My eyes instinctively scanned the trees; it felt certain that something unexpected would pop out and ruin the moment. But there was nothing. Everything else dissolved until it was just me and Kyle together. He was still waiting for some kind of response or reaction.

We both breathed heavily, eyes flitting around. Wind roared in my ears, its cold rolling over my skin.

I leaned forward, taking his hands, feeling their scars and callouses from our years of struggling to survive—but also the fire of life still burning, hot blood still rushing through his veins. For now.

"I love you too," I breathed.

The rest of the night was a haze of orange flame and flying sparks until we drifted off to sleep, a dot of fiery warmth in the bitter cold.

At dawn, we went to join the others, only to discover Matt sleeping alone.

Jade and Shaun had vanished in the night.

All of their gear remained by the campfire, even Shaun's jacket, a fact that sent an electric shiver up my spine. They couldn't have simply ventured out on their own—not without any supplies, I was certain. They wouldn't survive.

Meaning they must have had assistance. My eyes shot toward the sky, a sickly yellow backdrop behind churning clouds. The air suddenly felt heavy and suffocating.

I sifted through their abandoned belongings as Kyle called their names hoarsely through the trees. Matt soon joined him, his voice carrying further.

I dug Shaun's supplies from the pack, tossing them into a haphazard pile in the dirt. Shoving my hand blindly into the bag, my fingers slid over what felt like paper, slicing into my skin. I inhaled sharply and drew a folded note out, dotted with blood.

Eyeing Kyle and Matt, who were both occupied with searching the area, I quietly unfolded it and began to read.

When time runs thin, climb to the highest hill in sight. They're still learning to detect carbon-based life, so you'll need to make sure they can see you.

I can't wait for everyone to reunite.

Your friend, Jade.

My hand fell to my side, the paper still pinched between my thumb and forefinger.

I crouched before the smoldering remains of last night's fire. Numbly, the paper slid from my fingers. It curled and darkened as the heat ate away its edges. Soon, it was devoured by flame, indiscernible against the burnt wood beneath it.

And then there were fewer. The three musketeers, Kyle, Matt, and I, in the middle of nowhere.

For the first time, I felt the hopeless vastness of the wilderness pressing in on me. If we wanted to go home, we'd probably never find our way back. Kyle's hourglass was running out. So was mine. And the danger of hypothermia seemed to be growing with each night.

So things were bleak.

Still, we trudged forward. My boots were falling apart. It got so cold even at midday that we decided to stop for a break and build a fire. Then we abandoned our plan to continue through the evening because Kyle was shaking with pain. I could tell he was doing everything not to scream—to hide from me how bad it really was.

Matt and I went off together to grab some firewood and search for ever-dwindling edible vegetation. There were still walnuts scattered on the ground, but they might have taken more energy to crack open than they would provide in calories.

I mentally added starvation to my list of concerns.

"Remember when things were simple?" Matt asked, jolting me back to reality.

I answered honestly, "I try not to."

"The first time we talked was at school in third grade. Snack time, remember?"

I smiled faintly, the memory resurfacing. "That was the year they tried using AutoTeachers and all of our parents protested."

He nodded. "They were right, I didn't learn anything that year. But it wasn't because of the androids. I was too busy talking to you all class. And during recess." He smiled, the hardness of strain and age melting from his face.

"I loved recess," I sighed, allowing myself to imagine we were back in the schoolyard playing tag, the sun on my face—innocent, with no idea of what was to come.

"Honestly, it kind of crushed me when you disappeared. Without a note or anything." He let out a pained laugh. "My parents pushed me to enlist because they thought it might help me get over it."

We went silent for an introspective moment, strolling back toward the fire.

I stopped Matt, holding an arm out before him. "Then don't get too attached again. And don't be surprised when I disappear again, Matt." I stared earnestly into his eyes, then turned and kept walking.

"What am I supposed to do, then, when you're all gone?" His voice came from behind me; he'd stayed planted where he was.

I gazed at the ground. "I don't know. Coming with us only hurt you, didn't it?"

"Then why did you let me leave?" His voice sounded suddenly childlike and full of hurt.

"I felt so happy to see you. And I knew you could help us—"

"So I was useful to you?" he interrupted. "Were you even happy to see me, or just to be reminded of a better time of your life?"

I stared wordlessly.

"I see the way you look distant whenever we talk. You're somewhere else. I'm just a memento for your past life, is that it?"

"Matt, you chose to leave yourself. Don't act like I forced you."

He sat down, burying his face in his hands. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just...panicking."

I walked over and knelt beside him. "When the time comes, I need you to leave us behind. Search for another city. If anyone can do it alone, it's you. You had the courage to leave because you knew what our government was doing was wrong—"

"They need to be stopped." There was a chilling resolve in his voice.

I laid a hand on his arm. "I know, but I don't think you should try to go back, Matt. You deserted their military. They won't hesitate to kill you. And I think something is brewing, something bigger than all of us—"

"I can't live knowing those kids are locked up. I'll set them free if it's the last thing I do."

He looked up at the sky. I watched his expression shift from furious bloodlust to childish wonder.

Following his gaze, I saw a flurry of dancing snowflakes catching the sun's light. Just as when we were kids, we opened our mouths and caught the glittering ice on our tongues.