Reid led us through the forest, Lucas trailing behind him.
Not long ago, I might have been in Reid's place—or at least Lucas's. But we all suffer the consequences of our actions.
Cayne sighed. So be it.
Moving as one, we kept our fastest possible pace. It still wasn't good enough.
I could have pointed it out, but I held back.
I wasn't in the mood for another round of verbal and emotional attacks.
Yesterday's death still lingered in everyone's minds. They moved sluggishly, dark circles under their eyes. Every rustle made them flinch, every shadow scrutinized like a lurking threat.
I could commend their vigilance—if only they realized we were racing against time.
After a grueling, frustrating journey, we reached the river. I exhaled in relief.
Crossing was the easy part. There was always the risk of getting swept away, but we took the chance without hesitation.
On the other side, we turned to Lucas, the so-called leader for this part of the journey. He stiffened before clearing his throat.
"How about we camp nearby? We won't cover much distance before nightfall."
I glanced at the sky—the evening sun painted everything in hues of orange.
Just as I opened my mouth to respond, a bold, rough voice cut through.
"Yes, it's already evening. Traveling in a large group at night isn't safe. I've scouted a campsite nearby," Reid announced with authority.
Everyone nodded in agreement.
No one even considered my opinion.
I scrunched my nose but stayed silent. Reid threw me a side-eye before leading the group into the forest.
I never intended to form bonds with these people. They were never worth my trust. So, their actions shouldn't bother me.
But they do.
I despise that look, Reid.
And I loathe how easily they turn their backs after everything I've done for them.
Ungrateful.
Unforgivable.
A dark grin crept onto my face. Chuckling softly, I followed them.
.......
A bonfire crackled in the center of our makeshift camp.
Sitting before it, I tossed in wooden branches at regular intervals, watching the flames devour them.
The wood popped and splintered, sending tiny embers into the night.
A rustling sound caught my attention. Not a beast. I relaxed.
Lucas appeared, settling beside me—closer than expected.
Silence stretched between us, only the crackling fire filling the space.
Then, he spoke.
"They don't like you," he said bluntly. "I'm not saying you should care, but trust, once broken, rarely mends."
A pause.
Then, in a quieter voice, "You should move on, Cayne. Leave this group behind. With your skills, you'll thrive anywhere."
I stopped tossing wood.
Turning to him, I smirked. "Is this a recruitment offer?"
My voice held both jest and warning. "You do know my reputation, right? Are you sure you want a suspected murderer in your ranks?"
Lucas hesitated, considering his words carefully.
"I believe what happened between you and them is none of my concern," he finally said, his tone even.
"This world rewards strength. If the other guy was strong enough, I'd be talking to him instead. But he's not. And you're still here."
I was impressed.
Nodding, I said, "Fine. I'll join you. In fact, I look forward to meeting your leader."
Lucas beamed, pleased with my response.
We spoke a little longer before my shift ended. I stood and walked away.
Left alone, Lucas replayed our conversation, something about it gnawing at him.
There was a strange weight in my words—a subtle, unsettling undertone.
He couldn't pinpoint why, but something felt off.
If only he knew.
He had just invited a serpent into his den. And one day, he might regret it.
Seven days passed.
The journey was uneventful. Minor dangers, nothing worth mentioning. According to Lucas, the route was already explored.
He turned out to be a skilled fighter. Eventually, he shared a bit of his past.
A butler, trained for combat.
An unusual combination, but his expertise was evident.
He kept the rest of his history to himself.
Smart.
In this world, keeping your skills secret was key to survival.
The group trudged on, exhausted. The sun bore down, the air thick with humidity.
Then, a chilly breeze cut through the heat.
Strange.
A gust swept past, sending a shiver down my spine.
Ahead, we heard movement—lots of it. Our pace quickened, and soon, a large gathering came into view.
The rendezvous point was bustling with people.
Lucas's team had done their job well. Including us, about forty people had been gathered.
If Riverdale Village could absorb this many at once, it was already beyond the early survival phase.
Of course, there were surely stronger settlements elsewhere.
The real question was—where?
Lucas left to join his team, a group of seven similarly dressed individuals.
Not as successful as him, it seemed. Our early grouping and sheer luck had given us an advantage.
After a brief discussion, he returned.
"We're leaving soon," he announced. "You were the last group to arrive."
Moments later, a large raft glided toward us on the river.
It stopped at the shore, far sturdier and more refined than anything we had built.
I admired its craftsmanship as I stepped aboard.
Lucas, it turned out, was the leader of his group. Talk about privilege.
Settling in, I examined the raft. No comparison to ours—it was leagues ahead.
Anticipation welled up inside me.
The river here was rougher. Strong currents slammed against the raft, making it lurch and tremble beneath us.
The others clung to whatever they could, tense with fear.
I laughed.
This was dangerous. All the bottled feelings I had were released.
Perfect.
I moved to the edge, letting the water splash against me.
Another massive jolt sent the raft shaking violently. Screams erupted around me.
I only laughed louder.
The others pointed at me, calling me insane.
What do they know?
This—this is life.
When you lose control, most people scream. But a few? A rare few embrace the chaos.
I aspire to be one of them.
A madman dancing in the storm.