Trapped in from

Chapter 5

The days in the town had a way of blending together. Dakota quickly learned that the routine of survival was monotonous but necessary. Every morning, she'd rise with the sun, join the others for breakfast, and then spend the day helping where she could—fixing things, organizing supplies, and getting to know the people who were now her only companions.

She had decided to take Ellis up on his offer and moved into the small house across from him. It wasn't much, but it was hers, and she took some comfort in having her own space. The nights, though, were still the hardest. Even with the doors locked and the windows sealed tight, the memories of those whispers haunted her, making sleep difficult.

One evening, after another long day, Dakota found herself wandering to the edge of the town again, her thoughts heavy. The sky was painted in hues of orange and pink as the sun dipped below the horizon, and she knew she should head back before darkness fully settled in. But something about the fading light, the quiet rustle of the leaves, and the stillness of the air held her in place.

"Hey."

The voice startled her, and she turned to see Ellis approaching. He had a small smile on his face, his hands tucked into his pockets as he walked up beside her.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, glancing at the forest edge she'd been staring at.

"Not at all," Dakota replied, returning his smile. She was grateful for the company, especially his.

They stood together in silence for a few moments, watching as the last of the daylight disappeared, replaced by the soft glow of the rising moon. There was a certain peace in the twilight, a brief moment where the world seemed to hold its breath before the night brought its terrors.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Dakota said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Hard to believe we're trapped in a place like this when it looks so... normal."

"Yeah," Ellis agreed, his gaze distant. "It's easy to forget, just for a moment, that this place is anything but normal."

They fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Dakota found herself glancing at Ellis from the corner of her eye, taking in the way the soft light played across his features. There was a quiet strength about him, something steady and reassuring that she was beginning to rely on more and more.

"Ellis," she began, breaking the silence, "do you ever think about what you'd do if you could leave? If we found a way out?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "All the time. I think about my family, my old life. What I'd do differently if I ever got the chance to go back. But then I remind myself that it doesn't do any good to dwell on what-ifs. We have to focus on the here and now."

"I don't know if I can do that," Dakota admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "I keep thinking there has to be a way out. There has to be something we're missing."

Ellis looked at her, his expression softening. "There's nothing wrong with hope, Dakota. Sometimes, it's the only thing that keeps us going."

She met his gaze, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at the sincerity in his voice. "You've been here so long, Ellis. How do you stay so... grounded? How do you keep from losing yourself?"

He chuckled softly, the sound low and comforting. "I don't know if I'm as grounded as you think. I have my moments, just like everyone else. But I try to focus on the people around me, the ones who need help. It gives me a purpose, something to hold onto."

Dakota nodded, understanding what he meant. She could see it in the way he interacted with the others, always offering a helping hand or a reassuring word. He was the glue that held this fragile community together, and she admired him for it.

"Thank you," she said after a moment, her voice sincere. "For everything. You've been... a rock for me, and I don't think I'd have made it through these first few days without you."

Ellis looked down at her, and for a moment, she thought she saw something flicker in his eyes—something warm and tender, something more than just concern. His hand lifted slightly, as if he wanted to reach out to her, but then he hesitated, letting it fall back to his side.

"You don't have to thank me," he said softly. "We're all in this together. And... I'm glad you're here, Dakota. I know that sounds strange, given the circumstances, but... I mean it."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, and she felt a blush creeping up her cheeks. "I'm glad you're here too, Ellis," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

The moment hung between them, filled with unspoken words and emotions. Dakota could feel the pull, the connection that had been building since the moment they met, and she knew Ellis felt it too. There was something between them, something that went beyond the need for survival. It was a spark, a glimmer of light in the darkness that surrounded them.

Before either of them could say anything more, a distant sound broke the quiet—something rustling in the woods, too close for comfort. The spell was broken, and they both turned instinctively toward the noise, their senses on high alert.

"We should head back," Ellis said, his voice tense.

"Yeah," Dakota agreed, her heart still pounding, but now for a different reason.

As they walked back toward the town, Dakota couldn't help but glance at Ellis, wondering what might have happened if that moment hadn't been interrupted. She felt a mix of emotions—fear, confusion, but also something else, something warmer that she wasn't ready to name just yet.

When they reached the town center, Ellis stopped in front of her house, turning to face her. "Get some rest, Dakota. I'll check in on you in the morning."

She nodded, smiling up at him. "You too, Ellis. And... thanks again. For everything."

He smiled back, and this time, there was no mistaking the warmth in his eyes. "Goodnight, Dakota."

"Goodnight, Ellis."

As she watched him walk across the street to his own house, Dakota felt a strange sense of peace settle over her. The night was still filled with its usual dangers, and the town was still a prison, but somehow, things didn't seem quite as bleak. For the first time since she arrived, she felt like maybe—just maybe—there was something worth holding onto here.

And as she closed the door behind her, she couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow might bring.