Back to the City

The three siblings cried until their throats ached and their eyes could no longer hold any more tears. The night carried their grief like a cruel echo, the smell of smoke still clinging to the air. Stacy, though her own body trembled, forced herself to stand tall.

Stacy: We need to leave before the police arrive.

Bryan hesitated, his legs frozen as he stared at the wreckage. His lips trembled, but after a long pause, he nodded.

Bryan: You’re right… we can’t stay here.

Dean said nothing. His face was pale, his eyes empty, as if every ounce of light had been drained away. He finally looked up to the sky with a cracked expression.

Dean: Why me… Why… what did I do… What did I do to deserve this…

His voice broke, dropping into a hollow whisper.

Dean: All I ever wanted was a loving home again… And the universe took it away… again… Again! I’m all alone… again.

Stacy’s chest tightened. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Dean, pressing him close to her trembling warmth.

Stacy: You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone.

Bryan’s body shook as he joined them, his arms locking around his siblings. For a long moment, they held each other in silence, letting the night bear witness to the lives of Mikey and Cristina.

Then the sharp wail of sirens pierced the distance, growing closer by the second.

Stacy: We need to move now before they get here.

Bryan: But… where will we go?

Stacy: Back to the city. We’ll figure the rest out there.

Bryan: It’s already dark… and we don’t have money for a hotel.

Dean remained silent, his gaze hollow, his body heavy with the weight of despair. No matter how much Stacy and Bryan tried to hold him together, he felt like the universe itself was against him.

The sirens grew louder, too close to ignore. Stacy and Bryan exchanged a painful glance before grabbing Dean by the arms.

Dean: No… don’t leave me… please…

His desperate cry cut through their hearts like a blade. But there was no time to stop. They dragged him to the SUV, his arms reaching back toward the burning wreckage.

Dean: Don’t leave me…

The pain on his face made Stacy’s hands tremble on the steering wheel as Bryan sat with Dean in the back seat, trying to hold him still. They shut the doors, locked them, and Stacy turned the key with a heavy breath. The SUV rumbled to life, pulling away from the nightmare, back onto the road that had once carried them to the festival.

Dean stared through the rear window; his vision blurred until a single tear slid down his cheek. Stacy felt her own tears fall as she drove, this one not just for Mikey and Cristina, but for the broken state of her brother beside her. Bryan clenched his fists in silence, forcing his tears back even as his chest ached.

The road stretched endlessly into the night, filled with nothing but silence, sorrow, and the soft sound of muffled sobs.

The journey back felt like hours, each minute dragging like the weight of grief pressing against

their hearts. At last, the SUV rolled into the city. But the glow it had during the festival was gone. The streets were swallowed by shadows, windows shut, doors locked, everyone hiding inside. Only figures lurking in the dark remained; thieves, eyes sharp and hungry, scanning for prey.

The SUV coughed and rattled as if on its last breath, the fuel gauge almost touching empty. Stacy gripped the wheel tighter as they drove through the dangerous streets. A group of men leaned against a wall, their eyes following the SUV like wolves eyeing meat. Stacy swallowed her fear and forced her hands steady, her gaze locked ahead. Bryan and Dean, too lost in their sorrow, didn’t even notice the threatening stares that followed them.

After what felt like an eternity, they found themselves in a quiet, abandoned part of the city.

Broken fences lined the road, trash bins lay toppled over, and the smell of rot lingered in the air. Stacy slowed the SUV and finally pulled over.

She stepped out into the night air, her shoes crunching against shards of glass.

Stacy: Stay inside.

Her eyes scanned the shadows, every corner, every sound. The silence was heavy, broken only by the distant barking of a stray dog. After a long moment, she exhaled and returned to the SUV, switching off the engine.

Stacy: We’ll stay here for the night. We’ll have to sleep in the car. Each of us will take turns keeping watch, two hours each. I’ll start. It’s already midnight.

Bryan gave a tired nod, too drained to argue. Dean remained quiet, his face calm but distant, as if nothing could reach him anymore.

Bryan leaned back, closing his eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come. His chest was heavy, his mind restless. Dean lay staring at the car roof, the emptiness inside him stretching into the night. Eventually, his eyelids grew heavy, and he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Only Stacy stayed awake, her eyes watching the shadows through the windshield. The city’s silence pressed against her, broken only by the occasional gust of wind rattling the broken fence. She reached into her pocket, pulling out the small amount of money she had left. Just a few crumpled bills.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, followed by a trembling whisper.

Stacy (whispering): What can I do… Mom… Please help me.

Tears slid down her cheeks, falling silently in the dark. Her shoulders shook, but she wiped her face quickly, not wanting her siblings to see her break.

In the silence, her mind drifted back to Cristina’s words, the night she had returned in tears, hopeless after failing to find a way through the mission Mikey had given them. She could almost hear Cristina’s gentle voice as if she were sitting beside her again…

...[Flashback]

...

Fifteen-year-old Stacy sat under a tree, her knees pulled to her chest, her face buried in her arms. Her shoulders shook with each sob.

Cristina, Mikey’s wife, noticed her from a distance. With soft footsteps, she walked closer, crouching beside the crying girl.

Cristina: Stacy… why are you crying?

Stacy lifted her head; her cheeks streaked with tears.

Stacy: (voice trembling) I… I couldn’t find a way out on the mission Dad gave us. Dean and Bryan got ahead of me, so they get to move on to the next mission… but I’m stuck.

Cristina’s expression softened. She reached out her hand and gently pulled Stacy closer.

Cristina: Come here, my little angel.

They sat together under the shade of the tree, the wind swaying the leaves above them. Cristina turned to her eyes full of warmth.

Cristina: Tell me, are you giving up?

Stacy went quiet, staring at the ground. After a long pause, she whispered.

Stacy: No… but I don’t know where to go. I’m stuck.

Cristina gave a small smile, tilting her head slightly.

Cristina: Then let me tell you a little secret. (smiles) The mission isn’t about finding the way out faster than the others. It’s about trying again and again, finding different routes until you finally get out.

Her voice grew stronger, full of gentle conviction.

Cristina: One’s ability to keep pushing forward, without giving up, that’s what really matters. It’s not about who reaches the end first. It’s about going back there as many times as it takes, until you succeed.

Cristina smiled and brushed Stacy’s hair back from her wet cheeks.

Cristina: So quit crying and go back there. Pass that mission, then catch up with your siblings. And don’t just catch up… (her smile widened, full of encouragement) Surpass them. Show them you’re the oldest… and the leader.

Her words lingered, powerful and warm, as the sun filtered through the leaves above.

...[Flashback ends]

...

Stacy sat in the silence of the SUV, her tears slowing. She whispered softly to herself.

Stacy: Don’t give up… Find different ways until one works, huh? (a faint smile broke through her tears) Even when you’re gone… you’re still guiding me. Thank you, Mom.

The night was still, but inside her chest, a fragile strength began to bloom.

The clock on Stacy’s phone glowed faintly. 2:30 a.m. She rubbed her tired eyes and leaned over to nudge Bryan.

Stacy: (softly) It’s your turn.

Bryan stirred, blinking awake. He nodded without complaint, stretching his arms with a quiet yawn before slipping out of the SUV. The night air was cold, but he welcomed it, leaning against the broken fence. He stayed outside, watching the shadows, letting the silence wash over him until 3:30 a.m.

Around 3:35 a.m., Dean began to stir restlessly in his sleep. His body trembled, sweat dripping down his face as his lips whispered broken words.

Dean: (weak, desperate) Mom… Dad… old man Mikey… Cristina…

His legs kicked in the cramped space of the SUV, one foot hitting Stacy lightly. The jolt woke her. She sat up groggily, only for her eyes to widen when she saw Dean. His face was twisted in pain, his body shaking, as though trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t escape.

Stacy froze for a moment, her chest aching at the sight, then reached out to shake him gently.

Stacy: Dean… wake up. It’s just a dream… please, wake up.

She glanced outside and saw Bryan, still sitting by the fence, lost in his thoughts.

Stacy: (calling quietly) Bryan!

But he didn’t hear her. Her voice was swallowed by the night.

She turned back to Dean, shaking him more firmly.

Stacy: Dean, it’s okay, I’m here… wake up!

Dean’s eyes snapped open at last. His body stilled, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. A single tear slipped from the corner of his eye as he slowly calmed down.

Without hesitation, Stacy pulled him into her arms, holding him tightly.

Stacy: (soft, soothing) Everything is okay… I’m here with you.

Dean leaned against her shoulder, silent at first. Then, for the first time since they left the wreckage, his voice came out low, fragile, but steady.

Dean: (quietly) Thank you… I’m okay now.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers.

Dean: (gentle, trying not to sound empty) Where’s Bryan?

Stacy: Sitting outside.

Dean nodded, his face calmer now.

Dean: I’ll call him in. I’ll take it from here.

Stacy frowned, worry flickering in her eyes.

Stacy: You sure you’re, okay? You don’t have to keep watch… I can keep watch for you.

Dean gave her a small, forced smile.

Dean: Thanks for the offer… but I’m fine. Don’t worry.

He slipped out of her embrace and straightened himself.

Dean: You and Bryan should rest. I’ll keep watch.

Without waiting for her reply, he opened the door and stepped into the cold air. Bryan looked up at him, surprised.

Dean: You can head back inside. I’ll take over.

Bryan: (frowning) But I still have twenty minutes left.

Dean: It’s fine. I’m not sleepy anymore… and I want some alone time.

Bryan hesitated, his lips parting to argue. But when he saw the faint strength in Dean’s eyes, he closed his mouth.

Bryan: …Alright. But don’t push yourself.

Dean gave a quiet nod. Bryan walked back into the SUV, though worry lingered on his face. Stacy and Bryan exchanged a silent look, their hearts heavy with concern. Then, slowly, they lay their heads back down. Exhaustion took over, and sleep claimed them once again.

Dean stood outside alone, the night air brushing against his face. For the first time, there was no screaming, no fire, no nightmare, only the silence of the surrounding city, and his own thoughts.

Dean stepped out of the SUV, the cold air brushing against his damp skin. He breathed deeply, trying to steady the chaos inside. The nightmare still lingered in fragments, but he forced his mind away from it, gazing at the stars faintly glowing above the city’s haze.

For a moment, a voice stirred in memory of his parents, Jack and Zoey, speaking to him when he was a boy.

Jack: (gentle, steady) Dean, whenever you feel alone, don’t forget… call out to God.

Zoey: (warm, soft) And believe that His angels are surrounding you, even when you can’t see them.

The memory wrapped around him like a blanket, not erasing the emptiness but softening it. He let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes.

Dean: (whispers) Angels, huh… maybe you’re still here.

Time passed quietly. The silence was not comforting, but it wasn’t crushing either. As the first faint light of dawn crept into the sky, Dean stood straighter.

Dean: (to himself, firm) Crying and sobbing won’t help us survive in this cruel world.

He clenched his fists, recalling Mikey’s lessons. With a determined breath, he set out to put those skills to use. The city outskirts were littered with scraggly trees and rustling bushes, and Dean patiently laid a simple snare. It took time, effort, and silence, but finally, his persistence paid off. When he returned, the sun had risen enough to paint the sky in gold. In his hands, he carried four dead birds.

Back at the SUV, 6 a.m. came. Stacy stretched awake, her body stiff from sleeping upright, while Bryan rubbed his eyes and groaned.

Stacy glanced around. Her heart quickened.

Stacy: Dean…? Where’s Dean?!

Her breath hitched, worry flashing across her face. She stepped out of the car, scanning the street.

Bryan: (calm but tired) Relax, Stacy. He wouldn’t just run off. Give it a second.

Before her worry could grow, a familiar figure came into view. Dean walked toward them, his shirt slightly dirty, his hair messy, but his face carrying a faint smile. In his hands, the birds hung lifeless.

Stacy let out a long sigh of relief.

Stacy: Don’t scare us like that, Dean.

Dean: (softly, with a faint smile) Sorry… I just wanted to do something to keep myself busy.

Bryan’s eyes widened as he stared at the birds.

Bryan: (disgusted) You’ve gotta be kidding me. You actually expect me to eat that?

Stacy shot him a sharp look.

Stacy: We can’t be picky right now, Bryan. Survival is our number one priority.

Dean said nothing. He set down the birds, pulled together broken branches and wood, and with some effort managed to start a small fire. The siblings huddled around it, the cold night finally giving way to warmth. The smell of smoke and roasting meat filled the air as they cooked the birds over the flames.

When the meal was ready, Dean bowed his head slightly, whispering a short prayer.

Dean: (quietly) Thank you for this food… may it give us the strength to keep going.

Without hesitation, he took the first bite. The taste was rough, but he chewed without complaint. Stacy followed, her face calm, though she swallowed hard.

Bryan sat still, staring at the charred meat with disgust.

Stacy: (firm, encouraging) Come on, Bryan. Eat up, or you’ll die starving.

Bryan hesitated, glaring at the bird as if it were his enemy. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he took a bite. His face twisted in discomfort, but he forced it down.

The three of them ate their small, meager meal in silence. It wasn’t much, but for the first time since the wreckage, it felt like a step forward.

Stacy brushed her hands together after finishing the last bite, her expression serious.

Stacy: That will have to do for now. Okay, everyone, dig into your pockets and bring out every dollar you’ve got.

Bryan frowned but obeyed, reaching into his jeans. Dean did the same, pulling out a folded bill he had tucked away.

Bryan: (flat) I’ve got fifty dollars.

Dean: (quiet) A hundred.

Stacy sighed, pulling out a crumpled note from her pocket.

Stacy: Twenty-five.

She set it down in her lap, staring at the small pile of money they had gathered.

Stacy: So… one hundred and seventy-five dollars. That’s all we have to survive with.

Bryan: (grumbling) That’s not even enough for a decent week in this city.

Dean stayed silent, his gaze fixed on the weak flames of the fire as it died out.

Stacy: Alright. Then here’s what we do. First, we get fuel for the SUV, we need mobility. Then we find somewhere to charge our phones. If Mikey or Cristina left us anything… we need to know.

She trailed off, her eyes heavy with worry. Bryan ran a hand through his hair, sighing.

Bryan: (irritated) With dead phones, no money for a hotel, and thieves roaming around, we’re screwed.

Dean: (calm but firm) No… we’re not screwed. We just need to be smart.

He looked at his siblings for the first time with focus in his eyes, though his voice still carried the weight of loss.

Dean: Mikey taught us to adapt. To survive. That’s what we’ll do.

Stacy nodded, her jaw tight.

Stacy: We’ll have to stretch this money as far as we can. Fuel, food, charging the phones… and maybe some supplies if we can. We’ll need to find safe places to rest too, not just the SUV.

The air grew heavy again, but this time it wasn’t just sorrow, it was the realization of the struggles ahead.

The struggles they would face:

– Finding safe shelter in a city crawling with thieves.

– Deciding whether to risk the little money they had on fuel or food.

– Surviving without the message Mikey and Cristina left them, a message that could change everything.

– Keeping themselves together when grief and fear threatened to tear them apart.

But despite it all, there was a small ember of hope. They had survived the night. They had eaten. They still had each other.

Stacy: (determined) We’ll get through this. One step at a time.

Bryan looked doubtful, but the strength in Stacy’s voice made him stay quiet. Dean simply nodded, clutching the memory of his parents’ words and Mikey’s lessons close to his heart.

The unknown still waited ahead, like a storm ready to break. And somewhere inside their dead phones… Mikey and Cristina’s voices still waited to be heard.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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