Silence stretched for a heartbeat. Then, muttering curses under their breath, the group backed off, leaving the younger student unharmed.
Emily checked the student briefly. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," they whispered. "Thank you…" Their voice trembled, awe and fear mingled.
Emily simply nodded, turning back toward the main building. She didn't want attention. She didn't need it.
---
From a distance, Perry leaned against the wall, watching. He clapped lightly, almost silent. "Impressive," he said, smirking.
Emily glanced at him, expression unreadable. "It was nothing."
"Nothing keeps people alive," he countered softly. "Remember that. Even nothing can be deadly if used correctly."
She walked on, pocketing her hands in her sleeves. The murmurs from nearby students followed her. She could hear snippets:
> Did you see that? She… she just stopped them.
It's like she's… untouchable.
Emily didn't respond. She didn't need their approval. All she needed was to stay ready, because she could feel this was only the beginning.
In two weeks the announcement they will go camping.
The school bus rattled along the winding mountain road, every turn making some of the students squeal in excitement while others clutched their seats, white-knuckled and anxious. Emily sat near the back, her gaze fixed out the window, watching the trees blur into a rolling green wall. Even from the bus, the crisp scent of pine and damp earth reached her, reminding her how different this world was from the streets she had learned to navigate in her previous life. Here, there were no enemies waiting in every shadow—at least, that's what everyone thought.
She glanced at her classmates, laughing and joking in their usual carefree way. Most of them were oblivious to danger, preoccupied with snacks, selfies, and the usual gossip about the weekend. Emily, however, noticed everything: the way the bus driver's eyes lingered too long on the rearview mirror, the sound of leaves crunching along the roadside even when no one was walking nearby, and the subtle tension that seemed to hang in the air.
Beside her, Perry Lang leaned back casually, arms crossed. His dark eyes followed the road with the same calculated focus she did, though he made it look effortless. Emily had spent enough time around him to know that calm didn't equal harmless. He noticed things other people missed, just like her. They didn't need words to communicate—they only needed the briefest glance, and everything was understood.
"Hey, you two," called out a classmate from the front. "Quit staring out the window. We're going to be at the campsite in thirty minutes."
Emily's lips curved slightly, a small, knowing smile. Let them think she was just another student on a trip. She had to blend in. For now.
When the bus finally slowed and pulled off the main road, the forest opened up into a wide clearing. Tents were already set up, smoke from the fire pit curling lazily into the sky. The students spilled out, laughing and stretching their limbs after the long ride. Emily stepped down carefully, scanning the surrounding trees for anything unusual.
The moment her feet hit the dirt path, a subtle tension prickled along her spine. Something wasn't right. The air felt heavier here, and the normal forest noises—the rustle of leaves, birdsong, distant animal calls—seemed muted, as though the woods themselves were holding their breath.