Cora thumbs over the box’s surface, plain and ordinary like any other. To them two, it probably looks like some relic Cora decided to cling onto for no reason other than ties back home. Her backpack can carry everything the box can, Callista said. It only takes up space, precious space better saved for more important things like the white fruits she calls elikanders.

They’re not wrong–Cora refuses to part with anything from Earth, even their garbage. She keeps note of each plastic bottle, every item in her backpack engraved in memory. Some of it is completely useless, such as the wooden pencil without a pencil sharpener or the battered pack of sticky notes bought as precaution and abandoned once she realized all she needed were a few folders and a binder.

Either way, she shakes her head, holding the box defensively. “I will not throw it out.”

“Cora,” Liam says, nibbling the elikander. Juice drips down his chin. He’s not eating fast because if he does, he will hurl. She will, too. Her own elikander lies beside her, unopened, despite her stomach begging for food. “You’ve been carrying that box around since I met you. Honestly, I didn’t want to tell you to throw it out because we needed everything we had on us to survive. But that box is taking up space that we need to carry some elikanders in case things go south. Does that make sense to you?”

She shakes her head again, hugging the box to her chest. “I will not throw it out. That’s final.”

“What is so special about the box to you?” Callista asks. She rolls an elikander from side to side, sitting cross-legged. “It doesn’t look much better than something I’d find at a bazaar, not to mention your backpack is the only way we can carry more elikanders.”

“That’s… true, but that doesn’t mean I’ll give up the box for some more fruit. I-I can’t let it go. It means a lot to me.”

“Our survival does, too,” Callista says pointedly, but leaves the issue alone without strain to her voice, unlike her narrating the parts about her encounters with the so-called “Transients.”

“Think about it. Please,” Liam says, then continues nibbling on his elikander. Cora watches him eat for a couple seconds, mind going blank, before he stops and grabs her elikander, offering it to her. “Eat. Even if you don’t want to, it’ll help a lot. I feel stronger already.”

Liam looks haggard, bags underneath his eyes, but there is definitely a shine to his eyes that hadn’t existed in the morning. “Fine,” Cora murmurs, grabbing the hard fruit. She digs her nails into the apex where the thick vine had attached, slowly and methodically slicing through the outer circle.

“Woah, woah. Don’t you want to use my knife?”

Cora is reminded of the creatures that it has impaled. Liam had washed it off on the river, diligently scraping off the flakes of blood until polished metal remained and then let some more water run over it before drying it off over the fire.

It might be clean now, but still. “I’m good. But thanks.”

Juice spurts out of the fruit, coating her fingers. She hesitates, then pulls with her thumbs straight down, nails latched onto the indents she made. Her muscles bulge as the elikander begins to split. She is careful to apply steady pressure lest she end up like Liam’s first attempt, a bunch of scattered pieces strewn on the ground, visible behind him.

Luckily, the elikander splits with no issue. A tiny stream of juice runs out of the exposed halves, wetting the soil. Tentatively, she presses her tongue to one half, expecting the worst. Citrus and lemon undertones seep into her tongue, followed by watermelon.

She bites a chunk out of the fruit, careful to keep her portion small. Her stomach grumbles as she savors the strange fruit, crisp like watermelon and bursting with flavors.

“This is good,” Cora says. She takes another bite, working her way through the second chunk quickly. “I thought you said you weren’t from around here. Do elikanders grow in Endralova?”

“They’re popular all over the grid. We had a garden with several elikanders, among other things.”

“Oh. Back home we didn’t have these.”

The grid. Another term Cora’s unfamiliar with. Every time Cora dances around her and Liam’s actual identities and origins, it makes her want to tear her hair out because she wants to trust Callista. She seems like the type of girl who stays fiercely loyal, so long as an enemy isn’t made out of her.

She gave them elikanders. She showed them how to avoid getting scratched by them–by going inside the plant carefully on their bellies and snapping the fruit off its vine with a twisting motion.

Yet there’s a serrated edge to her. She won’t hesitate to do anything to achieve her goals. That Cora is keenly aware of, and it leaves her… unsettled. Of how quickly Callista composed herself after telling her story about all the horrible things that happened to her.

She isn’t human, Cora reminds herself, but it feels wrong to think that. Callista is every bit a person as she is. She might be different in some ways, but she’s still a person. Better. Not a hundred percent, but it suffices.

Callista frowns. “Magaram… nobody knows how your world is, really. The Transients don’t talk about it much, and I’m starting to think only their military knows. I want to know more about your world.”

Cora looks to Liam for guidance. He shrugs his shoulders in response, bowing his head low as he feasts on the elikander. She narrows her eyes. I see how it is.

“Like what parts of it? Our culture? Our life?”

“Everything.”

Of course. Cora runs through the mental images she has of home, of all the positive and negative interactions she’s had throughout her life.

“Some parts are good and some parts are bad. By parts, I mean everything. The people, the technology, the life–I can only tell you my perspective. Is that good?”

Callista nods eagerly.

“Okay. My life back home was good. I had what I needed and never really struggled. I had a few good friends, a loving family; everything I could've asked for and needed."

Vague, just as Cora intends. Callista asks how Earth is, but Cora wants to push forward a little, testing the boundaries she has with Callista. Get rid of the weight that dragged Cora down for years.

"Yet despite all the good things going on in my life… I started losing interest in everything. I didn’t find joy in the things I did anymore. Waking up from bed took a lot of effort out of me. There were doctors, of course. Psychiatrists. Counselors. They helped me get up when I was at my lowest. At the time I thought it was impossible. Life seemed pointless. Miserable. The same stuff playing out day after day, rushing towards a future I saw no point in.”

Liam stops chewing. His eyes are trained on her, and she feels the intensity in his scrutinizing gaze. Callista, however, has a blank face, nodding once.

“But even when I got better, some of those thoughts stayed. I thought they were right. I wanted more,” Cora says. “More than what I was given. I wanted to be in another place, another time.” She holds back a sigh. “And I made the wrong choice.”

Callista rolls the elikander into her lap. “Wrong choice, doing what? Feelings are difficult to control.”

Cora doesn’t dare confess. Liam is paying attention. “Believing in my negative thoughts,” she says, hoping she sounds convincing. “It took a while until I started appreciating what I had. I got some interests back. It wasn’t perfect, but I was recovering until I ended up here. Like you, a node appeared out of nowhere and I went through it not knowing any better.”

“Mmm.” Callista protracts her claws and stabs them into the elikander. In one neat motion, she slices vertically, splitting the elikander into halves. “I understand. My emotions got the best of me, too, when I was running away from the hunters. Several times they almost caught me because I was ready to give up on life. Is that the struggle you were facing?”

“Sort of. Yeah, it is. But I was getting better.”

Callista slices a half into quarters. “Was?”

Cora now knows that wishing for more is a dangerous thing. Yet there is still a tiny, persistent nagging that asks for more, despite Callista’s story and the harsh reality of surviving in alien wilderness convincing her that living another life isn’t worth it.

“I am getting better? All I’ve been focused on is surviving.”

“Same,” Liam says, dropping an elikander rind onto the dirt. He wipes his fingers off on his pants. “I’m sorry you went through depression. Some of my friends went through depression, too. It’s tough, isn’t it?”

Cora bites her lip. “It’s horrible.”

“I got you,” he says. If Cora were back in her old state, she knows his words wouldn’t mean anything to her, but right now they do, and she smiles, her insides twisting as she averts the truth about why he was taken with her.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“And I have your back, too,” Callista says. “It’s only fair that we cover each other. You too, Liam. You seem like the type to protect a lot. Like me. But even walls need something to hold them up.”

Liam opens his mouth, then shuts it. He makes eye contact with her. “That’s a good analogy. I like it. I’ll cover you, too.”

Speaking of protection. “You told us that the hunters were still out there,” Cora says. She nibbles on the first half she’d taken several bites out of. “Where, exactly?”

Callista retracts her claws and unfolds her legs. “I don’t know. Last I knew they were downstream somewhere. I’m not sure where.”

Cora shares a look with Liam. He jerks a thumb towards the campsite, the one they know definitely wasn’t built by either of them. Still. She has to make sure.

“Did you never make a campsite yourself?” Cora asks.

“Me? Even if I had my gift of fire, having a fire lit would’ve been the death of me. I hid out in the woods, taking shelter wherever I could.”

“Oh. Because we found this campsite like this. We didn’t build it.”

Callista quickly shoots up on her feet. She scans the surroundings, her purple eyes briefly flashing before her claws protract again, glinting dangerously. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” she hisses. “That means they’re more than likely to return!”

“They didn’t return yesterday,” Liam points out. “Plus, you yourself were sleeping not far from here. You yourself didn’t tell us about the hunters until after you told your story.”

Callista closes her eyes. “Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry for snapping like that.” Still, her claws twitch with anticipation of an enemy to come, her eyes roving around.

“We should be fine here. They wouldn’t expect you to use one of their old campsites, would they?” Cora says. “Like hiding in the most obvious places. It’s so obvious nobody would bother looking there.”

“You don’t know the Transients at all, then.”

Cora wipes her lips off with the back of her hand. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“They will go through every possible action available to them until their goals are met. Sooner or later they’ll think about returning back here, and then we’ll be sitting like open targets for them.”

There is tension to her voice, and a quiet trembling that Cora manages to catch. Her face softens. “I guess that means we have to pack up and leave.”

Liam shakes his head. “Leave where, exactly? This is the only place we’ve discovered where the riverbank isn’t blocking our access to the river.”

“Actually, I know where else we can go,” Callista interjects.

“Where does this happen to be?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“Let me take one guess.” Liam takes a bite out of another elikander slice, scrunching his eyebrows together. “That node you mentioned.”

“Unfortunately.”

Cora sighs. “There is no way we will go there. It’s where you came from, it’s where those hunters also came from, and if it’s still there then what’s stopping the Transients from camping there, waiting for you to come back?”

“I was only suggesting that if there’s two places where the river is accessible, there may be more upstream.” Callista’s claws retract. She picks up a bottle in each hand. Then her gaze turns downwards, where Cora’s backpack is. “About the box.”

Cora shakes her head. “I’m not throwing it out.”

“No, I was wrong. I forgot that we have these bottles to carry, too. The box is big enough to carry three or four of them.”

“Four.” Internally, Cora sighs, relieved that she won’t have to keep putting up lies and look desperately stupid for hanging onto a simple wooden thing. “There’s some bottles we need to fill up again, but I don’t trust the water. We should be fine if we start a fire, since there’s still daylight and it’ll be a couple of hours until night.”

Liam drops his slice, finished. “I’ll light the fire,” he volunteers, getting up and taking the magnifying glass from inside the box. Cora tenses, as she does whenever the lid flips open. Once more, nothing happens. He stands over the fire and angles the magnifying glass so the rays focus on a new pile of leaves.

“I’ll fill up the bottles, then,” Callista says, walking around and grabbing each empty bottle. That leaves Cora alone with her thoughts, but today they aren’t particularly welcoming, so she sets her sight on preparing her backpack with their materials.

She unzips it and rifles through the few belongings she owns. They're useless but don't take up much space, so she leaves them be. The plastic packaging itself she can compress, so it isn’t a problem. She estimates twelve bottles and four elikanders can fit inside if they're careful about their packing. The mesh bottle holders can hold two more, and her box four, bringing the amount to eighteen. That's less than the twenty they have, but one of them can carry one bottle in each hand.

Perfect.

Cora bites into what remains of her elikander, not minding the juice dribbling down her fingers. The fruit reminds her a lot of watermelon, crunchy and sweet, yet not sticky the way she remembers her hands being during summer.

Her heart seizes. There are five months left until summer break. No. Her phone has kept track of time since she went through the portal. It’s been four days. Four days here, three days on Earth.

Three days.

It feels like it’s been weeks. Maybe it’s the hard part of not having access to any of modern life’s commodities that exhausts her, or the fact there is no going back from her decision. Liam, Callista, and the elikanders keep Cora going. She isn’t sure what she would’ve done if she had to spend four days alone, at the mercy of all the creatures of the forest.

She shakes her head. She doesn’t want to think about it. Those thoughts have surfaced before, and she buries them where they belong, in an abyss where she can’t ever recollect them again.

Callista returns, setting down six filled water bottles. “That’s it, I believe. I don’t know where to put these,” she says. “One of them has a hole, though. Is that fine?”

“Yeah, it was like that before, too. Thanks.” Cora drops her elikander and takes the six bottles, placing each one in a hole close to the fire, nothing more than smoldering leaves, with Liam angling the magnifying glass slightly. “Hey, Liam. What are we gonna do about that bottle with the hole?”

“I calculated we’d have two extra bottles that wouldn’t fit in your backpack or box.” Same as Cora’s conclusion. “I guess you or Callista can carry a normal one and the one with a hole.”

“You’re gonna carry the backpack?”

He shrugs. He steps away from the leaves as fire breaks out, tiny flames licking at the remaining leaves. “I’m used to it. You’re still recovering from the branch incident and I assume Callista’s tired from her constant escapes from the hunters. I can handle it.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Callista says, stepping up to him and crossing her arms. “As I see it, either you, Cora, or both only have the gift of language, and nothing more. I have the gift of strength, and it is unfair to have you carry most of the weight when I could do it instead.”

The gift of language… now Cora begins to understand why they can understand Callista. But how? Why? If Callista doesn’t have this so-called gift… then who does?

“From what you said, it seemed like using your gift of fire took a lot out of you.”

Callista bows her head. “It did, but the gift of strength is different. It doesn’t take as big of a toll on me than you’d think.”

Liam shrugs again. “Fine by me. If you say you can, I’ll believe you.”

“How long until the bottles are ready?” Her body betrays her anxiety, every slight glance of her eyes telling Cora that whoever the hunters are, they are bent on finding Callista.

“Shouldn’t take long. We waited until the water boiled.”

“I’ll start packing,” Cora says, leaving both of them. She takes every filled bottle and begins to lay them neatly inside her backpack, before realizing that the elikanders will squish them. They have four elikanders, each the size of small melons. One in her hand weighs little, but the four of them plus fourteen filled bottles will make the weight hard to bear.

She hopes Callista’s gift can help her carry the backpack with ease, because Cora herself winces at the cargo she’s depositing. The four elikanders go at the bottom, three in the back pocket and one in the front. Next she tucks each water bottle inside, horizontally so there is more room.

True to Liam’s word and Cora’s guess, the backpack is only just able to zip up at twelve. The metal bites into her hand as she yanks the zipper up, then down again, closing it. She stuffs two more bottles into the mesh holders, then stands up, testing the weight with one hand.

She can barely lift it. Cora huffs and gently lowers her backpack onto the ground.

“My turn,” Liam says, making her jump.

She glares at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be watching the bottles?”

“Nah, Callista has it.” He touches the backpack with the tip of his shoe. “That looks bad, but I think I can carry it.” The backpack is bulging to the point that it’d be a miracle if the seams hold for even a day. He stands over the backpack and uses one hand like her. He raises it higher than Cora had, but his face is strained, muscles showing. “This is heavy.”

“Yeah, no kidding. It’s a lot of stuff we’re carrying.”

“My turn,” Callista says suddenly, popping up beside him. “Could you watch the bottles for me?”

“Sure,” Liam says, returning back to the fire.

Callista exhales, testing the weight with one hand. She turns and faces Cora. “I only discovered I had this gift recently. I don't know my boundaries.”

“Hopefully they’re high.”

Callista smiles. “I offered to carry, and I will.” Her amethyst-colored eyes pulsate right after, her pupils contracting, then dilating. In one clean movement, she lifts the backpack, holding it high over her head. Cora gasps, but it is Liam who responds first, surprisingly.

“That’s impressive!” he calls out from the campfire.

“I appreciate your commentary,” Callista says, lowering the backpack. “I’ll carry the backpack for as long as I can. It’s the least I can do to repay you two for rescuing me.”

Cora’s eyes crinkle. “Hey, we’re friends now, aren’t we?”

She leans in and hugs Cora. “I haven’t received this kindness from anybody except two people post-Fall. I can’t thank you two enough.” She strides over to Liam, who initially looks surprised when Callista hugs him next, but he pats her back, hugging back before they separate. “The water is boiling, Liam.”

“Right. Uh, Cora, want me to get it or will you?”

“I’ll do it.” She’s done it before. She takes the plastic packaging, wrapped up to the side of the back pocket of her backpack, and wraps it around her hands. She takes each bottle and places it away from the fire in the other holes, then stuffs the packaging back into the backpack.

Suddenly, the world lights up into blinding white glare, erasing the trees under the light and leaving Cora stunned, blinking rapidly to get rid of the aftereffects of the light, which is fading.

Liam reacts first. He grabs four bottles and throws them into the box, slamming the lid shut, handing it to Cora. His knife flies into one hand, his other holding the last two bottles.

“They’re here,” Callista says, swinging the backpack over one shoulder. Sweat beads on her forehead. Her fists clench at her sides, claws protracting. A semi-translucent film slides over her eyes, dulling the brilliant purple of her pupils. “The hunters.”