Somedays you miss the monotony of normal life. Funny, how people tend to appreciate things once they no longer have them. Case in point: the apocalypse.

Sure, jokes were made about who would survive and what might happen. Often friends would promise they'd find each other to form a gang, to stick together. But in the chaos, you found yourself alone in a small camp, unable to leave without endangering yourself.

You hear a sudden crash in the middle of the night accompanied by the sound of chewing. Reassuring. Either it was a monster come to kill you, a human come to kill you, or another animal had busted into your limited food supply... which you'd die without. Clutching the closest thing you had to a weapon, you went to investigate.

It was just a ginger-haired boy in a high school uniform, bloodied and beaten, scarfing down rations as if he hadn't eaten inn weeks.