Dark Washington Part 6 and 1/2

Chapter 6.5
In Which the Author Desperatly Tries to Develop The Main Character's Personalities

“Your name is Silvia, right?” asked Paul
“Is that all you have to say to me after two hours of walking?” Silvia said, irritated by the silence of her comrade.
“I’m just travelling with you to have your experience in fighting, not to talk to you. Isn’t that all you came along for? To get help going to the next town.”
“You don’t need to be so anti-social. Do you really hate me this much? I quit the bandit organization after all.”
Paul stood there, silent. “Why did you do that, anyway?”
“Just an impulse, I guess. I wanted to see things from a different angle.”
“Really? You didn’t care at all about what I said?”
Silvia shrugged. “That may have been part of it,” she said, “but I was getting tired of those people anyway. I just want to go places that bandits don’t go to.”
“Because people don’t like bandits, bandits threaten them and burn their towns. Either way, it still comes down to a moral issue,” Paul stated, “What you seem to want to see is societies, the exact thing you said didn’t exist and what bandits are constantly destroying with every single burglary they commit.”
“Well, your little lecture did get me interested in the technology and town feel. I don’t care about these confusing and useless moral issues you talk about.”
“Fine, fine, but do you care about contributing something? To help people?”
“If it earns me fame and money, sure. I don’t care much about the people, though.”
“You don’t? You don’t care about making people’s lives better?”
“Well, maybe a bit, but only if it’s going to get me money anyway. I wouldn’t do it only to make them happy while at my expense.”
Paul realized the sun had already gone down. It was really dark. His eyes had adjusted to it quickly enough that he hadn’t noticed it. It had been a long walk. Monroe lay just on the other side of some hills. It would be in view by tomorrow. He was a bit glad to have someone to talk to, even if they were a former bandit. He had travelled alone for years, only stopping into town every few months. She seemed to be a nicer person than back when she had was threatening him. Or maybe it was only because she wasn’t threatening him. Either way, it felt safer to travel this way too.
Paul started a camp fire fairly quickly. He used some matches, but would be able to start one anyway with a fire bow. It would have been nice to cook something, but all he had was canned food. He didn’t think cooking the nasty, stale canned food would make it taste better. However, with a lack of anything else to do, he tried it anyway. It ended up with just nasty, stale, burnt canned food.
It was early summer and it was a warm, clear night, so the camp fire would be enough to keep them warm. Paul checked his pack, and there were three sleeping pads. They would at least provide some comfort. As a precaution, a common one of those times, Paul stacked branches and one of the pads around the edges of their camp. It should keep the fire hidden from any thieves lurking around. The smoke would be hard to see, as the moon was nearly fully dark.
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Do we really need to talk about anything? I’m tired. If you don’t recall, I spent most of last night running from your bandit friends. I’m going to sleep now, you do what you want. Just don’t let the fire get large enough to give away our location.”
“Can I borrow that graphing calculator? I’m curious about a few things, and it has internet…” she said, reaching for the calculator lying on the ground.
“NO! My graphing calculator!” said Paul, snatching it away, “I found it. It’s mine, my own. It’s much too valuable to me to be letting anyone use it.”
“Fine. I guess I’m going to sleep now to. Night… wait, what’s your name? You never told me.”
Paul thought for a second, wondering if it would be fine to tell someone his name, in case others had heard of him before, but decided giving away his real name would be fine. “I’m Paul Roberts. Now be quiet so I can sleep.”
Paul fell asleep a few minutes later, despite the uncomfortable pads. The fire slowly burned out. Tomorrow could be a turning point in both of their lives. Monroe, a large town, did it exist? Paul’s dreams where filled with hope it was. He secretly thought, though, that no town that large could survive. Tomorrow: what would it hold?