They had been walking for weeks, if a such word made any sense anymore. The old horse was tired. Every day they had to carry more of the equipment themselves.
To the south there was nothing. The last people they had met coming from there said the destruction had been complete. That was a long time ago now. To the west it was still going on. And to the north… Well, you didn’t want to go north. You didn’t want to go north at all.
So they walked east. One day the horse fell. Rick tried to get it up.
It’s no use, his father said. It’s going to die.
He got his knife out. Rick wanted to stop him, but he knew it wouldn’t make sense. This way they would have food for some days, until the meat rotted.
They made a fire. Ate more than they had eaten in one meal for years. It tasted hash and was hard to chew, but it filled the stomach. They slept under the stars as always. It would be harder from here.
They had to leave many things behind. Useful things. They kept walking east. Many days and many nights went by.
They arrived at the coast.
So this is where we’re going to live? Rick looked out on the big waves. He had never seen the sea before. It was beautiful.
Hopefully, his father answered. Hopefully we’ll live.