Page 38 of What Remains

“Thank you,” she whispered into the early dawn, unsure whether she meant it for fate, for God, or for Seth himself.

Maybe all three.

Jay crouched near a small fire he’d coaxed to life using scrap wood from the old church steps. The flames crackled softly in the half-light, casting warm flickers across his face as he poured a second round of water into the beat-to-hell tin percolator.

A few yards away, Seth sat on the hood of the SUV, the heat from his metal mug doing little to warm his hands. He kept his back to the fire, his gaze fixed on the two vehicles. Sleep headn’t come. Every time his eyes drifted shut, the image flared behind them: the man falling, the woman’s sobs echoing in his ears. It was a familiar weight, this exhaustion that had nothing to do with being tired.

Movement caught his attention.

The passenger door of the back SUV swung open, and a small figure climbed out—hair tangled from sleep, teddy bear clutched in one hand. Layla hopped down, boots hitting gravel with a light thunk, and looked around with the bright curiosity only a child could still possess in a ruined world.

Something stirred in Seth—not unwelcome, just unfamiliar.

Josie followed more slowly, sliding out with the guarded care of someone who hadn’t slept deeply in a long time. Cara emerged right behind her, guiding Layla gently toward the warmth of the fire.

Jay smiled as they approached, rising just enough to hand Josie a ceramic mug he’d scavenged from the church kitchen. “Coffee. It’s pretty strong but it will wake you up.”

Josie wrapped both hands around the warm mug, letting the heat ground her. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice still raw from the night before. She hesitated, then her gaze found Seth's, his expression unreadable.

Her throat tightened. “Last night... I meant it. Thank you. For saving us.”

Seth gave a single, sharp nod—controlled, not dismissive or cold, just careful. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said, his voice even. “You did what you had to do. I did what I had to do. That’s all.”

She took a sip and her eyes slid closed. “Omg, this is amazing, my coffee supplies ran out months ago.”

Cara gently pulled Layla onto her lap, distracting the girl by teaching her to stack pinecones into a “tiny forest.”

Jay handed Seth a second cup of coffee, clapping his shoulder once. “We’ll regroup in a few minutes. We should all eat something, warm up, then we figure out how to move forward.”

Seth nodded, his gaze drifting to Layla despite himself. The little girl held up a crooked pinecone tower and beamed, utterly unaware of how close she’d come to losing everything.

He took a long drink of coffee, letting the heat burn down into his chest.

Maybe today would be different. Maybe today he could breathe.

By the time the ashes had cooled enough to scatter, the morning had shifted. The air still held its sharp, early-spring chill, but the group moved with renewed purpose as they repacked the vehicles.

Jay cinched down the last strap on the trailer and dusted his hands on his jeans before turning toward Josie, who stood buckling Layla into the back of her SUV. She looked up.

“Josie,” he said, approaching at a respectful angle. “Can we talk for a minute?”

She closed the car door softly and stepped toward him. “Sure.”

Jay gestured toward the open stretch of road ahead. “Where were you headed before all of this happened?”

Josie hesitated, rubbing her thumb over the faded strap of her backpack. “Denver,” she said after a moment. “My parents live there. Or...” She swallowed. “They were there when everything started.”

Cara and Seth drifted closer, listening without crowding her.

Jay’s expression softened. “That’s where we’re going too—the outskirts, anyway. A big city means big risks but big supplies. We’re hoping to stock up enough to get our place fully stable before winter hits again.”

Josie nodded, absorbing the information, her shoulders sagging with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. “I don’t know how far I would’ve made it alone. I just wanted to get Layla somewhere safe.”

Seth’s voice, low and even, cut through his rigid posture. “Keeping her alive this long is more than most could do.”

Josie offered him a tight, garded smile.

“So,” Jay continued, “you’re welcome to stick with us. There’s safety in numbers, and working together improves our odds of reaching our destination. We can help you get to Denver, and...” He paused. “You might be able to help us too.”