Price Of Surviving

Halo blinks awake to the pale wash of morning light seeping through the barracks window. She rubs her eyes, stretches her sore arms, then pulls on her patched pants and boots. Around her, the others wander the room, tangled in blankets and groaning as they try to get the morning started. 
          Everyone except Yumi. 
          She lies stiffly in the bed, cheeks flushed crimson, sweat beading along her brow. Halo leans closer. “Yumi?” she whispers. 
          There’s no response. Yumi’s breaths come shallow and ragged, her skin clammy against the pillow. Halo gently takes her hand, turning it to check the wound. The small cut from the trial, where Cinder shoved her, is angry red and swollen, the flesh puffed around the crude bandage. Infection has crept up her wrist, red veins threading beneath her pale skin. 
          “Yumi!” Halo shakes her shoulder gently, panic rising. Yumi stirs weakly, murmuring something incoherent, her fever burning hot enough that Halo feels it radiate. 
          “Go get Thorn!” Halo cries, her voice sharp and desperate. She looks around at the others, wide-eyed. “Now!” 
          Benji stumbles, nearly tripping over his own blanket in his scramble for the door. The barracks, so still moments ago, erupts into chaos. 
          Halo feels just how fragile this community really is. How one small wound, left unchecked, could take someone away forever. 
          The barracks door bursts open as Thorn strides in, his presence filling the room. His eyes sweeping over to Yumi trembling under the blankets. His jaw tightens as he kneels to check the wound himself. He peels back the crude bandage, and his expression hardens at the sight of the swelling. “It’s infected. We have to get her antibiotics.” 
          Around them, the others gather in uneasy silence. 
          “We’ve been running low on medicine for months,” Thorn admits, rising to his feet. His voice carries the weight of someone who hates to say the words aloud. “We’ve stretched every last pills, every herb, tried to avoid the city for as long as we could. But there’s no choice now.” 
          Cinder frowns. “You mean—” 
          “The hospital,” Thorn cuts in. “It will have what we need. Antibiotics, supplies.” 
          “The hospital’s past the androids’ territory,” Norio says, his tone low and heavy. 
          Thorn nods. “I know. We’ve raided every building close to us, stripped them bare. If we want to save Yumi, we have to go where we’ve never dared to go before.” His gaze flicks from one teammate to the next, sharp and unyielding. “We either risk the androids… or we let her die.” 
          The room goes still, the weight of the choice pressing down on everyone. 
          “Then we go,” Halo whispers. 
          Thorn’s eyes land on her, a flicker of reluctant respect in his expression. He gives a single nod. “Suit up, we’re leaving.” 
          The team rides hard until the walls of Ossamaris fade into the distance, the forest swallowing them in its dense canopy. The air grows cooler beneath the trees, the chatter of insects replacing the cries of gulls from the shore. When Thorn raises his hand, the group slows to a halt. “Here,” he says, dismounting. The others follow suit, boots sinking into damp soil. The horses snort and stamp nervously, as if sensing the danger ahead. 
          “Tie them here,” Thorn orders. “Two of you stay back. If Skelloid’s appear take the horses back to Ossamaris, we can’t risk losing them.” 
          Benji clicks his tongue and pats the neck of his horse before looping the reins around a tree. “Don’t let anyone steal my girl,” he jokes weakly, though his eyes flick uneasily toward the forest beyond the clearing. 
          Norio checks the perimeter with a soldier’s precision, his hand never straying far from his spear. “We’re close enough to walk the rest of the way,” he confirms. 
          The city waits beyond the trees, and with it, the androids. 
          The team moves in a tight formation through the crumbling streets, boots quickly fill with cold water under the murky flood. Vines snake up the skyscrapers, their windows blown out, jagged frames whistling with the wind. Somewhere in the distance, metal shifts and groans. 
          Halo wraps her arms around herself as she follows the others. The air smells of rust and mold, sharp and suffocating. She hates being back here. Every ruined wall and vine-choked alley feels like the ghost of a memory. Her steps falter when she spots a building with an open window on its upper floors. The one she fell from, the night she first encountered the green Skelloid. 
          I wonder where that Skelloid is now? 
          Dosei lags behind, crouching beside a half-submerged car. He reaches his hand into the vehicle, pulls out a strange piece of metal and holds it up to the light with a curious hum. “This alloy… could’ve been part of an old android chassis. If we—” 
          “Dosei,” Thorn cuts in sharply, spinning back to glare at him. “Drop it. We’re not here to sightsee.” 
          “But it could be useful if—” 
          “Drop it,” Thorn repeats, low and firm. 
          Dosei sighs, reluctantly tossing the metal back into the car. It lands with a clatter that makes everyone freeze. 
          Somewhere nearby, a mechanical clank echoes in response. 
          “Patrol?” Halo whispers, her throat dry. 
          Thorn doesn’t answer. He just raises his hand in a silent command to halt, and listens, jaw tight. No androids cross their path, no glowing eyes in the shadows, but the feeling of being watched clings to them like damp air. Every creak of metal or distant clang makes the team freeze, spears and rifles ready, before they force themselves forward again. 
          “Keep moving,” Thorn orders. His voice is steady, but his eyes dart constantly to the ruins overhead. 
          They follow what’s left of street signs, pointing them toward the hospital. Vines crawl over the letters, and rust eats away at the paint, but it’s enough to keep them on track. 
          The water deepens the farther they go. First ankle-high, then calf-deep, until each step sends ripples through the flooded streets. The reflections of shattered windows ripple across the surface, making it hard to tell where the street ends and the water begins. 
          “Watch your step,” Benji warns, peering down as they slosh forward. “Flooding like this could hide anything, potholes, animals, corpses…” 
          “Cheerful,” Cinder mutters. 
          “You’re one to talk,” Benji fires back. 
          A bridge stretches out before them, its asphalt cracked and buckling, railings bent outward over the dark water below. Rust chews at the supports, vines strangling what’s left of the structure. Every step makes the concrete groan beneath their boots. 
          “Don’t look down,” Norio mutters to himself, though his eyes flick nervously toward the waves. 
          Halfway across, Halo feels the hair on the back of her neck rise. From the shattered window of a collapsed tower overlooking the bridge, a flicker of movement reveals glowing eyes watching. She freezes. 
          “Thorn…” she whispers. 
          He follows her gaze, but it’s too late. 
          Shapes emerge from the ruins, their silhouettes tall and sharp against the dim skyline. More step out onto the far end of the bridge. Others crawl up from beneath the structure itself, rising in eerie, perfect unison. Silent. Methodical. Outnumbering them. 
          The team tightens formation, rifles raised, spears locking into place. 
          From the android ranks, one figure steps forward. His movements are smooth, deliberate, almost graceful. His frame is sleek compared to the patchwork machines around him, but his eyes burn with cold white light. 
          When he speaks, his voice is smooth, almost human, but laced with quiet menace. “Welcome, meat relics,” his gaze sweeps the team in disgust. “I’m Helrix, and this is my land. I must ask you to leave,” he doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t need to. The words land like a verdict already passed. 
          No one speaks, but Thorn stands firmly in front of his team. 
          Halo realizes her fists are clenched so tightly her nails cut her palms. 
          Helrix tilts his head. “Raiding medical supplies, are you? The sick don’t last long in your little town, do they?” he scoffs. 
          Thorn stiffens. Norio whispers to him, “How does he know that?” 
          Suspicion prickles across the team like static. 
         Beside Helrix, another android twitches. A stuttering shudder runs down his frame, joints clicking audibly before snapping still again. Twitch’s glowing eyes flare brighter as the glitch passes. He grins, the sound of grinding servos passing for laughter. 
          Crank lumbers forward, a bulky patchwork of salvaged parts, each step a clang of mismatched metal. His voice is a rasping roar. “Why don’t we just kill them now?!” 
          “Crank,” Helrix says sternly, a warning. 
          Crank snaps, his hatred of humans boiling over into fury. With a groan of grinding metal, he hurls himself across the span, each thunderous step shaking the bridge. His massive shoulders drive forward like a battering ram, the force of his charge so violent it seems the very air bends away from him. He’s going in for the kill.