"Wh-what do you mean?"
Everyone on the bus stared at Bryan in bewilderment. They couldn't fathom why he'd suddenly say something like this.
After a moment's hesitation, Bryan glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. Then he leaned in close and, in a voice only they could hear, recounted everything he'd experienced in his nightmare.
"Bryan, do you realize what you're saying?"
As he spoke, disbelief spread across their faces. They looked at him as if wondering whether he was still half-asleep.
Seeing their skepticism, Bryan felt helpless. He understood how absurd it sounded—using a dream to predict reality. If he hadn't been the one who dreamed it, he probably wouldn't believe it either.
But the vivid scenes from his nightmare kept replaying in his mind. The sense of familiarity when he'd seen the soldier running outside. That gut-wrenching feeling of dread urging him to flee. Everything connected. He couldn't just sit here and do nothing.
Unlike the others' obvious disbelief, Wilfred's expression remained unchanged. As a seasoned adult, he had his own methods for evaluating situations. Outside of his daughter Anna, few could sway his judgment.
From the moment Bryan began speaking, Wilfred had been closely observing the boy's face for any sign of deception.
Not that he thought the boy had ulterior motives. After several days traveling together, he could tell Bryan wasn't a bad kid. And the boy had no reason to harm them. But they weren't family—a degree of caution was only prudent.
Yet by the time Bryan finished, Wilfred hadn't detected a single indication of lying. Either the boy was an exceptional actor, or he was telling the truth. Both were possible, but Wilfred leaned toward the latter.
Having made his assessment, he found himself hesitating. This could simply be the result of a nightmare affecting Bryan's judgment. Even if the boy was being honest, should he take a dream seriously?
But then Wilfred glanced at his daughter Anna beside him. He thought about all the scenarios Bryan had described. His decision crystallized.
Whether or not the nightmare comes true, there's no harm in getting away from here. Better safe than sorry. Anna's safety comes first. And what if it does turn out to be real?
He looked Bryan in the eye. "Alright. Let's step out for a while."
"Huh?"
Sylvia and Anna, who had assumed Bryan was simply rattled from his nightmare, were stunned when Wilfred spoke up and actually agreed to leave. They stared at him in disbelief.
Before they could collect themselves, Sarah and Allen chimed in:
"We think we should go too."
As the youngest members of the group, the two genuine children had the closest bond with Bryan—the fake child with an adult's soul. They would never suspect him of meaning them harm. Though the whole thing seemed absurd, they chose to trust Bryan unconditionally, nodding in unison.
Sylvia and Anna exchanged helpless glances, utterly confused about why everyone was taking a nightmare so seriously.
But since Wilfred had decided, Anna wouldn't contradict her father. And Sylvia wasn't about to stay behind alone. After a moment's silence, they both nodded their agreement. Worst case, we just get cold for a bit.
With the decision made, all six began gathering their belongings. Fortunately, everything they owned fit in easily carried backpacks. Within minutes, they were packed and heading toward the front of the bus.
Their procession—three adults and three children loaded down with bags—drew curious stares from the other passengers, who couldn't figure out what was going on.
"What are you... doing?"
Tracy had been resting with her eyes closed when the murmuring and footsteps roused her. Thinking something was wrong, she opened her eyes and turned around—only to see a familiar group approaching. Though puzzled, she waited until they were close before asking in a friendly tone.
The group stopped. Wilfred stepped forward and leaned down slightly to speak quietly.
"It's really cold on the bus. One of our companions is injured, and the pain from her wounds is getting unbearable. We'd like to find a nearby building to take shelter in and start a fire to warm up."
He gestured toward Sylvia, who was leaning weakly against Anna, playing up her discomfort.
This was the story they'd agreed on. We had a nightmare about disaster coming wouldn't get them off the bus—but an injured person needing warmth might earn some sympathy.
Besides, plenty of people had chosen to shelter in nearby buildings rather than wait in the vehicles. They just wouldn't have military protection anymore and would have to fend for themselves. And with the blizzard this fierce, even if soldiers wanted to help, they might not hear a cry for help.
"Well..."
Tracy hesitated, her gaze following Wilfred's gesture to Sylvia. She knew how Sylvia had gotten those injuries, and she respected her for it. The discomfort looked genuine enough.
After brief consideration, she nodded. "If you want to warm up, I won't stop you. But I need to warn you—once you leave this bus, until we're inside the hospital, you won't have our protection. You'll be responsible for your own safety."
"...Understood."
Wilfred pretended to hesitate, put on a conflicted expression, then nodded firmly to show he understood.
Tracy surveyed the group—women, an injured person, children. She frowned slightly. She really didn't want to see them take this risk. However you looked at it, they seemed pitifully vulnerable. And she'd grown fond of the ones she knew.
But she had no authority to stop them. It wasn't really her business. After a moment's hesitation, she glanced around, checked the hospital direction, and stood up.
"Forget it. You'll be in danger out there by yourselves. I'll escort you to your destination, then come back on my own."
Her sudden offer caught the group off guard. They hadn't expected this.
"Kane, watch things here. Open the door for them." Without waiting for them to refuse, Tracy called out to the soldier in the driver's seat.
Kane nodded, gave a thumbs-up, and pressed the button to open the door.
As the door hissed open, frigid wind rushed into the bus. Tracy shivered slightly, beckoned to the group, and stepped out into the cold.
With Tracy already outside, Bryan and the others had no reason to object. They followed her off the bus.
The biting wind clawed at every gap in their clothing. Snowflakes pelted them, quickly coating them in white.
The contrast with the relative warmth of the bus made them gasp. They immediately pulled their coats tighter and set off in the direction they'd agreed upon.
Given the intensity of the blizzard and their uncertainty about whether Bryan's nightmare was even real, they couldn't go too far. But if the dream was real, being too close meant certain doom.
After quick deliberation, they decided to find a building about a hundred meters toward the highway. That distance would let them observe the convoy while giving them room to escape if necessary.
As they walked, Bryan noticed firelight flickering in some of the nearby buildings—other survivors who'd chosen to shelter there. He looked back at the convoy and realized that the further they went, the more that oppressive feeling of dread faded. As if confirming his choice was right.
He pressed a hand to his chest. Maybe everything in that dream really was true. But why had he dreamed it in the first place?
Sigh.
Bryan shook off the thought. Now wasn't the time. He noticed Sarah and Allen struggling against the wind and snow behind him. He dropped back to walk behind them.
"Let me help!"
He placed a hand on each of their backs and pushed gently, helping them move faster through the storm.
...
Get 20+ chapters ahead on - P.a.t.r.e.o.n "RoseWhisky"