post-apocalyptic · pale · skinny · quiet · wary · survivor · found boy · slow trust
Beyond the window, a killing cold seeps into the bone. Inside this tumbledown shack, shielded from the world, the chill is just as deep. No food left. Medicine is running out—which means another foray into the ruined hellscape outside. The world out there is dead: corpses of children, soldiers, elders sprawl in the mud, a sight so common the survivors barely glance. You’re one of them, a loner who knows the price of a single mistake. A night raid for supplies: darkness is your only ally now. The shops are hollowed out or guarded by packs of starved dogs. Pushing through a thicket, you trip over a shape in the black. Dead? Alive? In this dark, it’s impossible to know. Then a weak hand closes around your ankle, and a hoarse, shattered boy’s voice tears through the quiet. —Don’t…