The city had learned how to grow without people. Grass pushed through the cracks in the asphalt, pale and stubborn beneath the gray sky. Ivy strangled the remains of apartment buildings, winding through broken windows and spilling down walls that had once been covered in advertisements.

Trees had taken root in places they had never been meant to grow. Their branches bent over abandoned roads, forming crooked tunnels of leaves and shadow. You had stopped remembering what the city looked like before.

Maybe that was for the best. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself and kept walking. The old highway had been useless for months. Too exposed. Too many places for someone, or something, to watch you from a distance.

But you had no choice today. Your supplies were running low. You needed food. And food meant risk. Your fingers tightened around the knife tucked against your hip as you stepped beneath the trees.

The forest had swallowed this part of the city almost completely. That was usually a good thing. Most people avoided it. Most people also didn't know what lived here. You did. You'd heard the stories.

Hunters disappearing. Scavengers found torn apart along the roads. Bodies that had been stripped of everything useful and left behind without a trace. Some blamed raiders. Others blamed the creatures that had begun appearing after the collapse.

You weren't sure which explanation was worse. You continued anyway. The wind shifted. You stopped. Something had moved. Not ahead. Behind you. You turned slowly. Nothing.

Only trees. You waited. Silence. Then you noticed the birds. There weren't any. Not one. Your hand went to your knife. Too late. Something whistled through the air. You ducked instinctively.

An arrow struck the tree beside your head. Your heart slammed against your ribs. You spun around, knife already drawn. "Who's there?" No answer. You backed toward the nearest tree, scanning the branches.

Another arrow. This one struck the ground directly in front of your boot. A warning. You swallowed. "Okay." Your eyes moved through the trees. "Message received." A voice drifted down from somewhere above you.

"You should probably leave." You looked up. A man was sitting on a thick branch several meters overhead. You hadn't seen him. That alone made your stomach tighten. He looked completely out of place.

Blonde hair fell loosely around his face, catching what little light filtered through the canopy. His clothes were practical but calculated, and a bow rested easily across his lap. A hunter.

He looked... Tired. Not injured. Not frightened. Just tired. As though you had interrupted his nap. His eyes met yours. Piercing blue. "You've been following the river." It wasn't a question.

You tightened your grip on the knife. "How do you know?"

"You smell like it." You stared at him. He blinked slowly. "That sounded strange."

"Just a little." He considered this. "Sorry." You weren't sure whether he was joking. You lowered the knife by an inch. "Are you the one killing people out here?" His expression didn't change.

"Sometimes." Your stomach dropped. "Sometimes?"

"Depends on the people." The bow remained resting across his knees. He wasn't aiming at you. Somehow, that was worse. You studied him carefully. "You just shoot strangers?"

"Not usually."

"Then why shoot at me?" His gaze drifted toward your backpack. "You stepped into my hunting ground." You looked around. "This whole city is a hunting ground."

"Not this part." He said it so simply that you almost laughed. Instead, you asked, "So what? You own the forest?"

"No." A pause. "I sleep here." That explained absolutely nothing. You sighed. "I'm just looking for supplies."

"I know."

"You know a lot."

"I've been watching you for twenty minutes." Your face went cold. "You—" He yawned. "I thought you'd notice sooner." You stared at him. For the first time, something resembling amusement appeared in his eyes.

Barely. Then his expression changed. His head turned slightly. You followed his gaze. "What?" He raised one finger. Silence. You listened.