You’d think after killing the government leader of a post-apocalyptic world, that everything would just work out. Right?

Wrong.

So, so wrong.

The city was chaos, underdogs rising up against Thornblade’s guards—who seem to have no clue who to follow.

Alastor was trying to restore order but clearly wasn’t ready for his title.

The mysterious general of Thornblade’s army is rumored to be starting a war against the Eternal Holders to “make them pay”.

And on top of that—Tessa has full access to her abilities and Declan needs to strangle someone.

He almost did it to Ronan when Ro decided it’d be “funny” to put salt in Declan’s coffee.

It did not end well.

Everyone was on edge.

Ronan cracking jokes too often.

Max was stress sorting and organizing the same thing for over three hours, hands shaking, eyes locked.

River stayed closer to me much more than usual and was a lot more…touchy. Hand holding, his leg against mine, his fingers in my hair. It’s like he can’t physically not touch me.

Skylar is trying to keep everyone together but clearly going through the emotions attached with knowing her father is dead.

Tessa’s barely speaking to anyone.

And Declan’s trying to will everything to just be fixed. 

Meanwhile, I’m still stuck on the fact that Thornblade was experimenting on prisoners both human and beast, and was clearly planning something.

Even if he was dead.

I buried myself into books. Trying to find anything related to what Thornblade was doing.

I needed earbuds. I could barely focus with all the noise around me.

Declan’s pacing and dramatic sighing.

Ronan’s too-loud-laugh.

Max’s rummaging.

Skylar’s shaky breathing.

The list goes on.

I finally just got up and slipped outside.

I could keep watch for my worried crew while getting stuff done.

I slumped against the metal wall of the warehouse, sinking to the dirt and moss ground.

The forest started to grow back here where it wasn’t upkeeped.

No beasts got in, but vines scaled the Sector Walls, moss squished under our feet, and trees grew. Cocooning us in the sense of being in the woods.

It was the closest I felt to home.

I opened the book in my hands and began to read. The words seeping into me like water to desperate soil.

“Beasts were formed by a failed energy charge from the Eternal Holders. The beasts were formed from small rodents and insects—reeking havoc on the world and causing the Holders’ demise.”

It sent a shiver down my spine.

We knew the previous Holders were killed in the apocalypse, which almost seemed impossible in itself.

We weren’t ever-living—we weren’t the Eternals. But with abilities in our blood it made us much stronger and resilient than humans.

“The world as we knew it collapsed. Beasts roamed. Survivors did what they could to get resources. It wasn’t until Thornblade took upon the leadership role and began building the walls and fighting beasts—that we started hoping for a change.”

This book disgusted me. Of course Thornblade allowed this to be published in a bookstore. ‘Cause it made him seem heroic and the Holders like monsters.

But it wasn’t just good and evil.

Life’s not that simple.

“El?” I heard River say quietly behind me.

The door to the warehouse shut behind him as he sank down onto the dirt with me. He put his hand down, palm up—like a question.

I sighed, rolling my eyes but sat the book in my lap and took his hand in mine. My pale hands against his slightly darker skin.

I used to hate my hands. The paleness creeping in against my soft brown features. Like it’s a punishment I’ll always have to bare.

But River never made my marks feel like burdens.

His thumb stroked slowly against my knuckles. He kept his eyes ahead, scanning the woods like he was daring trouble to come. His dark eyes swept across the woods with an accuracy I always admired.

“What are you reading?” He asked, eyes finally meeting mine. His usual unreadable expression always puzzled me—like a book in another language, the words all completely foreign and characters unrecognizable.

“‘Bout the apocalypse.” I muttered, flipping the cover in my lap so he could see.

Most books published post-everything didn’t have titles or authors—only the subject. So all that was written on the leather cover was ‘Apocalypse” in bold letters.

I say “most books” like many have been written since the apocalypse. That’s not really true. There have been some, but they’re very hard to even get the materials to write. Then printing and copying can only be done at Thornblade’s building with permission. Only if the book follows certain rules—otherwise it cannot be duplicated.

I have plenty of books from way before the apocalypse. Sometimes I just look at the pictures inside, or read the words and try to imagine what life was like.

“You doing okay?” River snapped my thoughts back.

I nodded, tracing the bound leather spine with my fingers, my other hand still laced with his.

“Declan thinks something big is going to happen.” River murmured. “Do you think so?”

I chose my words carefully before answering.

“I think we will never be prepared enough for this. But we can get through whatever it is.”

River grinned—the same one Ronan wore too often nowadays.

“Aw, look at you being all optimistic!” He nudged his shoulder against mine, shifting his body to face me.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smile. “It’s not optimism. It’s knowing how much we’ve trained and knowing what all we’ve been through already.”

“Sure.” His face got closer, nose barely brushing against mine. He leaned in the last bit, sealing the gap of air once between us for a heartbeat that seemed to last a lifetime.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against mine, threading his fingers through my hair.

“Do…do you really think we’ll be okay?” He asked. It almost scared me to see him unsure. And part of me knew he wasn’t talking about the whole group.

He was talking about us.

“As long as neither of us dies—I think we’ll be fine.” I said quietly, trying to read his eyes like proximity would matter.

He searched my eyes like he couldn’t believe me. Then he finally gave me a small smile and leaned in for one more kiss—this one stealing my breath away.

~

I spent my afternoon packing up emergency bags to give Max a hand. Then helped Ronan braid Tessa’s hair ‘cause he was impatient.

He’s better at braiding than I thought, though.

The evening was spent going over escape routes in case patrol decided they wanted payback. We all hoped these plans weren’t needed but we all knew the possibilities.

Right now—the whole city was fending for themselves. The market was a mess of fist fights over bread and lots of patrol arrests for stealing and even homicide. 

It was kind of nice—us trying to be somewhat normal in a world of constant chaos.

We all sat in the living room close to midnight—exhausted but you could tell—we were all thankful for each other.

Skylar had a passed out Tessa in her lap. Max was watching Ronan—who was dead asleep on the cushion next to him. Declan whispering what sounded like either battle plans or gossip with River. 

I sat with my book once again—abandoned against my jeans. Kinda wishing this would never change.

~

I hate Fate.

The next morning I woke up and knew something was wrong. Like the soil beneath the building knew something was happening.

By the time I got downstairs—the tension doubled.

My throat was tight—like words couldn’t come even if I wanted them to.

Declan and Ronan was pacing—mirroring each other in a way only they could. Going back and forth in opposite directions, Ronans hair a curly mess.

Max was whispering gently to Tessa—his eyes filled with worry that didn’t match his smile.

Skylar was shoving ammo into gun cartridges with shaky hands.

River was sharpening his sword with the whetstone with way more force than necessary.

And we were all out of sync.

I didn’t ask, not yet.

I just observed as I slid into a seat at the table, grabbing an apple from the basket and taking a bite.

River poked up at me—giving me a half-smile.

No one else gave me as much as a glance—which was normal.

Eventually Declan paused his pacing, Ronan crashed into him—knocking them both out of their heads.

“Will someone explain why you two look like monsters in a cage?” Skylar asked. “You’re freaking everyone out.”

Declan let out a long sigh, glancing back at Ronan (who was occupying the floor dramatically), before answering. “We got a anonymous message on the comms this morning. We don’t know how—but Alastor and Thornblade’s army know our location. We can either surrender and secure our safety…”

“Or flee and start a war.” Ronan finished.

If my words were stuck in my throat before—now they’re in the pit of my stomach. We would be used for Alastor’s own benefit if we surrendered. But if we didn’t…we were really outnumbered.

“Okay well, first things first: we need to leave.” River said abruptly. “Even if we choose to surrender theres nothing stopping them from just blowing us all up.”

I could see the panic radiate off of Tessa instantly. Poor kid.

Declan was clearly internally battling it. Leaving the warehouse meant leaving our shelter that we’ve had for years.

But I guess we don’t really have a choice.

Declan nodded quickly. “Everyone pack necessities. We leave in an hour.”

“Where are we going to?” Skylar asked. “Patrol knows our faces and they’re crawling the city.”

Declan’s mouth went into a straight line. But eventually he spoke. “We’ll figure something out—walking the metro system to avoid unwanted attention.”

We all nodded and started moving—cautiously as if we didn’t believe this was real.

Thinking about leaving made me think of my parents, all alone in their cabin in the once-suburbs of the city, wondering if I’ll ever come home or if they’ll find out from the townspeople that I’ve been shot dead.

I shivered at the thought. Trying to focus on packing. Leaving.

I had to face the facts—we had to get out, or we have no chance of survival.