Ethan
The road made me feel more exposed than the forest ever had. In the trees, at least something was between us and the sky. Out here, it felt like the island could see us wherever we went.
We followed the shoulder, passing houses and small shops. A mailbox had been ripped out of the ground and thrown several meters away. A fence was caved inward. A shop window had shattered outward, glass scattered across the pavement like broken ice. Inside, the lights were still on.
But there were no people.
Alexa stayed close to me. "Do you think everyone left?" she asked quietly.
"I don't know," I said. And I meant it.
Lila walked slightly ahead of us now. She kept scanning everything: rooftops, driveways, shadows, the ground. Hana held onto her hand the way Alex held onto mine. There was something steady about her. Not fearless. Just… constant. I didn't realize how much that mattered until now.
She stopped suddenly, and I nearly walked into her.
A long crack split the road ahead, thin but deep. The edges were blackened, like something hot or corrosive had burned through the asphalt.
The smell in the air was the same one from the beach.
Alex's voice was small. "They were here."
"Yes," I said quietly.
Lila crouched slightly to look at the damage without getting too close. Her brows drew together.
"My dad always said the ground keeps a memory of what moves across it," she murmured. "Pressure leaves patterns."
It wasn't fear in her eyes then, it was thought. She was trying to understand it. Somehow, that grounded me more than reassurance ever could have.
She glanced at me and seemed to realize I was watching. For a moment, there was just an unspoken acknowledgment between us. We were both carrying the same weight, keeping smaller people alive while searching for parents who might already be gone.
She straightened and pointed ahead. "If we keep following the main road, we should reach the college soon."
I nodded, and we continued.
Streetlamps leaned at strange angles. A bus stood parked half-across an intersection, empty, the doors still open. A backpack lay in the middle of the road with one strap twisted.
The world looked like it had been abandoned halfway through ordinary life.
And if this was what the neighborhoods looked like…
I didn't know what we would find at the college.
So I stayed quiet.
And I kept walking.
Because stopping felt far more dangerous than whatever might be waiting for us ahead.