It’s quiet again.

The cold, still, darkness of the night providing some safety. Still, every sound feels like a death sentence, any twitch or breath a trap.

30 days since “Deaths Angels” came down terrorizing the earth, killing anything within proximity.

There’s a reason they’d made it this long, Eric, was still trying to figure out what that was.

Most everyone tried to sleep. Some people cried when it was safe enough. Their soft hiccuping breaths lulling them to sleep. Eric sits up with her, and of course Frodo, a charming black and white cat who has against almost every odd had survived this- apocalypse, hell, nightmare?

A cat had outlived many people at this point

The cat moves from her lap over to his, he’d even stopped purring weeks ago- as if adapting and realizing the danger of any noise