By the time they had walked for a couple of hours, the boy understood something clearly. Whatever had happened back at the clearing hadn’t stayed there. It was walking with them now. The group didn’t know if they understood him if—they could trust him. They were afraid of him. They continued like that for a while.

  The jungle closed around them as if it were slowly tightening its grip. Gravel shortened his lead without announcing it. Chop stayed close enough that their shoulders nearly brushed when the path narrowed. Snow no longer scanned the distance; her attention moved in sharp, deliberate cuts between trunks, undergrowth, and the people around her. Five now carried Shiela on his back again as the terrain was too rough for a wheelchair, which had been disassembled and put into her pack once more. The boy felt the change most when they stopped.

  Each pause pulled eyes toward him. No accusation. No hostility. Just quiet calculation.

  When Gravel called for water, the boy passed his canteen without being asked. When Wrighty offered him dried meat, he shook his head, the movement sending a sharp flare through his ribs. No one commented.

  His body felt heavier the longer they walked. Something had settled inside his chest and refused to shift, pressing downward with every step. Each breath dragged against it, shallow and careful. He adjusted without thinking, compensating the way he always did.

  He told no one.

  They reached a stretch where the trees spaced farther apart, the canopy thinning just enough to let pale light spill across the forest floor. The soil here was darker, damp, faintly disturbed. Knell slowed.

  “There was movement,” she said. “Recently.”

  Gravel crouched, fingers sinking into the dirt. When he lifted his hand, the soil clung longer than it should have.

  “Something passed through,” he said. “ Very large.”

  Sheath shifted his weight. “Everything here seems big.”

  The boy knelt despite the protest in his ribs and studied the ground. These aren’t footprints but they seem to be tracks. The spacing was uneven, the depth inconsistent, as if weight had shifted unpredictably.

  “It didn’t move evenly,” he said. “Whatever it was.”

  Gravel glanced at him, brief but attentive. “Meaning?”

  The boy chose his words carefully. “It was slithering, or doing something like slithering at least.”

  By midday the air thickened, heavy and damp, clinging to skin and fabric alike. Sweat collected quickly. Even so Snow still let out shivers, her breath clouded, her shoulders tense.

  Wrighty wiped his brow and glanced over. “Guess we’re all miserable now,” he muttered.

  The boy nodded faintly. Ahead, Gravel raised his fist again. This time the stop felt deliberate. The ground dipped into a shallow basin ringed by roots and stone. At its center lay something dark and uneven, pressed into the earth.

  Chop leaned forward. “ A body?”

  Snow’s arrow was already drawn. The boy felt something in his chest.

  “I don’t think so,” he said.

  Gravel approached alone, circling the shape with measured steps. The soil around it was compacted, darkened, fractured in a way that reminded the boy of cooled ash.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “What is this,” Gravel said quietly.

  Five joined him with Shiela on his back, crouching just short of the mark. He studied it without touching.

  “Something passed through,” Five said. “Not long ago.”

  The boy stood at the edge of the basin, heart steady, ribs aching. The weight in his chest shifted again, faintly responsive, as if aware of where he stood.

  Gravel straightened. “Note the direction.”

  As they turned away, the boy felt uneasy. They didn’t know what they were dealing with. He didn’t like the feeling of not knowing. After a little more exploring the group saw more and more signs of the last expedition. They were small things at first. Easy to miss if you weren’t looking for them. A snapped branch bent inward instead of out. A patch of moss scraped clean in a rough oval. A single boot print half-pressed into mud and then abruptly gone, the soil around it smooth again as if something had passed over it afterward.

  The boy noticed all of it. He didn’t point most of it out.

  Gravel did his own reading of the ground. Snow caught the higher signs—disturbed leaves, broken vines, bark peeled away at shoulder height. Eerie drifted farther ahead than before, returning more often, his eyes unfocused when he did. Chop gripped his cleaver tighter the longer they walked. Sheath said less and less.

  As they walked through the boy noticed a strange smell. The air carried a faint, stale scent that didn’t belong to rot or damp earth. It clung to the back of the throat. The boy caught it first, then noticed Wrighty wrinkle his nose, Snow shifting her grip on the bow without realizing she’d done it. They came across a final campsite just before the light began to fade. The fire pit was shallow and cold, the ash scattered instead of settled. Packs lay where they had been dropped, straps cut or torn free. One had been split open, its contents scattered in a careful arc rather than flung.

  There was no blood. No bodies. No sign of panic.

  Knell stood very still at the edge of the clearing. “I hear… nothing.”

  The boy crouched near the fire pit, fingers brushing the ash. It was compacted, pressed down hard, like something had leaned into it and stayed there. He straightened carefully.

  “They didn’t leave,” he said. “They were… taken.” But by what? It would be in my own best interest to figure it out.

  Gravel looked at the sky through the canopy, judging the thinning light. “We stop here,” he said. “Set the perimeter. Quiet camp.”

  As they worked to set up camp once more, the boy felt the attention again. The way eyes lingered a second longer than they needed to. The way space subtly adjusted around him. He didn’t blame them.

  By the time the perimeter was set and the light had drained from the jungle, the camp felt exposed. Smaller than it had any right to be. The shadows pressed closer. The sounds beyond the clearing never quite settled into a pattern. The boy sat near the edge of the firelight, club resting across his knees.

  He grabbed onto his ribs as he thought, We are close to finding them. Learning how they died will be important in furthering my own survival.

  Wrighty walked towards him and sat down with a smile on his face.

  “Hey bro, what’s on your mind?”

  The boy looked at him for a moment pondering whether he should respond and then gave a sigh. “ We are going to find them soon, I am sure. Just a lot of things have been bothering me I suppose.”

  Wrighty nodded and looked up, “is it because of that weird thing you did earlier?”

  The boy gave him a nod. Wrighty grabbed the boy’s shoulder and stared at him, eye to eye.

  “It was a little weird, but it’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong or anything, in fact, you saved my skin back there! I gotta thank you.”

  The boy kept quiet but nodded his head once more, he supposed that was a fair assessment of the situation. The two sat next to each other as Wrighty continued to talk until Snow called Wrighty’s name. As he left he gave the boy a smile and headed off towards Snow, who needed some things out of his bag.

  The boy laid down. There was so much he didn’t understand about this place. He never really got the chance to get to talk to Shiela about his situation, after all he assumed that she would understand it best, given her shield making. Five was always around her though, and despite his kind demeanor the boy didn’t like Five all that much. He didn’t like the way he talked. He looked down at his hands and felt the weight in his chest shift. What exactly was this world? Where are they? What is this feeling he’s having? Another thing that bothered him is how Gravel never threw something like he did when they first arrived. Was Gravel afraid of having these abilities? The boy didn’t have an answer to most of his questions which frustrated him more. He set his head back and studied the stars thinking of what he would do when this expedition was over.

  The jungle answered with silence.