Chapter 15: A Spark in the Dark

The first rays of dawn broke through the haze, casting a pale light over the charred landscape. The world was quiet, too quiet. The kind of silence that presses down on you, making the air feel thick, almost suffocating. Evelyn barely slept through the night—too many thoughts and too much fear of what tomorrow might bring. As she rose from her makeshift bed beneath the bridge, she looked around at the survivors still stirring, rubbing their eyes, gathering their things, preparing to move again.

The camp was a shadow of what it had once been. Gone were the days of organized survival, of the semblance of order. Now, there was only the raw, desperate need to keep moving, to keep breathing. Evelyn could see it in their eyes—the exhaustion, the uncertainty, the despair that had been eating at them since the day they learned about the end.

They had made it this far, but how much longer could they survive?

She shook off the thought, forcing herself to focus. One foot in front of the other. That was all they could do now.

Liam stood nearby, already packing up his things. His back was to her, but she could tell he was deep in thought, just as she was. He had become a quiet anchor for the group, his steadiness a contrast to the chaos around them. But even he wasn’t immune to the strain of it all.

Evelyn stepped over to him, her boots crunching on the gravel beneath her feet.

“Ready to go?” she asked softly, trying to inject a note of optimism into her voice, though she wasn’t sure it was even possible to sound hopeful anymore.

Liam looked over at her and gave a tired nod. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Behind them, the group was beginning to gather, their movements sluggish, but determined. Evelyn could see Officer Harris in the distance, speaking with a few others, his stance rigid, his brow furrowed. He had said little since last night, but Evelyn could feel his mistrust lingering, a presence she couldn’t ignore. He was right to be skeptical—none of this was guaranteed. The military base could be a trap, or worse, it might no longer exist at all.

But they had no choice. They were all gambling on the hope that something—anything—was still out there, waiting for them.

“We leave in ten,” Evelyn called out to the group, her voice cutting through the quiet morning air. “Get everything together. We move fast today.”

The survivors shuffled into action, some more reluctantly than others. Mara approached Evelyn, her face still pale but determined, and handed her a small bundle of supplies.

“Anything new?” Mara asked, her voice low.

“Nothing,” Evelyn replied. “We stick to the plan. If we can reach the military base by nightfall, we’ll have a chance.”

Mara didn’t say anything for a long moment. Instead, she just watched the group, her eyes narrowing as if trying to calculate who would break first, who might not make it through the day.

“I don’t think we can keep going like this,” Mara finally said, her voice tinged with concern. “The people... they’re running out of steam, Ev. We can only push them so far.”

“I know,” Evelyn muttered. “But we have to try.”

Before Mara could respond, Harris walked up, his footsteps heavy and deliberate.

“I don’t like this,” he said bluntly, his eyes scanning the group as if he were waiting for something to explode. “The military base could be a death sentence. For all we know, it’s been overrun. And if it hasn’t been, do you really think they’re going to let a bunch of refugees waltz in and take their supplies?”

Evelyn turned to face him, trying to keep her voice steady. “We don’t have time for second-guessing, Harris. This is the only shot we’ve got.”

“Second-guessing?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “This isn’t just about second-guessing. You’re leading us into a trap. I’ve been through enough situations like this to know that desperation gets people killed.”

His words hit harder than she expected. The raw honesty in his tone, the exhaustion in his eyes, it all felt like a judgment she wasn’t sure she could take. She opened her mouth to respond but paused. He wasn’t wrong.

“I know the risks,” Evelyn said quietly. “I do. But if we don’t move, we’ll die here. We’re dying already, Harris. The only difference is, if we go forward, there might be a chance we can survive. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but I can’t stay here anymore. None of us can.”

There was a long silence, and for a moment, she thought Harris was going to argue again. But instead, he simply shook his head and walked off without saying another word.

Evelyn watched him go, her stomach twisting with uncertainty. The weight of leadership was crushing sometimes—especially when you knew that every decision you made could be the one that broke everything. She had been living with that weight for so long now, and it was getting harder to bear.

“Are we ready to move?” Liam asked, stepping up beside her.

She nodded, but it felt like the nod of someone who wasn’t sure they were ready at all.

The group set off shortly after, the silence between them even more pronounced as the miles stretched on. Evelyn kept her eyes on the horizon, her mind racing with a thousand questions. How much longer could they keep up this charade of hope? How many more days could they survive on nothing but willpower?

They traveled in a tight group, the sound of their footsteps muffled by the thick air around them. The city they were passing through—what remained of it—was a graveyard. Burned-out vehicles, shattered glass, collapsed buildings, and the occasional flicker of movement in the distance. The world felt abandoned, as though it had been left to rot long before they ever arrived.

By mid-afternoon, exhaustion had begun to set in. The group’s pace had slowed, and Evelyn could hear the faint sound of complaints starting to rise. Hunger, thirst, pain—each person had their breaking point, and Evelyn could see that many of them were approaching it. The children, in particular, were struggling. Their faces were gaunt, their eyes sunken, but they kept walking, even as their bodies faltered.

Liam noticed it, too. He had been walking beside her, his expression as grim as hers, when he finally spoke. “We can’t keep this up for much longer.”

Evelyn glanced at him, but she said nothing. She knew it was true. They were running on fumes, and it wouldn’t be long before someone couldn’t go on.

Suddenly, a shout rang out from the rear of the group. Harris, who had been keeping a careful distance, was now at the back, holding up his hand to signal something. He looked agitated, his body tense, and when Evelyn turned to look, she saw what had caused him to react.

A plume of smoke rose in the distance, visible against the setting sun.

“We need to move,” Harris called, his voice urgent. “Something’s out there.”

Evelyn didn’t hesitate. “Everyone, move! Now!”

Panic spread through the group like wildfire, the collective fear suddenly palpable. The calm, measured steps of the day turned into frantic scrambling as survivors picked up what little they could carry and started running. But Evelyn couldn’t afford to be afraid, not yet. She had to be the one to keep them focused, keep them moving.

“Stay together! Keep moving!” she shouted, her voice sharp.

Behind her, the smoke grew thicker. The world was closing in on them, and Evelyn had no idea whether it was salvation or destruction that waited at the end of the path.

But there was no turning back now.