Day 27: A Question of Time
They moved quietly through the ruins, the silence between them heavy, punctuated only by the occasional creak of shifting rubble or the distant call of a creature they could not see. The sky had dimmed into a deep, bruised purple, the ever-present red hue making everything look strange and distorted. It was difficult to keep track of time in this shattered world. Hours felt like days, and days blurred into nights with little distinction.
Eli couldn't remember the last time he had seen a sunrise. Everything had become a blur of running, hiding, and fighting to survive. The small shelter they found the night before—an abandoned, crumbling building—offered only minimal protection, but at least it was enough for them to rest.
The wind had picked up again, carrying with it the smell of decay that seemed to cling to every part of the ruined city. Eli and Luke had scavenged what they could from the building, finding little more than some half-rotted supplies and the tattered clothes Eli now wore. They all felt the weight of the unknown pulling at them, but none of them voiced their fears.
As they moved further from the infected zone, Luke's voice suddenly cut through the silence.
"Hey," he said, breaking their quiet trek. "What day is it?"
Eli frowned, glancing at Luke, who was wiping the sweat from his brow. "What do you mean?"
Luke shrugged, his expression thoughtful. "I mean… how long has it been since everything ended? Since… the world, I guess."
The question hung in the air, and Eli realized he hadn't thought about it for a long time. It was hard to keep track of time when every day felt like an endless fight for survival. He couldn't remember the last time he had actually wondered about the passing of days, let alone asked the question aloud.
"I don't know," Eli admitted after a moment. "Feels like forever."
Luke nodded, his face thoughtful, but it was Cass's voice that cut through the conversation like a blade.
"116 days," she said flatly.
Both Eli and Luke turned to her, surprise etched on their faces. Cass had been walking slightly ahead, her limp slowing her down but her focus unwavering. She didn't look at them as she spoke, her gaze still fixed on the path ahead.
"It's been 116 days since it happened. Since the world ended."
Eli blinked, his mouth dry. 116 days. Almost four months. He had lost track after the first few weeks, the constant danger and exhaustion blurring the days together. But Cass had been counting.
"You're sure?" Luke asked, his voice uncertain.
Cass didn't hesitate. "I'm sure."
Eli exchanged a glance with Luke, a heavy silence falling over them once more. Cass had always seemed to know more than she let on—more about the creatures, the ruins, how to survive. But keeping track of the exact number of days since the world had fallen apart? That was something else entirely.
"Why does it matter?" Eli asked quietly, though the question wasn't directed at anyone in particular.
Cass didn't respond. She simply kept moving, her eyes scanning the horizon as if looking for the next threat, her expression unreadable. Eli couldn't shake the feeling that there was something she wasn't telling them—something she had been holding onto since the beginning.
The rest of their journey that day was silent, the weight of Cass's answer pressing down on them like a storm cloud. By the time they found a small, half-collapsed building to take shelter in for the night, Eli's mind was buzzing with questions he wasn't sure he wanted answers to.
The night passed uneventfully, the darkness outside their shelter thick and oppressive, but no creatures disturbed their rest. Eli had drifted into an uneasy sleep, his dreams filled with images of the infected creatures they had seen, of the man begging to be killed, and of the swordsman, his massive blade cutting through the air with deadly precision.
But something else lingered at the edges of his mind—the number Cass had given them. 116 days. And the way she had said it, so certain, so immediate, made him wonder what else she knew. Why had she been counting so carefully?
Eli lay in silence, staring up at the cracked ceiling of their makeshift shelter. His body ached from the days of constant movement, but his mind refused to settle. Cass's answer from the day before—116 days—still weighed heavily on him. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to it, something Cass wasn't telling them. Her certainty about how long it had been since the world ended wasn't just impressive—it was unsettling.
The shelter was quiet, the faintest glow of morning light filtering through the cracks in the walls. Luke snored softly nearby, his body draped across a pile of debris they had cleared to make room for sleep. Cass, however, was already awake. She hadn't slept long, but that wasn't unusual. She rarely seemed to rest for more than a couple of hours at a time, as if sleep were a luxury she couldn't afford.
Eli turned his head toward her. She was sitting near the entrance, her back to him, her body tense as she stared out into the ruins. The red sky above was a dull shade of purple now, the rising sun doing little to ease the eerie glow that hung over the world like a curse.
That's when he heard her.
Cass's voice, low and barely above a whisper, drifting through the quiet morning air. She was talking to herself, but her words were clear.
"One hundred and seventeen," she said, her voice almost robotic, like she had repeated the number a thousand times. "Fifteen more to go."
Eli's heart skipped a beat. He froze, holding his breath, trying to process what he had just heard. Fifteen more to go? His mind raced. What was she counting down to? What was happening in fifteen days?
Before he could even begin to make sense of it, Cass spoke again.
"No," she muttered, almost angrily. "Twenty-seven. It's twenty-seven."
Eli's stomach twisted, a sudden unease spreading through him. Why had she corrected herself so quickly? And what did she mean by fifteen more to go? The numbers seemed to mean something to her, something she hadn't told them.
He shifted slightly, making a small noise as he did. Cass's head snapped toward him, her eyes sharp and alert. For a brief moment, their gazes met, and Eli could see a flicker of something—fear, perhaps, or guilt—flash across her face. But just as quickly, she buried it beneath her usual calm.
"You're awake," she said, her voice steady, though her eyes remained guarded.
Eli sat up slowly, careful not to wake Luke. "Yeah," he replied, his voice still thick with sleep. "I couldn't stay asleep for long."
Cass gave a short nod, but her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer than usual, as if she was trying to gauge whether he had overheard her. Eli kept his expression neutral, pretending he hadn't heard anything.
"You should rest more," she said quietly, turning back toward the ruined landscape outside. "We have a long day ahead of us."
Eli watched her carefully, his mind still racing. He wanted to ask her about what he had overheard, about what she was counting down to, but something in her posture made him hesitate. Cass had always been a closed book, her emotions tightly guarded. Pushing her too soon could make her retreat even further.
Instead, he shifted the conversation. "You said it's been 116 days," he said, his voice casual, but his eyes never leaving her. "I didn't realize you were counting."
Cass's back stiffened slightly, though she didn't turn to face him. "It's important to know how long it's been," she said evenly. "Time matters. Even now."
Eli tilted his head, curious but careful not to push too hard. "Does it help? Knowing the exact number of days?"
Cass was silent for a moment, her shoulders tense. Then, in a quieter voice, she answered, "It keeps me grounded. Reminds me that there's still something to hold on to." She paused, then added, almost as an afterthought, "It helps me focus."
Eli felt a pang of guilt. He had always assumed Cass was unshakable, that nothing could touch her. But now, seeing her like this—so intent on keeping track of time, so rigid in her routines—he realized that maybe she was just as afraid of losing control as the rest of them.
"So, it's been 117 now?" Eli asked, feigning innocence as he tested whether she would correct him again.
Cass didn't hesitate. "Twenty-seven," she corrected, her voice sharper this time. "It's been twenty-seven days since we came to this part of the city."
Eli nodded, though his mind latched onto the shift in numbers. Twenty-seven days here, she had said. But she hadn't corrected her earlier count of 117 since the world ended. There were layers to her timeline, parts she was keeping track of that she hadn't shared.
He wanted to ask more, wanted to press her, but he knew better. Cass wasn't going to open up if she didn't want to. Not yet.
They sat in silence for a few moments, the weight of the world pressing down on them as the red sky grew brighter with the approach of morning. Eli glanced at Luke, still sleeping, and wondered how long they could keep going like this. Every day was a fight for survival, every night a desperate scramble for safety. And yet, here Cass was, counting down the days as if something was about to happen—something that had her on edge.
Eli shifted his gaze back to Cass, her form silhouetted against the ruined landscape. She seemed so sure of herself, so controlled, but the cracks were starting to show. Whatever was coming in fifteen days—or twenty-seven—was clearly on her mind.
And Eli was starting to think that whatever it was, it wasn't good.
The day wore on uneventfully, the three of them walking in tense silence as they moved through the barren ruins, always searching for shelter, for food, for anything that might keep them alive. The landscape around them seemed to grow more desolate with each passing hour, the twisted remains of the city stretching endlessly before them.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Eli couldn't shake the feeling that they were running out of time. Cass had said fifteen more days—or twenty-seven, depending on how she was counting—and that thought gnawed at him. He didn't know what it meant, but it felt important.
That night, as they settled into another abandoned building to rest, Eli lay awake, listening to the soft rustle of the wind through the cracks in the walls. Luke had already fallen asleep, his quiet snores filling the small space.
But Cass remained awake, sitting near the entrance just as she had the night before. Eli watched her from his spot on the ground, his mind racing.
Fifteen more to go.
Whatever it was, Eli knew they were getting closer to it. And he wasn't sure if they were ready for what was coming.