Day 37: Counting Down
The fire's flickering light danced over the crumbling walls, casting long, jittery shadows across the ruined building where the group had settled for the night. The stranger sat apart from the others, curled into herself against the cold, cracked wall. Her heart hadn't stopped racing since they had caught her earlier in the day, but now, in the stillness of the night, the silence felt even heavier.
She didn't trust them. And they certainly didn't trust her.
Their eyes had been on her all day, even when they pretended otherwise. Cass, with her unreadable gaze and cold control, always seemed to know where she was. Eli and Luke, meanwhile, kept her pinned between them at every moment, keeping her in the center of their formation like she was something dangerous—or worse, something expendable.
She wasn't a fool. They would kill her if they thought she was a threat.
She pulled her knees to her chest, letting her arms wrap around her legs as she stared into the fire. She was exhausted, but her mind wouldn't let her sleep. The tension, the fear of making a wrong move, weighed her down like a physical burden. She could feel the unspoken questions swirling in the air: Who are you? What are you hiding? They wanted answers, but she didn't have any that would satisfy them.
At least, none that would make them trust her.
She had tried to explain herself—to tell them that she wasn't a threat, that she had just been trying to survive. But they didn't believe her. Why would they? She had been following them, spying on them. She had heard their plans about the rain, about the dangers to come. She knew too much now, and that made her a liability.
She glanced toward Cass, who was sitting by the entrance, her back straight, her eyes constantly scanning the ruins outside. The woman barely looked at her, but the stranger knew Cass was always watching, always ready. There was a coldness to her, a calculation that sent shivers down her spine. Cass wasn't like Eli or Luke—there was something in her that felt more dangerous. Less human.
As the fire crackled softly, the stranger allowed herself to rest her head against the wall, trying to let the exhaustion wash over her. But just as her eyes fluttered shut, she heard it—soft, almost too quiet to notice.
Cass's voice, whispering in the darkness.
"Nine… eight… seven…"
The stranger's heart skipped a beat. She opened her eyes, straining to hear more clearly. Cass was counting, her voice barely more than a breath, but it was steady, methodical. It wasn't the kind of counting you did absentmindedly; it was deliberate.
"Six… five…"
The stranger froze, her pulse quickening. She kept her breathing shallow, making sure not to make a sound. What was Cass counting down to?
"Four… three…"
Days, the stranger realized suddenly, a cold chill creeping over her. Cass was counting down days. The rain. The acid rain. The woman had heard them talking about it before—about the storm that would fall for a full day and melt anything it touched. But now, hearing Cass counting the days aloud made it feel more real. More immediate.
"Two… one…"
The countdown sent a wave of unease through her. What happened when Cass reached zero?
Cass stopped, her voice trailing off into the silence. The stranger felt a knot form in her stomach, a growing fear gnawing at her insides. Why isn't she telling the others about this countdown? If Cass knew exactly when the rain was coming, why wasn't she warning them? Was she preparing them for something more than just survival?
The stranger's breath caught in her throat. There's something else. There had to be.
She shifted slightly, careful not to draw attention to herself. Her eyes darted to Eli and Luke, who were asleep—or at least pretending to be. Cass sat as still as stone, her eyes focused on the entrance, as though she hadn't just whispered something chilling into the dark.
I need to figure out what she's planning, the stranger thought, her heart racing. Cass knew more than she was letting on, and whatever was coming—it was coming fast.
Her mind raced with possibilities, each one worse than the last. The acid rain wasn't just some random storm; it was part of something bigger. And now, she was stuck in the middle of it, surrounded by people who didn't trust her, people who would kill her if they thought she was a threat.
The stranger tried to calm herself, taking slow, steady breaths. Think, she told herself. You're still alive, and as long as you stay useful, they'll keep you that way.
But how long would that last? And when the rain came—when the world changed again—what would happen to her then?
She closed her eyes, trying to push the fear down. She needed to stay alert, stay cautious. If Cass was counting down to something catastrophic, she needed to be ready. Ready to run, ready to hide—whatever it took to survive.
Because in this world, trust was a luxury she couldn't afford.
And as Cass continued to watch the entrance, silent and cold, the stranger knew one thing for certain:
She was running out of time.