Final Days

June 2027

Day 180
The bus finally brought us to Santa Monica. It was strange to see the city, still recognizable but beaten down by months of chaos. The coast was a graveyard of ships and debris, but the ocean's relentless waves didn't care about the end of the world.
We found a gated community that looked intact. The walls were high, the gates still locked, and it hadn't been overrun. We decided to make it our temporary base, at least for a while.
Inside, the houses were eerily untouched. It was like the residents just vanished, leaving everything behind—clothes in closets, food in pantries, photos on walls. We split up, searching each house carefully, making sure there were no infected hiding in the shadows.
Day 181
We settled into one of the larger houses, a two-story with enough room for all of us. It felt strange, almost surreal, to be in a place that still had electricity and running water. The pantry was stocked, the beds were clean, and it felt like a piece of the old world had survived.
Sadie wandered the halls, her claws clicking on the wooden floors. She seemed calmer here, less on edge. Maybe we all were, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was too good to be true.
Sandra and I took one of the upstairs bedrooms, sharing it with Sarah. We didn't talk about it; it just happened. There was a quiet understanding between us. We were both tired, too tired to question it.
Day 182
The gated community was like a ghost town. We spent the day exploring it, checking the other houses and gathering supplies. There was more here than we could have hoped for—food, medical supplies, even weapons.
Rachel and Derek started talking about making this place a permanent home. It was tempting. The walls were strong, and the houses were secure. We could survive here, maybe even start rebuilding something.
But I couldn't let go of the gnawing fear that staying in one place was dangerous. We'd seen too much, been through too many close calls. Settling down meant getting comfortable, and comfort was a luxury we couldn't afford.
Day 183
Sandra and I talked late into the night. She wanted to stay, to give Sarah a chance at something resembling a normal life. I could see the weariness in her eyes, the desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, this place could be different.
I wanted to believe it too. But the world outside these gates was still there, still hungry, still searching for anything living. Staying meant risking it all on the chance that the walls would hold.
I promised her we'd stay for now, but my mind was already on the next move. We couldn't get too comfortable, couldn't forget what was out there.
Day 184
The days passed slowly in Santa Monica. We fixed up the house, made it more secure, and got into a routine. It was almost like life before, but with an edge of tension that never went away.
We still took turns on watch, even though the community felt safe. Sadie was always by my side, alert to every sound, every movement. I trusted her instincts more than anything.
One evening, while sitting on the back porch, Sandra rested her head on my shoulder. For a brief moment, it felt like the world was normal again. But that moment passed quickly, replaced by the constant hum of dread in the back of my mind.
Day 185
We heard something outside the walls today. The distant moan of infected, too far to be an immediate threat but close enough to remind us that the world outside hadn't changed.
It was a reality check, a reminder that this place wasn't a sanctuary, just a temporary refuge. We fortified the gates, added more barricades, and made sure everyone was armed.
Sandra was quiet after that. I knew she still wanted to stay, but I could see the doubt creeping in. This wasn't a home—it was a waiting room, and sooner or later, the outside world would come knocking.
Day 186
We made the decision to move again. It wasn't easy, but it was necessary. Rachel and Derek were reluctant, but they understood. Staying here meant waiting for the inevitable.
We packed what we could, loaded up the bus, and prepared to leave. Sandra was the last to board, holding Sarah tightly. I didn't need to say anything—she knew we had to go.
As we drove out of the gated community, I looked back at the empty houses, the life we could have had if the world was different. But it wasn't, and we couldn't pretend otherwise.
The bus rumbled on, heading into the unknown once again.