Unspoken truths [ii]

Chapter 5(ii) – Unspoken Truths [ii]

POV: Scarlett

The word hung in the air like a storm waiting to break: war.

Who else had noticed? The way the soldiers looked at each other, the tightness around their eyes. The way the crowd shifted, a nervous energy spreading like wildfire. Everyone heard it. No one wanted to say it.

Where were they taking us next? Sector One sounded safe—safer, at least. But safe wasn't a promise; it was a question. What awaited us there? What did "rebuilding" even mean when the world was already breaking apart?

The Lieutenant had promised food, shelter, security. Promised a chance to fight back. But what was the price? Volunteers for defense and scouting. Volunteers for war.

I glanced at the others—Luke, Jane, Blair—faces unreadable, but eyes sharp. The risks were clear. We weren't just survivors anymore. We were soldiers in waiting.

I remembered how we noticed the silence around us. No pets. No animals. No birds. Just quiet. The world was holding its breath.

That quiet? It wouldn't last. Not with this new threat. The things coming would be fast. Different. Unusual.

Before the briefing, they asked us to pick weapons. No fights, they said. But if it happened—death by any means necessary.

I gripped the cold handle of the rifle, trying to steady my shaking hands.

The calm was gone.

POV: Grey

The rifle was heavier than I remembered, cold metal pressed against my palms. I'd held guns before. Practiced. But not like this—not with everything crumbling outside the walls.

After Eva's accident, everything changed. Dad suddenly started teaching me things. Real things. How to aim, how to hold steady, how to breathe slow and quiet when it mattered most.

Sometimes Luke came with me. We'd stand in the backyard, Dad pacing behind us, scribbling notes, muttering about angles and trajectories.

Some days Dad disappeared into his lab for hours, scrambling on strange equipment, eyes burning with a fire I couldn't quite understand.

I remember waking up once in my room, confused. Dad said I'd passed out when I saw the needle, but I'm not sure that's true. Maybe I just wanted to forget.

The past flickered like a shadow as I hefted the rifle, felt its weight settle. It wasn't just a tool—it was a promise. A weapon. A shield.

Around me, others reached for weapons too—some with steady hands, others trembling. Blair clutched a battered pistol like it was a lifeline. Jonah examined the sights on a shotgun, nostrils flaring. Jane hesitated, fingers brushing over the stock of a rifle, eyes wide but resolute. luke picked a rifle too, the distant look on his face made me wonder if he remembers too

The air was thick with quiet dread, the kind that tightens your throat and makes your skin crawl. We weren't just survivors anymore—we were a militia in waiting.

The Lieutenant's words echoed in my mind: "Volunteers for defense. For scouting. For rebuilding. For war."

I glanced sideways at Scarlett. Her jaw was clenched, eyes sharp, but there was something behind them—a flicker of fear she refused to show.

We stood together, weapons ready, waiting for what came next. The fence beyond the camp rustled faintly, as if the world itself was holding its breath.