When I wake up, I hear the arrows rattle on father's shoulder.

Beneath closed eyelids, I see the blue, neon light Genoma shines onto Earth. Which tells me it's a lot earlier than usual. Has he even slept? Of course, he hasn't. This is the day he leaves.

I prop myself up on one elbow. The cave is quiet, and my little brother, Milo, is snoring softly by the improvised fire pit.

At not even ten years old, the world is much different now than what I would've liked for him to experience. Still, despite everything that happened... despite mom dying by inhaling the spores, his face is as fresh as a raindrop.

He doesn't know real danger. And he won't. Not while father and I are around.

Lying by the exhausted fire, the others are sleeping too. There's Maya, Sid, their two kids -- Finn and Alice, and Russell.

We found each other in this very cave, running from the spores storm two years ago. We didn't fight over resources. That's because there are none. Only the spikey, killer mushrooms that they eat. The ilks.

So we've stayed together ever since and helped each other survive.

Father, Russell, and I keep the group safe. We hunt and gather resources and make sure the ilks don't come any closer to the cave than we want them to.

Maya worked at John Glenn Research Center in the world before as an assistant for safety and mission assurance. It's because of her that we now know a thing or two about the ilks, their technology, and the changes in our atmosphere.

And then there's Sid, the veterinarian. In a world like this, people like him are rare. In fact, if it weren't for him, Milo would've died of pneumonia just a few months ago.

As I'm watching them, I realize I've been fidgeting with the corner of my sleeping bag this whole time. I worry too much, Maya sometimes tells me. But how could I not?

I get up, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands. I'm all dressed up in my hunting boots, my ash-colored hooded cloak, and always my mouth mask. We're ready to flee at any given time. You never know when the ilks are going to find you.

Out of naive habit, I look back to where I was sleeping, in case father scoured up any breakfast -- squirrel legs, as per usual. My heart sinks a little seeing that there is none. None of us have eaten in days.

"Hey," I whisper next to father, who's fletching a handful of new arrows.

"Levi. You're up. Sorry to wake you," he whispers back, without lifting his gaze, "But we should give it one last try before I go."

I nod and reach for my quiver, as father grabs the rest of the arrows and fills it up. One last try to find us some food before he leaves.

"Russell?" I ask him.

"Let him rest. We're not going far. Not today."

I put on my hood and we both slip through the hole in the cave ceiling.

Outside, the air is dense and filled with spores. You can see it in the gray fog that follows us everywhere. I press my hand onto the mouth mask to make sure it's there, even though I already know that it is.

This time, father signals with his hand that we go West. So I follow his lead in silence.

Going west means we're facing Genoma, the giant extrasolar planet that the ilks have dragged closer to Earth using some sort of alien electric thrusters. Maya believes that to be true, at least. In comparison, the moon is nothing but a shiny dot in the sky.

Genoma is where the ilks used to live. And, in fact, some still do. We see their spaceships going back and forth every night. If we weren't so frightened all the time, we'd probably be in awe of the magnificent view.

Stolen novel; please report.

Even so, Genoma isn't supposed to be here. And the world wasn't supposed to end.

Before the invasion, they sent asteroids to a bunch of planets in our solar system. Asteroids loaded with extraterrestrial mushroom spores -- which is what keeps the ilks alive. One of them got close and penetrated the Earth's atmosphere. And before we knew it, billions of people died simply by breathing.

The government then started a mass burning campaign, using huge flamethrowers all over the country to stop the shrooms from overgrowing. I remember helping my neighborhood in Chicago get rid of some when I was 15.

But the spores traveled far upon the asteroid's impact. So it was practically impossible to get rid of them at that point.

Then the bodies started piling up on the streets. Blood gushing out of their eyes, nose, and mouth. Arms and legs paralyzed from the infection in minutes. Eventually, they'd suffocate with their own blood and die.

And those who survived? We're still dying. Just slower. Mainly because the spores have infected our game, our crops, and our waters, which makes finding food close to impossible.

In fact, to get any food these days, you'd have to find small oases where the shrooms haven't fully grown yet, like a small lake, surrounded by tall trees or even a supermarket that wasn't completely destroyed during the invasion.

With each day that passes, they're harder and harder to find.

Which is why part of me knows today isn't going to end with a nice supper either. The thought of that, plus knowing my father won't be here with us by the end of the day makes my face drop and my legs feel numb.

As we walk, I glance over at his face, smoldering underneath his stony expression. I know he's angry. At the ilks, at mom's death, the hunger, the impossibility of keeping us safe. I can feel it.

That's how I know there's no way he's going to deviate from his plan. And yet, I try again.

"Father," I whisper behind him.

But he doesn't answer. I know the rules -- no talking when we're out in the open. The ilks could hear. And yet, the silence we have to keep makes me want to scream even louder.

"Please don't go."

He glances back at me, pressing his hand on his mouth mask. For a second, his eyes look like they're smiling at me. Until I realize it's nothing more than the pain, the anger, and the subtle frown he carries with him everywhere he goes.

He kneels down without answering and runs his fingers through a dry blade of grass. But it's not the grass that gets his attention.

It's something new. Something that, when you see it, you'd better run the fuck away.

A footstep. Out here, at the entrance of the woods, where we haven't seen any other humans in the two years since hiding in the cave.

No. It can't be a human's, I think to myself.

Russell told us about the ilks he's met. They were smart. And cunning. Often wearing clothes, like we do, to catch him off guard and enslave him into the city.

The size of this footstep, however, is similar to what a human would wear. Maybe a 7.5? We know the ilks are bigger. And they rarely travel alone. But then again, it could be a younger ilk.

Father and I look back at each other and quietly pull arrows from our quivers.

I'm now walking backward, back to back with him, scouting the ground we've already covered as he looks toward the forest ahead of us. My breathing slows down as I crouch slightly, just enough to help me act fast if ilks come out of the trees.

Snap!

In the distance, the sound of a breaking branch startles me. I move my point of aim in all possible directions, looking for any subtle sign to release the arrow.

Snap!

Father rotates his wrist pointing two fingers to the right.

It's the signal for taking cover behind big tree chunks. In the frame of two seconds, I throw myself to the ground, rolling over to my chosen tree.

Father does the same thing in the opposite direction. And we both wait in silence.

Hiding behind the tree, I can hear my own panting through the thick mask.

I close my eyes tight for a moment, reserving any strength I have left. It's hard enough killing ilks when they've got telekinesis and advanced weapons to fight against you. Try doing it on an empty stomach...

Snap!

I judge the sound to be several hundred yards ahead. Slowly, noiselessly, I glance over in that direction, using the tree trunk as my shield.

For a few seconds, there's nothing but fog and a few dead leaves falling to the ground. That's when I see it.

Up in the trees. Someone or something is either hiding or waiting for us to come out.

I lift my arm up high behind the tree trunk so that father catches the signal. And without waiting to see what he signals back, I glance over once more at the mysterious silhouette.

It's all dark, wearing some kind of suit that doesn't shine, flutter, or make any sound, unlike ours. Its face, as far as I can tell, is completely covered by a diamond-shaped mask, also dark in color.

But the one thing that makes my eyes widen in shock is... hair.

Long, chestnut hair, moving slowly in the spore-infected breeze that blows the back of my cloak away from the protection of the tree trunk. She sees it.

Fuck, I think to myself.

Without hesitating, she jumps off the branch and lands o a more distant tree, as if something pulls her away. Something that isn't quite clear as to what it is.

She does it again, only this time, her jumping away draws me in like a moth to a flame.

"Wait!" I shout, running after her among the trees.

"Levi! Don't!"

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