Hero

I pull over to check if it's safe to continue our journey. I go to Falcon's trunk to grab some water.

To my surprise, the Freaks left my belongings. They didn't consider them edible or valuable. Even my eggs remained unharmed.

"And?" Emily calls out from her seat, her door open.

"I found it. They left most of my stuff, including your filtered pee. I suppose the water didn't meet their taste or utility standards," I say, looking her way.

She shrugs and grins.

"They made a mess," I add.

"You should clean it."

"I know."

I walk over to her, leaning against Falcon's passenger door.

"Hey, they also left your bag between the front and backseat," I say.

"When we're finished, remind me to take it with me," Emily replies.

Can't she do that herself?

Suddenly, memories of the camp race before my eyes.

All those losses.

Questions arise. We didn't have a choice, did we?

"We came close," she remarks. "Do you think we made the right choice?"

As if she read my mind.

"I don't know. Did we have any other options?" I question.

"No, we didn't," she says. "Even though we saved many people, it still feels like a failure, don't you think?"

"I know what you mean," I acknowledge.

These memories weigh heavy on my mind. I wish I could erase them all—the dog I had to kill, the bearded man with his men, the decapitated Freak, and even the unfortunate incident with the chubby kid. I also ponder whether we can rescue Emily's parents as we did with those men.

Will it be possible?

"The children will be fine," I assure her, trying to comfort both of us.

She nods, but her wavering smile reveals her inner doubts.

It's hard to believe my own words.

I return to Falcon's trunk and sip filtered pee to calm my nerves.

As I walk through the sand, my head is dizzy. The images of the camp flash through my mind like photographs.

I tried to suppress them, but all is coming back.

"Hero?" Emily interrupts, causing the camp memories to fade. "Are you okay?"

"I... I don't know."

Each step I take becomes heavier, increasing the pressure on my chest. I turn around and return to the driver's seat, relying on Falcon for support.

I sit down, exhaling the used oxygen through my nostrils.

My stomach churns, and everything around me fades.

"Hero?"

____

Emily

I gently tap his cheeks, hoping he'll wake up.

This is not happening!

"Hero, please wake up!" I plead, my voice trembling. Tears stream down my face, and my breaths come out in uneven gasps.

I check his neck for a pulse with two fingers.

Nothing!

I jump out of Falcon and run to the trunk. As I make my way to the back of the car, the soft sand makes me lose my balance, and I end up falling on my side. I shake off the fall, refusing to accept that Hero could be gone.

I must wake him up! Hero, I need you!

Hero left the trunk open, and I'm eyeing a water bottle. I snatch it and hurry back to him, dumping the water on his face, praying for any kind of response.

Still, nothing's happening. I'm panicking as I desperately look for something helpful. The only things I find are his messed up compass, the iPad, and some empty cans. I let out a deep groan of frustration.

With great effort, I drag Hero out of the car, and we collapse onto the soft sand.

He lies on his back, and I crawl on top of him, putting my ear close to his mouth.

I can't tell if he's actually breathing or if it's just the wind messing around.

The immense expanse of the blue sky above draws my eyes.

I can't be alone. Hero is a kind-hearted person; he doesn't deserve this. We need people like him in the world, and I need him too.

"Uh, Emily?" Hero interrupts, giving me the chills.

I get off him.

His eyes question me. "Wh... What happened? Why are you crying?"

I don't get it, but I end up getting pissed at him instead of worried.

With my foot pressed against his chest, I stand up.

"Just stay there," I blurt.

I withdraw to Falcon and settle into my chair.

____

Hero

Emily, like always, says nothing. But I can't ignore this... thing ... between us.

"I was away for a bit. Did you want to wake me up?" I ask.

Emily remains unresponsive.

A simple expression of gratitude may ease the tension.

"Emily, thank you. I appreciate everything you've done," I say.

Emily's lips tighten, and she responds robotically, "No problem. You would have done the same."

"Yeah, I would," I reply.

"What happened, though?"

"I... I don't know. It's something I've never experienced before. Maybe I'm just exhausted of all this survival stuff."

"Aren't we all?"

"I guess you're right."

Silence for a few seconds.

"I really thought I lost you again," Emily says.

"I-"

"Don't," she cuts me off.

Shall I ask her now about what's happening between us? No, there's too much tension between us at the moment.

This is so awkward.

After some time, we pass a sign that reads 'Old York 150 miles.' The worn lines on the road show a fork ahead.

"It's time to change our path," Emily says, pointing to the sign for the 440.

As I steer the car onto the exit, the tyres screech on the asphalt. She knows the way well.

"Where are you from?"

I'm asking the wrong question. It should be about the emotional stuff.

"Virginia was the state I used to pass through while travelling along the borders of the 51st State. I'm from the South," Emily replies.

"Seriously?"

She nods.

"I've wandered through those areas too," I share.

"Really?" Emily's eyes widen.

"Yeah, I even helped the Swifters in those parts, assisting them in acquiring supplies."

"It's strange that we've never crossed paths before. I'm part of the Swifter 08 group," Emily says.

"08?" I ask.

"Yes. Each Swifter colony has a unique number. We split into smaller groups to avoid being hunted down together," Emily explains. "We have a main truck and a radio to communicate with one another. It's how we share news and vital information."

"That's handy. No one told me. I've never seen a truck with a radio, and no number for our caravan either. Perhaps I was part of a separate Swifter colony."

"Perhaps you've only observed those vehicles from afar, never experiencing them firsthand. Outside, trucks all look the same, you know?" She says.

"You're right," I say. "But I have a question... How did you manage all of this?"

"I've been tracking the cannibals for a while. They're heading towards the 51st State, just like us. I think Old York is their final destination," Emily replies. "The cannibals haven't killed my parents yet because they weren't fat enough."

"Then there's still hope."

"I guess there is."

"How much time do they have left?" I ask.

"My parents are quite thin, so it takes time for them to fatten up. I just hope they haven't taken my father away for slavery," Emily admits.

I whisper, "Let's hope not."

In this desolate and hopeless wasteland, Emily's unwavering belief in her parents touches something deep inside me. I take a deep breath.

"Okay, Emily... I mean it. I'll help you find your parents, and I'll save them. Consider it official now," I say, softly smiling.

Emily smiles. "Thank you. I knew you would."

"Thanks, I guess."

"No problem," Emily winks, then sticks her tongue out at the same time.

I smile back.

She's cool.

"And... By the way."

"What?"

The corners of Emily's mouth lift upwards."You know what's funny?"

I shake my head.

"I stole a truck."

"Wow! From whom?" I ask.

"From some Freaks who were taking a break... just like you did," she reveals.

"How did you do it?"

"After my car ran out of gas, I had to continue on foot. All I had was a backpack and a bag of water. By following their tracks, I found them."

I lean in closer. "What happened next?"

"Well... Those freaks were in no hurry. During the chase, I spotted smoke and passed their burned-out campfires. I can only imagine what they were eating during their journey."

"Nasty," I say. "How many days were you on foot?"

"I walked for two days and had water for a week," Emily replies.

"What happened when you found them?"

"At night, I discovered all seven of them fast asleep. There wasn't a Swifter in sight," she reveals.

My heart feels heavy with sadness as I come to understand it. "Then I know where Swifters went."

Emily nods, her lips pressed together. "It seems like those Freaks have already devoured their livestock. But stealing their truck while they were asleep was easy."

"Wow, you're tough!"

A proud grin appears on Emily's face. "Yeah, I know."

"Did you kill them?"

She shakes her head. "No, of course not. I watched them grow smaller and smaller in my side mirrors."

I'm wondering if it's still counted as killing them. They wouldn't last in the desert, no chance. "What happened after that?"

"I followed a dust cloud, only to discover it was an electric car. You were driving so fast that I could barely keep up," Emily recounts.

I chuckle. "Yeah, that's me, speeding around like crazy."

"I had to push the engine to its limit just to keep up, which caused it to overheat," she explains. "That's when I followed your tyre tracks on foot, and there you were, sleeping under Falcon's wing."

I lean forward in disbelief, resting my arms on the steering wheel.

"Yeah, that was a pretty dumb and risky move on my part. I forgot to charge the car's batteries," I admit. "So, I had to stop."

"Not the smartest move indeed."

"Well, I forget to charge the car. Just lucky timing, I guess."

We chuckle, reliving our first meeting.

"I'll never forgive that kick of yours. You hit my head so hard." Emily rubs her chin.

"And the kick from you? I almost vomited my balls out."

Emily winces, twisting her lips. "Ouch."

"Yeah, couldn't imagine how much it hurts."

She arches an eyebrow, folding her arms. "What are you saying? That I have no balls?"

"No, you have... I mean... That you... You... You have courage."

A sly smile appears on her face. "Oh, I know. I'm badass. No, I was joking about the balls thing."

"I know," I say, trying to play it cool with a wink.

When our eyes meet, Emily turns red. I can also feel my cheeks turning red like tomatoes.

Did she blush because of my wink? She's adorable, and I like her more every day. Should I ask if she's taken? Is it too upfront?

Why would I even care? Again, she'll be gone soon.

In that case... I've got nothin' to lose.

My knee bounces, and sweat's forming on my forehead.

Even though I've never seen a real pig, I remember the saying about sweating like a pig. That's what I'm doing now.

"By the way, do you have... you know," I stumble over my words, trying to find the right way to ask.

Emily raises an eyebrow. "Know what?"

"You know... a boy... like, as a friend," I say.

"What? Huh, no, and I never had. There weren't many nice guys in Swifters 08," she says.

My body relaxes, and my heart rate slows down.

"What about you?" she asks, returning the question to me.

I mumble my reply. "No, you're the first."

Emily frowns.

What did I say wrong?

"No, sorry... I mean-" I apologise, but she cuts me off.

"Don't you worry. I know. I'm the first girl your age you've ever met," she corrects me.

The second.

What happened, though? Elara seems to be gone from my mind. Does this mean that I'm over her? But how?

"How old are you, anyway?"

I shrug. "17, 18 or maybe even 19... I've lost count. Birthdays were never a thing for us. My parents never celebrated them. There didn't seem to be anything worth celebrating in this world. My dad always said to earn stuff."

"And you?"

"I'm 19," she reveals with a smile.

Ah, slightly older than me. But it doesn't matter... we're still close in age. Close in age for what? It's unlikely that she will become my girlfriend, isn't it?

"You know, I just realised something," Emily interjects my thoughts, releasing a contented sigh.

I rack my brain, trying to recall what she might have forgotten.

"Like what?"

"Thank you, Hero," she says, her gratitude overflowing. "Thank you for not leaving me behind and for saving all those people."

I hesitate for a moment, touched by her words.

"Uh... no problem. And thank you, too."

Surprised, she raises an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For believing in me and trusting me," I reply.

Emily chuckles. "I guess I did."

KadumKadumKadum.

The car sways and jolts, making it difficult for me to control. One of Falcon's tyres flaps against the asphalt, and panic floods my mind.

No, this can't be happening!

The brakes screech, and I pull the car over to the side of the road. Emily leans on her hand, her gaze fixed on the sky via Falcon's front window.

Emily sniffs and lets out a sigh before slumping into her seat.

"I'll look," I offer, stepping out of the car to inspect the tyres.

It's the front left tyre that's causing the trouble.

A thud echoes from a nearby door, and the sand behind me cracks. Seconds later, Emily stands beside me, comforting and unsettling.

"Well, I guess we better pray for a miracle," she mutters.

"Pfff... Like that would make any difference," I mutter under my breath. "God left this earth a long time ago."

"What did you just say?" Emily's eyes are narrow as she confronts me.

"Nothing," I blurt.

She must be religious or something. So pointless.

Then again... Who am I to judge? After all, I believe in jungles I've never seen and have prayed in desperate times.

Guess I believe in something.

"Anyway... There's something on my mind."

"Like what?" I ask.

"I just don't get it. Falcon is supposed to be your best friend... You could take better care of him. I mean, just look at his trunk." She chuckles.

"Yeah, I know. I've meant to clean and order it, but things keep coming up, and I keep forgetting."

"I see. Let's fix him up. Do you have a spare wheel or tyre?"

OMG, I gave that one away. I forgot that, too.

"No, I haven't... I gave it away," I admit.

"You what... you give it away? That's so dumb!"

While she makes a valid argument, I still need to clarify the situation.

"We were stuck in the soft sand, and the other person had a flat tyre. So, in exchange for the spare wheel, they helped me get out."

"You could have just shot them with your crossbow, taken their car, and kept your spare wheel," Emily says with a hint of sarcasm.

She exhales through closed lips.

"Easy for you to say. You'd kill people for supplies, wouldn't you?" I ask.

"When I have to," she challenges me.

"So, you've killed people before?" I ask, hoping she never did.

"No, I would if it meant protecting myself or someone I love."

"You didn't kill me. Why not?" I ask.

"I would've... and I will if you don't stop talking," she responds. "You know I need you... You know, for your car," she stumbles.

"That's fair."

"Giving your spare wheel away was dumb, though." She pauses for a moment. "Nah, just kidding. You did the right thing. It was my mistake. I didn't know they helped you, too. You didn't have a choice. And, well, I couldn't have killed you or let you die either," Emily sighs, releasing the tension in the air. "I think you're kind of cute. But don't get your hopes up."

She winks at me, and a strange warmth fills my stomach.

Could she like me? I'm eighty percent sure... I should ask her and not be a coward.

"You know... I think you might like me," I mumble, mustering the courage.

Am I doing this? Yes, I am.

"What did you say?" Emily's voice sharpens.

"You heard me," I reply, trying to sound confident.

"Yeah, I do... li..." She moves her head from side to side. "No, I mean... I didn't think you would say something so stupid."

My heart pounds in my ears, and I struggle to comprehend her words.

"Stupid?" I ask.

"No, not stupid... I mean... Never mind."

"No tell me."

"You're cute, but liking you is impossible... And even if I did, I wouldn't get into a relationship," she continues.

"Why? Are you afraid?" I ask.

"Afraid of losing people I love? Yeah, of course. You lost your parents, didn't you? You know how it feels," she replies, her vulnerability echoing through her words.

"Yeah, I know. But we can protect each other, right?" I propose.

Why am I saying all this? Why am I trying to convince Emily of something I'm not sure I believe in myself?

"Protect each other?

"Like when you hid in a wall to protect your parents," she blurts out, and grins.

My heart sinks; the pain of her words struck deep.

"What did you say?"

"What?" She shrugs.

"Take that back!" I snap, unable to contain my anger.

"Take back what?"

"What you've just said," I demand, my voice shaking.

"No, I won't," she retorts.

"Then fudge you!" I shout, my frustration boiling over.

"You know it's said differently," Emily sneers.

"Just shut up!".

"You shut up!" she fires back, pressing the button to unfold Falcon's wings. She then steps out. "And don't forget to charge them this time!"

Even though I'm mad, I can't help but wonder if Emily was right.

Could I have protected my parents?

No, of course not! Forget that girl!

____

Emily

What got him all worked up?

I was just messing around. Looks like I might have really upset him.

If he made jokes like that, would I be as mad as him?

Probably.

Should I apologise? No matter what, he'd eventually calm down.

Nah, I'll let him be.

____

Hero

The sun beats down on my cheekbones, its intensity at its peak. I walk alongside Falcon, examining his worn bodywork, tracing my fingers over the dents and bullet holes.

Someday, I'll fix you up, Falcon.

Underneath Falcon's wing, Emily lies motionless, her eyes closed. Curiosity tugs at me, and I approach her.

"What are you doing?" I say, kicking a stone that asks for it.

She props herself up on her elbows, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand to create shadows.

"Guess," she replies.

"Um, I don't know," I admit, scratching my head.

"Think."

"You're not doing anything," I say.

"You got it right," she affirms.

And just like that, she lies back down, her body stiff like a wooden plank, and closes her eyes once more.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier," Emily mumbles.

"Uh, okay?"

I do not know how to respond, and I don't want things to stay awkward between us.

Then I remember how my mom would calm my dad by cooking something tasty. Although I have zero cooking skills compared to my mother, I haven't forgotten my promise to make Emily some eggs.

I open the trunk and retrieve four eggs and two dusty steel plates. After cracking the eggs onto one plate, I let the yolk flow onto the horizontal part of Falcon's sun-kissed hood.

Minutes later, the delightful aroma of fried eggs wafts through the air, making my mouth water in anticipation.

Oh no, I forgot the spatula.

I search through Falcon's trunk, hoping to find one, but all I see is a stucco knife.

Well, that'll have to do.

With the makeshift tool, I scrape the eggs and flip them over.

After some time, I remove them from the hood and slide them onto the plates. As I walk back, I can't stop thinking about whether Emily will enjoy my humble cooking.

She's still lying beneath Falcon's protective wing, eyes shut.

"Hey, I've got something for you," I announce, tapping her foot with mine.

She sits up, accepting the plate I offer, and leans against Falcon's sturdy frame.

"What is it?" she asks, intrigued.

"Crow eggs, just like I promised," I reply.

Emily nods, snags the plate, and devours the eggs. She takes a big bite, and a visual sense of relaxation washes over her tense body.

It worked. She's cooling off a bit.

Her cheeks bulge as she chews, and she takes another bite before swallowing.

I take a bite of my egg, staring at the never-ending road.

"So, how is it?" I inquired, eager to hear her verdict.

Emily gives me a thumbs up, her mouth too full to speak.

I perch myself on Falcon's left wing, and Emily settles beside me on the lower left side, savouring her eggs. There's no trace of anger on our faces, just the two of us enjoying the quiet companionship.

The earlier arguments and irritations have faded, replaced by a comforting silence.

We take another bite.

Silhouettes of vehicles appear on the horizon and the roar of old diesel approaches.

What now?

With the taste of the unfinished egg lingering in my mouth, I scramble to my feet and dash toward Falcon's trunk. Plates clatter, and food spills onto the rocky ground as I go.

Pressing the Tesla logo with my thumb, the tailgate swings open.

However, I can't find my bow.

Panic courses through me as Emily joins the search, looking in the trunk and the rest of my car.

Despite our efforts, we find nothing as we move aside cans, food, and a stolen bag.

Where could it be?

"This is hopeless... What a mess."

Emily backs off, breathes out, and checks out the cars coming our way.

Then relief floods over me as I spot it. "Ah, found it!" I exclaim.

Emily races back to me, slapping my shoulder with excitement.

"Hero, come on!" she exclaims, her face beaming.

Dang it, my arrows are missing.

I ask, "What is it?"

"Look, Hero, look!" Emily points ahead.

"Hold on a second." I find the quiver with my arrows and strap it onto my back. "Emily, I found—" My words trail off as I notice her exuberant waving and jumping.

This looks like the caravan I was in.

Swifters?

"Are we safe?" I ask, hoping for some good news.

"One hundred percent," she replies, her happiness contagious.

Wow, I've never seen her this happy before.

As I relax and toss my bow into the trunk, I realise the mess in the back needs immediate attention.

"It's a Swifter colony!" Emily bounces on her toes with excitement. "Yeah!"

"Are you sure?" I ask.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Silver-coloured vehicles and tags! I'm a hundred percent sure."

The vehicles reach us.

Four steel campers and smaller armoured passenger cars stop in front of us. Their chassis bears bullet holes and rusty patches.

I can't stop wondering about their durability.

Emily shakes hands with the driver at the head of the convoy. While they converse, I struggle to catch their words. The man directs his finger towards me, and Emily acknowledges with a nod and smile.

Then she rushes back to me. "It's all going to be okay. Do you know what they know?" she asks, smiling from eye to eye.

"No idea," I admit, unsure of what to expect.

"They know where the Swifters 08 are, and they're going to drop us off there," she shares.

"Oh, that's great," I respond, unsure if I like the idea.

The more people involved, the greater the potential dangers.

"What's wrong?" Emily senses my hesitation.

"It's nothing," I brush aside my negative thoughts. "What were you two doing just now?"

"What do you mean?"

"The handshake. It seems you know those folks pretty well."

"The Swifters salute. Here, give me your hand," she requests, reaching out to me.

I place my hand in hers, and she shows me a handshake. "First, we hook each other's index and middle fingers and let them slide over each other, then give a fist bump." We perform the handshake together. "Then we show our hands and hold our middle three fingers together. Spread the other two like this and hold it before our heads."

Emily holds her hand in front of her forehead, forming an aeroplane-like shape. She chuckles, saying," This is the Swifters salute."

"That's quite a greeting," I remark.

Emily chuckles. "The first part is our friendly greeting, and the second is the formal one when talking to elders. When meeting for the first time or when you're in a hurry, the salute will do."

"At my old convoy, we never greeted each other like that."

"I now really know you were in an independent Swifter colony."

"I guess I was," I say, understanding her logic. "Something else... Do they have a tyre or wheel for my car?"

"You can ask them yourself," Emily suggests.

I hesitate, reluctant to leave Falcon behind. "No, you know the Swifters better than I do. Would you mind asking?"

"Okay... No problem."

Emily takes the lead and walks toward the largest motorhome, conversing with its chauffeur.

This should be great, yet a sudden heaviness settles upon me. If Emily goes with them, she might have a better chance of finding her parents.

Could these be our last moments together?

Emily continues her conversation with the driver. I wonder what they're saying; their friendly gestures and smiles show a familiarity that puzzles me.

She returns to me, panting. "They want to hang your car on one of their campers and drive to Freedom Town. They don't have the right tyres for you here, but they might have some there," she explains, trying to catch her breath.

"Freedom Town? The bearded man with the patch mentioned it."

"Come on," Emily encourages me.

I pause, grappling with the unknowns ahead. At that moment, Emily seizes my hand and forcefully propels me toward the driver. The moment our hands touch and intertwine, an electrifying sensation courses through me as if she has transmitted a jolt of lightning through our connection.

The sun casts a brilliant glow on the sleek, armoured camper before us. They emblazoned its silver plates with vibrant red letters spelling "Swifters 09." Even the number plates boast the same Swifter emblem.

I would've noticed the big letters on a vehicle, so Emily's right that I lived in an independent Swifters colony.

As we approach, I notice the driver—a thin man in his mid-40s with dark skin and a yellow turban adorning his head. His cool, black curled moustache adds character to his rugged face.

"Vikash, Swifters 09. Nice to meet you," the driver greets, his deep voice catching me off guard. I expected a higher pitch from someone so slender.

"Hero," I respond, offering him the customary Swifters salute.

"Hero, as in... a real one?" he chuckles.

"Just Hero is fine," I say, annoyed.

Emily beams beside me, as I expected.

"Where were you heading?" I ask.

"Freedom Town... Some time ago, Flash and his men liberated Slave Town 12 from the USR and the Freaks," Vikash explains.

"Flash?" I inquire.

"Ah, don't you know him?" Vikash raises an eyebrow.

"Nope, do you?" I ask, nudging Emily's shoulder.

She shakes her head. "08 had a radio, but I never heard of Freedom Town or Flash. Must've missed the message."

"That explains it," Vikash muses, gazing skyward, lost in thought.

"I know Slave Town 12," Emily interjects. "It was a wretched place, a transit station where they gathered the innocent, exploiting them for their gain. We also escaped a similar camp like that."

"Wow, that's impressive!" Vikash exclaims. "Flash renamed Slave Town 12 to Freedom Town. He's been rallying the people, but we haven't heard from him in weeks."

Why does this sound so familiar?

"Do you know where I can find the 08 when we arrive?" Emily interjects.

Vikash grins, his teeth resembling a zebra crossing. "I think most folks in the city do."

While they continue to talk, my mind wanders elsewhere.

A peculiar mixture of happiness and discomfort swirls within me as Emily still holds my hand.

Is she aware of our connection?

"Is there something going on between you two?" catches my ears, snapping me out of my thoughts.

Emily releases my hand.

"We're... uh... just friends," Emily blurts out, causing a surge of cold unease. We stand in the blazing sun, yet I shiver.

Vikash's grin grows even bigger.

What was that guy thinking?

Our chauffeur steps out, opening the door of his motorhome for us. Before climbing in, I steal a last glance at Falcon.

"You have a beautiful car," Vikash compliments.

"Yeah, I know."

"They're a rare sight nowadays. How'd you get it?"

"That's a long story," I reply, exhaling.

"No problem. We have plenty of time on our journey," Vikash assures me. "You can tell me later."

Climbing into the cockpit of his motorhome, I enter through the wheel arch. Vikash joins me from the other side.

"Hero, help me up," Emily requests.

I grasp her hand, aiding her ascent. She settles beside me. I watch the truck behind us carrying Falcon on its crane from the side mirror. A surge of worry threatens to consume me.

"Everything will be fine," she says before closing her door.

Stay strong, buddy. We'll be back on the road before you know it.

Followed by three other vehicles and Falcon's truck, we set off toward our next destination—Freedom Town. Leaving the main road, we venture into the vast wastelands.

"A shortcut, I presume?" I inquire.

"Yup, it's safer," Vikash replies, focusing on the rugged terrain. As the motorhome bounces over the uneven, sandy ground, we sway back and forth, up and down.

Inside the cosy cockpit, Emily and I sit shoulder to shoulder on a soft, green sofa, its surface coated in dust. Our contact feels comfortable, and I long for our eyes to meet. Despite that, Emily remains engrossed in her conversation with Vikash.

I look around and notice the brown trim of the metal interior adorned with bead chains. Pictures of joyous people against sandy landscapes hang alongside these decorations. A diamond-cross necklace dangles from the rear-view mirror, swaying with the vehicle's movement, lulling me almost to sleep.

"Can I meet Flash in Freedom Town?" I say, eager to keep my mind awake.

"Little chance," Vikash scoffs.

"Why is that?" I press.

"Flash and his warriors move on to the next problem after liberating camps and cities. He's a real hero, you know?" Vikash explains.

I lean back and sigh.

It would be awesome to meet Flash.

However, he wouldn't be my top priority. Eden is still my priority after I dropped Emily off.

Finding paradise on my own also makes me doubt... I seem selfish by keeping all this to myself.

Is finding Eden still worth it? Should I stay with the Swifters and dedicate myself to helping others?

It's far more rewarding than pursuing my paradise for now. Yet, the weight of sacrifice lingers—the lives lost. It's a burden I can't ignore.

Everywhere I go, people die.

This is so hard. I never wanted to make these choices.

Mom and Dad, I wish you were here to guide me.

My gaze alternates between Emily and Vikash as they converse, their words lost to my ears. Lost in my thoughts, I find solace in their camaraderie.

But why is Vikash helping us to expect nothing in return?

Why am I doing this? Am I doing it for Emily? Am I putting her needs before mine?

I believe I am, and it doesn't make me feel guilty. This care for others, this deep connection, it's both beautiful and terrifying. Just like Emily said, they can snatch away everything in an instant.

Once Falcon gets repaired, I might lose this budding friendship with Emily and end up alone again. Yet Eden...

ARGH!

I draw deep breaths, fill my lungs with oxygen, and exhale.

Falcon remains inoperative, and Eden lies far on the horizon. So, it's all right. Like my parents did for me, I can do the same for others.

"So, my friend, tell me about your journey," Vikash prompts, snapping me back to reality.

Yeah, I'll tell you.

I take a moment to gather my thoughts.

"Well, it all started with a dream," I begin, my voice steady. "A dream of finding Eden, a place of peace and hope in this chaotic world. I wanted to believe that such a place exists, that there's something more out there beyond the struggles we face every day."

Vikash nods, his eyes reflecting understanding. "I can relate to that, my friend. Many of us embark on the journey of searching for something better beyond the hardships we endure."

I continue, the words flowing more easily now. "I guess most of us do. But along the way, I realise maybe Eden isn't just a physical place. It could be a mindset or a lifestyle. That by helping others and making a difference in their lives, we can create our version of Eden."

Emily looks at me, her eyes filled with warmth and support. She knows the struggles I'm going through, and her presence alone gives me strength.

"I've seen the power of unity and compassion," I continue. "My parents, the Swifters, and all those who fight for freedom and justice—they give me strength."

Vikash listens, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "You speak wise words, my friend. It takes courage to recognise that our dreams may evolve during our hardships. Who knows what the future brings?"

"Yeah... I may not know what lies ahead or where this road will lead me," I conclude. "For now, I embrace the journey and support those around me."

Vikash smiles, a knowing gleam in his eyes. "You have a noble heart, my friend."

The motorhome continues its bumpy ride across the rugged terrain.

Although the choices I have to make may be difficult, I know that as long as I stay true to my values and strive to make a positive impact, I'm on the right path.

"Tell me more about your journey."

Emily turns to me, her eyes pleading for me to share my story.

Yeah... I'll tell you.