Towards Safety. Towards Hope.

Benjamin bursts back into the cabin, rifle in hand, and the room feels as tight as a held breath. Elias is still slumped against the wall, pale and sweating, his shoulder ugly with infection.

Benjamin drops to one knee beside Elias. The festering wound has reopened beneath the bandage, and the smell of rot turns the cabin's stale air sharper.

Jenny shifts closer with her gun lowered, watching the window while Louis waits for Benjamin's call. The whole group holds still around Elias, waiting for the next move.

Benjamin shifts his weight, his eyes scanning the contents of the medical kit he pulled from the pharmacy stash earlier. He pushes aside the empty wrappers and finds a sealed, intact vial of antibiotics and a fresh, sterile dressing tucked into the bottom compartment.

Benjamin sets the vial down and works fast, swabbing Elias’s shoulder until the crusted blood loosens and the skin beneath shows through.

Elias sucks in a sharp breath, then goes still as the sting gives way to cold pressure.

Benjamin cleans the wound edge by edge, wiping away the dark runoff and the grime trapped under the bandage.

Jenny hovers close, one hand lifted like she wants to help but does not know where to put it.

Benjamin finishes the antiseptic pass and lays fresh dressing over the cleaned shoulder, smoothing it tight.

Outside, rain ticks against the cabin roof while the open medical kit lies between them, ready for the next decision.

Benjamin reaches for the supply pile and starts sorting by weight, not by habit. Cans, dry packs, and water bottles line up in neat rows across the table.

He sets a hard share for each person, then trims the extras into a reserve stack near the wall.

Benjamin catches a tucked-away bottle behind the tin crate, half-full and overlooked, and adds it to the water count.

The ration pile is finished, labeled by hand and set within easy reach, while the rain taps steadily at the cabin walls.

Benjamin sets the rifle on the table, realizing that the quiet hours ahead offer the perfect opportunity to refine his aim and turn the weapon into a reliable extension of his reach.

The cabin stays quiet except for the rain on the roof. Jenny eases back from the table, and Louis lets the breath out of his nose, both of them looking like the relief has finally reached their shoulders.

Jenny reaches for the rifle on the table, then leaves it where it is. The rain keeps tapping the roof like a quiet drum.

At the wall, the reserve stack sits neat and untouched, a small, hard proof that the cabin still has time to spare. Jenny looks to Benjamin, waiting for his lead.

Benjamin takes the shovel from the wall and steps into the rain, the cabin door easing shut behind him. The clearing is dim and wet, with the treeline black around the edges.

He crosses the mud with quick, measured strides, scanning the ground for a place that is dry enough to dig and quiet enough to stay undisturbed.

A slight rise near a crooked pine draws him in. The soil there looks looser, the roots thin enough to work around.

Benjamin plants the shovel blade and drives it down hard, breaking the damp top layer with one clean bite.

He works in a steady rhythm, lifting wet earth and stacking it to one side, the grave taking shape fast under his hands.

By the time the first cut is wide enough, he finds a flat stone beneath the sod, a natural marker at the head of the pit.

Rain hisses into the fresh dirt as Benjamin pauses at the edge of the hole, shovel braced in both hands, ready to call the others out when they are set.

Benjamin keeps digging, shoulders rolling under the rain as the grave opens wider and cleaner than before. Each shovel load lands with a wet thud beside the pit, the pile growing into a dark ridge.

The flat stone at the head sits fully exposed now, a hard marker against the soaked earth. Benjamin scrapes the last loose clumps away from the rim, making the edges square and deep enough to hold.

He stops only when the shovel strikes packed ground with a dull, final note. The hole is finished, and the rain can only bead on the fresh-cut walls.

Benjamin drives the blade upright into the mud and looks back toward the cabin. The clearing is ready, waiting for the others to bring Dane out.

A chill runs across the open grave as the storm thickens, but the work holds. There is no more digging left to do.

From the cabin door, a shadow shifts inside, as if someone is about to step out and break the silence.

Benjamin raises his voice across the rain, calm and steady, calling the others to the grave.

The cabin door opens wider. Jenny steps out first, then Louis and Elias, each carrying the hush of the room with them.

Jenny stops beside Benjamin at the grave edge, her eyes on the fresh earth and the stone marker.

Louis folds his arms and looks down at the pit, quieter now, waiting with the others.

Benjamin lowers the shovel and faces the three of them, rain ticking off the brim of his gaze. His voice carries cleanly over the clearing, steady enough to hold the moment together.

Jenny’s jaw tightens, but she nods once, eyes fixed on the stone at the grave’s head.

Louis looks down into the dark earth, then back to Benjamin, breathing out slow through his nose.

Elias swallows, shoulders sagging with the first real release he has shown all day.

A faint, shaky laugh breaks through the grief. Benjamin’s words settle them, and the grave stops feeling like only an ending. Jenny reaches for a clump of wet soil, waiting to cover Dane together.

Benjamin sinks the shovel into the wet mound and turns the first load onto Dane’s grave. The soil lands heavy, dark, and clean over the lowered body.

Jenny steps in beside him, cupping another armful of dirt to the edge of the pit. Louis moves to the other side, matching her pace without a word.

Elias watches from the grave’s head, rain running off his face. He bends at the waist and places a shaking hand on the flat stone, like he is pinning himself in place.

Benjamin throws another shovel of earth into the hole, then another. The grave slowly disappears beneath a rough, respectful layer of mud and rain.

When the mound is full, the three of them stand close around it, breathing hard, hands dirty, shoulders lowered. The cabin light glows behind them, warm and distant.