Day 16
The sun rose quietly over the makeshift cabin village, casting a golden hue across the clearing. Birds chirped with surprising joy despite the apocalyptic world that surrounded them. Inside, a strange sense of peace lingered over the group.
The Wild Man blinked groggily as he sat up from his bedroll. To his astonishment, he found nearly everyone already up and about. A faint aroma of roasted root vegetables and dried fish wafted from the communal kitchen. People bustled around, cleaning, organizing tools, and sitting down in shifts to eat. He had expected a grim, disorganized crowd—maybe even chaos—but what he saw was routine.
He squinted toward the kitchen where Brie was handing out portions of breakfast and talking with the calm assertiveness of someone who had embraced leadership. "Eat before you work," she reminded each person with a gentle firmness.
"Is Gabriel the head here? This is his land, right?" the Wild Man asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
Brie chuckled, stirring a pot. "You'd think so. But no. It's Xenia. Her reasoning, her plans—they're what brought everyone together."
That surprised him more than anything. Xenia, the soft-spoken education major, commanding respect among survivors? But it made sense now. The coordinated efforts, the lack of power struggles—it was a different kind of leadership.
Brie handed him a wooden bowl filled with stewed roots and bits of smoked fish. "Oh, and after breakfast, help Anna collect more firewood. Then you can rest until your shift. Noon is break, light dinner after sundown. That's the routine."
Wild Man was about to reply when Marga passed by, holding a bundle of fresh greens and some tubers. "Morning! Look at this haul! Brie has a green thumb, and I guess I do too. Who knew?"
He smiled faintly, but his thoughts wandered back to yesterday.
"You know," he began, sitting beside Brie, "I actually saw something weird yesterday. That dog I followed—it led me to the cliff edge, and then into a cave. Well, almost. I didn't reach the cave. The ground gave way and I fell before I got to it."
That caught Xenia's attention. She walked over, arms crossed and brow furrowed.
"Why were you chasing a dog when I tasked you with watching the shore?" she scolded, half-glaring.
"I was watching the shore! Nothing was floating. Not a single log, not even driftwood. And the dog looked healthy. I thought maybe I could catch it—it wasn't infected, and it might've been useful."
"You risked your life for a dog," Xenia muttered, massaging her temples.
"I didn't expect the cliff to crumble under me!" Wild Man protested. "And anyway, I didn't see any zombies. Maybe you're just paranoid."
But Rico spoke up sharply. "They're real. I saw Ms. Benny turned. Cabin 4. Don't tell me that wasn't real."
Marga added proudly, "And I killed one on a bamboo raft. Don't say we're paranoid. You're just lucky."
Wild Man fell silent. He glanced at Anna, Brie, and Rico—the genuine fear in their eyes sobered him. "Okay... maybe I believe you."
But Xenia had already pivoted to planning. "That cave might still be useful. If there's a dog, fine. But more importantly, caves might contain clay, hardened stone, coal, or even deposits we could use to reinforce the cabins. Gabriel's house is mostly hardwood—narra, yakal, and molave—but we could reinforce it with better material."
Nestor, as usual, groaned. "We're really wasting time for a dog hunt?"
"No, for resources," Xenia replied with clarity. "Stones for fortification, clay for insulation or cookware. Maybe coal or other minerals. You want better walls? This is how we get it."
Gabriel nodded in agreement. "She's right. If we want this place to last through winter or more attacks, we need better building material."
Rafe, who had been sharpening his blade by the fire, stood up with a smirk. "I'm in. Always wanted to see what lies beyond those cliffs."
"Count me in too," Rico said, adjusting his gloves. "If there's coal or anything I can use for the forge, it's worth the hike."
Xenia quickly gathered supplies for the journey: rope, water, a small crowbar, a lantern, wheeled box and a journal to sketch the cave interior. As she strapped the boots Anna gave to her, she nodded to Tenorio.
"You stay behind, do some roving. Keep eyes on the perimeter."
Tenorio gave a curt nod. "If the infection spread to the nearby village, we could have stragglers soon. I'll keep watch."
With that, the small group set off.
The path to the cliffside was steep but manageable. Fallen leaves crunched underfoot as birds scattered overhead. The air grew cooler as they neared the cave entrance, tucked behind a craggy outcrop and partly hidden by creeping vines.
Rafe went in first, followed by Xenia with the lantern. Rico and Gabriel took the rear.
The air inside was damp and smelled faintly of moss and old earth. Shadows danced along the stone walls, and faint drips echoed with each step.
"Here," Rico said, kneeling to inspect a glimmering patch. "Clay. This is good stuff. Could be used to seal leaks or even mold into pottery."
Rafe whistled low. "Look up there. Those jagged stones—some look like basalt. Volcanic. Tough."
Gabriel pointed to the far end, where a narrow passage veered into deeper darkness. "We go further in, we might find more. Coal veins maybe."
Xenia took careful notes. "We'll mark what we find. Then we come back with tools."
But something made her stop. A faint noise. A whimper.
They turned toward a corner where faint light pooled from a crack above. Curled beneath a broken piece of driftwood was a small, trembling dog—mud-streaked but alive.
"The dog," Xenia whispered. "He's real."
She knelt down, extending her hand.
The dog didn't growl. He sniffed, and slowly, hesitantly, limped into her arms.
"He's injured," Rafe said. "But no bite marks."
"We bring him back," Xenia decided.
As the group turned back, arms full of stone samples and a new, scared companion in tow, the sun above was already dipping.