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The Last Testament
Chapter 13: Smoke and Companions

Chapter 13: Smoke and Companions

The gates of Refuge creaked open, and Jack, Sam, Lila, and Ezra stepped through, each feeling a rare sense of relief. The settlement was modest, tucked into the hills with walls made of salvaged steel and old brick. The people inside regarded them with a mix of curiosity and caution, their faces marked by the same weariness and grit that Jack saw every day in the wasteland.

They were led to a row of simple lodgings, four small bunks with patched blankets and a worn but sturdy roof. The group settled in, exchanging a few grateful glances, and for a moment, there was nothing but the quiet, heavy with the weight of relief. For the first time in weeks, they weren’t out in the open, bracing for the next threat.

Jack leaned against the wall, taking in the scene. Sam was sitting on his bunk, rubbing his sore shoulders, while Lila curled up in her corner, eyes drooping with exhaustion. Ezra, though, seemed restless, sitting on the edge of his bed with his gaze fixed on the floor, his hands twisting together as if trying to work out some internal knot.

Jack watched him for a moment, then dug into his pocket, feeling the familiar shape of his crumpled cigarette pack. He hesitated, then looked at Sam and Ezra.

“Hey,” he said, his tone casual, but a glimmer of something warmer in his eyes. “Got a couple smokes left. Figured you two might want to join me for one.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up, a grin spreading across his face. “Didn’t think you’d ever share those, Grizzly.”

Jack smirked, his usual gruffness softened. “Don’t get used to it.”

Ezra looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes. He glanced between Jack and the pack, clearly caught off guard. “You… you sure?”

Jack shrugged, but there was a trace of a smile on his face. “Figured you earned it, seeing as how you kept Lila safe back there. Besides, one smoke isn’t going to kill you.”

The invitation was simple, but it held weight. Jack had spent so long pushing people away that offering them a cigarette—a small, rare comfort—felt like a gesture of trust, one he didn’t make lightly.

They headed outside to a quiet spot just beyond the lodgings, where the hill overlooked the settlement. Jack handed each of them a cigarette, lighting them up before taking a slow, satisfying drag. The smoke curled into the sky, and for the first time in a while, he felt a sense of calm settle over him.

Sam exhaled, the smoke trailing from his lips, and let out a low whistle. “Didn’t think I’d ever get to sit back and smoke again. Feels almost… normal.”

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Jack chuckled, leaning back against the rocky wall behind them. “Enjoy it while it lasts. Normal doesn’t stick around in places like this.”

Ezra was quiet, holding his cigarette as if it were something foreign. He took a tentative drag, his gaze distant, and Jack noticed the tension in his shoulders, the way he looked at Refuge as if he didn’t quite belong.

“You alright, Ezra?” Jack asked, keeping his tone light but genuine.

Ezra let out a shaky sigh, his fingers trembling slightly. “It’s just… strange. I spent so long with the Sanctified, believing that everything outside of Magnus’s reach was… unholy. And now, here I am, sitting with you, looking out at a place I used to think didn’t deserve to exist.” He let out a humorless laugh. “Guess you could say I’m still trying to shake it off.”

Sam, sitting between them, nodded thoughtfully. “You went through a lot, Ezra. Hard to just walk away from something like that.”

Ezra looked down, guilt flickering in his eyes. “It wasn’t just what he did to me—it was what I did for him. I hurt people… people who didn’t deserve it. And every time I think I’m free, it’s like his voice is still there, whispering that I’m nothing without him.”

Jack took another drag, watching Ezra carefully. He understood that struggle, the way the past could linger, clawing its way into your mind even when you thought you’d left it behind.

“We all have things we’re trying to forget,” Jack said quietly, surprising himself with the softness in his voice. “But the fact you left him? That you chose to help us instead of running back? That counts for something.”

Ezra met Jack’s gaze, his expression vulnerable, and for a moment, Jack saw the glimmer of a man trying to rebuild himself from the pieces Magnus had left behind.

“Thanks, Jack,” Ezra murmured, his voice filled with gratitude. “I know it’s a mess in my head, but… this place, sitting here with you guys… it feels real. And that’s more than I could ever hope for.”

Sam placed a reassuring hand on Ezra’s shoulder, a warmth in his eyes. “You’re here with us now, Ezra. That’s all that matters.”

The three of them sat in companionable silence, the smoke trailing into the morning air as they each took comfort in the presence of the others. Jack felt a rare sense of peace, the burdens of the wasteland momentarily lifted. He hadn’t expected to find himself here, surrounded by people he’d come to care about, and yet, he couldn’t imagine it any other way.

For the first time in years, he felt like he belonged.

As they finished their cigarettes, Jack glanced over at Refuge, watching as the people within its walls went about their lives—children running between market stalls, traders bartering, and guards patrolling the perimeter. It was a fragile life, one that could crumble under the weight of the world outside. But it was also a testament to resilience, a reminder that even in the harshest places, people could find reasons to hope.

He crushed the cigarette under his boot, feeling a sense of calm settle over him. Turning to Sam and Ezra, he gave a small nod, a silent promise that he would protect them and this place with everything he had.

As they made their way back to the lodgings, Jack felt a new sense of resolve, a commitment to the people he’d chosen to call his own. They weren’t just allies—they were family. And if Magnus tried to take this from them, he’d learn just how far Jack Carson was willing to go to defend it.

For now, though, Jack allowed himself to enjoy the peace, the shared comfort of a cigarette and the rare feeling of trust. Moments like these were few and far between, and he intended to savor every one.