IV. Wine and crayons.

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Paris, France. February 2036.

   One week had passed since Wilfred and Nadine had met. They could already see Paris in the distance, but night was approaching. They found a barn near the road, where they took refuge, huddling together with the straw to keep warm. They stayed close to the road to avoid getting lost but not too close to become an easy target.

   Both were huddled in silence, Nadine believed the little one was asleep. She couldn't sleep, she was terrified at the prospect of entering Paris. It was madness, but it was the only option. Thinking about it, she realized that a week ago they hadn't felt in danger; their only inconvenience had been the lack of food. The drowned saw them from afar and ignored them. She still didn't understand if that was good or bad... There were only two options: either the disease mutated again, or for some reason there was something preventing them from being attacked.

   Wilfred's stomach growled as it always did. He curled up and sobbed. Seconds later, he ran to a corner of the barn, expelling from his mouth what little was in his stomach, which looked just as unpleasant as when it was ingested. The girl sat up, propping the weight of her body on her elbows, and watched him sorrowfully. She knew he preferred not to be touched when he was like this. Later, he would always come seeking comfort.

   In silence, he nestled into Nadine's arms, trembling, yet his body felt warm. He had been food poisoned before they even met, the symptoms were getting worse. She did everything she could, giving him the best food available, but none of it was truly in good condition.

   Nadine hardly ate, she felt like her organs were crushed. She couldn't understand how she was still alive, they needed urgent help. That's where Paris came in. In every major city there were refugee centers where they treated the injured before transferring them to the main shelter. Only the most vulnerable were taken there. The rest received all the necessary information to travel. Unfortunately, the resources were not sufficient to accommodate everyone. However, once there, everyone was welcome.

   Few succeeded; it was a long and dangerous journey.

   The headquarters were located all over the world, but they were just waypoints. The main refuge was the final destination. Nadine didn't know where it was; there were only small rumors. Information wasn't as readily available as it used to be. It all started with Finland and Iceland, then Norway, Denmark, and Sweden joined. These five countries pooled their knowledge, resources, and volunteers to form a global organization they called Pangea.

   The countries that could contribute did so, as they were all chasing after the same destination: that safe place. However, politicians, wealthy individuals, or those with significant power disappeared. There had been no further word of them; rumors suggested they had their private hideaways to which they fled when they realized that their power couldn't help them.

   "Nadine... Is it much longer until we find help?" sighed Wilfred. "I'm very tided..."

   "Tomorrow afternoon we'll already be in the city. We'll have to move slowly and very carefully," she replied, gently stroking the child's hair. "It's dangerous, but all we have to do is find the signs, the signals that will lead us to the direction of the shelter."


Paris, France. February 2035.

   Nadine tried to focus on her classes, but knowing that her family was likely in danger made it nearly impossible. She talked to them every day via video call and exchanged text messages constantly with Triana. That day, they had agreed to videochat for breakfast. Nadine had been in front of her computer for half an hour with breakfast ready but untouched, waiting for the agreed-upon time.

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