Chapter 5(iii) - unspoken truths -Exodus
Luke's POV
By morning, the camp had changed.
Soldiers were everywhere, barking orders, directing people into lines with the efficiency of a machine. It was clear this wasn't just a relocation. It was an operation.
"Stay calm! No pushing! Move with your assigned group!"
But people didn't listen. Some tried to break away. Others panicked, thinking this was the end. One man swung a pipe at a soldier. He didn't last long. A clean shot to the chest dropped him like a rag.
Another tried to flee and got tased hard enough to convulse in the dirt. Blood. Screams. The air stank of sweat and fear.
Scarlett pulled Jane closer. I stayed near Grey.
Grey said something under his breath.
"What?"
He glanced at me, then the crates nearby. "Melee weapons. Just in case."
He was right. The rifles were good, but ammo ran out. Melee was survival. Silent. Final.
I nodded and moved with him toward the second supply table where they were handing them out.
Axes. Knives. Hatchets. Crowbars. Tactical batons. Blunt steel pipes. A spiked bat. One guy even found a fireman's axe and hugged it like a long-lost lover.
"Take whatever you can actually use," Grey muttered. "Not just what looks cool."
Scarlett walked over with Jane in toe picking a combat knife and a machete. She kept eyeing a compound bow she seems so indecisive
She looks at grey whispering something to him ,he replies back and she's suddenly confident
She dropped her rifle, picks a desert eagle then the compound bow and a few arrows in the back.
jane picked a makeshift spear muttering something about distance and blood touching her . I scoff and she glares at me.
I went for a short axe and a military baton. I liked the weight. Balanced. Close range. Reliable.
Jonah picked a crowbar.
Blair's POV
Jonah was behind me, face smiling as always. Seventeen, but he looked a little older now. Just a few days ago, he was talking about finding a guitar. Now he was holding a hatchet like it was part of him.
I used to dance.
Not ballet. Street dance. Rooftops, subway tunnels, park benches.
Music was freedom. Movement was power. When Mom died, I found that rhythm. When Jonah's dad walked out, I held onto it even harder.
He was the cheerful one, always tagging along like a bee. But now? He wasn't as chirpy. He was armor. Changing...I can see it in the way he tries to mimic grey.
I picked up a karambit blade. Sleek. Fast. Like a dancer's turn.
Then a second one.
I smiled faintly. Twin arcs. Movement and silence. That was my language.
Jonah didn't say anything. He just looked at me and nodded.
That was all we needed.
Luke's POV
By 9:20 AM, the first carriers were rolled into place. Massive armored trucks, black and grey with strange insignias, their doors opening like jaws.
Soldiers handed out gear—black tactical vests, fingerless gloves, layered greys for blending into both cities and forest terrain. Not everyone got the full kit. Just the ones who looked like they could handle it.
Grey suited up without a word. Scarlett too. I saw Blair tighten her gloves, karambits already holstered.
We moved as one. Quietly. Ready.
Sector One waited.