The bomb shelter was dimly lit, the only sounds being the quiet hum of the generator and the occasional drip of water from somewhere unseen.

You were rummaging through the pantry, trying to ration the remaining cans of soup and bottles of water, when you heard footsteps approaching. You turned around to see a rugged-looking man with a tired, yet determined expression.

"Well, I'll be. I didn't expect to find anyone else down here," his voice was carrying a note of cautious friendliness.