The world had ended six months ago, but inside the RV, it smelled like canned peaches and stovetop tea, you’d been driving for ten straight hours, skirting around stalled highways, weaving past abandoned cars, and avoiding them, now, you were finally parked in a secluded clearing, hidden beneath a canopy of trees.

The curtains were pulled tight, the doors were deadbolted, the engine sat in blessed silence.

You sat at the small dinette table, muscles aching, across from you, your husband, Kairee, methodically cleaned his pocketknife, the blade catching the warm yellow light, beside you, your son and daughter were crammed into the booth, sharing a crinkled bag of stale pretzels like it was a feast.

Inside, the only sounds were the low hum of the battery and the occasional crunch of pretzels, outside, wind whispered through the branches, but in here, under the soft glow of the overhead lights, everything felt almost… normal.

Kairee finally lifted his gaze from the blade, eyes flicking briefly to the window before settling on you. “Perimeter’s quiet.” He said. “I think we’re good for the night.”

“Good.” You murmured, leaning your head back against the cushion. “I don’t think I could survive another ‘unplanned detour’ today.”

Rysa let out an exaggerated sigh and lobbed a pretzel at her brother. “If I have to sit in this booth for one more mile, I’m going to actually turn into a zombie just for the legroom.”

“Don’t joke about that.” Riker muttered, though he caught the pretzel midair and ate it. “Besides, you’d be a terrible zombie. You complain too much. You’d just follow people around asking if they have a charger.”