Heavy panting and pounding footsteps. The group sprinted across the endless expanse of sand, eyes locked on the shimmering oasis ahead.
"It's got a pond!" Brandon shouted, leading the charge.
"Oh my god, YES!" Caitlyn cried out, right behind him.
Without hesitation, Brandon, Caitlyn, and Thomas dove headfirst into the pond.
**SPLASH.**
"AHH!" Brandon emerged from the water, laughing as he slicked his wet hair back. He grinned at Thomas.
Liam was far more reserved. He walked up, sat at the edge, and dipped his feet in.
He cupped water in his hands and took slow, deliberate sips. Nearby, Brandon and Caitlyn drank eagerly, while Thomas gulped like a crocodile.
"AHH! Thank God!" Thomas shouted, tossing water over his head.
Brandon laughed. "Man, where's the cop?"
Alex was just arriving, trailing behind them, his steps heavy in the sand.
"We made it." Caitlyn climbed out of the pond and sat beside Liam, a grin lighting up her entire face.
Liam didn't smile. He was simply relieved. He continued drinking, calm and measured.
"We'll rest a bit, then head back to tell the others the good news," Brandon said, checking his watch—only to find it soaked. The hands had fallen off. "Uh…"
"It's 1:34," Liam replied, glancing at his still-functional watch.
"Two and a half hours left. We'll go back in ten minutes."
"We don't need to all go," Liam said. "Just two or three of us. That's enough to deliver the message."
Brandon nodded. "True. I'll go with you—"
"No." Alex cut in as he finally reached the pond. Without a pause, he stepped in and began washing himself.
"I... I can do it," Brandon insisted.
"No, you can't. You stay here with Tom," Alex said as he drank deeply.
"But—"
"I'll go with Liam."
Brandon looked at Liam, who gave a subtle nod. He was fine with the arrangement.
"I'll come too!" Caitlyn added, her voice bright.
Liam studied her for a long moment, gaze unreadable. It made Caitlyn shift uncomfortably.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, her cheeks coloring.
"He doesn't want you to go," Alex answered.
"Huh?"
"Stay here," Alex said simply. Then to Liam, "You and me. We leave in a minute."
"I want to come," Caitlyn said again, a bit softer now.
"And I want you to stay," Liam replied, voice flat, tone emotionless.
Caitlyn's chest tightened. He didn't want her exposed to danger. That thought alone overwhelmed her.
"Oh... okay..."
Liam splashed water on his face, then stood.
They had walked in one direction—returning shouldn't be difficult, even in a desert where everything looked the same.
"Alright, kid. Let's move," Alex said, taking the lead.
"Stay safe!" Brandon called.
"We will."
—
A quiet distance hung between them. Alex walked a few feet ahead. Liam followed, eyes scanning the horizon.
It had all gone too smoothly. Almost unbelievably so.
Liam reached into his pocket and felt the foldable knife. Hidden earlier in a plastic packet tucked in his mouth, he'd transferred it while the others were distracted at the pond.
"So," Alex said suddenly. "Are we going at it?"
Silence.
Their footsteps pressed on in the soft sand. Liam didn't answer. He unfolded the knife in his hand and gripped it tightly.
Alex stopped walking.
Liam stopped too.
Alex turned to face him. "Well?"
Still expressionless, Liam said nothing—but inside, he was rattled. He'd been found out.
"You've been talking weird the whole time," Alex said. "Back then, you told me I couldn't bring anything besides clothes. So I ran a little test."
He reached for his pocket—empty.
"My gun's gone. As expected. But I knew not to rely on pockets."
Liam didn't flinch, though his mind was racing. Alex had seen through everything.
"Take your shot," Alex said, glaring. "I'm giving you your chance."
**CLINK.**
Liam flipped the blade open—and lunged.
The knife slashed through air. Alex dodged cleanly.
Liam struck again. And again. Each time, Alex slipped just out of reach. His movements were fast, refined—years of training on full display.
Another swing—this time, Alex caught Liam's wrist mid-strike.
With a swift sweep of the leg, Alex brought Liam crashing to the ground.
**THUMP.**
Sand exploded outward. Liam still clutched the blade, but Alex pinned his wrist with ease.
"Pretty fast," Alex grunted. "But not fast enough."
Liam thrashed. With a knee to Alex's groin, he broke the grip and surged upward.
The blade cut Alex's cheek.
"Argh!" Alex winced and stepped back.
Liam rose to his feet. He didn't go for another strike with the knife—he kicked instead. Aiming high and hard.
Alex dodged. Blocked. Parried. Despite the bleeding gash, his body barely slowed.
Another kick—toward the head. Alex side-stepped, grabbed Liam's leg, and shoved it up.
Liam toppled.
**THUMP.**
Sand sprayed again. He hit the ground hard.
Once more, Alex pinned him. One hand on the wrist with the blade, the other pressing down on his throat.
"You're trained," Alex said, breath tight. "Not bad."
But his grip tightened. "Go to sleep."
Liam struggled—twisting, writhing—but nothing worked.
He had one move left.
"Argh... Jason is... in the game," he gasped.
Alex froze.
"What?"
Liam yanked his wrist free and drove the knife straight into Alex's stomach.