Orion pulls himself towards the light of the opening.

He does not dare look down at the tunnel of fallen crawling and running and snarling towards him.

His hand slips and he begins to fall. Orion's strong hand catches on the side of the door, as body hangs, with his gun in his arm pointing down.

As he looks down, he sees a vile horde right upon his feet.

He opens fires, as the bullets cut through the creatures grabbing for him, and illuminating the dark hallway briefly.

Orion tosses his rifle up into the free air, and with all the strength he can muster, pulls himself up with both hands.

The screams start coming up again.

The soldier runs to find his rope, and looks down the massive ship to where he needs to repel down.

He starts the descent.

His feet bounce off the side of the boat as his hands release more rope. More screams come for him.

Suddenly, his hands accidentally slip and break free.

Orion pauses midair in horror, reaching for the rope that is leaving his hands. His hands grasp for the rope, but it sways away and he falls.

He slams into the water with a huge splash. Orion pulls himself out of the water, gasping as the air is knocked out of his lungs.

He drags his gear and his own body towards his little boat waiting on the patch of land and jumps in. The engine doesn't start. He tries igniting it again. Nothing.

"Come on. Come on."

Suddenly, a new fallen creature leaps out of the ship high into the air, and starts to aim to land towards Orion and his boat.

Orion watches as its flesh moves in the wind, coming down with sharp teeth and jaws and claws for a suicidal impact.

Closer. Closer. Closer.

Orion pulls his pistol and shoots the fallen creature out of the air at the last moment, like shooting a bird, and the enemy falls dead into the water.

The boat's engine then revs, and Orion drives the boat away from the hellish monolithic tomb..

He minimizes his display as low as it can go.

I don't want to see it.

No combat. Barely any survival or knowledge XP by the end of the day.

Never a legend.

The village on top of the water logged island is bustling at night.

All creeds and cultures are seemingly working well together in the post climate catastrophe.

Bright colorful clothes and small huts and new communities seem to be thriving, with the vibe of a non tourist island culture.

Small torches light the way, as generators hum, with small Christmas and tea lights flicking off and on.

Orion walks into the village with his bag from his expedition. Exhausted and worn but alive. Barely dragging his feet.

Howl runs up to him, looking sillier in person than on a broken monitor, and hugs him.

"I'm happy to see you alive, mate!"

"The boat was full of fallen. Full," Orion is not amused.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Well, their island is over there, Orion. Hell," Howl laughs. "What do you expect?"

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"I haven't made it over there yet," Orion snaps back, angry. "It isn't on my to do list currently."

"Hey. Come on. We're mates. I didn't know they'd be there. Assume? Oh yeah."

Orion shrugs and hands him the bag.

"I'm too tired to be mad," Orion says as Howl starts going through the treasures.

"Good. Because you look mad," Howl says, inspecting the objects.

"I am mad!"

"Then don't say you are too tired to be mad when you are obviously mad," Howl states in a matter of fact tone.

He frowns but then hands Orion a wad of multiple currencies.

"Wait. That is it?!" Orion says, his anger coming back.

"Mate. This stuff is no good. You're lucky. Come on. The Mayor's address. Next time, we will send a whole squad with you, you big baby," Howl says, putting his arm around Orion.

Orion stares at the wad of cash and shakes his head.

"All of that for this," he says out loud to himself.

Howl just keeps leading him along.

The small community center looks like it is an old basketball court and gym, but with trees broken through, with a constant rebuilding and breaking down of the walls and foundation.

Small chairs and tables are around, but many people sit on the ground.

A beautiful COW is in the corner of the room, tied up.

People point and stare and talk about it. Some pet and hug the creature and say a blessing over it.

Children chuckle and moo back at the cow.

The Mayor walks in. A common island man.

"Hello. Welcome to everyone. A beautiful cow, yes?" The Mayor smiles.

He then breaks into a few sentences of another tongue to those who don't speak the old world English. Old world as before the apocalypse.

Eventually, everyone is caught up and nods and smiles.

The Mayor looks at the cow again.

"First in a very long time. Before we get to the lottery of it, I would like to thank everyone for your patience during the ration season. Sometimes the fish is bountiful. Other times, it is like there is none in the sea. But our fruit harvests have been a little bit more successful, yes?"

A few more lines of translation. All agree and nod and clap.

Orion and Howl stand in the back, leaning against a broken wall.

"Damn palm tree is in my ass," Howl says, kicking the tree.

"Don't blame the tree. Blame the idiot standing there," Orion says, in a matter of fact, sarcastic tone.

"Bah," Howl replies.

Trix waves at Orion.

He waves back.

Trix then pats her mother sitting next to her.

Isla is a striking, beautiful island woman. A little older than Orion, but none would know it nor care. Like an island goddess or queen.

She nods a hello to Orion.

He nods back.

Something is there.

Or something was there before.