Once again, I was all alone. Even my kidnappers didn't want me. If only I had gotten a better power. Like Aspis' shields, or Boulder Breaker's explosions, or... Well never mind that. My power sucked, and that was why I was alone. That was the point.
At least I had my bag. From what I'd heard inside the base, the camp was a good few kilometers away. Probably a week's journey or more for a child on foot. Without food and supplies, this walk would be a death sentence. Rather than waste the remaining daylight, I began to walk. Leaving behind the last vestiges of my nation's government in the process.
I understood that this was a mercy. Good powers were needed on the front lines for the last stand. Good men too. But I wasn't a man nor did I have a good power, so I would be spared the worst of the fighting. I was taking a direct path through the woods because it meant I wouldn't be found until I arrived at the refugee camp, which was protected from the war.
I understood all of that, but it still hurt. My parents left me, and now my nation left me. I wanted nothing more than to show up on a battlefield and save the day. Like a real hero. But that may never happen due to the hand I was dealt.
Sure, I could help people, but when push came to shove, and bad guys attacked, I'd be running away with the normal people. That's not a hero, that's just a regular guy. I couldn't just be a regular person. Not after all I had been through. That just wasn't what I wanted to be. I wanted to be like the Bolt. If I cowered away from a fight this small, how could I ever expect to stand up to people like the Big Boss Boy, Dingo, or Malcolm Ringer?
As if proving my point about my patheticness, I only made it about a hundred meters before I had to stop and take a rest. It didn't help that I was steaming mad. If I kept raging all the way through the forest, I would never make any progress, so I decided to just focus on the task at hand.
I got back up, and continued my trek through the woods. It took me several hours, but I could no longer hear the gunfights happening back at the fort. Deciding I was far enough out to be safe, I chose to set up my camp for the night.
I started to set up camp in a small clearing. I pulled out my camp stove and filled it with alcohol from my finger. After lighting it, I pulled a can of stew out of the bag and opened it using a small can opener. I peeled the label off of the can and placed it on the stove. Then, I got to work putting up my tent. I had been told how to put up the tent by my father on our camping trip around a year ago, but the process only really clicked when I was left to survive in the streets recently. Now I was very experienced, and it showed. The tent was up in under a minute.
Since the stew wasn't even warm yet, I decided to move onto security. The clearing I'd chosen was surrounded by a thick wall of trees and bushes on most sides. There were only two entrances. I took out a string from my bag, and placed used cans along its length. I then strung it up between two trees to act as a noise alarm. Once satisfied, I pulled a piece of wood with nails in it out of the bag's side pocket. I went to the other entrance, and buried the plank underneath the leaves that coated the ground. I concluded that the plank was invisible, and returned to my camp.
By that point, the stew was done cooking, so I used a cloth to grab the can and smothered the stove. I still had to wait a minute until it was cool enough to eat, so I did a once over on the rest of my setup. Satisfied, I returned to my dinner. I ate my stew, and went to sleep.
In the morning, I woke up bright and early. I took down and put away every component of the camp, except for the security measures. Normally, that was when I would take my morning shower, but after checking, I didn't have enough water to spare. I took down the security measures, and decided that the day's focus would be refilling my water supply.
I walked around the woods for an hour as the sun slowly crested the horizon. The mornings were actually starting to get pretty cold, and walking outdoors definitely wasn't helping. I would need to start lighting campfires when I set up camp. I stopped walking when I came across a small stream.
I pulled out a collapsable black water jug with a hose on the end, and filled it with water. I sat the jug on a rock in the sunlight, and proceeded to fill my other vessels in the stream. Once I was done with that, I grabbed the now lukewarm jug, and hung it from the highest branch I could reach. I turned a spigot and water began to slowly pour out of the short hose. I took a quick shower, and used the remaining water to briefly wash my clothes. I hung the clothes to dry as I donned new clothing.
Once the jug was fully empty, I collapsed it down and placed it back in the bag. Since the clothes would still have to hang for a while before they were fully dry, I decided to pull out a book. I chose one of the military field manuals I borrowed at the base, and began reading.
If I wasn't moving, I had to keep studying. After all, if my power wasn't gonna make me into a hero, I would have to do it the way the Blue Bolt did. By being smart enough to make up for my lack of powers.
I read a few chapters, and the clothes finished drying. I folded them, placed them into the bag, and continued on my journey. With the bag now full of water bottles, it was getting uncomfortably heavy, but I would have to deal with it. I had no idea when the next body of water would show up.
I continued that pattern for another week, and then I ran into a problem. My food supplies were starting to dwindle. Even if I lowered my consumption to only one meal per day, I wouldn't last another week. From the map I had in one of my books, I estimated that I was less than halfway to the location of the camp. Picking up the pace now would only run me out of food faster.
Left with no other choice, I decided to slow down in order to focus on foraging. I pulled out the survival handbook, and skimmed the chapter on foraging until I found the section on South American plants. Luckily, due to the mild climate, Most of our edibles were available year round.
I scanned the area for a pretty long time, but I eventually found what I was looking for. A pitanga tree. I pulled out one of my now empty bean containers, and managed to fill it completely off of the tree. While I was at it, I removed some of the leaves, as the manual said they could be used as a bug repellant.
Knowing these were wild pitanga, I wasn't looking forward to eating them, but I'd have to in order to make it. Since I had already used up most of the day hunting down food, I set up camp. Before settling in, I managed to find some more edible plants, and made a salad for dinner. It was absolutely disgusting, but I ate it anyway.
In the morning, I grabbed a handful of pitanga to eat while on the move, and left the tree. They were exactly as bitter as I thought they'd be. I spent the following week surviving mostly off of foraging, but only making about half as much progress as a result. That ended when I heard the muffled sounds of explosions from very far behind me. That one was loud enough to be heard from this far out.
A cold sensation washed over me as I realized. That was the sound of the base being blown up. Almost certainly the work of Boulder Breaker. If that were true, then my people may have just lost the war. I had to start moving a bit faster. I didn't know if the refugee camp would be moved or dissolved after the end of the war. If I arrived and there wasn't a camp, I wouldn't know what to do.
I quickened my pace, and started relying on my food reserves again. I also stopped being quite so careful in where or how I set up camp. Being far more concerned about making progress. Each day, I had less and less to eat. Less and less energy. I recognized the feeling, of course. I was starving to death. Just like when I was home alone, I could feel myself dwindling. I was withering away. Simply walking felt like climbing a mountain, but I had to keep going. The camp couldn't be far, or so I kept telling myself.
In my haste, I had failed to take down many of my campsites. Once I got my tent, I was ready to leave in the morning. Assuming I survived this ordeal, I would come back and pick up my litter later.
Finally, six days after the explosion, I arrived at the edge of the forest. I could see the refugee camp. It hadn't been moved. I ran to the camp, and collapsed to my knees in exhaustion upon finally reaching my goal. People rapidly gathered around the starved-looking new arrival, but I couldn't get so much as a word out to them. The last several weeks worth of aches, pains, fatigue, and hunger rushed back into me all at once, and I passed out.