Jacob struggled to stay awake, his vision blurring as exhaustion finally overwhelmed him. His legs gave out, his thoughts faded, and he slipped into darkness.
Fifteen hours later, his eyes slowly opened.
Bright lights burned his vision. Voices echoed all around him hurried footsteps, low conversations, distant cries of pain. He was lying in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by movement, yet no one seemed to notice that he was awake.
Groaning, Jacob forced himself upright. His body protested with a wave of pain, but he pushed through it and carefully got to his feet. As he began to walk, confusion set in.
Where am I?
He wandered through long corridors filled with people being treated for injuries. Some were bandaged head to toe. Others sat in silence, staring blankly at nothing. The smell of antiseptic mixed with fear lingered heavily in the air.
Eventually, Jacob reached a large communal area where groups of survivors had gathered. Some talked quietly. Others simply sat, holding one another, trying to process what had happened.
As he scanned the room, arms suddenly wrapped around him from behind.
"Mister you're alive! I'm so glad!"
Jacob froze, then turned.
It was the little girl he had saved.
Relief washed over him, and despite everything, he couldn't help but smile. "Hey," he said softly.
But her expression quickly fell.
"My mom… she didn't make it," she whispered. "We were attacked by one of those monsters, and she died protecting me." Her voice cracked. "She died because of me."
Tears streamed down her face.
Jacob knelt in front of her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. "No," he said firmly but kindly. "It wasn't your fault. Your mom was brave. She protected you because she loved you."
He wiped away a tear with his thumb. "She wouldn't want to see you blaming yourself. She'd want you to keep living. To be strong."
The girl sniffed, slowly calming. "I… I guess you're right."
She looked up at him. "Oh mister, what's your name?"
"My name's Jacob," he said. "What's yours?"
She gave a small, tired smile. "My name is Emily Harper. And I'm ten."
Jacob nodded.
Suddenly, a group of soldiers entered the room, their presence commanding immediate attention. The atmosphere shifted as conversations died down and people turned to watch them pass.
The woman who had saved Jacob stepped forward, stopping in front of him.
"You're finally awake, Jacob," she said. "How are your injuries?"
Jacob winced slightly. "Hurts like hell… but I'm not dead, so I guess that's a plus."
She allowed herself a small smirk.
"But how did you know my name?" Jacob asked.
"From your ID," she replied calmly. "It was in your wallet."
Jacob immediately patted his pockets, panic flashing across his face. "My wallet—"
She raised a hand, stopping him. "Relax. Your wallet and your other belongings are secured in a locked cabinet."
He exhaled. "Okay… can I have them back?"
"Yes," she said. "After orientation. Follow me."
"Orientation?" Jacob repeated, frowning. "What orientation?"
"You'll find out soon enough."
That didn't help his nerves.
Jacob glanced over at Emily, who was now sitting nearby with a group of children. "I don't want to leave her by herself."
"She'll be fine," the woman assured him. "It won't take long. She'll still be here when you get back."
Jacob hesitated, then nodded. "Okay."
He went over and knelt beside Emily. "I'll be right back," he said gently.
She nodded, wiping her eyes, and soon wandered off to join the other kids, her laughter faint but real proof that some part of childhood still survived, even all that she had been through.
Jacob straightened and followed the woman, his heart pounding.