Final Days

The Desperado

Journal Entry – Day 21

We left the caves early this morning. The sky was clear, a cruel blue that made the cold wind feel even colder. The sun was already high, baking the land as we headed out into the desert.

Nevada is different here—dry, desolate. The ground is cracked and parched, like it's been waiting for rain that never comes. We've been walking for hours, our feet kicking up clouds of dust with every step. There's no shade, no shelter, just endless stretches of nothing.

Marcellus is tired. He's been quiet all day, just trudging along beside me. I can't blame him. It's hard to stay positive when the world around you is so empty. We're both exhausted, but we keep moving. There's nothing else to do.

Journal Entry – Day 22

The heat is unbearable. We've been walking since sunrise, and the sun shows no mercy. There are mirages on the horizon, shimmering illusions that vanish as we get closer. The land stretches on, unyielding, with not a soul in sight.

We found a small, abandoned shack in the afternoon. It's a wreck—roof caved in, walls barely standing—but it offers some respite from the relentless sun. We rested inside, eating what little food we have left and drinking the last of our water.

I thought about what Dad would've done in a place like this. I imagine he'd have pressed on, no matter how bleak things seemed. I've got to keep that spirit alive, for both of us.

Journal Entry – Day 23

The desert is playing tricks on us. The heat waves distort everything, making the land seem to move. We've been following an old road that's barely visible, more a suggestion of a path than a real route.

Marcellus spotted something in the distance—a cluster of what looked like trees or maybe buildings. We pushed through the heat, hoping for some sign of life. But as we got closer, it turned out to be another mirage.

We're out of water and low on food. We found a small spring this evening, just a trickle of water coming out from under some rocks. It's not much, but it's something. We drank our fill and refilled our canteens. The water was cool and tasted like hope.

Journal Entry – Day 24

Today was the hardest yet. The sun was relentless, and the road seemed to stretch on forever. We're both sunburned and exhausted, our supplies nearly gone. We're making slow progress, but we're still moving.

In the afternoon, we came across an old, rusted car. It was half-buried in the sand, the tires flattened, but it offered some shade. We crawled underneath and rested for a while, trying to escape the heat.

Marcellus finally spoke up. He talked about what he dreams of—finding a place that's safe, where we can settle down. I didn't have the heart to tell him how unlikely that is. But maybe, just maybe, if we keep going, we'll find something worth fighting for. For now, we just need to make it through another day.

Journal Entry – Day 25

We woke up early, desperate to find anything that could help us. The desert had been relentless, and our spirits were flagging. But as we walked, we spotted something up ahead—an old gas station and a garage, nearly buried in sand but still standing.

When we approached, I couldn't believe my eyes. The gas station was deserted, but the garage door was slightly ajar. Inside, there was a car. It was dusty and rusted but looked intact.

Marcellus and I scoured the gas station for supplies. There were a few cans of food and some bottled water left behind. We packed as much as we could into the car and got it started. To my surprise, the engine roared to life after a few tries.

Journal Entry – Day 26

The car is a godsend. We drove all day, leaving the desert behind. It's a relief to be out of the sun, even if the roads are rough.

The landscape has started to change. There are more hills and occasional patches of green. We saw a sign today, "Welcome to Utah." It felt like a victory, seeing that sign, like we were making progress.

Marcellus is in better spirits. The car has made a huge difference. We're driving east, away from the empty expanse of Nevada. We both know it's still a long way to wherever we're headed, but it's a start.

Journal Entry – Day 27

We pushed on through the night, making the most of the car while we have it. It's not perfect—there are problems with the transmission and the air conditioning doesn't work—but it's better than walking.

The scenery has continued to change. The flat desert gave way to rolling hills and occasional patches of forest. It feels almost like the world is waking up again.

We came across a small town in Utah. It was empty, but the streets were in decent shape. We found a diner that still had some food and a couple of bottles of old soda. It wasn't much, but it was a nice change from the rations we've been living on.

Journal Entry – Day 28

Today was the best we've had in a while. The car's been running well, and the roads have been mostly clear. We've managed to make good time, and the scenery continues to improve.

Marcellus and I have been talking more, sharing stories and plans. He's starting to open up about his fears and hopes. It's nice to have someone to talk to, someone who understands what we're going through.

As we drive, I can't help but think about the journey ahead. It's still a long road to whatever lies east, but at least we're not alone. We've got each other and a chance to make it through.

Journal Entry – Day 29

We were cruising along, making decent progress when we ran into trouble. Up ahead, we saw a group of people—riders on horses, dressed like Wild West outlaws. Their clothes were tattered, and their faces were covered with scarves and hats.

I thought about turning around, but it was too late. The Desperados, as they called themselves, had already noticed us. They started circling our car, brandishing old revolvers and rifles.

Marcellus and I didn't have much choice. I grabbed a makeshift weapon from the car—an old crowbar—and prepared for trouble. But before we could act, one of the Desperados fired a warning shot. It was chaos from there. I tried to dodge their attacks but didn't have a gun to defend ourselves.

Journal Entry – Day 30

The shootout was a mess. I barely managed to avoid the gunfire. The car's tires squealed as I swerved, trying to evade the attackers. Marcellus was shouting, trying to help, but it was no use. I crashed the car right into one of the riders. The impact sent him flying, but the force of the collision threw us off course.

Before I could regain control, we smashed into a massive Buy-Mart that had been looted and left to rot. The car crumpled against the building, metal groaning as it gave way.

We were both thrown forward, and the car came to a halt with a shuddering crash. The Desperados, seeing their chance, rode off into the distance, their laughter echoing in the night.

Journal Entry – Day 31

We're stuck. The car is totaled, and the Buy-Mart we crashed into is a wreck. We've managed to crawl out of the car, but we're battered and bruised. The place is a mess—aisles overturned, debris everywhere. It looks like it's been picked clean, but we might find something useful.

Marcellus is shaken but alive. He's been quiet, probably trying to process what just happened. I'm exhausted, my head pounding from the crash. We need to find shelter and rest, but there's no telling what else we might run into.

Journal Entry – Day 32

Spent the day scavenging the Buy-Mart. Found some food and water, but not much else. The car's a wreck, and we can't move it. Looks like we're stuck here for now.

We set up a makeshift camp inside the store. It's not ideal, but it's shelter. I'm trying to keep Marcellus's spirits up, but it's hard. The Desperados might come back, or worse, we could run into something else entirely.

The day was long, and the store's eerie silence was only broken by the occasional creak of the building. We'll have to move on soon, but for now, we're hunkered down, waiting for whatever comes next.