They were lucky. The batteries they’d found in the garage actually worked. Soldier didn’t even want to imagine what would’ve happened if the bridge to the nomad camp hadn’t lowered, leaving them stranded overnight in the unprotected city.


But that didn’t happen. And now they were sprawled comfortably in safety.


This time, no one was there to greet them. The nomads who’d hosted them the night before had headed to the other side of the city that morning. Soldier still wasn’t sure whether their train had been the only one, or if more such communities roamed the tracks.


As the old nomad had promised, one of the shelters, made from shipping containers and nestled just beyond the drop-bridge, was left open to those who held the right remote.


It wasn’t luxurious. But it was safe.


The door closed. The lock clicked. And with it came that rare thing: a feeling of certainty.


Inside was only the bare minimum. A wardrobe. A table. Two chairs. A bunk bed.


But it was all they needed.They just wanted to eat, rest, and gather strength for tomorrow.Then Civilian opened the cupboard, and found something unexpected.


A bottle. The liquid inside was slightly cloudy, fragrant with fruit, and promised at least a moment of distraction.


He opened it, sniffed, and smiled.


“This’ll be good,” he said, pouring it into two mismatched cups and handing one to Soldier.


“We’ll see,” Soldier said warily, taking a cautious sip.


And then nodded.


It was sweet. Smooth. With a pleasant burn that warmed his chest. Maybe their last toast before whatever awaited them the next day.


The dog had sprawled beside Civilian, resting his head in the man’s lap while the two of them drank and talked freely. As the bottle emptied, their laughter grew louder. Funny how little it took to forget the world outside.


But eventually, they reached the bottom.


The mood softened. Silence crept back into the room.


Civilian leaned his head against the wooden wall and stayed quiet for a long while. Then finally asked, “Do you know what we’re going to find tomorrow?”


Soldier looked at him, swirling the last sip in his cup before answering.

“I’m hoping... a new beginning.”


“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Civilian’s eyes narrowed, locked on his face, searching for something unspoken.


Soldier sighed and set the empty cup aside. He didn’t want to lie... but truth was the last thing he wanted to put into words.

“I know. But don’t ask me for another answer. We’ll see for ourselves tomorrow.”


Civilian stared at him for a moment longer, then shook his head, like trying to shake off thoughts, and dug his fingers back into the dog’s fur.


Soldier stood, pushed the chair back, and stretched.

“Let’s get some sleep. We’ll need to be sharp in the morning.”


Civilian watched him go, then took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Maybe he was right. Maybe they’d find a new beginning tomorrow.


Or the end.


But why ruin the night thinking about it?