Gravel led the group towards a makeshift shelter.

  “We will get ready here. Grab your weapons, gather your clothes. It’s best if you get out earlier than later.”

  The group looked around the shelter. It was filled with supplies and each person had a backpack to fill. Wrighty poked around trying to find what to pack before ultimately deciding to ask the boy.

  “Yo dude, I have no clue what I should bring. This place is packed full of supplies and Gravel said we gotta pack quickly.”

  The boy nodded before heading towards the weapons section.

  “I think it would be best to get a good weapon. We don’t know what could be out there.”

  Wrighty nodded and followed him.

  After a while of picking and choosing the group finally left the tent prepared to go. The boy looked around and studied each member he’d be going with.

  Wrighty had the biggest backpack of the whole group. It seemed they made him carry all the essentials. It was filled with pots, pans, jugs filled with water, food, a couple of good fire starting rocks, and all the makeshift tents. Though Wrighty also packed stuff he wanted to bring along personally. He brought along some change of clothes, some rope, and an assortment of junk the boy couldn’t quite understand the need for. In his only hand he held a long weighted staff that he and the boy picked out. It was made of hard rock and filled with sand and its weight was so great that no one but Wrighty could use it effectively.

  Wrighty had a great smile on his face as the weight of both the staff and the backpack didn’t seem to bother him at all. His missing left arm did seem to bother him though as carrying all that stuff with one right arm and a left arm that ended at the bicep made holding it all extremely difficult.

  Wrighty’s face showed no struggle though as he just continued to laugh and smile while talking to the girl in the fur coat.

  She had her fur coat still tightly wrapped around her She had hair as white as snow and wore thick, wooly pants. Her pack was small and filled with essentials: A med kit filled with herbs and plants, Some smaller flasks of water, a handful of snacks, and a change of clothes. She had a quiver slung over her shoulder and was holding a bow in her arms. She smiled happily at Wrighty as they spoke.

  The boy turned slowly and examined the others

  The depressed looking boy was sitting on a stool looking off into the sky. He had a dark aura to him that even made the boy shiver. He had dark black hair that went to his shoulders with streaks of red mixed in. He wore a simple hoodie with shorts on. His eyes were red like blood and he had deep eye bags. His bag was set next to him and just had some water and a couple of snacks.

  Sheath had his sword sheathed and wrapped on his back. He sat around waiting and whistling a tune. He had the second largest pack filled with the essentials that didn’t fit inWrighty’s bag and some good rocks to sharpen his sword with.

  Then he saw Five, who was carrying both his and Shiela’s bags. He was talking to Shiela about something. Their bags were filled with all the items most of the bags were filled with. Five also carried a makeshift chair with shoulder straps attached to it and a vine seatbelt on his back. The boy assumed this was so he could carry her in the case he would need to while using his hands.

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  How did he build that so fast?

  As they prepared to leave the boy noticed something. The camp was quieter than it had been all morning. Not calm, just subdued. Like the forest itself was listening. Gravel stepped out of the shelter last, adjusting the strap of a worn pack over his shoulder. He scanned the group once more, eyes lingering on each face as if committing them to memory.

  “That’s everyone then,” he muttered.

  Before he could turn away, a voice called out from the edge of the clearing.

  “Wait.”

  A boy stepped forward from between two trees. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a thick scar running from his jaw down his neck. His hair was cropped short, uneven like it’d been cut with a blade instead of scissors. He carried no pack, only a slab of sharpened metal strapped across his back, more cleaver than sword.

  Gravel squinted at him. “Didn’t hear you volunteer.”

  “Didn’t think I needed to,” the boy replied. His voice was flat. “Name’s Chop. Saved three people on the shore by cutting loose debris. Figured if y’all are heading out, I’m better used there than starving’ here.”

  A few murmurs rippled through the camp. Before Gravel could answer, another figure limped into view. She was smaller, hunched slightly, with a makeshift sling wrapped tight around her arm. Her clothes were patched together from scraps of cloth and hide, and her eyes were sharp

  I’m going too,” she said quickly, before anyone could object. “Call me Knell. Folks say I’ve got a habit of hearing’ things before they happen.”

  Gravel frowned. “You’re injured.”

  Knell shrugged with her good shoulder. “Still walking. Still listening, and I don’t sleep much.”

  Gravel looked between the two newcomers, then sighed. “Damn it,” he muttered. He glanced at Five.

  Five met his gaze and gave a single, almost imperceptible nod.

  Gravel clicked his tongue. “Fine. But you slow us down, you turn back. No exceptions.”

  Chop nodded once. Knell didn’t smile, but her shoulders relaxed slightly.

  That made nine. Too many. The boy didn’t like that thought, but he didn’t argue.

  Gravel turned toward the tree line. “We move now.”

  No speeches. No goodbyes. People from the camp gathered at the edges of the clearing, watching silently. Some clutched blankets tighter. Others stared at the ground. No one waved.

  Wrighty shifted the massive pack on his shoulder and grinned anyway. “Alright,” he said, forcing cheer into his voice. “Field trip.”

  The boy didn’t respond.

  He watched Five help Shiela into the carrying harness, adjusting the straps with practiced ease. Five checked the buckles twice, then once more. As they passed the final ring of tents, the boy glanced back. The camp already felt farther away than it should have. The forest swallowed them quickly. Branches closed overhead, leaves knitting together until the light dimmed. The air grew thick and damp, every sound muffled except for footfalls and breath. Somewhere far off, something snapped, a branch, or bone.

  After several minutes, Gravel slowed and raised a fist. The group halted instantly. The boy felt it again. That expectation.

  Gravel tilted his head, listening. Then he lowered his hand slowly. “We don’t linger in one spot too long,” he whispered. “Whatever’s out there knows when folks leave safety.”

  Wrighty swallowed. “That… that’s comforting.”

  Gravel didn’t answer.

  They moved again.

  As they went deeper, the boy realized something unsettling. No one from the camp was watching anymore. There was no sound behind them. No signs of pursuit. No distant voices. The boy tightened his grip on his pack strap, ribs screaming in protest. He ignored it and as the trees closed fully around them, the boy understood something else, quietly, clearly.

  Some of them wouldn’t be coming back.