Chapter 10: Lost Roads

Outskirts of La Quilla South

06:00:00hrs

The path between the South and the North was as noisy as the roads in the town they were leaving behind, used exclusively for trade and tourism in the region. Seeing a vehicle outside that category was considered a shooting star in the firmament; a privilege for the most fortunate.

Each province of the nation operated largely self-sufficiently, which consequently meant that little importance was placed on roads that connected long distances. In a province as introverted as La Quilla, this was even more evident.

The distance between the two parts of the province exceeded 100 kilometers. Under optimal conditions, traveling in the truck would help them reach the North in some hours; however, the brittle roads and the terrain covered in roots and potholes would increase that number fivefold.

Pulling back the blanket over his head, Gitta looked out at the dawn sky; a saffron blue, obscuring the mountains in the distance, and a glimmer of light filtering through branches.

It had only been a few hours since they arrived, but for some reason he felt… refreshed. Even sleeping without removing his full plate armor must have caused him some physical discomfort, yet he felt lighter than before. Replicas are improved and adapted versions of medieval-inspired weapons and armor, modernized for modern-day competition, but they shouldn't be so convenient.

He realized the oddity of the situation as he opened and closed his hand, noticing at the same time that one of his gauntlets was still deeply dented on the outside.

Proof that it had all really happened.

Gitta: …

He fretted at the thought, so he sat up quickly and looked around.

He was in the bed of the truck, surrounded by people and supply containers. Some unknown, others not, like Haeri, his traveling companion, who was still sleeping on the side of the bed between the sheets.

The others were still asleep; their bodies curled up in awkward positions, their breaths shallow and labored with exhaustion.

Carefully, Gitta took a natural breath and looked around once more, removing his helmet.

They were in the middle of a dense forest, gigantic enough to obscure the view of the horizon.

The light brown trees were mostly dry, with only withered leaves occasionally falling to a grayish soil floor between the abundant, thick roots. The density came from their massive numbers. Although they had thin trunks, they multiplied hundreds of times, forming natural barriers in multiple directions.

No snow at all, just a white forest.

However, the truck lay adjacent to a clearing; a space with less vegetation. And to one side of it, a small cabin. A few meters away, among the twisted trunks and undergrowth, stood this forgotten structure, half-hidden by the shadows of the forest. Its silhouette was harsh and rough, with worn planks that seemed on the verge of collapse. This place blended perfectly with the surrounding environment.

Something about it sent a chill through the young man. It wasn't just its appearance, but the feeling that, at any other time, he would have walked right past it without even noticing.

Gitta: (…I have no choice.)

Normally, he wouldn't go near a gruesome place like that; however, he urgently needed to use the toilet, and he wouldn't risk doing it behind a tree where anyone present could wake up at any moment.

With one last glance at his sleeping companions, he stood up and took slow, careful steps toward the cabin.

He opened the swinging doors and closed them behind him.

The blackened wood and the ceiling showed signs of neglect. It was a small space, just enough for a few people to stand without feeling too cramped. There was a worn wooden table with a layer of dust on its surface, surrounded by small benches of the same material.

In one corner, a makeshift fireplace, dark with soot, with ashes scattered from old fires.

And in the other, an enclosed space—a rudimentary bathroom, which he headed for without a second thought.

The place didn't look like it had been used for a while, but it didn't have any obvious signs of recent use either. There was no reason to look for an owner when it was clear the place was used as a rest stop for travelers.

It wasn't a perfect shelter, much less compared to the previous one, but at least it would serve its purpose.

The boy quickly entered the claustrophobic bathroom.

In his haste, he hadn't noticed that the front door had been opened behind him.

Gitta: (…How do I remove the parts?) —he thought while checking his waist in all the sections, which was adjusted by several sashes and locks— (I can't... Tsk).

Haeri: Hey, Gitta.

Gitta: Guh! —he jumped forward, quickly turning around.

A black eye peeked through the crack in the bathroom door. He immediately recognized the brown hair surrounding it.

Gitta: Haeri... —He sighed heavily— you scared me.

Haeri: Did you almost wet yourself?

Gitta: Almost, actually.

The girl gave a wicked smile from under her hood.

Haeri: Heh, I thought it was weird how long it took you to get out of here. Well, I'll go...

Gitta: Wait, Haeri... I need your help, urgently —he muttered.

Haeri: ...What?

Gitta: Hurry. Go in and close the door.

Haeri: U-Uh... ¿Okay...? Uhm…

The minutes passed.

When the pair crossed the threshold into the open air, the dawn light clearly hit their eyes, still unprepared for it. The distant birdsong began to be heard.

A few feet away, the other members of the group were already on their feet, shaking off the stiffness of sleep and rubbing their arms to dispel the chill of the early morning. Some were chatting in the truck, others were exploring the surrounding trees.

The sound of footsteps broke the early morning torpor; the young Izzy was accompanied by another member of the group, Xiomara, who, with a furrowed brow and a hardened expression of distrust, approached them while adjusting her wool cap over her blond hair.

Xiomara: …Please don't disappear without warning. It's dangerous.

She tried to be firm, but she seemed a little uncomfortable at the same time.

Gitta: Of course. I apologize.

Xiomara: …

Gitta: ¿?

Xiomara: Why… are you still wearing your armor?

Gitta: I lost my outfit during the incident.

Xiomara: Earlene is going through the containers. Maybe we can find something for you, and Haeri.

They both nodded. Although Haeri couldn't ignore the silent Izzy, watching her walk away without a word.

Haeri: …

With that, Xiomara turned and walked back to the rest of the group without further ado. The conversation was over quickly. The two survivors stayed behind for a few seconds, watching the women walk away.

Gitta: Haeri?

Haeri: Oh, yeah, let's go.

After all, they now had to decide what their next move would be as a group.

The group slowly gathered around the cabin, forming a makeshift semicircle on the white earthy floor.

More than twenty people, some standing, others leaning against logs with their arms crossed, watched each other cautiously. They had survived the same night, fled the same hell, but they still didn't consider themselves a group; mostly strangers brought together by circumstances, and distrust was palpable in their closed postures.

Jevo: I shall keep watch.

The bandaged boy was the first to speak. With a monocular in his hand, he headed to the nearby cabin in search of a way to climb to a high place and survey the surroundings.

The next, taking a deep breath beforehand, was Garwin. He cleared his throat and stood up, his tall, thick build drawing the attention of those present as he always did.

Garwin: I'd like to take this moment to introduce ourselves once more. We'll be together at least for this trip; we need to know who we are and who we can count on —he said—. It would be good to start with your names, hobbies, what expectations you have of all this... things like that, alright?

Several members nodded slightly.

Garwin: I'll be the first. My name is Garwin Stanford, my friends call me Gar. And like them, I'm from a suburb on the outskirts of Menestra Province. Yes, very far from here —he added—. Before this disaster, I spent my time training, practicing football, attending school and church. My expectations are to overcome this crisis, to keep the mind focused on that before thinking about anything else.

Some looked away, uncomfortable with the idea of ​​exposing themselves. It reminded them of elementary school.

Garwin: Next up... We'd better do it in order on my right.

Sein: Uh, me —he adjusted his black bangs and his beach pants.

Like Garwin, he stood tall, although his personality didn't generate the same confidence and authority that the first one emanated.

Sein: M-My name is Sein Deakin. I shared the same apartment as Garwin, and I also played football in high school. I... I don't know what's going on or why. I really just want to go back to school and finish my studies in electronics. I think that's all there is to it, yeah, I think.

He resumed his seat, satisfied with his answer, and attention shifted to a thin woman with dark brown hair, loose and unkempt.

She took a second before speaking and cleared her tired eyes.

Nerina: My name is Nerina Luna. Well, it's a bit sad, but I only worked day and night in the office we were in, as an accounting assistant. That office is now completely derelict anyway, so… now I'm an unemployed grown woman, I guess.

The younger ones laughed, trying to follow the supposed joke.

Nerina: And I hope it stays that way. I hated that place.

Winslow: Understandable —the next one said— If I may...

A middle-aged man. His clothing consisted of a black triangular-collared vest paired with tight pants. One could easily guess what his profession was.

Winslow: Winslow Terrier. Guess what I do —he scratched his head, which was wrapped in long blond hair— That's right, I'm an artist. A musician. In fact, my last performance was at the La Qosta Hotel. Although, to be honest, things haven't been going so well lately.

He shrugged his shoulders, disinterested, with a wry smile.

Winslow: Whether we're in the midst of the apocalypse or not wouldn't change the fact that I'd be eating crumbs —he gave a subtle bow before sitting back down— it’s a pleasure.

Robert: And what a magnificent show you gave at my hotel.

Winslow: I appreciate it.

The next one would be the owner of the hotel in La Quilla Sur.

Robert: My name is Robert Anderson. And this is my family, my wife Julia and my daughter Gwen Anderson —he held them both by the shoulders.

Julia: A pleasure...

The woman just nodded with her head bowed. Her daughter greeted briskly.

Gwen: Hello!

Robert: As you know, we're from La Quilla, but we have businesses all over this country, in all the provinces. La Quilla, Matria, Menestra, Seles, and even in the remote Anima. When this is over, I'll finish the last paperwork for them.

Garwin: Are you okay with following us north? After all, your hotel is behind us —he commented.

Robert: It's fine. It's fine. The event I managed was the last one of the day. The employees had to close at dusk. It's safe, and it will be safe when I return —he exclaimed, combing his perfectly groomed hair— Besides, I was already planning to visit Anima Province, and traveling with you will be following the exact same route.

Neither he nor his family were present during the first incident. Clearly, he was unaware of the chaos that erupted that night. That hotel would be the last place anyone in their right mind would want to return to.

Izzy: ...

Gwen: "Okay, Dad. It's my turn —his daughter chimed in—. I'm Gwen... Uh... I'm getting my bachelor's degree next month, graduating as a business administrator with a specialization in Human Resources.

Robert: Quite a professional at such a young age!

Gwen: Of course.

Garwin: That's great... Uh...

The woman, Julia, bowed her head even further. It was obvious she didn't want to introduce herself.

Garwin: Then Dante. It's your turn.

The boy, somewhat uneasy, stood up confidently.

Dante: Dante Fonseca. Runnerback. University of Manecia —he forced a serious tone into his voice, a joke already prepared.

Doger: Don't joke, man —the boy corrected him, smiling—. The position is called “R u n n I n g back”. I know this because that's my position.

Dante: Hey hey, okay. Well... I do some exercise, I study, and sometimes I play video games. The other question was...? Oh, yeah. My expectation is to return to my family. They traveled north to visit my uncles, so... here I am, I guess.

Garwin: You seem lively, buddy —he questioned.

Dante: Of course. We're a group of survivors in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. It'd be weird if I wasn't at least a little excited, right?

Doger: …

Garwin: We definitely need that energy. Welcome to the team. —he quirked his lips slightly.

Doger: My turn —he shook his dirty white T-shirt—. I'm Doger Biast. And I'm a beast at football.

Dante: Bad joke. Booo.

Doger: Heh. Garwin, Sein, Izzy, Nisha… We all practiced once in a while at St. Ramael High School. And I can also cook, by the way. You'll see me in an apron all the time.

Garwin: Let's hope it's not just the apron.

Doger: Ha ha.

The atmosphere was starting to become more pleasant. The shyer people felt more comfortable, sharing in the laughter with the rest.

Doger: Hey, be serious—he raised his hands to calm the audience's jubilation and continue—. What I expect from this trip? To arrive in one piece, obviously. Although, if I'm honest, it's not a bad idea to travel to other provinces.

Dante: It's the sense of adventure —he added.

Doger: I understand that, man. But we have to take it seriously, really —he looked at everyone—. My suggestion is that from now on we all use masks and nicknames.

Dante: Uhm… Why? Not that I'm against it but—

Doger: You don't know what we've seen. This shit can get really ugly. Really ugly. It's live or die out there. I mean, out here. We're in the middle of nowhere.

Dante: …Yeah, you told us about that.

He couldn't disagree with that, so he chose to change the subject before changing the tone of the conversation.

Dante: …Okay. And... what's my nickname?

Doger: I'm great at that. I'll take care of it later.

Xiomara: No offensive nicknames, please.

Doger: Hey, I wouldn't be capable of such a thing. Who do you take me for?

She ignored his question.

Xiomara: ...I'll introduce myself. Good morning, everyone. Nice to meet you. My name is Xiomara Fiorello.

The young woman straightened the beige cardigan she was wearing and brushed the dirt off it. Her long blond hair covered half her white face and fell to her jeans, revealing only her fine brown eye.

If you paid close enough attention, you'd notice she had a slender and graceful body, although her abundant clothing made it difficult to reach such conclusions at first glance.

Xiomara: I also study at the San Ramael Institute like the others, but I grew up in an orphanage with Doger and, uhm, most of you don't know him, but also with a boy named Miruno who used to travel with us —she clarified—. I've also taken first aid courses. And I... I want us all to return to the Institute safely. I hope to help you in any way I can in the meantime.

Dante: And hobbies? —the interested boy asked, trying to extend the conversation.

Xiomara: Um... Studying, listening to music, reading, going out to eat... —she counted on her fingers while thinking.

The boy nodded to everything she said.

Dante: And what do you like to eat? Your usual favorite.

Xiomara: Chocolate, I think.

Dante: And...

Garwin: And we'll move on to the next in the group, or else we'll never finish —he interrupted the exchange—. Gitta.

Gitta: Sure.

Doger: Did you like the armor, uh?

Gitta: I lost my clothes. I must keep wearing these —he excused himself as he stood up with some difficulty—. Greetings, everyone. My name is Gitta Vintana. This is Yong Haeri.

Haeri: Or just Haeri —beside him, the young woman simply waved.

Gitta: We both arrived from the United States. Our plane crashed and… —a long second to sigh— sadly, most of them didn't make it.

Haeri: …

Garwin: My deepest condolences, my friend…

Gitta: I appreciate it. Everything you've done for us since then, really. And… I hope to repay your help as much as I can.

Garwin: You already do, my friend, you already do. I assure you, you'll return home.

Haeri: And what about your hobbies?

Gitta: Sure. I used to practice gymnastics often. When I started dating Haeri, I developed a huge passion for the music and dance industry.

Haeri: Um, yeah, I… I don't dance as much as I used to.

Doger: You have to teach us someday. That way I can show you my forbidden moves —he shuffled his feet.

Gitta: He he, sure.

It was her turn.

Haeri: Well, I'll just say I like airplanes.

Doger: Airplanes?

Haeri: That's right. My father is an active-duty pilot in the United States Air Force, and he passed on his obsession to me. I've even taken a few flight courses.

Garwin: Oh. With you guys we always learn something new.

Haeri: (I think I mentioned it before...)

Shaun: I'm next. My name is Shaun Walker, a resident of the village of Homen.

There wasn't enough time to finish the conversation, as if he wanted to say something as soon as possible.

He combed his styled short black hair and stood up.

Gwen: (He's tall...) —the girl thought.

Shaun: I've worked as a magazine model for various music production companies, so I stay in shape. My day-to-day life is basically a routine between the two. At least It was before this mess started.

Gwen: Mm…

Shaun: And I'm here because… Hm… For my friends. I'm going to do things right, that's all.

Doger: And that means…?

Shaun: Exactly what you heard.

Doger: …

Shaun: If you need help with anything, don't hesitate to ask…

Gwen: Are you single?

Dante: Woooah… Ho ho hooo…

The girl's words tumbled out of her mouth like a habit, not even paying the slightest attention to her parents' presence.

Shaun: …Yeah, I am. It's not well-regarded to have a partner when you work in this industry, after all.

Gwen: I imagine… He he he…

Robert: Honey, don't interrupt.

Garwin: Better leave those topics for another time.

Kael: Let me introduce myself!

An energetic voice echoed through the group, startling some.

It was one of the new members from the La Quilla schools. His trained body was etched into his T-shirt, and his bald head sported a single ponytail that reflected the province's image.

Kael: Kael Han, at your service —he said with a mixture of intensity and nervousness— here, my younger brother Soren Han, Mr. Iker Shoji and Audrey Kissandra, and we represent the martial arts schools of this province. It seems Audrey won't be among us, but I'm including her anyway.

He had introduced the others, who simply nodded. A boy, an older man, and the girl still waiting in the truck.

Doger: Hobbies would be…?

Kael: We do not have any. We do this every day. I wouldn't call it just a hobby.

Doger: …Okay.

Kael: As he said before, we also thank you for helping us at the school. It's... a real shame it wasn't all of us...

Izzy: ...

Kael: Those things were vicious. I think the most important thing now is to get ahead of the pessimism and stay positive. If you remember, we have weapons and equipment —he pointed at the truck—, they’ll be very helpful in getting through this situation. I'm sure many others aren't as lucky right now.

Garwin: You're not wrong. We should check the containers more closely.

Kael: Correct. We know how to use those weapons. You'll learn to use them from us, too.

Garwin: Then we'll have to meet to plan that. Izzy...

A young woman stood up slowly and quietly, her eyes as incredibly bright as the ground, scanning everyone present.

Izzy: My name is Izzy Rylee.

She had always been short, far from being as imposing as the previous presenter. However, her fine features, soft voice, and controlled gestures never failed to draw the crowd's attention.

She continued calmly, accustomed to that kind of reaction.

Izzy: I live in the same apartment complex as Garwin and Sein. I gardened, read, wrote, trained... occasionally listened to music. My goal is to work together and get ahead.

A short, generic answer. She must have thought it was unnecessary to reveal too much with members that were already willing to collaborate.

Nisha: …

Amelie: Uhm… Can I ask a question?

One of the smaller girls in the group requested, timidly raising her hand as if addressing her schoolteacher.

Izzy: Of course.

Amelie: Are your eyes okay? Mm…

The boy, Doger, let out a short laugh. He found it funny that questioning the lightness of her irises has always been one of the first things strangers do when meeting them for the first time.

Izzy: …Yes. I can see just fine.

Gwen: Do you wear contact lenses or something?

Izzy: It's natural.

Ema: You have beautiful eyes, miss —the woman said, smiling kindly as she hugged her daughters— Right, girls?

Lyra/Amelie: Yessss.

Izzy: Thank you…

Now it would be her turn.

Ema: Hello —she greeted without standing up, avoiding disturbing the little ones huddled together— For those of you who don't know us, my name is Ema Bellamy. These are my daughters Lyra and Amelie. I run a small beauty and nail business in La Quilla that I run while taking care of my girls.

She was wearing casual pants and a simple long-sleeved shirt, a simple look for a mother. Her features were delicate, perfectly matching the colors of her black skin with the paint; her professional manicure and makeup skills shone through.

Ema: I know it's just us, but we'll help in any way we can. Oh, I also trained at a school when I was younger, in case knowing that helps in any way —she added— Mm, you're next, Nisha, right?

Nisha: That's right, Miss Ema —he nodded faintly.

The boy stood up with a calm, unhurried movement. His slanted, dark, and attentive eyes scanned the group with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

Nisha: It's good to see there are so many of us. When we began our journey, it was just my friends and me. A lot has happened since then... but now you've all joined in too.

He gave a faint smile, laced with a nostalgic tinge.

He was wearing a thick sweatshirt and sturdy pants, though worn from the long journey.

There was something about his presence that conveyed calm, a peace that seemed to defy the difficult position they were in.

Nisha: My name is Nisha Quinto. I'm not an athlete or anything like that, but I suppose two extra hands could be helpful —he humbly lowered his head, scratching the back of his neck— I used to... collaborate with charity groups, writing books for all ages. I really like books, especially history ones.

Nerina: ...

Nisha: My home is in the village of Los Canes, not far from the Acracia Mountains. I used to live there with my mother, but... she's currently missing. I'm trying to find her, though it hasn't exactly been easy; our nation is large, really large —he said, somewhat downcast and thoughtful—. My only lead is that she's in the next shelter in the north, where we're headed.

The group nodded, expressing empathy for his situation.

Nisha: It's a pleasure to meet you. Uhm... seems I'm the last one here. Jevo Deems is the guy on guard over there, Earlene Gresham is the one checking the containers —he pointed to each one in the distance, introducing them—. And Cadie... Saggiatore, she's still sleeping in the truck. She's still a little tired from the trip. But they're all good people.

Garwin: Perfect. That concludes the introductions—with his hands on his knees, he stood briskly and stretched his back—As Nisha said, it's a pleasure to meet you, and that you met us. It's been a long enough break, and there's a lot to do: assigning daily tasks, organizing equipment, cooking… definitely a lot to do. Throughout the day, I'll be giving you instructions. And if anyone has any problems or difficulties, don't hesitate to tell me, or Xiomara, if you feel more comfortable that way.

His tone was firm, but not authoritarian, enough to make it clear that this wasn't just a group of strangers sharing space, but people who now depended on each other for survival.

A barely perceptible murmur ran through the group, more of relief than discomfort. The introductions had gone on long enough for the travel fatigue and accumulated tension to dissipate in their bodies, just as they dispersed into the field.

The wind blew through the corroded trees, stirring the dry leaves at their feet. Dawn had already given way to full daylight and with the introductions over, reality settled back in. The world wouldn't stop. Not even they could afford to.

Winslow: Five, ten, fifteen… We're twenty-five people in total. Boy, I hope I memorize all your names. If I call you "Mister" or "Miss" I want you to know it's not out of spite.

Doger: Don't forget you'll have a nickname. Each one will.

Winslow: …Then it shall be impossible to remember them.

Doger: That's how you start a new band, right? You'll get used to it, man.

A long journey ahead.

To be continued…