Chapter 15: Ashes Burn Quietest
Time: 8:17 P.M.
The fire was small—on purpose.
Selene had cleared the brush and dug a shallow pit behind the ridge wall, keeping the flame low and hidden from view. The air was sharp up here, and the stars, when they appeared, felt too honest to look at for long.
Aria sat cross-legged near the fire, nursing a bruised silence. A half-eaten ration bar lay on the crate beside her. She didn't remember opening it.
Selene checked the perimeter. Every few minutes she vanished into the dark with her rifle, then returned like smoke—soundless, certain.
They hadn't spoken much since the ruins of Sector Nine.
Aria finally broke the silence. "You knew I'd change after I saw it, didn't you?"
Selene didn't answer right away. She crouched near the fire, adjusting the flame with a stick like she was trying to read its language.
"You had to," she said at last. "If you didn't, I'd have left you there."
Aria's lips parted, shocked. But Selene kept her eyes on the fire.
"Because this world doesn't bend for innocence. It breaks it. Quietly. All at once."
Aria looked down at her hands. They were still trembling, just barely. Not from cold.
She whispered, "Do you ever wish you were wrong about all of it?"
Selene looked up. For a moment, her face softened.
"I wish none of it had to be true."
—
Time: 8:42 P.M.
The wind shifted.
It wasn't loud, not even sharp—but something in it felt off.
Selene stiffened. The rifle in her lap was in her hands before Aria even noticed her move.
"What is it?" Aria asked.
Selene motioned with two fingers. Down. Quiet.
Aria obeyed instantly, flattening herself beside the fire pit as Selene slipped into the dark again.
The seconds stretched. A twig cracked somewhere uphill.
Aria's heart galloped.
Then—footsteps.
Not Selene's. Slower. Hesitant. Untrained.
And then a voice:
"Don't shoot. I'm not armed."
Aria peeked over the pit's edge. A figure approached, hands raised—pale face drawn and thin, eyes hollowed from exhaustion.
A girl. Maybe nineteen. Maybe older. Dirt-streaked, wrapped in a tattered field coat two sizes too big.
Selene stepped out of the trees, rifle steady but pointed low.
"Stop right there," she ordered.
The girl froze. "I saw your smoke. Just needed warmth. Please."
Aria stood slowly. "What's your name?"
"Mae."
"How long have you been out here?" Selene asked, voice sharp.
Mae hesitated. "Since I escaped the northern quarantine station. Two nights ago."
Selene's gaze sharpened like a blade unsheathed. "There are no quarantine stations left."
Mae didn't speak. But the way her mouth trembled said enough.
Aria approached cautiously, stepping between them. "Let her sit, Selene. She's starving."
Selene didn't lower the rifle, but she gave a short nod.
Mae sank beside the fire like her bones were dissolving. Aria handed her the ration bar she hadn't finished.
She devoured it in three bites.
—
Time: 9:10 P.M.
The fire burned lower. The shadows danced higher.
Mae stared into the flames. Her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke again.
"They told us the infection was under control. That reinforcements were coming. But they stopped feeding us. One by one, people just… stopped getting up."
Selene said nothing. Aria watched her face tighten, jaw clenched.
"They weren't sick," Mae added, quieter now. "They were just forgotten."
Silence settled again. It wasn't peace—it was grief taking off its shoes.
"I'm not going back," Mae said finally.
"You won't have to," Aria said softly, without even glancing at Selene for permission.
Selene didn't object.
Mae looked at them both. "You have a plan?"
Selene leaned back. The firelight carved her face into sharp lines, all shadow and conviction.
"No one gets to survive alone. That lie is what killed the zones. So yes. We have a plan."
Aria looked at her—not as a follower, not as a passenger.
As someone who understood now.
The fire cracked once, loud and sudden, scattering ash into the night air like a flock of tiny ghosts.
Somewhere behind them, the horizon was still burning.