Three days had passed since the start of the trek down the river. The sky was darkening as the sun was setting. Without any sign of any other people they had begun to lose hope.

It was clear the travels had taken a heavy toll on their bodies. They looked thinner with boney limbs and deep set eyes with bags under them.

Currently Morgan was carrying the young boy Felipe. His young body was the most fragile of the group and was growing increasingly weak. At first, he just held Sarah's hand as she edged him to continue, but the distance was too much for him. It didn't take long for him to collapse, and the rest of the group had been taking turns carrying him on their back.

Morgan just stared down to his feet as he walked behind the rest of the group thinking to himself.

[Oh god. I'm so hungry. I want to eat my mom’s cooking again. I loved the enchi…]

“OWWW!!!, what the fuck?” , said Morgan abruptly.

Lost in thought he had not noticed that the rest of the group had come to a stop, and had slammed his face right into Nestor’s back. It seemed Nestor didn’t care to notice as he stared off into the distance.

Morgan stepped to the side in order to see what the other were looking at. What he saw shocked him, in a good way. A few dozen meters away covered in weeds was an abandoned log cabin. It was the first sign of anything they had seen since the start, and showed what they have been doing is not in vain.

Upon closer inspection it was clear it had been abandoned for many months or possibly even years. It was a primitive one room hut with no windows. The door surprisingly had a crude iron latch that had broken from rust as soon as they had attempted to open it.

Inside was a simple table, a chair and a wood bed with decomposing dried grasses on it.

It wasn’t a nice place as it was covered in dust with dirt floors and a notable draft; not even mentioning the now broken door.

Looking at it Morgan couldn’t help feeling it was ugly yet also the most beautiful thing in the world. He felt a pang in his heart as he regretted not having been more persistent in convincing Cristy to come with him.

He wondered if that thing had returned after they had left and whether anybody at the crash site camp was still alive.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

[ Never mind. No use thinking about it now. ]

The hut seemed as good of a place to sleep as any so they chose to spend the night there.

After four days of being together things had gotten very quiet between the group. Life had become a routine of sleep, walk and rest; and there wasn’t much to talk about at this point. If it wasn’t for the occasional request to stop to use the restroom Morgan doubted they would speak at all.

The next morning was no different. Like always Nestor had awoken first and woke up the others. However, there seemed to be an aura of new vigor and energy in the group from their discovery the day prior.

However, that feeling would soon be replaced with sadness.

“No! No! No! Wake up! Please wake up!.”

Sarah was shaking the boy Felipe roughly. It seemed his body had given up the night prior. He was dead and cold. He had likely passed away last night either from fatigue, starvation or both.

[ He’s pretty lucky. At least he got to go peacefully in his sleep. ]

Looking at the scene Morgan was disgusted by his own thoughts. Out of either shame or guilt he looked away and stepped out.

This was just the sad reality they had to face since the crash.

Death was EVERYWHERE.

About an hour passed before things had gotten better.

Sarah sat on the ground next to her brother Josh as she leaned on him. Her eyes were swollen from the crying and she hadn’t spoken since. Nestor had spoken to her and it seemed he had helped her come to terms with what happened, so now all she needed was time.

It felt wrong to leave Felipe there so they decided to bury him.

Nestor rounded up Morgan and Dick and told them what to do.

“I need you guys to start digging a grave. The soil is loose so it shouldn’t be too difficult. Meanwhile I’ll go down the bank and see if I can find something suitable for a gravestone.”

They both responded, “Okay. On it.”

As they dug the Morgan and Dick started on opposite ends slowing digging out the outline of the grave.

Once they were around halfway done Dick stopped and spoke to Morgan.

“Don’t you care?”

Morgan was confused at the question and said, “What?”

Duck looked at him seriously and spoke once again in a harsh tone.

“Don’t act stupid I saw your face when Sarah was crying over the kid. You were smiling and since then you’re the only one who hasn’t shown emotion at what happened.”

Morgan recalled his thought if the kid possibly being lucky by going out in his sleep and remembered he had a small smile at the idea before he had realized what he was thinking. The guilt from that made him feel he didn’t have the right to take part in the group’s remorse over the kids death.

It seemed Dick had caught on the that, but mistook it as him liking the death and not caring for others.

Morgan didn’t know what to say and looked down without a work and continued digging. Dick continued too and didn’t bring it up again.

It seems Morgan had made his first enemy due to coincidence rather than action.

By the time they were near completion Nestor had returned with a tall stone, on which he had carved the name Felipe in bold letters.

After the burial they said their prayers; a few words, and then they were off.

All the sense of hope they had since yesterday gone. The void filled with grief.