The night stretched endlessly.
Or maybe it wasn't night at all anymore—just an eternal eclipse that had swallowed the sun. Inside the lighthouse, the six of them huddled close to the lantern's dim glow, listening to the faint scratching sounds outside.
Patrick leaned back against the wall, staring at his camera bag in silence. It felt strange to keep carrying it, but it was the only piece of his old life he hadn't abandoned. He wondered if he'd ever take another photo of sunlight again.
Evelyn broke the silence. "We can't stay here forever. Food, water… this place won't hold out."
"Agreed," Leo said flatly. He sat cross-legged, sharpening the edge of a kitchen knife against a stone. The rasping sound filled the silence between them. "The docks are our best shot. If Maya's right and there's a working boat, we leave before these… things figure out a way in."
