Unchosen 18

Tex took the lead as we followed the trail of blood. It wasn't that hard to follow for the most part, but occasionally the flatness of streets were broken by rubble and places where the natural world, although much abused, was trying to reassert itself. Tex was simply untouchable when it came to tracking, so it was natural that he lead the way.

As we walked, I found myself drifting into thought, against my better instincts. I told myself to pay attention to my surroundings several times, but I kept fading back into reverie as I followed the others. As disparate a bunch as we were, we'd still reacted with the same precision as we always had. There was more arguing and bickering than there had been when she'd been able to quell it with a word or a glance, but we still worked well as a team. That shouldn't have been surprising, but it was.

It couldn't be denied that she'd been the one thing we'd had in common, the one who took four strangers from across the wastelands and bound us into one unbeatable team. With her gone, I'd expected us to fall apart, or simply implode from our differences. I don't think I was the only one. The others, as young as they were, had lived lives of privation and ugliness too. It was only natural that we'd fail and crumble, as the entire world had before us. Except, we weren't. Not yet, and maybe not ever. It was a disturbing thought, in a way. It was like hope had fled from us, but was now peeking at us from hiding, to see what we'd do.

That line of thought was cut short as Tex suddenly let out a startled sound, then crumpled to the broken pavement.