The boy woke with a start, his brown hair was wild and outwards and his eyes soft and dull. He scanned his surroundings while he breathed erratically. He felt like he was in danger, like he was back in the forest, like he was in the city; but he wasn’t in danger. Not anymore. He was safe, or so he thought until loud noises came from the back of the cabin. It was a discordant mix of clattering and clanging like a raccoon was pillaging a dumpster and throwing its findings around.

Warily, the boy approached, navigating down a tight hallway toward the sounds. As he reached the entrance into the noisy room, he slowly peeked his head around and found a creature pillaging what was the pantry. The boy sneaked closer, hiding behind a table, to study it. It was not a creature but a blonde-haired boy, not much older than him, who was feasting upon the canned delights in the pantry with his hands and no regard for manners. He looked almost as dirty as the boy with brown hair, various smears of sauce riddling the blonde’s face, and a few splotches on his arms too. He wore a black T-shirt, and grey sweatpants.

The boy widened his eyes, the blonde still oblivious, and in reflex gasped at the sight. The blonde reeled back, hitting his head on a shelf in the pantry, and screamed much too highly, causing the brown-haired boy to wince. And then the blonde cursed three times before he closed his eyes shut, scared to see what monstrosity had let out that ghastly sound. His tan face and blonde hair made the boy think of a surfer.

“O’ Ghost! Leave me alone, please!” The blonde boy cried out, prostrating with his head down. “Don’t eat me! I am a thirteen-year-old boy. I am not tasty. I would know. I have much of my life to live and breathe and not be… possessed.” The blonde was silent for a few moments. “Not that it would be bad to get,” he swallowed, “possessed or devoured by a great being like you! No, of course not.” He awkwardly trailed off, waiting for a response.

The brown-haired boy, thought to be a ghostly monstrosity, was at first a bit appalled and taken back, but after a short moment, he smiled and walked up close to the blonde so that the groveling, shaking boy was right at his feet, and then he patted the boy’s hair, who flinched at the touch.

“Hello,” the brown-haired boy said. “What are you doing in my cabin?”

The two boys had settled now. They were in the living room with many beige couches, and each of the boys was sitting on their own.

“So,” the blonde said, shifting awkwardly in place.

“So,” the brown-haired boy echoed.

“I didn’t know it was your place, I swear! I – “

“I’m not mad at all,” the brown-haired affirmed, holding a slight smile. “I really don’t mind.”

The blonde’s eyes widened. “Really? So, can I stay here?” he said, hopping off the couch and beaming at the nonchalant cabin owner.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Sure, why not?” The boy shrugged.

“Just to be sure – “

“Yes,” the boy said resolutely, “you can stay.” The blonde pumped his fist in excitement.

“Thank you! What’s your name?” The blonde asked, sitting down next to the brown-haired on the couch. The blonde was much smaller than the brown-haired.fi

“Valentino, call me Valen,” he said. “And you?”

“Lancey,” The blonde boy smiled. “Can we go back and eat some more?”

Not long after, the two were eating at the brown, wooden dining table between the kitchen and living room.

“I’ve been in and out of the foster system.” Lancey said, his hands foraging in a can of green beans and eating them. “No one really took me on for long, and my current guardians hardly cared about me. As soon as everything started, I left. I don’t know much, but I was just stumbling around away from those crazies,” Lancey was trying to talk while shoving piles of food down his throat, “and then I found your super nice cabin and have been here for about a night or two.” He burped loudly, rubbing his stomach and sitting among a mess of empty cans. “That’s it.”

“Same,” Valen was also eating his share, though not nearly as clumsily or as much; and Valen, unlike Lancey, ate with utensils and plates. “This was my family’s cabin.” He looked up at the brown ceiling.

“Where are they now?” Lancey asked innocently, but then eyes his opened wide as Lancey didn’t respond. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Valen stared at the floor for a moment or two. It was hard for him to talk to people, especially after what had happened. He glanced at the pantry. There were still many cans left, but he was already worried about what would happen when the food ran out, or if a monster came and easily slaughtered them, which he believed was very much in their power, recalling the bear’s gruesome remains and what had happened at the city with his... They had told him to run and wait at the cabin for them. Valen didn’t know if they were alive.

“Lancey, we have work to do,” Valen said. “To survive.”

Lancey met Valen’s eyes. “I know, believe it.”

The two immediately began to assemble the vague beginnings of a simple plan. Valen realized that regardless of how scared he was of the outside world, information was important; and staying inside and cooped up would only be a temporary solution, after which they would have to stumble upon the new world completely blind.

So, the boys spent the rest of the day bashing their minds together, Valen pacing around the living room and Lancey around his mountain of cans, both offering their opinions and thoughts and jokes. They grew more familiar with one another. Eventually, after much of the day had passed, they concluded that they needed to stay under the radar, lest one of the monsters come, investigate, find a better food and water solution, and increase the defensive capabilities of the fort and themselves.

They ransacked through the cabin, which had a small upstairs, a main floor, and a large basement, for anything useful. There was a set of kitchen knives, of which Lancey found a machete the most appealing; a shed right behind the cabin with pliers, rakes, shovels, a lawnmower even, and a bunch of other assortments; a tiny office area with a computer, paper, pencils, and a printer in the basement. There was plenty, and it was up to them to put it to use, but night had come.

Valen was older than Lancey by around two years, so Valen took the bigger bed while Lancey took the smaller bed in the upstairs bedroom. That night was harder for Valen to fall asleep on, regardless of the soft bed. Frightening roars, some close and some far, pierced into the cabin like they had enough power to shatter it all completely. At other times, he heard heavy stomps much too close for comfort, causing the cabin to tremble and leaving Valen unsettled.

When it came to it, Valen turned to what he always did: his family. He focused on them. The smell of his mother’s cooking, the witty remarks of his brother, his younger sister trailing him, and his father happily talking. Valen’s surroundings drowned out as his memory overpowered, and soon he fell asleep.