Chapter 245: The Long Way Back
By the time Adrian and Chandrika finally left the waterfront, the sun had already disappeared beneath the horizon.
The city lights of Basa slowly replaced it.
Street lamps illuminated the roads one by one while windows glowed warmly across the residential district. The distant hum of generators mixed with laughter drifting from restaurants and food stalls near the market square. Somewhere farther away, music played softly from a radio sitting outside one of the mechanic shops.
For a place built during the end of the world, Basa had become surprisingly good at pretending the world still existed.
They walked without rushing.
Neither of them seemed particularly eager to end the evening.
The roads remained busy despite the hour. Off-duty soldiers occupied outdoor cafés while families wandered between shops carrying groceries and supplies. Several children chased one another across a small park near the housing district while exhausted parents watched from nearby benches.
Chandrika slowed slightly as they passed them.
"I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this."
Adrian glanced toward her.
"The children?"
She nodded.
"When we were trapped in the hotel, I stopped seeing children after a while."
Her voice remained quiet.
"There were adults."
"Security personnel."
"Hotel staff."
"Guests."
"But no children."
The realization settled heavier than either expected.
The outbreak had changed cities first.
Children disappeared from cities first.
Schools emptied.
Playgrounds became silent.
Parks became dangerous.
An entire generation had nearly vanished before anyone even realized it was happening.
Now the sound of children laughing almost felt foreign.
A reminder that humanity still had a future worth protecting.
A little boy suddenly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.
His eyes widened.
"Commander Adrian!"
Adrian mentally prepared himself.
The boy immediately saluted.
Again.
Terribly.
The salute somehow managed to involve both hands.
Adrian returned it anyway.
The child looked victorious.
His younger sister tugged on his shirt.
"Who is that?"
The boy looked scandalized.
"That’s the Commander."
The little girl stared at Adrian for several seconds.
Then she looked toward Chandrika.
Then back toward Adrian.
Then toward Chandrika again.
Her expression suddenly became suspicious.
Children were terrifyingly observant creatures.
"Is that your girlfriend?"
Adrian nearly stopped walking.
Chandrika froze beside him.
The boy looked horrified.
"Maria!"
"What?"
The girl pointed accusingly.
"They’re together."
"We are not," Adrian answered immediately.
Chandrika nodded almost violently.
"We’re not."
The little girl looked unconvinced.
Children were also apparently impossible to negotiate with.
"Okay."
She clearly did not believe them.
Not even slightly.
The siblings eventually ran off toward their parents, leaving destruction in their wake.
Chandrika adjusted her glasses.
Adrian looked toward the sky.
Neither spoke for several seconds.
Eventually she broke first.
"...That keeps happening."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I blame Ryan."
"That man somehow isn’t even here."
"He works through intermediaries."
She laughed.
Unfortunately, that explanation made perfect sense.
The roads became quieter as they moved deeper into the residential district.
This part of Basa had once been little more than unused military housing and abandoned administrative buildings. Now lights filled nearly every window while gardens occupied empty spaces between homes.
Someone had planted flowers along the sidewalks.
Someone else had painted murals across old concrete walls.
Life had a habit of reclaiming places.
"Did you ever think this would happen?" Chandrika asked.
"What part?"
She gestured around them.
"Any of it."
"The city."
"The people."
"The rebuilding."
Adrian thought about the question.
Honestly thought about it.
"No."
She looked toward him.
"Never?"
"When the outbreak started, survival was the goal."
He smiled faintly.
"Surviving next week was ambitious planning."
She understood.
Back then, nobody planned for years.
People planned for mornings.
For food supplies.
For ammunition counts.
For another sunrise.
The idea of schools, restaurants, and evening walks would have sounded ridiculous.
Yet here they were.
The city square came into view ahead of them.
Unlike earlier, it was crowded now.
Food stalls lined the streets while civilians and soldiers occupied nearly every table beneath strings of lights hanging overhead. The smell of grilled meat and fresh bread drifted through the evening air while merchants argued loudly over prices.
The apocalypse had apparently failed to destroy bargaining.
Chandrika slowed.
"Can we stop here for a bit?"
Adrian looked surprised.
"You want dinner?"
"I want dessert."
That somehow caught him more off guard.
"Dessert?"
"Yes."
"You know we live in the apocalypse."
She pointed toward a nearby stall.
A hand-painted sign hung above it.
ICE CREAM.
Adrian stared.
"...How?"
"Apparently one of the engineers rebuilt refrigeration equipment."
"Of course they did."
Engineers truly were terrifying people.
Five minutes later they sat beneath a small canopy holding bowls of vanilla ice cream that had somehow survived the collapse of civilization.
Chandrika looked genuinely happy.
"You have no idea how much I missed this."
Adrian took another bite.
"...Okay, this is actually incredible."
"I know."
"I hate how good this is."
She laughed.
A comfortable silence settled between them again.
The city moved around them.
People talked.
Children ran through the square.
Somewhere nearby, somebody attempted karaoke with heroic levels of confidence and catastrophic levels of skill.
Chandrika smiled.
"That guy is terrible."
"He really is."
"Should someone stop him?"
"No."
"Why not?"
Adrian looked toward the crowd gathered around the singer.
Because despite the awful performance, people were laughing.
Smiling.
Living.
"Because I think everyone’s enjoying themselves too much."
She followed his gaze.
Then nodded.
"Fair enough."
A few minutes later, the music changed.
Slower this time.
Softer.
Several couples near the center of the square started dancing.
Not formally.
Not professionally.
Just people enjoying an ordinary evening.
Chandrika watched quietly.
Then looked away.
Adrian noticed.
Neither mentioned it.
That probably would have been the end of it.
Unfortunately, fate had allies.
Specifically Ryan.
The pilot appeared carrying coffee.
Again.
Adrian had stopped questioning where he came from.
Or how.
Ryan stopped beside the table.
Looked toward the dancers.
Looked toward Adrian.
Looked toward Chandrika.
His expression immediately became unbearable.
"Oh."
"No."
"I didn’t say anything."
"You were about to."
Ryan looked wounded.
"I merely came here to enjoy the atmosphere."
"You came here to cause problems."
"Also true."
He looked toward the dance floor.
Then back toward Adrian.
"Interesting opportunity though."
Adrian closed his eyes.
"Ryan."
"What?"
"Leave."
The pilot looked toward Chandrika.
"He’s no fun."
She was trying very hard not to laugh.
It wasn’t working.
Ryan eventually retreated, though not before giving Adrian a look that promised future suffering.
The man truly was a menace.
The music continued.
The dancers continued.
The city continued.
After several minutes, Chandrika spoke quietly.
"I never learned."
Adrian looked toward her.
"What?"
"Dancing."
"My parents kept trying to get me to learn."
She smiled faintly.
"I always said no."
"Regrets?"
"Maybe a little."
He considered that.
Then stood.
She looked up.
"What are you doing?"
"Fixing the problem."
Her eyes widened immediately.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because absolutely not."
"You said you regretted it."
"That doesn’t mean this."
She looked genuinely alarmed now.
"We’ll both look ridiculous."
"Probably."
"Definitely."
"Still worth trying."
She stared at him.
He stared back.
Eventually she sighed.
"...I blame Ryan for this."
"That’s fair."
A few moments later they stood near the edge of the square while the music continued around them.
Neither of them actually knew what they were doing.
This became obvious almost immediately.
"You stepped on my foot."
"You moved unexpectedly."
"I was standing still."
"Debatable."
She laughed.
Then almost immediately lost her balance.
Adrian caught her arm before she could stumble.
For a moment, neither moved.
The city seemed quieter somehow.
The music farther away.
Her glasses reflected the lights hanging above the square while a few loose strands of hair moved in the evening breeze.
She looked up.
He looked down.
Then—
"Commander!"
Both turned.
Ryan stood twenty meters away holding a camera.
Of course he had a camera.
"Smile!"
The flash went off.
Adrian considered murder.
Chandrika burst into laughter.
Real laughter.
The kind that left her struggling to breathe afterward.
Ryan fled immediately before retaliation became possible.
Coward.
Strategic coward.
Eventually they returned to walking through the city.
The roads grew quieter as the hour grew later.
Near the residential district where their paths separated, both slowed.
Neither seemed particularly enthusiastic about reaching the destination.
Chandrika adjusted her glasses.
"I had fun today."
Adrian smiled slightly.
"Me too."
A pause followed.
Then another.
Eventually she laughed softly.
"This is the part where normal people say goodnight and leave."
"Probably."
"Neither of us seems very good at normal."
"Also true."
The city lights reflected in her glasses as she smiled.
"Goodnight, Adrian."
The use of his name caught him slightly off guard.
Not Commander.
Not Sir.
Just Adrian.
For some reason, he liked how it sounded.
"Goodnight, Chandrika."
She turned toward her building.
After several steps, she looked back.
He was still standing there.
Watching.
She smiled once before disappearing inside.
Several seconds later Adrian finally started walking toward headquarters.
He never noticed Ryan standing on a nearby balcony with binoculars.
The pilot lowered them slowly.
Then nodded to himself.
"Progress."
Somewhere nearby, a mechanic reluctantly handed over another fifty pesos.
Ryan accepted payment with dignity.
And professionalism.
Mostly dignity.