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 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
It started with the smell. A strange and suffocating thickness in the air that clung to the back of my throat, like I’d swallowed dirt. I remember stepping out of the hospital after a long shift, the Seattle skyline stretching out in front of me, and feeling like something was wrong. The sky was a dull gray, not the usual drizzle or overcast we were used to. This was darker, heavier. I called Chloe. "Hey, are you seeing this?" I asked, squinting up at the murky sky. "Seeing what?" Chloe’s voice came through, light and distracted. She was probably painting or working on one of her sculptures. She had an artist's mind, always somewhere else. I glanced at my watch. 3:15 PM. Too early for the sun to set but too dark to be anything normal. "The sky, it’s... weird." I couldn’t put it into words at the time. Not that it would’ve mattered. Words wouldn’t have saved us. "Relax, Maya. Probably wildfires again. You know how summers have been the last few years. I’ll be fine." I’ll be fine.
The world after The Burning was quiet. Too quiet. No more cars rumbling down streets, no more planes humming overhead. No more constant hum of humanity. Just ash and silence. I moved through the ruins of a small town, my feet crunching over broken glass and charred debris. The once vibrant town was now just a skeleton, its buildings blackened and hollowed out, like they’d been picked clean by vultures. The air was thick with the smell of burnt wood and decay, and every breath tasted like dust. I pulled my scarf tighter around my face, trying to keep out the worst of it. It didn’t help much. The ash was everywhere, in everything. It had become a part of me now. The town had been called Ridgeway—I’d seen the half-burnt sign at the outskirts. It didn’t look like anyone had been here in months, maybe longer. The fires had swept through, and whatever had survived the flames had been looted or ransacked. Still, I needed food, water, something. Anything. I ducked into what used to be a
"Come on, man," he said, voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Ain’t no need to make this harder than it has to be. Just hand over whatever you got, and we might let you walk away." The father didn’t move. His hands were shaking, but he stood his ground. "Please," the mother begged, clutching her daughter tighter. "We don’t have much. Just… just let us go." The raider leader’s smirk widened. "See, now that’s where you’re wrong. You got everything we need." I couldn’t wait any longer. I moved quickly, darting out from behind a pile of rubble and swinging the pipe at the closest raider’s head. The impact was sickening, a dull thunk as his skull cracked. He dropped to the ground, unconscious or dead, I didn’t care which. I grabbed his knife before it hit the ground, spinning to face the others. For a moment, there was stunned silence. The raiders hadn’t expected anyone to fight back. "Who the hell—" the leader started, but I didn’t give him a chance to finish. I lunged at him, swing
I don’t know how long I lay there, staring at that dog tag. Long enough for the blood on my face to dry and my muscles to start aching with exhaustion. Long enough for the numbness to set in, pushing the pain down into some deep place I couldn't reach. Ben Cross. The name was burned into my brain now, seared into my thoughts like the image of Chloe’s face the last time I saw her. Ben. The man I had heard about on the radio, the one who was supposedly dead. The one I hadn’t seen since The Burning. I wanted to throw the dog tag into the dirt, to forget I had ever seen it, but my fingers clutched it tightly, as if it was the last solid thing left in the world. I didn’t know what it meant—whether Ben was alive, dead, or something worse—but I knew one thing for certain: I had to find out. The next few days were a blur of walking and survival. The road south stretched out before me, an endless ribbon of cracked asphalt and choking dust. I had no real destination, just a vague rumor
I gripped the knife at my side, my mind racing. What were my options? I could run, try to lose them in the ruins, but I wasn’t sure I had the energy for that. And if they had a vehicle stashed somewhere, running would just get me killed faster. I could hide, wait for them to pass, but that didn’t feel right either. No, if they were after me, they wouldn’t just pass by. They’d find me eventually. Which left one option. I could confront them. probably.... I waited a little longer, watching as the figure grew closer. They weren’t in a hurry, moving at a steady, measured pace. I didn’t see any weapons, but that didn’t mean much. Anyone who had survived this long had something up their sleeve. My heart pounded in my chest as I stood up, gripping the knife tightly in my hand. I stepped out from behind the wall and started walking back toward them, each step deliberate, my senses on high alert. The distance between us closed slowly, painfully slowly, and every second felt like an ete
Suddenly, I heard it—a faint sound, like the scuffle of feet on concrete. I froze, my hand going to the knife at my belt. Ben heard it too. He straightened, his body tensed, his eyes scanning the store. "Someone’s here," I whispered, my voice barely audible. Ben didn’t respond, but his eyes flicked toward the back of the store, where the sound had come from. He motioned for me to follow, and we moved together, silently, our backs pressed against the shelves as we crept down the aisle. We reached the end of the aisle, and Ben peered around the corner, his rifle raised. I held my breath, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure whoeverr was there would hear it. Then, without warning, Ben lunged forward, grabbing someone by the collar and slamming them into the wall. A man—a scrawny, wild-eyed survivor—gasped in surprise, his hands going up in surrender. "Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!" he begged, his voice trembling. Ben didn’t lower his rifle. "Were you following us?" he growled,
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