Chapter 5(iv) –
Departures in Motion
Jane's POV
We were moving.
Not just physically—but away from everything familiar. Everything still, everything dead. I pressed my back against the cold interior of the carrier, staring at the floor as it trembled with every bump along the broken road.
But my mind wasn't here.
It was with Amy.
She left because she was scared. I remember that look in her eyes—the way they darted like trapped light. Fear had a scent on her. Sharp, sour. I didn't understand it at first. I thought she was being selfish.
Now, I'm not so sure.
A few days ago—ironic how "a few days ago" now feels like childhood—we were in singing class. Ms. Arin playing chords on the keyboard, Amy next to me humming softly. She always sang under her breath, like she was afraid her voice might break something.
Maybe it did.
The carrier jolted hard, snapping me back. I looked around at the faces near me—Scarlett, quiet and unreadable. Blair, eyes shut like she was somewhere else. Luke, playing with the strap of his bag. Jonah, across from me, watching the road through a narrow slit in the wall.
Then he spoke. Something about the sky, or the clouds—or maybe it was just about missing hot chocolate.
I let out a small giggle. It caught me off guard. Laughter didn't belong here, but it slipped out anyway. Luke glanced up and raised a brow.
"What?"
"Nothing," I whispered. "I just remembered… you hate hot chocolate."
Luke grinned. "Still do."
The three of us shared a few hushed lines—nothing loud, nothing bold. Just the kind of whispers you shared in libraries, or at funerals. Things meant to keep the world from swallowing you whole.
Grey sat by the rear corner, eyes fixed on the narrow window. He hadn't said a word.
But I saw it. Just for a second—his eyes flicked. He'd noticed I was looking at him.
He didn't say anything.
He didn't need to.
We were all changing. Even me.
---
Grey's POV
The carrier shook, but I barely felt it.
My focus was behind us—on the outpost shrinking into the dust. I'd memorized its layout. The fence lines. The blind spots. The rhythm of the patrols.
I was already thinking like someone who expected another attack.
Most people in this carrier? They weren't ready. Scarred, yes. But not ready.
They didn't know how many would die before we even reached the city.
I let my eyes wander. Jonah was talking. Jane laughed. Luke chimed in.
Jane's laugh was soft. I didn't expect it to pull me in—but it did. I turned slightly, catching her watching me.
Something about her was different.
Tighter. More focused. She held herself like someone waiting for the next blow.
We were all changing. Some faster than others.
Luke's sudden laugh burst out louder than he meant. A few people jumped, startled. Someone gasped.
A soldier at the front banged his rifle on the side panel.
"Quiet back there!" he barked. "You think this is a joyride? Bunch of naive brats…"
The air fell silent again, except for the low hum of tires grinding over broken road.
A few minutes later, one of the officers stood at the front of the carrier, holding onto a handle as he addressed us.
"Listen up," he said. "We'll be stopping twice. First at a military checkpoint to refuel and resupply. Fifteen minutes, no straying. Second stop will be a recon halt near the last known breach sector. We'll wait there for clearance before entering the city."
A few heads turned, uneasy.
"You stay with your unit. You listen to commands. You do that, and we'll all make it to Sector One alive."
The officer paused, eyes scanning the quiet crowd.
"Don't test our patience. We've already buried too many."
He stepped back down, leaving us in silence again.
I turned back toward the window, catching the last glimpse of the road behind us. Dust. Sunlight. Shadows in the trees.