Chapter 60 – Day of Rest 7
The sun began to filter through the tall branches of the forest, painting the camp in golden, warm tones. Rays slid across the tent canvases, the stacked logs, the backpacks abandoned beside the extinguished fire. It was early, but not silent. The day was already breathing.
Gwen opened her eyes slowly, feeling the soft warmth on her face. There were no shouts, no challenges, no chaos. Only the murmur of leaves moving and the crunch of distant footsteps. She sat up carefully, stretching her arms, and sat at the edge of her tent. She observed.
Izzy was already awake, doing impossible stretches on a rock. Lindsay combed her hair with a twig, as if the forest were her beauty salon. Heather walked with a cup in her hand, probably filled with hot water, pretending it was coffee. Owen was still snoring, but his tent shook as if he were dreaming of food.
Gwen stood. Her body still felt the weight of the previous day, but her mind was clear. She looked toward Cody's cabin, expecting to see him come out as always, with that early-morning energy that defined him. But he didn't appear.
She frowned.
Cody was always the first to move. The one who lit the fire. The one who helped the chef. The one who made rounds through camp as if it were his responsibility. For him not to be there… was strange.
Gwen walked toward his cabin, slow but determined steps. Not curiosity. Concern.
The door was ajar. Gwen pushed gently and entered.
Sunlight slipped through a crack, illuminating the interior with a warm glow. Cody was there, sleeping deeply, his face relaxed, his body wrapped in blankets. He breathed slowly, as if the world didn't need him for a while.
Gwen stood still. She watched. Not like someone spying, but like someone trying to understand.
It was strange to see him like that. Vulnerable. Silent. Human.
Then, footsteps behind her.
Noah appeared at the door, yawning.
"Looking for him?" Noah said.
Gwen nodded.
"He never sleeps this long," Gwen said.
Noah leaned against the frame.
"He told us last night the chef gave him strong medicine. Something for the pain. Said it would probably knock him out until noon," Noah said.
Gwen looked at Cody once more.
"Is he okay?" Gwen asked.
"He's alive. And that's already enough," Noah said.
Noah smiled.
"Let's go to the dining hall. Owen just got up. If we don't get there first, he'll eat everything," Noah said.
Gwen hesitated for a second. Then nodded.
"Alright. But I want to come back soon," Gwen said.
"No doubt," Noah said.
And so, they left the cabin, leaving Cody to his well-earned rest.
The sun kept rising.
And the day… had only just begun.
The dining hall was still half asleep. Empty tables, air smelling of wood and burnt coffee, and the distant sound of utensils clashing in the kitchen. Gwen, Noah, and Owen walked in together, moving with quiet steps, as if the forest's silence had stuck to their feet.
Owen yawned loudly, stretching his arms as if to lift an entire tent. Noah walked with his hands in his pockets, observing everything with his usual critical gaze. Gwen walked in the middle, hair still tousled from sleep, but eyes awake.
"Think there's bacon today?" Owen asked hopefully.
"If there is, you'll see it pass on my tray," Noah said, without looking back.
"What if we share?" Owen said, smiling.
"What if we don't?" Noah said.
Gwen let out a soft laugh. "You two have the dynamic of a married couple without breakfast."
"And you're the neighbor judging us from the window," Noah said.
"No wonder Cody sleeps so much. To avoid hearing this," Gwen said.
"They gave him strong medicine. I checked before leaving. He's like a rock. Breathing fine, but won't move even if you play battle music," Gwen said.
"Yeah, he looked like a human burrito. Never saw him so still," Owen said.
The three took their trays and approached the counter, where the chef was already standing, apron stained, with his usual expression of "I'm not here to make friends."
The chef looked at them with a raised eyebrow, as if he already knew they were about to ask for more than they deserved.
"Well, look who showed up. The two favorite diners of the boy who didn't come today… and his bodyguard," the chef said, looking at Gwen.
"He's resting. I went to see him. Still asleep from the medicine," Gwen said.
"Yeah, he told us last night. Said he probably wouldn't wake up until after lunch," Noah said.
"And if we wake him early, he'll throw us across the room with his stare," Owen said.
The chef served eggs with brusque movements, but his tone softened slightly.
"Well thanks to you, my unpaid helper decided to take the day off. How convenient. Now I have to do everything myself. Do you know how many pots that kid washes without anyone asking?" the chef said.
"Cody really helps you?" Noah asked.
"More than you. That kid gets up before the sun, lights the fire, washes pots, even reminds me of ingredients I forget. And today, thanks to the bear fight, he's out of service. But I get it. Not everyone does what he did," the chef said.
Owen fell silent, rare for him. Noah lowered his gaze for a moment. Gwen gripped her tray with both hands.
The chef looked at them more calmly. His tone shifted. No longer mockery. Something closer to respect.
"You've found a good friend. And not everyone puts their life on the line for others. Not everyone throws themselves at a bear to protect their group," the chef said.
Gwen lifted her gaze. The chef looked directly at her.
"Take care of that boy. Because someone like him doesn't come twice in a lifetime," the chef said.
Gwen didn't respond immediately. She just lowered her gaze, as if those words lingered inside her. Then she nodded, with an expression mixing gratitude and something deeper.
"I will," Gwen said.
Noah and Owen took their trays and sat at the nearest table. Gwen followed, but before sitting, she looked toward the door. As if expecting Cody to appear at any moment—disheveled, half asleep, but with that smile he always brought to the group.
"Do you think Cody knows everything he's causing?" Owen said.
"No. And that's what makes him more valuable," Noah replied.
The dining hall kept filling little by little.
But the chef's words… lingered in the air.
The dining hall was full, but there was an absence louder than any noise. Everyone was seated: trays served, cutlery in hand, scattered laughter. But Cody's chair remained empty.
Gwen glanced at it sideways, as if expecting him to appear at any moment—disheveled, half asleep, with that smile he always brought to the group. Noah ate slowly, more thoughtful than usual. Owen was already on his second plate. Izzy had built a tower of fruit that looked like abstract sculpture.
"It's weird not having him here," Owen said, mouth half full.
"Yeah. Feels like the dining hall is… incomplete," Izzy said.
"He's resting. And he deserves it more than anyone," Gwen said.
"What he did yesterday… I don't think we've fully processed it yet," Noah said.
There was a brief silence. Not uncomfortable. Reflective.
"He threw himself at a bear. Alone. No plan. No backup. And came back walking," Owen said.
"And he didn't do it for attention. He did it for us," Gwen said.
"For you. For all of us. Because he couldn't stand the idea of someone getting hurt," Noah added.
Izzy spun her fruit tower like a ceremonial totem.
"That's what makes him special. Not just what he did, but why he did it," Izzy said.
Owen shifted in his chair, staring at Cody's empty tray.
"You know what's craziest? Nobody saw it coming. Cody was the funny guy, the one making bad jokes, tripping over backpacks. And now… he's the one who fought a bear," Owen said.
"The one who saved us," Gwen said.
"The one who put himself at risk without thinking twice," Noah said.
Izzy lowered her voice, as if sharing a secret.
"It's rare to find someone like that on this show. Someone who doesn't play just to win, but to protect. To care. To be," Izzy said.
Gwen nodded. "And he does it without asking for anything in return."
"Doesn't even brag. He just… does it," Noah said.
Owen scratched his head. "Do you think he knows what he means to us?"
"Maybe not. But we're going to make him feel it," Gwen said.
The conversation faded slowly, like a candle leaving warmth after it's out. Cody's chair remained empty. But his presence… was in every word.
At a table farther from the bustle, Heather, Lindsay, and Beth shared breakfast. It wasn't common to see them together without competition, but something in the air had united them. Maybe Cody's silence. Maybe the weight of what had happened.
Heather stirred her oatmeal harder than necessary. Lindsay bit into a heart-shaped toast she'd made by accident. Beth sipped juice slowly, as if each sip helped her think.
"Yesterday was crazy," Lindsay said, breaking the silence.
Heather didn't respond. Just kept stirring.
"When the bear showed up, I thought it was going to eat us. Literally. And Cody… Cody stood in front. Like it was a movie. Like he wasn't afraid," Lindsay said.
"Yeah, it was brave. Very brave," Beth said.
Heather sighed. "It was reckless. That's what it was."
"But he saved us," Lindsay said.
"And almost died in the process," Heather said.
Beth looked at her calmly. "Does it bother you that he did it?"
Heather stopped. Lowered the spoon. "No. It bothers me that… that he did it without thinking. That he threw himself in like he was invincible."
"What if he did it because we mattered to him?" Lindsay said.
Heather frowned. "Doesn't make sense. We're not that close."
"But he put himself between the bear and you. And Gwen. You saw it. He blocked it. You were there," Beth said.
Heather lowered her gaze. "I know."
Lindsay leaned closer. "Were you scared?"
"Of course not," Heather said quickly.
Beth smiled. "That sounded like a yes in disguise."
Heather crossed her arms. "I'm just saying it was insane. Nobody does that. Nobody throws themselves in like that. Nobody…"
"Nobody like Cody?" Lindsay said.
Heather didn't answer.
Beth took another sip of juice. "Sometimes the people you least expect do the biggest things. And that changes everything."
Lindsay smiled. "Cody's a hero. Like in books. But with fewer muscles and more sarcasm."
Heather let out a brief laugh. "And more clumsiness."
"But with heart," Beth said.
The three sat in silence for a moment. Cody's chair remained empty. But his name floated among them like an invisible presence.
Heather looked toward the door.
"I don't know what'll happen when he comes back. But… I think I'll tell him something. Not much. Just something," Heather said.
"Like what?" Lindsay asked.
"I don't know. Something like… 'thanks for not letting me become bear food,'" Heather said.
"That would be sweet," Lindsay said.
"That would be weird," Heather said.
"That would be sincere," Beth said.
And for the first time in a long while, Heather didn't argue.
The morning moved at a slow rhythm, but at the Killer Bass table, the mood was anything but calm. Plates served, lukewarm coffee, and words floating like steam over the food. What had been said the night before still echoed in their heads.
"Cody fought a bear. Literally. To save Heather and Gwen," Bridgette said, eyes wide as if she still didn't fully believe it.
"That's what we were told. That he faced it alone. That he blocked it when it went straight for them," Courtney said seriously.
"And he survived? Without losing an arm? Without becoming bear sushi?" Duncan said, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah. He's bandaged, but alive. And they say he did it without thinking. Just acted," Geoff said, a mix of awe and admiration in his voice.
DJ ate silently, but his eyes were fixed on the conversation. He didn't speak much, but it was clear what he heard affected him.
"I don't know about you, but that's not normal. Nobody does that. Nobody throws themselves at a bear for someone else. And especially not on this show," Courtney said.
"Maybe it's not normal. But it's real. And that makes it more impressive," Bridgette said.
Duncan leaned back in his chair. "Cody was always the funny guy. The one with bad jokes. The one tripping over logs. And now he's a silent hero?"
"Yeah. And that changes everything," Geoff said.
"Changes what? The way we see him? The game dynamic?" Courtney asked.
"Maybe both," Bridgette said.
DJ finally spoke, voice low but firm. "I think some people don't need to prove anything. They just show up when they're needed most. And that's what Cody did."
There was a brief silence. Not uncomfortable. Reflective.
"Do you think he did it for strategy?" Duncan asked.
"No. He did it by instinct. To protect. To care. And that can't be faked," Bridgette said.
Courtney crossed her arms. "He's an idiot for putting himself at risk like that. But… he's also someone you don't find twice."
Geoff smiled. "Never thought I'd hear you say that."
"Me neither," Courtney said.
Duncan laughed. "This is getting cheesy. Anyone want to change the subject before Bridgette cries?"
Bridgette ignored him. "I'm just saying… if Cody shows up here again, he deserves to be heard. To be seen differently."
DJ nodded. "Yeah. Because not all heroes shout. Some just… leap."
The table fell silent for a moment. Breakfast continued, but something had changed.
Cody wasn't there.
But his story… had already touched them.
Cody opened his eyes as if his body already knew the rest had run its course. No drama. No pain. Just the warmth of the sun streaming through the cabin window and the distant murmur of camp in motion. The world kept turning. And so did he.
He stretched naturally. The bandage on his side tugged slightly, but didn't hurt. His legs responded. His arm was steady. His neck turned without cracking. He sat on the edge of the bunk, lowered his feet to the floor, and stayed a moment staring at the ceiling.
"Am I almost at a hundred percent? Damn Max Steel… your powers are broken," Cody thought, with a crooked smile.
He stood, shook his hair with one hand, and walked to the mirror in the corner. He pulled off his shirt in one quick motion, letting the fabric fall to the floor.
And there they were.
The marks.
Three diagonal lines, still healing, crossed his left side. The bear's claws had left their signature. Not deep, but visible. And Cody looked at them like someone admiring an aesthetic upgrade.
"Makes me look tougher. Hanayama would be proud," he thought.
He turned slightly, checking his profile. His body was still slim, agile, but now had something more. Something that completed the silhouette. As if the wound were part of the design. A detail that made him more real. More complete. More protagonist.
He opened the cabin door and stepped into the open air. The sun hit his face. The sound of cutlery and laughter came from the dining hall. Everyone was there. But he had another destination first.
The bathroom.
He crossed the path with firm steps, as if the forest were his personal runway. Every movement was fluid. No clumsiness. No weakness. Just the rhythm of someone who had returned.
Steam began to fill the bathroom like theatrical fog. Cody was already shirtless, unhurried, with the scars marking his side as if they were part of an exclusive design. He approached the small portable player he had brought days earlier—a relic that barely worked, but had the essentials: volume and attitude.
He turned it on.
And there it was.
The beat.
The groove.
The unmistakable intro of My Lovin' by En Vogue started to play, with that rhythm that doesn't ask permission, it just enters.
Cody smiled.
"Perfect."
He stepped under the shower, letting the hot water wrap him like an ovation. He closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them… he wasn't just Cody anymore.
He was Robbie Weirdick.
The shoulder roll.
The exaggerated pose.
The hip movement that seemed to have its own choreography.
"You're never gonna get it…" Cody sang, voice deep and playful.
And then the dance began.
First with the arms. Then with the shoulders. A step back, another forward. His torso moved as if lit by neon. The steam made him look like a star in his own music video.
He pointed at himself in the mirror with an action-star smile.
"Robbie Weirdick, forest edition!"
He spun around, did a hip move that had no right to be that smooth, and threw a dramatic glance at the ceiling as if waiting for applause.
"Heroes rinse off in style too!" he shouted, bowing with the towel.
The song kept playing.
The water kept flowing.
And Cody… was in his element.
Not as the boy who fought a bear.
But as the boy who, after all that… still knew how to dance.