Helena looked ready to puke when the entire room started swaying to various Garth hits. “This is rubbish.” She was heard mumbling, out of Lara and Bette’s earshot, when The River came on.

Shane and Jenny combined their efforts for a gift of weed and whiskey. Bette threw the massive baggie at Helena with a grin. “We’ll need a babysitter later, when we try this out.” She said with raised eyebrow.

Alice snickered. “Ditto for my prezzy.”

The last gifts that Bette opened, consisted of assorted weaponry from Catherine. Helena, for some reason, kept her stash separate. Bette looked at her curiously, happy with the new guns Catherine had provided her with.   

Bette smiled. She reached for Helena’s gift, tearing into it right away.

Two machetes, crooked in the middle where they had been altered to an even deadlier design, absolutely identical to the ones in Bette’s dream, emerged from brown wrapping. Bette stared mesmerized for a while. A feeling of dread built within her.  Where, in her dream, had the rest of their family been? Why had her dream only contained herself and Helena—so far in the future?

“Love?” Helena whispered in her ear. “Are you all right? Maybe I shouldn’t have…”

“no, no…” Bette said quickly. She reached a hand behind Helena’s neck, squeezing gently. “They’re fantastic…”

“I got you more.” Helena grinned against Bette’s lips. “Mummy has the rest…”

Peggy and Helena had combined their talents in a series of sketches of Caiohme, of their friends, of various landscapes. Mother and daughter had once shared artistic interests, but their falling out had interrupted that learning. Now, they had found new inspiration.

Bette was in awe of the pictures. She couldn’t believe that Helena had had such time on her hands. How much time had passed, in which they were simply living, on the edges of their former lives, Bette could no longer tell.  Maybe this was the hidden meaning of her dreams.  Perhaps they were less about prophecy and more about a sense of time—stretching further than it ever had before.

Or maybe her dreams were trying to tell her something more subtle. Bette noted the glint of light on the steel blades, as she passed the knives around to be admired. She looked at Helena, holding their daughter close, and she remembered that her dream also contained the sounds of jeeps in the distance—their friends perhaps.  Next time, Bette would chose her dreams carefully.  Next time, she would control what happened.  They were going to win, Bette was suddenly sure.  Helena looked at her, and smiled.