Through The Ashes

31

The sharp gusts of wind bite at Jorn's face as she steps outside the safety of the camp for the first time in nearly a month.

It feels strange to be out here again, walking the cracked streets of the abandoned city with her rifle in her hands, Spencer's katana slugged around her back. The crumbling buildings overlook them like silent witnesses to the world that used to be.

Jorn had grown used to the stillness of recovery, used to the sound of wind through the trees, the crackling of fires at night, and Mara at her side. But out here, everything feels different. The silence isn't peaceful—it's dangerous, and solemn, like it's waiting for something to break it.

Mara walks just ahead, her movements quiet and confident, examining their surroundings. Harrem and Yosef are spread out, moving like a practiced unit, but Jorn feels disconnected. Her steps feel too loud, too uncertain, like she's out of place in this world she used to know so well. The city feels unfamiliar now as if the time spent in camp has dulled her edge.

She stops for a moment, fingers flexing on the strap of her rifle, scanning the horizon for movement. There's nothing. Not yet. But the quiet makes her skin prickle, and for the first time in a long time, she feels unsure.

"You okay?" Mara's voice cuts through her thoughts, gentle but concerned. She's stopped too, turning to look at Jorn with a slight frown.

Jorn hesitates, her instincts screaming at her to say she's fine, to push forward, to keep her mask up. But the force of the city presses down on her, and for a second, she can't shake the feeling that something is off.

Maybe it's the time she spent in camp, or maybe it's her body, not fully trusting itself yet after being laid up for so long. Or maybe it's something deeper—something she doesn't want to admit.

I'm fine," she says, but the words don't come out as strong as she wants. She forces herself to keep moving, but doubt lingers.

They move deeper into the city, scavenging through the remains of stores, old buildings, and places that might still hold something useful. But every sound—the crunch of glass beneath her boots, the distant creak of metal—feels intensified. She catches herself looking over her shoulder more often than she should.

At one point, Harrem and Yosef split to cover more ground, and Mara stays close to Jorn. They don't talk much, but Mara's presence keeps her from floating off.

Still, it doesn't ease the feeling inside her. The old confidence she used to have out here, the sharp instincts that kept her alive, feel muted. She's second-guessing every decision, every movement.

As they move through an alleyway between two collapsed buildings, Jorn freezes. Something shifts in the corner of her eye—just a flicker of movement, too fast to place. Her heart lurches, adrenaline surging through her veins.

"Did you see that?" she whispers, gripping her rifle a little tighter.

Mara follows her gaze, scanning the alley. "I didn't see anything."

But Jorn's instincts scream at her that something's there. She takes a step forward, her body tense, ready for a fight. Her pulse quickens, and every nerve in her body is on high alert.

Then, she hears it. The faintest rustle behind them.

She spins, gun raised, but nothing is there. Just the wind, stirring the debris in the alley. Jorn breathes hard, her heart pounding. She can feel Mara's eyes on her, concern deepening.

"Jorn..." Mara says quietly, her voice careful. "You're okay. There's nothing there."

She lowers her rifle, but her hands are shaking. She curses under her breath, frustration and doubt swirling inside her. She's supposed to be a hunter. This is supposed to be second nature to her. But right now, she feels susceptible—powerless in a way she hasn't felt in forever.