Doug heard gunshots somewhere in the distance. His heart pounded against his chest, and sweat poured off of his brow as he listened intently to hear if they came closer. He held onto his sawed-off shotgun tightly, squeezing it tighter and harder as the sounds grew louder.

I should have brought my pistol too. How am I supposed to defend myself with only this stupid gun?!

Suddenly, another set of shots rang out, followed closely by the sound of breaking glass. Someone must be trying to break into one of the houses nearby!

With a quick glance around, Doug spotted a group of four men walking toward him. Two of them carried assault rifles slung across their backs, while the other pair wielded crowbars and baseball bats. Their faces were obscured by balaclavas, hiding their identities from sight.

These guys aren't looking to trade goods. They're here to loot and pillage. And judging by their appearance, I think they mean business.

Doug stood up slowly and turned towards them. "Whoa," said the leader, pointing his rifle at Doug's head. "You ain't going nowhere."

"Relax feller, we just wanna talk!" said the second guy, raising his free hand in surrender while still clutching tight to the bat.

Doug sighed but refused to lower his weapon. "Okay. Talk. What do you want?"

The two men exchanged glances, clearly unsure what to say. Finally, the leader cleared his throat awkwardly.

"We, uh..."

Doug rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, okay. Whatever. Just keep walking."

One of the thugs grunted, gesturing for his comrades to follow him. As they passed by, Doug glanced briefly at them and noticed they wore identical outfits: black hoods pulled tight over their heads; balaclavas covering their faces completely except for narrow slits for their mouths and noses; matching grey turtlenecks concealing their chests beneath a wide leather belt holding a revolver, knife, and machete.

Doug hadn't seen anyone wearing similar garb before. Maybe they're members of some kind of gang?

Or cultists...?

Either way, they looked mighty suspicious. After following behind the group for several minutes, Doug decided to take action.

This is insane. I can't let them walk away without doing something!

Before he knew what he was saying, he shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Hey! Stop!"

All four of the men stopped dead in their tracks and spun around to stare at him with startled expressions. Before they could react further, Doug ran forward and grabbed one of them by the collar of his turtleneck.

The thug struggled weakly, but Doug clamped his hand around the man's neck and lifted him high overhead. With one swift motion, he swung the guy around and slammed him into the ground, pinning him to the dirt.

Then, as quickly as he started, Doug released his grip on the man and stepped away. For a brief moment, nobody said anything. Then, the leader broke the silence.

"Listen mister. We don't want any trouble..."

Doug pointed his shotgun directly at the man's forehead. "Don't move."

There was a pause, then the leader nodded once and slowly removed his balaclava. A young, handsome face stared back at him, framed by short blond hair and blue eyes.

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That's when Doug recognized him.

OMG...

Doug had seen him before. Back before the Rapture, he had crossed paths with this kid dozens of times. Every day, he would encounter him on his morning commute to school, standing alongside the road, staring blankly ahead and waiting patiently for a ride home.

His name was Brian. He lived in the same neighborhood as Doug, and he rode his bike everywhere because he was only 15 and not old enough to get a drivers license yet. Although Doug never talked to him during those early days, he felt drawn to him nonetheless. Something about the boy struck a chord deep within him.

"Brian?!" Doug stammered, "What are you doing?"

"Wait..." the injured teenager scrambled back to his feet and stared at Brian, "You know this guy?"

"Yeah..." he sheepishly nodded, "He's friends with my mom. Or at least, he was before... before she..."

Doug understood immediately. Brian's parents were likely gone. Taken by the blue lightning bolts like millions of others, no doubt. All that remained of the boy now was a shell of a human being, clinging desperately to hope despite all evidence to suggest otherwise.

A lump formed in Doug's throat. He wanted to reach out to him, offer words of comfort, but he couldn't bring himself to speak. Instead, he simply stared at the broken youth as the boy's eyes reddened as he fought back the urge to cry.

After a minute of awkward silence, Brian finally gathered his courage and asked, "Why'd ya stop us?"

Doug shrugged uncomfortably. "I thought you were a bunch of gangsters here in town to cause trouble."

Brian shook his head. "Nah man. These guys are good dudes. I promise. They helped me out yesterday, gave me shelter, food, water... stuff like that."

Doug squinted suspiciously. "So what was with all the gunshots back there?"

"Oh, that. Yeah," Brian laughed nervously. "It was nothing really. We were just messing around."

Doug considered the situation carefully. There wasn't much more he could learn about these kids unless they told him themselves. So instead of arguing further, he lowered his shotgun slightly.

"Well, I guess I'll let you go."

"Really? Thank you man!" Brian grinned happily, "I appreciate it!"

"No problem," Doug replied, "Now scram. No hard feelings."

He watched as the boys sprinted off towards the nearest intersection before returning his attention to the street below. Several blocks away, he spied Lisa approaching him cautiously from the opposite direction. She was carrying a large duffel bag full of canned foods, bottled water, and various medical supplies.

Lisa approached him warily, glancing back at the direction the boys had gone. "Hello Doug."

Doug smiled warmly at her. "Hi Lisa. You look well."

She nodded and handed him the heavy sack. "Thanks."

They walked along silently for a few moments until Doug spoke up. "How did things turn out for your friend?"

Lisa grimaced sadly. "Not so great. Turns out he was lying to us all this time."

Doug frowned. "About what?"

"Everything."

Doug furrowed his brow. "What happened?"

Lisa paused, uncertain how best to explain herself. Eventually, she opted for honesty. "I've come to realize that I'm not cut out for this whole 'surviving' thing. I'm too trusting."

Doug winced sympathetically. "Did he abscond with the food supply?"

"No." She shook her head. "I mean, we have plenty of food stored away in our pantry, but that's not why I feel this way. This isn't right, Doug."

"What do you mean?"

Lisa leaned against the wall next to him and rested her hands on her hips. "Look at this place, Doug. Look at it! How can anybody live like this?"

Doug followed her gaze and saw the streets littered with piles of debris left by looters after the Rapture. Trash and abandoned cars lined every block, creating obstacles for anyone trying to travel anywhere beyond their immediate vicinity.

And though the sun shone brightly overhead, the air was thick with humidity and sweat. The few people who dared to venture outside moved slowly, avoiding eye contact with each other lest they be targeted by predators lurking nearby.

"People will adapt, Lisa."

Lisa turned and glared angrily at him. "Will they?! If this keeps going on, we might end up like those kids back there!"

Doug held his hands up defensively. "Woah woah wait, hold on. What are you talking about? Those aren't bad kids. They just looked intimidating."

"Of course they aren't," she sighed, "but if they're willing to open fire in broad daylight, what else could they be capable of?"

Doug scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I dunno, I think most of the violence has died down since the Rapture. That doesn't mean it won't happen again, but at least now the odds of random strangers shooting you on sight seem slim. And besides, we've got guns ourselves."

Lisa scoffed. "Do you? Have you ever fired one?"

"Sure. Lots of times actually."

Lisa raised her eyebrows skeptically. "I don't mean in a game."

She clearly doesn’t know anything about me. But I’m not about to reveal that I’m a former cop. That’ll just make me a target.

Doug rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

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