The three of you had been walking for days, your supplies dwindling faster than your hope. The road stretched endlessly ahead, littered with wreckage and silence. Each night, Beck’s shoulders slumped more, Joe’s temper frayed quicker, and you felt the weight of leadership pressing down harder.

It was near dusk when you spotted him.

A man sitting by the carcass of an overturned truck, a small fire burning in front of him. He wasn’t armed, at least not visibly. His clothes were worn but intact—cleaner than most scavengers you’d seen. When he noticed your approach, he raised both hands slowly, a half-smile on his face.

“Travelers,” he greeted, his voice calm, almost too calm. “You look like you could use a hot meal.”

Beck froze. Joe stepped slightly in front of you, his jaw tight. You said nothing, just studied the stranger. Something about him didn’t fit—the way his fire was built too perfectly, the way his eyes darted to your bags when he thought you weren’t looking.

“I’ve got food,” he continued, patting a pack beside him. “Water too. Share a meal with me, rest a while. No strings attached.”

Beck’s eyes softened at the mention of water, but Joe muttered low, “Nobody offers anything for free out here.”

You agreed. Something was off. His smile never reached his eyes, and his voice carried the kind of ease only someone very practiced at lying could manage.

Still, refusing outright might provoke him. So you accepted—carefully. You sat across the fire, Beck beside you, Joe remaining half-standing, tense and watchful.

The man introduced himself as Elias. He claimed he’d lost his family weeks ago, traveling alone ever since. His stories were convincing, even sorrowful. Beck seemed drawn in, asking questions, but you noticed the way Elias’s gaze lingered on Joe’s knife, on your pack, on the worn shoes at Beck’s feet. Measuring, calculating.

When he handed out bowls of stew, you hesitated. The smell was tempting, your stomach growled painfully—but the nagging thought of poison crawled into your head. You caught Joe’s eye; he subtly shook his head. Beck lifted her spoon but you gently stopped her hand.

Elias chuckled softly, though his eyes flashed. “Careful, aren’t you? Smart. I like that.”