The news that Ethan and the baby had been rescued spread quickly through the survivors' camp. There was a sense of relief, but at the same time, a shadow of uncertainty still hung over their hearts. They had fought so hard to get to this point, to protect the baby, to save Ethan. But while some celebrated, others couldn't shake the emptiness inside, realizing that victory didn't always come without a price.
Despite Ethan and the baby's safety, something far more painful was happening at that very moment: one of their own was no longer with them.
It had been an ambush from the hunters, a final offensive that had cost more than anyone had anticipated. Leandro, one of the group's most loyal survivors, had been the first to fall. During one of the forays to make sure the hunters weren't following them, Leandro had stayed behind to cover their retreat. It was in his nature, always willing to lay down his life for the others, but this time, there was no coming back.
When the group found him, it was too late. "Leandro… no, please," Alex murmured as he knelt beside his lifeless body. The blood had dried on his shirt, and his face showed an expression of peace, as if he had accepted his fate. But the loss was devastating, so sudden and cruel that not even the relief of Ethan and the baby's safety could wash away the pain.
Elena was the first to arrive at the scene. Her face hardened when she saw Leandro's body. She knew him well. He had been one of the first to join their cause, always with an indomitable spirit, always willing to take risks for the group's sake. She knelt beside Alex, her voice trembling when she spoke, "We can't leave him like this."
But there was little they could do. The battle had already been fought, and Leandro was gone. All that remained was the echo of his sacrifice.
The death of Leandro shook the group to its core. Not only because of the void he left behind but also because of how it affected each of them. Maya, the youngest of the group, began to cry in silence, clinging to her brother, who tried to comfort her without words. Kara, the group's unofficial leader, closed her eyes and took a deep breath, knowing that this blow meant more than the loss of an ally: it was a brutal reminder of how fragile life truly was.
"This isn't what we planned," Max whispered, looking down at the ground. "We thought that rescuing Ethan and the baby would make everything better. But now this... what now?"
Alex couldn't stop staring at Leandro's face. His mind was caught in a whirlwind of thoughts. There was a deep sadness, but also an anger beginning to grow inside him. "Why did it have to be him?" Leandro had been one of the strongest, one of the bravest, and now he was not there to celebrate the victory.
"No, I won't let this be in vain," Alex thought, clenching his fists. "If I have to go on alone, I will. So his sacrifice won't be forgotten."
The camp gathered for a brief funeral. There was no time for elegant ceremonies, but each of the survivors did what they could to honor Leandro. They formed a circle around his makeshift grave, and Elena was the first to speak.
"Leandro was one of us. No matter how hard things got, he was always willing to fight, to give everything for this group. Today, we not only lose a comrade, we lose a friend."
Elena's words lingered in the air, but the pain was still palpable. Leandro's sacrifice was felt in every corner of the camp. In that moment, the group understood something they had never allowed themselves to think: each of them could be next.
"We have to keep going," Kara said, her voice steady, though her eyes betrayed the same sadness everyone else felt. "We can't afford to lose anyone else."
The group, now more united than ever by Leandro's sacrifice, prepared for what was to come. The fight was not over, but now they knew that victory came at a cost. No one was safe.
The chapter ends with the survivors marching toward their next destination, Leandro's image in their hearts. Though death had taken him from them, his spirit stayed with them. They knew they had to honor his sacrifice and keep moving, for him and for the others who remained. The future was uncertain, but one of their own was gone, and they could not afford to forget what he had done for all of them.