The Unknown

xlii. return

We walked.

And walked.

And walked.

The forests became a dull, indistinguishable blur of brown. My blistered feet bled through my shoes, and, by the end of each day, my lungs felt tired of breathing.

No matter how fast we pushed ourselves, taking as few breaks as possible, the winter descended upon us faster and faster. Its bitter cold was like a knife stabbing into the marrow of my bones, sinking deeper every day.

Then we hit our first major obstacle.

As we scaled a steep hill, a winding expanse of river came into view, its blue waters slicing through the terrain below.

Like the city's tall fence, it was a barrier impeding our progress. The water would be icy—impossible to swim across without freezing to death. We'd have to walk along its banks, taking us miles out of our way, with the hope of eventually finding an abandoned bridge that looked safe enough to cross.

Near the water's edge, the frigid wind whipped and stung my face.

Kyle stopped beside me but did not speak. He was pale, his lips dry and cracked. It had become rare to ever see him without pain deep in his eyes, and he was always stooped slightly like he was supporting some invisible weight. He didn't like to discuss his condition at all anymore, shutting down completely whenever it was brought up.

To make matters worse, I'd witnessed Shaun's crippling headaches and Zara's fits of violent coughing, both of which were terrifying.

And I hadn't told anyone, but I was also beginning to feel a strange pressure behind my eyes, on the verge of pain.

That evening, we started a campfire like usual. Shaun had pocketed a lighter in the city, so all we had to do was collect dead leaves and dry grass to ignite, then enough sticks and logs to sustain the flames.

Matt and Shaun left to gather what food they could, and Zara boiled water over the fire in a pot she'd taken from her parents' house. That left me and Kyle to sit by the fire for a short rest. It felt almost dizzying not to be in motion—like the world was too still.

Slowly, my bones thawed as I lay with my head resting against Kyle's stomach.

"Do you think we made the right choice?" I said. "Leaving the city instead of staying, I mean."

"No one can say for sure," he said distantly, like he was lost in some faraway thought. I tilted my head to steal a glance at his face. He was staring into the fire, a reflection of its erratic flames dancing on his pupils.

"I wasn't expecting such a...bleak answer," I said, "but you're right."

He nodded slowly. "I think it's time to start being more realistic."

I took his hand in mine. He didn't resist as I folded his calloused fingers into a fist. "But you've got to have hope. You have to believe there's a chance everything will work out...even if there isn't. Otherwise, how can you keep going?"

"Maybe...you don't."

***

That night, I couldn't sleep, all of my worries bouncing around relentlessly in my skull. So I lay awake, staring at the galaxies above and trying to focus solely on breathing.

Then, under the muted sigh of wind through the trees, there was a distant rhythmic crackling. Instantly, I was certain it was the crunch of leaves under human footsteps.

I sat up, listening closely. The sound continued faintly, audible only when the breeze abated.

I had to be dreaming.

It was absurd to think that anyone would be out there. It was a wasteland. It wouldn't even be worth the city's time and resources to hunt us so far.

Beside me, Kyle snored softly, the firelight flickering over his figure. He looked more youthful, the creases of stress erased from his relaxed face. To my left, Shaun and Matt lay motionless apart from the slow breathing of sleep.

I was awake. But maybe it was a hallucination—another addition to the list of strange symptoms we'd all been having. Instead of horrible pain...maybe I would lose my mind.

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Zara met my gaze from across the flames. Her eyes were open wide. She'd heard the sound too. It was real.

It had been her shift to stay awake and tend to the fire. Matt had remarked about how keeping watch was no longer necessary because we were so far from civilization. He'd been wrong.

The footsteps were getting louder.

I motioned for Zara to stay silent, pressing my index finger to my lips. She nodded, then turned her head to scour the shadowy trees.

I reached out and clutched Kyle's arm. He made a kind of sleep-disturbed groan.

My pulse jumped as I realized we wouldn't have time to get up and run. Our unannounced visitor was rapidly approaching while we sat like sitting ducks, the fire probably advertising our location for miles like a beacon.

Then the figure appeared in the trees to our right, silhouetted by the moon. The noise ceased.

I held my breath and sunk down next to Kyle. He blinked rapidly, his eyes following mine to where our visitor had halted at the treeline.

"I'm dreaming, right?" Matt's shaky whisper came from my left.

Dark, waist-length hair swayed eerily as the figure's head moved slowly from left to right, scanning the area.

Kyle scrambled, trying to push himself upright but falling against me. The silhouette's face trained on our movement, the starlight glinting on its exposed teeth—lips stretched into a smile.

"Friends," said a low but feminine voice. "I'm so happy to see you again." Jade stepped into the small clearing where we sat, her face awash with moonlight.