And Then, The World Ended

Chapter 12 Noah

Panic surges as I sift through the crowd, the chaos that's unfolding around me like a storm. Hayes had got on the bus, I can't find anyone. The evacuation has thrown everyone into a frenzy. I check my pockets again, my phone is gone.

"Hey! Have you seen Sophie? Jordan?" My voice barely cuts through the noise.

People brush past me, faces filled with fear and urgency. I shove my way through the gathering of panicked travelers, eyes darting from one unfamiliar face to another. No sign of them.

I retrace my steps to our room to look for my phone, hoping it might be there—maybe I left it on the bed or slipped it into my bag without realizing it. My breath quickens with each step back towards the hotel.

The room door swings open easily. I scan the place, no phone sits on the bedside table or peeks out from under the pillows.

"Come on," I mutter to myself, frustration settles in. "It has to be here."

I dig through my backpack again, rifling through every pocket like a man possessed. Nothing but an old candy wrapper and an empty water bottle greet me.

With a sigh, I slam the bag shut and bolt back downstairs.

Once in the lobby, I scan for familiar faces again but only see strangers engulfed in their own worries. The buses must have left already; all that's left are a few staff members trying to maintain order among the last of us.

"Excuse me!" I wave at a hotel employee who looks busy directing people towards an exit.

She turns. "Yes?"

"I'm looking for some friends." My voice is strained as panic claws at my chest. "Have you seen them?"

"No, sorry," she replies curtly before turning back to her work.

My stomach drops further as reality sinks in—I'm alone here, with no way to contact anyone. No phone means no communication, and suddenly all this mess feels even more suffocating.

Without a plan and nowhere else to go, I decide to walk toward town; maybe I'll stumble upon them or at least find some semblance of calm in this madness.

Each step feels heavy around me like a thick fog. As I round a corner into a quieter alleyway lined with small shops, shadows flicker at the edges of my vision. The uneasy feeling doesn't leave me as I continue walking; rather it clings tighter with each passing moment.

A slight of movement catches my eye just ahead, a figure lurking just out of sight between two buildings. My heart thuds harder against my ribcage as recognition hits like ice water pouring over me; it's him. the one who's been watching me since we arrived in Japan.

I freeze for a split second before instincts kick in; something primal screams at me to get out of there now!

"Hey!" My voice cracks as I shout at him, not knowing if confrontation is wise or even safe right now.

He straightens up slowly, revealing himself fully from behind the shadows, a dark hoodie pulled tight around his face obscures his features, but his eyes glint dangerously in the dim light.

"What do you want?" I say softly.

He doesn't respond, rather takes a step closer, yet something about his posture seems off—as if he's measuring his next move against mine instead of rushing forward recklessly.

My gut twists painfully; fight or flight runs through every vein in my body while adrenaline courses hotly beneath my skin.

"What are you doing here?" My voice comes out sharper than intended despite trembling slightly under his gaze—the uncertainty brewing between us hangs heavy in this narrow alleyway cluttered with remnants of someone's forgotten life: cardboard boxes and trash on the cold, wet concrete like discarded dreams mingled with despair.