The moment we stepped into Dylan Matthews' camp, I knew something wasn't right. The air felt too still, too heavy, like the forest itself was holding its breath. There were no birds singing, no rustling of leaves, just the low murmur of conversations from the Nomads scattered around the campfire, their faces half-hidden in shadow. Dylan stood at the center of it all, tall and broad-shouldered, his grizzled beard flecked with gray, his eyes sharp and calculating. He looked like someone who had seen too much—someone who had survived this world long before it crumbled. His Nomads were a ragtag bunch, dressed in mismatched survival gear, their weapons hung casually at their sides. But there was nothing casual about the way they watched us. "Welcome," Dylan said, his voice low and smooth, like he was trying to put us at ease. It didn’t work. "You've picked a hell of a time to wander into our little corner of the world.." I exchanged a quick glance with Ben, my stomach twisting wit
I needed to tell Ben and Sarah what I'd overheard. I knew that. But every time I opened my mouth to say the words, something stopped me. Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was the fear that if I said it out loud, everything would fall apart. Or maybe, deep down, I wasn't sure if I could follow through with the consequences of outing Marcus. If he was double-crossing us, we’d have to deal with him. And dealing with Marcus wouldn’t be pretty. Stupid, I know. As we sat in silence, the door creaked open, and Dylan stepped inside, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. He looked at each of us in turn, his eyes lingering on Marcus for a moment before he spoke. "I figured you'd want to know," Dylan said, his voice low. "The Scorchers are close. My scouts spotted them a few miles south of here." My heart skipped a beat, my mind racing. If the Scorchers were that close, it was only a matter of time before they found us. We needed to get out of here. Now. "We'll be gone before
The explosion shook the cabin walls so hard I thought they might come crashing down. Dust rained from the ceiling, filling the air with a thick, choking cloud. My heart lurched into my throat as the sound of gunfire erupted outside, sharp cracks cutting through the stillness of the night. The Scorchers were here, and they didn’t waste time with pleasantries. "Get down!!" Ben shouted, pulling me to the floor just as a window shattered, spraying glass across the room. I hit the ground hard, the impact jarring my ribs, sending a fresh wave of pain through my side. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe, my vision swimming as I tried to pull myself together. But there was no time for pain, no time for weakness. We were under attack. Sarah was already scrambling for her gun, her face pale but determined as she crouched behind the overturned table. Ben had his rifle in hand, his eyes locked on the door, his body tense and ready for a fight. Marcus, of course, stood in the corner, calm as eve
In a blur of motion, Ben lunged forward, his rifle swinging up to knock the Scorcher's gun aside. The shot went wide, the sound deafening in the night, but Ben didn’t stop. He slammed the butt of his rifle into the Scorcher's face, the sound of bone crunching echoing in my ears. The Scorcher crumpled to the ground, blood spurting from his broken nose. I gasped, my body finally snapping back into motion as Ben grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the trees. "MOVE!" We ran. My legs burned with every step, my lungs screaming for air, but I kept going. We darted through the trees, the sounds of battle fading behind us as we pushed deeper into the forest. The river was close—I could hear it rushing somewhere ahead, the sound of the water cutting through the chaos like a lifeline. But just as we broke through the trees, I heard a scream. I stopped, my heart lurching in my chest as I spun around. Sarah. She was on the ground, a Scorcher standing over her, his knife gleaming in the moo
The blood wouldn't come off. No matter how hard I scrubbed, no matter how raw my hands became, it stayed there, a dark stain that seemed to sink deeper into my skin with every passing second. I crouched by the riverbank, the cold water biting into my fingers as I rubbed them together, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. The night was quiet now, the battle behind us, but my mind was still filled with the screams. The gunfire. The bodies. I’d killed. We....had... Of course, it wasn't my first time. far from it. This world didn’t allow for innocence. But tonight was different. Tonight had been brutal, savage. The Scorchers had come at us like wolves, and I'd fought back the only way I knew how. I'd fired my gun until it clicked empty, then grabbed a knife and kept going. I hadn't thought. I hadn't hesitated. And now, as the adrenaline faded and the cold reality set in, I couldn't stop shaking. How many had I killed? Four? Five? I couldn't even remember their faces, ju
I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze. There was something in his eyes, something raw and real, that made me believe him. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was stronger than I thought. But it didn’t stop the doubt gnawing at my insides, the fear that I was losing myself in the process. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. "I just... I don’t want to become like them." "You won't." Ben said his voice firm. "As long as you remember why you're fighting, you won't." I nodded, though I wasn't sure if I believed him. But I wanted to. I wanted to believe that we could survive this nightmare without losing everything that made us human. We sat there in silence for a while, the sound of the river rushing past us, the night settling in around us like a heavy blanket. The battle was over, but the scars it left would stay with us long after the smoke cleared. As we made our way back to the camp, the air was thick with the stench of death. Bodies lay scattered across the grou
The wind howled like a wild animal outside the bunker, rattling the metal doors and sending a low, eerie moan through the narrow corridors. I could feel the tension in the air with every gust, the oppressive weight of the storm pressing down on us like a vice. Dust storms were common in this part of the world, but this one was different. This one was massive, a roiling wall of destruction that had swept in from the horizon like something out of a nightmare. We'd barely made it inside before the first wave hit. The sky had darkened to a sickly orange, and the winds had picked up so fast that they’d torn the air right out of our lungs. Now we were stuck, huddled together in the suffocating darkness of the underground bunker while the storm raged overhead. "This place gives me the creeps...."Sarah muttered from her spot near the door, her eyes flicking nervously around the cramped room. The bunker was small, just one chamber with a low ceiling and bare concrete walls. Thick iron shel
Ben was sitting near the door, his back to the wall, his rifle resting across his lap. He hadn’t spoken much since his spat with Marcus, but I could see the way his eyes flicked toward Marcus every few minutes, as if he was waiting for something to happen. I, on the other hand, had my mind on other things. Specifically, the small, leather-bound journal I’d found tucked behind a stack of cans on one of the shelves. It was old, the leather cracked and worn, the pages yellowed with age. There was no name on the cover, but the moment I opened it, I knew it was important. The handwriting inside was neat, precise, almost clinical, like whoever had written it had been documenting their every thought with the same care they’d use in a lab notebook. The first few pages were filled with technical jargon—words like "climate manipulation," 'atmospheric destabilization," and "thermal acceleration" —none of which made much sense to me. But as I flipped further into the journal, the entries beca
The past will always be there” Eli said, standing up and brushing the dirt from his hands. “But it doesn’t have to own you. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you, Maya. Don’t waste it looking back.”That night, as I lay beside Ben in the small room we shared, Eli’s words echoed in my mind. I stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadows dance in the dim light of the lantern, my thoughts a tangled mess.Ben shifted beside me, his arm brushing against mine. “You okay??” he asked, his voice quiet in the darkness.I turned to face him, my heart heavy but full of something I hadn’t felt in a long time—hope. “Yeah,” I whispered. “I think I’m starting to be.”He smiled, his hand finding mine under the covers. “Eli’s a smart guy.”I laughed softly. “Yeah he is.”We lay there in silence for a while, the warmth of his hand grounding me, making me feel like maybe, just maybe, things could be okay.“You ever think about the future?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.Ben was quiet fo
I glanced at him, wiping sweat from my brow. “Yeah. It’s peaceful.”He gave a small nod, his focus still on the soil. “Peace is hard to come by these days. Harder to hold onto.”I knew what he was getting at, but I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t ready to talk about it. Not yet.Eli didn’t push, but after a few more moments of silence, he added, “You’re still carrying it, you know. The weight of everything that happened before.”I clenched my jaw, my hands pausing in the dirt. “I don’t have a choice.”“There’s always a choice,” Eli said quietly. “The past can burn you if you let it. But the future is what you make of it.”I stared at him, the words sinking in like stones dropped into a still pond. I wanted to argue, to tell him he didn’t understand, that he couldn’t possibly know the kind of guilt I carried. But then I remembered what he had told me that night by the fire—. that he had been part of Project Inferno, that he had helped design the weapon that burned the world.If anyone un
The mornings at Eli’s farm were quiet, the kind of quiet that felt almost sacred in a world like ours. No distant gunfire, no grim-faced survivors shouting orders, no smoke curling from the ruins of a settlement. just the soft rustle of wind through the crops, the occasional lowing of a cow in the distance, and the steady rhythm of our footsteps as we worked the land. The air smelled of earth and life. It was a stark contrast to the acrid tang of burning metal and ash that had seemed to cling to me for years.Here, the only smells were simple ones: the sweetness of hay, the faint iron tang of soil on my hands, and sometimes the sharp, almost medicinal scent of the herbs Eli kept hanging in the barn. It had been weeks since Ben and I arrived, stumbling through the farm’s weathered gates with nothing but the clothes on our backs and the weight of our pasts. I hadn’t planned to stay. I wasn’t even sure what had driven me to keep walking after the settlement fell apart. The idea of s
As we ate in the flickering firelight, I couldn't help but marvel at how normal it all felt. Almost like the world hadn't ended, like we were just travelers stopping at a kind stranger's house for the night. But as the evening wore on, I noticed a change in Eli's demeanor. He became quieter, more thoughtful, his gaze lingering on us in a way that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. "You two've been through a lot," he said finally, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over us. It wasn't a question. "We've seen our share," Ben replied carefully, his spoon pausing halfway to his mouth. Eli nodded, leaning back in his creaking chair. "I've seen a lot too. More than I'd like, truth be told." He paused, seeming to wrestle with something internal. "I wasn't always a farmer, you know. Before The Burning, I worked for them. The government. I was part of something... something I'm not proud of." My heart stuttered in my chest, and I felt Ben go still beside me. We'd
As we got closer, the outline of a small farmstead came into view. It was nestled against the edge of a narrow stream— miraculously still running —and surrounded by a patch of what looked like actual crops. Corn, maybe, or something that used to be corn before the world ended. The sight of growing things, of life persisting despite everything, made my throat tight with emotion."Look at that" I whispered, almost afraid to speak too loudly and break whatever spell was keeping this place alive. "Actual plants. Growing. How is this possible??"Ben shot me a cautious look, ever the pragmatist. "Could be a trap. You know how some groups operate. Make something look too good to be true, wait for desperate people to come running.""It could be," I admitted, remembering all too well the stories we'd heard about such things. "But I don't think we have much choice. We need water, and this place looks like it has it. Besides, if it were raiders, they'd probably have worse security. This place
The wasteland stretched out before us, endless and desolate, a s ea of cracked earth and skeletal trees marking the landscape as a constant reminder of the world we had lost. Despite the harshness of it all, there was something oddly freeing about being out here, away from the settlement and the ghosts of the past that haunted its walls. Out here, it was just Ben and me, two souls trying to carve out something new in the ruins of what had been.Our footsteps crunched against the dry dirt as we walked, the horizon shimmering with heat in the distance. The sun hung high and merciless in the cloudless sky, and the only sound was the wind cutting across the plains, whipping at the tattered edges of our clothes. My muscles screamed with each step, my throat parched and raw, but there was a strange kind of peace in the rhythm of walking. One foot in front of the other. Keep moving. That was the only way to survive in this broken world.I glanced over at Ben, studying his profile as he wa
He hesitated, his brow furrowing as if he were trying to find the right words. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago.” My stomach tightened. I didn’t like the sound of this. "Ben..." He stopped walking, turning to face me fully, his expression serious. "I knew about Chloe." The air seemed to leave my lungs all at once. "What....?" "I knew about her involvement in The Burning." he said, his voice steady but heavy with regret. "I....I knew before we ever got to the settlement. Before we ever found those documents." I stared at him, my mind racing. "You knew? ...how?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s a long story, but... back when we were with that other group, before we got separated, I came across some intel. I didn’t understand all of it at the time, but Chloe’s name was there, tied to Project Inferno. I didn’t know the full extent of her involvement, but I knew enough to realize she wasn’t just some random survi
I packed the last of my things into a worn canvas bag. The light was soft, almost golden, but it felt like a lie. There was nothing soft about the world we lived in now. Nothing golden about the reality we faced.I tightened the strap on my bag, my hands trembling slightly. It wasn't the weight of the bag that made me shake. It was the weight of the decision I'd made. After everything— after uncovering the truth about The Burning, after confronting Wells, after the chaos of the past few weeks— I was leaving.I couldn't stay here anymore. The settlement wasn't my home; it never had been. I had only stayed because I thought I could help. Thought I could make things right. But the more I tried, the more I realized that the answers I was searching for weren't here. They were out there, somewhere beyond the borders of this broken place.Ben was waiting for me by the gate, his silhouette dark against the pale sky. He had packed light, just like me. Neither of us had much to take. The wo
Wells' jaw tightened. “We weren’t going to let the government cover it up. My unit was sent to investigate, yes, but we weren’t loyal to the people who caused this. We wanted to expose them. To bring the truth to light.” I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow in the small room. “The truth? You think exposing the truth is going to fix any of this? It’ll destroy what little we have left. People will lose whatever faith they have in rebuilding. Civilization will collapse all over again.” Wells didn’t flinch. “People deserve to know the truth, Maya. They deserve to know what was done to them.” I shook my head, the anger giving way to exhaustion. “And what happens when they find out? What happens when they realize that their own government burned them alive, that Chloe —someone they trusted —was part of it? What do you think that’ll do to them? To us?” Wells stepped closer, her voice calm but insistent. “It’s not about what it’ll do to us. It’s about justice. About holding the people res