The supply crate sat open, its contents spread on a blanket of leaves: sealed meal packs, a basic first-aid kit, a flashlight with two spare batteries, a compact water filter, and a folded note that read:
*"Only one crate per group. Next drop: 48 hours. Use wisely."*
The five teens sat around it in silence. Even Jayden, usually flippant, was quiet. They had won the first test—but barely.
Malik broke the silence. "We divide this carefully. Ration it. No one touches anything without agreement."
Zara nodded. "One meal per person per day. We stretch the water with the filter. The first-aid kit stays sealed unless we have no choice."
Jayden scoffed. "What if someone tries to steal it again?"
"We take turns keeping watch," Lina said calmly. "And we don't all sleep at once."
Efe looked uneasy. "They'll come back. The group we fought—they won't just let it go."
"They were disorganized," Malik replied. "But next time, they might not be."
As evening approached, they moved camp to a higher ridge, where visibility was better and escape routes were clear. Malik and Zara secured the perimeter while Lina gathered dry leaves for bedding. Jayden, surprisingly focused, used a sharp stick to carve defensive spikes around their base.
While they worked, Efe sat a little away from the group, arms wrapped around her knees.
Zara noticed and walked over. "You okay?"
Efe looked up, eyes glossy. "I didn't sign up for this."
Zara sat beside her. "None of us did."
"You're not scared?"
"I am. Every second. But fear's not useless unless we let it decide for us."
Efe nodded slowly. "I just don't want to lose myself in here."
"You won't," Zara said gently. "Not if you hold on to something real."
Efe smiled faintly. "What are you holding on to?"
Zara looked away. "My little sister. She thinks I'm on a school retreat. I promised I'd come back."
Silence lingered between them—comfortable, fragile.
Suddenly, Malik called out. "Movement. South tree line."
Everyone dropped low, tense.
Lina whispered, "Two figures. Approaching slowly."
Zara and Malik moved forward, crouched, while the others stayed behind cover. As the figures drew closer, they raised their hands—unarmed.
A girl and a boy, around their age. Mud-streaked, bruised, eyes sunken.
"We're not here to fight," the girl said hoarsely. "We just want to talk."
Malik kept his voice hard. "Names. Now."
"I'm Adaeze. This is Seyi. We were part of a group that split after the first test. They turned on us."
Zara studied them. They looked exhausted. Hungry. Genuine.
"You were with the ones who attacked us?"
"No," Adaeze shook her head. "They went west. We went the other way. We've been hiding since."
"Why come here?" Malik asked.
"We saw your fire. Took a chance."
Seyi stepped forward. "We can help. I know how to track. Ada can set traps."
Zara looked at Malik, then the others. "If we vote, and it's no, you leave immediately."
Jayden raised an eyebrow. "You trust them already?"
"I don't," Zara said. "That's why we vote."
They gathered in a tight circle, a small fire crackling in the center.
"Raise your hand if you vote yes," Zara said firmly.
She raised her hand first. Malik followed. Then Lina, after a beat.
Jayden hesitated, eyes narrowed. "If they try anything—"
"They'll answer to all of us," Malik said.
Jayden lifted his hand.
Efe paused the longest, but slowly raised hers too.
Zara turned to the newcomers. "You're in. But one mistake—one lie—and you're out."
Adaeze nodded. "Fair."
The new group of seven adjusted quickly. Seyi helped Jayden reinforce traps around the ridge, showing skill with ropes and branches. Adaeze taught Efe how to build snares using twigs and bait, her calm energy surprising everyone.
But Lina remained watchful. "Trust is earned," she said to Zara that night. "Let's see if they hold up under pressure."
By the next morning, the group had divided tasks: Seyi and Jayden went scouting; Adaeze, Efe, and Lina checked the snares; Malik and Zara reviewed the map for likely supply drop zones.
It was surprisingly smooth—until Jayden and Seyi returned.
Jayden tossed something into the center of the camp: a bloody headband.
"We found this near the river. And fresh footprints. Someone didn't make it."
Zara stared. "It's beginning. People are getting desperate."
"They always were," Malik muttered.
Adaeze's face paled. "That belonged to Tamara. She was in our group..."
Everyone went silent.
Later that evening, Seyi approached Zara while she sharpened sticks near the fire.
"Can I talk to you alone?"
Zara nodded warily.
He lowered his voice. "Not here. Away from camp."
She hesitated, then followed him a short distance into the trees.
"I overheard something. Jayden and Malik. Arguing. Something about rationing."
Zara frowned. "They've had tension since the start."
"No. It was more than that. Malik said if food runs out—'some people won't be needed anymore.'"
Zara felt her stomach tighten. "You sure?"
"Word for word."
When she returned to camp, Malik greeted her with a nod. Zara forced a smile but said nothing.
And that night, as the others slept, she kept her hand close to the knife hidden beneath her blanket.
Trust, she realized, might be the most dangerous weapon of all.
—