4

Doubts signify the disbelief in yourself.

Khalani licked her cracked, sunburned lips. She drank the last of her warm water hours ago, and her canteen was as barren as the desert they trudged through.

Mirages of flowing water spilled across the concrete, torturing Khalani’s mind as her feet mindlessly dragged, each step more reluctant than the last.

Brock’s steady pace quickened, insisting a Death-Zone water well was nearby and urged everyone to move faster.

She tried her best to keep up, but it might not be so bad if she just lay down on the road…

“C’mon, Khalani,” Derek urged, pressing a hand against her back, keeping her upright. “We’re almost there.”

She blinked multiple times, trying to clear her blurry vision.

No one spoke. The playful energy had vanished.

All that remained was their labored breathing and the sound of heavy boots smacking against the ground.

She glanced to her right. Takeshi had his strong arm around Winnie’s waist, supporting most of her weight. As they walked, Winnie’s face was unnaturally pale, and her feet dragged like a heavy ball was attached to her ankles.

When Khalani realized she was no longer sweating, even while the sun blazed down the back of her neck, a dreaded apprehension sunk deep into her gut.

“There,” Brock said, interrupting the tense quiet. Her knees nearly buckled as he pointed ahead. She scanned the horizon for the beautiful well—their only hope of survival in the Death-Zone.

But there was nothing except the barren road, brown jagged cliffs, and endless stretches of sand.

“Brock, where’s the well?” Khalani croaked, her voice hoarse.

Brock ignored her question and bolted toward a thin green stick protruding from the sand. He knelt, scanning the ground intensely as he muttered under his breath.

“If your plan is for us to eat sand next, I’m definitely killing you,” Serene huffed with her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

“Shut up,” Brock growled, digging frantically into the sand.

Khalani swayed on her feet, her eyelids starting to close when Brock suddenly shouted, “I found it!”

He uncovered a beige hatch buried beneath the sand. A set of numbers were discreetly etched on the surface, and without hesitation, Brock entered a ten-digit code.

With a satisfying pop, the cover opened, revealing a dark hole in the ground and a long rope leading into its black depths.

She warily stumbled forward as Brock began pulling on the rope, gritting his teeth as his forearms flexed. Khalani’s limbs shook, ready to give way, but as soon as Brock lifted a large bucket full of water out of the hole, everyone surged forward, dire thirst clawing at them like ravenous beasts.

“Drink slowly,” Brock instructed as he filled each of their canteens. He lowered the bucket back into the hole and continuously refilled it.

The water was warm, but she didn’t care.

The water could’ve been littered with thick sand and crawling with insects, and Khalani would’ve gulped it down without hesitation.

It was the best thing she’d ever tasted, and as she eyed the deep hole between sips, she felt a dangerous temptation to dive in and wash away her problems with it.

“Who built this? Where does the water come from?” Adan asked, splashing some precious liquid onto his face.

“When Apollo and Hermes were first built, they constructed these wells across the Death-Zone for trading supplies. There are about seven in total. These pumps go deep underground, connected to a large river near Hermes. Colod or Colorda… I can’t remember the name.” Brock shrugged, taking a massive swig from his canteen.

“Weren’t they worried about the water being contaminated?” Derek frowned, eyeing his cup warily.

“Of course.” Brock wiped his lips. “But Death-Zoner radiation suits were designed with special filtrations to purify the water.”

She felt a shift in the air.

None of them wore radiation suits.

If the water was indeed contaminated, they had all just drunk their death sentence.

But Brock’s lips thinned, and defiantly, he took another sip. “Since we’re all still alive, with no signs of radiation sickness, I’ll take my chances on the water.”

No one argued with that.

Only when nausea burned in her throat from drinking too quickly did Khalani set her canteen down and lay back against the sand. Her heart slowed, her muscles loosened, and energy gradually returned to her limbs.

She moved her arm over her face, covering her eyes. After a moment, Khalani shifted her forearm, daring to peek at the sun…only to be blinded.

The pain didn’t deter her from trying again and again.

Going her entire life without witnessing the sun, only to have it floating right above her and still not be able to gaze directly upon it, was infuriating.

Only when her vision filled with white spots and she feared going blind did Khalani finally give up.

“Alright,” Brock said a half-hour later. “We have plenty of water, and you’ve all had your chance to rest. Let’s go.”

***

Khalani’s sweaty arm trembled as she supported Winnie’s fragile back. Mile after mile, they walked, surrounded by the broken vestiges of cars, crumbled buildings, and torn-down signs.

She imagined what the apocalyptic road must have looked like before the Great Collapse.

Winnie told her stories of metal buildings that stretched to the clouds. People moving endlessly in the hopes of not getting left behind, because change happened every day, and if you stopped for a moment to breathe, the world would sail right past you.

In one moment, a promising life could be held in your hands, and in the next, everything could wither away, like forgotten sand sifting through your fingers.

What if their journey ended in the same perilous manner as their ancestors?

“You okay, dear?” Winnie asked, her warm gaze sliding to Khalani.

“Yeah,” she absentmindedly answered, staring at the footprints Brock left in the sand.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine.”

Winnie cocked her head, frowning at Khalani’s brusque tone. “You know you can tell Winnie the truth, right?”

Khalani inhaled deeply, guilt overpowering her for snapping at the person she loved most. “I’m sorry, Winnie. I’m just worried. What if we reach Hermes and the man on the walkie doesn’t meet us? Or what if we get locked out on the surface? What if leaving was a mistake?” The words spilled out in a rush, her heartbeat quickening with each dire possibility that engulfed her mind.

Success was never a guarantee. In fact, defeat felt more likely every day. But this time, it wasn’t only her life on the line. Khalani managed to convince six people to escape Apollo with her.

If something went wrong, their deaths would fall at her feet.

“It wasn’t a mistake. Because of you, we uncovered the truth about the surface. Isn’t it gorgeous?” Winnie looked around, wide-eyed, as if a kaleidoscope of bright, effervescent colors streaked across the sandy desert.

Khalani lifted her gaze. Dust floated in the air, and in the far-off distance, several buildings were crumpled on the ground, completely abandoned to the wasteland.

“That’s not the word I would use,” she hedged.

“Can’t you hear the grass?”

“What grass, Winnie?”

Winnie shakily lifted her finger and pointed ahead. “Right there, Khalani. Don’t you hear the softest grass whistling in the wind? Can’t you see the oaks and evergreens surrounding us?”

Khalani’s brows knitted, scanning the piles of ruin around them. “I don’t see anything, Winnie.”

“Try, Khalani. See it in your mind’s eye, like you used to tell Winnie in Braderhelm. Remember? Just imagine it.”

Her mouth parted. In prison, she’d stare at the ceiling of her cell at night, absorbing tales of the surface from Winnie’s old books. She imagined plants stretching across the stone, the sun and moon peaking over the cracks, ocean waves crashing against rocks.

She’d never witnessed such awe-inspiring acts before. But her mind stretched out and manifested the images, like the memories of those who came before resided in her blood.

But ever since she discovered the Governor was nothing more than a machine, those images faded.

As if the truth had obliterated everything in her mind and left nothing but deadly hate. It boiled beneath her skin, forcing dangerous questions to consume her.

Did the Governor speak with her so frequently in Apollo because he found a reflection of himself?

Was she that similar?

That…inhuman?

“I can’t see anything anymore, Winnie. I’ve tried every night, but all I see is black.” Her chin trembled. “What if something’s wrong with me?”

“There is nothing wrong with you.”

She shook her head, her throat tightening. “In Apollo, the Governor kept wanting to be near me. He looked at me like he recognized something similar.” Khalani paused, and the thoughts she tried to shove away rushed forth with a vengeance. “What if I’m the same as him?”

Winnie jerked to a stop, and Khalani rushed to speak while she still had the courage. “I cut my hand every night. It bleeds—the same color red as everyone else’s. But I don’t feel anything. No pain. Just this strange detachment. Like I’m here physically, but not really here,” she emphasized, her eyes beginning to water.

“Stop. Look at Winnie.” Winnie locked eyes with her, and Khalani swam in the warm brown of the earth. “You are not your fears. Do you understand?”

A lone tear slid down her cheek.

“Khalani.” Winnie cupped a cold hand to her face. “Even those who feel the most can feel empty. Do you want to know what it means to be alive? It’s not perfection. It’s not being okay all the time. It’s having fears. Feeling like you aren’t good enough. Trying every day to be better. Your tears reflect how beautifully imperfect you are. What could be more human than that?”

Her tears slid through Winnie’s fingers. Like drops of hope in an empty desert.

“Please never leave me,” she whispered.

“Winnie is right here,” Winnie touched the center of her chest, “for the rest of existence.”

Khalani hugged her tighter, and she imagined they were back in the Braderhelm library, surrounded by stories that made her heart storm out of her chest. The worries in her mind abated, and her thoughts quieted for the first time in weeks.

Suddenly, thin arms shot around them like a cannon, and Serene’s muffled voice came. “I want in on this cuddle puddle of feelings.”

Khalani choked out a laugh when Derek joined the fray and wrapped his arms around them, squeezing tighter. “I have no idea what’s going on. I’m just here to provide emotional support.”

“What are you guys doing?” Adan stopped, glancing over like they’d all finally lost their minds.

“Don’t ask questions,” Serene quipped. “Just get over here.”

Khalani didn’t want to think about how they looked, bear-hugging each other in the middle of the apocalyptic road.

She didn’t care.

She used to think friends were people you felt comfortable with.

But she believed friends were the ones who silenced your doubts.

“What is happening? Why the hell are all of you hugging like a bunch of stuffed toys?” Brock yelled.

“Spoken like someone who’s never owned a toy,” Serene retorted.

“This isn’t the time or place. Stop touching each other and start walking.”

“We’re taking a short break,” Winnie said, a firmness in her voice she hadn’t heard before as they let each other go. She patted Khalani’s cheek and smiled, letting her know everything would be okay. Better than okay.

“Absolutely not,” Brock growled. “We keep moving.”

“No. We are taking a break.” Winnie dared to defy him.

Brock opened his mouth to argue, but a stronger voice echoed across the desert.

“You heard them, Death-Zoner. They need a break,” Takeshi commanded.

Brock glared at the steadfast Captain, a muscle twitching under his eye, but he eventually threw up his hands and stalked off, grumbling under his breath about stubborn women.

Khalani let out a deep sigh, still sniffling as she set her heavy backpack down on the sandy pavement next to the others. Stretching her arms behind her, she lifted her head to the sun.

She closed her eyes, relishing in the breeze that fluttered past her, something she’d never truly experienced in the underground.

Khalani found kinship with the wind. She too wanted to be everywhere.

Unseen. Significant.

A weighty gaze swept over her skin, and goosebumps slid up her arms. She didn’t need to look to guess who was studying the cracks in her carefully cultivated armor. She promptly wiped her nose, trying to hide the evidence of tears.

“You should sit if you’re not feeling good.”

She startled and realized Takeshi stood right next to her. His large frame blocked the afternoon sun, casting a dark shadow over her.

She took a step back, maintaining as much distance as possible. “I’m fine.”

“Why are you crying, then?”

“Got sand in my eye.”

“Still love to lie, huh?”

She huffed, sending a vicious glare his way.

Takeshi’s cutting words from the other day sprang back to haunt and embarrass her, igniting a fire in her already volatile mood.

“Don’t you have better things to do than stalk me?”

He looked around at the barren road. “Not really.”

“You see that hill over there? It probably hasn’t been glared at in a while.”

“You’re still mad,” he pointed out, cocking his head.

“Wow. Great observational skills.”

“If you refuse to rest, why don’t you do something about your anger then?”

“If it’s something that will make you disappear, I’m all ears.” She squared her body to face him, crossing her arms and mirroring his stance.

“Fight me, and I won’t speak to you the rest of the way to Hermes.” His deep voice carried with the wind, sending chills down her spine.

She swallowed, feeling like she was stepping into a carefully laid trap.

“Why? In our last conversation, you agreed that everything was over between us.”

“That was before you punched me.”

“You deserved it!”

“And your aim was terrible,” Takeshi added, ignoring her comment. “The force was there, but your technique was mediocre at best. You’ve already forgotten everything I taught you.”

She gnashed her teeth together. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Do you?” He inclined his head.

“You’re goading me to fight because, for some sick reason, you enjoy seeing me suffer. News flash. It’s not going to work this time.” She straightened, lifting her chin so their faces were mere inches apart.

His gaze drifted down, studying every subtle shift in her expression.

And disappointment flashed in his eyes.

“Interesting. I never thought you’d be the one to back down from a challenge.”

He abruptly turned, leaving her behind like an inconsequential afterthought. A fire started from her toes, wiggling up to her ankles, shredding past her legs, warming her stomach, and injecting straight into her heart.

“Now that you mention it.” She walked toward him, and Takeshi paused, glancing over his shoulder. “Punching you again sounds like a fantastic idea.”

Takeshi’s upper lip twitched, an indecipherable emotion coiling in his eyes before his expression swiftly hardened, and he continued marching away. Wordlessly, she followed.

Her brows furrowed when he stopped just a few feet away from the others.

Winnie, Serene, Derek, and Adan sat on a soft patch of sand next to the deserted highway. Brock perched on the hood of a nearby black car, one foot bent and planted beside him, the other sprawled straight out as he checked the ammo in his pistol.

“You ready, Kanes?” Takeshi asked. “You look distracted.”

“We’re doing this here? In front of everyone?” Khalani’s pulse quickened as she felt all eyes center on them.

“If you can’t practice with an audience, you won’t be able to fight in real life.”

Khalani wanted to yell as she faced him head-on, but maybe this was good. She had a barrel-load of pent-up energy, and quite frankly, a better punching bag didn’t exist.

“Are you guys about to have angry sex or something?” Serene asked in a bored voice.

“NO!” she exclaimed a little too strongly. “I’d sooner impale myself on a spiked stick.

A bark of laughter sounded from her left. “Looks like you’re losing the fight, Captain. Better watch your step before someone else races past you,” Brock interjected.

Khalani scowled in his direction. Brock didn’t like her. He just enjoyed egging Takeshi on. As if he wanted to see just how long it would take for a ticking bomb to explode.

Takeshi’s answering chuckle was laced with depravity. “If you’re that confident, Death-Zoner, you can fight me instead. But don’t expect sympathy when I leave you with fewer limbs.”

Her eyes widened as Brock immediately hopped down from the car, palming his gun. Takeshi straightened and calmly pulled a blade from his pocket.

“Whoa, whoa.” Khalani stepped in between them, holding her palms out. “No one’s losing any limbs on my watch.”

“Relax, Khalani.” Brock grinned. “I’ll let you have your turn after. Besides, I won’t kill him. Just some healthy exercise is all, right?”

“Isn’t your arm still injured?” she asked incredulously.

“I’ve handled worse.” Brock took the sling off, flinging it to the ground. “He could use the advantage anyway.”

Takeshi’s body was taut as a bow string, like he’d been patiently waiting for this moment. When he licked his lips, her face paled, genuinely worried for the survival of their only guide on the surface.

Her fear only intensified when Brock announced, “No weapons,” extending his pistol toward her.

“For safekeeping.” He winked.

A split second later, Takeshi’s sharp blade flew a centimeter past Brock’s ear, embedding itself in a deflated car tire behind them.

“I think that’s a great idea.”

Takeshi tossed his black jacket onto the sand and rolled up his sleeves, revealing the corded veins in his forearms.

Oh, boy.

Serene tugged on Khalani’s elbow, pulling her a few feet back. “Sit down. We’re definitely not missing this.”

“Who you got?” Derek asked.

“I’m thinking Brock,” Adan replied eagerly.

“I don’t know, man. He’s big, but Steele has that killer instinct.”

Truer words were never spoken.

“Name the limits.” Takeshi peered down, assessing his opponent.

Brock rolled his neck. “We go until one of us taps out. I think it goes without saying that I’m not allowed to kill you, much as I’d enjoy it otherwise.”

“That’s a shame,” Takeshi whispered like a walking nightmare. “I was hoping we could play harder.”

Brock grinned, stepping back a few paces, and he held his fists in front of his face. “Ready?”

Takeshi nodded, holding his body incredibly still.

Brock’s shorter, stockier build contrasted with Takeshi’s tall, athletic frame, honed by years of rigorous training.

Everyone froze, waiting for the first move.

Brock shot forward, faster than a sailing bullet, launching his right fist.

Takeshi leaned back, but Brock feinted and sent a punch directly to his ribs. Takeshi smacked his arm away and cracked Brock in the chin.

The impact made everyone wince.

Brock recovered and kicked Takeshi’s knee. Takeshi stumbled but drove his elbow under Brock’s chin. Brock threw his head back, and Takeshi followed with a powerful blow to his chest

Khalani realized just how much he’d held back in their fights. Compared to this, Takeshi treated her as if she were made of glass.

Brock regained his footing and snatched Takeshi’s elbow, throwing him over his shoulder. In the same moment, Takeshi grabbed his neck, bringing Brock to the ground with him.

They grappled fiercely until Brock gained the upper hand and landed a solid punch across his cheekbone. Her whole body tensed, but Takeshi smiled and struck Brock in the throat. Brock heaved out, and that’s when Takeshi muscled his way on top and threw another punch.

But Brock somehow managed to block it and smashed his forehead against Takeshi’s.

Takeshi gnashed his teeth and maneuvered himself under Brock, locking him in a chokehold.

“Stop!” Derek suddenly yelled.

Without hesitation, Takeshi released Brock, and they all spun to Derek, confused.

“What the hell is that?” Derek pointed to the right.

They turned in unison.

Far off in the distance, a massive wall of sand advanced toward them. It had no end in sight and stretched to the heavens.

They all sucked in a collective breath as a stronger wind whipped sand across Khalani’s cheeks.

The storm surged closer, racing toward them with a speed she hadn’t thought was possible.

Brock rose to his feet, and for the first time, true fear reflected in his eyes.

“Run!”