Final Days

The Blind Man

Journal Entry – Day 33

After scavenging what we could from the Buy-Mart, we knew we couldn't stay there. The place was too exposed, and the thought of the Desperados coming back kept us on edge. We had no choice but to continue on foot.

We walked through the night, keeping our eyes and ears open for trouble. It was slow going, but we eventually hit the highway again. With no car, the journey was harder, but we pushed through.

Journal Entry – Day 40

It took us days, but we finally made it to Salt Lake City. The city is nothing like it was before—quiet, eerie, and mostly abandoned. Buildings stand tall but empty, windows shattered, streets deserted. The place looks like a ghost town.

We stumbled upon an old motel on the outskirts of the city, and we've holed up there for the time being. The place is run-down, but it's safer than being out in the open.

Journal Entry – Day 41

Exploring the city has been like walking through a graveyard. We found a few supplies in an old grocery store, but it's clear that others have passed through here before us. The shelves are mostly empty, and what little is left is stale and expired.

Marcellus has been quiet since the crash. I don't blame him—everything we've been through has taken a toll on both of us. But in Salt Lake City, we've at least found a moment of peace, however brief.

Journal Entry – Day 42

Today, we ventured deeper into the city. It's strange, seeing such a large place so empty. There are signs that people once tried to hold out here—barricades, makeshift shelters—but it's all been abandoned now.

We came across an old church. The doors were wide open, and inside, it was eerily calm. We sat in one of the pews for a while, just taking in the silence. Marcellus lit a candle, and we said a few words for those we've lost along the way.

Journal Entry – Day 43

We've decided to stay in Salt Lake City for a few more days, to rest and regroup. The city may be dead, but it's given us a chance to catch our breath.

We're low on food and supplies, though, so we'll need to move on soon. East is the plan, but the road ahead is uncertain. We've heard rumors of other factions and settlements, but there's no telling what we'll find.

For now, we're taking it one day at a time, trying to survive in a world that's lost all sense of normalcy. We've come this far, and we're not giving up now.

Journal Entry – Day 44

Salt Lake City continues to surprise us. Today, while exploring the outskirts of the city, we met someone unexpected—a blind old man, sitting quietly on a bench outside what used to be a library. Beside him was a large German shepherd, its ears alert and eyes watchful.

Marcellus and I were cautious at first, but the old man called out before we could make a move. His voice was raspy, worn down by years of surviving in this wasteland.

"Don't worry, I'm not dangerous," he said with a chuckle. "At least, not anymore."

We approached slowly, keeping our hands visible. The German shepherd stood up and sniffed the air, then relaxed. The old man introduced himself as Emmett, and his dog as Duke.

Emmett explained that he had lost his sight years before everything went to hell. But he had great hearing, sharper than most people's, and that's how he had managed to survive. He could hear danger coming long before it arrived—whether it was the shuffle of infected feet or the rustle of a raider's gear.