Silvanus still remembered the day he met Leon, back when the world was only beginning to fall apart. It was in the early days of the bunker's existence, when chaos reigned on the surface, but beneath the ground, there was still a glimmer of hope.
He had been sixteen, hardened by years of watching the world deteriorate, but still holding onto some semblance of youthful naivety. His father was gone by then, lost to one of his foraging trips that never returned, and Silvanus had been left to carry the burden of survival for his family. By that time, their numbers had dwindled, food was scarce, and the people in the bunker were growing desperate.
Leon had arrived during one of the worst winters they'd experienced underground. He was a wanderer back then, a former soldier who had somehow managed to survive the devastation, making his way from one collapsing society to the next. When he arrived at the bunker's steel door, half-dead from hunger and exhaustion, Silvanus had been the one to open it.
"You're letting him in?" one of the survivors had protested. "We barely have enough for ourselves!"
"He's one man," Silvanus had argued. "He's not a threat."
They had been reluctant at first, suspicious of any outsider, but something about Leon had struck a chord with Silvanus. Maybe it was the look in his eyes—worn, haunted, but still holding a flicker of something Silvanus couldn't place. Or maybe it was just the knowledge that even after everything, they couldn't afford to lose their humanity.
After a few days of rest, Leon had proven himself invaluable. He taught them how to fortify the bunker better, how to conserve resources, and most importantly, how to fight. It hadn't taken long for Silvanus to form a bond with him—a mentor of sorts, but also a friend. Leon had filled a void that Silvanus hadn't realized was growing inside him, and for years, the two of them had worked side by side to keep the group alive.
It was Leon who had taught Silvanus the harsh reality of leadership—that sometimes, you had to make the tough choices to protect those you cared about. He had shown him how to be ruthless when necessary, but never to lose sight of what made them human. Silvanus owed a lot to Leon.
And now, Leon was gone. Sacrificing himself so the rest of them could have a chance.
---
Silvanus jolted awake, the memory of Leon's face still lingering in his mind. The oppressive silence of the desert surrounded him. Above, the sky was turning from deep blue to the pale grey of dawn. He sat up slowly, the ache in his muscles reminding him of how far they'd come.
They had taken refuge beneath a cluster of rocks the night before, using the natural formations to shield themselves from the rising heat. It wasn't much, but out here, any shelter was better than none. The others were still asleep—Marcus, Nadia, and Claire, all curled beneath tattered blankets, their faces pale from exhaustion.
For a moment, Silvanus just sat there, letting the weight of the past few days settle over him. Leon's death hung heavy on his mind. It wasn't the first time they'd lost someone close, but this was different. Leon had been more than just another survivor—he had been family, and now, the burden of leadership felt even heavier on Silvanus' shoulders.
He stood, shaking the stiffness from his legs, and made his way over to Marcus, who was already stirring.
"Time to get moving," Silvanus said softly, nudging Marcus awake. The older man blinked, his deep-set eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, but he nodded without complaint.
One by one, the others woke, their expressions grim as they prepared to continue the trek east. Silvanus didn't need to remind them that time was running out. The sun would soon be up, and with it, the deadly heat that made daytime travel almost impossible.
"How far do you think we are from the nearest bunker?" Claire asked as she packed her gear, her voice rough from fatigue.
"Hard to say," Silvanus replied, checking his map. It was an old, faded thing, barely legible after years of exposure to the elements, but it was all they had. "A few days, maybe more. But there's no guarantee we'll find anything."
"We have to keep moving," Nadia added, strapping on her backpack. "The marauders could still be tracking us."
Marcus nodded, tightening the straps on his pack. "We'll push further today, make up for lost ground."
With the last of their meager supplies gathered, they set out once more. The landscape around them had shifted into the barren, cracked earth of the eastern desert. What little vegetation had once existed was long gone, scorched away by the relentless sun, leaving behind only jagged rocks and sand. The air felt dry in Silvanus' throat, and every step seemed to take more effort than the last.
As they moved, Silvanus couldn't help but keep glancing over his shoulder. The marauders had been relentless in their pursuit, and he knew they wouldn't give up easily. They were like vultures, circling the dying remnants of humanity, preying on those too weak to fight back. The thought of Leon's sacrifice sent a fresh wave of anger through him, but he pushed it down. There was no time for grief.
The hours passed in silence, each member of the group lost in their own thoughts. The world around them was eerily quiet, the only sound the crunch of their boots on the parched ground. Occasionally, a distant gust of wind would stir the dust, but otherwise, the desert was still.
By midday, the sun was already scorching the earth, and they were forced to take shelter beneath another rocky outcropping. The heat was oppressive, making it impossible to continue without risking heatstroke. They huddled in the meager shade, rationing what little water they had left.
"We can't keep this up forever," Claire said, wiping sweat from her brow. "We need more supplies."
"I know," Silvanus replied, his voice tight with frustration. "But we don't have many options. The next bunker is our best shot."
"If it's even there," Marcus muttered darkly.
Silvanus shot him a warning glance. He knew the odds were slim, but they couldn't afford to give up. Not now.
As the afternoon wore on, Silvanus found himself thinking more and more about the future. The world they had once known was gone, but there had to be something beyond this endless cycle of survival. There had to be some remnant of hope out there, some place where they could start again.
When the sun finally dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the desert, Silvanus stood and shouldered his pack. "Let's move."
They resumed their journey under the cover of twilight, the cool night air a welcome relief after the blistering heat of the day. As they walked, the stars began to emerge, twinkling faintly in the vast, empty sky. The silence of the desert stretched out before them, but Silvanus' mind was focused on one thing: getting them to safety.
They would head east, as far as it took. There was no turning back now.
As they trudged forward, the faintest glimmer of something new sparked within Silvanus. Despite everything—despite the losses, the danger, the unknown future—there was still a flicker of hope. He didn't know what lay beyond the horizon, but he was determined to find it.