adventure in the town, so we all went together and took a look around.

Personally, I didn’t feel the need to explore, so I just walked with the rest of them. I took the time to reflect on our journey so far, and I admit it was much more difficult than I thought it would be. I knew if Bree was here she wouldn’t have expected it either, but I just have to deal with the fate I got. So far, life at Dawson seemed much easier than the climb up Chilkoot and our adventures in the forest, so I prayed it would stay that way.

We hadn’t heard from Conrad since our departure, except for the occasional delivery of food, but it didn’t worry me. I know he’s up to no good, and it’s best to leave him alone. I stare at the grey clouds, trying to imagine what shapes they looked like.

For the first time, I came to wonder if I’d changed since Chilkoot. I realised I would have never done this- looking up at the clouds if I’d still been in Severn. Not because there wasn’t time, but because I would have convinced myself it’s a child’s game. By the time I was seven, I knew I wasn’t a child anymore. I had seen too much destruction and felt too much pain to be a girl with an open and innocent heart. It became a game of secrets and betrayal, of shadows and blood.

I don’t deny I still feel a strange pull from the thought of gold, but my experiences have humbled me. Looking at the empty souls marching down Chilkoot was enough to convince myself it wasn’t worth it. I still wonder if I’ll find gold, and if so how much? Our time spent in the forest travelling kept my mind off these things, and now I’m not so sure what to expect.

Will the touch of gold stir the ugly greed at the back of my brain? Will I run away from the few “friends” I’ve made just for the possibility of becoming rich?

It makes me sick to my stomach, but also makes me notice I’m becoming soft. For a moment, I’m ashamed and disappointed. A soft heart makes you more vulnerable, and that’s something I should never be. I sigh, and for a moment I reflect my old self. Broken and alone, but strong. For over ten years, that was enough. I start to wonder, was it really?

Before I got too knotted up in my own affairs, Bryant emerges from a building holding an empty jar. Why do we need a jar? Honestly, at this point everything’s unpredictable. He himself looks sad as well, and his head is cast downwards as he rejoins with us. Bryant

explains he was going to get us candy, but the lady used some cold wordplay and tricked him. I was about to laugh, but held it back and we started to exit the town to head to our plot.

Our group passed by a couple of more interesting stores, but a look at the price tags quickly changed our interests. Things here were pretty expensive, and we didn’t manage to pick up much. As we approach the edge of Dawson, we slide past a row of four coffins. They are all standing upright, and not yet closed. Two men dig knee-height holes in the dirt, and stay silent. In the coffins, we couldn’t help but gasp as we saw what was inside. The two men who had died in the forest yesterday lied in the first two coffins. The woman chanting about her little sister lay in the third, and in the last laid a mountie.

It was all our doing, and far too obvious. To make matters worse, a sign was listed next to the coffins. “WANTED: LEADER OF THE CLIFTON GANG. PHOTO ATTACHED BELOW,” It was an old man, and the sign clearly looked very old. Right next to it, two new signs were pasted with our beloved culprits running for a prize of 200 dollars. Jerry and Curtis were illustrated in the signs, and they looked somewhat similar but not completely the same. Colena was bold enough to interact with the gravediggers, but after a few sentences Emily dragged her away, embarrassed. As we finally exited Dawson, an entry sign marked the official exit of the city.

For the next two and a half hours, we made our journey to our mining plot. Conrad had purchased #1099, and was easy enough to distinguish from the rest. We were quite far away from any other miners, and it was a space entirely for us. The first half an hour was spent pitching tents and getting everything in order. The terrain was fairly rough, but we were all glad to have a stable shelter instead of constantly travelling. I positioned my tent next to a tree, and set all my belongings outside.

By the time everyone was settled in, we still hadn’t realized the condition of our plot.

Besides a small river running through the middle (which was definitely helpful), there was going to be a lot of digging to maintain a flat area. Bumps and tree roots were everywhere, and maintenance wasn’t going to be easy.

Nobody really knew where to start, and the tasks were plentiful but boring. We had pans, pickaxes, and not much else to begin the gold pursuit.

By day three, we had finally got a hang of things and had a steady plan to find gold. Not all of us were mining or panning, but it was all for the benefit of our camp. Rachael decided to engage in bomb-making, getting a good chunk of work done and staying decently focused.

She had picked up a ton of materials from town, and was quite enjoying it. The rest of us were just doing plain old labour, sticking to Conrad’s contract. We had to do a week of work and then we were rewarded with a night at the social house. It isn’t exactly fair compensation, but I guess we just have to deal with it. At the end of week one, we had amassed a total of four gold nuggets. It was enough to buy a house, according to the smarties in our group.

We were all cleaned up, and headed over to the social house after our first week. We planned to meet Barnabus there, and everyone was in a pretty good mood as we went in.

Everything went as usual. People were talking, laughing, and it was a pretty good remedy for a week of mining. Somehow, we got to the subject of gold, and Barnabus’ eyes seemed to inflate as soon as we mentioned it.

“C’mon! Let’s compare how much gold we got. I’ll go first,” he said, his eyes mischievously sparkling.

At the time, we thought it was suspicious, so we quickly declined the offer to his disappointment. However, he still wanted to show his own gold, and took it out from under his jacket.

He beamed, proudly, clearly still in awe of what he had discovered. The gold sparkled as he slowly removed the cover to show us. It was huge, the size of his hand, and would no doubt make him rich. “I’ll never have to work again,” he murmured, studying like the rest of us. It was no doubt the biggest piece of gold I’d ever seen, and definitely enough to make him rich. I won’t disagree with the fact that I was a little bit jealous, but I did my best to hold those bitter feelings down and continued to let the night go on.

Barnabus starting muttering some stuff about retirement, and then decided to buy us dinner. It was a pretty fun time, until he left and a girl, barely ten years old, entered the social house. She had a satchel strapped to her waist that was quite full, but didn’t look too heavy.

She seemed to scour the crowd, searching for something, and deciding that we were the thing she was looking for.

“Um, do you happen to be ‘Wagner and Assorted Children’”? No one said anything, but we gave her a look that said yes and let her continue on. She reached into her satchel and pulled out two things: a letter, and what seemed to be a script.

“They’re paying me 10 cents to read this, so you better listen,” she glowered, before starting to read off the paper. “I hereby inform you that your company has been dissolved.”

What? I knew there was something sketchy about Conrad, but what the hell happened? I look around and see everyone else echoing the same thoughts. As much suspicion had surrounded Conrad, no one suspected this.

Hesitantly, the girl continued, “And the assets thereof will be preserved, and liquidated, as a result of the untimely death of Conrad Michigan. All assets of the company will be transferred to cash immediately to cover his debts, including any and all items collected from his plots. I, uh, also have a letter here. Have a good day!” With that, she leaves and we are left with the letter at the head of the table.

The information came crashing down like an earthquake, and nobody really knew what was happening. Conrad, dead? We have to give away everything that we earned? We immediately snatched up the leader and began to read. It was dated two days earlier, and was clearly written in a rush.

Sorry, Hide the Gold. Meet me in Last Hope.

- CM Strangely enough, that was all it said. No warnings, no information, just a command. We conversed a little and concluded that it was probably written by Conrad before his death. We sat there, unsure, until another person walked through the door. He was wearing the same uniform as the man who brought us to the hospital. Mainly red, decorated with shining golden badges. It wasn’t the same man though- he looked less friendly, and walked with his chin up. As he entered, the whole house seemed to shush, and salute the man. It would make sense if he was a police chief, but is he somehow more important than the others?

“Sorry to interrupt, but I’m looking for Wagner and Assorted Children? Or WAAC, for Simplicity.” Of course, everyone seemed to be looking for us. The officer said our name like it was some childish foolery, and I’m not sure I blame him. In a flash, the crew closest to our letter from Conrad hid it safely, which was definitely a smart move. Nobody said anything, and we had a feeling this wasn’t going to go well if he found out it was us. A barista, who

looked so intimidated she could vomit, slowly directed her hand towards us, and blew our cover.

We were all nervous as he approached us, and he said curtly, “Kids, I got some bad news.

Your buddy Conrad was in a bit of a tight spot… and got shot in the back. I don’t have much respect for the Michigan dude, but I thought you should know.” He paused, glancing at our faces, and then continued to talk.

“He was fleeing our law enforcement officers just south of Chilkoot. He had borrowed a whole ton of money from criminals, and he wasn’t paying them back. It’s only fair for us to come wrap up this thing. All mining on 1099 and any plots owned by Wagner will be gone.

You have a couple weeks before we come and shut it down, and any more mining or use of the plot is a crime. My deepest condolences.” He awkwardly tipped his hat and headed for the exit, when suddenly Colena decided to threaten the cop. The officer becomes extremely angry, and booms, “DO NOT THREATEN ME. Do you see this badge? This one? DO NOT THREATEN ME.” Long story short, Colena ended up in prison and we had to get her the next morning.

Our mood was significantly lower than before, with all the new news and confusion.

However, the next day after we had fetched Colena, everybody noticed something.

There was no Conrad, which meant we didn’t have to pay him. The people who we owed money weren’t here yet either. So, really, we could just keep on mining. And because of the WAAC people we are, (Get it?) that’s exactly what we did.

Another week of mining was underway at plot 199. Pickaxes smashed into bare rock, the river trickled loudly, and it was a good type of chaos. Everybody had found something to do.

More people decided they wanted to make explosives, so I’d say we’re doing pretty good in that area. For the most part, we mined, and it was exhausting. Sweat trickled from my forehead down to my bare shoulders, and I was hot even in Yukon’s cold weather. At the end of the day, we always had grey faces and dirty hands. There was no way to shower, and the best we could do was use buckets to store the freezing river water. When one of us needed to bathe, they would take a pail of the water and hide behind some trees. The water is ice cold, and when it touches your bare skin, you feel like an ice cube.

We also all had basic chores. Refilling the pails after a shower, keeping our tents orderly, reporting with gold, and washing our clothes were part of our daily routine. The week went by fairly quickly, but our gold mining was not successful at all. We emerged with a single nugget, disappointed. We hoped the next week would give us better luck, and all us gold miners left it at that.

Like usual, we went back to the social house for an evening of relaxation. Strangely enough, Barnabus wasn’t there. He was so proud and excited last week, and it didn’t add up.

None of us had enough energy to check up on him anyways, though. The social club today was much calmer, and though more newcomers had come to the town, they already seemed hard at work.

The season had begun to hit its peak, so more and more prospectors were in town.

Companies that sold plots and materials were doing extremely well, and their prices were rising. At the Social Club, we overheard some people saying that Chilkoot had closed down because of how much snow there was. I shuddered at the thought of climbing Chilkoot again, even though I knew it would come at the end of the trip. The night came to an end and we all went back to our plot.

I guess we’re officially criminals now, but it’s for the better, right?

Inside my tent, I didn’t have many belongings except for essentials. It was mostly just piles of blankets, but it was peaceful compared to the rest of the camp. Outside, it was nearly dark. There was no sign of the sun, and the sky was a deep navy blue. I tucked myself into the thick mass of blankets and stared at the clouds as the night came to a close.

“All right people, let’s get moving!” If it wasn’t for the rest of them reminding me to wake up, I would probably spend all day sleeping. I felt particularly dirty today, but since we were going to mine anyways I told myself I would shower at night. I had been doing hard mining for the last two weeks, so I decided to give a shot at panning. It seemed much easier, but after a couple minutes my views had changed.

It was just exhausting from mining, except it wasn’t my arms that were sore. My back ached from hunching over the river, and my spine cracked every time I got up. The tiny tin pans we used were barely able to pick up a sizable amount of mud each time. Not to mention, searching for gold was a tedious and long process.

Every day and every night followed the same routine. Sometimes I was mining, sometimes I was panning, but either way it was difficult. We now had about two and a half bombs. Rachael’s was looking extremely good, but Jerry’s poor attempt at a molotov was sketchy. After a couple weeks, the camp was finally looking in order and clean, mostly thanks to Emily. She had spent two of our three weeks tidying everyone’s stuff, and now everyone was much more comfortable.

At the end of the third week, we had amassed a total of three gold nuggets. It still wasn’t the most successful, but much better than the previous week. We had a total of eight pieces now, and they were all around the same size. Not nearly as big as Barnabus’ gold, but I don’t think anyone minded.

That evening, our time at the social house was cut short. A group of two men, dressed in suits, were talking to the bartenders. We overheard their conversation and decided we should probably head back to our plot. We tried to piece together all their words and came up with something like this.

“Yeah, we made it! In fact, we’re here on some pretty important business,” the first one said, whispering towards the end. The same man leaned in and said, “Yeah, we’re looking for some men and women of violence,” I arched my eyebrows. What are they planning to do?

The bartenders had similar thoughts, and asked the men, who seemed to be law enforcement, what it was for. As usual, the first man answered. The other one was quite quiet, and barely said anything. “Well, up here it’s like the wild west of the north!” This man had no problem being confident, and was eager to answer questions. The quiet one, however, chimed in and said crisply, “We need men who can shoot.”

It was chilling, and definitely sounded like something that would happen back at Severn. I never participated in the hitman business, but I was approached enough times to know the details. They also mention that a bunch of plots were going to be liquidated, including Barnabus’. I felt sorry for him- he had really helped us and he shouldn’t have to leave so early.

He wasn’t at the social house again, but seeing that there was news of him probably meant he was still alive. All of us were worried about what the law officers were talking about, and left the house early to go check on 199.

As we make the walk back, a few of us seem to have noticed something in the distance.

They said it was gunshots, and once we got closer, the rest of us could hear it as well. You could hear the bullets firing over and over again, and it never stopped. People were shouting and screaming, fire was crackling, which were all signs of a crime scene.

Slowly, and carefully, we followed the sounds over to someone else’s plot. There was no one left, and it was a mess. Trees had fallen on the ground, embers sparked in the air, and the only thing still in good shape was a tent. We immediately rushed over to the tent, but stopped rigid at the front. Droplets of blood seeped out of the tent, running like a river.

Carefully, we peeled open the tent, and inside lay Barnabus. Dead, bathed in the most violent colour of rouge. The pool got bigger and bigger, until the only thing left was blood.

Hopi (Emily Wu) I wake up feeling refreshed, like nature gave me a drink of water through a waterfall. Stretching, I peeked one eye open to scan the room. The room was rather simple, a carpet, one window, a cushiony bed, and wooden floors. I got up and went downstairs, taking my bag and clothes with me to the social house.

The sun was waking up alongside me as I noticed Barnabus and Rachael chatting with the group and smiled. A wash of gratefulness waved over me, I hadn’t noticed that those two were with us again.

Good to know they’re with us...

People were shopping and trading with each other around me. [Bryant’s character] was trying to buy a jar of candy with a man missing some teeth. Despite my age, I couldn’t help but snort in amusement when the man gave him an empty jar.

“We can use that to store things.” I’m not sure if he heard me over everyone else.

Deciding to walk around the town, we hear some sort of banging, like someone was smashing rocks with rock. Heading over, we pass by some upright coffins and people in blacks, digging into the ground. Presumably some sort of ritual for those who left.

Reaching the source of the commotion, we encounter a person hammering “WANTED Dead or Alive” signs with drawings of [Jerry], [Curtis] and Clifton Rich. Bile rose up my throat as I peeked at the reward. It was $200. Two hundred dollars to possibly kill two teenagers. It was sickening.

Unnerved I ushered the group to hurry up, using the excuse of using time to work on the plot.

Unfortunately, [Colena], being the obnoxious yet curious person she was, decided to barrage the man with questions. I allowed her to ask a few questions to learn some more about what was happening. However, as the man started growling and glaring with thinly veiled threats, my muscles tightened and started twitching. If I didn’t stop her soon, he would attack her.

I slapped a hand over her mouth. She immediately started struggling against me and causing commotion.

People were stopping to watch us, and I was starting to feel dizzy. [Colena]’s screaming didn’t help with the headache. Quickly, I ushered everyone north and out of town, towards our assigned plot, 199.

The moment we were far enough, I let [Colena] go. She immediately began spewing out insults and such. I just kept walking forward, not minding the insults or her declaration of revenge.

Soon enough, she quieted down and chatted with others.

By the time we reached our plot, labelled 199 with a rough wooden sign, the sun was dancing with the clouds. We all split up to do different tasks for the week.

Many of them immediately decided to go to the river to mine some gold, or heal while others went to make some bombs. I wondered what sort of upbringing [Racheal] and [Jerry] had, what kind of teenager knows how to make bombs?

I ended up deciding to take one for the team and fortify our base. I wanted to help make the place as safe and comfortable as possible as I was an adult. In a group of teenagers and children. Needless to say, I was partially responsible for these silly teenagers and children.

Some of them laughed and said that it was useless, that the gods would give us food or immortality for nothing. I swallowed down the insults and tried to smile. Surely it was all in good fun, right? My eyes and ears caught the little jumping and little cheer from [Angela]. My heart throbbed. The knowledge someone was even slightly noting the importance of building helped make the pill easier to swallow.

Feeling a bit brave from her support, I asked if they could share some of the gold with me, I was met with immediate sarcasm and “definitely not”s. That stung, worse than a wasp sting.

Dejected, I watched as they went along their merry way in hopes of finding gold. I tried brushing off the rejection, convincing myself that it was because “they’re children” and “It’s the hormones getting to them”.

I went back to work, searching for wood for shelters and walls, gathering berries for food and medicines, plucking grass and twigs to build a resting place for those with injuries - the list went on. I was used to doing those things for my sidanelve, as I was relegated to building when they soon realized that I wasn’t a great fighter.

So it was no big deal to make the base but at that moment, I felt a bullet of longing and nostalgia. I missed Adriel and the others. I was never outright praised for my work. In fact, many would often mock me for being weak, but at least I had Adriel and Ahanu to support me.

With Adriel not-so-discreetly leaving an extra rabbit for me to eat and fighting against others when I was bad-mouthed. Or Ahanu, including me in his little games and snuggling with me despite being much smaller and already being ostracized for his incredibly small size for a baby.

I missed that. But I couldn’t dwell on my nostalgia and do nothing, I had to survive, and “pan” gold to help keep our tribe afloat. So, for the first week, I kept adding to the base. Threading strings and hanging pots and pans everywhere around the base. As well as barricading the perimeter with a wall and moveable door that opened from the inside.

At the end of the week, the day called ‘Sunday’, we went back to the social house.

To say it was eventful is an understatement.

The social house was filled with prospectors cackling and enjoying the food. The younger ones were bragging about their findings while the older ones stayed more quiet. I was enjoying the time to breathe while listening to the liveliness of the room when Barnabus skittered over and sat down at our table.

I blinked, baffled for a moment before smiling with a wave. He sure was excited, bouncing his knees underneath the table. I hadn’t expected Barnabus to come over, I had thought that Conrad would be the one to come. After all, he should’ve arrived by now.

I listen in on Rachael’s conversation with Barnabus.

“Did you find gold?” He smirked and answered confidently.

“I did indeed! How ‘bout we compare our gold?” She slowly shook her head. He raises an eyebrow before shrugging to reach into his coat.

“Alright, I’ll show mine first.” He grabs something wrapped in cloth and gently places the treasure on the table. We all shiver in anticipation at what it was. Barnabus unwraps it. I stop humming and stare at him in shock.

It’s a solid gold nugget, the material was enormous. The nugget stretched to the size of his palm. I distinctly hear him rambling about some stream and a cheerful “Dinner is on me today!”.

Blinking myself to the present, I ask in English.

“What’re you going to do with it?” Surprisingly he heard me. He leans back with a thoughtful hum.

“I’ll sell it like everyone of course. Then... Retire? Never work again for a day in my life.” We both shrug. It was a valid answer.

I went back to appreciating the company around me as we ate.

Later, after finishing the meal, everyone bids him good night. I was about to head back to sleep with the others when a young girl with a brown satchel ran towards us.

Waving a letter she skidded to a halt. She looks up at me, and fidgets with her satchel.

“Are you… part of Conrad Michigan’s company?” We all nodded. She took a deep breath before reading a letter.

What she read made my face’s color drain.

“Well, I’ve been paid to read this so you better listen up. Attention employers/partners and other associates, Your company has been dissolved. Your asset thereof as a result of the untimely death of Conrad Michigan. All of your assets; the tents, the rations, pickaxes, gold, will have to be liquidated to cover the expensive debt from his death.” No one dared to blink. Our hard work was going to go and crumble to nothing.

She tried to lighten the mood by smiling and placed the letter before walking away with a ‘have a good day!’.

I sat there in shock. My mind was reeling from the news, I stared down at the letter. Carefully, I picked up the letter and let the others read behind me.

“Sorry… hide the gold. Meet me… in Last Hope” It was addressed to us from Mr. Conrad, there was no date and the handwriting was messy. Much more messy than the usual fancy and extravagant handwriting from his cheques. I blinked and gulped down the incoming tears.

Mr. Conrad is… dead? My mind was malfunctioning as I struggled to imagine Conrad, the same Conrad who cared enough to learn to speak Cherokee and give me a chance of money, was dead and inter-connected with criminals. I-It was… an asinine and disturbing thought. Millions of questions were scattered with no sense of organization.

Everyone is quiet as sharp strides tap wood. We look up and note the gold on his shoulders as he demands to know if anyone has seen the associates of Conrad Michigan. The bartender points towards us. He nods and marches towards us, taking off his hat. I cautiously inch between the man and the others. What did the man want?

“Your employer got himself into a tight spot. I’m not sure of the exact details but he got shot in the back by law-enforcement while fleeing.” [Colena] tilts her head and wonders why Mr. Conrad was fleeing. He shrugs. I try to stay apathetic and professional as [Colena] asks why he was fleeing.

“Again, I don’t know the details. However, there is strong evidence that he engaged in criminal activity and borrowed their wealth. The criminals wanted their money back and were furious. It doesn’t aid him when he resisted law enforcement.” He sighs as he shakes his head. My appetite disappears.

“I believe it is only fair to give you poor fellas some time to cease minings of gold in block 199.

I’ll trust that you’ll do so unlike your employer. There shall be someone to come and collect the

plot. All resources from Conrad will be taken. Should you continue mining, there will be harsh consequences.” He nodded at us. Robotically, I nod.

“Deepest condolences.” He just about reaches the door when [Colena], bravely but idiotically, challenges him.

“We’re not paying for his debt. We don’t like him and we don’t want to.” Everyone nodded, murmuring in agreement with the proposition. The man and I stare wide-eyed at her. Even more questions started racing in my mind. Was I the only one who felt sadness in Mr. Conrad’s death? Did these children know he was a criminal? Why did they take the job in the first place?

I felt shame suffocating me at my - no the - groups lack of compassion. Peeking around, I saw their expressions. They were all not-so-secretly hiding their gleeful joy. A current of fear rode my back.

What in the world was I thinking? Joining this group?

The man sharply turns around, and quietly asks whether she can see his - She interrupts with a “what?”. He growls with a shout of “Do not interrupt me!”. He sighs before continuing to ask if she can see his epaulet. I try muting [Colena] with a gloved hand over her mouth but she slaps it away and quickly cuts him off with a “What’s an epaulet?”.

She’s hauled out of the house. The only echo being a holler from the man with rabid eyes.

“My authority will be respected in this town!” Once again, I'm left with trying to understand the world these… hooligans want. First they kept talking about wanting to die at night and then they do crazy things like this.

What the world… We’ll get her tomorrow morning. I sigh, partly from confusion and to try and deal with the distressing news. Why do the loud kids want to get into trouble with law enforcement?

I took a tepid sip from my cup of water. It didn’t taste refreshing or clean anymore.

I waited until everyone was fast asleep before cracking. I was in bed, though I had no recollection of walking to the plot. It seemed I still followed others, even if they aren’t family or friends. I bit my tongue to try and focus on physical pain instead of the emotional or mental side.

Why did Mr. Conrad - Michigan, I corrected myself - borrow money from criminals? Why couldn’t he pay back the amount of money he borrowed? What in the world was he thinking?

I tried to swallow back my bitterness at everyone and everything in the north. It didn’t work as well as it usually did. This was a far-cry from the happy experiences I had hoped for. A whimper scratched my dry throat.

I hate Michigan, I hate him so much! I hate the colder weather, I hate the apathy, I hate the lying, I hate the criminality. I hate it here. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!

I shoved my face onto the cushiony pillow that was not mine and screamed. Nothing came out, I couldn’t even scream or yell at night. An amused growl went through my mind.

How pitiful, little crybaby can’t even speak.

I punched the towel that was my pillow and tried to yell. However, I only felt the compression of my chest as the silence of the night resisted. Instead, I could only vent to myself in the cages of my mind.

I want to go home! I want to go back to the south! I want to stay with Ahanu and Adriel! I howled into the scratchy covers of the pillow.

I don’t want to stay here!

A ‘caw’ came from the window. It was a red-tailed hawk.

Sniffing the sadness away, I peeked out the flap. Trying to relish the taste of salty liquid pouring down my cheeks.

The once bright trees that I awed over now seemed shady, and intimidating. The threats of predators and coldness looming over the ground. The powerful moon, once providing light for my tribe’s navigation and safety, was gone. Hiding away from the petrifyingly bleak north.

I sighed, disappointment simmering in my blood. Adriel and Ahanu weren’t here. I didn’t want to be alone, but no one wanted to share the tent, all claiming to protect their gold.

What I once connected to snuggles with Ahanu and small gifts from Adriel was now a scenery fitting in similarity and contrast of my thoughts. I sat back down in my tent, zipping the entrance closed.

I went back to my blue sleeping bag and snuggled into the covers. All of my questions are rooted into one query.

Why is everyone around me so callous?

Suddenly feeling fatigued, I closed my eyes and let my body relax.

The next morning, we picked [Colena] up from prison. When I asked her why she decided that making the local law-enforcement an enemy was a good idea, she simply grinned and said that it was revenge for silencing her earlier. I simply sighed and questioned my sanity.

I was on the verge of just going with the idea that loud people from the city were just outright crazy. It was the only explanation I could come up with last night.

We headed to the plot. A gripping grief squeezed me. Plot 199, the place where Mr. Conrad was supposed to be, helping dig gold. Although I was surrounded by many children, none of them were close to my age, nor did any of them seem to care to ‘know’ me.

I blinked away the moisture in my eyes. I shouldn’t cry over someone I just met weeks ago.

There was no time. Besides, I thought with grim humour, I suppose now I don’t have to split money with him, and it’s going to be a while yet before the danger comes.

I shakily smiled, I was desperately trying to make today a better day. I didn’t want the shadows of yesterday to haunt my path forward. It was time to start working even harder.

We all decided on different jobs for the week, this time I decided to go hunting for some gold.

I looked around, everyone was spreading out on their own. My heart cried out to go and follow one of them, but I squeezed my eyes shut and determinedly stomped away.

No, I’m not setting myself for that rejection again. No one wants to share with me, so why in the world am I being so needy for companions? I wasn’t even going to go on this trip….

I soon reached a river and sat down, unsure on how to use the pan to find gold.

Mr. Michigan was supposed to teach me on the trek… Why did he have to end up being twisted into criminal activity?

I sighed as I glared at the sturdy, drumlike pan with holes and leather sack. I played with the pebbles for a few moments, dragging pebbles onto my hand only to watch them slip into the river.

That’s when an idea to find gold hit me. Perhaps I was supposed to use the pan to shift through the rocks for gold?

I grabbed the pan and scooped up some dirt. Then, I dipped the pan into the water. Being careful to not spill the sluggish pile, I brought it up. I poked around the mud, searching for the shiny material that I wanted. There were none.

It was disappointing, I sighed. Lowering my head and shoulders, I looked into the stream of water. My somber reflection stared back. I frowned, tightening my fists in frustration and stress.

Everything was building up inside of me and I didn’t know how to deal with it.

Then a memory of the many years I failed at hunting, only finally succeeding to catch a small fish when I made a net out of tree roots and wood at 8 years old. Images of the cold, soul-freezing journey; the burning pain of a gun; Barnabus; my tribe; Ahanu; Adriel; my family. I realized, I couldn’t give up, I had to continue trying, if not for learning how this process works, then for my tribe and myself. I needed to get gold for them, I had too much at stake. My eyes shined with newfound determination.

I wouldn’t give up. I already did so much to get here, I’m not going to stop because I didn’t get any gold on my first try. I have plenty of experiences with patience, this is just another activity that requires patience and practice.

I went back to shifting through the mud in hopes for gold. Each time, trying to learn how each step of the process worked and how the tools made the process easier, before repeating.

By the end of the day I didn’t find any gold nuggets and brought nothing back to camp. The same happened for the next 6 days. When I got back on the last day, it turned out that everyone’s efforts only amounted to one gold nugget.

Contrary to the majority’s groans of disappointment and woes, and snickers at the lack of gold from this week, I didn’t feel horrible. In fact, I felt warm and I was internally smiling. The setting sun looked more beautiful as it’s shining colors blended with the white fluffy clouds than it had in the past few weeks.

Though I felt like others believed that I was bringing nothing about gold to the camp, I knew that was false. I didn’t have physical gold, but I now had a week’s worth of investment in knowledge.

I learned from Barnabus and others who found gold’s saying that gold was best found in clean, deep streams with slow currents. I also quickly figured out that it was much easier to see the gold when the sun was reflecting off the surface, otherwise it would become disguised by the mud.

I knew how to improve my tools for the next time I pan gold.

For some reason, when we entered the social house, Barnabus wasn’t there. We asked around but no one seemed to know where he went. It added to the worry in the back of my mind but I figured that perhaps he felt tired or he forgot. I pushed the worry away and managed to still enjoy the night’s food. Crunchy and healthy vegetables, that I believe are delicious despite the disgusted looks from children.

I heard some prospectors talking about how Chilkoot’s Passage had been blocked from the snow. Thus, there were less people coming up. Whispers spoke clearly to me about the companies selling their plots and assets getting rich as others lose.

The night passed by with no large events and thankfully, no fighting.

For the third week, I worked on upgrading my pan and sack, [Angela] decided to continue looking for gold. Last week was to gain knowledge and to practice panning gold. Now that I knew more about the process, I wanted to improve my chances with my skill with creating.

For the pan, I decided to add rings of rubber on the inside of the bottom of the pan. In theory, the rings would catch onto the gold and ensure that it doesn’t spill out of the pan when trying to add water. I also chose to make an empty cone and a tight net in the pan that points to the middle so it’s easier to drain the water out and keep the gold in the middle.

As for the bag, I decided to add a layer of latticed grass inside to avoid having it soaked.

Sunday came and we went back to the social house.

It was more populated than last week; however, Barnabus still wasn’t there. An uncomfortable suspicion was creeping over me and I didn’t like it. Missing an event he organized once was alright, twice however was worrisome.

I listen to the conversations around me as I rest. The fruity and alcoholic scents swirling around the air like music.

Apparently, the pass had been cleared, which explained the amount of people. Some people found more gold, the ramblings of excited people my age, I passed through the topics as if I was reading Cherokee. I was listening to one conversation in particular, between two fancy men, when one lowered his voice.

“Men and women on violence. See, a whole slew of miners are delinquents, when it comes to paying their debt.” His words oozed with disgust and manipulation. I almost choked on my tea as my palms began to sweat. The other man spoke, blank indifference in his eyes and tone.

“We need men who can shoot.” The bartender walks over and smoothly hands them a few drinks.

“Who’s being liquidated?” They began listing some companies and people. My ears perked when Barnabus and some others we met were listed. My stomach flipped when they started talking about Wagner’s . It brought back the unwanted memories from the night Mr. Michigan took me from my tribe, bribing me with riches to provide for my family and friends.

We all leave the social house. We were not going to be pointed out by these gentlemen.

The night was cloudy, the trees casted shadows on the grass as we walked towards our plot.

Everyone was heading home when raised voices echoed faintly from the path. I quickly looked around, some of us didn’t or couldn’t hear the noise. There were at least two people shouting

and one answering in muffles. I silently break off from the others and crept towards the forest with those who hear.

BANG A single gunshot rang through the forest. Then I hear a stampede of scurrying feet and two sets of hoofbeats. The noise fades as they run past us, though I couldn’t see them in the dark night.

We hesitate, unsure whether the risk of checking the place was worth it before a haunting moan of pain echoes through. Nodding at one another, we decide to investigate.

Crashing through the trees, we stumble onto a plot. There was only one tent, a dead fire, and the area was small. It looked like a small mining operation.

We slink towards the tent and open the flap. The sight makes me want to fall down through the ground.

There’s blood absolutely everywhere. Barnabus is laying in a pool of his own blood as his eyes glistened with tears. He croaks before coughing and shuddering, blood spilling out of his mouth, he wheezes before flopping down. We know that there was nothing we could do to help the man, he was too far gone to try and save. Like a dead fish out of water, he stops moving. Not even the slightest heave of breath, there’s no words.

I look over at Rachael, about to offer some words of comfort, when I pause. Her face was as empty as my sack of gold. I had no idea how she felt about the person she worked hard to save dying tonight, but I wanted to help ease the burden in some way.

Looking away, I murmur a soft “I’m sorry for your loss. Donadagohvi, Barnabus.” I pick up a nearby flower and place it beside him. Rachael walks over to the bloody body and checks his blood-soaked coat. Then she searches the sleeves and a secret stash. The giant gold nugget that Barnabus was so proud of was gone. Stolen by the shooter.

I looked up at the sky, the moon was clouded. It seemed that it wanted us to make our own decisions on what to do. Letting out a deep exhale, I pat everyone’s backs as I remind them.

“It’s getting late… We can’t do anything for him right now, he’s off on his journey to the skies.”

They get up and walk away. I skitter from back to keep a guard up from any ambushes from behind. I can’t shoo away the feelings of guilt or disappointment, even when I’m in my tent.

Why another death? Why is it another adult? Why couldn’t I do anything about this? I’m an adult! I should be protecting others….

I couldn’t sleep well that night.

Fun Facts: Ahanu’s name means “he laughs”.

Also, you may have noticed that I have Hopi call my classmates by their name or “others”. This isn’t a mistake, it’s to push the fact that he doesn’t quite feel connected to them. I want to have him learn to speak up for himself (without fear of losing company). Idk how this will go (depends on the classes), but I hope that’s where he ends up.

You also may have noticed that after the night Hopi learns about Mr. Conrad’s criminal connections, he calls him Mr. Michigan. It’s on purpose, Hopi right now is trying to convince himself that he did bad things while also stop referring to him although he was a friend. (Conrad is Michigan’s first name. Hopi’s realizing that he wasn’t ever a friend and is trying to distance himself) Resources I used to learn about gold panning https://www.howitworksdaily.com/panning-for-gold-in-the-1800s/ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=70fTiO1V1Vo

Cherokee Vocabulary in this Chapter: Donadagohvi = Until we meet again Sidanelve = Family

Ronald Now we are leaving Dawson City to go to the Gold rush scene. We met another group who was traveling and we decided to team up with them. We all were walking along a very slippery and rocky path and saw some logs with posters on them. We read them and saw that they were wanted posters and the bounty was very high. It was around two hundred dollars. We walked and walked until we reached plot 199. This was also the plot the other group had booked.

I met someone who was just as money hungry as me and that day we talked about what to do.

We both didn’t want to mine, we just wanted to steal or murder someone for the gold. This was a dirty plan but we were desperate and this was just the perfect plan. It was genius! we didnt have to work for the gold and only had to murder or steal from someone.

We started walking the next day to find a campsite. We found a broken down campsite with many holes. This place was definitely searched and very broken down. It looked like it was damaged from a year ago and we both started searching. We cleared the area and found an X and knew it was probably treasure. We both ran back to the site and took out a shovel and started digging.

We were both very excited because we thought it was treasure. We hit something and we saw that it was a coffin. We lifted up the cap and I went to see. It was a dead body and looked like it had been there for a long time. We searched the coffin and Ada was too scared so I did it myself. I searched the pockets and nothing was there. There was a ring on his hand so I took it and ran to the camp. We were both excited. Then I started coughing and I didn’t know why.

We came back to the news that Barnabus had struck gold. This was big and he was so happy that he bought lunch for us. What a nice guy! Then a man walked in and told us that Conrad had died. The sheriff read his letter that said “Bring me the gold to the Last Hope”. This was very creepy but we knew since he was dead it would not be possible. He informed us that Conrad had been shot by law enforcement. He had owed some criminals money and didn't return it.

We were instructed to leave the campsite and sell all the things. Someone named Colena stood up and ended up getting arrested for a day. I healed from my cough. We heard that Barnabus had died and we scavenged him and found nothing. At week 4 we heard about a murder case...

Colena Shan

GREED AND GUNPOWDER We found gold for the first time, yay?

Okay…so basically, we had just reached Dawson City, got healed, spent a night there, and Bryant went to buy some stuff. At first, he wanted candy for 10 cents, but for some reason came back with an empty jar which he got for 25 cents. That was confusing…

Other people, like Rachael and Jerry, also bought random stuff (I think they got gunpowder and other stuff and planned to make guns and bombs for later). I didn’t buy anything, since I was short of money and there wasn’t anything in the town I wanted to buy.

A few days later, Barnabus came to us and informed us that he was going out of town and wouldn’t be back for a week, and that if we had any questions for him, we should ask him now.

None of us wanted to ask any questions, so Barnabus left.

A few hours later (or was it a few days?! My memory sucks) we left Dawson City too.

We passed by four coffins (or boxes with dead bodies inside them) on the way. Two black men were digging a grave in a nearby graveyard. Two men, who were dressed like bandits, and also had gunshot wounds on their chest, were lying in two of the coffins. The third coffin had a Mountie (or is it Mounty? I really don’t know) inside. The fourth coffin contained the woman who said her sister was in trouble. She had also been shot. Good. Served her right for wasting our time.

Justice in Dawson City seemed like this: No arrests, no trials, just some people shooting each other like idiotic fools who don’t have any type of sense.

Just outside of Dawson City, we heard hammers thudding. People were nailing some signs at the Entrance to Dawson City. I moved closer to the signs.

One of them said, “Welcome to Dawson City”, and below it, a smaller sign said: BEWARE THE BLOOD. There was a WANTED poster too. A grim-faced guy named Cliffton Ridge AKA Lindsay Shewster, Leader of the Cliffton Gang. Next to his WANTED poster, there was another WANTED poster, which didn’t have names, but had the words: WANTED IN CONNECTION TO THE SHOOTING OF TWO MOUNTIES. I didn’t even have to look at the pictures to know who it would show: Curtis and Jerry. Instead of pictures, there were sketches which looked a lot like Curtis and Jerry. The Mounties were probably good at remembering details, but Jerry’s head looked just wrong.

Oh god, I thought. As soon as Jerry and Curtis saw these signs, they pulled their hoods up.

“Let’s turn them in!” Rachael suggested cheerfully.

“Um, no, probably not a good idea,” I said.

Also on the poster said: REWARD: $200, DEAD OR ALIVE .

“What are you doing?” I asked the people nailing signs, hoping I didn’t sound too rude.

“Baking bread,” replied a guy nailing the sign.

“Well, that’s a rather weird type of bread, and you have an odd way of baking,” I observed.

“Around these parts, asking obvious questions can get you killed rather quickly,” growled the guy nailing the sign.

“Alright, I don’t care,” I said, and I meant it; these guys did not scare me at all. “What are you doing? Nailing up signs? What for?”

“Can you read?” the guy snapped.

“Er…yes…but it’s rather hard to read the sign with you guys in the way, and your hammer smashing is very distracting,” I said. That was partly a lie, since I could read the sign easily, but their hammers were really distracting.

They moved aside.

“Two individuals wanted for shooting two Mounties. We shot a bunch of their gangmates, but these two escaped—that is to say—er—we didn’t get those two,” said the guy.

“I just said I could read,” I muttered under my breath.

Emily started dragging me away. “I’m dragging you away!” said Emily in a happy voice.

(Emily, if you’re reading this, why the hell did you drag me away and brag about it?

“Let go of me, you idiot!” I yelled, starting to make a scene. I tried to punch her, but I missed (damn it).

That was eventually sorted out, with me muttering ten thousand (almost literally) curses at Emily.

And so we continued.

*** 2½ hours later, we came across this painted sign that had a big “199” on it. We’d reached Plot 199, which was the plot Conrad Michigan had wanted us to stay at (something like that).

We set up our camp, pitching tents and stuff.

For the first week we stayed at the plot, Rachael made a very good bomb. Was she planning to murder us or something?

“I’m going to run!” Bryant declared when he found out Rachael had just made a perfect bomb.

“You’re a coward,” I told him.

“Well, cowards live longer!” Bryant retorted.

“My life is boring, and I want it over with,” I shrugged. “But do whatever you want.”

In the end, Bryant decided not to be a stupid coward and so he did not run away.

I explored the plot and found a river nearby. Maybe us gold-hunters could pan for gold there.

Some of us could dig the ground for gold with pickaxes too, I guess.

For the first week, Christina, Angela, Chelsea, Bryant, Curtis, Cynthia and I decided to find gold, and we didn’t do bad. We found 4 nuggets of gold in total for that week. Not a bad start.

Rachael made a bomb that week, Jerry made a bad molotov that worked but was a bit dangerous since it wasn’t perfect, and Emily decided that the camp was not “suitable” enough for humans to live there and started making it better (somehow).

Ada and Ronald declared themselves psychopaths and went to the forest to look for people to kill. I don’t think they killed anyone, but Ronald returned one day with a golden ring he’d taken

from a dead person (bruh, now The Dead is plotting revenge on him for not letting one of them Rest in Peace), and he was coughing a lot because he spent way too much time beside a dead person.

Finally, Jocelyn decided to heal her wounds and not help with anything.

It was a surprisingly hot day.

The gold Christina, Angela, Chelsea, Bryant, Curtis, Cynthia and I found for the first week was enough to afford us rooms at the Social House (I don’t know why it’s called the Social House, people who are there don’t socialize much) back at Dawson City.

We talked to each other, eating snacks. I kept silent and mostly listened, and I noticed something: most prospectors talked about gold, but the older ones didn’t. They just sat there quietly, ate and played cards.

“Man! I got 2 nuggets, and I’m gonna buy a house! This is the best decision we've ever made!” said a young prospector near our table.

“Look how much gold I got!” bragged another prospector.

Ignoring my companions and everyone else in the Social House, I started thinking. Why hadn’t Conrad arrived yet, like he said? It had been some time since we last saw him.

After about another hour of chatter, Barnabus appeared at the front door.

When Barnabus saw Rachael, he smiled, then he walked over and sat down at our table without invitation. I couldn’t care less though, since this guy was more friend than foe.

“Aaah……I hope you guys had a successful first week in Yukon? Ah…I forgot how much I missed it,” Barnabus said. “I certainly had a good week.”

“Did you find gold, by any chance?” I asked curiously.

“I did find gold, as a matter of fact,” Barnabus said. “Did you? Have you got anything to show me? Show me, and we can compare.”

“We’d rather not compare,” I said. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Barnabus or anything, it was just—well—I just didn’t feel good about comparing.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go first,” he said excitedly. He reached inside his coat and pulled out something wrapped in cloth.

Poomf! There was a loud thud as he set it down on the table. So it must’ve been something heavy…like gold. Wow, he had gotten a big chunk. We had just found small nuggets. He smiled.

Barnabus unwrapped the solid gold nugget which was as big as his fist. That would cost a lot—the chunk he got.

“Just sitting there,” he whispered. “Underneath some silt in the middle of my stream.”

“Good for you,” I muttered.

“I’ve just been looking at it for the last day and a half. Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said. He wrapped it up again.

“Cool.”

“Lunch is on me, today, everybody,” Barnabus declared.

“What are you gonna do with it? The gold—” somebody asked.

“Oh, just gonna go home and sell it, just like everybody else does,” Barnabus replied.

*** The day after Barnabus showed us his prized gold-thingy, we set out again to Plot 199.

Christina, Ada, Emily, Chelsea, Bryant, and I looked for gold again, but we had less luck; only one gold nugget this time.

Rachael decided to finish whatever Emily was doing with the camp, and Jerry made another thing and had a bit more luck with it than his molotov.

Jocelyn, Cynthia, and Angela healed their wounds and Ronald recovered from his cough.

Curtis…well, I don’t remember him doing anything that week.

We return once more to the Social House. Barnabus wasn’t there like last time, but it didn’t concern us.

A girl about ten years old arrived, and she had a satchel (brown, my friends told me, but I wasn’t sure since I’m colorblind) around her shoulders, with a bunch of letters. Was she a mailgirl or something?

The mailgirl looked around the room, saw us, and she walked towards us.

“Um, hi,” she said. “Are you part of the company Wagner and Assorted Children?”

“Er…yeah, that’s us,” I said, a little suspiciously.

“Well, you’ve got mail. Hm, and also, I was paid to read this aloud to you,” said the girl.

Seriously? I can read. “ ‘Attention employees/partners of Wagner and Assorted Children.

“Your company has been dissolved. Your asset thereof is the result of the death of Conrad Michigan. Liquidate in order to cover his expensive death and debt. “‘Everything you find at Plot 199 must be sold, as well as your tents, rations, and land’. Oh well…have a good day—” the girl made to leave with the letter when she paused. “Oh—well I guess it’s yours now—” she dropped the letter on the table along with another letter “—goodbye.”

The mailgirl left.

We ripped open the second letter. Somebody had written it rather quickly.

Sorry….hide the gold. Meet me in Last Hope --Conrad Even though there was no date, we figured that this letter was written before Conrad got killed.

Hmm…Conrad dead…but what about the “debts”? Did he owe anything to anyone? And how much? This could be real trouble…

A Mountie (or Mounty, I still don’t know) came in. He was wearing his uniform and looked really dumb (sorry person). As soon as he entered, all the chattering stopped.

“Sorry guys, just looking for the associates of Conrad Michigan. Are they here?” said the guy.

We tried to keep a low profile, but the receptionist pointed at us.

Daaaaaaaaaamn it.

“Thank you, Martha,” said the guy. He walked over to us.

“Well, hello,” said the guy.

Nobody said anything.

The Mountie went on to explain about how Conrad borrowed money from some criminals and didn’t pay them back, and the criminals wanted their money back.

I asked for some details, but the Mountie just shrugged and said he wasn’t there when Conrad was charged so he didn’t know. He also said the Mounties shot Conrad for some reason, perhaps Conrad was running away or something. The Mountie also added that Conrad didn’t follow law enforcement.

“Anything you have taken from Plot 199 will be handed over to the people who will go there a few weeks later,” said the Mountie. “And you cannot mine for gold anymore in that plot. If you bring anything you have gotten from Plot 199 home, that will be against the law. I’ll check up, but do you have any questions for me?”

“Can you leave us alone?” I snapped.

“Yeah, I’ll be going now,” said the Mountie.

“No, like never bother us again,” I snarled.

He started to say something I didn’t hear.

“What did you say?” I asked.

“Do not interrupt me, see this jacket?” the Mountie said.

“Um…sure,” I said.

“See this epaulet?”

I had no idea what the hell an epaulet was (lol, I’m dumb, I know) so I said, “What’s an epaulet?”

He dragged me out of the Social House. He looked a little crazy.

Totally ignoring the fact that I was getting dragged by a policeman much better than me at fighting, I asked calmly, “Are you crazy?”

“MY AUTHORITY WILL BE RESPECTED IN THIS TOWN!” the Mountie screamed.

“Nah, I don’t think I’ll respect you,” I said. He pushed me out, and led me all the way to jail.

I was super good at wasting time though, and before I knew it, my companions had come to collect me from jail the following day.

We came back to Plot 199. This week, Jerry healed, and Emily made weapons in case we had to fight. Curtis did nothing again.

Everyone else looked for gold. Rachael had at first wanted to make bombs with detonators and stuff but eventually she decided to hunt for gold. We got 3 gold nuggets this time, bringing us to a total of 8 nuggets!

We returned back to the Social House once more to hear two people arguing. Lawyers? I have no idea.

“Oh my lord, the pass was something else, absolutely gorgeous to be here. We’re here on business,” said one of them. Lowering his voice (either our group had amazing hearing or this guy was VERY BAD at lowering his voice—probably the latter, we could still hear him). “Men and women of violence. We need men who can shoot.” He added something I didn’t hear.

“Who’s being liquidated?” asked the bartender.

The lawyers said Barnabus and some other people, and also added, “Wagner’s…Wagner’s and Assorted Sons? Wagner’s and Daughters? No…wait…Wagner’s and Assorted Children? Yes, them.”

Us! We left the Social House and we heard three voices. Two were yelling, the third was talking in a muffled voice. We heard a gunshot.

We decided to check it out.

I did not like what I saw.

Barnabus, lying down on the ground, very clearly, dead.

A bullet wound was on his chest.

What on Earth? Who would want to kill Barnabus?

Then I heard Mounties approaching.

Cynthia L After five days of painfully climbing the mountain through harsh weather, we finally got to the top of the mountain. “Look! There’s Dawson city!” My mum shouted as she pointed towards the cluster of buildings settled on the Yukon River. We went towards it, and as we got closer, we saw a sign. It said: Welcome to Dawson city! Everyone screamed excitedly and ran to the shops. We bought some food, new supplies, rested for a bit, and immediately went to Bonanza Creek and started panning. In the following days, we panned until our hands were sore, and sweat ran from our backs like running water.

No one has found gold just yet, and I decided to stop panning for a while and wandered around for a bit. Then I saw Barnabus waving at me. I went over to him, and he whisper-shouted, “I found gold!”

“Wow! That’s amazing!” I said.

“Want one? I can spare a nugget.”

“What? No! You keep it,” I said in shock.

He winked and said, “Might be useful someday.”

Then he slipped a shiny gold nugget into my hand. He went back to mining, and I stared at the gold nugget. It felt cool and heavy. I put the nugget in my pocket and went back to Dawson City.

I strolled through the streets and looked in some of the shops. One of them even had a bone!

Why were fake bones displayed in shops now? At least I thought it was fake…It looked pretty realistic.

On the way back, I saw Mike standing in an alley with two men. I quickly jumped behind the corner to avoid being seen.

“Conrad, you have not paid yet.” The voice was deep and shallow.

“Yes, yes, I said I would pay later! Just be patient.” It sounded like Mike.

“We have waited. But you have borrowed a rather large amount, Yes?” This time, it sounded quite raspy and hollow.

“SPEAK!” “Y-yes” Mike answered.

“We cannot wait anymore. If you fail to give us back the money… You know what will happen.”

“I promise I will give the money back!”

“Very well. We will give you one more day to get the money, and to keep that promise.”

I heard footsteps. The men were rounding the corner! I dove behind the trash can just as the men came out. Phew, that was a close one. I slowly went back to Bonanza Creek while thinking about what I just heard. But the biggest question was, what would happen if Mike didn’t return the money he borrowed?

I reached into my pocket and felt a surge of relief when I found that the nugget was still there. I wouldn’t want to lose it. I got back, and hey, everyone was so busy with all that work, no one even noticed that I was gone for a while!

Rachael Monday, October 12, 1896 Hello again, It’s impossible to sleep here. It’s pretty noisy outside to be honest, so I tossed and turned all night just waiting for the night to be over. The next morning, Barnabus said something to us and left town. Everything in Dawson City was getting ever more expensive, but we bought stuff anyway. Bryant didn’t know how to explain that he wanted a jar of candy and instead got a jar for $2.50, which is quite expensive. He also got a bottle of ketchup, and Jerry bought some things for the molotov cocktail (idiot didn’t know it didn’t exist - it was invented 42 years after this date lol). Emily bought some shovels, and I bought bomb materials and some matchsticks. Then, we left town.

Shortly after we left town, I saw, and I’m pretty sure everyone else did too, four coffins. All of the bodies had gunshot wounds in fatal places, with two of them having been shot in the chest. One of them was a woman, and I assumed this was the woman that had deceived the rest of the group and led them into the trees. They had been executed, probably, and there were two men wearing black digging a hole. I noted that there was not an arrest, nor a trial - it just seemed like they just got shot for being gangsters. You don’t even know if they’re guilty or not, idiots.

Idiots.

I heard the sound of hammering, and I’m pretty sure, unless they’re deaf, which I respect, everyone heard it as well. As we went further down the path, a large sign saying “Welcome to Dawson City” came into view. Two people were hammering Wanted signs on it. The first one said: Beware the below: Clifton - Also known as Lindsay Shewster leader of the Clifton Gang. There was a picture of an individual, and I saw that he was not one of the people in the coffins. There were two pictures next to it, also Wanted signs. They were sketches of Curtis and Jerry (I’m not surprised, they’re so reckless that they’re going to get themselves shot one day), or at least were meant to be.

They both did not look like Curtis and Jerry at all. Jerry’s face was larger than it should be, his hairline was too high, looking like if it shifted back any further, it was going to be halfway between the edge of his forehead and the back of his head, and his nose was bloated, the nostrils flared and at an incorrect angle, the bridge of the nose too sharp. Curtis’ was a bit better, though not by much. He leaned on his rifle that had a bayonet attached in the sketch, grinning hysterically (that’s not what he usually does though), and even the bayonet, probably the easiest part to draw, was wrong. It was way too thick, and there was no hint of light shining down on the blade. His iris was too big (the coloured part of your eye), and his pupil looked like it was going to explode at any second. His nose was slightly better than Jerry’s, actually looking like his nose, but his mouth was a tiny bit too wide. Wow these idiots must be bad at

sketching, I thought. It said “WANTED”, of course, and underneath it, it said their respective names,“Wanted in connection to the shooting of two mounties” and “$200 Reward: Dead or Alive.

Colena went up to them and said: “What are you doing?”

“Baking bread,” one of the people nailing the posters replied.

“That’s some odd bread,” Colena retorted. Emily looked anxious and tugged on her shoulder.

The person stopped his work for a moment. “You’ll get yourself shot if you question things like that,” he said.

And then he went back to his work. Helpful 100.

It took us what seemed like a few hours (what, I don’t have a watch) to reach the river, which flowed fast and smoothly. The water was cold and shallow, and pretty clear, as I could see the multicoloured shapes of tiny pellets and rocks at the bottom, a mixture of gray, red, black, peach, yellow, beige, and [insert other colours of rocks].

Some people set to panning gold - that is, Colena, Christina, Angela, Chelsea, Curtis, Bryant, and Cynthia. I have no idea who found gold and who didn’t - we pooled together 4 pieces of gold this week. They were tiny, but enough for one to buy a house, perhaps.

Tuesday, October 13, 1896 to Sunday, October 18, 1896 Jerry built his molotov-cocktail-that-wasn’t-even-invented (you’re 42 years early, Jerry), and of course, it was of the greatest quality (maybe not - it was the opposite lol), and chose to blow up in his backpack. Luckily he still had something to shoot with and get into even more trouble!

I built a couple of bombs - it was more like a glass bottle filled with gunpowder with a fuse sticking out (I have matchsticks by the way) - which took me a week. While we set up camp, everyone else except Emily, Ada, Ronald, and Jerry (whom, as I said before, built his molotov-that-wasn’t-even-invented). Ada and Ronald went exploring, and Ronald came back with a shimmering gold ring and both came back with a suspicious odour of a dead body. Ronald was coughing, probably due to something or maybe he had asthma. Emily set up camp and built fortifications. She also hung a whole lot of pots and pans on a string to warn of intruders. I had a fun time testing my bombs on something - that something was a bear (and it was in front of Curtis, who liked bears). I lit the fuse of one of them, waited a bit, and threw it at the bear. I waited a split second too short. The bear was startled and started to charge at me, and then the glass exploded, and I had to duck to avoid being hit by one of them. Angela, who was panning for gold nearby, put her pan over her head to avoid the shards, and Curtis got hit by a shard, but he didn’t seem to care because he was too angry that I just exploded a bear, as if that was the most illegal thing in the world. He later shot one of my biscuit tins in my backpack, which got crumbs into my bombs so that those who were blown up by them got a nice snack before they died.

I stole a couple of Jerry’s molotov cocktails-that-weren’t-even-invented and placed them around, and Emily found them and defused them. She didn’t find one that I had hidden near the forest, and I watched as a squirrel

accidentally triggered it, sending up a burst of flame. It died in the fire. RIP. We made a grave for it, which looked somewhat like this:

It apparently was important enough to have a funeral, and Cynthia, who was apparently a good singer, sang “The Lord is My Shepherd” and “Abide with Me”, which I maintained a disgusted face at as I was part Tagish.

On Saturday, we (more like only Bryant) managed to catch a salmon coming upstream, and we managed to eat it, with Curtis refusing to eat it because it was hairless. Curtis also almost shot Jocelyn, taking her for a deer, and lodging a bullet into her gold pan. Jerry’s explosive exploded in his backpack, and made a whole new mess that we had to clean up.

On Sunday we went back to Dawson City, which, in my mind, I didn’t understand because I’m not Catholic. I reluctantly went with them, however, and we got there by midday, entering the Social House for lunch. We restored our supplies, with Bryant buying even more ketchup (his supplies were apparently dwindling although there was still a quarter of the jar left), Emily buying shovels, Jerry buying things used to make IEDs (Improvised Explosive Devices), and I bought gunpowder (yes even more) and a couple of fuses.

Barnabus came in that evening and sat down with a smile at me. I mumbled something to myself about hating favouritism, then cleared the thought from my head. He sat down and offered to compare the amount of gold we found. Colena declined on behalf of the group, though I’m pretty sure from the looks on the other’s faces that they were going to respond and Colena just got there first.

“Show me, we’ll compare,” Barnabus pressed. Colena declined (on behalf of the group), although a couple of people looked baffled.

“Okay, I’ll go first.” This time, he didn’t reach for his stash of several gold nuggets hidden down his sleeve instead, he reached into his bag, and pulled out something wrapped in the cloth. He set it down, and it made a distinctive thud sound, implying that it was something heavy. I guessed that it was gold. Barnabus unwrapped it. I stared in shock. It was the size of a fist, a solid gold piece, not a couple of separate nuggets. It had a bump texture, and its gleam was almost blinding underneath the light. The gold colour was anything but dull, and I wondered where he got such a thing.

“I’ve been just looking at it for the last day and a half,” he said dreamily, “it’s so beautiful.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Emily asked.

“Sell it, like most people do. and then retire. I won’t have to work ever again!” Barnabus said happily. He invited us for dinner, which I found disturbing since he had just sat down at the table we were sitting at. Then, he bid us good night, and headed off into the darkness, which swallowed him hungrily.

Monday, October 19, 1896 to Sunday, October 25, 1896 Six of us searched for gold, yet only one of us procured a tiny gold nugget. Still, it was something, although some people just spent the week doing nothing. Curtis, for example, only seemed to be shooting deer and skunks and birds, and Jerry finally made his IED which could actually not go off by itself and explode in his backpack. I dug a circle around the camp, and buried gunpowder with a fuse attached to a particular spot (I also stole Bryant’s electric thing for it). It was just in case anything happened, and it would go off in a brilliant wall of flame once I detonated it (I tested a bit - I saved a small pile of gunpowder and retreated into the forest to test it - I accidently set a patch of grass on fire). I found that I had more gunpowder, so I took some tiny glass bottles with a smaller length of rope that I could set on fire and made a stash of bombs and grenades. Emily just sighed when I told her that I did it - I also hid the fuse so that no one would know where it was (I actually just buried it in the most conspicuous spot ever).

That Sunday, we returned to Dawson City again, and this time Barnabus was not there. We did, however, get a telegram. And I knew it almost certainly carried bad news.

A young woman with a sash full of letters came into the Social House. She looked at a letter, spotted us, and came over. She handed us a telegram, which I have copied below: WESTERN UNION FIRST-CLASS TELEGRAM THE 23RD OF October, 1896 TO WAGNER AND ASSORTED CHILDREN INC Dear employees of Wagner and Assorted Children STOP Due to the untimely death of Mr Conrad Michigan of Wagner and Assorted Children, and to pay off his immense outstanding debt his creditors have ordered a total liquidation of his assets STOP This the plot he has assigned to you, namely Plot 199 STOP You shall have a few weeks to pack your belongings and leave any and all gold acquired in your expedition on Plot 199 STOP Failure to abide by this order shall be regarded as robbery and any and all violators shall be punished accordingly STOP Please accept our heartfelt our condolences FULL STOP Then she handed us another telegram, this time from Conrad:

WESTERN UNION FIRST-CLASS TELEGRAM THE 23RD OF October, 1896 TO WAGNER AND ASSOR CHIL its conrd srry STOP in troble STOP hide the gld STOP need hlp STOP meet at lst hpe FULL STOP

Strange. The fact that it’s misspelled was a problem - Colena also wondered aloud how he could send a telegram when he was dead. I knew the answer - he had done this telegram shortly before he died. Why would he say “hide the gold” though? What did he want to say to us? Why did he need help? It suddenly dawned on me. He had asked me for money. I had refused. I felt a sickening feeling as I realized I could have prevented his death. I stared at the telegram in shock. The young woman said: “Happy prospecting!” and walked out of the building, her sash still overflowing with letters.

The door opened, then slammed again as another person walked in. He wore a red coat, with gold epaulets on his shoulders and a number of decorations pinned on him. The whole building went quiet immediately. He said: “Sorry to disturb you folks, but I’m looking for people in Wagner and Associated Children.” None of us moved, and Colena muttered something about it being “Assorted Children” instead of “Associated Children”. A woman raised her hand and pointed at us. He walked over to us, sat down without invitation (which was considered quite rude but this guy is a narcissist so he’s exempt I guess). He hesitated, then said: “Your employer, Conrad Michigan, was shot in the back fleeing from law enforcement.” He paused. “He was engaged in criminal activity, borrowing money from criminal associations. He refused to cooperate with law enforcement when we caught him. Conrad was probably running away in a threatening manner (how the heck do you do that…) that made one of our officers draw his gun and shoot him (I thought violence was never the answer…). You are ordered to cease all mining on Plot #199, and all your money is to be given to law enforcement. Should you take anything from the plot or continue to mine it will be considered a crime.”

He turned to leave.

“We have nothing to do with it,” Colena said.

“You are new here? I-” He was interrupted by Colena. He started again, and was interrupted again. This went on for quite some time, with him trying to show off his decorations and Colena interrupting him. It ended like this: “You see these epaulettes? I-” He pointed to the gold plates on his shoulders.

“What are epaulettes?”

“You’re under arrest,” he said angrily, his face the shade of a ripe tomato, and pulled Colena out the door. I chuckled quietly to myself as we all got up, and left. We picked up Colena from the prison the next morning, and I imagined what her trial would have been like (if she had had one, that is).

Judge: You are charged with the misunderstanding of the word epaulettes, of which is owned by an idiot, also known as the Chief of Police. Case dismissed as this is a ridiculous charge.

Chief of Police: *proceeds to look angry AF* As we returned to the camp, I reflected on what we could do about our orders. I realized they just said the money and to stop mining, not the gold. We didn’t have to split anything, and if we hid our money, what they couldn't find they couldn’t take. It was as simple as that.

Monday, October 26, 1896 to Sunday, November 1, 1896 I didn’t really do anything that week except build up on my stockpile of bombs. A couple of us found gold, and Bryant had to give Cynthia his extra pan because she dropped hers in the river (it had no gold in it luckily). Much to Emily’s disapproval, I rebuilt my detonator button by replacing the fuse with a couple of wires attached to Bryant’s stolen electric torch (I’m not explaining how it works). I did wander around the camp looking for danger, and Jerry and Bryant shot a goose - which was eaten the next morning after Ronald roasted it over a fire. Bryant caught a few fish while fishing, and I searched for gold as well. In total that week, we procured 3 pieces of gold. Emily was still trying to convince me not to place explosives around the camp, but I didn’t listen and placed more landmines. I had quite a laugh when Colena jammed Bryant’s Winchester Model, and it took an hour for him to fix it. Nowadays, most of our food is caught by Bryant fishing, people on guard duty shooting ducks and geese, and random animals that just wander into our campsite.

We now had 46 explosives, with a vast majority of them (32, leaving 14 outstanding) being placed around the camp in a circle. The plans for the protective circle were reviewed and revised by Emily, Jocelyn, Bryant, and Angela, which I had scribbled hurriedly on a piece of paper. Emily had also built a fence around the camp, and the landmines were placed just outside of it, with a fuse leading to the detonator that was behind the fence.

We returned to the Social House that Sunday, and Barnabus, again, wasn’t there, probably looking for more gold. I hated gambling, so I sat out as Ronald, Jerry, Curtis, Ada, and Bryant gambled. Bryant also convinced Curtis not to eat a certain type of sandwich and told him to eat ham and cheese sandwiches, which personally I despise. I decided I wanted to return to Skagway after overhearing something (or maybe everyone was eavesdropping…). Two men in fine suits that would have cost me a fortune were sitting near us. They were chatting with the bartender, and I listened intently.

“What are you fellows doing here?”

“Foreclosing. A whole bunch of them owe us money.”

“Really? Who?”

“Uhhhh (he draws out a list): Klondike Gold, Wally’s Alchemy, Yukon Gold Enterprises, Smith & Johnson, Johnny & Brothers, (he snickers) The Randos, Goldspace, and Wagner and Associated Children (Emily clapped her hand onto Colena’s mouth and told her to be quiet). Especially those Wagner folks. They bought up, what, 15 or 16 plots of land here.”

The well-dressed men continued. Barnabus was included in the list. “Yeah. We’re foreclosing on all of them.

But some of them might not cooperate. And I hear some of them are even criminals. Two of them. Jermey and Curt (Jerry and Curtis suppress a laugh). Shot up two mounties. Wanted pretty badly by the police. So we gotta hire some violent people to help us foreclose on them - men and women who can shoot.”

I bought some guncotton that evening, which was more explosive than gunpowder. Then, we all exited the town, and headed towards the path to our plot.

As we traveled along the path, I heard a couple of people shouting. Two of them cut quite clearly into the night, sharply stating whatever they were saying. The third one was responding with a muffled voice, as if someone had put a gag over the person. The muffled voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it because it was muffled.

There was a single gunshot, a thunder of hoofbeats as whoever committed the murder ran off into the cloud-covered night with no lantern, and a flash as they passed us briskly. We all paused, unsure what to do. Then, we all had the same thought and headed towards the gunshot sound. There was a moan of pain. We reached a plot that was evidently not occupied by members of Wagner and Associated - sorry, Assorted - Children. The moan of pain seemed to come from one of the tents, and we lifted the flap, peering inside. A person lying on the ground gave a shuddering cough, and lay still.

I checked their pulse. They were not breathing, nor was their heart beating. I studied their face. His large golden nugget was gone, and so was his stockpile of gold nuggets, stolen by the murderers. With a shock, I realized who it was.

Barnabus was dead.

SESSION FOUR

Betrayal

CHAPTER 4: GUNS AND BETRAYAL The next morning, I was woken up by a loud clamor outside. As I rubbed my droopy eyes, I opened the door flap of my tent allowing the first rays of sunlight in. I squinted. The dreadful discovery from last night had haunted my dreams preventing me from getting any real rest.

I laid there thinking for half the night.

Anyways, I was not one bit happy about being woken up so early and by shouting no less.

Just as I was about to open my mouth to complain, someone elbowed me signalling for me to be quiet. Apparently, Colena and a few others were having a heated conversation on what to do next. What’s funny was that they weren’t even arguing about the fact that someone had just died last night but instead was shouting on and on about how to break Jerry and Curtis out of jail once they got their wanted money. I frowned and kept my mouth shut knowing that nothing would be able to stop their craziness. To be honest in my opinion, if all they wanted was the gold then they could've just gone searching for Barnabus’s gold and could potentially get more gold by finding his killer and turning him in. I sighed and decided to go and cook some breakfast for myself.

Just as I was about to enjoy my homemade breakfast, a round of riffles was fired in front of Rachel’s tent. Accordingly, some men found out about Jerry and Curtis’ crime and demanded that we hand them over to him. When we refused, they fired their guns and we fired ours resulting in many injuries (thank god I wasn’t there). In the end, 2 men ended up losing their life. Later we found out that they were hired to claim our plot of land and was probably hired by the 2 lawyers that we met in the social house yesterday. On the other hand apparently, Ada tackled another man and took him as a prisoner. But before she could ask him anything, Curtis decided to do a fancy move and killed him. Ayeyaiyai, what a bloody morning.

Just like that, another unsettling morning passed and no one else seemed to be affected.

Everyone returned to doing what they did before. I too, decided that it was best for me to go look for some gold and get my mind off of some things.

However no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop thinking about the murderer that was on the loose. By the following week, I could no longer sit around and do nothing so I decided to return Barnabus’s death site hoping to gather what little clues that were left.

Shockingly when I arrived, everything was still untouched. The stench from before had become unbearable. I had to tighten my scarf and cover my nose at the same time to stop

myself from vomiting. In the light of day, I noticed many things that I had not noticed the week before. First of all, there were 12 sets of footprints that indicated that at least 12 people were here. But as I looked closer, I realized that it was our own footprints and that it could easily be tracked. I breathed a sigh of relief and made a mental note to cover that up before I leave. Other than those 12 sets of footprints, I noticed 2 sets heavier footprints on the side. They were almost identical to the point where one might wonder whether or not it was created by a 4 legged creature. Another thing I noticed was that there were many shell casing left from the gunshots. They seem to have come from a particularly large gun. At least bigger than the pistols that me and my group mates carry around. As I peeked my head inside of the tent, Barnabus laid there untouched. All of sudden, something caught my eye. It was a piece of bright red fabric that Barnabus was tightly gripping even after his death. It was most likely from his penetrator. I decided to take it and headed back to camp.

The next morning, heavy rain poured everywhere causing the air to become abnormally misty. The rain was chilling to the touch so we decided that it was better to stay inside. Late that evening, the rainstorm had finally ceased. We all went outside to stretch. Fortunately, the rain washed some of the dirt revealing some shiny bits of pieces here and there. After a few weeks of searching for gold, we found a total of 18 pieces. That’s quite a bit I thought.

Night soon fell. Everything was quiet. The nearby trees swayed gently in the wind. The pale moon hung grimily in the sky half covered by the ever so gray clouds. Suddenly, a loud crash woke everyone up. It was Emily’s string of pots and pans to warn us if anything were to intrude. We got out with our pajamas on. Colena grabbed a lantern and walked towards the source of the sound. We followed suit. As our eyes adjusted, a man with a frightened look on his face looked back at us. He was tangled in pots and pans and seemed to be from a native tribe. I noticed that he was bleeding from his right shoulders.

“I’m just passing through. I mean no harm.” he said with his hands up.

“I’m being chased by someone. I don’t have time for this.” he pleaded.

“Who are you being chased by?” asked Colena. “Is it the Mounties?”

Dogs were barking in the distance and multiple sets of hoof beats closed in. The men’s frantic eyes answered for him.

“Quickly, hide in there!” we pointed to an empty tent at the back. The men scurried off.

In the distance, we could hear hounds barking and people shouting.

“HE MUST BE NEARBY. THE HOUNDS’ GOT HIS SCENT!” one men shouted They stopped just outside of our barricade.

“Sorry to disturb you so late at night, but we have reason to believe that a dangerous person is within your property. Please kindly remove your barricade so we can make sure of your safety.” the men at the front said.

“Why must we do so?” asked Emily.

“We are only doing so to make sure that you are all safe.” the men replied impatiently. “In the name of the law, we must bring the fugitive to justice!”

“Fine, will let you in only if you don’t touch our gold!” snapped Colena “WE DO NOT WANT YOUR GOLD AND YOU DO NOT DO TERMS WITH US!!! WE ARE THE LAW!!!!!!” another man shouted.

Behind us, Rachel pressed the button to activate her pre-buried bombs and took care of them all. I guess there was a use to them after all.

That night, the ground shook and echoed in pain while the sky was lit scarlet red. After tonight’s events, I thought back to the hoof beats I heard that night when Barnabus died, the 2 sets of identical footprints, the large amo, the untouched crime scene, the missing gold and the piece of bright red fabric that Barnabus had clenched tightly. It was then when it became clear to me who the real murderers were. Perhaps, there was never real justice in this town to begin with.

Bryant Z. Sunday, October 10th привет я думаю 1 Gold Ring, 4 Gold Nuggets and a pinch of silver found so far As soon as we wake up, Colena and Curtis start arguing. Colena wants to stay and shoot up anyone who comes over to foreclose the property. Curtis wants to ambush people. Emily shakes her head. I laugh.

Watching our conversation is a man, and Ada manages to sneak up to him. “Who are you?”. She asks.

The man jumps and says “How did you get here? No biggie. Let’s just settle this. We know that you, Wagner & Agglomerated Children (Emily tells Colena to shut up) have some...er...criminals you’re harbouring here Just hand them over to us and we help you against the forcelosers. If not...we can’t guarantee we’ll be the only ones who know your secret.” He then gestures to three burly men blocking the road. As his speech is immensely slow, I quietly load a rifle in a corner.

We glance over each other. Suddenly, I’m swept over by an immense contempt. Who is he to ask me to betray my group? I lunge for my rifle and shoot a man in the head. The second man shoots me, and I fall over. My vision blurs, but I see Jerry firing his revolver at the second man and taking him down, but Jerry is shot by the third. Colena fires his bow at the third man, misses and is shot by the third man. The third man’s revolver jams, and he vigorously attempts to unblock it. Ada’s partner in conversation gets away, saying “you guys are so violent!”. Ada runs over and tackles the third man, smacking his right hand with a large stick, making him drop the revolver. He gets the man in a bind and points the revolver at him.

Curtis, still with a mostly full magazine, hobbles over, points his rifle at the man as I think “no no no no no no”, and Emily does that thinking out loud. Curtis, ever ahead of his time, says the weirdest line I’ve heard.

“Reeses puffs, reeses puffs, eat em up, eat em up! Reeses puffs, reeses puffs, eat em up, eat em up!”.

The man stares blankly ahead, then looks confused, and laughs.

Curtis pulls the trigger, and the man falls to the ground, dead.

Stupid me.

I have no more time to ponder my mental shortcomings, as I fall into unconsciousness.

I woke up a few hours later. Rachael is busy setting up her landmines, and has successfully set up 10 of the 32 she’s planned.

Colena, Jerry, Curtis and I are resting, but I’ve recovered enough strength to help Rachael build her node board for the explosives.

No one really knows what that means, but Rachael brought a product at the social house named a “node board”, which was regarded as useless by the bartender. The node board basically allows you to plug in as many nodes of a wire as there are holes, and then they can all be powered by one power source, splitting the power the source gives into the reciprocal of the buttons the node board has. Rachael brought the largest one, with 32 nodes. She also acquired a massive electric torch battery, which was the only one that had enough power to power all 32 bombs per our math. So I spend the day tying grenade wires into the node board as Rachael digs tiny trenches with a spade to place them in.

Jerry took our food tins and is placing guncotton inside of them to create a small bomb.

Ronald and Ada go off to scout for food. They return with an entire deer, shot with Curtis’ and my rifle.

I still stand guard today during my shift, even though I’m kind of injured. Colena refused to make an exception, even when Jerry threatened to shoot her.

Monday, October 11 1 Gold Ring, 5 Gold Nuggets and a pinch of silver found so far Ronald is struck down by a respiratory illness. We manage to diagnose it as pneumonia because of his symptoms: stabbing feeling in his chest, low energy, no appetite, nausea and heavy lungs. Ronald is a strange case though. His symptoms have shown an exceptionally long time after his last exposure, which we pin down was with the dead body. Ronald is quarantined in a small shed and food is brought to him through a flap.

Someone, while shovelling dirt, sends a bright thing flying, and smoothly catches it.

I am incapitated but spend the whole day fishing. I catch 2 salmon.

Monday, October 12 1 Gold Ring, 5 Gold Nuggets and a pinch of silver found so far Ronald’s situation gets worse when he starts getting the chills. We decide to keep him outside for fresh air, beside a campfire.

I catch a rainbow trout, but it’s slightly hard to cook well. Colena overcooks it, and it’s usually soft, flaky taste is replaced by that of coal.

Ada finds some juicy winter cherries which Colena turns into jam. We spread it over bread for dinner.

Curtis fires at, and misses a deer. The bullet goes through a tree branch instead, which is where Ada finds more winter cherries.

Tuesday, October 13 1 Gold Ring, 5 Gold Nuggets and a pinch of silver found so far Ronald’s starting coughing out mucus last night.

It rained heavily last night, so I’m grateful Rachael built parapets to shield me from the rain. We should have an easier time finding gold, though. The rain probably washed off the dirt and is a boon to us.

Ada stumbles on a huge pile of winter cherries and presents them to Colena, who declares we have enough for a few days.

Rachael completes her landmine system. She also starts work on erecting barricades and digging proper trenches around the camp.

A spark from the campfire lights a twig on fire. The twig is close to one of Jerry’s bombs and blows it up. A piece of shrapnel pierces through my tent while I’m sleeping, but doesn’t do much else. The hole it made, however, small, is quite cold until I stuff a tiny twig into it.

No fish caught today because of the rian.

Wednesday, October 14 1 Gold Ring, 5 Gold Nuggets and a pinch of silver found so far The rain pounds most of the day, until it stops as the sun goes down. The river is swollen.

Ronald’s mucus coughing turns a decidedly unpleasant colour.

Rachael finishes the defenses on the west sector. She erects sharp barricades, a system of bells to warn us of intruders (Emily’s idea), digs trenches and makes sure there’s an electric wire running from the node set to the palisades, in case we want to set it on fire or something.

I struggle to catch a huge fish which I was unable to identify. The fish eventually wins and takes my rod with it as it swims away.

Thursday, October 15 1 Gold Ring, 6 Gold Nuggets and a pinch of silver found so far Someone pans for gold in the river and succeeds.

After an unusually cold night, the river freezes. It unfreezes by lunchtime.

I take to hunting instead of shooting. However, it’s cold enough today that no animal pokes its head out, except for a squirrel, which I fire at and miss.

Ronald takes a turn for the worse today when he starts coughing out blood, but recovers, and as of tonight, he is no longer coughing out mucus.

Friday, October 16 1 Gold Ring, 6 Gold Nuggets and a pinch of silver found so far Ronald nearly recovers today. He still feels a little tired, but is otherwise ok.

There was a massively cold spell last night, and the top of the river froze. We content ourselves with throwing rocks at it.

I don’t think I’ll fish again...There really aren’t any more. The river freezes over from time to time.

Rachael finishes the north fortifications the same as she did them in the west.

Saturday, October 17 1 Gold Ring, 7 Gold Nuggets and a pinch of silver found so far Ronald recovered today.

Yesterday night, the river froze. It suddenly became quite warm today, and the ice broke today. I was hit in the head by a small chunk of ice. Rachael had it worse.

A small group of us go into town to buy supplies. We get enough to last 2 more weeks, although we forget to buy more guns.

I replenish my ketchup stocks.

Colena tries to step on the river ice and quickly gets off when it starts to crack.

It snowed today, and we had a snowball fight in our camp. I was ambushed and spent the rest of the game defending our base, which was raided with all our snowballs stolen and me captured and thrown into “prison”, a small shed (not the one Ronald was in). I tried to escape from the makeshift goal. When that failed, I was tried for “treason”, found guilty, and sentenced to “snowball squad”.

Someone found a gold nugget under our snowball pile (?!).

Sunday, October 18 1 Gold Ring, 7 Gold Nuggets and a pinch of silver found so far It warmed today, but the snow hasn’t gone away yet. This makes it harder to dig for gold, and instead makes it much easier to build extra fortifications in the camp. We ganged up on Jerry, threw him in “jail”, and went on to win.

Ronald cooks again for us, and it’s never been better.

Ada discovers a tree which produces maple sap. We boiled it tonight.

Monday, October 19 1 Gold Ring, 9 Gold Nuggets and a pinch of silver found so far

The snow melted and Jerry is once again starting work on a large bomb. I see a flaw in his plans (the bomb is made of wood) but he presses ahead anyways.

I find a gold nugget, and so does Rachael.

Jerry tries to shoot a snowy owl, but Colena shakes his revolver and he misses.

While the owl is in flight, Curtis fires at the owl and also misses.

Emily and Chelsea look for medicines.

Ronald and Ada go off to pick the last remaining apples.

Tuesday, October 20 1 Gold Ring and 9 Gold Nuggets I am ditching my silver ore because of how incredibly heavy it is, and it’s unworthiness. I can sell it for only around 30 cents.

Emily finds a nice plant that can be crushed into paste, and would be great on wounds. She puts it in a box next to our fire.

Wednesday, October 21 1 Gold Ring and 9 Gold Nuggets Emily and Rachael have completed the east and south sides of our fortification.

Thursday, October 22 1 Gold Ring and 11 Gold Nuggets While out in the woods foraging for food with Ada, Ronald runs back and reports that Ada has been caught by a snare.

When asked why he didn’t cut her out, he replied that it was “too much work”. Ada comes out an hour later, bruised and angry with Ronald. She hits Ronald hard enough to get him a nosebleed.

Friday, October 23 1 Gold Ring and 9 Gold Nuggets Jerry finally shoots an owl, only to find that it is disappointingly small and has barely any edible meat. Rachael takes the feathers, finds gold paint, paints them gold, crowns herself empress and tells us to work. She assigns people as her honour guard, who then mutiny, overthrow her, and lock her in a shed for a day. She keeps yelling at us to “let Her Majesty out!” while we laugh. Eventually, Emily takes pity on her and lets her out.

Saturday, October 24 1 Gold Ring and 10 Gold Nuggets Jerry’s bomb explodes when he tests one of his two bombs. His fuse sparks heavily and it sends a flame at the bomb when Jerry is only halfway to his hiding point. Jerry is knocked to the ground by the blast and pelted with burning embers before being struck on the head with a charred hunk of wood slowly coming down on a huge arc. He also underestimated the blast force of the bomb, and a piece of wood ignites the other bomb. I am panning for gold nearby, and the bomb explosion almost knocks me into the river.

Someone digs in Jerry’s blast hole and comes up with a piece of gold Chelsea finds another bunch of the same medicinal plant that Emily found earlier this week.

Sunday, October 25 1 Gold Ring and 10 Gold Nuggets We’ve decided to take a collective break today and build up our forticiations. Rachael’s landmine trigger is tested at a smaller scale with 5 grenades. It causes a huge burst of flame, and our prospector neighbour comes over and asks if everything’s ok.

Monday, October 26 1 Gold Ring and 11 Gold Nuggets I found a piece of gold!

Little gun holes are carved into our defenses and a gate is built. With that, we finished our defenses.

The mechanism used to set fire to the gate is tested. Everyone except Rachael stands by the gate with a bucket of the frigid water from the lake. The firing mechanism goes a little out of control, and we replace a section of the wall. Christina gets a bucketful of cold water as the accidental courtesy of Emily.

Our tents are rearranged around the campfire. A little iron grate is placed over it to cook our food, and a bucket of water capable of swinging is built above that.

A central bell is installed close to the center of the tent arrangement to force everyone to get up. It’s to be struck with a mallet.

Tuesday, October 27 1 Gold Ring and 12 Gold Nuggets Someone else comes up with a piece of gold.

Only the evergreens still have their trees. Ronald and Ada collect what is pretty much the last apples of the season, and they are frozen cold. Colena still turns them into pie, but it is less tasty.

I empty my ketchup stocks during guard duty and the jar is given to Jerry to make a bomb.

Wednesday, October 28 1 Gold Ring and 12 Gold Nuggets Jerry finishes another bomb.

Thursday, October 29 1 Gold Ring and13 Gold Nuggets Someone else hits gold.

Friday, October 30 1 Gold Ring and 14 Gold Nuggets Someone else finds gold while panning in the river, but they come out shivering, and sit around the campfire for a few hours.

The river freezes solid tonight.

Saturday, October 31 1 Gold Ring and 14 Gold Nuggets The river is frozen enough to not break when Curtis clubs it with his rifle.

Sunday, November 1 Hi I guess, as I’ve run out of languages to say it in.

Today is rather foggy, and bitterly cold. It was warmer in the morning, where dew drops even formed on the pines of the evergreens. The dew quickly froze solid.

After a rather uneventful day, and while on guard duty, I hear a faint clanking of bells. This is followed by a shape rushing to the bell and beating it with a mallet. The person beating the bell is Emily, and they’re coming from her section. Rachael gets out of her tent and maneuvers her button over to the side where it comes from. Everyone with a gun (Jerry, Curtis and I, plus Ada who is using Jerry’s spare weapon). Then a figure emerges from the fog.

It’s an indegiounous man who raises his hands and yells “please! Don’t shoot!”.

“What happened to you?” says Colena.

“I’m huff being chased puff by those huff men puff. I don’t have any time to waste. Please, let me into your camp or I’ll be gone.”

We think about it. Colena advocates for shooting him. Emily and everyone else advocate against. We allow him to come into our camp, and hide him in a tent. Soon, we hear the distant barking and whining of agitated dogs. Horses follow in the distance. Then, a dog whines and trots about nervously, while the horsemen trot forward and load their rifles. They’re mere shapes in the dark right now, but they grow as they step forward. They advance until Colena yells “stop! Who are you?”

They halt right on Rachael’s landmines. Rachael fidgets with her button. One of them calls out “We’re police officers! We have reason to believe a fugitive has taken shelter on your land, and we ask permission to search it”.

Colena calls out again. “What warrant do you have? What has that man done?”.

Another deeper voice calls out. “That is none of your business!”

“You’re going to have to tell me if I let you pass!”

Emily butts in. “We’ll let you search the premises if you don’t touch our gold!”

The Mounties reply “What purpose do we have stealing your gold! Bah! Let us through!”.

Emily shoots back “You will not pass useless you can guarantee that!”

The Mounties, obviously frustrated, say “Who are you to dictate terms to us, officers of the law. Let us through immediately!”

Rachael says “oh well”. Then she claps her hand on her landmine button. It makes a sickening clack, and the officers grab their weapons. They are cut short, not by a rifle shot or a voice, although there is a deafening bang.

Then, fires erupt from the ground, and dirt and shrapnel shower over the camp.The distant mountains are lit up for a little bit before smoke removes the illumination. We see the RCMP officers staggering away from their nonexistent horses before they are swallowed by the dark and the smoke. The dark, thick smoke blows away from us in the stiff breeze, billowing up in thick grey columns. Before the smoke clears, I grab my gold, pack up my sleeping back, unload my rifle and walk off into the darkness. We don’t walk a long time before someone, namely the Native Canadian we saw, guides us to his home, a cave with a small fire, where we fall asleep.

Chelsea Jiang I woke up to the sound of two people shouting at each other outside our tent. I slowly sat up and squinted my eyes and tried to see who was shouting. It was the girl with the high pitched scream and one of the guys who shot the Mounties. I was confused because they were shouting about who should get “turned in” or something. That's when someone explained to me that there was a wanted poster in Dawson city with the two guys who shot the mounties on it. And they were debating whether to turn them in, get the money, and help them escape, or if they should just ignore the poster. The guy obviously didn’t want to get turned in but the girl said it would be a smart idea. I felt really sleepy so I went back to sleep instead of watching the fight.

For the next few days we continued to look for gold. That’s when I finally found my first golden nugget. It was a little smaller than Barnabus’s but it covered up 90% of my hand. I was so proud of myself, even though I had no idea what it was worth. Margaret found her first nugget too, but it was smaller than mine. I teased her about that and she didn’t seem very happy. I don’t really know what happened to the fight, since no one mentioned it again. I spent a few days just hanging around in plot 199 and actually enjoying myself for the first time in a few weeks.

I think the other people in my group were investigating Conrad's death, but I didn’t join in because I didn’t really feel like it. I barely said a word to that guy! I spent most of my time in the river or in the tent sleeping. I felt like I was missing lots of sleep so I spent an extra 30% of the day sleeping. I was a growing girl after all.

Then one night, I heard a loud commotion outside. I tried to get back to sleep, but couldn’t.

So I walked out of the tent. I could see light coming from somewhere in front of me. People were shouting and discussing something. Dad and Margaret were gone from the tent so I figured they had joined the commotion. I walked a bit further, just out of curiosity. I saw a few unfamiliar men talking with people in my group. Were they the police? What were they doing here? I ran up to Margaret, who was standing behind dad. I asked her what was wrong. She led me back to the tent and said she had just woken up and was still trying to figure out herself. But it had something to do with a fugitive. The men outside seemed to be warning us that the fugitive might be dangerous and we had to hand him over. “But did we actually let him into the camp? Where is he hiding?” I asked. “I don’t know Grace. It’s confusing. Go back to sleep, okay? I’m sure everything will be cleared up tomorrow morning.” She assured me. After that she went outside again and I tried to sleep. It was hard at first because people were still talking in loud voices outside, but my tiredness got the better of me and I fell asleep.

Betrayal Christina Ye

Ten voices overlap each other. Shouting, arguing, bellowing, and even screaming. It was daybreak and we had already started to fight. Upon the death of Barnabus, we were all confused and it caused us to make rash decisions. I was active throughout the first ten minutes of the conversation, but soon I lost my voice and was bewildered by the wild suggestions they were making. An example: “Here, let’s put Curtis and Jerry in prison.

They’re wanted, anyway.” Curtis and Jerry were the epicentre of the conversation, even if no one had noticed who they were yet. Murder and death were involved in most of our plans, and it was a giant mess.

Still tired from the previous night, I slowly crept out and took a short promenade in the forest. It looked like Rachael had similar thoughts, and I could see her walk just a couple metres off my trail. After ten minutes of walking, I turned behind me to see that Rachael was gone. I wasn’t worried, and looked up to see her inside of a tree. Of course, I left her there, but not for long.

From here, I could still hear the sounds of our teammates arguing, even if it was a tad bit quieter. Once I reached a forklift in the trail, I stopped and decided not to go further in case anything happened. For a while, I just stood there, until I spotted three men in the clearing.

They were really trying to be quiet, I could tell, but I wondered if they even had to with the amount of noise coming from camp. Nobody would hear them anyway. That’s when it occurred to me. Are they coming after us? They were standing dangerously close to camp, and I doubt it was a coincidence. One of them looked towards the forest, where I was standing, and I quickly ducked behind a bush to avoid being seen.

The men, not Mounties, nor police, gestured to each other and drew their weapons. Each one had a rifle, as well as a pistol strapped to their waist, and gave up being quiet once they had approached the edge of our camp. I knew I should have warned them, but if I went back now there was no doubt I’d die. From the bush, I checked to see if Rachael was there, and sure enough, she still was. It made me feel better knowing she wasn’t going to sacrifice herself either, so I held my cover and watched the live action movie in front of me.

“Alright!” one of the mysterious men shouted, putting an end to the arguments our friends were having. They all stopped and froze, realising their sudden threat. The same man spoke up again, firing a warning shot in the air just for fun. “Huh, maybe we should help settle these wanted individuals. I’m sure they’ll feel better soon enough,” he smirked, mocking our incompetence.

Luckily, during the arguments, a topic of weapons was brought up and most of the crew had brought their weapons out to check if they would be sufficient. From the back of the huddle our group stood in, Bryant pulled out his rifle and shot. Our opponents were much more experienced than the ones we had before, and noticed Bryant getting ready to shoot before it happened. One of their men shot simultaneously, and Bryant and him traded shots.

Blood splattered as the impact of the bullet launched him backwards into a tent. The same occurrence shot down Colena, and Curtis, the only positive side being that we had shot one man for every one of us they shot down.

In the middle, one of the men fell onto his knees, but wasn’t quite dead yet. Ada tackled him and pinned his chest to the ground, as Curtis aimed for the man and took him out. The

others were doing their fair share in trying to shoot at the men, but their aim and skill was far superior to ours.

I don’t know how we survived, but in a blur the men were either dead or running away. Our first instinct was to search the dead bodies, and we went one by one to each of the fallen mountains. There wasn’t much, except for a contract that stated they were to find and kill us, as well as take our plot. It rang a bell in our minds, and we knew that these men were probably the “people of violence” the two men in suits were talking about. They were hired by a credit company, and were supposedly going to wipe us out and claim the land.

Many of us were injured, so for the next three days we spent our time either healing, repairing, or once again searching for gold. I was unscathed, so I spent all of my time mining for gold like the previous weeks. On the third day, an awful lot of rain came and flooded our plot, but we were lucky enough that it uncovered some gold. We had a total of eight nuggets, which was quite good for only three days.

During the rainfall, we had separated ourselves to look for gold in the mud. Sure enough, I found one, alone. It was the first time I had held a bare nugget in my empty hands. The rain only made it sparkle more and more, and for a moment I let myself get too far. My brain screamed at the thought of getting rich, and even with attempts to rid myself of these thoughts they never went away. When I shoved them down, they only went halfway.

Even with my newfound gold, I wasn’t in my best mood. I wondered if the others had similar luck, or if I was the only one.

At the end of the day, the only thing we could do was rest. So while my brain fought against itself, I drifted off into sleep. ****** A crash. Pans jingling, bells ringing, and an intruder for sure. We are all forced awake and alert by the metal alarm that Emily had set up the night before. I got to admit- her extra fortification was extremely helpful. With our weapons slinged onto our shoulders, we slowly exited our tent, crouched and ready.

Outside, it was still dark, maybe around 2:00 in the morning. There are no early traces of light, and nothing to seep through the otherwise dark canvas. Owls whistle but all else is silent, except for the sound of metal. Everyone was still in pajamas, but that didn’t affect us and we assembled like a pack of wolves. Our camp was in the form of a circle, and so were our tents. From every angle, we approached the danger and left no blind spots. Across from me, Colena grabbed the emergency lantern and illuminated the scene for us to see.

In the middle, a man, about the age of twenty, lay on the floor. He had a bad wound in his shoulder, which dripped blood on the rough dirt. Pans and metal objects were piled around him, and his legs were tangled and stuck. His gaze shifted from the ground and he stared up at us, nervous and shaking. His hands went up beside his ears, and he said, “Just passing through,”. If you looked closely, you could tell he was a native from one of the local tribes. He spoke surprisingly good english, and wore fur coats with flower-printed patterns. We had him cornered, and any amount of movement would get him dead. Gradually, my shoulders relaxed and I loosened my grip on my gun.

We weren’t nearly done with him though, and Colena started to bombard him with questions. We were still cautious, but less worried because of our obvious advantage. “What are you doing?” she asked, confused but determined.

He repeated his words, “Just passing through,” and refused to say more. Our eyes searched every inch of his body for danger or weapons, but besides a small pouch there was

nothing. That answer satisfied none of us, and Colena asked again, “Why are you ‘just passing’?”

“I’m being chased,” he sighed, getting more and more anxious. His confession was followed by the stomping of hoof beats and the shouting of men. It seemed that whoever his so-called “chasers” were were getting closer and closer. We needed to act fast, but indecisiveness was common amongst us and soon there were at least four different conversations happening at once. We had two main options: hide him, or let him continue wandering off. We took a vote and decided to hide him in one of our tents. Quickly, we zipped it closed and covered him in a mass of blankets.

Hiding a hostage was always fun when you knew who the enemy was. When you don’t know, sometimes things can go horribly wrong. Horses, men, and even the sound of dogs barking got far too close for comfort, and once again we had our weapons loaded. Their hounds came to a dead stop in front of our camp, and the supposed mounties got off of their horses and started to talk.

“Wagner? This is Wagner, right?” he looked around at his men for confirmation, and they all agreed and he continued, “We have reason to believe you have a fugitive on your property.

They might be of danger.”

After Emily and Colena exchanged a couple muffled conversations with the mounties, Emily agreed to open the gate as long as they didn’t take anything. “One step in the wrong direction, and you’ll be shot,” she warned, before opening up the wooden gate.

This seemed to agitate the leader, but he said nothing and got inside our camp. As they walked past, Colena drew her bow and set a stone cold stare at the group of men. The leader met her gaze, and suddenly snapped.

“DO NOT, I said DO NOT DICTATE US! Do you see this?” he boomed, pointing to his badge.

From behind, I had just noticed Rachael sitting next to her lever, which would detonate the edges of the camp. She wore a malicious smile, but let the man continue to talk “Do you see it? I am the law, and you will not, you WILL NOT-” Rachael? Rachael...

A huge “Thuum” exploded across the camp. Horses whinnyed and threw mounties of their saddles, the hounds barked, men screamed. We were dead, right? I’m convinced that we should be dead.

But it seems that the assorted children of Wagner never die.

Hopi (Emily Wu) “Why are you in the north?” A chorus of voices accused me and fingers pointed at me.

I squirmed, a smooth material constricted my mouvement. My soft clothing rubbed against the sweat on my skin. I panted as my body couldn’t decide whether it was too hot or cold. I tried flapping my arms to cool down, but my arms wouldn’t move. A cold breeze blows through my ponytail. I whimpered as I started shivering.

I looked around, it was dark. An eerie dark, like the graveyards we pass by on the way to the social house. I could make out the dead trees somewhere ahead.

Then, a cold dead hand covered in a warm liquid held my shoulder. I jolted at the touch and looked at the hand. Warm, thick, blood-red liquid dripped down my shoulder. It covered the bony-white hand on my shoulder. A soft puff of air warmed my ears as a voice rasped with a breathy shudder.

“Why did you let this happen?” I looked back. Barnabus stared back at me with frustrated tears in his eyes. I swallowed down the ball of guilt and remorse, shaking my head as I stared down. I never stopped feeling guilty over not helping [Rachael] and Barnabus on that trail, so many weeks ago. I had never apologized to Barnabus, never got a chance to prove that I wasn’t apathetic and that I was sorry. Now, I would never get the chance to try and apologize.

I felt the resentment growing in his gaze as he stared me down. I shut my eyes, telling myself that this was a dream. A nightmare, but a dream nonetheless. His once kind voice grated against my ear.

“Why?” I opened my mouth, yet I couldn’t say anything. Nothing came out, not even a slightest sound. He scoffed and strutted away, a single phrase turning the forming the world.

“Nevermind, you’re not worth wasting my time.” I mutely wiped the tear forming in my eyes. It was his opinion, I couldn’t change the opinion of a dead man. The floor I stood on began spinning, like the small whirlwind of water that formed when you spun water around.

The tang of blood attacked my senses, I looked around.

Barnabus was no longer in front of me, instead I was in a stadium of sorts. I hear a man excitedly announce Adriel and Ahanu’s names. The cheers of invisible people rang through the air. I could hear roaring and yowls in the distance. Bones cracked and snapped; the sound of blood splattering on a smooth floor made my knees shudder in fear as I prayed that the noise wasn’t what I thought it was.

The sharp tang of blood in my mouth told me everything I needed to know. I was about to run and investigate when I heard two voices yelling in the distance. A boy and a girl. I scrunch up my face, my leg twitches with the urge to run. This was an excuse, a possible flimsy reasoning to deny what laid in the future.

Like the coward I was, I ran away and tripped. Falling away from the consequences of what happened because I didn’t have gold or skills to earn money. Drowning in the dark future.

I gasp as I awoke. I took a minute, trying to control my erratic breathing, as my eyes darted around me. The howling and sound of cracked bones haunting my ears and mind. The yelling was still there, why was there still yelling?

I wiped my eyes and shook my head. Standing up, I went out of the tent to be the middleman I always am.

“We’re the one’s protecting you crazy bunch!” [Curtis] yelled as he gestured to everyone else.

[Colena] screamed back.

“You’re the one who gets us into these situations! We also want the gold from your wanted poster!” A disgusted murmur throughout the crowd about how [Colena] was much more annoying. They continued arguing and talking over each other. Knowing that there would be no pause to speak, I butt in, trying to casually defuse the situation with a possible solution.

“We can hand them in, for the money, then bail them out before their executions so we still have protection.” [Colenna] pointed at [Curtis] and [Jerry].

“They volunteered to get killed!” The boys cried out in denial. I took a glance at them before replying.

“Well, they obviously don’t want to die anymore. So -” People cut me off with loud murmurs.

Then they point their fingers.

“How about we hand [Colena] in and let her fight prisoners? She’s really annoying and got us shot!” My eyes widened in shock. Instinctively I cried out.

“NO!” She pointed at herself.

“I’m bait! Not a prisoner!”

Everyone went into a downward spiral, no one was letting the other finish. It was a screaming match where everyone involved bickered. There was no respect, no cooperation between the three at all. Instead, animosity and exasperation boiled over. The girl and two boys with guns kept arguing and fighting each other. I was still too pent up with anxiety and frustration to continue this supposed game. I decided to watch and say nothing, they were always arguing

with each other, they simply were too determined in anything they did. It was about time they learned to get along without my pushing.

I tried to make my mind drift into memories or turn into duty, but I just couldn’t stop tensing at every shouted word.

Soon, someone pointed out the idea of splitting out. To my mortification, everyone began agreeing with the proposition. That was too far. I stomped my foot as I snarled, trying to cover up the hurt in my eyes because I was the adult of this group.

“We aren’t splitting up! If we do, we’re all going to die out in the wilderness from either starvation or murder!” Everyone snorted at my outburst before arguing amongst themselves again. One main question plaguing the conversation.

What to do with [Curtis], [Jerry] and [Colenna]. My morals wouldn’t let me wish harm on them even if I believed wholeheartedly that they should learn self-restraint.

“What do we do? They’re wanted!” We were all squawking at one another in circles when a voice called out from the road.

“Alright! Maybe we can help settle this? You hand up whatever wanted individual you have and we’ll protect you from him.” I inwardly cringed, I didn’t want to give up the boys or our protection.

Especially not when I could see my own brother in their fire determination to get stronger.

[Colena] responds with a “We’re fine” and before the conversation could continue, I catch Bryant raising his gun and try to warn him.

“Don’t-!” He fires.

Chaos erupts.

Bullets fly past us as I quickly order everyone to stop shooting and staying away from danger.

People kept shooting wildly at each other as the officers cried out in surprise. They bellow that “These kids are violent!”. I see bullets pierce the children but they just keep shooting. I try following [Rachael] into the forest but bullets fly past me, forming a road I can’t cross.

Eventually, the men retreat, leaving a dead corpse behind. This was one out of many people that died during my time in the North. I glance around, the boys are bleeding but there’s nothing I could do about it. They were using their guns to threaten everyone to not crowd them. I sighed, reminding myself that it was their choice and to let them feel some of the consequences.

Hopeful for some bandages or information, we shuffled to the body left behind and went through the casualty’s pockets. I wished that this was a successful hunt for food, not a needless death resulting from trigger-happy children.

The only notable thing he had was a contract. After wiping away some of the blood, the words became legible. Apparently the men were hired to come and take our plot of land. I blinked, remembering the conversation we overheard between two men. It seems this was what they meant by “violence specialists”.

We started a poll on what to do. Either we go look for help in the town - and risk others recognizing us - or we deal with the situation ourselves. I volunteered to go into town on my own for medicine but no one heard me. After some bickering, the resulting majority ended up voting to deal with the situation ourselves.

We then started wondering about what to do with the dead person outside. [Curtis], the boy with the same thirst for fighting, believed we should leave the body outside and let the blood be a warning. I was against the idea, but eventually, he somehow convinced the others it was a good idea.

I have no clue how there ended up only being one other attacker. Later that day, I came back here on the road to bury the man. It was disrespectful to let a corpse, human or otherwise, to rot away in the open. I stand by that ideology. It was a stupid idea that magically didn’t have consequence or reason to leave the body outside.

I shuddered at how I had thought the boys acted like Adriel, I didn’t want to think he was blood-thirsty. Adriel just liked fighting and getting strong, that doesn’t equate to sadistic killing.

No one seemed to notice that I buried the man. I had placed some leaves on top of him to cover the burial site, I didn’t want anyone looting him.

The next few days passed by rather peacefully, surprisingly. It was new but pleasant to be able to continue working without having to listen to more gunshots. A pattern I couldn’t help but notice was however time we got into a fight with an outside group, our group calmed down and went back to tolerating each other.

It was rather worrying how only in dire situations did they slightly trust each other. I suppose the idea of a greater danger brought people together, no matter how aggravating the blend between these dramatically different personalities were.

The first day I went to the river in hopes of finding some gold, I needed to have some gold to sell for money. I felt a surge of pridefulness run through me when I saw the shiny reflection of a gold nugget in my pan, I kept quiet as I hid it in my pockets. [Rachael] and [Jerry] decided to continue making bombs, those two seemed to have a passion and affinity with explosions. Those who got shot yesterday had to rest, no matter how much whining they did.

The next day, me and [Chelsea] tried to find some herbs for medicine. Just in case we had a sickness or more injuries in the future. I found two herbs that seemingly soothed pain, I tested.

By biting my tongue and punching myself before eating the plant.

The third day, there was a heavy downpour. The spirits seemed to be crying at the brutality of our journey, I felt every fiber of my being crying as well. There was just so much death, every time I tried to peacefully negotiate, someone would insult or shoot their weapon. The mist had covered my eyes and made any gold difficult to find. I didn’t find any gold. Fortunately, [Angela] told me she found more gold. I felt a surge of happiness at the memory, she was so confused and excited. I was just glad someone was getting something out of this tornado.

On the last day, I was alarmed by my security system clanging and ringing loud and clear through the camp. Someone tried to pass through camp, I had to check for danger. Quickly, I jumped up and grabbed my bow and arrow before gathering everyone to where someone got caught by my string.

[Colena] had a lamp and turned the light on. There was a man, indigenous like me, who was tangled in string and bleeding from his shoulder. I cock my head as he holds up his hands.

“No, no! I’m just passing through!” She glares at him as she demands to know what he’s doing here. I hear the others howling for his blood, the treatment ringing in my ears.

This man looks like a peaceful man. He doesn’t seem toxic.

He repeats his words. A flurry of hoofbeats stomp in the distance, dogs barking and men shouting rumbling the calm morning. I see flashes of light zipping around in the trees. The man mutters that he doesn’t have time for this and says he’s running from the mounties. My blood starts churning, rushing through my body like a waterfall.

Ignoring the cutting declarations of “He’s a wolf! He’ll kill us!” I cut the ropes and led him towards camp. I eventually countered the declarations from [Curtis] and [Jerry].

“We’re fourteen people with weapons! He’s one man! Not much of a threat! He’s an ally!” We rush to hide him within gold storage by the tents. A call from the Mounties echoed towards us.

“He went this way! The hounds are on him!” Muttering a quick “dang it!”, I discreetly toss him an herb from before rushing to the entrance.

We climb up the stairs behind my walls for six weeks. Voices call out through the trees as I arrive. [Colena] was trying to hold them off by deflecting and asking them questions.

He sighed, seemingly frustrated by her constant rejections and told me to open the door. I narrow my eyes, bristling before answering.

“Alright, I’ll open the gate.” They nodded before I dropped the bomb on them. “On the condition that you’ll stay away from the gold stash. We don’t have reason to trust you.” The man

chortled in a pompous fashion, air shooting through his nostrils like a bull. I kept a straight face despite my heart racing.

No, I mustn’t show fear. They’ll take advantage of that.

He was red in the face as he swung his fists around. His little temper tantrum went through one ear and out the other. I raised an eyebrow in a doubtful and nonchalant ‘so?’. I was tired from having to work as well as trying to keep a leash on the children so they didn’t kill us all. His face turned purple.

This man is acting like a child. This man is acting as much of a child as my other members.

I was busy trying to tell the stubborn bull that it was either take the offer or leave when a click went through me. Dread splashed in my stomach as everything shook.

The night ignited in a single moment.

A burst of hot light exploded around the forest. I felt a pang of sadness as the ground illuminated with fire. Men were yelling, dogs barking in fear as they retreated. The crackle of the resulting fire burned the forest and ground. Birds were scattering and crying as they fled their burning homes. Hot tears fell down my cheeks as I mournfully watched the fire piercing the night.

This wasn’t what I wanted. This was not what I wanted to do. I didn’t like the rude officers but the animals and forest didn’t deserve to burn like this. My Cherokee voice that somehow survived this trek was screaming at me for the destruction that was happening around me.

Unfortunately, I knew I couldn’t do anything to stop the unforgiving annihilation of the beautiful forest that was our home for our stay in the north. I was too late to prevent this.

[Rachael] had detonated the bombs.

Colena Shan 1896

BETRAYAL Madness by Moonlight, Death at Dawn -----------------------------------------------This chapter is only called Betrayal because Ronald left Ada when she was in trouble (something about hanging upside down in a tree?). I’m not going into details since it’s Ronald and Ada’s story to tell.

I don’t remember much about these three weeks….

Well, let’s start here. We’d just seen Barnabus, dead, with no sign of his big gold chunk. The people who murdered him were riding horses. That’s all we knew.

***

We’re back at the Social House.

Everyone woke up to me and Curtis arguing (I never get along with Bryant, Curtis, and Jerry ☺), screaming louder than ever. We were discussing what to do next and Curtis had suggested we turn him in to the police, get the reward money, and break him out of jail before the execution happened.

“The WANTED poster only said, ‘$200, Dead or Alive’, It didn’t say anything about an execution,” I said. “We could do with the money though.”

“Wait—I don’t want to be handed in,” Curtis said.

“WHAT THE HELL, YOU JUST SAID YOU WANTED TO BE HANDED IN TO THE POLICE AND THEN WE GET MONEY AND THEN WE BREAK YOU OUT!” I shouted.

“I SAID JERRY SHOULD BE HANDED IN!” Curtis shouted.

Emily stepped between us. She’s this girl who hates fighting and arguments. *sighs again* “What’s going on?” she asked.

“DON’T PRETEND TO BE BLIND OR DEAF!” I shouted at her, and then I resumed my argument with Curtis.

“YOU LITERALLY SAID YOU WANTED TO BE HANDED IN!” I screamed.

“WELL, I’M CHANGING MY MIND! HAND JERRY IN! HE’S TOUGHER THAN I AM, SO HE CAN BREAK OUT OF JAIL BY HIMSELF, IN CASE WE BETRAY HIM!” Curtis yelled.

“The hell with you two,” grumbled somebody.

“Let’s bait Colena!” Bryant suggested. “She’s so annoying, anyone’d attack her.”

“And hand her in!—and kill her!” Jerry added.

“Well—she’s not WANTED like you,” Bryant pointed out. “Just use her as bait.”

Suddenly, one person that wasn’t in our group moved, and Bryant whipped out his gun and attempted to shoot that dude. He was slower, though, and got shot, and he collapsed to the floor.

This was gonna become a fiasco, so I decided to shoot the guy who shot Bryant. I got my bow and nocked an arrow as fast as I could. Me and the person I was shooting at both shot at the same time. We both fell to the ground, as Curtis and another person started fighting.

Ada tackled another dude, and after Curtis struggled to his feet (he and the person he was fighting both knocked each other to the floor), he joined Ada and killed the person.

This brawl-thingy happened close to our camp. Curtis and Jerry wanted to leave bodies lying around so that Mounties would come and they wanted to shoot police, or at least some trace of

evidence that we’d done some killing, but everyone else disagreed. Curtis left a pool of blood on the road, though.

For the first week, Bryant, Curtis, and I were unable to do anything but heal. It was so annoying, feeling useless.

Rachael made more bombs (good lord, what is she planning to do with all of those bombs, blow us up?). Jerry made something too—and he had gotten better at making stuff, so whatever he made was better than what he had made in the previous weeks.

Ada and Ronald intended to kill people and steal their gold again. I heard their mission didn’t go very successfully…

Christina, Angela, Emily, Chelsea, Jocelyn and Cynthia decided to look for gold. They found 2 gold nuggets.

For week two, Rachael, Christina, Angela, Bryant, Curtis, Cynthia and I looked for gold. We found four gold nuggets.

Jerry attempted to make something but failed, and it blew up in his face. It was a mini explosion though, so it didn’t do much damage to him.

Emily and Chelsea looked for medicinal herbs to treat wounds, and they found enough to treat 4 wounds.

Ada and Ronald decided to try their luck again and headed into the forest to look for people to steal from (when will they learn not to steal?). This was the time Ronald betrayed Ada. Ada got caught in a trap, and Ronald wanted to help her, but it was too high for him to reach, so he gave up and left her there.

When he came back to camp, everyone started calling Ronald “TRAITOR!” or else just yelling at him. Rachael demanded why he didn’t climb a tree to reach Ada. Ada eventually got released from the trap (some guy let her go), and rejoined us.

Week three.

Everyone looks for gold this week. We found 4 more pieces, bringing us to a total of 18 nuggets.

*** It was a rainy evening and we were just settling down when we heard something—it sounded like someone had gotten stuck in the weapons Emily made. I went to check it out, followed by Curtis and a few others.

I took a lantern to help see better.

A guy who looked like he was being chased was quite clearly stuck in whatever Emily had hung on poles and wires.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hi,” he said.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Just passing through,” said the person.

“Oh, really?” I said.

We debated on whether to give this guy shelter, and the majority of us (not including me) wanted to help. So we brought him to our tent, and we heard hoofbeats approaching.

I went outside again with some other people, expecting whoever was approaching as some of the guy’s pursuers.

Mounties were arriving on horseback, accompanied by some hounds, and as soon as they saw the pool of blood near our campsite, and saw Curtis, they recognized him immediately and they loaded their rifles and shot him in the face and Curtis died (no, sadly, that did not actually happen, the rain had washed the pool of blood long ago, and it was way too dark to see Curtis’s face properly, so the Mounties couldn’t identify him as a criminal).

Instead, the Mounties stopped at the—er—shield-thingy Emily had made.

“Hello,” I said for the second time that evening.

“Hello, miss,” one of them said. “We’re looking for a dangerous criminal. Has he gone through your camp, is he sheltering here?”

“What makes you think he sheltered here?—whoever this guy is?” I asked.

“Well, our hounds know his scent, and we’ve been following it, and it stops here,” answered the Mountie.

“And what makes him so dangerous?” I said.

“Well, he-he—trust me miss, you don’t want to help him,” said the Mountie. “Now…can…can you please move this barricade, so we may do our job?”

“Don’t ask me,” I said. “I didn’t make it. My friend—” I pointed at Emily, who is so not my friend, “—Emily—she made this. Ask her.”

The Mounties turned to her. “Remove this barricade, miss. We’re only doing our job.”

Emily frowned. After a brief hesitation she said, “Alright. I’m going to move a piece so you can come in, but on one condition: You don’t get close to the gold.”

“We don’t want gold,” one of the Mounties said.

“NO GETTING CLOSE TO THE GOLD,” Emily said firmly.

“It is not for you to set conditions,” said a voice…behind me? “Our word is law. And—” And suddenly, I heard Rachael do something…and the bombs she’d buried underneath the ground blew up.

I’m not sure why, but Rachael, Christina and I for some reason yelled, “Madness by moonlight, death by dawn!”

This is going well. Our camp has been blown up by Rachael, and we don’t have to listen to the voice’s boring speech.

Still, I want to know more about the person who was being chased, so I guess I should—

Cynthia L We went back to our base when the sun went down behind the mountains, tents, and stuff were lying on the ground. We drank some water and went to sleep. Nothing happened, and I finally was able to get a good sleep.

The next day, I went for the gold again. I panned in Bonanza Creek, and found one gold nugget! We were making good progress. I went back to rest and heard that a member of my group was trying to rob someone, accidentally stepped in a snare, and was pulled up in the air.

Ronald, who was with her at the time, didn’t help her and ran away. That was a funny betrayal if you think about it.

I lay on my bed and pulled out all the gold I found in the last couple of weeks. I counted 4. I added the nugget I found today to the little golden pile and stashed them in a small brown bag. I put the bag away and stepped out of my tent. Yesterday, Rachel, the bomb expert made a bomb. Yes, she made a bomb, but for what? Plus, I was still thinking about Conrad. Did he get the money in time? I went out of my base and tried to find anything that could be Conrad-related. I quickly strolled over to the shop with the suspicious bone because I wanted to examine it one last time. And guess what? It was gone. The bone was gone. I ran over to the shopkeeper and asked who bought the bone yesterday. It was a shady-looking woman wearing dark clothes with black hair. She stole the bone without the shopkeeper even noticing! “People these days… always committing crimes..” muttered the shopkeeper.

I waved goodbye and went back to the base. I climbed into my warm bed and fell asleep almost immediately. Suddenly, I was woken up by a loud noise. I looked out, and the sky was still dark. A fugitive had stumbled into our base and was being questioned. People in my group started arguing whether or not to kill him or keep him. The fugitive said that he was being chased, and he needed somewhere to hide. Someone pointed his rifle at the man. “We have to kill him, he could be a spy!” he argued. “No! Maybe we should keep him. He might be of some help.” insisted another person. She leaned over to the person holding his rifle, and whispered: “Or we could use him as bait.” He grunted and lowered his rifle. “Thank you, good sir.“ said the fugitive in relief.

Suddenly we heard hoofbeats thumping the ground.

Betrayal by:Curtis Yang Today a man who was in a similar situation as me, came to our camp and was also being hunted by the same people who wanted me, so we decided to let him stay after talking to him. We also killed many of the people who were hunting us with one of the many plans which everybody voted on, although I did get injured I delivered the finishing blow to the person who injured me and I healed overtime, after we killed him we were left with two options: ask for help or deal with it ourselves. Everybody agreed to deal with it ourselves instead of possibly getting caught or turned in.

Rachael Monday, November 3, 1896 to Monday, November 16, 1896 Hello again, Really, what must make life so hard? What in the world is life anyway? Because there are millions, perhaps billions, of people in the world, and your life, unless you do something significant, is just a speck in that. That was what I was wondering as I fell into an unsettling sleep. I woke up the next morning unenthusiastically. I wondered what I should do next, then went outside. I fiddled with the detonator button for a minute, before I saw everyone come out, and joined them to discuss what to do next.

A couple of us were arguing to turn Jerry and Curtis in - I agreed with them because we’re just putting ourselves in danger hiding them. Bryant wanted to use Colena as bait because she always got into trouble, which I immediately thought no, because what in the whole wide world did she do? Curtis and Jerry shot a couple of mounties and murdered other people, so they deserve to go to jail! I walked away, shaking my head.

I was about to go and place more bombs around the camp (not a great idea on my part) , when I spotted a man watching us from the forest line. I sneaked around him and tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped, and I saw on his face a fearful look. His features were blighted out from the shadows of the forest, and I asked who he was. His response was the weirdest ever.

“Uhhh, I - call me Clear Sky,” he said. I suspected that this guy was Indigenous because many Indigenous Peoples had names like that translated into their tribes’ languages. I personally do not have one myself - I had never known my mother, who was Indigenous.

“Alright - maybe we can settle this - you can just pass off whatever wanted individuals you want to us - and maybe we can protect you from them.” I heard a voice behind me, and turned around. Three people were blocking the way to the road, and Christina had seen them. Bryant shot one of them, then doubled over and collapsed. Both Colena and Curtis did as well, trying to shoot them I think. ‘Clear Sky’ looked at me looking extremely scared and said: “You guys are so violent!” Then, he darted off into the trees. “No, wait, I can explain-” I said after him, and I broke into a run as I followed him. He was faster than me, and I soon lost him. I returned to the camp to see Ada pinning a guy to the ground and Curtis shooting him.

Two more bodies were lying around, and I assumed they were dead as well. Worst, we’d had a witness to all of this, and Bryant, Colena, and Curtis would all be charged with attempted murder or murder.

The next few weeks passed uneventfully, We pooled together 10 pieces of gold in those three weeks, and I also found 1 gold nugget by myself and managed to slip it down my sleeve without telling anyone. I built more bombs and spread them around the camp in the first week, and someone shot a few geese and we roasted them for a few meals. All of us searched for gold in the last week, and turned out with 4 pieces of gold pooled together.

On the last night, as we got settled into bed, a loud crashing noise from the pots and pans that Emily hung up came. We all got up to investigate, with Colena holding a lantern she had found. It was an Indigenous man, though I couldn’t tell which tribe. He was bleeding from his right shoulder, and I thought it looked quite nasty, but this was a complete stranger to me so I didn’t offer to clean it. He held up his hands in a sign of surrender and said: “No, no no, I’m just passing through, I’m just passing through.”

“What are you doing in our camp?” Colena asked.

“Running? Just running. I’m just passing through.”

“Why are you passing through? Where are you going?”

“Because I’m being chased!”

“You’re being chased by who?”

“I don’t have time for this!” There were hoofbeats, and the sounds of dogs barking.

“Wait… Are you running from mounties?” Colena asked.

“Yes!” “Have you committed a crime or whatever?”

“No!” “Um...Why should I believe you?” More hoofbeats and more dogs. That question was left unanswered. We debated amongst ourselves whether to help him, then agreed to hide him in our camp. Curtis thought he was a mountie in disguise, and I thought that Curtis was an idiot. The hoofbeats and dog barks drew closer and closer, and now they were accompanied by whistles. There were some lights coming closer, and some lanterns illuminated brown horses with a man in a mountie’s uniform sitting on top of the horses. Some were calling: “He went this way! The hounds, the hounds, the hounds are on him! He must have gone this way!” One by one, different individuals, all in the same uniform and on identical horses, emerged from the forest, staying just on the edge of Plot One Hundred Ninety-Nine.

The one at the front stood right behind where the line of bombs were, and I chuckled to myself, thinking that this was going to be a fun night. The rest were lined up behind him and beside him, unable to actually pass through the barricade that Emily had built. Curtis had left a pool of blood there as a warning, which I didn’t understand because it just made it even more conspicuous that we (more like Curtis, Jerry, Bryant, and Colena) had murdered people. One of the people, standing at the front, held up his lantern and yelled: “Wagner? Is this the Wagner company?”

“Yes it is! How may I help you?” Colena yelled.

“We’re sorry to bother you during the night, but we have a reason to believe a fugitive might be hiding inside your property.”

“And what is that reason?”

“Well, you see, our hounds are on his trail, and it seems to have ended here. You might be in danger.” (really? We’ve seen him and you know better than that, what could a random Indigenous man with a cut on his shoulder and nothing else except clothes do?) He continued: “Miss, if you could move this barricade, we could find him and keep you safe.”

“It wasn’t me who erected this barricade. Emily did. If you want, you can ask Emily - she’s the one who’s crazy about defence and stuff.” (*ahem* do I not exist????)

Emily moved forward and said: “Hello?”

“Um, hi! Yes. Miss, you might be in danger.”

“Um, but why?”

“From the dangerous fugitive who seems to have taken refuge on your property.”

“What’s so dangerous about him?” Colena asked (sensible and I’m not being sarcastic here).

“In the name of the law, move this gate so that we may do our duty and bring this renegade to justice!” (go read the Canadian Bill of Rights and tell me what right you have on there to arrest a perfectly fine Indigenous man. And how in the whole wide confusing world is this person a renegade?)

“Ohh, but I just told you, I don’t know how to remove this, my friends do,” Colena said (like are you deaf you idiotic mountie? How did you pass your oral tests in school?!). Colena continued: “Now, what is so dangerous about the fugitive?”

(Like I think it’s a pretty simple question). He replied something I couldn’t hear.

“Okay, I’ll move the gate as long as you stay out of the gold ‘cause I can’t trust you to not take any.”

“We do not want your gold, and you do not dictate the terms to us!” (I thought this was a democracy...Where’s the freedom of speech now?) “I am the law (how do you be the law) and you must obey the-” At that point, I was extremely paranoid of idiots coming to our camp for no particular reason, so I detonated the ring of explosives (yuh the solution to everything go brrrrrr). The whole night was illuminated in bright red flame that burst into the sky with a loud boom, and I grinned, watching as smoke launched itself into the sky, forming indescribable shapes, then curling and disappearing into the stars. There was the sound of hoofbeats, and I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself as they fled. The flame danced like it was life, and I watched as the fire spread, creating a scene that looked like a very fiery sunset from a distance.

SESSION FIVE

Out with a Bang

CHAPTER 5: OUT WITH A BANG Thick smoke covered our camp making it hard to breath and see. Hounds barked in the distance while hoof beats raced off in the direction of Dawson city. Our camp was a wreck.

The buried bombs blew up the surrounding area making it an open target.

“We should go.” said Emily. “This place is no longer safe.”

I agreed. I quickly scavenged around to gather any necessary items and any belongings that I had left. Well at least the ones that survived and didn’t get wrecked. Thankfully my tent was stationed near the center and was relatively far from where the bombs had been buried.

Quickly me and a few others rushed off towards the forest with Emily in the lead.

Unsurprisingly, Rachel, Colena, and Jerry decided to stay and make a futile resistance to defend our camp. Not the best course of action I thought.

Anyways, rushing through the forest at night was not easy. Especially since we had to be very careful not to trespass into someone else’s plot as they are hostile because they think that we might steal their gold. We ran for hours and hours.

It was around 4 am when the group who decided to stay rejoined us. Suddenly, I heard a rustling behind the bushes. We quickly took our guns out. A figure with his hands held high emerged. It was the native person that we had saved. I let out a sigh of relief.

“Calm down I mean no harm. Quickly, follow me. We don’t have time.” he explained.

He led us through the forest and to a small rocky mountain. Thick moss grew around it.

When you look at it from the outside, it looks like a flat wall. However, the native walked over and went right through. He stuck his head back out and motioned for us to follow.

Inside was a reasonably large cave. In one corner, there was a makeshift bed and a few furniture. Directly across from it laid a stack of equipment and supplies. He explained that he had used this as his base of operation during hunting season.

“Rest here for the night and leave tomorrow morning. With this I’ve paid you back the debt that I owe you.” the native stated.

The next morning, a warm breeze blew inside as I sat up. It was well over noon.

“Ah, I see you’ve woken up. I thought it would be best to let you sleep for a while longer as you looked very tired.” the native explained as he saw your confused expression. “I’ll help you as much as possible but I will not bring you to my people as I have no reason to trust you.

You all left my friend there dead. Not a burial dug nor a tear shed.”

“Do you know who killed Barnabus?” someone piped up.

“Of course. It was those guys in uniforms driven by greed. It was the reason why they chased me. Greed the thing that drove all of you up here. The desire for gold for the sole purpose of becoming rich. All of you are the same.”

“What gives you the right to judge?” Someone said aguishly.

“I don’t judge but merely observe. I observed not just you but everyone” he replied. “The land was ours before that man Conrad paid our people and declared that the land was now his.

Now look at you all wreaking and destroying the peace and harmony of the sacred land.” he said slightly raising his tone. “Well, enough of that.”

The native gave us a quick description of the land. He told us where we should avoid, where he believed the Cliffton gang and the Mounties resided, etc.

It was nearly 5:00 in the afternoon when we finally arrived at the outskirts of Dawson City. We walked as a group through the front as we always have. Thankfully, no one seems to be paying attention or looking our way.

As we made our way towards the social house, I could hear many conversations. Mostly blaming everything bad that’s been happening on the children of Wagner. We”ve become quite popular I thought.

When we arrived, I noticed that there were less people here than usual.

“Why do you think they killed him?” one men asked “You saw it yourself. It was as big as a fist.” the other replied. “You know, you’re always going on and on about your conspiracy theories. But have you ever considered that people like you go around telling everyone that he had a gold nugget as big as a fist?!”

“It’s the government I tell ya. Where do you think they get the funds and all that gold?

We’re the only ones who got it!” the first men yelled and they continued to bicker.

Hearing all that, we were more sure than ever that it was the Mounties who behind everything. After much discussion, we decided that it was best for us to go to the Mountie’s Station. Our plan was simple. Some of us would walk into the front and distract the Mounties while the others would sneak in from the back to look for clues and evidence.

We pushed back the wooden doors and walked in. The person sitting behind the front desk was extremely skinny. His uniform looked too big to fit him while his hat was too large to sit properly on his head. He had his pen out and a piece of newspaper in front of him.

He looked up and said, “How may I help you?”

“If I can’t help you, you can help me.” He smirked.

Meanwhile, the people who snuck in from the back snuck in through an open window.

There were 3 empty cells along the hallway. As they walked further down, there was an office and a locker room on the right. They first went into the locker room. However there were no giant clumps of gold.

Then they went to the office instead. The office was quite messy with papers and files scattered everywhere. Everywhere but one desk. There was a name plate that read “Lieutenant Mercer”. Unlike the other desks, this one was abnormally neatly organized and sparkling clean. Searching around, they found many documents showing him purchasing large seemingly useless land. There was a file case filled with letters written between Conrad and Lt Mercer. It featured a plan that included Mercer spreading gold nuggets around while Conrad would get people to come and search for gold. Some people would find the gold and word would spread. Then they would be able to sell the land off with high prices. They would have to silence a few mouths here and there and push out a few determined miners but other than that, it would be a pretty good business. However Conrad soon got tired of having to scout people and complained that he was getting little benefits from this. He demanded to be taken out of the operation. Mercer then threatened that he had kept records of their conversations and should Conrad break their contract, Conrad would be brought to bankruptcy.

The strange thing was, on all of the letters, nothing showed any connection of Mercer being involved. No signing, no signature, no nothing.

When Angela got tired and decided to lean on a wall, her foot felt something loose on the floor. She kneeled down and knocked. It sounded hollow. There was definitely something underneath there. She tried to force it open but it was stuck real good. Christina walked over and ripped the floorboard with her bare hands.

Underneath it laid a safe. They scavenged around for the 3 numbered code. Colena as usual decided to try random numbers. Ronald however found some old files on the plans for Dawson City, a geographic map, and the periodic table. They then deduced that the code was 079 (number for gold on the periodic table).

When they opened the safe, they found 3 things. A little box of bullets with the same shell casing found at Barnabu’s death sight, an empty box for holding a gun (probably with the Lieutenant at the moment), and Barnabus’s big gold nugget wrapped in cloth.

The sun was going down as we left the Station. It was nearly dark when we were exiting the town. As we were, 2 men wearing uniforms walked past us. The older, more keen

one paused and looked back at us. At that moment, Cynthia slapped the back of a nearby horse causing it to run wild. The men looked away. By the time he looked back. We were already gone.

We returned to the road walking faster than ever. By the time the Lieutenant returned, he would discover a dead Duey (the skinny mountie) and possibly his files missing. For the next following weeks, we traveled cautiously. When we thought it was safe, we would emerge from the forest and travel on the road. When we thought it was dangerous, we would go back into the forest and travel from there.

One night when Emily was keeping watch, she heard a loud group of hoofs thundering past (not even trying to be quiet) 600 or so meters away on the road.

The next morning, she informed us that there were Mountie’s standing between us and Chilkoot Pass. I gulped knowing that we were about to head straight into a lion’s den. If only we didn’t anger them this much I thought. Oh well, no use in thinking about it now. We decided to deal with it as it goes.

When we arrived at Chilkoot pass, we joined with everyone else who were on their way back home for the wInter before the pass closes. All I could think about was how to get through today safe and sound. The climb up was surprisingly easy as we were already used to this kind of environment and had already done this once. Colena wanted to stomp through while Rachel wanted to bomb her way through. I flinched at the thought. Thank god, Rachel changed her mind and decided that it would be best for her to plant the bombs at the base of the mountain and ignite it when it was necessary.

As we neared the top, we saw the small fortified place with nearly 20 people. There were mixed uniforms. It was a makeshift medical center with usually little people. The Lieutenant probably used his power to gather this many people in the minute. The Mounties there were taking things out of people’s bags, checking it, then putting it back in startling many people who thought that they were being stealed from.

We froze and began debating who would be the one to carry the gold and files. In the end we decided to put everything in Christina’s bag (basically sacrificing one person). We went in the following order: Jerry, Rachel, Emily, Ada, Ronald, Chelsea, Christina, Angela, Brant, me, Cynthia, and Curtis.

Jerry went first. He barely made it through the check in thanks to his obsession with killing first and talking later. Rachel does not submit so easily either.

“Why should I allow you to search me?” she demanded

“Sir, it’s just a simple check of the bag following standard procedure. If you're uncomfortable, I can have a female officer do so instead” the Mountie replied.

A female Mountie comes.

“What gives you the right to search me??!!” Rachel snapped with an anguish tone.

They continued to bicker and Rachel somehow got past. Next up was Emily. She, like the first two, could not go through without a fight.

“Why would I let you search me?!” she exclaimed.

“Ma’am, as we’ve said before, it’s just standard procedure.” the Mountie replied looking exhausted.

Then it was Ada. She as well wouldn’t go without complaining.

“It’s just standard procedure for god’s sake?!” the Mountie blurred being extremely impatient with our group.

Finally, the Mountie snapped and forced searched Ronald and Chelsea. When it was Christina’s turn, she obviously could not go down without a fight like the other 2 because she was the one carrying the “ticking time bombs” (the files and gold). At the critical moment, Rachel pressed the detonator and a loud explosion shook the whole mountain.

“STAY WHERE YOU ARE!!!!!” shouted one Mountie.

“DO NOT MOVE AND STAY PUT!!!” another yelled “STAY WHERE YOU ARE I REPEAT STAY DO NOT MOVE!!!” cried the Mountie At that moment, we all bolted for either side of the pass either choosing to stay or leave.

A humongous avalanche faster than lightning tumbled and crashed down towards us. If you dared to look up, you would see the chilling white snow swallowing the sky whole. As if time itself froze, the snow hung in the air creating a dazzling sight to behold. That is, if you aren’t already overwhelmed and buried alive. Scream and cry as you may, no one would be able to help you out of that dreadful situation. If the snow were ever to be cleared, they would find nothing but a field of white bones and perhaps a few shiny bits of gold lying here and there indicating your achievements, existence and the catastrophic day where the tragic fate of many were gambled and left for destiny to decide. {THE END} EPILOGUE

The distant gleaming sun casted a rosy hue across the clear blue sky. A girl with hair as black as the night sat on a small ledge overlooking a petite town. She wore a royal violet colored hooded cloak with a pair of tight laced boots. The warm gentle breeze brushed past the little girl’s face blowing her flowing hair away. She lifted her arm and stretched. It was on days like this when she thought of her amusing adventures. She looked down at the jingling pure gold bracelet wrapped around her wrist.

“I wonder how those crazy guys are doing right now.” she thought “They're probably off somewhere shooting and bombing people.” she smiled at the thought. It had already been well over a year since their last encounter. The little girl had unknowingly grown a fondness to them over their months of travel and adventures together. She had always lived a life of solitude and was quite unfamiliar with the sudden loud and noisy environment. However now that she’s back to her old life. She couldn’t help but miss having a bit of ruckus around here and there.

The girl stood up.

“Well, there’s no use in sitting around guessing. It’s about time I go and see what they’re up to.” she declared as she slowly began walking north. Her shadow became smaller and smaller until she was nothing more than a speck of dust in the distance fading away into the background. ...

Monday, November 2 I wake up, and the sun is high. It seems to be noon. There are a few people already up, and the rest of us wake up within 15 minutes. The Native AMerican looks at us with his watchful and piercing brown eyes, and then he speaks. “I didn’t want to wake you. You were so tired, so I let you sleep.”

Colena, never eloquent, blurts out “where are we?”.

The man speaks again. “You’re in my home. A cave on the mountain nearby. This is where I live. I know it’s not much, but this makes me happy.”

Colena speaks again. “Why were you chased last night?”

“They wanted to rob me. They chased me for miles just for the few possessions under my name, items so scant they fit in my pockets. They wanted to rob me just like they did your Barnabus, and so many others.”

Colena is shocked. “How do you know about Barnabus.”

“I saw. I saw them shoot him. I saw you see his dead body. I saw you do nothing about it, and I saw some of you possessed by greed for gold. Really, I shouldn’t be surprised. Why else did you come here? Greed is the only answer. GOld means nothing to anyone except the rich.”

Colena says “I came here for the adventure.”

“Right, sure.”

Emily tells Colena to be quiet and asks “could I have some directions to Chilkoot Pass please?”

“Sure. Follow the path. Turn left for every fork in the road. When you come to the fourth fork, turn right. Turn left on the next fork and right on every other one. You should be at Chilkoot Pass if you follow that. If you get it wrong, it’s possible you’ll end up in the clutches of the gangs.”

“OK, thank you.”

We left after 15 more minutes.

As we walk to Dawson City, we pass the graveyard. There are four coffins, currently open. Three of them are the people we shot when they offered the criminals for protection trade. One is a mountie with a bullet hole in his swollen shoulder, probably the one Curtis shot. Four gravediggers are digging a pit for them to rest in, and an old pastor seems to be praying for them.

He has his hand on a Bible. We pass, and come to the place the mounties like to tie their horses: outside of the social house.

There’s barely anyone in the social house, and there’s only one horse tied to the post. Which probably means all the other mounties are out in force, trying to catch us in the forest.

We enter the social house, where a man is playing ragtime (terribly!). He seems to play the same tune over and over again. I order my usual sandwich and water, and we sit down. Trying to alleviate us from the horrors of his bad music, I go over and ask him to play Turkish March.

“Sure!” He responds. “Just put some money in that jar.”

I put 5 dollars in.

He stares at the bill in shock, then plays the same tune. “Thank ya!”.

I don’t take the bill out. We’re already wanted by the law.

After a little while more, we pay our bill and leave.

Colena proposes we knock on the doors of the homes to find out what happened. The first 12 are empty, but on the thirteenth knock, a woman comes to the door. “Hi, how may I help?”.

Colena starts. “We’d like to know what happened to the mountie’s horses.”

“Oh. Don’t you know?”

“No?” “Oh. They went to hunt for a gang named Wagner’s Children. Scary, those bandits are. Shot up all the people you saw in the graveyard coming in. I hear they’re Vikings from Norway, hoping to die in combat so they can ascend to Valhalla (everyone in the back stifles a laugh). Dangerous people. They’ve got a $20 000 price on their head for the whole group, but everyone’s fleeing from them. Gosh, I hope my Billy comes back (she starts crying). Oh, brave Billy! Always putting others before himself.”

I hand her a handkerchief, we pray for Billy and we bid her farewell.

I guess we have the power to grant her prayer. Oh, I don’t even know her name!

Colena decides to go to the mountie’s office in town, to ask them what the scoop is. The main group decides to come through the front door, and Rachael, Colena, Curtis and Jerry sneak through the window. We walk in to a receptionist scribbling on a newspaper. He’s the thinnest mountie I’ve ever seen, and short too. Colena and Rachael are only 16, and they would tower about him. He has gold hair, and his moustache, strangely black, is well proportioned to his height. Behind him, Colena sneaks through, or, more accurately, phases through the window like she’s a shadow. Jerry silently makes his way up, and so does Rachael. Curtis obviously hits his foot on something outside of the window, and reaches his hand down to catch it before he climbs through the window.

The officer looks at us, looks confused and then speaks. “Hi! I’m Duey. How may I help you? I’m really excited to help you. I’ve been a mountie for three weeks only, and I want to prove myself!”

Ada starts our conversation in a brusque manner. “You can’t really help us.”

Duey frowns. “That’s sad. Maybe you can help me? What is ‘ 40 tied, two to win?’”

“A deuce.” says Emily.

“How do you spell ‘deuce’? One ‘O’ or 2 ‘O’s?”

Emily sighs. “There are no ‘O’s! It’s spelled D-E-U-C-E!” Duey is just as confused as before. “But it only works with 2 ‘O’s!” He scribbles something on his paper. D-O-O-C-.

He doesn’t have time to write the “O’, as an arrow penetrates through his brain with a twack. Colena smiles at us guiltily, bow in hand.

We file through the receptionist’s desk to see if we can get anything useful, but aside from half-completed, horribly misspelled crosswords, there is really nothing. We sift through the lockers, but there’s also nothing of worth, except a few photos, some of family, some of friends, some of a city, and some NO. We march into another office, one that is spookily clean. There’s no dust anywhere. Everything is neatly labeled and stacked impeccably. The nameplate says “Lieutenant Mercer, Royal Canadian Mounted Police Division M”. He has files on a lot of criminals, the Cliffton Gang, and the state of Michigan. We look into that folder, and it’s not about the state. It’s about Conrad Holst Michigan of Wagner & Assorted Children. Comrade to me.

Colena sighs. “At least they got it right this time.”

The whole folder is a collection of every letter Mercer has received from Comrade. The conversation, spanning 3 years, details Comrade’s proposition to Mercer that they create their own gold rush by strategically placing a few chunks of gold, getting a few people to go over, and starting a gold rush. Wagner & Assorted Children places an order for an incredible 127 928 acres of unproductive land in the Yukon. A year later, George Carmark and Skookum Kim found gold in the Yukon. Because of the ensing stampede, Comrade and Mercer sold 89 029 of their 127 928 acres for the sum of $2.8 million! They sell the

remaining 38 899 acres for $1.7 million, and they split it in two. Then, Comrade tells Mercer he wants out of the operation, and Mercer warns that he has every piece of mail and every telegram Comrade ever sent him. Mercer threatens to financial ruin Comrade and land him in jail. Comrade leaves the enterprise anyways, and Mercer submits evidence to RCMP Headquarters in Ottawa. Comrade is investigated, and shot dead when he flees police. Which is the end.

Jocelyn then calls out “hey, the floor board seems to be hollow.” We come over, and Jerry tries to split it open. It doesn’t budge.

Curtis uses his bayonet to stab the floor. Also no luck. Ada pushes Curtis aside and easily rips the floorboards apart. Curtis hits Ada, and Ada, full of adrenaline from that, doesn’t even feel much as she hits Curtis in the stomach and sends him flying to the other side of the room.

Dang.

Inside, there are rounds of a massive caliber. The box labels them as “50 Caliber, High Velocity Revolver Rounds”. The pistol case is also here, but the pistol is gone. Presumably inside of Lieutenant Mercer’s holster right now, in an attempt to shoot us.

There’s also a 3 digit safe. I immediately sit down and attempt every possible combination.

000 - Incorrect 001 - Incorrect 002 - Incorrect Ronald starts searching through files to find the passcode 003 - Incorrect 004 - Incorrect 005 - Incorrect 006 - Incorrect 007 - Incorrect “Isn’t Gold AU in the periodic table?”

008 - Incorrect “Yes.” 009 - Incorrect “I’ve got it! Try 079.”

079 - The safe door swings open.

Inside, wrapped in a cloth, is an immensely heavy lump. We open it up, and inside, is Barnabus’ gold.

We swiftly exit the building and walk out of town. Everyone is talking about “Wagner’s Sons” and their “massacres”, but no one ever recognized us. Along the way, we decide to keep to the road but go back toward the forest whenever we hear a noise or someone feels uncomfortable.

Tuesday, November 3 - uneventful Wednesday, November 4 - uneventful Thursday, November 5 - uneventful Friday, November 6 - uneventful Saturday, November 7 - uneventful

Sunday, November 8 - uneventful Monday, November 9 Barnabus’ gold and the incriminating file is transferred to Emily’s backpack. Christina is picked to wear it because of her ability to talk through most things.

Tuesday, November 10 While on watch, Emily reports that RCMP officers passed us during the night.

Wednesday, November 11 Today, we reached the base of Chilkoot Pass. Jerry sets down his bomb and covers it with snow. Rachael ties a wire to it and slowly unspools it as we climb to the top, Jerry pushing snow over it. No one really seems to notice. The veteran prospectors have already learned not to ask questions. The newcomers are awed with nature, and genuinely don’t notice. One veteran prospector asks us though, and we reply “We’re part of the Canadian Geological Survey. We’re assessing the risk of an avalanche based on the density and mass of snow and the amount of electric cur-” “Ok I get it. You can stop now.”

When we finally get to the top of the mountain, we see many RCMP officers patrolling the pass. They have their bayonets fixed and point them at everyone who the mounties frisk. A man in a lieutenant’s uniform glares at everyone, with a huge revolver loaded and in his holster. We slowly inch forward, but I’d trust we can get through. Emily added a waterproof compartment to her backpack, and we put Barnabus’ gold and the file there. An officer takes three chunks of gold out of someone’s backpack, examines them, and puts them back. The man breathes a sigh of relief.

Jerry is first. A policeman tells him that “you will be searched for security purposes. Someone has stolen gold from another, and we are just checking to make sure you don’t have it.” Jerry replies “no.” The man, who has clearly gotten that answer before, just sighs, “Sir, it’s just a routine inspection.” Two mounties grab him. Jerry asks for the man’s warrant, and the man, beaten, allows him through.

Ronald is much the same.

Emily asks for the woman who searched her to provide a reason. The woman frowns and says “right yes. Lieutenant Mercer never really gave us a good reason.” And she starts to converse with Lieutenant Mercer, who talks in agitated tones.

Chelsea, Rachael and Ada are waved through much the same. The guards are clearly frustrated, and the gig is up when Chrstina gets in line.

“Ma’am, you will be searched for stolen property.” And Christina says “noooo.” as Rachael hits her button.

“Why?” asks the exasperated man.

The electric signal is taking a while.

“Because...uh, my baby is in the back!”.

This is nerve racking.

“Your baby is in the back of your backpack. But whe-”.

BOOM. Jerry’s bomb goes off. But it’s not the only thing that goes off. A mountain leading onto the pass shakes. Then, the snow on the top of the mountain wobbles, and begins to fall towards the pass. Everyone screams and charges down the pass. The mounties attempt to stop them, yelling “Please, stop! There will be no harm to you!”. They may as well have saved their breath for running. Their words have no effect on the crowd. The guards then start running, and only about half of them make it before the rest are swallowed by a wall of white, which is now thundering down the mountain, towards the fleeing crowd at a

dangerously fast pace. Behind me, there are screams as people are swallowed by the endless white. It peters out just around 20 meters from me.

None of my group seems to have been swallowed.

Whew.

Epilogue We divided up Barnabus’ gold into equal parts. It weighed in at 14 kilograms, 443 grams, which, curiously, is divisible by 13.

Each person got 1 kilogram, 111 grams of gold. The 3 gold chunks I got weighed in at 628 grams, 1 kilogram, 829 grams and 2 kilograms, 324 grams. I sold all of it, but not at the Yukon Gold Exchange. I’d heard about the people murdered there for their gold. Instead, I took a train back to Chicago. Because of the Gold Standard, paper money was backed by gold, it was also possible for me to trade gold in for money, which I did, for $4279.80. Then, I went back to my architectural job. I’d never considered leaving it. It paid well and it came with a pension and medical insurance, way ahead of its time.

Honourable Mention Reese's Puffs (formerly Reese's Peanut Butter Puffs), were invented in May of 1994, by General Mills.

I have no idea what happened to the fugitive, because Margaret got really sick for a few days and Dad and I had to stay with her at the hospital in town. The doctor said it was a really bad fever and was probably caused by too much stress and not enough sleep. I stayed at the hospital for a week or so. But eventually her fever died and we got to go back to plot 199 again. We did a few more days of gold searching with the others and I was really lucky. I found 4 entire golden nuggets! The smallest one was the size of my thumb, and the biggest one was even bigger than my hand! Dad found two and Margaret had to rest in the tent because dad made her. I was so happy I jumped with joy. “We’re rich! We’re rich! When we get back home we’re going to be rich!” I shouted gleefully. Someone looking for gold in the river told me to shush. I hurried back to the tent to tell Margaret the great news. We could probably buy a new house with our gold or at least upgrade our old one, and we would be able to go to an actual school! That night I went to bed really late, because Margaret and I kept chatting about all the things we would get when we’re rich. Like our own room, pretty wallpaper, a place to shower, and all that kind of fancy stuff. We finally drifted off to sleep somewhere around midnight. “Hey, hey! Grace wake up! We have to leave!” dad’s voice woke me up. “Five more minutes.” I mumbled. “No time for that! We have to leave now!” he called again. I groaned and flipped onto my side. “Grace! Get up! We need to leave! They’re coming!”. I should’ve realized dad was saying either the people who lent Conrad money or the mounties were coming to take away our plot. But I was too sleepy for my brain to work properly. I’m assuming I fell back asleep after that. I feel bad thinking back on it. My dad could’ve just aggressively woken me up, but instead he probably had to carry me. The next thing I knew, we weren’t in our plot anymore. Margaret filled me in on everything. How the bad people were coming to take us away, and how someone led us to safety. I think I had a really bad fever, because my memories were kinda fuzzy after that. I was asleep for most of the day. and when I wasn’t, I was lying in the wagon someone in our group generously lent us. Poor dad had to drag me around all day.

Chicago, 1962 Christina Ye

I had met my friends, my teammates, only a few times after the destruction of Chilkoot.

Once, to give them a small amount of gold from the large nugget I now kept. Once, to say hello. It occurred to me that I got to say hello, but I never got to say goodbye.

I rest on my bed, savoring my final moments before it was all over. The gold I had collected was never touched, and lay resting in a plaque across my room. I stared at it, and it made me remember everything we had. Bittersweet memories flooded my old and weak brain. My hands feel the oddness of my wrinkled skin as I glide over a single scar left from 96’. I had told my story to everyone in town, you know. They never believed me. “Celaena, we know that didn’t happen!” It made me laugh, the incompetence that mankind had to imagine.

I’ll drift away peacefully, a warrior and a blessing. I’m sure everyone will remember me, even Bree, who I exchanged letters with every week until I couldn’t write.

My eyes wanted to close, and I stopped fighting. Slowly, my eyelids shut for the last time as I drifted into darkness. My time came to an end while the sweet melody of blues music hummed in my ears, and while my hands ran through my hair that never lost it’s blackness.

Goodbye, I croaked.

I imagined they all said goodbye back.

Out with a Bang Christina Ye

Smoke is everywhere. Chaos is an understatement for our situation, but we seem to be relatively calm. Around us, a ring of ash and fire is ablaze, guarding us from the men around us. The mounties are shouting, their leader yelling commands to fall back and collect the bodies of their fallen men. Sure enough, that’s exactly what they did, and soon their footsteps got further and further until we could barely hear them.

It was getting harder to breathe inside our camp, and I was constantly coughing as Emily tried to usher everyone out. Despite her obvious reasoning, four of us stayed behind to get and collect the remains of the tent. Jerry, Rachel, Colena and I made our last efforts to check for anything strange before we got too far behind Emily and the others. I checked the tents and grabbed anything we might need, while the others inspected any dead bodies to find they were all taken by the mounties. I knew I had to go get my own gold nugget, and took it from my tent. It slid into the front pocket of my bag and I continued on. In one of the tents, the fugitive was hiding under the blankets. He said a quick, “Thank you,” and then dashed out the back, where the rest of the group was.

Colena, angered and upset, went straight after the man without a second thought. I admit that she was getting a little crazy, but weren’t we all? After we called the camp clear and Rachael had collected her remaining explosives, the smoke had finally started to wither away. It wasn’t completely gone, though, so we had to run through a short wall of smoke. It made all of us cough, and our faces were almost completely gray. Our ashen faces might have made it look like we were hurt, but everyone was fine and we started off towards the others. It wasn’t dawn yet, and maybe only fifteen minutes since the explosion.

The three of us were far off from the others, and it was going to take more than half an hour to catch up to them. We walked at a leisurely pace, and wiped the dust off of our hair and cheeks to look less abnormal. We weren’t clean at all, but it was all we could do until we could go somewhere to shower. Rachael clutched all her explosives like she was cradling a baby. It’s strange, but I don’t blame her- she had spent over a week creating them. Jerry looked frustrated and kept a steady face as we trudged along the forest path. Nobody said anything, because we were all exhausted and I don’t think anyone wanted to talk anyways.

Our calculations were a little bit off, and after around forty minutes we began to hear the voices of our crew in the distance. After a little bit of jogging to catch up, we met the rear end of our pack within five minutes. We noticed immediately that the fugitive was at the front of the pack, guiding everyone. Emily said he seemed to know his way around the forest, and offered to guide us after she almost made a wrong turn. It was around three in the morning, still dark but starting to move into a more navy colour. It was awfully quiet, and minimal sentences were exchanged just to ask basic questions.

No one argued as the man made lefts and rights, and we trusted his directions, even if we didn’t trust himself. I didn’t really know exactly where we were going, but the goal was to find shelter. Everyone was kind of lost, as we had just watched our home for almost six weeks disintegrate and come to an end.

The camp itself didn’t hold much significance emotionally, but it was a mostly safe place.

We had developed adequate sanity and safety measures in the past weeks, and everything had become a routine. There was a certain consistency that it had, which you couldn’t get from constantly being on the run. Conrad had warned us at Last Hope that we would barely

get shelter once we arrived at Chilkoot, and a lot of it had been spent on the run anyways.

Our risk-and-no-rest lifestyle would probably commence again, now that we were on the road.

After about an hour of navigating through thick pine trees and prickly bushes, we approached what seemed to be a small mountain. At the base lay a cave, which looked empty from the outside because nothing was in the entrance.

The native explained to us that he stayed here for a couple months a year, during hunting season. He was going to leave soon, but he would repay us by allowing us a day’s rest and then parting ways. No one disagreed, and we spent a couple of minutes getting blankets and stuff ready so we could sleep for the rest of the night. It was barely sunrise, so we might be able to spare around three-ish hours of sleep. Even if it wasn’t enough, the idea of sleep was enough to coax us into bed.

When we wake up, it is almost noon. This news greets some of us with worry; we hadn’t expected to sleep for so long. The native said he wanted to let us rest, because we had been so tired. It takes me a little while to realise where we are, since I had expected to wake up at camp. I assumed everyone else had similar thoughts, because there was a long pause before we started talking again.

Emily started to ask a question about why he chose to hunt here, to which he replied, “Ah, my family has been here for generations.” It occurred to me then that he must know something about Dawson if he’s been here for so long, and I blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Do you happen to know anything about Barnabus?”

Surprisingly, his answer was yes, and they had been friends for several years. “That’s why you disappointed me when you left his dead body in his tent. No burial, no funeral, no nothing.” His head hung low, in remembrance of his friend.

Suddenly, things started to come into view. Ada and Ronald, who were burying a body at camp, told us there was somebody watching. Five nights ago, when many of us were left bruised and wounded, there was somebody watching. Was the fugitive that person?

We continued to ask him questions about what he knew of Barnabus. “Why would they want to kill him?” Rachael asked, curious.

“Why, the same reason they were chasing you last night. The same reason they shot you countless times, the same reason they tried to kill me.” He paused, malice growing in his voice, before finishing. “Greed. Greed is the reason for all of this, the destruction of a forest once so beautiful. Does it surprise you, that much greed? Gold is worth nothing but money, and to get it the destroyed my homeland. I lived here once, you know? It was beautiful, blooming with wildlife, and forever peaceful,” he said. It was hard to imagine a forest so empty and destroyed that way. Determined, he continued, “It was our’s and nature's, until Michigan came. He paid a small lump sum to the few greedy and poisoned minds that existed while I was a child, and claimed the land his.”

Conrad? He did this? His crimes and secrets seemed to get worse and worse as we uncovered more, little by little. The native sighed, and said tiredly, “Listen. You have been kinder than most to me, even if not kind at all. For your hospitality, I will give you directions on how to return to town for you.”

He did not use a map, but instead described our pathway off the top of his head. He was obviously well acquainted with this area, and it made me wonder what it looked like so many years ago. We received direction on how to return to Dawson, as well as Chilkoot. He also warned us of where the Clifton Gang resided, and that we needed to steer clear. I

remembered the picture of the gang leader at the front of town, and wondered where he was now.

Our group didn’t immediately decide what the next step was going to be, so we narrowed it down to three options. Find Barnabus’ gold, head straight back to Chilkoot, or pursue the Clifton gang. It wasn’t that hard to come to a conclusion, and our next step was to head to Dawson to hunt down the giant nugget of gold.

We bade farewell to the native and made our way back into town. Since we had been sleeping so long, there was barely any time to lose. The only thing that greeted our entrance was the sign, “Welcome to Dawson City!” accompanied by the badly drawn faces of Curtis and Jerry. The town had started to become a bit quieter, after most of the prospectors were either killed or gone before the winter season was over.

Now, new people were being buried. Random and plenty of prospectors sat upright in coffins, still and unmoving. As we made our way to the main part of Dawson, the two men in suits passed by us. The younger and talkative one seemed to rant about how the past couple weeks didn’t take the expected course. “It’s such a damn shame! The law says it’s ours, and they know it as much as us. They just want to shoot it up, and it’s such a damn shame!” The other man agreed with a small nod, and they continued walking.

We were lucky enough not to be caught, and got to the middle of town. Here, everything looked as usual. The social house, small shops and the houses of several mounties remained the same, and nothing significant had changed. It was only until we approached the stables of the mounties’ horses that we realised they were all gone. A stable with 12 now only remained with two horses, and the stables doors were wide open like someone was in a rush and didn’t have time to close them. It was easy to imagine where all of the mounties had gone, because we had caused so much havoc that it would only be strange if they didn’t notice.

Colena was absolutely set on what the next phase of our plan would be, and demanded we’d agree. Our opinions would come later anyways, so there was no pain in trying what she wanted. Colena proposed that we should knock on all the mounties’ doors and see if they had any information. Almost all of them were gone, and by the time we had reached the last door I was convinced there was no hope left.

There was a man, however, but he was old and didn’t seem like an active mountie. He didn’t tell us much about himself, but I’m pretty sure he was retired. Even so, he was able to supply us with some amount of information. Though it wasn’t much, he directed us to the mountie station and told us they would be best if we needed any help.

Despite his advice, most of us wanted to check out the social house and converse with the bartenders before heading over to the station. It was our original plan, so we decided to stay by it. The social house was flowing as usual. People were drinking, the Bartenders were busy but conversational, and it was definitely a gossip hotspot. We took a seat at our usual table, reminding me of simpler times when we did not yet know about Conrad’s criminal activity.

Eavesdropping here was an easy task, because everyone was too drunk or too excited to care about who overheard them. A couple metres away, two men were talking about gold.

“I swear man, I’ve never seen gold that big!”

“Nonsense. If anything, it’s probably fake, and it’s definitely why they killed him. I’m never believing it was really the size of his fist!”

“It’s a shame he couldn’t get away. Imagine what he could do with all that gold…” The shorter out of the two said, looking mesmerized. It was easy to tell he was someone extremely gullible, and a sole personality trait of gold. The taller one didn’t seem to be fooled so easily, and doubted everything his partner said.

We all knew they were talking about Barnabus’s gold, and it wasn’t any new news. Bryant, bored, got up and walked over to the piano player. “Can I have Turkish March by Beethoven, please?” he dropped a hefty sum of five dollars into the tip pile and walked away. The piano player said, “Turkish March coming right up!” and continued to play the same obnoxious tune. To be honest, he probably didn’t know how to play any other songs at all.

We stayed seated at our table and proceeded to pick up bits and pieces of different conversations. No one talked about anything but gold, which wasn’t surprising. The two men from before babbled, “I know! It’s they, the government. Canada’s been printing loads of paper cash, and they haven’t been telling us how they got the money to produce it! They back it with gold. It’s gold!” The shorter man smiled, believing his wild conspiracy was correct. “That’s why they steal it!”

This time, the taller man didn’t reply but rolled his eyes and diverted his attention. It was about all we could gather from the social house, and Bryant hadn’t got his “Turkish March” either. Disappointed, we left and embarked towards the station, our last destination. We had all our eggs in one basket, and we needed a miracle.

Once we got to the head of the large building, we split up into two groups. About four or five people snuck around the back of the building to get inside, while the rest of us went in the front as a distraction. I was the leader of the first group, since my abilities to charm were better than the rest.

Our plan was set in action. My group and I went in from the front, and met a man, skinny and short, who called himself “Duey”. He sat on a large dask spread out at the very center of the hall, which blocked out the rest of the building. Two hallways going left and right were behind him, but we couldn’t see anything. On a side note, I wouldn’t proclaim him very smart, but he did like to talk. “How can I help you?” I had no idea. How could he help us? The easy answer is to say, “We need to break in. Can you help us?” but that would make us bigger psychopaths than we already are. Instead, my jaw froze and I said nothing. Duey continued, “Ok, then how can you help me?” he asked, proud of his quick turnaround. Again, we said nothing, and waited for group two to hopefully get what we needed. An awkward silence followed, so I used that time to study my enemy. Well, I don’t really know if Duey is an enemy, or able to be one anyways.

Officer Duey was skinny and short, wore a sweater that was clearly too big for him, and had a skinny moustache that was not trimmed properly. He probably didn’t shave, and the atmosphere of the wild west would probably suit him. Duey is as innocent as a man could get, and started completing his crossword puzzle in the newspaper once it was clear we wouldn’t say anything.

Instead, we were enlisted as his official crossword assistants, and helped his spelling become slightly less horrific. “Hm… What’s this one? It says ‘when a tennis game is tied 40-40.’ I feel like I know it, maybe you guys can help me?”

Bryant promptly volunteered, “Deuce. It’s a deuce.”

“Ah, right! And how do you spell that, kind sir?”

Letter by letter, Bryant spelt it out, “D-E-U-C-E.”

“Great!” We watched as he wrote in the column, “dooce”. Didn’t we just teach him how to spell it? I wasn’t annoyed, but the others repeatedly tried to correct him. He kept on misspelling it, and by the end everyone gave up.

“There’s no ‘O’? Ha, I was convinced there was! Here, let me write it again. D-E-U-C-E. Finally! I know deuce doesn’t have an ‘O’, but ostrich does, right?”

We nod and he writes Ostrich down into the boxes. Duey spells it like this: Ostretch. Close, but not quite right. After a solid three minutes, the other group finally broke in. While Duey was distracted, they gave us a thumbs up from the hallways. Duey, eager that we had finally started to talk, set his newspaper down and said, “Well my friends, I’ve only been a mountie for long, but I’m so excited to-” An arrow stuck through his brain, and he was dead. In the moment, I didn’t think his death was necessary at all, but looking back at it, I can tell you it definitely saved some time. I took a final glance at Duey’s body and led my group into the hallway. At the right, there were just a bunch of lockers. We quickly flipped through them and didn’t discover anything important.

Family photos, day clothes, and pictures of fully nude men and women were all we found.

Weird, but that’s how everything is around here.

After giving a thorough wipe of everything in the left hall, our attention turned to the right.

There was a door, titled “Lieutenant Mercer”. We stepped inside, and it was squeaky clean.

Only the most practical things were there. Stationary, folders, and pens were arranged neatly on his desk and the surrounding shelves. The only personal thing there was his desk tag, which read “Lt. Mercer” and was decorated with silvers and golds. We tried to search through as much as we could, but nothing happened and we were all frustrated. I wanted to give up so badly, and if it weren’t for the thought of the giant gold nugget I would have quit.

As we checked each of the drawers, Ronald found one that was locked, and picked it open with a hairpin. It was a file folder, thick and unappealing. One section in particular was titled, “Michigan”, as in Conrad. Quickly he picked it up and read it for all of us.

The files described a series of messages between Conrad and an individual, but it was quite obvious that the person was the Lieutenant. Around four years ago, Conrad and Mercer agreed to take part in a scandal that involved Dawson city. Their plan was to buy all the land, claim that there was gold, and collect money from the prospectors each year. They went so far as to even purchase real gold to hide in the plots, so people would find it believable. At a certain point, Conrad disagreed and thought fake gold would be more beneficial. Even though it meant all the gold we found wasn’t originally from Dawson, it didn’t matter much to me. Either way, it was still real. The two men messaged each other on a regular basis to update on upcoming prospectors and weekly profits. Things seemed to continue like this for around three years, until Conrad wanted out. The whole thing was too much for him, and soon he wanted nothing to do with it. Mercer, however, refused, and threatened to leak all their exchanges and information if Conrad left.

It was blackmail at its finest, crystal clear to everyone who could read. Conrad wasn’t willing to risk his company and his reputation, and carried on. From there, their relationship was much more strained, and they only communicated the bare minimum. The scandal was still running today, and the entire town still didn’t know. No matter Conrad’s motives were to bring us up to Dawson, I was grateful for the experience. It had changed me, no matter what the circumstance, and that fact made up for however bad the truth was.

Even with that revealed, it mentions nothing about Barnabus’ gold, or any large chunk of gold in particular. It was small progress, but not enough to respike our determination and we still felt defeated.

We took a quick break and everyone sat down in the small but spacious office to take a breath. From beside me, Angela’s foot hit something, making a thumping noise.

As quick as lightning, everybody stood up and went to see what it was. It appeared to be a floor safe. It rose slightly off the floor, but was covered by a matching carpet which disguised it. We had no scissors to cut open the carpet, so we were going to have to use brute force.

The strongest of us went first. Ada and Curtis both attempted to open up the lid, but failed. We were all clamoring and worried, but with a shrug I pushed my way through and opened the lid no problem. Huh. How could it have been so hard for the others?

Curtis glared at me, and for a moment looked like he was going to use his gun. I guess he really wanted to uncover , and was upset when I took the spotlight instead. It was fun, having a little friendly competition, even if it made him want a gun to my head. I smirked to myself, and we continued to uncover the safe.

Angela dusted the top to reveal a dial, and a keyhole. Since we had no keys, the dial was an obvious action and we started searching the room for clues. It was a three digit number code, and it was already hard enough finding information that matched those requirements.

We were starting to get desperate for anything that could open up the safe, and Colena even tried to list off every possible combination.

Ronald, file folder in hand, continued to search through all the documents. In an unlabeled section, he finds a bunch of maps, and a periodic table. “Gold! Gold is element 79.” In a hurry, everyone turns to the safe as we drill in the numbers “097” and it swings open. We are all slightly relieved, and turn our attention to the things inside. At first glance, two boxes are the most visible. One is filled with bullets, and the other seems to be a case for a revolver.

Carefully, we remove the box of bullets, (which was surprisingly light) and set it aside.

Below, a single gold nugget the size of a fist is covered in cloth. Barnabus’ Gold is finally found.

Everyone is ecstatic, overjoyed that the hunt was finally over. With the gold in hand, we leave the station and Duey behind. It’s the evening, and more people flow into the social house. It’s the only building that is fully awake, while the rest of the stores have started to calm down. We are more tired than usual, because today went on a path nobody expected.

The darker night is definitely an advantage, and we manage to get out of Dawson without getting caught.

At the very end of town, we pass the two men in suits once again. At first, they didn’t appear threatening, and they were engaged in a conversation, but the older one noticed. He glared at Cynthia, and looked as if he remembered something. Out of pure luck, there was a horse nearby. Cynthia gave it a solid slap and sent it whinnying and yelling, diverting everyone’s attention. It was enough for us to get away before the man found out about any more.

It was an extremely smart move, and one that saved our lives. Those men are dangerous, and we could have been terribly outmatched if we’d fought them then. Plus, the entire town would know who we were and our cover would be blown.

As my breathing steadied, we made our way into a small area in the forest and talked about our plans. It was about 8:00 PM, so we were quiet and made sure to be alert in case anybody saw us. The next step was to trek Chilkoot. We all knew it was coming, but it felt like

everything went by so quickly. The thought of returning to the snowy pass darkened all our moods, so we set up camp earlier and got good rest for tomorrow. Somebody had to keep watch, and luckily Emily volunteered herself. I was thankful for that, and we all called it a night and disappeared behind our tents. The moment I laid down, I fell asleep.

The path to home began. It was going to be the last day we were together, possibly forever. We had occasional conversations here and there about what we would do one we officially arrived at Chilkoot, but it was mostly a silent day. All of my stuff was packed into a backpack, and anything I didn’t need was burned the night before. I was excited to head home, but to be honest, I didn’t and I still don’t know where home is.

Is Fort Severn really my home? The definition of “home” is a place where someone lives permanently, as a member of a family or household. I have no family there anyway, and do I really want to live there for the rest of my life? My answer came so quickly it made a pang of guilt rise up in my chest. After all, I had lived there for all my life, and it wasn’t going to be easy despite all the bad memories.

I knew I couldn’t remain at Severn. I had to say no to the part of me who tried to cling on, even if I knew it would destroy me to go back. My now dead parents had abused me since I was four, and I had hid myself from reality ever since. I knew Bree would be left behind, but she would want me to do this. Besides, it’s not worth risking the chance to restart for a person, right? Maybe I could write to her. Maybe she’ll come visit or even move with me, but I do know one thing: I’m not going back. ****** We had reached the pass. The climate was getting colder now, and I was wearing multiple coats to shield from the snow. Everything seemed to be completely normal, and the flow of prospectors coming in and out did not stop. That was until we got to the entrance to Chilkoot, where a long line of prospectors were waiting for something.

They didn’t look like they wanted to be waiting, though, and most of them had an annoyed expression on their faces. We had no idea what was going on, and sent one person to see if there was danger, and they came back discouraged and somber.

Apparently, mounties were blocking Chilkoot’s entrance with a barricade, and you could only pass if they checked your bags and you were clear. They weren’t taking gold or anything, but you had to comply. It all made sense, and it was obvious what they were trying to do.

We had expected Mercer to realise the gold was missing, since we hadn’t exactly cleaned up, but we didn’t know the measures he would tak could be so punishing. There was almost nothing we could do now. For a while, we stood next to a group of pine trees and just thought. Some of us thought about ways we could possibly escape, but I thought, What if we’re stuck here forever? It’s certainly not what I would desire for my fate, yet there is no use of ruling out that possibility. For a moment, I was positive it would end, but Emily saved the day.

“Wait! While I was fortifying the camp, I reused some of our backpacks to make stronger ones. I have one in my bag- there is a secret compartment at the bottom that can be used to store Barnabus’ gold. Here, look.” She held out the bag for all of us to see, but the question begged to ask. Who was going to take the fall?

We all glanced at each other, and no one was willing. Something sparked inside of me and I blurted, “I’ll do it. I have a good chance of getting through anyways since I’m good at convincing people.” Everyone agreed, and Emily handed the pack over to me. If I do fail, It’ll

be my final act of defiance to the world. Something to show them I’m not the monster of greed I used to be.

We put the large gold nugget in the compartment at the bottom of the back, which had a zipper so thin it blended in and made it almost invisible. The gold made the bag too heavy, and we desperately shoved in a bunch of other heavy objects to make it seem like it wasn’t because we were hiding anything. Colena also decided to put the file folder we had from the station into my bag. All our chances were bet onto one person- me. If I give the guard a seducing smile, It’s all going to be over, right?

We had an arranged order where I was in the middle, Jerry went first and Colena last. As we approached the line, I was starting to get more and more nervous. Sweat formed on my palms, my face started to swell, but I knew I needed to calm down. One wrong move could get us dead.

Slowly, the line got shorter and shorter until it was our turn. I had no idea what my teammates were going to do. Their unpredictability is lethal, yet somehow always has a way of working out. Let me give you a quick rundown of how things went.

Jerry, who went first, did not comply.

Rachel, who went second, did not comply.

Emily, who went third, did not comply.

Ada, who went fourth, did not comply.

Ronald, who went fifth, did not comply.

Chelsea, who went sixth, did not comply.

Somehow, they all managed to get through.

The mounties, however, were becoming more and more agitated and suspicious. Not only at us, but at the Lieutenant. It seems as if he didn’t tell them the whole story, because they were awfully confused and didn’t want to be searching us, either. I whisper to myself over and over again, It’s going to be okay. But for not one moment did I feel that way.

“Next!” the mountie yelled, annoyed and frustrated.

“Um, hi.”

He looked at me skeptically, cocking an eyebrow. “Hello to you, ma’am. I’m sorry to let you know that we have to search you. Don’t worry, we won’t take any of your valuables, we’re just looking for something quite… particular. We have reason to believe a group of criminals might be on the run with it,” “No.” I said, confidently, but trembling on the inside.

“Pardon me?”

“No, I don’t feel comfortable.” That little trick worked, and made him understand for a second before he spoke again.

“I’m sorry miss, but I’m just going to-” The mountie continued to speak, but I tuned the volume of his voice out and looked ahead at Rachael, who was giving us all a signal. She was smiling, always that same smile…

Rachael and her bombs. Bombs and Rachael. They also seem to fit so well together, don’t they? I knew this would be goodbye for most of us, and some who were too far back in line may be stuck forever if they didn’t run on the right beat. Rachael was right; it was what had to be done if any of us were to live.

My last task was to delay the mountie until the right moment. He was still speaking, and just finished his sentence. “Miss, Look. I don’t want to be here as much as you do. But unless you have a solid reason not to comply, I’m afraid I can’t let you go.”

Think fast, think fast. Anything, anything. I did not think at all, and instead I blurted, “I have a child.”

“What? Miss, what is that suppose to-” The bombs clicked in. The entirety of Chilkoot was exploding, rocks shifting positions and snow tumbling down all at once. I broke off into a run, sprinting down the south side of Chilkoot. Home is almost here, I thought. You’re almost there.

All the memories of the past couple months flashed through me. The adventure, the happiness, the betrayal. We were a happy group of people, even if we were only together for a short while. It was fun. If I never see you again, I hope you think it was fun, too. Those were my last thoughts before I leapt onto the rock below and cast a final glance backwards at the few of my teammates who decided to stay.

It was the end, I guess.

Colena Shan 1896

OUT WITH A BANG (AS USUAL DONE BY RACHAEL) Oh yes, finally we get to go home after a lot of chaos, murdering (done by me, of course), blowing mountains up (SPOILER ALERT) and blocking the Chilkoot Trail, and teaching a new recruit of the Mounties how to spell “Deuce”.

Sometime earlier, I had found three gold nuggets and had it in my pockets at the moment, wondering what on earth I should do with them. I’ll decide later. Let me tell you the final adventure.

*Ahem* Our camp had just been blown up by Rachael. Emily muttered, “Follow me, guys!” as she led the way towards the forest. Me, Rachael, Jerry and Christina (I think?!) ignored her, instead, Christina and I headed toward the tents, and we found the guy we had sheltered there, underneath a pile of blankets.

“Well…I’m off,” he muttered and he got up, and headed in the direction of Emily and the people who had followed her.

I, very suspicious of everyone that wasn’t working for Wagner’s and Assorted Children, took out my bow and followed him; however, he was way too fast for me to stop and shoot (no, this guy is not Usain Bolt).

*** A short while later, I had joined Emily’s group. Jerry, Christina and Rachael were also there. The guy I was chasing had gone ahead a little bit, and he came back, saying, “No, we can’t go that way…there are people there…Follow me, I know where to go.”

With nothing better to do, we followed him. Our guide led us through the forest, and on the way, I spotted a large pile of rocks. It was huge.

Our guide showed us a small crack in a tree (I don’t really remember) and told us to go in. We headed inside, and saw some food, water, and some blankets.

“Sleep now,” our guide growled. I have no idea why, but I did. We all got healed—sort of.

The next morning, we decided to speak to our guide. He was showing signs of hating us.

“I don’t like how some of your people came and destroyed our lands……I’ve been watching you and I don’t like you…” he said.

“Er…why…why do you hate us?” Emily asked.

“I’ve been watching you for a while…”

“Do you know Barnabus?” Christina asked.

“Oh yes,” growled the man. “And I don’t like how you left him, unburied.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“I’ve been watching you, and the people who killed Barnabus too.”

He went on to explain that the Mounties were hunting people and stealing gold. “…and you’re like the lot of them, up here for gold, you greedy idiots,” he said.

“I didn’t come here because I was greedy. I came here to seek adventure,” I said.

I got the sense this guy didn’t really believe me, but he didn’t seem to think I was a liar either.

He told us more about the Mounties that I didn’t really pay attention to.

The next day, we went to Dawson City. I don’t know why, we’re there for the fourth time. We found coffins again, more dead people.

“Let’s go to the Social House,” Emily said, but we didn’t do anything there.

I wanted to find more Mounties to kill, but there weren’t any Mounties in town, so I found a Mountie home, and knocked.

A woman opened the door.

“Hello,” she said. “Oh—sorry, my son—” “We’re looking for Mounties, do you know where they are?” I asked.

“They’re hunting down the Cliffton Gang, and the Children of Wagner,” she said. “But you could always try the HQ. There’s always someone there.”

“Thank you,” I said, and signaling to Bryant to stop muttering, “Can I kill her?”, I headed towards HQ, my companions following me.

“I’m going to sneak in the back,” I said, and Rachael, Jerry, and Curtis followed me.

I was as quiet as a shadow, slipping silently through the window. Rachael and Jerry followed me, less sneakily, but they didn’t make much noise. Curtis slipped through, causing something to fall, but he managed to catch it. We gave him a small nod, and we continued.

“How do you spell ‘deuce’? D-O-O-C-E? Well, I’ve only been here 3 weeks—” Duey said.

Duey was the name of the Mountie Christina was talking to.

“IT’S D-E-U-C-E, YOU IDIOT!” I screamed, then whirled out my bow, and fired an arrow at Duey’s head. It hit him in the face and he died LOL. “VIOLENCE!” I shouted for no reason. Bruh. Everyone started searching the Lieutenant’s office and stuff for gold.

Ronald found a thick file named Michigan. As none of the other files were any names of US States, we figured it was a file for Conrad Michigan. Ronald opened the file, and it showed a lot of crime stuff?—and Conrad and Lieutenant Mercer signing contracts?? I’m not sure, it’s all so confusing.

“Guys, something is hollow here!” Angela cried, jerking a finger at the spot where she felt something hollow.

We checked it out, and I tried to force it open, but it didn’t work. Curtis tried too, but it didn’t work. Christina got impatient and punched Curtis aside, and smashed the wood easily.

We found a rifle-holder, and two boxes.

One held a bunch of gold nuggets.

The second had a big lock on it. There was a 3-digit combination. We started off like idiots: 001, 002, 003, 004, 005…and so on. When we reached 025, Ronald called out, “Wait, look here, it says “Periodic Table of Elements” on this file!”

“AU is gold!” Rachael shouted.

“Gold is Element 79!” I said. “Try 079!”

That worked! Inside the box was Barnabus’s big gold chunk. Ooh. So maybe that so-called criminal we had offered shelter to was telling the truth.

“Let’s take all this stuff,” I suggested. We snuck out of town, and an elderly man glanced at us, then kept on looking back at us and I was sure he was gonna recognize us as Children of Wagner, but Cynthia took care of that by slapping a horse who broke free of the chains that was holding it and causing a scene. When the old man looked back again, we were already gone.

We had decided to return home, most of us anyway.

The next thing we did was vote on whether to continue on the road, which would mean we’d be faster, but there would be more chance on getting caught, or go into the woods, which would mean less chance of getting caught, but we’d go at a much slower pace.

And guess what? 50% of us wished to go on the road. 50% of us wished to go into the woods.

That wasn’t technically possible, since there were 13 of us, but that’s what happened. So we talked it over a bit, and agreed to go on the road when possible, and stick to the woods when we heard footsteps approaching.

Night came, and it was Emily who offered to keep watch while we slept in the woods. Nothing eventful happened, until next morning.

“Guys, last night, I saw some Mounties, they’re definitely looking for us,” Emily said.

“They’re probably already at Chilkoot Pass now.”

Oof. That was great for me. Maybe I could do some killing.

*** Chilkoot Pass came into view. I spotted some 20 Mounties or so at a checkpoint, demanding to see everyone’s bags. Many prospectors were complaining, but the Mounties just said, “Sorry, we’re just looking for something. No, we are not stealing!”

“How do we smuggle the file about Conrad and Mercer and Barnabus’s nugget?” somebody asked.

“Hide it!” I hissed.

“Let’s blow those Mounties up,” Rachael suggested. She and Jerry were lighting fuses on their bombs.

Christina was holding the big nugget and file.

“Let’s go shoot them,” I said.

“Nooooooo,” Bryant said. “We’re gonna get killed.”

“Too bad, you coward,” I spat.

We proceeded in a single file, Jerry going first, Rachael second, Emily third, Ada fourth, Ronald fifth, Chelsea sixth, Christina seventh, Angela eighth, Bryant ninth, Jocelyn tenth, Cynthia eleventh, Curtis twelfth, and I was last.

“Hello,” said one of the Mounties as Jerry reached him. I recognized this Mountie: he was shot

by Jerry and apparently this Mountie did not realize that ☺.

“May I search you?” he asked.

“NO,” said Jerry. Lol, our group was not gonna make the Mounties’ lives any easier ☺.

Eventually, after Jerry was patted down, the Mountie let him pass.

“May I search you, miss?” the Mountie asked Rachael.

“NO,” Rachael said. Ah…this is going well ☺.

“Well why not?”

“What gives you the right to search me!?” Rachael retorted.

Lol. Emily also said no, this was going well.

Ada and Ronald gave the guard a harder time. Ronald was actually searched forcefully, and so was Chelsea, who came after him.

I noticed the fuse on Rachael’s bomb nearly run out.

“Delay them, Christina!” I whispered barely loud enough for her to hear. “*sighs*May I please search you?” said the Mountie.

“Nope,” said Christina.

“Why not?” groaned the Mountie. “We—” Hm…for an explosion that big, I think I’ll need a bigger font—

BOOOOOOOOOM! That’s big enough, right? Alright, snow began to come down…

“AVALANCHE!” I yelled.

I bolted down the trail, heading for home, and saw Rachael following me.

“No-no WAIT!” cried the Mounties. “COME BACK!” I think several people died in those few minutes. Ah well, typical Rachael, blowing up stuff ☺.

Colena Shan 1896

OUT WITH A BANG (AS USUAL DONE BY RACHAEL) Oh yes, finally we get to go home after a lot of chaos, murdering (done by me, of course), blowing mountains up (SPOILER ALERT) and blocking the Chilkoot Trail, and teaching a new recruit of the Mounties how to spell “Deuce”.

Sometime earlier, I had found three gold nuggets and had it in my pockets at the moment, wondering what on earth I should do with them. I’ll decide later. Let me tell you the final adventure.

*Ahem* Our camp had just been blown up by Rachael. Emily muttered, “Follow me, guys!” as she led the way towards the forest. Me, Rachael, Jerry and Christina (I think?!) ignored her, instead, Christina and I headed toward the tents, and we found the guy we had sheltered there, underneath a pile of blankets.

“Well…I’m off,” he muttered and he got up, and headed in the direction of Emily and the people who had followed her.

I, very suspicious of everyone that wasn’t working for Wagner’s and Assorted Children, took out my bow and followed him; however, he was way too fast for me to stop and shoot (no, this guy is not Usain Bolt).

*** A short while later, I had joined Emily’s group. Jerry, Christina and Rachael were also there. The guy I was chasing had gone ahead a little bit, and he came back, saying, “No, we can’t go that way…there are people there…Follow me, I know where to go.”

With nothing better to do, we followed him. Our guide led us through the forest, and on the way, I spotted a large pile of rocks. It was huge.

Our guide showed us a small crack in a tree (I don’t really remember) and told us to go in. We headed inside, and saw some food, water, and some blankets.

“Sleep now,” our guide growled. I have no idea why, but I did. We all got healed—sort of.

The next morning, we decided to speak to our guide. He was showing signs of hating us.

“I don’t like how some of your people came and destroyed our lands……I’ve been watching you and I don’t like you…” he said.

“Er…why…why do you hate us?” Emily asked.

“I’ve been watching you for a while…”

“Do you know Barnabus?” Christina asked.

“Oh yes,” growled the man. “And I don’t like how you left him, unburied.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“I’ve been watching you, and the people who killed Barnabus too.”

He went on to explain that the Mounties were hunting people and stealing gold. “…and you’re like the lot of them, up here for gold, you greedy idiots,” he said.

“I didn’t come here because I was greedy. I came here to seek adventure,” I said.

I got the sense this guy didn’t really believe me, but he didn’t seem to think I was a liar either.

He told us more about the Mounties that I didn’t really pay attention to.

The next day, we went to Dawson City. I don’t know why, we’re there for the fourth time. We found coffins again, more dead people.

“Let’s go to the Social House,” Emily said, but we didn’t do anything there.

I wanted to find more Mounties to kill, but there weren’t any Mounties in town, so I found a Mountie home, and knocked.

A woman opened the door.

“Hello,” she said. “Oh—sorry, my son—” “We’re looking for Mounties, do you know where they are?” I asked.

“They’re hunting down the Cliffton Gang, and the Children of Wagner,” she said. “But you could always try the HQ. There’s always someone there.”

“Thank you,” I said, and signaling to Bryant to stop muttering, “Can I kill her?”, I headed towards HQ, my companions following me.

“I’m going to sneak in the back,” I said, and Rachael, Jerry, and Curtis followed me.

I was as quiet as a shadow, slipping silently through the window. Rachael and Jerry followed me, less sneakily, but they didn’t make much noise. Curtis slipped through, causing something to fall, but he managed to catch it. We gave him a small nod, and we continued.

“How do you spell ‘deuce’? D-O-O-C-E? Well, I’ve only been here 3 weeks—” Duey said.

Duey was the name of the Mountie Christina was talking to.

“IT’S D-E-U-C-E, YOU IDIOT!” I screamed, then whirled out my bow, and fired an arrow at Duey’s head. It hit him in the face and he died LOL. “VIOLENCE!” I shouted for no reason. Bruh. Everyone started searching the Lieutenant’s office and stuff for gold.

Ronald found a thick file named Michigan. As none of the other files were any names of US States, we figured it was a file for Conrad Michigan. Ronald opened the file, and it showed a lot of crime stuff?—and Conrad and Lieutenant Mercer signing contracts?? I’m not sure, it’s all so confusing.

“Guys, something is hollow here!” Angela cried, jerking a finger at the spot where she felt something hollow.

We checked it out, and I tried to force it open, but it didn’t work. Curtis tried too, but it didn’t work. Christina got impatient and punched Curtis aside, and smashed the wood easily.

We found a rifle-holder, and two boxes.

One held a bunch of gold nuggets.

The second had a big lock on it. There was a 3-digit combination. We started off like idiots: 001, 002, 003, 004, 005…and so on. When we reached 025, Ronald called out, “Wait, look here, it says “Periodic Table of Elements” on this file!”

“AU is gold!” Rachael shouted.

“Gold is Element 79!” I said. “Try 079!”

That worked! Inside the box was Barnabus’s big gold chunk. Ooh. So maybe that so-called criminal we had offered shelter to was telling the truth.

“Let’s take all this stuff,” I suggested. We snuck out of town, and an elderly man glanced at us, then kept on looking back at us and I was sure he was gonna recognize us as Children of Wagner, but Cynthia took care of that by slapping a horse who broke free of the chains that was holding it and causing a scene. When the old man looked back again, we were already gone.

We had decided to return home, most of us anyway.

The next thing we did was vote on whether to continue on the road, which would mean we’d be faster, but there would be more chance on getting caught, or go into the woods, which would mean less chance of getting caught, but we’d go at a much slower pace.

And guess what? 50% of us wished to go on the road. 50% of us wished to go into the woods.

That wasn’t technically possible, since there were 13 of us, but that’s what happened. So we talked it over a bit, and agreed to go on the road when possible, and stick to the woods when we heard footsteps approaching.

Night came, and it was Emily who offered to keep watch while we slept in the woods. Nothing eventful happened, until next morning.

“Guys, last night, I saw some Mounties, they’re definitely looking for us,” Emily said.

“They’re probably already at Chilkoot Pass now.”

Oof. That was great for me. Maybe I could do some killing.

*** Chilkoot Pass came into view. I spotted some 20 Mounties or so at a checkpoint, demanding to see everyone’s bags. Many prospectors were complaining, but the Mounties just said, “Sorry, we’re just looking for something. No, we are not stealing!”

“How do we smuggle the file about Conrad and Mercer and Barnabus’s nugget?” somebody asked.

“Hide it!” I hissed.

“Let’s blow those Mounties up,” Rachael suggested. She and Jerry were lighting fuses on their bombs.

Christina was holding the big nugget and file.

“Let’s go shoot them,” I said.

“Nooooooo,” Bryant said. “We’re gonna get killed.”

“Too bad, you coward,” I spat.

We proceeded in a single file, Jerry going first, Rachael second, Emily third, Ada fourth, Ronald fifth, Chelsea sixth, Christina seventh, Angela eighth, Bryant ninth, Jocelyn tenth, Cynthia eleventh, Curtis twelfth, and I was last.

“Hello,” said one of the Mounties as Jerry reached him. I recognized this Mountie: he was shot

by Jerry and apparently this Mountie did not realize that ☺.

“May I search you?” he asked.

“NO,” said Jerry. Lol, our group was not gonna make the Mounties’ lives any easier ☺.

Eventually, after Jerry was patted down, the Mountie let him pass.

“May I search you, miss?” the Mountie asked Rachael.

“NO,” Rachael said. Ah…this is going well ☺.

“Well why not?”

“What gives you the right to search me!?” Rachael retorted.

Lol. Emily also said no, this was going well.

Ada and Ronald gave the guard a harder time. Ronald was actually searched forcefully, and so was Chelsea, who came after him.

I noticed the fuse on Rachael’s bomb nearly run out.

“Delay them, Christina!” I whispered barely loud enough for her to hear. “*sighs*May I please search you?” said the Mountie.

“Nope,” said Christina.

“Why not?” groaned the Mountie. “We—” Hm…for an explosion that big, I think I’ll need a bigger font—

BOOOOOOOOOM! That’s big enough, right? Alright, snow began to come down…

“AVALANCHE!” I yelled.

I bolted down the trail, heading for home, and saw Rachael following me.

“No-no WAIT!” cried the Mounties. “COME BACK!” I think several people died in those few minutes. Ah well, typical Rachael, blowing up stuff ☺.

Cynthia L Ok, so fast-forward a bit, we heard hoofbeats thumping the ground. Turned out that it was the same guys chasing the fugitive we hid, they asked if they could go in our camp, we said no, there were secret bombs planted in the ground, someone detonated them, explosions.

So now our camp was set ablaze, and smoke was in the air. Dogs were barking, and people were shouting. I tried to grab anything that might be useful and got out of my tent. I looked around the camp. People were injured, but there were no bodies on the ground. Then I saw Christina emerging from one of the tents. She said that the fugitive thanked her, and walked away. We left the camp in shambles and ran into the forest. We heard footsteps.“No! Don’t go that way!” someone shouted. We stopped running and looked back. It was the fugitive running madly towards us. “Can I kill him?” asked Colena. He stopped before us, panting. “The people there are not nice. Here, I have a safer place you can stay.”

We followed him to a cave lined with green moss. The cave was almost like a flat stone wall, so it was not that easy to spot it at first glance. We walked into the cave, and there were some supplies in there. “I have been staying in here for few months or so.” the fugitive shrugged. “You guys can stay here tonight. After all, I owe you.” So we slept there for the night.

I woke up to a warm breeze. It was noon! Everyone started waking up. How much time have we wasted? People started to ask the fugitive if he knew Barnabus. We had not seen him for quite a long time. He said that he did, but Barnabus left him. Also, Barnabus owed him a gold nugget the size of a fist. He never gave it back. We sat in silence for a bit.

“Can I kill him?” Someone whispered eagerly. We said bye, and left. You know, to avoid him being murdered. So now we have to choose between two options. Either go home or find Barnabus’s gold nugget. In the end, we were heading back to Dawson City to find the gold nugget. We went to a social house, and Emily spent some time eavesdropping on drunk people’s conversations. We found out that the mounties were keeping Barnabus’s gold piece in their office. We went back out and immediately hurried to their camp. We sneaked inside, and on the right, there was the office and the locker room. In the locker room, I heard someone talking to himself. “How do I spell the word douche? D-U-S-H….No...I think there should be an o. D-O-U-S-H..” “It’s D-O-U-C-H-E, stupid.” Then I heard a gunshot.

Well, anyway, we went to the office and looked for the gold nugget. After a few moments of rustling around in the drawers, we finally found it. We walked out of the camp, totally not suspicious, and sighed with relief. We gave the gold back to the fugitive, he said thanks, and actually split it between us. “So that everyone would have some.” he said.

When I got back home, I got a job, bought some food, and whatever you need to survive. I didn’t use it all though. By the way, Conrad was arrested, he didn’t pay the money in time, and the woman actually bought the bone for his dog, and Barnabus is alive and probably well. I hope so. Anyway, this whole experience was interesting. Some people died, but we got the gold and it’s all fine.

Out With A Bang by:Curtis Yang We left our camp today and was led to safety, the next day we set up a plan to split into groups so that we could sneak back to Dawson City, one group was the people sneaking and the others were the distraction because some of us were wanted so we had to have a people to cause a distraction while some of us sneaked into the City. I thought this plan was a very risky one but it was better than being sitting ducks. I later had a really close call when I knocked something over and almost fell, which proved to me that I was right about this being a risky plan, but I made the save at the last second without making any noise. We murdered an officer and proceeded to try and find all the information we could in the locker room and the office. Then, we went to the floor safe and we found some gold, which I decided to keep because my original goal was to make money for my poor family . After doing all the things that we needed to do we sneaked out and caused an avalanche with explosives which caused us to split up.

Rachael Tuesday, November 3, 1897 Hello again to my journal who fortunately did not get blown up, Just so you know, there was smoke in the sky, a couple of fires burning and craters everywhere in the aftermath of the explosion.

It was fun to see.

Anyhow, I guess now there’s a bounty on my head for ‘attempted murder by explosion’ if that’s a charge. There was a thundering of hoofbeats as the last mounties galloped away on their horses that were completely identical (how the heck?- I don’t think genetically modifying was invented yet...BUT WHATEVER, CASE CLOSED). Bryant, Emilky, Christina, Ada, Ronald, Angela, Cynthia, Chelsea, Jocelyn all headed out into the forest. I returned to inside the tents, and the Indigenous man was climbing out of his hiding spot (under a pile of clothes). He saw us looking at him and said: “Thank you, I’ll be going now.”

He then proceeded towards the exit, and disappeared. Colena followed him, and they both disappeared out of the flap.

I went back outside just to see Colena disappearing into the forest. I observed my surroundings. The carcasses of animals (no humans, thankfully, or Homo Sapiens Sapiens if you want to be scientific [and yes, we did murder the original

Homo Sapiens, so now we’re Homo Sapiens Sapiens. Where did I get that? My brother told me. Is he a reliable source? No.].

Fun fact: The scientific name for a pig is ‘sus’) lay littered around, and small fires were still burning, smoke rising from them.

It looked like someone made a campfire and a few meteors just crashed around them. I’m pretty sure you can call Plot One Hundred Ninety-Nine the moon now that it has so many craters.

I gathered a couple of bombs and grenades and a few of Jerry’s stolen molotovs-cocktails-that-didn’t-even-exist, putting them in my backpack (four of them had guncotton, which was I think six times more explosive [lol]). I considered putting them around the camp for extra protection, but then shoved the thought out of my head because this place was utterly destroyed, and it was unlikely that we would be able to defend it. So, Jerry, Curtis, and I abandoned Plot One Hundred Ninety-Nine, and caught up to Bryant, Emily, Christina, Cynthia, Chelsea, Jocelyn, Ronald, Ada, and Angela in the forest. Colena joined us with her bow drawn shortly after.

It was rather dangerous to stumble into random places we didn’t know, so we took a forest path that we knew to be parallel with the road. I heard a set of footsteps running up to us, and I turned to see the Indigenous man whom by now I was pretty sure was ‘Clear Sky’ by now. “Don’t go that way,” he said, panting, “Those people aren’t nice.” Instead he redirected us to another path, seemingly west, although I’ m not the best at directions. The sky was now painted a purple-pink-red-orange colour, the sun glowing a fiery yellow as it slowly appeared over the waves of mountains in the distance.

He brought us to a small clearing, where there was an outcrop and a small stone cave. The man led us to something that looked like a wall. I mean, does this description sound like a stone wall?: The stone was smooth, at an almost vertical angle, and I wondered how it became like that. It was a medium gray colour, and I saw that it wasn’t that smooth, but either way, it was smoother than the rest of the outcropping, and no pebbles were in sight. I muttered to myself: “Why in the world are you leading us to a stone wall.?” I soon got my answer. The Indigenous man stepped through the stone wall, and I could suddenly see that it was a rather dark cave, with a bed and comfort for living.

“I spend some time of the year here hunting,” he explained, “I just thought maybe you could stay here and we would go our separate ways in the morning.” I was glad to fall asleep - one of the best nights I’d had since about a week.

When I woke up the next morning - earlier than most - I realized that it was about ten o’clock in the morning. The others woke shortly after, and I did not like sleeping until midday because I found it impossible (well I was just proved wrong-). I panicked a little, since I was so used to waking up early, then realized that there was no threat currently. I sat up. The Indigenous man looked at us and said: “Ah, you’re waking up. I thought I’d let you sleep - you all looked so tired.”

We talked for a while. Emily asked, “Where are you going or how are you going to survive?” I didn’t hear his reply, if he did reply at all. “Did you know Barnabus?” Christina asked.

“He was a good friend of mine - it was sad to see you just left him there - no investigation, no burial,” he replied “How did you know?” Colena asked. I nearly broke down in tears. It was one thing to see someone dead - it was another to be told by someone that you didn’t honour their good friend’s life. The truth was, we didn’t honour his life, and I was ashamed of it. Guilty, one might say.

“I saw.”

“Why would they kill Barnabus?” Colena asked. That was an important question I had not considered.

“Probably the same reason that one of your friends dug up a dead man’s body and took his ring. The reason that they were chasing me.” They… Did mounties kill Barnabus? It was probably true - we had heard hoofbeats that night - but why? was the question.

“Why are you judging us?” (Don’t jump to conclusions, Colena) “I’m not judging you. I’m merely observing and understanding.”

“Why us?”

“I have been watching a lot of you. The forest was ours until it was purchased from us by a man named Conrad Michigan.” That was shocking. I had always thought Conrad was an idiot, but taking land from Indigenous peoples - and probably paying them lower prices than he usually would - was outrageous.

He gave us a description of the area, with a path to Dawson City and a place he believed that the Clifton Gang resided in, warning us to steer clear of that area. He didn’t have a map, but we understood. We left at twelve o’clock noon.

We arrived in Dawson City at 5 o’clock - we had made sure to hide Jerry and Curtis amongst our group and to have weapons ready to be drawn in the case of any danger. We walked in the city through the gate as if nothing had happened, and everyone seemed to be going about their business. However, there were more coffins outside town with people digging more holes to bury them. There were also the two men we saw talking about killing people in the Social House. “...stay in shape - I don’t understand it - as if they want to get shot…” one of them was saying.

“I wonder what happened to Obtul’s guys,” said the other. I just hoped that none of them would notice us, and was glad when we passed them undisturbed.

As we moved further into town, I saw that usually there were a whole bunch of mountie’s horses tied up on a post, but today there was only one. Looks like I’ve put a bounty on all of our heads, or maybe it has something to do with us - well more like

Jerry, Curtis, Colena, and Bryant - shooting everyone, I thought gleefully. We went up to a door of a mountie and knocked. A woman answered the door. The woman asked what we wanted. Colena asked where the mounties went, and she asked whether we needed help. Colena said “No, we just want to know where they went” and her reply was hunting for us like we were animals (she

didn’t actually say that but it sounded like it). She said that there were rumours that the ‘Wagner Children’ were Vikings on some religious expedition, asking to get shot so they can go to some heaven or hell or whatever. All this time I was veeeery confused.

She said something about her husband being one of the mounties, and some other nonsense (or rubbish if you’re British or Australian). Then, we decided to leave and go to the Social House.

At the Social House, there was a guy playing piano (as usual), but there were less people (not as usual). The dude at the piano just kept on playing one melody over and over again, and when Bryant tried to ask him to play Rondo Alla Turca by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (go search it up or Duolingo will hunt you down) and paid A WHOLE FIVE DOLLARS FOR IT, HE JUST KEPT ON PLAYING THE SAME MELODY!! AND BRYANT DIDN’T EVEN TAKE HIS MONEY BACK (At least someone is civilized, but still- I actually don’t even know where he got that money)!

We were sitting next to a group of people who were talking about gold - well one of them was and the others just sounded fed-up. I had a strange feeling that the guy who was rambling on and on about gold was gold-obsessed, and I wished there was some kind of mechanism in your brain where you could shut off your ears to certain sounds and voices. Finally, we all agreed to leave, and went to the only place we had the brains not to go: the mounties station.

The sky was now painted a brilliant red-orange, the sun again a fiery yellow as it slowly sank like the (future mode on) Titanic except the fact that it was not a ship (as you all can clearly see). We headed towards the mounties’ station, and we split up. Colena, Curtis, Jerry, and I chose to sneak round the back, and Emily, Bryant, Cynthia, Chelsea, Jocelyn, Angela, Ada and Ronald went straight in through the front.

We went to a back, where, instead of going through the back door, we scaled the wall and climbed in through a window.

Colena was like a shadow and slid in easily, Jerry and I got in fine, and Curtis knocked over a rack with his foot and caught it just in time before it hit the ground. There was an office with a closed door to the left, we were currently in a locker room, and to the right was a man asking how to spell the word ‘deuce’ and whether it had an O. We went towards the voice first, and I considered throwing a bomb and exploding the person, but then realized we had left them behind outside, along with our backpacks.

The man at the desk in the room was the skinniest person I’d ever seen. His neck looked overly long, his mountie uniform looked like it was two sizes too large, his face was so thin that his jawbone jutted out, and his legs were literally like branches that had fallen from a tree and been attached to a person. Colena pulled out her bow, nocked an arrow, and shot him, right in the face.

Blood spilled out of the wound and onto the counter and the chair, staining it an unpleasant bright red, slowly drying into dark reddish brown. The mountie slumped, dead. Colena has got a bounty on her head now, not as if she hadn’t already because I existed (you go ask her whether she likes it - your answer will be that there will be “more chances to shoot people”).

No one seemed surprised to see Colena do that. I did not really care, because we had murdered enough people that I was more worried about whether there was a random person here who was just coming here who saw. We first searched the lockers, where we found that in the lockers were another set of the mounties’ clothes in each - normal shoes, civilian trousers, common shirts, some held photos of lovers or their children or wives (or husbands). Some had various decorations, some were terribly clean, others were terribly messy, some were organized in a creative way, others were simply - well - indescribable. I looked around on the racks and saw nothing. Oh, and also, I forgot to tell you the reason why we are here. It’s because we did a vote with three options: 1. Go home through the Chilkoot Pass, 2. Hunt down the Clifton Gang, 3. Search for Barnabus’ gold. The third option won, and we went to Dawson City.

We searched the office next. Labelled on the door and sitting on his desk were signs saying “Lieutenant Merçer”. Next to the sign on his desk was a Commonwealth flag, which I shot a disgusted look at. It was spookily clean, so organized and clean that there was not a speck of dust anywhere, and I nearly went insane looking at it. The books were organized neatly on the shelves, fitting perfectly like a puzzle so that none of them fell over. There was a small stack of newspapers and books on the desk as well, the newspapers neatly folded and on the bottom with two books on top. The drawers were neatly organized with folders and belongings, and everything looked like it had been swept one second ago. Several drawers contained folders, but none of them were related. There were folders on bounties, every one of the mounties, dead people, permanent residents in Dawson City, maps of different cities, a map of all the plots, but none of them were important.

Then we struck gold (not actual gold - if you’re not an idiot you would know what I mean). Ronald got a locked drawer open, and inside were a whole lot of folders. One of them was labelled Michigan’. I don’t think Merçer has a file folder on each of the states in the United States of America - everything here was on people. The file was fairly thick. My heart beated in my ears as we crowded around the documents. It detailed a plan between Lieutenant Merçer and Conrad to purchase large tracts of seemingly worthless land, then hide gold in them, and hire people to go there and keep them interested. I realized, with a shock, that all the gold that we found probably was hidden by Conrad Michigan.

The documents discussed the amount of money they would earn from selling the land over and over again, and as we plunged deeper into this mystery, we discovered evidence of a plan. It was to spread it and earn money. A scheme. But a thought was triggered in my head. George Carmack and his family discovered the gold. Were they involved? That was another mystery, the many, many, mysteries of life that have yet to be uncovered.

Then the direction of the plan changed. It reached its peak, then Conrad insisted that he back out of the plan, saying that he wasn’t earning enough money. Merçer responded with blackmail, saying that he had complete records of this and he could put law enforcement on his tail whenever he wanted. Then, we actually struck gold.

Angela found a piece of loose floorboard and told the rest of us. Curtis and Colena both tried and failed to rip open the floorboards, until Christina pushed them aside and ripped it open. Inside was a box of little gold nuggets, which I assumed was Barnabus’ secret gold stash, and a safe. We (well the rest of them) were stupidly trying every single combination of the three-number code. I suggested that we searched for clues of the code, so they did. Ronald found a rather old-looking folder containing more maps, and a copy of the Periodic Table of Elements. I suddenly had a brainwave. “Gold is Au!” I said.

“Element 79!” Colena said excitedly.

“Try 079,” we said at the same time. I watched in pure excitement as we slowly punched in the numbers. The safe clicked open. Inside were two boxes. We removed the boxes and looked inside. One of them held bullets. We put that one aside.

The other was surprisingly light, despite its large shape. We opened it, and it looked like it contained a rather large revolver.

Then, as we put that aside as well, we found it. Barnabus’ large gold nugget, wrapped in a single cloth. Lost, found, hidden, then found again.

We took it, carefully replaced the bullets and the gun case, closed the safe, and I thought we should’ve changed the password, but then decided against it because of arbitrary reasons. Then, we carefully replaced the floorboards, making it look like it had never been opened, put all the folders except the one on Conrad back, replaced everything how they were, left the office, closed the door, and left the building before anyone could discover that we had been there and murdered someone (his name was Duey - wow his parents are horribly bad at naming… *slaps self* no judging). We hid the folder and the gold in Christina’s

bag, and left town, crossing the roads and moving as conspicuously and briskly as possible. When we reached the edge of town, one of the men that we had overheard plotting to murder people was about to go with his friend back into the town, when the sight of Cynthia caught his eye. Perhaps it was the way she moved, or the way she spoke, or the way she looked - either way, she caught his eye, and that almost certainly meant trouble.

He turned around, pausing for a moment. Cynthia noticed, raised her hand towards the nearby horse, and slapped it, hard, causing it to rear up and break free of the rope holding it to the post, and charge into town. It caused quite a lot of mayhem, and the two looked towards the horse, and we hurried away as quickly as possible down the road, stirring up clouds of dust as we ran, huffing and puffing for breath.

We decided to be sensible for the sake of efficiency - we would hurry and dart into the trees whenever we heard the slightest noise resembling hoofbeats, footfalls, dogs, whistling - anything to do with civilization - and return to the road when we were sure that the coast was all clear. We did not stop until the next evening, where I lay down gladly to rest, and I’m pretty sure the others did as well. Emily, being the angel that she was, volunteered to keep watch during the night as we set up camp. Jerry loaded blanks into his revolver and told her to shoot it at a tree whenever danger approached us, and I took one of my stolen molotov-cocktails-that-were-forty-two-years-early and handed it to her, telling her to light the fuse with a matchstick and throw it at someone if danger approached. However (and thankfully), none of that was necessary.

Wednesday, November 4, 1897 Hello again, It’s amazing how this journal has survived this long. I sometimes see Bryant writing in his journal as well, and for some reason that was reassuring. It’s actually amazing how all of us have survived this long, particularly the three people who are rather reckless: Jerry, Curtis, and Colena (maybe Bryant included as well…). And it amazes me even more considering that last night we brushed so close to danger and we’re all still living. Wow. The great achievements of humanity. Emily told us all when we woke up that mounties had passed our campsite, and reassured us that everything was fine. Anyhow, she looked weary and tired, and I’m pretty sure we should give her a rest since she’s so paranoid about keeping everyone safe. Next time we camp, we should get someone else other than Emily to keep watch. Remind me please.

We packed up our camp, reloaded our backpacks, and set out with a fresh day ahead of us. Most of us were fresh with the obvious exception of Emily, whom I made sure had to carry less than us (dude give her a rest, she hasn’t slept in 3 days) - Ada and Ronald looked like their usual grumpy selves, Curtis, Jerry, and Bryant had replenished their ammunition stores again, and Colena just seemed to have an endless supply of arrows. Jocelyn was awake and wary, Cynthia the same, Christina heaving under the weight of eight kilograms of gold (the gold nugget the size of a fist that we recovered yesterday) and Chelsea seemed to be daydreaming, or she was alert and I just didn’t know it.

It was not the earliest - seven o’clock in the morning, with the sky still streaking with purple, pink, red, and orange, and the sun having climbed three quarters of its way up to the sky, we set out for Chilkoot Pass, walking the path that we had walked about six to seven weeks ago. The scenery was familiar, the sounds of people walking past us was familiar, although now, it seems, more people were walking towards the pass than from it, the smell of many people was familiar, everything was. A lot of

people were going back and forth, many going south for the winter. Some were heading north, and were probably going to stay in Dawson City for the winter, because Chilkoot Pass would almost certainly close when winter was met with heavy snowfall and a lot of ice.

Snow had just begun to fall, already a blizzard, and I could barely see where I was going as we all trudged on towards Chilkoot Pass. The snow was already piled up to my ankles, and I felt lucky that I had a warm, thick jacket around me. I was happy that I was finally going home - ah, home sweet home - to Skagway, where my little house certainly awaited me, unless it had been torn down without my consent, which there was probably 0.0000000000001% chance of (there’s still a chance-).

We trudged on without a break, stopping only to refill our water flasks, or to have a snack. Mounties frequently passed us, but we were hidden deep in the crowd that we could not have been noticed by them, all of us just 13 of the tens, hundreds, perhaps thousands of people heading back and forth between Chilkoot Pass and Dawson City. The mounties looked unhappy about something - Wanted signs had also been put up for Colena, although she seemed not to care. It said ‘WANTED’, of course, but did not say her name - they had not yet identified her, below it: ‘In connection of the murder of a mountie’. There was a picture of Colena, except it really wasn’t Colena - the face was way too chubby, the arrows in the quiver on her back too thick at the turkey-feather fletching, the shading, light spots, and angle all wrong. Her hairline was way too low, in contrast to Jerry’s, her hair an inch too long, her neck a centimeter too wide, her ears sticking out like a monkey. Whoever draws these sketches is definitely an amateur, or they are purposely trying to be bad, of which there’s a 0.0000000000001% chance.

We trudged on, reached the Chilkoot trail, and began our climb. It was easier now, and less slippery thanks to the newly fallen snow, which gripped onto our boots and allowed us to climb with our pikes and feet. Before we went up the hill, however, Jerry and I placed explosives - all of them except two with guncotton - at the bottom, attached to a spool of fuse at the place where the mountain just began to gain altitude, in the case that Christina should get into trouble and not be able to smuggle the file folder of Conrad and the large gold nugget into the southern part of the country.

We got into line, single file, in this order from the front to the rear: Jerry, I, Emily, Ada, Ronald, Chelsea, Christina, Angela, Bryant, Jocelyn, Cynthia, Curtis, Colena (Christina in the middle because she had the gold nugget and the folder, Colena in the back so she didn’t shoot everyone before we even got to the top, Jerry in the front so he’s able to whip out his gun whenever possible in the event of a threat). I was burying the line of fuse as discreetly as possible so that the explosives were able to detonate at the top. I noticed that, at the bottom, were mounties from Dawson City and a couple of makeshift hospitals with nurses bustling around patients who had evidently been injured on their climb or their way down. Once we reached the top, a ring of about twenty mounties in different uniforms - meaning that some were from the town in the south (that is, Dyea) - had their guns out, and one of them that did not his gun out, with two standing by his side, was searching people, every single man and woman and those of other genders who passed through Chilkoot Pass. Evidently we had caused this. There were also twenty makeshift hospitals (medical centres if you want), nurses and doctors bustling around, treating patients. I dropped the spool of fuse and rolled it with my feet so that no one would see it (well they’d see me shuffling along suspiciously but that doesn’t matter).

Jerry approached the checkpoint first.

“Raise your arms,” the mountie searching everyone said.

“No,” Jerry said, glaring at him and reaching towards his belt, where the revolver was stowed (also I don’t recommend you shoot him, Jerry, since I think this guy has had enough with you - you might recall that you shot him).

“Now now, no need to be hasty, I’m just searching you to see if you’re in possession of stolen property.” Clearly Jerry was not the first one that was unwilling to be searched. “We’re just looking for something in particular - we’re not looking to steal your gold or anything.” I had an inkling of what that ‘something in particular’ was - the folder detailing the plans between Lieutenant Merçer and Conrad. The man seemed not to know that Jerry shot him. He searched Jerry. “Everything seems to be in order. You may go along.”

I walked forward, still spooling the fuse discreetly (amazing how no one noticed LOL not even the guys that were pointing guns at me). “Raise your arms,” the mountie said.

“No,” I replied, firmly.

“Listen, kid (from when was I ‘kid’ because I’m sixteen?), it’s just standard procedure man (wrong gender idiot), if you prefer-” He gestured to a female mountie, who came over (I’m just saying that I don’t want to be searched AT ALL. I think that’s pretty clear).

“Ma’am (oh so now I’m ‘ma’am now), it’s just simple.”, she said. She looked unfamiliar, so she probably came from the town. “Just a simple decision - checking your bag (how in the whole wide world does that make sense? A search is a decision now?).”

“No, no thanks,” I replied. “What right do you have to search me?”

“Well I-” (that’s right, get rekt) She looked towards Lieutenant Merçer. “Hmm- You know, that’s a very good question. You go ahead, ma’am.” She walked over to Merçer and began a conversation with him. He didn’t seem to be listening at first, but then she raised her voice and he began to listen. She must’ve realized that she was carrying out unlawful orders for no particular reason that was given to her. I walked past, still spooling the fuse - which was reaching its tip, and stood with Jerry to wait for the others, satisfied that I had gotten past.

Emily went next. “Why in the world should I let you search me?” she asked. The man sounded exasperated as he muttered under his breath, “Ah, I swear, these prospectors.” Emily got past with no problem.

Ada was next. “May I please search you?” the mountie asked, still exasperated, and with a little hint of annoyance. “It’s just a simple procedure. I just make sure you’re not carrying, like, stolen goods. Alright? Just simple. You don’t even fit the description of the person we’re looking for.”

“No,” Ada said firmly.

“Look, just, just! It’s not like you can- it’s not like you can get anyone to hide a freakin’ bow and arrow in a backpack.” I glanced towards Colena. She grinned back.

“You just like- Okay, you don’t have a bow and arrow. Go on.”

Ronald also refused to be searched (it was extremely fun).

“No, look, seriously. No, okay, we’re searching you.” Two armed mounties came and held him still as he was searched.

He passed anyway.

“May we search you?” the mountie asked Chelsea.

“No.” “Why?” She shrugged. They forcibly searched her as well, and found nothing. She passed safely. Now I began to get jittery. Christina was next, with the file folder and the large gold piece hidden in her bag.

“Will you agree to be searched?” the mountie asked Christina. At that point, I had a sickening feeling in my stomach that something bad was going to happen, and lit the fuse. The fire traveled quickly down the fuse until it disappeared from sight.

Nothing happened for a moment.

“No.” He sighed. “Yeah! Sure! Why?” “I have a child!” (that was the most random thing you could ever get) “You- you have- a child? Where are you keeping-”

Alright, how large a font shall I write this (*Grins*)?

think this big is fine

This big? Nah, too small.

I

.

(beware: large explosion ahead)

KABOOOOOOOMMMM!!!!! *avalanche alert* People turned and fled, spilling over to the north or the south, and I paused, waiting for Colena, and we both nearly fell down the hill as we both ran for home, sweet home, for the first time in two months (yes that’s enough to make me homesick, don’t judge). The mounties tried (and failed) to retain order, but people panicked so badly that I grinned as I looked upwards when I reached the bottom of the hill. Half of the mounties tried to run down to their respective towns, and succeeded in doing so, spilling over the edge of the pass. The rest tried as well (at least you tried, you only had one chance though, now you’re dead) but were swallowed by a massive wall of white as a wall of white snow tumbled down both sides of the mountain towards us. None of us seemed to be swallowed by the avalanche, and I ducked out of the way as it rolled towards us. I spat out a bit of snow and looked up at the sky, grinning at the sun beating down on the snow.

THE END

(jk there’s still an epilogue)

Epilogue Alright I’m too fed up with writing in cursive so I’m gonna write this as a story. Also, Mr/Mrs/Ms. Editor (aka Junielle/Matt or whoever is editing this), I’m no longer writing in cursive. Are you happy that your eyes don’t have to suffer anymore?

So basically, in the epilogue, I return to Skagway (a pretty short walk - fifteen minutes), and for some reason and by some coincidence, Colena somehow also lives there. We bump into each other in town sometimes, and we laugh about the adventures that we had, though never mentioning the name ‘Wagner and Assorted/Associated Children Inc.’ in case we all got arrested again (well ‘again’ for Colena who got arrested for not knowing what an epaulet was). I don’t think Colena should walk around with a bow in her hand anymore either, and thankfully she doesn’t. We both live to a ripe old age to see both World Wars end, though not the end of the Cold War (we do see it begin though and we also live to see molotov cocktails invented). I stay single and sell my gold, giving 98% of the money to charity and spending 2% on making my life not miserable. I decline Christina’s offer to share the profits of Barnabus’ large gold nugget, and when she forces me to take it, I just mail the cash back to her. I graduate from University of Edinburgh in 1904 with a degree in medicine (and I then return to Canada and become a doctor). I live until the ripe old age of 83, and Colena lives until the ripe old age of 87. I die in 1963, on October 1st, which is ironically the day my life changed and I started my adventure in the Klondike Gold Rush. Colena dies in 1967.

THE [REAL] END Δεαννα Λυ, ιφ ψου’ρε ρεαδινγ τηισ, Ξολενα ανδ Ι’σ γηοστσ αρε σταλκινγ ψου ριγητ νοω…

LOL YOU JUST GOT RICKROLLED (also look at the bottom left)