The Garden of Eden (Silent Moments Series: Book 5)

Chapter 12

 As Jackson and I navigated through the makeshift camp, tending to those who had fallen sick, his words carried a weight of unspoken stories from the bunker. "I could've used you in the bunker, Kegan," he remarked, his gaze lingering a moment longer on a patient before meeting mine. There was a depth in his eyes, a reflection of experiences untold.

I responded modestly, trying to deflect the compliment. "I don't know that much, just what Clarke had showed me. Besides, you had my mother," I said, thinking back to the skills Clarke had imparted, which seemed so basic yet vital in our world.

Jackson paused, his attention momentarily drifting away from our task. "Maybe you don't know as much as they did, but you pick up quick," he said, a note of admiration in his voice. He was careful to keep his eyes trained on the ground, as if avoiding a deeper conversation about the past.

Driven by a need to understand, I probed further into the bunker's dark history. "Why was she afraid?" I asked. The question seemed to hit a nerve. Jackson abruptly walked away, his steps quickening as if to escape the memories.

"Jackson, hey," I called softly, concern in my voice, but he didn't stop. His retreat left me with more questions than answers.

Our interaction was interrupted by Miller's arrival. He greeted Jackson with warmth and affection, a stark contrast to the tension that hung over the camp. Their embrace and kiss were brief moments of tenderness in an otherwise harsh reality. I tried to catch Miller's attention, but he walked past me, his mind seemingly preoccupied.

Determined to get answers, I followed him. "Miller!" I called out, my voice echoing slightly in the open space. He continued on his path, focused on a mission only he knew.

Reaching the camp's main clearing, I saw Octavia commanding her troops with an air of authority. It was clear something was about to happen. Bellamy stepped in front of Miller, blocking his path with a mix of concern and frustration. "Where are you going?" he demanded.

Miller's response, vague and tinged with resignation, hinted at Octavia's influence over him. "Wish I could tell you, Bellamy," he sighed, his tone conveying a sense of inevitability.

Putting the pieces together, I spoke up. "You're going to Shallow Valley," I said, a realization dawning on me. My assertion drew their attention, and without waiting for a response, I set off to find Octavia.

"Kegan. Kegan!" Miller's voice followed me, a blend of warning and exasperation. "You can't just do whatever the hell you want here."

I stopped and faced him, my expression determined. "I'm guessing you're moving ahead of the army, to scout forward terrain. Which route are you taking?" I pressed, my voice firm. Seeing his hesitation, I continued, "It's sandstorm season. The wind moves in a predictable path. I've made the trip dozens of times. Trust me. You need my help."

After a moment of silent contemplation, Miller nodded, a silent acknowledgment of my expertise. He agreed to take me to Octavia, recognizing that my knowledge could be crucial to their mission's success.

As I followed Miller into the strategy room, Indra's questioning gaze met mine. "Why? What are you thinking?" she asked, her tone a mix of concern and skepticism.

"My question exactly," I replied sharply, feeling the weight of the situation.

Miller, sensing the mounting tension, interrupted Indra before she could press further. "I know my orders," he said firmly, removing his hood. "But I think we should listen to what Kegan has to say."

"You can't take the sea route," I began, addressing Octavia directly. Bellamy joined me, lending his support to my argument.

"Why?" Indra pressed, her practical nature seeking clarity. "You said the sea is gone. Is it passable or not?"