Trust on the Horizon

As the second car neared, the tension in the air thickened. Could they get lucky twice in a row, or was the universe about to flip the script on them?

Mando ended his quick call with his mother, offering her words of reassurance, before joining the others. They all stood, eyes fixed on the approaching vehicle.

The engine hummed and then cut off. A girl sat at the wheel, her hands resting on the windowsill in a gesture of peace, a sign she noticed everyone already outside. It wasn’t the way they'd planned it, but she kept a cautious distance as the car slowly rolled to a stop.

Kotae raised a hand, signaling for her to step out.

The door creaked open, and the girl practically bounced out with energy. “Hiii! There’s so many of you! I was expecting to meet just one person!” she half-yelled, a grin spread wide across her face. “I’m here with my sister. Can she get out too?”

Kotae, his voice still calm but louder to be heard, gave a half-shout, “Yes!”

With a nod, the girl stepped aside, and another girl emerged from the passenger seat. This one was a bit quieter, her movements more deliberate. The two of them walked toward the group, side by side.

The older sister, Nina, had striking blonde hair that shimmered in the sunlight, her blue eyes bright and alert as she scanned the group. She was the first to speak, her voice confident yet warm. “I’m Nina. Nina Tanaka. And this here is my little sister—”

Nakima, the younger girl, followed her sister's lead. Her red hair fell messily around her face, contrasting with Nina’s blonde locks. Her brown eyes were sharp, taking in their surroundings as she spoke with a teasing smile. “I’m Nakima. Nakima Tanaka, as you’d probably guess. Nice to meet you all.”

Kotae offered a small nod. “I’m Kotae. This is Kika, Mando, and Leonor, my father.” He motioned to each of them in turn. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yup!” Nina chirped. “Bit of a drive, but not too bad with no traffic—and no patrols. That part was nice.” She glanced toward the skyline, where distant smoke curled faintly into the sky. “Though… yeah. It’s creepy as hell out here.”

Nakima gave her sister a sidelong look. “You say that like you didn’t blast music the whole way here.”

“Gotta keep the vibe up,” Nina replied, flashing a grin. “Can’t roll into a trade meeting looking like we crawled out of a bunker.”

The mood eased slightly, the faintest breeze sweeping through the open space between them. There was still tension—there always would be—but it had softened, just a little.

Kotae tilted his head. “Why don’t we all gather around and talk? Get a feel for each other. If everything checks out, we trade.”

Nina nodded, her earlier brightness still there, but tempered now by a quiet understanding. “Yeah. That sounds fair.”

Nakima gave a playful half-salute. “Lead the way, boss man.”

Kotae gave a subtle nod to the others and stepped forward, unshouldering his heavy pack. He set it down gently and opened it, revealing a solid stack of canned food. Rows of beans, meats, and fruits glinted under the sun. Next to it, he placed two large water jugs, then looked up at Nina and Nakima.

“This is yours,” he said. “Forty cans. Two jugs of clean water.”

Nakima stepped forward and opened their own bag, revealing two sealed fuel canisters. She gave one a little shake—it sloshed with promise. With a shared nod, they exchanged supplies.

Mando stepped forward. He unslung his pack and crouched beside it, opening it with care. He pulled out what they'd all expected—the small portable generator, cleaned and checked, wrapped tight to avoid damage. But after setting that down, he hesitated, then reached back in and pulled out something extra: two canisters of fuel.

Kotae raised an eyebrow. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

Mando gave a one-shouldered shrug. “It wasn’t. Brought it just in case. Wasn’t sure if I’d trade it, but… I like the people here. Feels right.”

Kika smiled. “That’s really kind of you.”

Leonor nodded in quiet appreciation.

Kotae crouched, setting down the remaining half of the supplies—another forty cans and two more jugs of water.

“You didn’t have to,” he said, voice low but steady. “But I’m glad you did.”

Mando offered a faint grin. “Let’s call it a good faith bonus.”

The moment held, quiet and steady, the kind that said more than thanks could.

Nakima broke it, of course. “Okay, I officially don’t trust how wholesome this feels. Is this a cult?”

“Only on Tuesdays,” Kika replied without missing a beat, and they all laughed—light, dry, but real.

Nina slung her pack back on and gave Kotae a respectful nod. “If you ever want to trade again, we’ll be around. You’ve got a map?”

“I do,” Mando said, pulling his from his back pocket. “We can mark a neutral spot. Not too close to either group.”

“Perfect.”

As she handed him a pen and pointed to a rough midpoint, Leonor leaned in close to Kotae and murmured, “He could’ve kept that fuel. Sold it somewhere else. But he gave it to us.”

“I know,” Kotae said. “That’s what makes it even more valuable.”

And somehow, under the shadow of a world gone wrong, that quiet act felt like the rarest kind of wealth.

As they finished loading the last of the trade items into their respective vehicles, a strange stillness hung over the group.

Nina clapped her hands together once, like shaking herself from a thought. “So… we don’t really know how much longer we’ll have internet. Or signal. Or any way to reach each other. What happens then? How do we meet again—or even know if we should?”

The question lingered.

Kotae glanced between them, then rubbed his chin in thought. “Alright. Let’s keep it simple.”

Everyone turned to him.

“We message each other if anything comes up, while we still can. But if the signal cuts out—if we lose everything—we meet back here, same spot, same time. Let’s say… 5 PM on that day. If it's past 5 PM, we meet the next day. Just to talk. See how everyone’s holding up. And figure out if, when, and how we keep meeting after that.”

For a moment, no one spoke. Then, one by one, they all nodded.

“5 PM,” Nina repeated, giving a small, determined smile. “Got it.”

“Same spot,” Mando echoed, hands in his jacket pockets.

Kika gave a quiet nod, and Leonor—arms folded, gaze steady—inclined his head. “Simple. Works for me.”

They hugged—some quick, others lingering—and exchanged a few last words, each heavy with more than just a goodbye. No one wanted to be the first to leave, but eventually, they parted. One by one, each group drifted off in their own direction, heading back to their fragile pockets of safety.

Our group of three drove on, the gentle hum of the car filling the spaces between their thoughts.

Leonor adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, his voice low but thoughtful. “If it came to it… if things got worse than they already are… I wouldn’t mind having people like them nearby.”

Kotae gave a small nod. “Same. Nina and Nakima… they’re a bit of a wildcard, but they seem genuine. And Mando—he’s solid. Smart, careful. Gave us extra fuel just because he felt like it was the right thing to do. That says a lot.”

Kika leaned her head against the window, watching the half-dead city pass them by. “And he didn’t even try to make it a big deal. Just sort of… offered it like it was nothing. I think that’s what got me. You can tell he’s used to carrying the weight quietly.”

Leonor sighed through his nose. “If we ever had to bring people into our circle—people we’d actually trust with what we’ve got—I’d rather it be someone like him than someone desperate and unpredictable.”

Kotae tilted his head slightly, thoughtful. “We’d have to be careful. Really careful. One wrong person could ruin everything. But... building something that lasts in this kind of world? That sounds good.”

“Even if we don’t group up right away,” Kika said, turning to face them both, “we can keep an eye out. Learn more about them, feel things out. Meet up like we said. And if it starts to make sense… maybe.”

There was a short pause.

“Do you think his mom’s okay?” she asked quietly.

Leonor gave a small nod. “If she’s anything like her son, I’d bet she’s tough.”

“She raised a good one, that’s for sure.” Kotae said.

Silence settled in again, but this time it felt different—less like avoidance, more like agreement.

Kika spoke once more, barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what comes next. But I’d feel better facing it if they were in our corner.”

“Me too,” Leonor said, and Kotae echoed with a quiet, “Yeah.”

The city rolled by in slow motion, the sun setting behind cracked buildings and broken streetlights. But for the first time in a while, their world didn’t feel quite so small.

And somewhere deep inside, all three of them knew—this moment, this conversation, might’ve been the first step toward something far bigger than survival.

But then, like a blade slashing through the silence, a car veered in from a hidden side road and screeched to a halt—sideways—blocking their path entirely.