Foundations of Survival

The sun had barely risen when Tessa arrived at the cabin, her car pulling up silently on the dirt road. Rath watched her from the window, his heart pounding in his chest. As she stepped out of the car, he was relieved to see she had made it safely. She carried a few bags, and as she approached, Rath could see the worry etched on her face.

He opened the door before she could knock, and they stood there for a moment, just looking at each other. Tessa's eyes, usually so full of life, were shadowed with concern.

"Rath," she said softly, "I came as soon as I could. What's going on?"

He took the bags from her hands without a word and placed them inside. "Thanks for coming," he said, his voice flat, almost mechanical. "We've got a lot to do."

Tessa followed him in, glancing around the small cabin. It was spartan but functional, and she could see the recent additions—reinforced windows, a barricaded door. Her unease grew as she realized just how seriously Rath was taking this.

"I brought some supplies," she said, trying to keep her tone light. "Food, water, a few other things I thought we might need."

"Good," Rath replied, already sorting through the bags. "We'll need to stockpile as much as we can."

She watched him, her heart sinking. This wasn't the Rath she knew. He was always the strong one, the one who kept them going through tough times, but there was something different about him now—something colder, more distant.

"Rath," she began carefully, "you're scaring me. What's really happening? You've always been the paranoid type, but this feels different. Why are we out here?"

Rath paused, then looked at her with eyes that seemed far older than they should. "It's hard to explain," he said, his voice low. "But you need to trust me. Something's coming, and we need to be ready."

Tessa studied him, searching for any sign of the brother she knew. She could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands trembled slightly when he thought she wasn't looking. Whatever he had been through—whatever he had seen—it had changed him.

But he was still her brother, the only family she had left. And if he was this convinced that something terrible was coming, then she had to believe him. They had always relied on each other, through every hardship, and this would be no different.

"Okay," she said finally, her voice steady. "I believe you. Just tell me what I can do."

Rath nodded, a brief flicker of relief crossing his face. "There's someone else here—Dr. Kessler. He's unconscious right now, but he needs to be looked after."

"Kessler?" Tessa frowned. "Who is he?"

"A scientist," Rath replied, his tone clipped. "He knows about the virus—about what's going to happen. We need him alive."

Tessa didn't press for more information. She could see the strain on Rath's face, the way his eyes kept darting around as if searching for threats that weren't there. Instead, she followed him into the living room where Kessler lay on the couch, pale and unmoving.

She knelt beside the couch, her training kicking in. She checked his pulse, his breathing, and the bandages that Rath had hastily applied. "He's stable, but he needs proper care," she said, looking up at Rath. "You did what you could, but he's going to need more than just rest."

"I know," Rath said, turning away. "That's why you're here."

Tessa bit back a retort. There was no point in arguing with him—not now. She focused on tending to Kessler, doing what she could to make him comfortable. As she worked, she couldn't help but wonder what kind of man this scientist was, and why Rath was so determined to keep him alive. What exactly had Rath gotten involved in?

Meanwhile, Rath moved outside, grabbing an axe from the shed behind the cabin. The air was cool, the forest still shrouded in morning mist. He needed to clear his head, to channel his restless energy into something productive. The cabin was secure, but it wasn't enough. They needed more—more space, more protection.

He started chopping trees, each swing of the axe reverberating through the quiet woods. The rhythmic motion helped him focus, helped him block out the doubts and fears that threatened to overwhelm him. He didn't allow himself to think about how things had changed between him and Tessa, how distant he had become. There was no time for that.

His mind drifted to the clearing he was creating. It would serve as a buffer zone, a place where he could see any approaching danger long before it reached the cabin. Eventually, he would build a fence, something sturdy that could keep out both people and the infected.

Survival, he reminded himself. That's all that matters now.

But even as he worked, a small part of him—the part that he tried so hard to bury—couldn't help but wonder if he was losing himself in the process. If by focusing so much on survival, he was becoming something he didn't recognize.

Back inside, Tessa finished tending to Kessler and sat down, wiping her hands on her jeans. She watched Rath through the window as he worked, her heart heavy. They had always relied on each other, were always there for each other, at some point rath was the one who took over the protector role when he became older.

But now, it felt like he was slipping away, becoming someone else.

She wanted to help him, to reach out and pull him back, but she didn't know how. All she could do was be there for him, just like she always had been. No matter what happened, they were in this together.

Tessa looked down at Kessler, his face relaxed in unconsciousness. Whoever this man was, he was important to Rath—and that made him important to her. She would do whatever it took to keep him alive, just like she would do whatever it took to keep her brother safe.

But as she sat there in the quiet cabin, Tessa couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. Rath had dragged them into something dark and dangerous, and she had a sinking feeling that their lives were never going to be the same.

Outside, Rath continued to chop wood, each swing of the axe a reminder that he couldn't afford to be weak. He couldn't afford to feel. All that mattered was surviving—and making sure that this time, he didn't lose everything.

But deep down, he knew that the cost of survival might be higher than he had ever imagined.