The blizzard was quieter now, its ferocity reduced to a low, restless murmur that pressed against Lucy's ears. Snow drifted in swirling patterns across the frozen wasteland, its fine grains shimmering faintly in the dim light. Lucy squinted against the endless white, her scarf pulled high over her nose, leaving only her frostbitten cheeks exposed to the biting wind. Every step felt like a battle as her boots sank into the snow, the icy weight clinging to her legs.
Behind her, Alex stumbled again, nearly falling face-first into the drifts. His muttered curses barely carried over the wind, but Lucy could hear the frustration in his tone.
"Careful," she called back, turning briefly to check on him.
"I'm trying," he grumbled, yanking his scarf back into place. It was too big, much like the goggles perched on his head, which kept slipping down to obscure his vision. Fourteen years old and still figuring out how to manage his lanky frame, Alex was struggling against the snow as much as the cold. "This snow's impossible. It's like walking through cement."
"You'll get used to it," Lucy said. She turned back to face the horizon, her eyes scanning for their destination. "And stop complaining. We're almost there."
"That's what you said an hour ago," Alex shot back, his voice muffled by the scarf he was now wrestling with. "We've been 'almost there' for hours."
Lucy sighed, adjusting her own scarf. She was too tired to argue. The truth was, the map their father had left behind didn't offer precise distances, just landmarks and vague instructions. If the signal tower wasn't where she thought it would be, they were in trouble.
Boy, their golden retriever, bounded through the snow beside Alex, seemingly unbothered by the storm. His golden coat was dusted with frost, and his breath formed cheerful puffs in the air. His tail wagged with relentless optimism, as if the entire frozen wasteland was a playground meant for him alone.
"Maybe you should take notes from Boy," Lucy said, nodding toward the dog. "At least he's not complaining."
"He's got four legs. That's cheating," Alex muttered, but his lips twitched, almost forming a smile.
Ahead of them, Casper darted through the snow with the ease of a creature that didn't seem to belong to the physical world at all. The black cat's lean body skimmed over the drifts, his pawprints barely visible in his wake. His green eyes glinted, sharp and calculating, as he reached the top of a small snowbank and froze.
Lucy stopped immediately. Casper was always alert, but this stillness—his ears flattened and his tail flicking—meant something. She felt her pulse quicken as she called out to him.
"What is it?" Her voice carried a note of urgency.
Casper didn't respond with his usual soft chirp or purr. Instead, he yowled—a sharp, guttural sound that sent shivers through Lucy's spine. He crouched lower, his tail swishing rhythmically as his gaze stayed locked on the horizon.
"Lucy," Alex said from behind her, his voice quieter now. "What's he looking at?"
She raised a hand to silence him and stepped forward, her boots crunching against the snow. She followed Casper's line of sight, squinting through the haze of the blizzard. For a moment, she saw nothing—just endless gray and white, the sky and ground blurring into one. Then, slowly, the shape emerged: a jagged silhouette piercing the horizon.
"There it is," Lucy breathed, relief and tension swirling together in her chest. The signal tower.
It stood precariously, its rusted frame leaning to one side as if buckling under the weight of years of frost and neglect. For as long as she could remember, these towers had been silent sentinels across the frozen landscape, relics of a time when communication linked people across distances. Now, this one was their last hope of finding their family.
Alex reached her side, his breath puffing out in heavy bursts. He pushed his goggles up to his forehead and squinted at the structure. "That's it? I thought it'd be... taller."
"It doesn't need to be tall. It just needs to work," Lucy said, her tone clipped. Her eyes remained fixed on the tower as she scanned the surrounding area. Snowdrifts curled around its base, untouched by recent movement. Still, something felt... wrong.
Boy barked once, bounding ahead toward the tower. His tail wagged furiously, oblivious to the tension thickening in the air. Casper, on the other hand, slipped back toward Lucy, his fur bristling. His green eyes darted to the tower, then to the horizon, and finally back to her.
Lucy rested a hand on the hilt of her knife, concealed beneath her coat. The metal was cold through the layers of fabric, but its weight grounded her. "Stay close," she said, her voice low. "Something's not right."
---
The wind shifted as they neared the base of the tower, carrying with it a metallic tang that set Lucy's nerves on edge. The snow here was deeper, burying the tower's lower beams in thick drifts. The structure itself groaned faintly, the sound of metal straining against the icy grip of time.
Lucy's boots crunched loudly as she stepped closer, each sound amplified in the stillness. She felt Alex linger behind her, his breathing quickening.
"Lucy," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look."
She turned, following the direction of his outstretched hand. Her stomach lurched. There, half-buried in the snow, was a body. The figure was facedown, their limbs twisted unnaturally, their coat torn wide open. A dark, frozen stain spread out beneath them.
Raiders.
The thought hit her with cold clarity. She stepped closer, her hand gripping her knife tightly as her eyes scanned the area. The snow had covered any tracks, but the body told her enough. Raiders rarely left their victims without stripping them of anything valuable. If they'd left this man untouched, it meant one of two things: they were interrupted—or they were still nearby.
"Inside," Lucy said sharply, her voice firm.
Alex hesitated, his eyes fixed on the body. "Do you think—"
"Inside. Now."
Her tone left no room for argument. Alex grabbed Boy's collar and hurried toward the tower's shadow. Casper followed, his tail low, his movements quick and deliberate. Lucy stayed back for a moment longer, her heart hammering as her eyes swept the empty horizon.
The wind howled around her, carrying nothing but the sound of her own breathing. She tightened her grip on the knife and turned toward the tower.
---
The air inside the tower was no warmer than the storm outside. Frost clung to the walls like a second skin, and the remnants of broken glass and rusted metal littered the floor. Snow had blown in through shattered windows, forming uneven drifts that glimmered faintly in the faint light. The space smelled of rust and decay, the metallic tang sharp and pervasive.
"Stay close," Lucy said again as she stepped cautiously inside. Her voice echoed faintly in the empty space.
Alex stayed just a few steps behind her, his wide eyes darting to every shadow. Boy pressed against his side, his ears swiveling with every groan of the wind against the structure. Casper disappeared into the darkness, his green eyes glowing faintly as he darted between the scattered rubble.
Lucy pulled her flashlight from her pack, the beam cutting through the gloom. The main control room would be at the top of the tower—assuming it was still intact. She motioned for Alex to stay by the doorway as she approached the narrow staircase winding upward. Each step groaned under her weight, the sound sending shivers down her spine.
At the top, the door to the control room hung ajar, swaying slightly with each gust of wind. Lucy hesitated, her knife still gripped tightly in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open with her shoulder.
---
The door creaked as Lucy pushed it open, the sound amplified in the hollow silence of the control room. Her flashlight's beam swept across the space, revealing a room frozen in time and ice. Frost clung to every surface, turning shattered screens and tangled wires into eerie sculptures. Snow had blown in through a cracked window, pooling in uneven drifts across the floor.
Lucy stepped inside cautiously, her boots crunching against broken glass. Her hand stayed on her knife as she scanned the room, her gaze lingering on the rusted remains of old consoles. Most of them were beyond repair—monitors shattered, buttons missing—but one in the center of the room caught her attention. The dials and switches were intact, though they were crusted with frost.
"Alex," she called softly, her voice carrying down the narrow staircase. "Come up. Bring the pack."
She turned back to the console as she heard his boots clanging against the metal steps. Her heart was racing, though she forced herself to breathe slowly. This was their only chance. If the equipment didn't work, the journey here would've been for nothing.
Alex appeared in the doorway, his face pale but determined. Boy trotted in beside him, his tail wagging cautiously as he sniffed at the air.
"Does it work?" Alex asked, setting down the pack.
Lucy didn't answer right away. She crouched by the console, brushing away the frost with numb fingers. The cold bit into her skin even through her gloves, but she ignored it, focusing on the task in front of her. Flipping a few switches, she waited, her breath catching in her throat.
The machine groaned faintly, and a low hum vibrated through the floor. The sound cut through the oppressive silence like a lifeline.
"It's alive," Alex whispered, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"Not yet," Lucy muttered. Static crackled from a speaker on the console, sharp and uneven, but unmistakably alive. She twisted one of the dials, her fingers trembling slightly. The static shifted, warbling and breaking apart, until a faint, garbled voice emerged.
"…storm… moving south… rail line…"
The words were distorted, broken by bursts of static, but Lucy's heart leapt. A lead. A real lead. She leaned closer to the console, as if proximity might clarify the transmission, but the voice cut off abruptly, leaving only the hiss of static behind.
Alex's eyes were wide, his hands gripping the edges of the console. "South. The rail line. That has to be them, right? Mom and Dad?"
Lucy didn't respond immediately. Her mind raced as she tried to piece together the fragments of the message. South meant danger. The rail line wasn't just a direction—it was a path known to be infested with raiders and buried under relentless storms. But it was also their only chance.
"It's a start," Lucy said finally, her voice steady. "If they've been near the rail line, we might be able to track them."
Alex nodded, his expression flickering between hope and fear. "We have to go, then. Before the storm gets worse."
"Not so fast." Lucy held up a hand, her attention snapping to Boy. The dog's ears had perked up, his body tense. A low growl rumbled in his throat, and his gaze was fixed on the doorway.
Casper appeared from the shadows, his tail puffed and his green eyes sharp as they darted toward the stairs. His claws scraped softly against the metal floor, a sound that sent shivers down Lucy's spine.
"What's wrong with them?" Alex asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"Shh," Lucy hissed, her grip tightening on her knife. She strained her ears, listening past the static still crackling faintly from the console. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of her own heartbeat. Then, faintly, she heard it.
Footsteps.
Deliberate. Heavy. Growing louder as they climbed the staircase.
---
Lucy motioned for Alex to move behind her, and he obeyed without hesitation, pulling Boy with him. Casper darted to a high ledge, his body coiled tightly as he stared at the door.
The footsteps stopped just outside the room. Lucy held her breath, her knife steady in her hand. A shadow shifted in the doorway, and a figure stepped into the control room.
They were tall and broad-shouldered, their face hidden behind a scarf and hood caked with snow. Their coat was patched and frayed at the edges, and a shotgun was slung across their back. The figure paused, their gloved hand resting near the weapon, and tilted their head slightly as they took in the scene.
"Well," the stranger said, their voice low and gravelly. "Didn't think I'd find anyone here."
Lucy didn't lower her knife. "We're just passing through," she said, her voice firm but calm. "We don't want trouble."
The stranger chuckled, the sound dry and humorless. "Trouble finds you, whether you want it or not." They shifted their weight, their posture relaxed but watchful. "This tower's ours. You're trespassing."
"We didn't know," Lucy replied. Her grip on the knife didn't falter. "We needed the signal. That's all."
The stranger's gaze shifted to the humming console. "You find anything?" they asked, their tone casual but laced with curiosity.
"Nothing that concerns you," Lucy said sharply.
"Fair enough," the stranger said. They took a step closer, and Boy growled loudly, baring his teeth. The stranger stopped, raising their hands in mock surrender. "Easy. I'm not here to pick a fight."
"Then leave," Lucy said. "We're done here."
The stranger's eyes narrowed, studying her for a moment before their gaze flicked to Alex. "You're heading south, aren't you?" they asked, their tone shifting to something colder. "Toward the rail line."
Lucy's stomach twisted, but she didn't respond.
The stranger sighed and lowered their hand from the shotgun. "Then you're either brave or stupid. Raiders've been swarming the rail line for weeks. And with the storm moving that way, you'll be buried alive before they even get the chance to kill you."
"We'll take our chances," Lucy said evenly.
"Suit yourself." The stranger stepped back toward the door but hesitated. "There's a bunker near the highway, about half a day's trek south of here. It's not much, but it'll give you shelter from the worst of the storm. If you're smart, you'll stop there."
Lucy's grip on her knife tightened. "Why do you care?"
The stranger shrugged. "I don't," they said. "But you've got kids and a couple of animals. Doesn't seem right to let you walk into a death trap."
They turned and disappeared down the staircase, their footsteps fading into the distance. Lucy stayed frozen for a long moment, her ears straining for any sign of their return. When she was sure they were gone, she lowered her knife.
----
Alex broke the silence first. "Do you think they were telling the truth?"
Lucy didn't answer right away. She powered down the console, silencing the static, and turned to face him. His wide eyes were filled with questions she didn't have the answers to.
"Does it matter?" she said finally. "We don't have a choice. The rail line is our only lead."
"But the raiders—"
"We'll deal with them if we have to," Lucy said firmly. She glanced toward the door, her grip tightening on the hilt of her knife. "Get your things. We're leaving."
Alex nodded hesitantly and knelt to repack their supplies. Boy sat beside him, his tail wagging faintly now that the tension had eased. Casper jumped down from his perch, rubbing against Lucy's leg as if to reassure her.
The storm outside howled louder, rattling the walls of the tower. Lucy adjusted her scarf, steeling herself against the cold. They had no choice but to move forward—into the storm, into danger.
Their family was out there. Somewhere. And nothing would stop her from finding them.
---
The cold bit harder as they stepped out of the tower, the storm having thickened during their brief respite inside. The wind screamed around them, sending snow whipping through the air in blinding gusts. Lucy tugged her scarf higher over her face, leaving only her eyes exposed. The chill cut through her layers, sharp and unrelenting.
"Stick close," she said, her voice muffled but firm. She glanced back to make sure Alex was following, his goggles fogged and his scarf slipping down again. Boy trotted beside him, his tail low but wagging slightly, as if to reassure himself. Casper perched on Lucy's shoulder, his lean body pressed against her neck for warmth.
Alex tightened his grip on Boy's leash. "This storm's worse than before," he said, his voice trembling. "Do you think we'll even be able to find the rail line?"
"We don't have a choice," Lucy replied, scanning the horizon. The stranger's warning about raiders played over in her mind, but there wasn't time to second-guess. The message on the console had been clear—south, toward the rail line. It was the first real lead they'd had in years, and she wasn't about to let fear hold her back.
"Stay close to the landmarks," she added. She pulled out the map from her coat, the edges stiff with frost. Her father's careful sketches showed a route that followed the remnants of an old highway. "If we keep to the path, we'll reach the rail line before the worst of the storm hits."
"Hopefully," Alex muttered, pulling his scarf tighter. "That's a big if."
"It's all we've got," Lucy said, tucking the map away. She adjusted the straps of her pack and took a steadying breath. "Let's go."
---
The snow was knee-deep in places, and every step felt like a struggle against an invisible weight. The landmarks were faint, almost erased by the storm's fury. A crumbling overpass loomed in the distance, its jagged edges protruding from a mound of snow like a skeletal hand. Beyond it, the faint remains of the highway stretched southward, barely visible beneath the drifts.
Lucy led the way, her eyes scanning the ground for any signs of tracks. The raiders the stranger had warned about could be anywhere, and the blizzard made it nearly impossible to hear anything beyond the howling wind.
Alex trudged behind her, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. "Do you think Mom and Dad were here?" he asked suddenly, his voice cracking. "Do you think they followed this path?"
"They might have," Lucy said, though she wasn't sure. She couldn't afford to let doubt creep in—not now, when they were so close to their first real clue in years. "If they did, we'll find their trail."
The overpass grew larger as they approached, its shadow stretching across the snow. Lucy slowed, her knife already in her hand. She motioned for Alex to stop and crouched low, studying the area. The snow was disturbed here, faint impressions barely visible in the drifts. Tracks.
"Something's been through here recently," she said, her voice low.
"Raiders?" Alex asked, his eyes widening.
Lucy didn't answer. She signaled for him to stay back as she crept closer, Boy staying by her side. Casper leapt from her shoulder, landing soundlessly on the snow. The tracks led under the overpass, disappearing into the shadows.
She crouched low and peered beneath the structure. The remains of an old vehicle sat buried in the snow, its frame rusted and broken. Nearby, a small firepit had been dug into the ground, the ashes still warm.
"They were here," Lucy murmured, her grip tightening on the knife. "Not long ago."
Alex joined her, his footsteps careful. "Do you think they're coming back?"
"Maybe." Lucy straightened, her mind racing. "We need to keep moving. If they're ahead of us, we can't let them see us."
---
They moved quickly, the urgency spurring them forward despite the cold gnawing at their limbs. The snow fell harder now, thick and relentless, erasing their tracks almost as soon as they made them. Boy barked softly, his ears flicking back and forth as he sniffed the air. Casper stayed close to Lucy, his fur bristling.
The first sign of danger came with a faint crunch of snow behind them.
Lucy froze, her heart leaping into her throat. She turned slowly, her knife already in hand. Through the haze of the storm, she saw movement—dark shapes emerging from the white, their forms growing clearer with every step.
"Raiders," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the wind.
Alex's eyes widened, and he grabbed Boy's collar instinctively. "What do we do?"
"Get down," Lucy said, her voice firm but calm. She crouched behind a snowbank, pulling Alex down with her. Boy followed, his body tense, his growl low and steady. Casper hissed, his green eyes locked on the approaching figures.
There were three of them, their silhouettes tall and broad. They moved with purpose, their weapons slung across their backs. Lucy's breath came in shallow bursts as she watched them pass, her grip on her knife so tight her knuckles ached. She counted the seconds in her head, willing them to keep moving.
But one of them stopped.
The figure turned, their head tilting as they scanned the area. Lucy's pulse thundered in her ears as the raider took a step closer, their hand moving to the weapon on their hip. Boy's growl grew louder, and Lucy pressed a hand to his muzzle, trying to silence him.
The raider stepped closer, their boots crunching in the snow. Lucy held her breath, her heart hammering against her ribs. If they were found, there would be no escape. She glanced at Alex, who was trembling beside her, his eyes locked on the approaching figure.
A sudden howl cut through the storm, sharp and mournful. The raider froze, their head snapping toward the sound. For a moment, they seemed to hesitate, and then, without a word, they turned back toward their group and disappeared into the blizzard.
Lucy exhaled slowly, her body shaking with the release of tension. She waited until the crunch of their footsteps faded completely before rising to her feet.
"Are they gone?" Alex asked, his voice shaking.
"For now," Lucy said. She glanced toward the direction the raiders had gone, her stomach churning. "But we can't stay here. We need to move. Fast."
---
The storm grew fiercer as they pushed southward, the wind howling like a living thing. Lucy kept her head low, her eyes fixed on the faint outline of the highway ahead. They followed its curve, moving as quickly as the snow would allow, until they reached the bunker the stranger had mentioned.
It was hidden beneath a mound of snow, its entrance barely visible. Lucy brushed away the frost with trembling hands, revealing a rusted metal hatch. She pulled it open, the hinges screeching in protest, and motioned for Alex to go inside.
The air inside was stale and cold, but it was a relief to be out of the storm. The bunker was small, its walls lined with shelves that held a few cans of food and a rusted lantern. Lucy lit it, the faint glow casting long shadows across the cramped space.
Alex collapsed onto the floor, pulling Boy close. The golden retriever curled up beside him, his tail wagging weakly. Casper leapt onto a shelf, his green eyes watching Lucy as she searched the bunker.
"It's not much," Alex said, his voice hoarse. "But it's better than being out there."
Lucy nodded, though her mind was already on the next step. The rail line was close, but the raiders were closer. They couldn't stay long.
"We'll rest here for the night," she said, her tone firm. "At first light, we move."