The forest spat them out at last—branches thinning, the dirt trail widening, the morning light finally breaking through like it had been waiting for them. Richard didn't slow down until the trees were behind them completely.
Tim groaned against his back. "Dude… you run like a tank," he muttered weakly.
Richard adjusted his grip and kept moving. Tango hung over his other shoulder like a half-conscious backpack, mumbling nonsense every few steps. "Bro… I think that thing punched my soul…"
"You'll live," Richard said, voice steady. "Barely."
Devon jogged beside him, scraped up, out of breath, but still trying to act like he had everything under control. "We need Luna. She lives closest. And she won't freak out… hopefully."
Tim snorted. "She's my cousin. She's definitely gonna freak out."
But Luna didn't.
When they finally reached her house—a small blue place tucked at the end of a quiet early-2000s neighborhood—she opened the door before they even knocked. One look at Tim on Richard's back and Tango half-dead on the other side, and her eyes went wide.
"What. Happened."
Richard walked past her into the living room like a man on a mission. "Long story. We need your help."
Luna shut the door fast. "Uh, yeah, clearly!"
She rushed Tim first, checking his bruises, then turned to Tango, who tried to sit up but immediately regretted it. "Lunaaa, I'm dying. Be nice to me," he croaked.
"You're being dramatic," she said, though her voice shook a little.
While Luna grabbed first-aid supplies—old-school stuff, peroxide and gauze from a plastic box—Devon paced the room, hair still full of leaves. "Luna, listen. Something attacked us. Not an animal. Not a person. Something else."
Tim nodded weakly. "It looked like a person… but wrong."
Richard finally lowered Tango onto the couch and straightened. His shirt was ripped, dirt streaked across his arms, eyes still sharp, still scanning every window like the creature might've followed.
"It's called a Plagued," he said quietly. "At least… that's what I think. Whatever it is, it wasn't the only one out there."
Luna froze mid-bandage. "You're joking, right?"
Richard shook his head. No hesitation. No doubt.
Something in the room shifted—fear, reality, the tension of the unknown settling into their bones.
Luna swallowed hard, then stood. "Okay. Sit. Fix them up. Tell me everything."
Minutes later, with Tim and Tango patched, hydrated, and lying down under blankets, the four boys finally sat around Luna's living room.
It was the first moment of calm they'd had since the forest.
And for the first time, the group—though small—was together.
Not safe.Not fully healed.But together.
And that was enough… for now.