The midday sun beat down on them as Jack, Sam, and Lila trudged through the dry landscape, each step stirring up clouds of dust that clung to their skin like a second layer. It had been days since they’d crossed paths with anyone, which suited Jack just fine. But as the land around them gave way to the jagged remains of an industrial outpost, Jack’s instincts prickled.

He signaled for Sam and Lila to stop, scanning the crumbling structures ahead. Rusted metal beams jutted out from the earth like broken bones, remnants of what must have been a factory or a processing plant. Jack noticed subtle signs—fresh footprints in the dust, a flicker of movement at the edge of his vision. Someone was here.

“We’re not alone,” he murmured, keeping his voice low. “Stay close, don’t make a sound.”

Lila’s eyes widened, but she nodded, clutching her small pack tightly. Sam cast Jack a questioning glance, but he followed his lead without a word. They moved carefully, stepping over rubble and keeping to the shadows as they advanced into the heart of the outpost.

Ahead, Jack saw a cluster of survivors huddled around a small fire, each one looking as worn and weary as the buildings surrounding them. They were lean, their faces streaked with dirt, their clothes patched and torn. Yet something about their posture, the way they watched their surroundings, told Jack they were more than mere scavengers. These people knew how to survive.

One of them, a tall, wiry man with a makeshift rifle slung across his back, spotted them and stood up, his gaze sharp and guarded. “Who goes there?”

Jack raised his hands in a show of caution, motioning for Sam and Lila to stay behind him. “Just passing through,” he said. “Didn’t mean to intrude.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, but he gave a slight nod. “We don’t get many visitors here. What’s your business?”

Jack hesitated, glancing back at Sam and Lila before answering. “We’re looking for information… on a place called Refuge. Heard anything about it?”

The man exchanged a glance with the others around the fire, and Jack noticed a flicker of something in their expressions—fear, perhaps, or doubt.

A woman with close-cropped hair and a scar running down her cheek stepped forward, folding her arms. “Depends. Why’re you looking for Refuge? Not all rumors are worth following.”

Sam spoke up, his voice steady but cautious. “We’re looking for safety—a place where we don’t have to keep looking over our shoulders. Somewhere… better.”

The woman gave a short, humorless laugh. “Better? Out here? Maybe once, but now? Refuge is just another name on a map, a place people talk about when they’ve got nothing else to hold onto.”

Jack’s skepticism deepened, but Sam’s face remained hopeful. “So, you do know something about it?”

The man shrugged, glancing at the others. “We’ve heard the stories like everyone else. They say it’s out there, somewhere beyond the hills, where the old cities used to be. But the place is guarded, tightly. Not everyone gets in—and those that do… sometimes don’t come back.”

Jack crossed his arms, his gaze hard. “Why’s that?”

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“Control,” the woman said, her tone bitter. “Places like that? They need order. Rules. And in a world like this, people will do anything to keep hold of what little power they’ve got.” She looked Jack over, her eyes cold. “So ask yourself—is Refuge really what you’re looking for? Or are you just trading one danger for another?”

Jack’s jaw tightened, the woman’s words hitting uncomfortably close to the truth. He’d seen plenty of places in his travels that had started with good intentions, only to fall into tyranny. Safety wasn’t free out here, not for anyone.

But Sam, ever the optimist, seemed undeterred. “We’ve got nothing else left,” he said quietly. “And if there’s even a chance…”

The woman’s gaze softened, her expression almost sympathetic. “Then I don’t envy you. Just know it won’t be easy. Especially with that sanctimonious madman Magnus and his goons prowling around.”

Jack’s attention sharpened. “You know about Magnus?”

The woman’s face darkened, her jaw clenching. “Everyone out here knows about Magnus. Calls himself a prophet, thinks he’s got the right to rule the wasteland. His Sanctified—those people are worse than any raiders we’ve seen. At least raiders don’t pretend to be righteous.”

Another survivor, a younger man with a knife strapped to his leg, leaned forward. “Word is, Magnus is gathering followers. Some say he’s building an army. People are so desperate, they’ll follow anyone who offers them hope, no matter how twisted it is.”

Jack felt a chill run through him, a sense of foreboding settling over him like a shadow. He’d seen the look in the eyes of Magnus’s followers, the way they moved with that eerie calm. They weren’t just loyal—they were fanatical.

“So you know where he is?” Jack asked, his voice low.

The woman shook her head. “He moves, stays one step ahead of everyone. But he’s got a pattern. Likes to leave his mark, remind people he’s always watching.”

The man with the rifle spoke up again, his tone grave. “If Magnus is after you, you might want to think twice about Refuge. People like him don’t stop. They keep coming, even when you think you’re safe.”

Jack felt the weight of those words settle over him, his thoughts churning. He’d always prided himself on his ability to stay one step ahead, to survive by keeping his distance. But with Sam and Lila by his side, he was no longer just looking out for himself—and that meant Magnus’s threat was closer than ever.

“Thanks for the warning,” Jack said, nodding to the group. “We’ll be careful.”

The woman gave him a long, searching look. “Be more than careful. Magnus won’t stop until everyone out here bows to him. Or bleeds for him.”

They left the outpost behind, each of them lost in thought. Sam was quiet, his face thoughtful, while Lila seemed unusually subdued. Jack could feel the tension in the air, a crackling unease that weighed heavy on all of them.

Finally, Sam broke the silence. “Maybe they’re wrong, Jack. Maybe Refuge is different.”

Jack’s expression was hard, his tone clipped. “Hope doesn’t keep you alive out here, Sam. It just gives people like Magnus a reason to come after you.”

Sam’s jaw tightened, frustration flickering across his face. “Maybe we’re not just trying to survive. Maybe we’re looking for something worth surviving for.”

Jack shook his head, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. “You get too attached to places, people, ideas… and that’s when you start making mistakes.”

Lila watched them both, her eyes moving from Sam’s hopeful expression to Jack’s stony gaze. She opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it, choosing instead to walk ahead a few paces, lost in her own thoughts.

Jack clenched his jaw, the tension building in his chest. He knew Sam meant well, but he couldn’t afford to get caught up in dreams or wishful thinking. Not now. Not ever. He’d seen what happened to people who believed in things they couldn’t protect—they ended up dead, or worse.

But as he looked at Sam and Lila, a pang of doubt crept in, nagging at the back of his mind. Maybe there was something more out there, something beyond the endless fight for survival. But was it worth risking their lives for?

As they trudged on, Jack’s thoughts turned over the day’s events, the warnings from the outpost, and the lingering threat of Magnus. He wasn’t sure if they’d ever find Refuge, or if it was anything like what Sam and Lila hoped. But for now, he would lead them forward. He owed them that much.

The dust settled around them as they continued into the fading light, each step carrying them further from safety and closer to the unknown.