"The battery itself has been used a few times already," Whynn explained. She carefully tilted Layla's phone until the screen lit up, to check the percentage. "It'll give you maybe fifteen percent. So you're going to have to work quickly and call someone to get us out of here,"

"Got it," Layla nodded shakily. Her bad attitude gradually deteriorated when she realized that she would be the person in charge of finding the way out. It was still there, certainly, just suppressed under stress and nerves.

None of them were completely sure how well this would work. But each of them was positive that this could very well be their last shot at survival.

"Listen," Terrence touched Layla's hand, to catch her attention. "There's going to be a lot of stuff on here. It's been dead for a while, and well, the world just ended," he explained slowly.

"Just try not to get distracted, okay?" Whynn added. "We'll charge it again when we get out of here. If anything I'll get another battery and we'll use this again. But you have to stay focused,"

"Okay," Layla took a deep breath. Her hands shook, despite being pressed firmly against the tabletop, but she still nodded vigorously. So this is what it feels like to be Griffin.

The rest of them stood, crowded against the far wall, absolutely dumbfounded by what they were seeing.

"Is this scaring anyone else?" Eric asked, with wide eyes.

Griffin raised a shaky hand. "I can't believe they're a-actually having a civilized c-conversation,"

"I can't believe that they're so close together, and someone has yet to yell 'Go for the jugular'," Adam stated, mildly amused.

Griffin burst out laughing, followed by one of Eric's own. That warmed the fidgety teen's spirit. They could at least share a laugh, maybe things were turning out all right.

"Will you guys shut up?" Layla snapped.

Warm feeling gone.

She turned back to Eysjah and gestured at the makeshift charger. "How do I check and see if someone can help us in time? Or even see if anyone is still alive?"

"I would check social media," Adam informed her. She crossed the room and sat down at the opposite end of the table. "First check if there's anyone online. Then decide which of those people would be the most likely to have a chance to help us,"

"That's a good idea," Layla nodded. Then she glanced at her phone, afraid to touch it during the charging process. "Do you think it's ready yet?"

Whynn delicately lifted the device and checked the percentage. "Seventeen, that's probably the best we're going to get. This is our last chance. Remember: don't get distracted,"

She set the phone down in front of Layla and gave her best attempt at a reassuring smile.

Layla took a deep, shaky, breath. "Here goes nothing,"

"Actually. Here goes e-everything,"

Everyone turned to stare at Griffin.

"No p-pressure," he whispered, awkwardly avoiding eye contact.

She unplugged the phone, and everyone in the room suddenly forgot to breathe. Layla quickly typed in her password.

The phone buzzed.

"Dammit," she huffed in frustration.

"What was that?" Terrence asked, his voice catching in his throat.

"I forgot my password,"

"How did you forget your password?" Whynn demanded. "You made the damn thing!"

"I knew it by muscle memory, and haven't used my phone in a month and a half!" Layla cried. "Cut me some slack,"

"474346," Adam informed her, waving his hands urgently for her to type it in.

"Why do you-"

"Explanations can wait!" Whynn snapped. "Move it! We don't have much time!"

"Right, sorry,"

Layla poked the password into the phone, and the screen immediately illuminated her, dirt-streaked, face. Buzz after buzz of delayed notifications shook the device frantically, making Layla feel as if she was holding Griffin's hand.

"W-w-well?" Griffin prompted, making a move to peer over her shoulder.

"Bro," Eric lurched forwards, knocking the scrawnier teen sideways as he stared at the screen. "She's got eighty thousand messages,"

Layla swallowed hard. What if they were all pleas for help? She wasn't sure she had the heart to look at them.

"They can wait, just-" Whynn started, but Eric cut her off.

"No, I'm not kidding. Eighty thousand, seven hundred, twenty-nine messages. It says so right there," he pointed. "And they're all from those spam numbers,"

"We don't have time to go through eighty thousand texts," Terrence reminded them.

But it was too late, Layla had already mustered the courage to click open messages. Eric swallowed hard, both afraid to look, and afraid not to.

"They all say the same thing," she mumbled, surprised.

"What?" Adam raised an eyebrow.

"Instagram," Eric read aloud. "Eden Instagram. Check Insta. Eden on Instagram. Find Eden,"

"Who the hell is Eden?" Whynn demanded.

"Why don't w-we check and f-find out?" Griffin demanded, smacking Layla's shoulder. "Do I have to do a-all the thinking for everyone around h-h-here?"

Layla rolled her eyes and clicked Instagram open. A few seconds later, she noticed her feed had completely changed since she'd last used her cellphone. Instead of cats, inspirational quotes, and underwear models, it was one hundred percent pictures of buildings.

"There's a bunch of new posts here," she announced, swiping rapidly through the posts as she related them to the room. "The Knoxville Unit. The Madison Unit. Orlando Unit. Denver. NYC-"

"Eden isn't a person," Terence clapped excitedly. "Edens are places!"

"And her wilderness He will make like Eden. And her desert like the garden of the Lord. Joy and gladness will be found in her," Adam quoted under his breath. Then he smiled, almost proud of what they'd all accomplished. "Hideaways for the last of the human race. And we used social media to spread the word before we lose the technology for good,"

"Are there a-any near Seattle?" Griffin demanded eagerly. "Who's closest to us?"

"Eight percent left!" Whynn cried, directing all of their attention to the battery power. "Forget who's closest, just message one! Give them the address,"

"Your battery sucks!" Eric yelled.

"It was a birthday present, alright?" Layla snapped. "Now shut up and let me type!"

Layla quickly poked the nearest post to her finger and typed in SOS 6 trpd.

"What's the address?" She demanded.

"4121 Lincoln Hill,"

She punched it in and clicked send. Barely had she taken a breath, then a reply popped up.

How urgent?

"Tell them three days and see if they'll hurry their asses up," Whynn instructed.

3dys. Layla responded.

Situation?

"Situation, guys?" Layla asked. She felt like they were attempting to build a dating profile on a twenty-second timer, rather than pleading for survival.

"Urgent," Eric said. "No food. Surrounded. And they'll be coming through soon,"

"Wait what?"

"Just type it!"

Layla typed as fast as she could, leaving out as many vowels as possible. But before she clicked send, the screen powered down.

There was a long silence, where nobody was sure what to say. Then Eric smacked the table. "Dammit!"

"Not dammit!" Terrence hooted. "This is it! We're getting out of here. We did it!"

The group leaped out of their seats and cheered quietly. High fives were spread around, and smiles were on everyone. Even Eric gave Griffin a fist bump, and Whynn gave Terrence a peck on the cheek.

Adam leaned back and smiled. He loosened the grip that he'd subconsciously been strangling his knife with and closed his eyes.

So this is a team...

***

"You're completely qualified, Mr. Edison!" Surif cried, banging his fist against the table. "You were the very first idealist of Edens. You've already run one before, and you made the goddamn place!"

It was incredible that Surif, a tall, dark, mountain of a man, was referring to this guy as "Mr." anything. At 28 years old, Surif was the oldest person in the Huntsville Unit. Yet he was demanding that control be taken by a boy who had yet to celebrate his 21st birthday.

Max Edison glanced up from the tabletop and looked Surif square in the eyes. "This is my Eden, but not my people. Just because the world has gone to Hell, doesn't mean we should go with it. Everyone has a right to decide what they want to come next. We'll hold an election, just like we did before the apocalypse,"

Across the room, a woman leaped to her feet in objection. "And until then we let a prison full of teenagers run wild?"

"Until then, the rules and regulations in place will have to be enough," Max replied. "Look, Vanessa, if we decide their leader for them, nobody will listen. They have to choose for themselves,"

"They'll tear this place apart," she retorted. "And probably each other too!"

"Then I suggest we start getting a campaign together bef-"

The phone in the middle of the table vibrated, and the room froze. The device had stayed silent for nearly a week now, due to a patchy connection from the internet going down, and as more and more survivors became... less and less.

"Just a second," Max lifted the device and scanned the screen.

OhLayWar529 commented on your post.

He clicked the notification and waited for the screen to load. The room around him remained deathly silent.

SOS 6 trpd.

"We've got a line," Max leaped up, fast enough that he kicked his seat over on its back. He pointed at Surif. "Tell Jon to get ready!"

Surif leaped from his seat and tore out of the room. Max began typing back a reply as an address came through.

4121 Lincoln Hill, Seattle

How urgent? He wanted to know.

3dys

"What's their situation, Max?" Vanessa demanded.

"They're typing," Max informed her. He waited a minute, but then the signal disappeared. "We lost them,"

"What happened?" Someone asked.

"It could be that they lost signal, or the internet went down again. Or it could be something much worse," Max replied evenly. "Whatever it is, we've got a job to do,"

"Where are they?" The man beside him inquired.

"Seattle,"

"Seattle? We can't go up there!" Vanessa gaped. "That's in Washington. We're in Texas,"

"Thank you, Vanessa, I know where we are," Max nodded, swallowing most of his sarcasm.

Surif leaped back into the room, another teenager on his heels. "Jon says he's ready when you are, Mr. Edison!" He informed him. "And here's Charlie,"

"Max," Charlie rushed forwards. There was a light in his eye. A rare light these days, or even before the world ended. A belief. In hope, and miracles. Something incredibly valuable in the Eden's chief doctor. "What's going on?"

Max smiled at his redheaded friend. "Charlie, get your medicine kit. We've got a line,"

Charlie grinned. "Really? A live one? It's been two weeks!"

"Exactly. If six guys can survive this long on their own," he caught Vanessa's eye. "it should be our responsibility as people, to help them out any way we can,"

Vanessa flushed in embarrassment and sat back down.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Charlie grinned, completely oblivious to the shot taken at his coworker. He saluted the group and tore out the door.

"Anyone want to go on a helicopter ride?" Max asked the room.

Dead silence.

"I thought so," he nodded grimly. "Set up an election while I'm gone. And don't worry about what might have happened if you'd been brave enough to come along," he took his thick, green, coat off of the doorknob, and slid it over his shoulders.

"Mr. Edis-" Surif began.

"Save your breath," Max snapped, turning to go. "I'm busy risking mine,"

***

"Maybe they're n-n-not coming," Griffin whimpered quietly.

"It's only been a day," Whynn reminded him, sitting next to Terrence on the floor. "And we told them three,"

Layla was nowhere to be seen, as she had decided to take a nap on the "real bed". And both Eric and Adam stood watch by the window.

"We might want to get Layla down here," Eric suggested. "So that, if they do come, we'll all be in one spot,"

Adam nodded. "Go for it,"

Eric glanced at Adam, then angled his head back to where Whynn was leaning against Terrence's chest. "Actually uh, I'm helping lookout. Terrence can go,"

"It's fine, I can mana- ow!" Adam yanked his arm away from Eric's pointy nails.

"Sure, no problem," Terrence smiled, completely oblivious to the ulterior motives of his absence. He pushed himself off the ground, and used the wall for support, as he passed through the barrier.

He hobbled down the hall, and put a majority of his weight on the wiggly railing, as he mounted the stairs. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and shivered. "Damn. Winter sure is coming fast,"

Terrence stopped at the top of the landing and breathed into his hands. Things were getting colder by the second. He hoped everyone downstairs was feeling this and starting a fire, or else it wouldn't be food or zombies that took them out.

He took a step into the master bedroom and glanced around.

Crunch

Confused, Terrence looked down. The carpet beneath his feet was covered in a thin layer of ice. It lined the walls, and frost covered Layla and the mattress.

He knew she was still alive from the sight of her breath. And somehow, the only part of the room unaltered was the window.

Terrence glanced outside and saw the world covered in snow, but the sun was bright. It looked warmer outside than in.

"What the hell?" He muttered. Terrence stepped over to Layla and shook her awake. "Layla. What the hell is going on?"

She rolled over and rubbed her face. Then she rubbed her face again. And again. "Is this... frost?"

"I don't know. It just got really cold all of the sudden," Terrence told her. "But look at the win-" he glanced back at the window and screamed.

There was the shadow of a woman, glaring through the second-story window right at them.

Terrence grabbed Layla from the bed and tossed her towards the door. Then dove after her, as the figure bulleted past him, and dematerialized.

"What the hell was that?"

"Oh my god!" Layla screamed enthusiastically. "A spirit!"

"Why are you clapping?" Terrence demanded. "We have to get out of here!"

"I have spirit frost on my face. I'm never showering again,"

"If it's up to her, you wouldn't have to. Now let's go!"

Terrence noticed a shadow growing on the ground beneath Layla and tackled her sideways.

The spirit shot up through the floorboards. And an inhuman scream was followed by a human one, as the spirit blasted through Terrence. He dove to the side, and the phantom went through his good leg.

Layla sprinted towards him and lifted his head off of the ground. "Terrence?"

"I can't move my leg," he grimaced. "I can't feel my knee at all,"

"I-it's okay," she shivered, only half from the cold. "You'll be o-okay,"

"You sound like Griffin," he smiled.

Layla laughed quietly, but the moment was cut short when the phantom materialized at the opposite end of the hall.

"Down the stairs!" Terrence yelled, sending Layla down the stairs by her side, and army crawling down after her.

Thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump

They nearly took out Whynn at the bottom of the stairs, who was on her way up to tell them to quiet down. "Guys! What are you-"

"Inside!" Terrence demanded, but Layla grabbed her arm.

"He can't move, grab his other side!"

Whynn rushed to the rescue, while Adam and Griffin moved a section of the barrier for them to get through.

The scream echoed through all of their ears.

"What the f-" Griffin screamed.

"Go!" Layla dragged Terrence and Whynn through the doorway and shoved them off to the side.

The phantom whistled in like a missile, and crashed through the remainder of the barrier, blasting Layla backward. She crashed into the stove, knocking some of the lit logs out on top of her.

The phantom swooped down onto Layla, then it screamed in agony.

And vanished.