The endless march east was wearing on Silvanus and his group. The sun, now an unforgiving god of heat and death, ruled the daylight hours. They had learned to respect it, to move only when it slept behind the horizon. The east had offered no real respite—only miles of cracked earth, skeletal trees, and a wasteland of abandoned ruins. But they couldn't stop. Not with marauders on their heels and supplies dwindling.
Their nights were spent trudging through the desolate world, avoiding cities as much as possible. Silvanus knew the dangers that lurked in the darkened streets—looters, marauders, and worse, desperate survivors who had given up on their humanity long ago.
As they moved farther east, the terrain began to shift again. The barren flats gave way to scattered remnants of civilization, the crumbling shells of old buildings rising up like tombstones in a forgotten graveyard. They hadn't seen another living soul in days, which Silvanus found both comforting and unsettling. The quiet was deceptive; in this world, danger was never far behind.
It was near dawn, and the faint glow on the horizon signaled that it was time to find shelter. The nights, though cooler, were still exhausting. Claire was limping slightly, her left leg favoring a twisted ankle from the uneven ground, while Nadia's eyes were sunken from lack of sleep. Marcus, as usual, moved with silent endurance, but even he seemed drained. The journey was taking its toll.
"We need to find a place to rest," Silvanus said, glancing back at the group. His voice was steady, but inside he felt the gnawing worry of their dwindling time. They needed water soon. Food was almost gone.
"There's something up ahead," Marcus called, pointing toward a collapsed structure. The twisted metal beams and concrete rubble were unmistakable—it had once been part of a subway system.
"A subway station," Silvanus murmured. He approached cautiously, his rifle at the ready. Subways were ideal for avoiding the sun, but they were also perfect hiding spots for anyone—or anything—trying to escape the daylight.
"Good enough for a few hours of rest," Nadia said, wiping sweat from her forehead. "If it's safe."
"Let's find out," Silvanus replied.
The group descended into the entrance of the subway, navigating through broken turnstiles and down a flight of cracked stairs. The air grew cooler the deeper they went, a welcome reprieve from the heat, but it also brought with it a damp, musty smell. Silvanus kept his rifle raised, scanning the shadows for any movement. The dim light from their flashlights cut through the gloom, casting long shadows across the debris-strewn floor.
At the bottom of the stairs, they found the old platform. It stretched out into darkness, the rails rusted and covered in dust. Pieces of the ceiling had crumbled onto the tracks, and broken advertisements from a forgotten time clung to the walls.
"Stay close," Silvanus whispered, motioning for the others to fan out and search the area. Marcus took the left, Claire and Nadia the right, while Silvanus moved forward, his eyes scanning every corner.
As he stepped toward the edge of the platform, something caught his ear—a faint noise, barely audible over the sound of their own footsteps. He froze, listening intently.
There it was again. A rustling sound, like fabric brushing against concrete.
Silvanus raised his hand, signaling for the others to stop. They all froze, their eyes locking on him, waiting. He moved quietly toward the source of the sound, stepping carefully over debris until he reached the far end of the platform. There, hidden in the shadows, were two figures huddled together.
"Show yourselves," Silvanus commanded, his voice firm but not aggressive. He kept his rifle pointed at the ground, but ready to lift at a moment's notice.
The two figures stirred. Slowly, one of them stood up—a young man, no older than his mid-twenties, his face pale and gaunt. Beside him, still crouched on the ground, was a girl, much younger, perhaps in her early teens. Both looked frightened, their eyes wide in the dim light.
"We're not looking for trouble," the young man said quickly, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. "We're just hiding from the sun."
Silvanus hesitated for a moment, then lowered his weapon slightly. He could see the fear in their eyes, and something about their ragged appearance told him they were no threat. Survivors, just like them.
"We're not marauders," Silvanus said. "We're just passing through."
The young man let out a breath of relief, lowering his hands. "Neither are we. My name's Luke, and this is my sister, Anna."
At that, the girl—Anna—stood up as well, though she remained half-hidden behind her brother. Her face was smudged with dirt, and her clothes were tattered, but her eyes were sharp and alert, constantly watching Silvanus and the others.
Marcus approached cautiously, his eyes narrowing as he studied the two newcomers. "How long have you been down here?"
"A few days," Luke replied, glancing nervously at Marcus. "We've been trying to stay out of sight. It's not safe up there anymore."
Nadia stepped forward, folding her arms. "Where are you heading?"
Luke hesitated, then shook his head. "Nowhere, really. Just trying to survive."
"Same as us," Silvanus said, though he could sense there was more to Luke's story. People didn't wander the wasteland without some destination in mind, even if it was a desperate hope.
"We're headed east," Silvanus continued. "You're welcome to come with us, but I won't lie—it's dangerous, and we don't have much in the way of supplies."
Luke exchanged a look with his sister, then nodded slowly. "If it's all the same to you, we'll stay here for now. But we appreciate the offer."
Anna tugged at her brother's sleeve, her voice soft but insistent. "Luke…"
Luke knelt down beside her, speaking quietly in her ear. Silvanus couldn't hear what they were saying, but the tension between the siblings was clear. After a moment, Luke stood up again, his expression conflicted.
"We don't want to slow you down," he said. "But Anna thinks we should at least help you rest up while you're here. We've got some water—more than we need, really."
Nadia's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You've got extra water?"
Luke nodded. "We found an old storage tank a few miles west of here, buried under some rubble. It's still clean, for the most part. We filled up our bottles, but we can't carry much."
Silvanus exchanged a look with the rest of his group. It was a rare offer, especially in these times, and one they couldn't afford to pass up.
"We'd appreciate that," Silvanus said, though he remained cautious. Generosity was hard to come by these days, and there was always a catch. But something about Luke and Anna seemed genuine, like they were just trying to survive like everyone else.
Luke led them to a small alcove near the platform, where they had set up a makeshift camp. It wasn't much—just a few blankets spread out on the floor, along with some empty cans and bottles—but it was better than the open wasteland. Anna handed each of them a bottle of water, and Silvanus could feel the tension ease slightly as they sat down to rest.
"So what's your story?" Marcus asked after a while, breaking the silence. He took a long drink from his water bottle, his eyes fixed on Luke.
Luke leaned back against the wall, running a hand through his unkempt hair. "We were part of a larger group, a community in one of the cities to the west. Things were… okay for a while. We had shelter, food, even some form of organization. But then the heat got worse, and people started fighting over resources. Eventually, the marauders found us. They overran the place, took what they wanted, and left the rest to die."
His voice grew bitter as he spoke, and Anna looked down at her hands, clearly reliving the trauma of their past. "We barely escaped with our lives. Since then, we've been moving from place to place, trying to stay ahead of the sun—and the people who hunt in the dark."
Silvanus listened carefully, his mind processing the information. It was a familiar story, one he had heard from countless other survivors. The world had fallen into chaos, and communities that once thrived were now ghost towns, picked clean by marauders and scavengers.
"Why haven't you headed east?" Silvanus asked. "There are rumors of other bunkers out there, places that might still have supplies."
Luke shrugged, his expression dark. "We've heard the same rumors, but we don't have the strength to make the journey. And honestly… I'm not sure I believe in those bunkers anymore. It's been years since anyone's heard from them."
Silvanus nodded. He couldn't blame Luke for his skepticism. Hope was a fragile thing in this world, easily crushed by the harsh realities of survival. But Silvanus couldn't let himself fall into that same despair. He had to believe that there was something out there, some place where they could start again.
"We can't stay here much longer," Silvanus said, standing up and glancing toward the entrance of the subway.