Dawn came beneath a sky the color of steel.
The air cut like glass, each breath turning to mist as it left their lips.
Lucas and Megan dismantled their small shelter, covering it with snow until it vanished into the white.
They had slept only a few hours, but determination was enough to keep them standing.
Less than a kilometer ahead, the palisade of Nueva Esperanza Refuge rose against the frozen horizon.
From this distance, they could see the watchtowers and the thin trails of smoke curling from chimneys beyond the walls.
Megan adjusted her scarf and slung her backpack over one shoulder.
Lucas studied her closely; her face was steady, but her hands trembled just a little.
"Ready?" he asked quietly.
"Ready." She gave him a faint smile. "Just remember—if something goes wrong, don't move until I fire twice in the air."
"Got it."
"And trust me," she added softly. "We'll do this right."
They held each other briefly—one heartbeat, one breath—and then the plan began.
---
Lucas activated Silence Mode.
His presence disappeared completely; even the wind ignored him.
He moved a few meters behind Megan, invisible among the trees.
She descended the slope with careful, deliberate steps, boots sinking into the snow until she reached the open ground before the wall.
The refuge loomed tall—logs bound in steel, towers watching like unblinking eyes.
She had barely taken a few steps into the open when the shouts came.
"STOP!"
A booming voice from a tower echoed across the clearing.
Three rifles appeared instantly, aimed straight at her.
Megan raised her hands slowly, palms open.
"Don't shoot! I come in peace!" she shouted, her English clear but edged with fear.
From his hiding place, Lucas tensed, katana wrapped and ready.
His eyes flicked from one guard to another, calculating angles and distance.
If they fired, he'd have seconds—no more.
The silence that followed was razor-thin.
One of the guards spoke into a radio.
A metallic clank echoed from inside: clac, clac.
Then the heavy wooden gate creaked open, releasing a wave of warm air and the smell of smoke.
A man stepped out.
He was enormous—Black, nearly two meters tall, head shaved, short beard like steel wire.
His frame was a fortress wrapped in a thick coat.
A red armband circled his right arm, the word PIONEER stitched in black.
His eyes were sharp, weighing every word before it was even spoken.
He stopped a few paces from Megan and crossed his arms.
"Who are you?" His voice was deep, controlled.
"My name's Megan," she said steadily.
"Where are you from?"
"Chicago."
The man studied her for several seconds.
"You come alone?"
She hesitated a heartbeat—just long enough to notice—but answered, "Yes. I've been traveling alone for days. I saw your smoke from the mountain."
His eyes narrowed, reading every flicker in her face.
Lucas could feel his pulse racing from the trees.
The air between them tightened, thick as wire.
"How'd you survive out there?" the Pioneer asked.
"Luck. Avoided the big cities. Avoided the monsters." She drew in a slow breath. "Learned fast."
"You armed?"
"Yes—but I'm not here to fight."
"Show me."
Carefully, Megan pulled a pistol from her coat and placed it on the ground, hands raised again.
"I only keep it for protection."
The man regarded her a moment, then stepped forward.
"Why come here?"
"I need supplies," she said truthfully. "I can trade. I've got ammunition—and an M4 in my car, down the road."
That caught his interest.
"Ammunition, huh?"
"Not much," she replied, "but enough to trade."
"And the car still runs?"
"Yes. I hid it under snow, to stay unseen."
He said nothing for a while. Then his tone softened—still firm, but curious.
"Chicago, huh? Not many make it out of there. If you did… you're tougher than you look."
"I'm not sure about tough," Megan said, forcing a small smile. "I just had reasons to stay alive."
From the shadows, Lucas watched every move, every breath. His aura quivered, ready.
The Pioneer turned to the guards.
"Tell the Captain. We've got a lone traveler here with trade goods."
"Yes, sir!" one of them shouted down.
The man faced Megan again.
"Don't shoot, don't run, and don't lie." He pointed at her with a hand like a hammer. "We don't like liars here."
"I understand," she said calmly. "I only want to talk."
"Then wait," he said, turning toward the gate. "The Captain's coming."
---
The wind dragged fine snowflakes across the clearing as the gates groaned again.
Megan didn't move, hands still visible, posture steady.
From the forest, Lucas remained a phantom in the branches, his aura perfectly muted.
Behind the gate came muffled orders, boots on wood, weapons being checked.
Then it opened again, releasing a wave of heat and smoke.
The Pioneer returned—and beside him, a woman.
Her presence was composed yet commanding.
Tall, dark-haired, her braid fell over a shoulder like a black whip.
Her eyes were as sharp as polished steel.
She wore a long coat, a red armband stitched with PIONEER, and carried both a pistol and a survival knife.
This was the Captain.
Megan swallowed hard.
The woman stopped a few meters away, silent, studying her.
The guards above didn't lower their rifles.
"You're the one from Chicago?" the Captain asked, her tone firm but even—authority, not hostility.
"Yes, ma'am," said Megan. "Name's Megan."
"You came alone?"
"Yes." Megan met her gaze without flinching.
Lucas held his breath.
The woman's stare was surgical, dissecting.
"Few survive that far north," the Captain said at last. "Chicago was burned in the first waves. How'd you make it?"
"I kept to small towns. Stayed hidden. Learned fast."
The woman nodded slightly.
"You armed?"
"Yes, but I don't want trouble."
"Show me."
Megan knelt and set her pistol down again. "Only for safety."
The Captain glanced at the gun, then back up.
"Why come here?"
"I saw smoke from the mountains. I've been on the road for days. I need supplies. I can trade—an M4 and ammo in my car down the highway. I'm not asking for much. Just food, maybe fuel."
The Pioneer grunted.
"Ammo's worth gold these days."
The Captain raised a hand to silence him, never taking her eyes off Megan.
"Where's this car?"
"Three kilometers back, hidden in the trees. I didn't want to approach until I knew it was safe."
A pause.
Only the wind between them.
The Captain crossed her arms, thoughtful.
"You say you're alone."
"Yes," Megan repeated, steady—though her heart hammered in her chest.
The Captain stepped closer. Megan could smell leather and gunpowder on her coat.
"You don't lie with your eyes," she said quietly. "But you do with the air."
Megan blinked. "I don't understand."
"Everyone left alive has learned to read more than words." The Captain's tone softened a fraction. "You're not alone, are you?"
From the trees, Lucas tensed. His aura rippled, ready to ignite.
Megan hesitated—but held her ground.
"There's no one else with me."
The Captain studied her long enough to make the silence ache.
Then she exhaled. "Fine. I don't believe you. But I don't blame you."
The Pioneer chuckled. "She's got guts, Captain."
The woman nodded slightly, eyes never leaving Megan's.
"Bring her some food and water," she ordered. "No point letting her freeze out here."
The man obeyed instantly, vanishing through the gate.
The Captain stepped closer, her voice lowering.
"Megan… if you made it this far, you're smart. This world eats the ones who aren't. What else can you offer besides ammo?"
"I can work," she said quickly. "Cook, clean, help with children—whatever you need."
"You know how to shoot?"
"Learned on my own. I can defend myself."
The Captain regarded her another moment, then nodded.
"Good. Eat. Rest for an hour. Then we'll decide if you stay."
"Thank you," Megan murmured, genuine relief in her voice.
The Pioneer returned with a bottle of water and a piece of stale bread.
"Here," he said, almost kindly. "For the traveler."
Megan accepted with both hands. "Thank you."
The Captain turned away, pausing at the gate.
"And Megan," she said without looking back, "if someone's with you… tell him not to do anything stupid."
Megan froze. "Excuse me?"
"Just a feeling." The Captain's voice was calm. "The woods have eyes—and not all of them are enemies."
With a signal, she closed the gate.
The heavy doors slammed shut, sealing the warmth away.
Megan exhaled shakily.
From the forest, Lucas moved closer, unseen.
He could see her breath trembling in the cold.
She looked toward the wall, speaking barely above a whisper.
"It's fine," she murmured. "Everything's under control."
Lucas gripped the hilt of his katana.
The wind whistled through the pines, carrying a truth he couldn't ignore:
The Captain had felt him.
The plan still stood—
but Nueva Esperanza was no place for the naive.
---
The sun began to fall behind the mountains, turning the snow to pale gold.
Megan sat near the wall, hands buried in her coat pockets.
The bread was gone, but her nerves weren't.
Every so often, her eyes drifted toward the trees, where she knew Lucas watched.
The gate creaked open once more.
The Captain stepped out alone this time.
Her expression had softened, though her eyes were still those of someone who'd survived too much.
"You waited," she said, stopping before Megan. "Not everyone does."
"Didn't have many places left to go," Megan answered.
"Yet you're still alive. That already says plenty."
The wind hissed through the cracks in the wall.
The Captain studied her—long, quiet, precise.
"I've been thinking," she said finally. "The way you move, the calm, even the way you lie… You're not just a civilian, are you?"
Megan swallowed hard.
Her chest tightened.
She glanced toward the forest, where she could almost feel Lucas's gaze.
Her heart pounded.
"Listen," she said softly. "I don't want trouble. But… I'm not alone."
The Captain didn't flinch. She simply nodded, as though she'd known all along.
"Where is he?"
"In the woods. Not far. He's just cautious."
"Cautious or dangerous?"
"Cautious. He won't hurt anyone—unless someone forces his hand."
"Bring him," the Captain said flatly. "I don't like ghosts in my trees when night falls."
Megan hesitated, then nodded.
She pulled the small radio from her coat, pressed the button, and whispered,
"Lucas, it's fine. You can come out."
Minutes later, a figure emerged from the trees.
Lucas walked with measured steps, the katana slung over his back, face calm.
The veil of silence peeled away from him as if reality itself were remembering he existed.
The guards tensed, rifles rising.
The Captain lifted a hand, and they lowered them at once.
"Well," she said, eyeing him. "So this is the ghost you were hiding, Megan."
Lucas inclined his head. "Name's Lucas. I didn't mean to alarm anyone."
"You succeeded," she replied dryly. "I barely sensed you crossing the perimeter. That's… unusual."
"I'm not exactly usual," he said quietly.
Her gaze sharpened. "Then you're a Pioneer."
Lucas didn't answer right away. His expression stayed calm but unreadable.
At last, he nodded once.
"Yes."
"What kind?" she asked.
"It doesn't matter," he said evenly. "We just need shelter for the night. We'll leave tomorrow."
A corner of her mouth curved upward—not a smile, exactly, but close.
"Discreet. I like that." She turned to Megan. "Good instincts, girl. Not many could hide a Pioneer from my towers."
The air lightened a fraction.
The wind grew colder; dusk crept over the snow.
The Captain looked up, gauging the fading light.
"Sun's going down," she said. "Bad idea to stay outside. The creatures come down from the hills at night, and the roads freeze to glass."
Her tone shifted—firm but no longer suspicious.
"You can come in. But under watch. Tomorrow we'll discuss your trade.
If your story checks out, we'll make it worth your while."
"That's fair," Megan said.
Lucas stepped forward half a pace.
"We don't want trouble. Whatever rules you have—we'll follow them."
"There are rules," the Captain replied. "And everyone here follows them."
She turned and raised her hand.
"Open it!"
The gate groaned once more.
Warm light spilled out—fires, cabins, people moving.
Children ran between shacks; adults hauled wood, patched walls, stirred food in steaming pots.
Smoke curled into the gray sky.
Lucas watched in quiet awe.
It was the first time in months he'd seen something that resembled civilization.
Megan felt a tremor of hope she hadn't allowed herself in weeks.
"Welcome to Nueva Esperanza," said the Captain, glancing back at them.
"It's no paradise—but it's still standing."
They stepped through the gate.
It shut behind them with a deep, final thud—
not like a prison, but a promise of shelter.
That night, for the first time in weeks,
Lucas and Megan didn't sleep beneath the ice,
but under a wooden roof, surrounded by the murmurs of human life.
Outside, the wind howled against the walls.
Inside, the fire still burned.