The sky was bruised with the purples and deep blues of dusk by the time Jack, Sam, and Lila came across a two-story building with walls mostly intact. To the casual observer, it might have looked like any of the countless abandoned structures dotting the wasteland. But Jack saw the telltale signs of stability—the way the roof sagged only slightly, the fact that the windows, though cracked, were still intact. It was a small thing, but in a world like this, it meant everything.

“This’ll do for the night,” Jack said, his tone final.

Sam nodded, glancing around. “Better than sleeping under the stars with raiders prowling nearby.”

Inside, the air was thick with dust and the scent of mildew. They found themselves in what had once been an office of some sort. Faded motivational posters lined the walls—phrases like “Teamwork Makes the Dream Work!” still clinging to the remnants of the past. Jack smirked at the irony, wondering what those long-gone workers would think of their office now, a temporary refuge for wanderers in a broken world.

Lila wandered over to a corner of the room, where a small pile of broken toys sat scattered—remnants of a child’s makeshift playroom. She picked up a small, battered teddy bear, its fur matted and torn, and held it close, her expression unreadable.

Jack’s gaze lingered on the bear, a pang of something he couldn’t quite name hitting him unexpectedly. Memories stirred, unbidden—a flash of his own child’s toys, carefully lined up along a bedroom shelf. He shook his head, pushing the thought away, reminding himself not to get sentimental. Attachment was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

“All right,” he said, his voice gruff. “Let’s set up camp and keep it quiet. No need to make ourselves a target.”

----------------------------------------

As the night settled, a hush fell over them. Jack found himself a spot near a window, one that let him keep an eye on the surrounding wasteland. Sam and Lila huddled a few feet away, sharing a blanket that had seen better days. For a while, the only sound was the crackling of a small fire Sam had managed to light, its warm glow flickering against the crumbling walls.

Jack’s gaze drifted to the horizon, where the lights of distant fires flickered, pinpricks of orange and red that hinted at activity elsewhere. Raiders, scavengers, or maybe just other survivors doing their best to get through the night. He’d seen those lights often enough to know they usually didn’t mean safety.

His mind wandered back to the early days, to the chaos and confusion that had swept over everything he’d once known. The world as it was now was a wasteland, yes, but before? It had been no paradise. The end hadn’t been sudden—not exactly. It had come like a creeping sickness, rumors spreading through the news, whispers in darkened rooms, the constant hum of anxiety that built until it reached a breaking point.

“Jack?” Lila’s voice broke into his thoughts, soft and hesitant. She was staring at him, her expression a mixture of curiosity and something else—something close to admiration.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

He grunted, pulling himself back to the present. “What is it, kid?”

“Do you remember… you know, before? What it was like?”

Jack’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. He didn’t like to talk about the past, especially not with people he barely knew. But the girl’s question lingered in the air, hanging between them like a thread too fragile to break. He glanced over at Sam, who was watching him as well, his expression unreadable.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice rough. “I remember enough.”

Lila leaned in, her eyes wide. “What happened? Was it… was it as bad as everyone says?”

Jack chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. “Depends on who you ask. Some people thought the end was a blessing. Things weren’t exactly perfect back then, either. Greed, wars, people tearing each other apart over every little thing… And then came the big stuff—things nobody could fix.”

Sam nodded, a faraway look in his eyes. “I remember hearing about it—some kind of viral outbreak, they said. Or was it a failed experiment? Honestly, don’t know that anyone truly knew what happened. One day, the world just… stopped working.”

“People were looking for a fix,” Jack said, his voice quieter now. “But every fix only made things worse. A virus, they said, but no one ever saw it. Then rumors of something big, some kind of fail-safe they were working on to make things right.” He shook his head. “They didn’t get a chance to try it. Whatever it was, it was too late.”

Lila listened, her expression solemn. “Did you… lose anyone?”

Jack’s gaze hardened, his grip tightening around the handle of his machete. The image of his family flitted through his mind—a wife’s laugh, a child’s small hand in his, moments he’d buried long ago. He pushed the memories down, locking them away as he always did.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said finally. “People come, people go. That’s just how it is.”

Sam gave him a thoughtful look but didn’t press. They all had things they didn’t talk about, scars they didn’t show. In a way, Jack respected that about him; Sam knew better than to pry where he wasn’t welcome.

But Lila, she wasn’t finished. She looked at him with something close to defiance, as if challenging him. “You don’t think there’s anything good left? Not even… hope?”

Jack scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips. “Hope? That’s a word I stopped using a long time ago. Hope doesn’t get you through the night. Skill does. Caution. Luck. Hope’s just a fancy word for wishful thinking.”

For a moment, silence fell between them, broken only by the distant rumble of what sounded like an engine—a convoy, perhaps, moving somewhere beyond the hills. Jack tensed, listening, his senses on high alert.

“Sounds like they’re coming closer,” Sam muttered, glancing out the window.

Jack nodded, rising to his feet. “We’ll be safe here as long as we stay quiet. If they’re just passing through, they won’t know we’re here.”

But as he stood there, listening to the rumbling fade into the distance, his mind drifted back once more to that last day. The memory of a siren blaring, the cold sweat that had coated his skin as he ran through the streets, clutching his family’s hands. He remembered their voices, their fear, and then—nothing. The silence that had followed, stretching into eternity.

He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. Attachment was a weakness, he reminded himself. A distraction. And distractions got you killed.

The rumbling finally died away, leaving only the silence of the wasteland around them. Jack opened his eyes, his face hard once more.

“Get some sleep,” he said, his voice gruff. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover tomorrow.”

Lila glanced at him, her expression softer now, almost sympathetic. But Jack turned away, resuming his post by the window. He didn’t need sympathy, didn’t need anyone. He’d learned that the hard way.

Outside, the wasteland stretched out in darkness, vast and indifferent. Jack sat alone, staring into the night, his thoughts a murky blend of memory and regret. The past was a ghost he couldn’t outrun, but as long as he kept moving, maybe he could keep it at bay.

For one more night, at least.