A Place in the Group
Alex stood apart from the group as they moved through the ruins, her eyes scanning every shadow for signs of danger. The night pressed in around them, thick and heavy, making every sound seem louder, every movement sharper. Despite the relief of finding other humans, she felt completely out of place.
It wasn't just the wary glances the others shot her when they thought she wasn't looking. It was the way they moved with purpose, communicating with subtle gestures and knowing looks. They were a team—tight-knit, hardened by this world. And she was the outsider, a stranger they'd reluctantly taken in. The woman who had eyed her with suspicion earlier, Hannah, hadn't stopped glaring since they'd left the alley.
Alex's stomach churned with anxiety. She kept her distance from the others, trying not to draw attention to herself, but it was hard not to feel like a burden. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Reed. He had saved her, left her, and now these people had taken her in with the same begrudging attitude. She wondered if this world had hardened everyone like that—cold, calculating, always suspicious.
As they reached a crumbling building that looked like it had once been a store, Ethan signaled for the group to stop. They moved with precision, fanning out to secure the area, rifles at the ready. Alex hung back, unsure of what she was supposed to do. She felt like dead weight, useless.
Hannah shot her another disdainful glance, muttering something under her breath. Alex's hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She wasn't helpless. She wasn't just some lost girl who needed saving. But here, in this unforgiving world, her survival instincts felt dulled. What can I even do?
Ethan returned from a quick sweep of the perimeter and nodded to the group. "We'll rest here for the night," he said, his voice low but authoritative. "Keep the noise down and stay alert."
Everyone moved with practiced efficiency, setting up a makeshift camp inside the building. Alex hesitated at the entrance, unsure where to go or what to do. The others ignored her, too busy preparing their gear and setting up a small fire.
Ethan approached her, his expression unreadable. "You okay?"
Alex nodded, but she didn't feel okay. She felt useless. "Yeah. I'm fine."
He studied her for a moment, then gestured to a spot near the fire. "You can sit with us."
It wasn't a warm invitation, but it was better than nothing. Alex moved to the fire, sitting on the cold, hard floor with her back against the wall. The flames flickered between them, casting shadows on the rough stone walls. The heat felt good against her skin, but the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.
The others avoided talking to her, their conversations hushed and filled with words she didn't understand. They spoke in code, in the language of survivors, something she wasn't part of.
What am I even doing here? Alex thought bitterly. They don't trust me, and I don't blame them.
Hannah's voice cut through the silence. "You sure bringing her along is a good idea?" she asked, not bothering to lower her voice. "She could slow us down."
Alex's face burned, but she said nothing. She didn't want to start a fight, especially not with someone like Hannah, who clearly had no patience for outsiders.
Ethan's gaze flicked to Alex before returning to Hannah. "We'll see," he said simply, his tone neutral. "For now, she stays."
Hannah looked like she wanted to argue, but she held her tongue. Alex's heart sank a little further. She was a temporary addition to their group, someone they were waiting to deem either useful or expendable. It didn't matter that Ethan had given her a chance. The truth was, she hadn't earned their trust. Not yet.
The next morning, Alex woke to the sound of rustling gear and whispered conversations. She sat up, wincing as her muscles protested. Sleeping on the cold floor had done her no favors. The others were already packing up, moving with quiet efficiency. Alex stood, unsure of what to do, but Ethan caught her eye and nodded toward a pack near the door.
"You can carry that," he said. "It's not too heavy."
Alex nodded and slung the pack over her shoulder, grateful to have something to do. The weight of it was reassuring—a reminder that she wasn't completely useless. But as they set out again, weaving through the labyrinth of ruined streets, the doubts crept back in. What did she really have to offer this group?
They were skilled. They knew how to survive in this place. And she… well, she'd survived so far, but only because of luck. Reed had saved her, and now Ethan's group had taken her in, but she hadn't done anything to deserve it. What good was she to them?
Her mind raced, searching for answers. Back in her old life—if that's even real anymore—she'd spent hours playing strategy games, immersing herself in the intricacies of tactics and problem-solving. But this wasn't a game. This was life and death, and no amount of gaming experience could change that.
Or could it?
As they continued, Alex began to pay more attention to their surroundings. She watched the way Ethan led them, the way he directed the group with subtle gestures. They moved like a unit, always aware of each other's positions, always watching for danger. It was almost like a team in one of her games, each person playing a role, each move calculated to maximize their chances of survival.
The realization hit her suddenly: this was a strategy game. A deadly, real-life version, but the principles were the same. Resources were limited, enemies were unpredictable, and survival depended on making the right choices at the right time.
Her mind shifted gears, analyzing their movements, their decisions. They were good, no doubt about it, but there were weaknesses in their formation. Blind spots, moments of hesitation, places where they could be ambushed. Her gaming instincts kicked in, mapping out strategies, thinking ahead.
"Wait," Alex said suddenly, her voice louder than she intended.
The group stopped, turning to look at her. Hannah's eyes narrowed with suspicion, but Ethan simply raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to speak.
Alex swallowed, her throat dry. "There's a better way through here," she said, gesturing to the alley on their left. "If we go that way, we'll have more cover. It's narrower, so if anything comes after us, we can bottleneck them."
Hannah scoffed, but Ethan considered her suggestion. He glanced down the alley, then back at her. "You sure?"
Alex nodded, her pulse quickening. "It's what I'd do in a game like this. Smaller spaces give us more control over the fight. Less chance of getting surrounded."
For a moment, Ethan didn't say anything. Then, to Alex's surprise, he nodded. "Alright. We'll take the alley."
Hannah muttered something under her breath, clearly displeased, but the group followed Ethan's lead. They moved into the narrow alley, and Alex felt a surge of pride. She wasn't completely useless. Maybe she could contribute after all.
As they made their way through the alley, the atmosphere felt different. Alex noticed the others glancing at her, not with the same wariness as before, but with something closer to curiosity. Even Hannah's glare had softened slightly—though she still kept her distance.
The alley route proved effective. They avoided several open areas that would have left them vulnerable, and Alex could feel the tension in the group ease a little. When they reached their next checkpoint, a ruined apartment building they used for shelter, Ethan gave her a nod of approval.
"Good call," he said simply.
Alex smiled, a small flicker of warmth spreading through her chest. It wasn't much, but it was something. Maybe she wasn't as out of place as she thought.
Over the next few days, Alex continued to prove her worth. She used her strategic mind to help the group navigate tricky situations, pointing out safer routes, suggesting better ways to set up camp, and even helping them plan ambushes on the creatures that roamed the ruins. Each time, Ethan listened to her, and slowly, the others began to trust her more.
But despite the growing acceptance, Alex couldn't shake the feeling that she didn't belong. These people were survivors—fighters. They'd been through hell and come out the other side, scarred but alive. She was just a gamer, someone who'd stumbled into this nightmare by accident.
Every night, as they sat around the fire, Alex would stare into the flames, lost in her thoughts. She doubted herself constantly. Am I really helping? Or am I just pretending?
One night, as the fire crackled softly and the others drifted into sleep, Ethan sat down beside her. He didn't say anything at first, just stared into the flames with a thoughtful expression.
"You've done good these past few days," he said finally, his voice quiet. "The others are starting to trust you."
Alex glanced at him, surprised by the compliment. "Thanks. But… I still feel out of place."
Ethan turned to look at her, his eyes serious. "That's normal. Everyone feels that way at first. But you're earning your place. You've got a sharp mind, and that's just as important as any weapon."
Alex smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I just don't want to be a burden."
"You're not," Ethan said firmly. "And if anyone gives you trouble, they answer to me."
His words hung in the air, a promise. Alex felt a strange sense of relief, knowing that despite her doubts, someone believed in her. Maybe, just maybe, she had a place here after all.