4338.209 · July 28, 2018 AD
The Elephant That Eats You First
Joel's mother taught him how to get through impossible things. One bite at a time. One step at a time. He's trying. He's really trying. But his legs have stopped working, the camp has vanished into darkness, something called Panthers are hunting them through the dust, and the man dragging him toward shelter is the same man who ordered his throat cut. Some elephants bite back.
The camp is gone.
Not destroyed—just erased by distance and dust and the simple mathematics of a body that can't keep up. Joel watches the last trace of firelight vanish behind him and understands that no one is coming. Jamie won't find him. Glenda won't stitch him back together. He's alone with the man who killed him, stumbling through darkness toward something worse.
The growls come from everywhere and nowhere. Nelson calls them Panthers. Doesn't explain what that means. Doesn't explain anything. Just keeps dragging Joel forward, one brutal step at a time, until Joel's legs give out completely and he has to choose between crawling and dying.
The hideout is cold stone and stolen blankets and questions that go unanswered. Nelson gives him water. Gives him a name. Gives him nothing else—no reason for the mercy, no explanation for the kidnapping, no answer to the only question that matters.
Why am I still alive?
Joel's value is conditional. His survival depends on remaining useful. And he has no idea what useful means to a man like Nelson Price.
