Naya's POV
Six months, where the hell had I been for six months? What happened through those periods? It didn't make any sense.
After the initial shock of the previous day, Keisha and I found a quiet corner to settle in. Our stomachs ached with emptiness, but there was little we could do but rest. She drifted into a fitful sleep quickly, her frailty etched into her every breath, while I lay awake for a while, thoughts swirling with plans for tomorrow.
Everything that happened up till this moment replayed in my head, how the whole world might be in rubbles and it was all the ascendant's authority's fault, by association, mine as well.
With that, I drifted off to sleep.
When morning broke, practicality pulled me from the haze of exhaustion. Quietly, I scavenged the surrounding area for anything useful—a bag to carry our meager belongings, scraps of clothing, and a blanket to ward off the chill.
Once prepared, I turned to Keisha, still nestled in sleep. She looked so small and fragile, her body curled up tightly, as if trying to shield herself from the harshness of the world. Gently, I shook her shoulder. "Keisha, it's time to wake up," I whispered. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, she looked lost before nodding groggily.
"We need to move," I said softly. "We'll find better shelter—and food. Just hang on a little longer." It was disheartening to see her in such a state.
For hours, we walked through the desolate streets, the sun climbing higher in the sky. Each step grew heavier with fatigue, but eventually, we stumbled upon what seemed like salvation.
A group of people loomed ahead, their vehicles monstrous, armored trucks that gleamed with practicality and menace. They had water—clear, precious water—and my cracked lips burned with longing.
Fear clawed at me as memories of unfriendly encounters resurfaced. Most strangers in this world came with sharp edges, both literal and metaphorical. But necessity had stripped me of choices.
"Stay here, Keisha," I said, my voice calm despite the anxiety bubbling beneath the surface. She nodded reluctantly, her wide eyes betraying her unease.
Approaching the group, I kept my movements deliberate, careful not to appear threatening. The closest man noticed me first—a burly figure with a rifle slung over his shoulder. He raised a brow, his lips curling into a smirk.
"Well, look what the wind blew in," he drawled. His tone was casual, but the weight of his gaze was anything but.
"I'm just looking for supplies," I said, keeping my voice steady. "For me and a friend."
The others turned their attention to me, their expressions a mix of curiosity and suspicion. One younger man narrowed his eyes, stepping closer. "What's your story?"
I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. "We've been on the road for a month. Barely any food or water. Just trying to survive." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the full truth either. Vulnerability was my best play—just enough to disarm them without making us look like easy targets.
The first man leaned in slightly, scrutinizing me with a predator's precision. "Traveling, huh? That's brave. Or stupid."
Before I could respond, I heard a yelp. Whipping around, I saw one of the men dragging Keisha toward the group. My heart dropped, and adrenaline surged as I stepped forward, my hands raised in a gesture of surrender.
"Let her go!" I shouted, my voice trembling despite my best efforts but I knew I had to defend her before she got hurt.
The man shoved Keisha toward me, and I caught her, wrapping her in a protective embrace. She clung to me, her small hands gripping my shirt tightly.
The tension was broken by the quiet man who had been watching the exchange. He tossed a bottle of water in my direction. I caught it clumsily, my heart still racing.
"Would you like to join us?" he asked, his voice steady and strangely soothing. "We're headed back to our base—there's food and more water there."
Just like that? He wanted us to join them? Are they some kind of scavengers for survivors or something?
I hesitated, my instincts screaming at me to decline. I had just escaped from a base—one that had nearly ended me. What if there's was no different? But the promise of sustenance and safety was tempting, almost overwhelmingly so.
I knelt and handed the bottle to Keisha. "Here," I said. Her eyes lit up with gratitude as she took a small sip, then offered it back to me.
"Drink," she whispered.
The gesture tugged at something deep within me. She hadn't had clean water in who knows how long, and yet she was willing to share. I took a sip, the cool liquid a balm to my parched throat.
The quiet man's voice interrupted my thoughts. "We're not going to hurt you," he said. "You'll see when we get to the base. We're just trying to survive, same as you."
His words carried a sincerity that gave me pause. Still, doubt lingered deep within my heart.
"What's the base like?" I asked cautiously.
"Safe," he replied simply. "We've got a system. Rules. It's better than being out here."
Rules. Systems. My gut twisted at the thought, but I couldn't deny the logic. The world out here was chaotic. Perhaps some semblance of order was better than nothing.
I glanced down at Keisha, her hopeful expression breaking through my reservations. "We'll join you," I said, the words heavy with uncertainty.
The need for shelter and food overrides logical reasoning. Whatever happened when we got there, we would deal with it, but for now, we needed to survive.
As we packed up to leave, another bottle of water was handed to us. I took it with a quiet nod of gratitude, but inside, my thoughts churned. This could be salvation—or it could be a trap.
I just prayed I hadn't made a mistake that would cost us everything.
Everything was our lives.