Monday: A Cold Encounter
The journey had been long, the cold biting at their skin, but their resolve remained firm. Jas, Ivy Mae, and Roman continued through the harsh terrain, each step bringing them closer to an answer, even if they didn’t quite know what that answer would be. As they moved further away from the Grand Canyon’s strange sight, they stumbled upon a small clearing, the sparse trees casting long shadows over the ground.
That’s when they saw them. A family—two adults and three children—sitting by a campfire. The family seemed out of place here, their makeshift campsite poorly set up, with half-empty water bottles and barely lit fires.
“Hello!” Roman called out, waving to them as they approached cautiously.
The family didn’t immediately respond. The man, in his early forties, wore a thick, frayed jacket, his hair disheveled, his eyes sharp and wary. The woman looked to be in her thirties, her expression hardened, though her eyes flickered with a sense of curiosity as they made eye contact.
“Who are you?” the man asked gruffly, his voice low and defensive.
“We’re just traveling through,” Ivy Mae said, her tone friendly but cautious. “We’ve been on the road for a while. We’re just trying to understand what’s happening... the strange things we've seen. The flooding. The icebergs.”
The man scoffed, shaking his head. “You think you know what’s happening? What makes you think you’re any different from the rest of us?”
Jas glanced at Ivy Mae and Roman, sensing an uncomfortable tension in the air. The children, who had been sitting quietly around the fire, eyed them with suspicion, not speaking a word.
“I don’t mean to cause trouble,” Jas said, stepping forward with an attempt at a friendly smile. “We’re just looking for some answers. We’ve been traveling for a while, and—”
“You’re looking for answers?” the woman interrupted, her voice colder than before. “Do you think anyone has them? No one knows anything anymore. People are just trying to survive.”
Roman frowned but kept his voice calm. “We’re not here to start anything. We just thought we could share some stories, maybe help each other out.”
The man stood up suddenly, his posture rigid. “Help each other? There’s no helping. There’s only what’s left. Whatever’s out there... it’s out of our control. And if you’re smart, you’ll keep moving. There’s nothing here for you.”
Ivy Mae took a deep breath, and Jas could feel their heart rate increase. This wasn’t the warm reception they had hoped for. The family’s hostility was palpable. The children were silent, but they glanced at each other nervously, the tension between the adults thickening the air around them.
“We’re sorry for disturbing you,” Ivy Mae said, her voice low and careful. “We’ll leave you to it.”
They turned away, but the man’s voice stopped them before they could go too far.
“You won’t find answers in other people. The world’s too far gone for that. All you’re gonna get is more disappointment.”
Jas felt a pang of frustration but didn’t respond. They didn’t want to make things worse. Roman, however, cast one last glance at the family.
“We’re just trying to make it through. Don’t you think we’re all in this together?” he asked, though there was no real expectation of an answer.
The woman didn’t respond. The family went back to their campfire, and Jas, Ivy Mae, and Roman continued on, feeling a sense of coldness settle in their bones—not just from the chill in the air, but from the interaction itself.
As they walked away, the strange stillness of the encounter lingered. There was no warmth or camaraderie, only the harsh reality of people retreating into themselves, pulling away from any semblance of connection.
“I don’t know what’s worse,” Ivy Mae muttered. “The world falling apart, or people losing hope so completely.”
Jas said nothing, but they couldn’t help but feel the sting of the family’s words. Were they right? Was this what was happening? Were they just a few more wandering souls in a world that no longer cared?
The sun dipped lower in the sky, and the trio trudged on in silence, the cold biting harder, the world growing quieter with each passing mile.