Day 63: Returning to the Past
Eli walked with purpose through the ruins, his breath steady beneath the heavy weight of the knight's helmet. He hadn't worn it for long, but the cold metal felt like a second skin now, something that kept him separate from the world. Something that protected him from his own reflection.
He'd been wandering for too long—too long in the wasteland, too long away from Luke and Cass. His body ached from the encounter with Vince's gang, and his mind buzzed with conflicting thoughts. Could he go back? Would they accept him after he'd run away, leaving them behind without a word?
"I don't even know if they're still there," Eli muttered, his voice muffled inside the helmet. "But if they are…"
The guilt from abandoning them weighed heavily on him. He hadn't wanted to be a burden, hadn't wanted to drag them down with his scars—both physical and emotional. But now, alone in the wasteland, the solitude was unbearable. Even with the helmet shielding him from the world, he couldn't shake the gnawing sense of regret.
"They deserve better," he whispered. "But maybe I can fix things."
The museum loomed ahead, its broken walls and shattered windows still standing as a testament to a world that had long since collapsed. The last time he'd been here, they had been safe—or as safe as one could be in this new world. Luke had been planning, organizing, trying to make something out of nothing. Cass had been… well, Cass had always been a mystery. Strong, sure, but haunted in a way that Eli couldn't quite understand. She had saved him more than once, pulled him out of situations that should've ended him.
And now, here he was, coming back.
As Eli approached the entrance to the museum, a sinking feeling settled in his stomach. Something was off. The faint sound of voices echoed from inside, and as he drew closer, he saw them—figures leaving the museum, moving out into the open street.
Eli's heart skipped a beat. His first thought was that it might be Luke and Cass, but a second glance dashed that hope. It was Vince and his men.
Vince's crew, bruised and bloodied from their earlier encounter with Eli, were heading out of the museum, their postures tense and angry. They hadn't seen him yet. Eli ducked behind a crumbling wall, his breath coming faster as he tried to stay out of sight.
"Damn that helmeted bastard," Tyler muttered, clutching his side where Eli's knife had struck him. "We should've killed him."
"We didn't have the numbers," Logan grunted. His jaw was swollen from where Eli had knocked him down. "He wasn't normal. I've never seen anyone fight like that."
"Doesn't matter," Vince growled, walking at the front of the group. "We'll deal with him later. Right now, we've got a bigger problem. The people in that warehouse. We're taking care of that today."
Eli's mind raced as he crouched in the shadows. So Vince had come here, but not for him. They were after Luke and Cass. His hands tightened into fists, the helmet's cold metal pressing against his brow. He'd barely been able to fight them off the first time, and now they were planning something bigger.
"I don't care how fortified they think they are," Vince continued, his voice low and dangerous. "We'll send a message. Either they start paying, or we burn them out."
Tyler chuckled darkly, though it was clear he was still nursing his wounds. "You sure they'll listen after we're done?"
"They won't have a choice," Vince snapped. "We've already wasted enough time. Five more men will meet us at the warehouse. Once we're there, we end it. No loose ends."
Eli's stomach twisted at the words. They were going after Luke and Cass. Now. If he didn't act, if he didn't warn them…
Vince and his crew passed by, unaware of Eli watching from his hiding place. His heart raced as he listened to their footsteps fade into the distance, his mind screaming at him to move, to follow them and stop whatever they were planning.
But what could he do? He wasn't invincible. He had barely held his own against Vince's group earlier, and now they had reinforcements coming. Eli's pulse pounded in his ears. His muscles ached, his hands still stung from the earlier fight, and doubt clawed at the edges of his mind.
'You can't take them all,' he thought, his fists trembling. 'You'll get yourself killed.'
But then his thoughts shifted to Luke—always the one trying to keep the group together. And Cass… she had saved him more times than he could count. Could he really stand here and do nothing while they were in danger?
"No," he muttered, standing up straight, his mind clearing with the weight of the decision. "I can't let them die because of me."
With a deep breath, Eli started toward the museum, keeping a wary eye on the distant figures of Vince and his men as they disappeared around a corner. His heart raced, but his mind was made up. He was going to warn Luke and Cass, even if it cost him everything.
As he stepped inside the museum, the once-familiar space felt eerily empty. His footsteps echoed through the large, broken halls, and the sight of the overturned furniture and debris reminded him of all the time they had spent here, trying to make it their home. But now it was abandoned.
Eli's chest tightened. They were gone.
"Where are you?" he muttered under his breath, scanning the room for any sign that they might have left a clue. His eyes flicked to the place where they used to gather, where they made plans and argued about survival. But there was nothing—no sign of recent activity, no clue to where they had gone.
Had Vince already driven them out?
Panic surged through him as he moved deeper into the museum, searching desperately for anything—any sign of life. But it was empty, abandoned like everything else in this broken world. Eli felt the weight of his failure pressing down on him like the ruins themselves.
"They're not here," he whispered, his heart sinking.
Had Luke and Cass moved to the warehouse Vince had mentioned? Eli's pulse quickened as the pieces fell into place. The warehouse. They must have gone there for safety, but now Vince and his men were on their way to destroy it, to tear down whatever defenses Luke had managed to put together.
Eli had left them to survive on their own, and now they were in more danger than ever.
He stood in the middle of the museum, his mind racing. He had to go to the warehouse. He had to warn them. If he didn't, they wouldn't stand a chance against Vince and his crew.
Eli tightened his grip on the knife at his side, his jaw set in determination. He wasn't running away this time. Not from Vince, not from his past, and not from Luke and Cass.
"I'm coming," he muttered to himself, turning and running toward the exit. His legs ached, but the pain didn't matter. He had to get there before it was too late.
With the wind howling through the empty streets and the broken city looming around him, Eli ran, the knight's helmet gleaming in the morning light as he headed toward the warehouse—and toward whatever fate awaited him there.