Chapter 3: The Dead Hope

"Eid!!" The man with the arrow hisses beneath his breath.

"Ono!" A lady softly replies.

She's draped in a mix of leaves, tattered cloth and animal hide.

She gently grabs the arrow and lowers it.

"Mickael, Ono…" She says calmly, standing between him and Jason.

"Ono? Datm otonid!" His eyes flare as he raises the arrow again.

"Eave eh be!" The lady commands, unwavering.

Mickael lifts his bow up–aiming right for her.

She doesn't flinch.

Her gaze pierces his soul.

His hand wavers.

All he can do is just stare her down.

"Peschit!" He growls.

"Atwayz ike dis!!"

He then gets up, walking away.

"Datm otonid, dan ouy filtha!" He shouts while pointing a shaking finger at her.

"What was that?" Jason walking on the beach, soaked, sunburnt, disoriented.

He looks around in confusion wondering where that voice came from.

The lady, looking at him from afar, hidden in the foliage.

"Oh outsider… I'm sorry…" She looks at Jason with pity.

Jason moving around in a fixed point in circles, looking confused.

He then stops and looks towards the forest.

"Must have come from there….could be another survivor." He mutters

"But…the prints first…don't know what's in there…" He says.

He turns, cautiously stepping forward.

"But he'll meet you when you're ready.." She murmurs, gripping the vine above her, throwing it to the ground.

She turns around and walks away.

The man, looking at her in disgust….

Her words echoing in his head.

hearing her speak…

"English?!" The man spits the word like poison.

He spits on the oath before her.

"Oh grow up, the world is changing." She casually steps around it.

…we should too." She casually walks around his spit.

The man scoffs, refusing to look back as he disappears into the wilderness.

"Hmm." She sighs.

Nodding her head in disappointment.

She then follows the man.

The leaves rustle as they vanish.

Meanwhile–

Jason keeps following the tracks on the sand.

"How much longer do I have to go…" he groans.

He then licks his lips.

They're dry as a bone.

"And I am thirsty….damn." He stops walking.

He collapses into the sand, wriggling like a frustrated baby.

"And my feet are killing me!!!" He cries, kicking them up in the air.

Only to slam them back down.

"Why'd any of this happen at all." He whispers, turning his head over…

His eyes drift to the ocean.

Calm.

Beautiful.

Mocking.

The sun glistens across the water.

"No but why me specifically." He mumbles, scooping a handful of sand and letting it trickle through his fingers.

"Why can't my life just be easy?"

He sighs, looking up at the sky.

His eyes, squinting.

A lone bird glides directly below the sun, blocking its blinding rays for a second.

He shields his face.

"Well no use complaining about why this–why that–"

he groans, getting his feet, brushing the sand off of his body.

"Now I have to think how in God's name I can survive this shit."

He puts his hands on his waist looking around.

"I can survive without food….but water…" As he looks at the sea flowing onto the shore.

He licks his lips again, tempted.

"No…No!" He snaps himself out of it.

"That's seawater dumbass, salty…. remember…."

Man… I really didn't pay attention in home school." He hits his own head, chuckling, banging it like a nagging mother.

He chuckles, low and tired.

"I have to keep moving forward I guess…"

Jason continues down the beach. The sun climbs higher, bearing down on him like a silent enemy.

He stumbles, nearly falls–over and over.

"Damn…I can't die here…" he mutters, collapsing on all fours.

He crawls

"Wait…am I dying?"

Panic sets in

"Will anyone actually notice we're gone?"

"Who's gonna save us?"

"I'm I the only survivor?"

The questions sprail, bouncing around his skull like ricochets.

Those thoughts are quickly cut short.

Jason hears crying.

A child's cry.

High. Sharp.

"Am I imagining things…or…" he mutters, eyebrows furrowed.

The cry gets louder–shrill, piercing.

"No, that's real!" He blurts, scrambling upright far too fast.

His legs wobble, his vision spins.

But he doesn't care.

He runs.

Or tried to.

Each step is sluggish —like dragging weights through syrup.

"That means… survivors!" he pants, a hopeful grin cracking across his sunburnt face.

He follows the sound, turning towards the left side of the shore.

The crying is close now, almost on top of him.

Then he sees it.

His face lights up.

"Hey—!"

The excitement immediately dies in his throat.

An unsettling feeling creeps in.

The hope fades.

There, near the shoreline.

A baby crawls across the sand.

It looks small, fragile…

And around it…

…People.

They lay there like discarded dolls, their skin pale-blue. Not just cold and sickly.

But wrinkled. Hollowed.

Their clothes soaked, skin sagging, faces blank.

Silent.

The baby continues crawling towards the edge.

The waves licking closer and closer to its tiny hands.

Jason's chest, beating like bombs are going off inside.

"No!" He shouts.

Lunging forward with all the strength he can muster.

The baby pauses.

Turns its head.

It looks at him.

It coos, giggles.

A sweet and innocent laugh.

Jason pauses.

Trying to process what he's seeing.

Too stunned to move.

"A-Are these….all survivors?" His voice breaks.

"No…No!!!" He falls towards the ground.

Banging his fist into the sound, letting out a roar.

The baby sees this, it crawls towards him.

"This putrid smell! How long have I been out?" He cries, trying to not breath in the air.

He covers his nose and mouth with his hands.

But the tears and mucus overflow through the gaps in his hands.

The baby reaches him, laughing, smiling.

It touches his head, rubbing it.

Playing with his hair.

Jason feels this touch, it feels warm and fuzzy.

"How can something like this…be happening right now…" He questions himself.

His voice cracks.

The baby taps his head, laughing.

He raises his head up.

His mind shaking.

Thirsty.

Hungry.

Tired.

He looks at the baby.

But he still puts on a smile just for it.

"Hey little guy…" Jason reaches his hand out to it.

The baby coos, grabbing his finger immediately and shaking it.

The baby then stops, but still grabs his finger.

Then it suddenly bursts with laughter with saliva running down its mouth.

Jason smiles, looking at the baby.

He's still shaken, but like a warm fire was lit inside him just now.

"Gaaahh ahhh." The baby motions towards the sea.

"What is it little guy…" Jason smiles.

He looks where the baby is pointing.

He's immediately speechless.

"C-Could it b-be?" He looks at a tiny box drifting on the currents.

It has so many ornaments on it, the sun's light was reflecting on all of them.

No wonder the baby noticed it.

Then one word was just ringing through Jason's mind.

"Hope."

—The end of chapter 3—