Emily

Why did he have to play the hero?

His name says it all. His brave move drags us deeper into this hopeless hole. No matter what he did, the Freaks were determined to consume the fat child.

And now we're here.

I don't even know what to say to the kids in this shitty situation. It's so sad what happened to Hero and the chubby child.

Thoughts of Hero consume my mind.

Will he become their thirst-quencher?

I hope he somehow finds his way back to me—I mean... find his way to safety.

What's up with me? Since when did I want him around?

It's like we're joined at the hip.

No, never. Not in this brutal world. I must stay focused on my goal.

I knew this dangerous outcome could happen in the 51st State.

A tear traces its path down my right cheek.

No, I can't allow this! I refuse to mourn for him... I mean... for them.

Too late.

The floodgates have opened, and I can't stop the tears from flowing.

I haven't felt such overwhelming sadness in a long time.

Hero has sparked something in me—something I've never felt before... hope... a reason to keep going. His absence feels even worse now that the Freaks have taken away my light.

God, if Hero is still alive, grant him the strength to escape and save us. I swear I'll be nice to him.

The stars twinkle above, casting a gentle blue-white glow upon every surface.

The Freaks made us a meaty stew to fill us up. I've banned everyone, even myself, from eating that meat because the story behind it is just too horrifying.

I peer through the worn wooden bars.

How can I get through this dangerous area without the Freaks noticing?

I rub my hands over my eyes, getting rid of the old tear marks.

A small hand touches my back.

"Are you okay?" a timid voice asks.

I turn around and kneel to meet the eye level of a young child. "Hey there, little one... yes, I'm all right."

"Do you know where our friend went?" the child asks.

"You mean the fat boy?"

The child furrows his brow. "He's not fat. He's chubby."

I can't help but feel guilty when I see the stew. "He's far away from here," I reply, my voice strained."He's in a better place."

The child's lips curl into a faint smile. "You'll get us out of here, won't you?"

"I'm trying my best," I say. "I need something to cut these ropes that bind the fence together."

"We'll help you find it," the child says, their smile growing wider.

"Thank you... I know you will, and I appreciate it," I reply, patting the child on the cheek.

He returns to his friends, huddling up for warmth and trying to find comfort in sleep.

It might be a smart move to get some rest.

I am tired, too... We'll be here for longer since we refuse to eat their tainted food.

Hold on, Mom and Dad... and... Hero... I...

Here come the tears again.

____

Hero

From white smoke a girl with red hair and blue eyes appears. Flames surround her.

"Hero, I've warned you," she yells.

"Elara?"

I can't remember her face anymore. It's like she's fading from my memories.

"She'll only cause you more trouble... This is what you..."

"Shut up!"

"You'll know I'll be gone forever if you go on with her like this."

"I don't care! She's my friend!"

Her surrounding fire dies out, and her eyes turn to big brown as her skin turns to caramel.

"Hero?"

"What's happening?"

"It's time for you to wake up."

"Emily, is everything okay?"

"Wake up," she whispers.

Light.

I awaken to a pounding headache, my senses groggy. With my hand, I reach the back of my head, touching the dried crust of blood in my hair. With a frustrated sigh, I flick the remnants away. I look around and see that I'm stuck in a cramped cage with wooden bars tied with ropes—no room to stretch here.

Where am I? How do I escape?

A low growl grabs my attention, and I glance around. On both sides of me, towering dogs rest in their cages. Their size alone intimidates me, their heads as big as my torso. One licks its paws while the other gnaws on bones of questionable origin. They seem friendly now, but I can't help but wonder how they'd react if I stepped out of my cage.

It's better to stay quiet.

I cover my eyes with my right hand and look ahead.

The Freaks couldn't care less about watching me. They lug car parts, metal plates, and wooden posts to fortify the walls against enemies.

I reach into my pockets, finding them empty.

If only I had paid more attention, we could've gotten away.

The dogs next to me pass out as the sun goes down and darkness takes over.

I ponder how to free myself from these ropes without Emily's knife.

My eyes land on my snoring neighbour, surrounded by discarded bones.

I creep towards the dog, getting a clearer look at the bones.

The dog chowed down on a rib bone and left its teeth marks.

Could I use this as a saw?

No Freaks in sight.

I slip my hand through the bars and try to nudge the bones closer.

The dog's ears perk up, and I freeze.

I give it a sec before I start over.

Gotcha!

The partially eaten rib bone resembles a saw.

I cut the ropes by sawing with the rib.

Sweat's dripping down my face.

It's doing its thing, and I'm almost there.

The rope tears. Yes! Blaze, I have to thank you.

I shove the bars to the side, slip the cutting bone into my pocket, and crawl out of the cage. I sneak behind a stack of crates and pallets, taking one last look at the sleeping dogs.

Where the heck am I? And where are they hiding Emily and the kids?

A Freak passes by. He carries a tray of stew-filled plates, and I tail him, maintaining a safe distance.

I'm sneaking around, hiding behind pallets, tyres, walls, and rundown buildings to avoid the Freak.

Eventually, I stumble upon this massive tent that looks like a pyramid. Its worn-out fabric is swaying in the wind.

The Freak goes in, and I hide behind some oil drums about five metres away.

I can't make out what they're saying from over here.

After a little while, the Freak emerges from the tent, still holding the tray.

Once again, I follow him.

I spot Emily and the kids in the distance, still trapped by the Freaks.

I let out a long breath.

The cannibal puts the plate of food in the cage and takes off.

I grab the opportunity and make my way to the cage, hiding behind a pile of steel plates.

I thought about grabbing a rock to go after the Freak or maybe using the bone as a weapon. Just thinking about stabbing makes me sick.

I'm not like that.

I peer over my makeshift cover as I hear Emily breaking the silence.

"Eat!" commands the Freak, his voice hoarse from coughing.

"We won't eat this garbage!" Emily yells.

Phew, she didn't break.

"Shut your trap!" the Freak fires back. "You'll get hungry someday. I'll be seeing this plate empty when the sun rises."

His coughing and his footsteps fade away in the distance.

I look around again.

It's clear.

I crouch down, saw the bars, and sneak into Emily's cage.

To my surprise, the same Freak passes by.

I swiftly crawl behind the sleeping kids and peek over their tiny bodies to catch a glimpse of the Freak.

As the cannibal uncovers the steel plates I was hiding behind, my blood surges through my veins and sweat forms on my forehead.

Thank God I'm in the cage.

"Jester! Are you coming? We don't want to be late!" calls out another Freak.

"I thought I heard something," Jester replies.

"Shut up and hurry!"

"All right, I'm coming."

As the Freak passes our cage again, he pays no attention to the prisoners.

He's gone.

I'm patiently waiting, killing time to know if I can talk.

How will we navigate this escape?

I crawl towards her, whispering her name.

"Hey, Emily."

She wakes up, stretching her body and opening her eyes. She breaks into a smile, her eyes widening in surprise when she sees me.

"Hero? What? How?"

"Shhh," I caution, placing a finger against her lips. And then, I whip out the bone I used to cut the ropes.

"With a bone?" she asks, frowning.

"Shhh, I'll explain later. We need to move."

"What is our plan for the children?"

"Yeah, what about them?" I say.

"We can't abandon them, can we?"

"Nah, definitely not," I say, even though I'm unsure.

I look at the kids.

"Where's the fat one?"

"He's not fat; he's just... well-fed. They took him," Emily corrects.

"Okay?"

"Never mind."

I shake my head. "Where did they take him?"

"I don't want to know."

We look at the untouched stew in front of us. It's a sad realisation.

I can't let myself get distracted; we'll mourn when the time's right.

"We need to leave," I say. "But what about-?"

"What's our plan? The children won't fit in your car, Emily interrupts.

"I was about to ask you the same thing."

With a furrowed brow, she lifts her gaze. "We'll need to find some transportation, but I don't know where to find any."

I let out a sigh. "Me neither."

"Oh, wait..." Emily's eyes widen. "First, we should awaken them and then escape this cage. When we find the exit, we might find cars nearby. Falcon may be there, too. We'll figure it out."

"Awesome idea," I say. "C'mon, let's go."

We're on the brink of an exciting adventure to escape our terrible lives and find Falcon.

With a gentle push, we wake the boys, their eyes widening with excitement and uncertainty. Emily and the three children fix their gaze upon me.

"Come, follow me," I whisper.

One by one, I cast aside the bars that once held us captive as Emily takes the lead, her fearless spirit illuminating our path.

The children follow in her wake, their steps quickening as they gain newfound courage.

I squeeze through the narrow opening and shake off the sand from my coat.

We creep through the winding streets, hyperaware of any potential threat, and reach a junction. Torches, stars, and the mesmerising moon illuminate our paths.

No Freaks around.

We take a left and walk through creepy aisles with torches and devices covered in blood where you can put humans.

We're getting closer to Falcon with every step; I can feel it.

In the distance, a massive tent appears—a sight that I recognise.

The idle talk has disappeared, replaced by a chaotic symphony. Bottles crashing, bodies fighting, gunfire, and loud metal music fill the air.

The realisation hits me like a thunderbolt. This is where they're all at. It reminds me of Blaze. This is an opportunity to hold them accountable for the pain they have caused. Blaze's goodbye and my promise to my parents come to mind.

No, I won't make the same mistake!

Hiding behind many old tyres, we stumble upon a quiet place to consider our next step.

I look around.

Where is Falcon? Did the Freaks strip him?

I'm not sure, but I hope he'll be waiting by the main gate with the other cars or waiting like Emily assumed they would.

We dash across a deserted road, hiding behind oil drums with Jerry Cans.

Curiosity tempts two of the children to steal a glance at the tent. "Look at that," one of them says.

I raise my hand, motioning for them to come closer.

"Hush," I whisper. "Stay here... If I'm not back in ten minutes, go with Emily. She'll guide you out of this chaos to safety."

The four of them nod, their expressions a blend of trust.

Emily pulls me aside, her grip firm yet tinged with doubt. "What are you doing? I know nothing about this place. You can't leave me... us again."

"Don't worry. I'll return before you know it," I assure her. "And by the way... You've proven yourself more than capable with these kids. I thought I had lost you."

"Hero, wait..."

"I bet you've got something cooking up in that brain of yours. I don't know you well, but one thing's for sure—you're resourceful," I cut in.

Emily smiles. "You better keep your promise."

I nod. "I'll be back soon."

Come on, Hero; you can do this.

With every step, I trace familiar corridors and winding paths that lead me back to the same cage that once held me captive.

I look around, hoping to see those two containers I saw before. There's a chance they have some useful things, like my beloved crossbow.

My navigation skills falter as doubt lingers with the next turn I take.

But then, I randomly find the containers.

Luck is finally on my side.

Their doors stand ajar. Behind the contours, you find humming generators fueled by diesel or petrol, their exhaust fumes permeating the air.

Making sure no one's watching, I sneak towards the left container. As I step inside, the creaking of metal resonates through the space.

There's this tall cupboard filled with all these badass weapons in front of me. They've got machetes, knives, swords, my crossbow, and lots of bows and accessories, all sorted and displayed.

My crossbow stands next to a bunch of arrows and wooden quivers, all good to be stowed away.

I'm so hyped up that I could jump for joy.

It's awesome!

I take hold of my bow, place the arrows neatly in a quiver, and set off.

My exploration takes me to a lower wooden cupboard decorated with tags and vulgar drawings. Beneath it lay two bags.

Rushing towards the cupboard, I seize the two large army bags and also find a plastic tool case. I fill the bags with cleavers and the tool case. No guns, they would make too much noise.

I sling my bow and quiver over my back, where they belong.

I attempt to lift the filled bag.

"Dang it, it's heavy," I mutter.

I grab the bag and take it outside, then go back in, get the empty one, and head to the next container.

As I step into the next container, my eyes widen at the sight of two refrigerated units before me.

As I push open the door, it lets out a deep groan, revealing a chilling scene that sends shivers down my spine.

Ribs, arms, hands, plastic-wrapped baby parts, and unrecognisable limbs line the shelves. The overpowering smell makes me feel sick, and I quickly run outside, vomiting on the ground.

I can't breathe, and try to get myself together.

Sick bastards!

I go back inside the fridge, checking the top left corner.

To my surprise, a row of stacked cans catches my attention.

The discovery of Coca-Cola, beans, and corn brings a wave of relief and excitement.

I grab a bunch of cans and stuff them in the other bag, filling them with these much-needed supplies.

Shit, I'm already struggling with this bag of weapons and gear. Carrying both bags is going to be a real challenge.

There's no other choice but to drag them along.

Once back outside, I arrange the bags next to each other and make a handle by looping the shoulder straps together.

I begin my journey, the bags kicking up dust as I navigate the sandy and rocky paths.

I've got goosebumps as I walk down this eerie corridor with metal cages on either side.

Each cage holds ten worn and battered men, all donning tattered clothing. This site is unfamiliar, leaving me questioning if I have lost my way.

Regardless, I need to sneak past them.

Relief washes over upon passing the first cage.

They haven't woken up.

Silently, I move past each following cell, my mind consumed by thoughts of Emily.

Is it possible that her parents were in these cages?

I drop the bags, and my body freezes.

From within his cage, a prisoner stares at me, his gaze intense. He has a thick long grey beard and an eye patch.

"Hello, boy," he whispers.

What does he want from me?

I can't talk right now. Instead, I nod to show him I'm on his side.

He salutes back, nudging the big guy beside him, who wakes up.

The prisoners wake up and spread the news of my arrival faster than I walk past their cages.

Salutes and nods.

I respond in the same way.

I didn't want all this attention; it just caused problems.

Still, I keep pushing forward, dragging the bags past the next cage and giving them a nod to remind them to be quiet.

After I've greeted the guys in the last cage, I take a moment, breathe in, and think about what to do next.

Should I let them go so they can help us all escape from this awful camp?

I head back to the dude with the beard.

"Sorry, gotta go," I mouth. "I'll be back."

The man shrugs in disbelief, and I return to the bags.

I'm struggling to move the heavy bags to the designated meeting spot.

Familiar surroundings come into view, and relief washes over me as I recognise where Emily and I parted ways.

The relief only sticks around for a little while. Ain't nobody there.

My heart skips a beat, scared they might have left when I wasn't there. But then, a whisper reaches my ears —"Pssst, Hero."

And there they are!

My buddies pop out from behind some wooden pallets, and their presence makes me almost cry tears of joy.

They join me.

"Sorry, we had to hide. Freaks were passing us by," Emily says.

"Where are they now?"

She shrugs.

I raise my hands to catch my breath and say, "Look at all these supplies. We should be good for a week."

Emily examines a bag and uncovers a sharp cleaver. "Nice," she compliments, testing its sharpness with her thumb. "This will come in handy."

As my heart rate lowers, I share what I saw on my journey. "I found these cages full of imprisoned guys. There must have been sixty or more. Hopefully, they know where the transports are. Falcon might be there, too."

Emily arches her eyebrow. "Do they want to fight?"

"I'm not sure," I admit. "Regardless, we should free them."

Emily nods. "Let's go then. We can sneak past the party in the big tent, free the men, gather more supplies, steal their vehicles and..."

"I have one condition," I interject. "I don't want to harm anyone."

"Remember when you kicked me on the chin?"

"You deserved that," I joke.

"That's fair," Emily says, grinning. "However, we can fight."

"I won't fight," I insist. "I made a promise to my parents before they died. Besides, taking on an army of Freaks is impossible. We must focus on freeing the prisoners and guiding them to safety."

Emily takes a deep breath. "Okay, we'll do it your way. But what if they want to fight?"

"I'll have to convince them not to."

"You better know what you're doing."

"I do," I bluff. "Let's go."

I grab a bag and take out a hammer from the tool kit. It could come in handy for unlocking the cages.

I discard unnecessary items, ensuring the bag remains light. I divide the food and drinks between the bags, handing one to Emily.

"Emily, you carry the other bag. Children, take these cleavers."

We leave our meeting place and navigate the corridors together.

Again, I struggle to remember the way, and we arrive at the area with the cages where they'd imprisoned me. Confusion strikes when I notice that the two cages beside mine are open.

"Hero, why are you stopping?" Emily asks.

"They imprisoned me in the middle cage. Two dogs should be next to mine."

"Did the Freaks notice and start searching for us?"

"I don't know."

"You'll have to explain your escape later," she suggests, patting my shoulder.

A growl.

And I turn around slowly.

Emily and the kids hide behind me.

I notice a large black Doberman blocking our path, sending chills down my spine.

"Hey!" I yell, attempting to ward off the aggressive dog. But it doesn't back down; it lunges towards us.

I react by swinging the hammer at the dog's mouth and sliding away, steering clear of its head. The hammer cuts through the inside of its cheek, trapping my hand. The dog falls to the ground in agony, blood gushing out.

I wince as a sharp pain shoots through my hand. I retract it from his mouth.

"What have I done?" I mutter.

"We have to hurry," Emily urges, her voice cutting through my thoughts.

I struggle to remove the hammer from the dog's mouth. I put my foot on its head, pull the hammer, and it comes loose.

Blood stains my coat. I get dizzy.

The children freeze in shock, one of them crying. Emily comforts them while I pull myself together.

She comes over to me.

"Are you all right?" Emily asks, placing her hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm fine. We need to keep moving."

We move ahead and find the male prisoners. Using the bloodstained hammer, I unlock their cages and notice a hopeful expression on their faces.

The party in the next-door tent is still going strong, blasting heavy metal. I'm releasing the guys in sync with the music's drumbeat, hitting the locks.

"Thanks, little boy," the bearded man says.

I shake my head, remembering where I heard that phrase.

Soon, we all gather in a dark alley, leaning against the shadow-covered walls. The children hand over their cleavers to the men, who flex their muscles and narrow their eyes.

"Now what?" the bearded man whispers.

"Do you know where the cars are?" I ask.

He furrows his brow. "Don't you want to clear this camp first?"

"No, our priority is to escape. We don't know how many Freaks are here. So intercepting the buses with women and children is crucial."

The bearded man nods. "All right. I wouldn't say I like this. But you'll find the cars and buses near the entrance, five blocks away. We'll take them and go for the women and children."

"And what about the children?" Emily questions, standing beside me.

The bearded man furrows his brow. "What about them?"

"We can't leave them here," Emily says.

"I'll take them with us and keep them safe," he promises. "Where will you two go?"

"We have to free Emily's parents," I respond. "Time is of the essence."

Emily looks at me, her eyes shining, and I nod in response.

"Do what you must," says the bearded man, "and we'll handle the rest."

Emily remains sceptical. "How can we trust you? Are you a Swifter, too?"

"I'm not," he clarifies. "But I'm your best chance. I've been here before. And..."

The music stops. A roar followed by an alarm fills the camp.

Oh no.

Battle cries, sounding like there's an entire army.

I realise we lack manpower.

The Freaks' screams grow louder, closing in.

A large wooden gate bristling with spikes blocks our escape.

We have to go through it—no other option.

Out of nowhere, I see many guys running after a Freak who's screaming.

"They're here!" he yells, surpassing the alarm's noise. The former prisoners catch up with him and restrain him. A ripped warrior tears some fabric, stuffs it in the cannibal's mouth, and then gives him a solid punch in the stomach.

The Freak's body convulses as he tries to scream. They've got four dudes holding him down while two others pound on him.

Out of nowhere, the guy with the beard comes up and chops off the cannibal's head with the cleaver we gave him.

His emotionless face reveals a cold-blooded warrior.

Doubt and regret hit me hard as I drop to my knees.

A hand touches my shoulder, reminding me to keep moving. It's the bearded man.

"You must hurry," he urges and walks away.

Did we have to kill him?

My promises.

Emily's hand replaces his.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

I stand back up. "No, I'm not. Did you see that? He killed him with no remorse."

"I know. Let's not dwell on it now. We'll talk later," Emily reassures me.

"Emily, I–"

"Later... Let's go."

Where was I? ... vehicles at the gate.

I scan the area.

Roofs of parked buses and cars reflect the starry sky.

Falcon, where are you?

I continue my search, darting between the parked buses and modified cars, my heart pounding with anticipation.

There, I spot him—Falcon, my loyal companion.

Happiness engulfs me as I rush to him, my fingertips brushing against his sleek frame. I whisper to Falcon that everything will be alright.

Out of nowhere, drums beat, and a fierce battle cry pierces the air.

I look at the source of the noise and notice their bald heads glinting in the light.

The number of them is overwhelming, like a horrifying tornado of bodies heading towards us.

The bearded man rallies his troops, commanding them to halt the advancing cannibals by forming a line.

"Kill them all! For the Free People!" he shouts. Around twenty fearless dudes storm into battle while the others go slashing the Freaks' tyres with the cleavers we gave them.

Turning to us, the bearded man speaks with urgency. "Go! We'll take care of the kids and lead them to safety."

I hesitate, clutching the bag of food. "Do you need this?"

"No, thank you. We'll manage," he replies. "I know of a place, Freedom Town, in the northeast. Whether your mission succeeds or fails, go there. The free people will aid you. I'll make sure they hear your story."

I nod and trust his words. The kids cry and run to their leader, then sprint to a yellow bus with huge monster truck wheels.

There are no goodbyes, only a pang of sadness in my heart.

"We'll see each other again, my brave little ones," I whisper, praying they can hear the hope in my voice.

Emily's tears sparkle, and I force myself to smile. "We'll see them again, I promise," I assure her, offering comfort. Honestly, I need the same reassurance.

"Yeah," she says, her smile fading with hidden concerns.

We hop into the Falcon. Just as we want to depart, the bearded man signals for us to wait and rushes towards us. He grabs my hand and gives it a good shake.

"Thank you," he says. "What's your name?"

"Hero. And it's my real name," I reply.

He chuckles. "No problem, Hero. The world will remember you, little boy. By the way, nice car."

Where have I heard this before?

As soon as I want to ask his name, there's gunfire and explosions. Some guys jump in their vehicles, while others stay put and defend against the Freaks.

"Fight!" the bearded man roars, facing his troops. "Protect the transports! Save the children!"

"Boss!" one warrior shouts as he runs towards him. "We can't hold the line much longer."

"Leave them for now. We'll save them later," he calls back. "Hero, go!"

Is he leaving them? Those warriors won't stand a chance. Should I say something?

Just as I'm about to talk, Emily brings me back.

"Hero!" she yells.

We look at each other, and I purse my lips and nod. I start up Falcon's systems and step on the gas.

Three warriors, putting all their strength into it, push open the gate. Their sweaty bodies shine as they slowly open the doors.

We're charging ahead and manoeuvring around cars that are out of commission. Men notice us coming and move aside. And then, BAM! Falcon busts through the wooden gates.

Emily

We're free and on the move.

I check on Hero.

No smiles... no tears. All he does is gaze at the road.

Sadness, disappointment, and a whirlwind of emotions seem to consume him.

I don't want to be a bother, but I really want to provide him some solace.

The images of the kids and victims we observed will stay with him, just like they stay with me. And if I'm being honest, my parents are a constant presence in my mind, even though they're far away or, perhaps, facing even worse circumstances.

As I watch, Hero's eyes stay locked on the outside world. I understand him, possibly more than he realises.

Besides... Hero is totally living up to his name.

Honestly, I'm super proud of him. I never thought he'd do something so heroic.

When we first met, I thought he was just a silly kid. Now... Now I'm not really sure what to think anymore.

Outside, as the morning sun embraces us, we remain silent. Hero checks out the surroundings with his binoculars.

Is this the right moment to talk?

I muster the courage to reach out to him.

"Hero?" I say, walking over.

"Yeah?" he responds, his voice distant, removing the binoculars from his eyes.

"Are you okay? I mean, after witnessing those... murders," I ask.

"I'm fine now," he assures me, his face telling a different story. It's devoid of joy, almost robotic.

"You mean a tad better," I reply.

His lips remain closed, and I can see he's hurting.

He breaks the silence with a question that catches me off guard.

"Emily, I wondered why you said you meant for someone else."

I struggle to recall the moment he refers to. "When did I say that?" I ask, racking my brain for answers.

"At the camp, you know... the Freak in our cage," he reminds me.

The memory floods back, and I attempt to explain. "I was bluffing... It wasn't anything significant. I'm surprised you didn't know why I said that. You understand why Freaks separate the livestock, right?"

"Yeah, I know... But I've never seen it up close before."

"Me neither."

"Disgusting, isn't it?"

I nod in agreement. "Yes, it is. We have different physical attributes and different forms altogether."

"Yeah, I guess we do."

Hero looks deep into my eyes and gives my face a thorough inspection, sending shivers down my spine.

Why's he looking at me like that?

I clear my throat, hoping to snap him out of it, but he doesn't blink. His eyes trace the curve of my jaw and the way my hair falls over my shoulders.

He's like... shifting around, trying to remember every little thing.

"What?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. My voice comes out steadier than I expected.

"Nothing," he replies, shaking his head slightly. "Just... your hair isn't that messy."

I blink. "Not that messy? Thanks, I guess."

He shrugs, eyes darting to my lips and then quickly away. "I mean, it's... fine. It's better than fine. It's... normal, you know."

I cross my arms, unsure of what to make of this. "Normal, huh?"

"Yeah," he says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "And your eyes—they're not that distracting."

"Not distracting?" I repeat. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

His cheeks turn a shade darker. "No, I mean... yes, but not like that. They're... ordinary."

"Ordinary. Right." I chuckle.

Hero looks away. "You know what I mean."

I shake my head, a small smile playing on my lips. "Not really, but sure."

For a moment, silence hangs between us.

He kicks at the dirt, and I run a hand through my hair, suddenly aware of how he's seen me.

"I just mean," he starts, eyes meeting mine again, "you're not... like everyone else. You're... you."

I narrow my eyes, scrutinising him. "And that's supposed to be a good thing?"

He nods, giving a little awkward smile. "Yeah. Definitely."

I study him, noting the sincerity in his eyes.

My mouth opens, but no words come out. I rapidly blink, attempting to gather my thoughts.

"What's wrong with you?" I finally ask, my voice sounding sharper than intended.

Hero's eyes widen in surprise, clearly taken aback. "Nothing's wrong with me. I'm serious."

He steps closer. "I like the way you are right now. I don't mind being around you anymore. And I trust you."

His words hit me like a blow to the stomach.

My muscles tense, and I straighten, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.

"You trust me?" The words feel unfamiliar as I speak them. "You really trust me?"

Hero nods, his expression earnest. "Yeah, I do."

I shift my weight from one foot to the other, my fingers digging into my arms. "Why would you trust me? We've known each other for what?"

He shrugs, his eyes never leaving mine. "Time doesn't matter. You've proven yourself. I know you will not betray me again."

I bite my lip, glancing away. The intensity of his words makes my skin itch. "You shouldn't be so quick to trust."

"Why not?" he asks, his tone gentle but firm.

I gulp, my throat as dry as a desert. "It's not that simple. Trusting people, getting close—it's dangerous. You could get hurt."

Hero steps even closer. "I know, and I'm not afraid of getting hurt. Not by you."

My heart pounds in my chest. I turn away, needing a moment to breathe. What he says really gets to me, messing with my head. I glance back at him, trying to force a smile. "You're a weirdo, Hero."

He grins. "Takes one to know one."

I laugh, though it comes out shaky. "Maybe. But watch out. I can be a handful sometimes."

Hero tilts his head, studying me. "I don't mind."

His words feel like a ton of bricks, so heavy and relentless. I push back, trying to take charge again. "Well, then you're crazier than I thought," I say, forcing a playful tone. "You sure you haven't hit your head or something?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Pretty sure."

I take a step back, needing some distance. "You're impossible," I say, rolling my eyes. "But thanks, I guess."

Hero's smile fades a bit, but he nods. "Anytime."

I turn on my heel, walking away. My hands shake as I move out of his sight. I find a quiet spot behind Falcon, and lean against it, closing my eyes. The world spins, and I press my palms to my temples.

His words echo in my mind.

I stay here, getting myself together before I can see him again.

As the sun shines on the dunes and hills, they sparkle and shimmer, mesmerising anyone who gazes upon them.

Hero, what are you doing to me?

We've been driving for hours and haven't seen a single Freak on this road.

"Hey Emily, is this still the way to...?"

"I'm not sure. If we keep going this way, we'll get there. Take a left," I instruct, hoping it's the right path.

He veers left, and the old white lines disappear under Falcon's banged-up nose. Looking at the dents from that gate we crashed into, I'm grateful our car still works.

Dude, I'll forget about your pain for now. We'll catch up later, and we'll get through this.

Let's stick together, no matter what comes our way.