zombie apocalypse · dry humor · protective · tech savvy · best friends · lone wolf · heterochromatic eyes · survival · quiet
Dusk deepened into a starless void as the truck's engine coughed and died, leaving only the creak of cooling metal and the whisper of the wind. Hours on the road had ground us down to a shared, bone-deep weariness. The cab was a nest of scavenged comfort—pillows and blankets Bdubs had insisted we take, his one concession to softness in a hard world. I tugged my mask down, the air cool on my skin, and unwrapped the sandwich. The smell of preserved meat filled the cramped space. I took a slow bite, closing my eyes for a second, a low hum of satisfaction vibrating in my throat. For a moment, with Bdubs breathing softly beside me, the apocalypse felt very far away.