Final Days

May 2027

Day 150
The storm hit us last night. It came out of nowhere—violent winds, torrential rain, and waves crashing against the boat.
I did my best to keep us afloat, but the boat was battered. We drifted off course and ended up on a beach near Seattle, Washington.
The boat is barely functional now. We're stranded, and the storm has left us soaked and exhausted. I'm grateful we made it to shore, but we're not out of danger.
Day 151
We managed to salvage what we could from the boat and made our way up the beach. The storm left a mess, and the landscape is strewn with debris.
I'm searching for shelter and trying to get a signal on the radio. The weather is still unpredictable, and we need to find a place to regroup.
We came across an abandoned beach house. It's not much, but it offers some protection from the elements. Sadie and I are taking refuge there.
Day 152
While searching the beach house, we found a man. He was disheveled and looked like he'd been through hell. He seemed relieved to see us.
We exchanged stories. He told us that Hawaii had an infected person on the island. The infection spread rapidly, and the islands are no longer safe.
The news is crushing. The last hope we had for safety is gone. We're left with no clear options, and the reality of our situation is sinking in.
Day 153
The man shared what he knew about the situation in Hawaii. The infected person turned out to be a carrier, and the infection spread to the isolated island community.
We're both devastated by the news. The islands were supposed to be our refuge, but now it seems we're trapped in this hellish nightmare.
The man is joining us. We need to find a new plan. There's no sense in heading to Hawaii anymore, and we're left with few options.
Day 154
The man's name is Derek. He's been scavenging and surviving on his own for weeks. His knowledge of the current situation might be useful.
We're planning to stay at the beach house for now. It offers some protection and a place to regroup. I'm trying to stay focused and figure out our next move.
The storm has passed, but the uncertainty of our situation remains. The news about Hawaii has shaken us, and we need to adapt quickly.
Day 155
Derek and I scouted the area today, looking for supplies and better shelter. The beach house is holding up, but we need more resources to stay safe.
The reality of our situation is harsh. The infection spreading to Hawaii means there's no clear sanctuary left. We're on our own, and survival is our only priority.
Sadie is adjusting to Derek's presence. She's cautious but accepting of the new addition. We're all in this together, trying to navigate a world that's turned into chaos.
Day 156
We're preparing for the next phase. Derek has some knowledge of the area and is helping us find more supplies. We're planning to venture into Seattle to look for resources.
The city is a daunting place, filled with potential dangers. We need to be cautious and smart about our approach. Our survival depends on how well we adapt to the new threats.
Sadie and I are managing, though the weight of the situation is heavy. The loss of the islands as a refuge is a significant blow, but we're pushing forward with determination.

Day 157
We decided to push into Seattle. Derek knew the city well, and we needed more supplies if we were going to survive. The Pacific Science Center was our target.
The streets were eerily quiet as we made our way in. Seattle, once bustling with life, now felt like a ghost town—just shadows and echoes of what used to be.
Sadie stayed close, her instincts sharp. Derek led the way, and we kept our eyes peeled for any sign of trouble. The Science Center was up ahead, looking more intact than I expected.
Day 158
We reached the Pacific Science Center and found the doors surprisingly secure. It looked untouched from the outside, almost like a fortress amid the ruins.
After some effort, we managed to get inside. The place was dark, with only slivers of light filtering through the boarded-up windows. It felt abandoned, but there was a sense that we weren't alone.
As we moved deeper into the building, we heard the faint sounds of movement. Cautious, we called out, and after a tense moment, a small group emerged from the shadows.
There were five of them—four adults and a teenage girl. They looked rough, worn down by the world outside. But there was a glimmer of hope in their eyes as they saw us.
Day 159
The group was wary at first, but after some conversation, they let us join them. They'd been holed up here for weeks, scavenging what they could from the city.
Their leader, a woman named Rachel, explained that they'd fortified the Science Center as best they could. It was one of the few places in the city that hadn't been overrun.
They shared their food and supplies with us. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep us going. We were grateful for the temporary refuge.
Day 160
We spent the day helping them fortify the Science Center further. Derek and I worked on reinforcing the doors and windows, while Sadie kept watch.
The group had a decent setup here—makeshift beds, a small stockpile of food, and even a working generator for light. It was more than I expected to find.
Rachel told us about the challenges they'd faced. They'd lost people along the way, and they were constantly on edge, fearing an attack. But they were determined to survive, just like us.
Day 161
The group's survival depended on staying hidden and making the most of what little they had. They'd learned to avoid large gatherings of infected by sticking to the shadows.
We shared what we knew about the situation outside—about the storm that brought us here, the infected spreading to Hawaii, and the uncertainty of finding a safe place.
Rachel seemed resigned to staying in the Science Center for the long haul. She believed that leaving the city was too dangerous, and that their best chance was to remain hidden.
Day 162
The teenage girl, Emily, was quiet but observant. She reminded me of someone I used to know before all this—a memory that I can't quite grasp anymore.
She showed me some of the things they'd found in the Science Center. Artifacts of a lost world—science exhibits, old tech, remnants of a time when the world made sense.
We talked about what to do next. Derek wanted to keep moving, to find somewhere more secure, but Rachel was firm in her belief that they were safer here. It was a tough call.
Day 163
We spent another night in the Science Center, surrounded by strange relics of the past. The place had an eerie beauty to it—a monument to human achievement now turned into a sanctuary.
But I couldn't shake the feeling that this was just a temporary respite. The world outside was relentless, and it wouldn't be long before danger found us again.
Derek and I talked late into the night. We knew we couldn't stay here forever. The infected would eventually find their way to the city, and when they did, the Science Center wouldn't hold.
Day 164
We're making plans to leave, though it's a difficult decision. Rachel and her group are torn—some want to stay, others are considering joining us.
The thought of moving on is terrifying, but staying in one place feels like waiting for death. We need to keep moving, to stay ahead of whatever's out there.
Sadie senses the tension in the air. She's restless, as if she knows something's coming. I trust her instincts more than anything right now.
Tomorrow, we decide whether to stay or go.

Day 165
We decided to leave. The rain hadn't let up, turning the streets into rivers of grime and filth. The city felt like a trap, and we knew we had to move.
Rachel wasn't happy about it, but most of her group agreed it was time. The infected were getting bolder, their numbers growing. Staying put wasn't an option anymore.
We packed what we could and made our way out of the Science Center. The rain poured down, soaking us to the bone. Sadie stayed close, her ears perked up, always alert.
Day 166
Navigating the city was a nightmare. The rain had brought hordes of infected out into the open, drawn by the sounds of collapse and decay. We moved quietly, sticking to alleyways and avoiding main roads.
Every corner we turned, I expected to see a swarm of them, but somehow, we stayed ahead of the danger. The rain masked our footsteps, and we managed to slip past the worst of it.
We found a woman huddled under an overpass. Her name was Sandra, and she was clutching a baby wrapped in a soaked blanket. She was alone, terrified, and exhausted.
Day 167
Sandra told us her story—her husband had been infected a few days ago. He turned in front of her, and she had to leave him behind. The baby, Sarah, was all she had left.
There was something about Sandra that drew me in. Despite everything, she had a quiet strength, a determination to protect her child at all costs. I felt something between us, though neither of us spoke of it.
We brought her along, offering what little comfort we could. The group accepted her, and we kept moving east, away from the city and the infected swarms that roamed its streets.
Day 168
We ran into an ambush today. A group of survivors, desperate and savage, tried to take what little we had. They didn't expect us to fight back.
Derek was the first to react, pulling out his knife and slashing at the nearest attacker. I followed suit, using the butt of my rifle to knock one to the ground. Rachel's group fought with the ferocity of people who had nothing left to lose.
It was over quickly, but the encounter left us shaken. We couldn't trust anyone out here. The world had become a place where survival meant taking lives without hesitation.
Day 169
We found a working school bus in a garage just outside the city. It was old and rusty, but the engine turned over, and it had enough fuel to get us moving.
It felt like a small victory—having wheels meant we could cover more ground, stay ahead of the infected, and maybe even find a safer place to settle.
We piled into the bus, crammed together with our supplies and what little comfort we could find. Sandra sat beside me, her baby asleep in her arms. There was a silence between us, a shared understanding of what we'd lost and what we still had to fight for.
Day 170
The bus rumbled eastward, carrying us away from the ruins of Seattle. The rain finally let up, leaving a heavy mist that clung to the landscape like a shroud.
We passed through abandoned towns and empty highways, always on the lookout for threats. The roads were littered with wreckage—cars piled up, buildings collapsed, signs of the chaos that had taken over.
Sandra and I talked quietly as the bus rolled on. She spoke of her husband, how he was once strong and protective, and how quickly the infection took him. There was a sadness in her voice, but also a resolve to keep going for her daughter.
I felt a connection with her, something deeper than just companionship. But there was no time for that now. Survival was all that mattered, and everything else would have to wait.
Day 171
We've been on the road for two days now. The bus is holding up, though it groans with every mile. The group is exhausted, but there's a sense of relief in putting distance between us and the city.
Derek and I take turns driving, always on the lookout for signs of life—or danger. The world outside the windows is bleak, a wasteland of ruined buildings and overgrown wilderness.
We're heading east, toward some hope of finding a place untouched by the infection. But deep down, I wonder if such a place even exists anymore.
Day 172
We stopped to rest near an old rest stop, the bus hidden behind a cluster of trees. The air is cold, and the night is eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that makes you feel like you're being watched.
Sandra and I sat by the fire, watching the flames dance in the darkness. She thanked me for saving her, for giving her and Sarah a chance. I told her it was nothing, but I felt something warm in her words.
Whatever this is between us, it's buried under layers of fear and uncertainty. There's no room for love in a world like this, but maybe, just maybe, there's still room for hope.