The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 189

There was no medical kit. No fuel stove. No food.

Diego stumbled out of the tent and squatted next to the meager pile of salvaged gear, sifting through it piece by piece.

He checked once, then checked again.

"Is this it?" His voice was a fragile whisper, laced with utter disbelief. "This... this is all that's left?"

Josh said nothing. He neatly folded the ruined sleeping bag, rolled up the torn mat, shoved the single glove into his pocket, and headed back into the tent. Diego followed silently behind him.

"Is this all we have left?" Professor Harrison walked over, his brow furrowing deeply at the pathetic pile of supplies in Josh's hands.

Josh dumped everything from his backpack onto the floor.

A few packs of survival biscuits, two chocolate bars, and a small bag of beef jerky. He lined them up, counted them, and spoke quietly. "If we ration this perfectly... it's enough for maybe two days."

"What about fuel?"

"...Gone."

"Thermal gear?"

"We have one tent, two sleeping bags, and the two blankets Sloane and I packed..."

Professor Harrison stared at the miserable pile of supplies and fell silent.

Diego, still squatting nearby, suddenly let out a dry, hollow laugh that sounded more like a sob.

"No food, no fire, no sleeping bags... Professor, when you talked about hitting absolute human limits... is this what you meant?"

Sloane stepped forward and gently tugged at Diego's sleeve, her own face etched with quiet despair.

"How far to The White Lake?" Professor Harrison asked.

Josh pulled out the GPS monitor. "Thirty-one miles. According to the original schedule, that's a three-day march. But if we push ourselves... we can do it in two."

"I can't push myself! I physically can't do it!" Diego's voice cracked, tears finally brimming in his eyes. "I don't even have the strength to stand up anymore!"

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