Rushing back down the dune, I gathered my gear with a sense of urgency. Every second counted now; I was close to the green valley, to potential salvation, but first, I needed sustenance. Climbing back up to the vulture, I began the grim task of cleaning it. Survival in this world required doing things I never would have imagined before, and yet, it had become almost second nature. By the time I reached the tree line of the green oasis, the bird was fully prepared, stripped of its feathers. Starting a fire was an essential skill I had honed over time, and soon enough, I had a small flame flickering in the growing dusk. I carefully cleaned the guts, deciding to make use of every part of the bird. In my current state, nothing could be wasted. I cooked them first, eating them without any hesitation. Hunger overpowered any squeamishness I might have had.
As the meat cooked, the aroma filled the air, and I found myself salivating in anticipation. It had been so long since I had a decent meal, and the prospect of eating something substantial was overwhelming. Once I had finished eating, feeling somewhat satiated for the first time in days, I turned my attention to the radio. Setting up the little satellite, I prepared to send out another message. It was a ritual that had become a part of my survival, a way to connect with a world that I was no longer a part of. Even if there was no one on the other end to hear my words, the act of speaking them was a reminder that I was still here, still fighting. The green valley was a sign that life could continue, that survival was possible. It was a stark contrast to the desolation I had traversed, a reminder that even in the harshest of environments, there were pockets of life. As I sat by the fire, the warmth and light a small comfort in the vast wilderness, I felt a renewed sense of hope. This moment, with a full stomach and the greenery of the valley around me, was a small victory in the ongoing struggle for survival. It was a testament to my resilience, my adaptability, and my will to keep going, no matter what.
As I sat there, the flickering flames casting a warm glow in the growing darkness, I felt a sense of contemplation wash over me. The radio crackled softly in the background, a silent witness to my musings. "You know, I used to think that life was about more than just surviving," I started, my voice carrying a weight of realization. "But I'm not so sure anymore."
In this new world, survival had taken on a primal significance. It was a daily, unrelenting challenge, stripping away the complexities of morality and philosophy, reducing existence to its most basic elements. "Animals don't feel guilty when they kill. So why should I?" I pondered aloud, the question hanging in the air like smoke. In the wild, life was straightforward – kill or be killed. But as a human, the layers of emotion, of conscience, complicated things.
"They just do it. They kill, or they get killed." I continued, my thoughts meandering through the maze of survival. Every life I had taken weighed on me, each a decision made in the heat of the moment, a choice between life and death. "I tell myself that every life I took was for a reason. But the truth is, the other side had reasons, too."
The Grounders, the Mountain Men, ALIE – each had their own motivations, their own justifications. Our conflicts were a cycle of violence, each side propelled by the same basic instinct – survival. "It was us or them. Kill or be killed. Simple as that."
But now, in the solitude of the desert, with the threat of immediate danger diminished, I faced a new kind of challenge. "So what now? What becomes of the Commander of Death when there's no one left to kill?" It was a question that loomed large in my mind, a quandary about identity and purpose in a world that had been irrevocably altered.
"I guess we'll find out, because my fight is over." It was a statement of both resignation and relief. The battles I had fought, the lives I had taken, they were behind me now. The struggle for survival remained, but the nature of that struggle had changed.
YOU ARE READING
The Garden of Eden (Silent Moments Series: Book 5)
FanfictionKegan Foster sacrificed everything to save his family. Half of them were in space. The other half under ground. Now it was just him. Who was Kegan when he was by himself? I guess it'll take the end of the world for him to find out.