Chapter 0:

Hungry Face

After the End


The jungle was silent.

Harold held his spear close. He and his friend were walking in the jungle towards their camp with the little food they had managed to catch. The two were just as quiet as their surroundings. 

Not a single bird was chirping.

The two men were walking with their catch tied in a bundle as tightly as possible, trying to suppress the smell of fresh meat and blood that oozed from it. Even though it didn't work much, it was the best they could do to draw attention to themselves.

As they walked, Harold spoke up.

"I really can't get used to this."

"This what?" The other man asked. His stance was way more tense than Harold's.


"The silence, Stephen, the silence. It still doesn't feel as deadly as it is."

Stephen raised an eyebrow and stared at Harold's body. Scars ran along his arms and upper body along with marks as dark as the ace of spades. If he hadn't been around when Harold got most of those, he would've believed someone had put his friend through a meat grinder of sorts. But that wasn't the case. He knew how he got every single one of those.

Stephen looked down at the scar on his arm. The only one on his entire body.

"Talk for yourself. You know I've been scared shitless ever since we left the bunker. You, though, clearly have a death wish."

Harold laughed.

"Knowing my family is safe," Harold begun saying, "I don't have any reason to not risk my life to save other lives."

Stephen sighed, and both continued walking without making a sound for a while.

"Even if Emma and James are probably alive, you shouldn't try so hard to leave them without a father," finally answered Stephen. 


Harold suddenly stopped in his track. For a second Stephen thought he had gone too far, but then he heard it.

The bushes around them were rustling.

"Stephen," Harold whispered as he put down the food and raised his spear, "get the food and run."

"We can take them, Harold. I'm not leaving you alone." Stephen raised his spear as well, but his friend looked at him sternly.

"How many do you think are there?"

Stephen stood still for a moment, trying to guess how many were coming from the bushes, but he never had the best hearing.

"Four...?" He attempted.

"Wrong. Please go."

Stephen wanted to protest, but no word left his mouth. He reluctantly grabbed the bundle from the ground. The rustling was becoming more intense, they were getting closer.

"If you see them, on the other side, tell my family I love them." Stephen said.

"Only if you'll do the same."


Stephen nodded and started walking away.

"Godspeed, my friend."

The leaves rustled one final time.

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After the End


Rinnest
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