Alive

19

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~~~~~~⚫️Chapter 19⚫️~~~~~~
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After Koda's words sank in, leaving me hollow and broken, I found myself stumbling back to the cabin. The weight of his cold, final words crushed me, replaying in my mind: Maybe you should've stayed dead. I barely made it inside before the tears began to fall, thick and silent. I collapsed onto the cot, curling up, the ache in my heart overpowering the physical wounds I bore. The shock, the confusion, the feeling of betrayal—it all swirled together, choking me. I didn't know when I drifted off, but the pain followed me into my dreams, haunting me with shadows of a life I barely remembered.

When I woke up, the early morning light was filtering through the cracks in the cabin walls, casting a soft, pale glow over everything. The camp was already alive with movement. I slipped outside, feeling strangely empty yet unwilling to stay cooped up alone. From my quiet spot by the cabin's edge, I watched the camp come to life.

The place had a roughness to it, a grim resilience that clung to every person I saw. Most of the people here were older men, weathered and burly, each one looking like they'd fought through hell to get here. They moved with a careful purpose, always glancing over their shoulders, as if waiting for the next attack. There were a few women, too, but they looked more on edge, their faces tight with worry and fear, their eyes flicking from one shadow to the next.

The camp itself was a mix of sturdy cabins and makeshift shelters, all arranged in a haphazard circle around a central fire pit that had long gone cold. Some of the cabins were fortified with scavenged materials—scraps of metal, broken beams, anything that could offer some protection. People bustled around, tending to various tasks, their faces etched with a grim determination. It was clear this place was a sanctuary of sorts, but one barely holding on by threads.

As I watched, lost in thought, a young man with dreadlocks approached me. His posture was casual, but his eyes held a sharpness that made me take notice. He looked to be around my age, though something about him felt familiar, like a half-remembered face from a dream.

He stopped a few paces away, giving me a slight nod. "You're new," he said, his voice smooth, though there was a strange edge to it, as if he was holding back something. "Name's Jay."

I nodded, still feeling cautious after last night. "Aisha."

Jay looked at me for a long moment, his gaze lingering on my arms, where the faint red veins still pulsed beneath my skin. "So," he said slowly, tilting his head. "What can you do?"

I stiffened, unsure how much I wanted to reveal. "What do you mean?"

He smirked, a knowing glint in his eyes. "You're like me," he said, as if that explained everything. Then, without warning, he crouched down, gripping the bumper of a nearby rusted truck. With a single smooth motion, he lifted it with one hand, holding it up effortlessly before setting it back down.

I stared, both impressed and wary. "Strength," I murmured, watching as he rolled his shoulders, like lifting a whole truck was as casual as picking up a stick.

Jay shrugged, clearly enjoying the reaction. "That's one part of it." He took a step back and, in an almost fluid motion, began to throw a rapid series of punches into the air, his movements sharp and precise. He backflipped, landing lightly on his feet, before dropping to the ground to do a quick set of push-ups that made his muscles flex beneath his shirt.

As he sprang back up, he shot me a grin, clearly pleased with his own show. "Strength, speed, agility... whatever it is that makes us different, it gives us an edge. So, what about you? Any tricks up your sleeve?"

I hesitated, unsure what to say. Part of me was still trying to make sense of my abilities, and after everything that had happened, I didn't feel particularly inclined to perform. But Jay was watching me expectantly, his gaze both curious and challenging.

Before I could answer, a figure appeared at the edge of my vision. An older man with long white hair and a beard that seemed to add a sense of dignity and mystery. He was watching me from a distance, his eyes sharp and calculating, as if he could see straight through me. His clothes were well-kept compared to the rest of the camp, and he held himself with a strange authority, like someone used to being listened to. The sight of him made my skin prickle with unease.

Jay's expression shifted the moment he noticed the man, his easy confidence fading into something prickly and defensive. "Watch out for him," he muttered to me, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thinks he knows everything."

I glanced back at the older man, feeling an instinctive wariness settle over me. There was something about him that felt off—an intelligence that felt too invasive, too knowing. I didn't have a reason to dislike him, but every instinct screamed that he wasn't to be trusted.

The man approached, his gaze never wavering as he came to a stop in front of me. "You must be Aisha," he said, his voice smooth, with a strange warmth that felt almost forced. "I've heard about you." His eyes lingered on the red veins pulsing faintly under my skin, his expression unreadable.

I crossed my arms, feeling the need to put some kind of barrier between us. "And you are?"

"Call me Dominic," he replied, his gaze not leaving mine. "I help maintain... order around here." His tone suggested he was more than just a camp leader, that there was a subtle power in his words, something that demanded respect without outright saying it.

Jay scoffed softly, folding his arms as he leaned back against a tree, clearly unimpressed. "Yeah, Dominic keeps us all in line," he muttered, the sarcasm dripping from his tone.

Dominic shot Jay a look, one that was both amused and dismissive, as though he were tolerating a child's rebellion. Then, his gaze settled back on me, studying me with that same intense curiosity. "It's rare to find someone like you," he said, his voice almost too calm. "Someone... different."

The way he said it made my skin crawl, and I forced myself to hold his gaze, unwilling to let him see my discomfort. "Guess I'm full of surprises," I replied, trying to keep my tone steady.

He nodded slowly, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Indeed. I'd like to know more about you, Aisha. But first, let's not keep the others waiting. Breakfast is ready." His tone was polite, but there was an edge to it that left no room for argument. Without waiting for my response, he turned and gestured for me to follow.

Jay shot me a look, rolling his eyes. "Good luck," he muttered under his breath, as if I was about to face some trial by fire.

With a sigh, I turned and followed Dominic, my stomach twisting with unease.