Then came the sound.
A faint snap echoed from somewhere behind us. My heart leaped into my throat. I spun around, eyes darting through the dense undergrowth, but there was nothing—just the wind.
Yike cursed under his breath, his hand tightening around the black shoulder bag he carried.
"What was that?" Baihe whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Could've been a branch," Zichen muttered, though his tone lacked conviction.
"Stay alert," Tianyi ordered quietly, her sharp gaze scanning the road ahead. "Keep moving. Don't let your guard down."
Tianyi may be the youngest of our group at the moment but she was indeed the bravest of us all.
The scarred man walked with purpose, though his movements were stiff, as if he carried the weight of countless regrets.
I found myself studying him, trying to decipher the enigma he presented. Who was he? And why did Tianyi trust him when the rest of us couldn't?
We clustered together, eyes fixed on the clearing.
"What is it?" Yike asked, his voice laced with suspicion.
The scarred man didn't answer immediately. His gaze swept over the clearing, his scarred face betraying a flicker of emotion I couldn't quite place—relief? Regret? Both?
"There," he said finally, his voice low. "That's where we're going."
It took a moment for me to see what he was pointing at. At the far end of the clearing stood a small cluster of makeshift shelters, cobbled together from scraps of metal and wood. Smoke rose faintly from a fire pit in the center, a sign of recent activity.
It reminded me of what Devon had to watch recently on his phone, Mad Max: Fury Road, with its rugged, resourceful survivors crafting habitats from whatever they can find. Noting that faint smoke suggests resilience against harsh odds—something frequently depicted in tales of societal collapse or humanity's fight for survival.
As we stepped closer, movement caught my eye. A group of children emerged from one of the shelters—four young girls and two boys, their faces pale and wary. My breath caught as I spotted a woman cradling a small child no older than three. The child's fragile frame was nestled against her chest, but her stiff posture made it clear she was not the mother.
Before we could fully process the scene, two more women appeared, their faces etched with worry.
They moved quickly, their expressions shifting to shock and then relief as they laid eyes on the scarred man. Without hesitation, they ran to him, their arms wrapping around him in an embrace that spoke of a long-lost reunion.
Other children also went rushing toward the other two men who had accompanied us. Their joyful cries rang out, a stark contrast to the tension that had gripped us moments ago. The scene was so unexpected, so surreal, that I found myself frozen, unsure of how to react.
Beside me, Baihe's eyes narrowed. "What's going on?" she murmured, her voice tinged with confusion.
Tianyi stepped forward, her calm demeanor unwavering. She didn't seem surprised by the display of affection, as if she had known all along that this was the destination.
"You knew," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "You trusted them."
Tianyi glanced at me, her expression inscrutable. "Not everyone's intentions are as sinister as they seem," she replied quietly. "Sometimes, trust is a risk worth taking."
Her words stung, a quiet rebuke to the doubt and suspicion I had harbored. I looked back at the scarred man, now speaking softly to the women as they clung to him, tears streaming down their faces. He wasn't the villain I had painted him to be. He was something else entirely—a protector, a survivor, just like the rest of us.
Yike, however, wasn't as convinced. He crossed his arms, his scowl deepening. "So, what now?" he demanded. "We came all this way for a reunion? What about the ambush we were worried about? What about the risk?"
The scarred man turned to face us, his expression hardening. "The risk hasn't disappeared," he said firmly. "But these people are under my protection. And now, so are all of you."
He turned to face us, his expression softer than I'd seen before—a stark contrast to the hardened façade he had carried since we met.
"Thank you," he said, his voice steady but laced with emotion.
Tianyi nodded, her gaze calm and unwavering. "Trust has to be earned, but sometimes it also has to be given. You've done what you could to protect these people. That's enough for me."
The scarred man's eyes flicked to the rest of us, lingering for a moment on Yike's skeptical expression before moving on to Baihe, Zichen, and finally me.
"I know some of you don't believe in me," he continued, his tone quieter now, almost apologetic. "I don't blame you for that. But you came anyway, even with the doubt hanging over you. And for that… thank you."
Yike scoffed, breaking the silence with his usual skepticism. "Touching speech," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But maybe we should talk about what comes next. Staying here? Yeah, not gonna happen. If you think this is safe, you're delusional. We need to go back to the main group."
The scarred man's gratitude didn't fade, but his expression hardened as he turned to face Yike. "The path back isn't safe," he said firmly. "You know that as well as I do. If you want to put everyone's lives at risk, fine. But don't pretend it's the better option."
The group exchanged uneasy glances.
The open path we had traversed earlier was dangerous enough in daylight. With evening fast approaching, the risks would multiply.
"Staying here is suicide," he snapped, pacing like a restless predator. "We're out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by shelters that might as well be painted with targets. Going back is the only logical choice."
Tianyi remained calm, her voice steady as she responded. "You're assuming the main group is safer," she said. "But the truth is, we don't know what's happened to them. For all we know, staying here could be the better option."
Yike's face darkened, his temper flaring. "Better option? Are you kidding me? The open path is dangerous, sure, but at least we won't be sitting ducks here."