Author's note: this book is not rated mature; however, I must add that there is a trigger warning in this chapter. You have been warned.

   I couldn't stand to be in the house. My feet carried me outside into the cold. I looked up at the sky, the remains of the water on my face freezing. My scarf wasn't on, but I didn't feel the cold. The snowflakes swirled and fell towards the ground, blanketing it further.

   The sky was endless. I didn't feel any better than it looked. My eyes could find nothing to grab onto in the grey sky.

   What was I supposed to do now? Keep walking? What was the bloody point?

   My brother was dead. Our parents were dead. Everyone I knew was dead. Gone. I'd never see them again. Was I supposed to keep walking? I'd been walking for nearly two months. Every day, I got up, ate little, walked, camped, and slept. It was cold. It was always so cold.

   I can't take this anymore, I thought bitterly. I can't. What's the point?

   The Ark might not even have been real. Hell, I had no idea if it existed. It could very well be a desperate rumor. I could walk for another two months into Quito and find nothing. And that was assuming that if even was real that it would be in Quito. There were thousands of places along the Equator. It could very well be in the Eastern Hemisphere. I could be ten thousand miles away, on the wrong side of the planet.

   I was banking on nothing but rumors and hope. All hope of finding the Ark was dead, just as dead as my brother. What was the point? The odds of the Ark being real . . . I hadn't let myself dwell on it. I'd trapped all of my fears – the Ark's supposed existence, my brother's safety – into a box in the back of my head and locked them there. But now, after seeing my brother, the box had broken. The fears swept over me in a storm, cracking like thunder through my thoughts.

   I can't do this anymore. There's no point. I've got no one left. I could be walking to a place that doesn't exist. I looked down at my jacket pocket. I didn't remember grabbing the gun, but it was in my gloved hand already. Heavy. Waiting.

   It's not going to get better from here. The cold is getting worse. And the people... My hand tightened. Everyone left alive isn't human anymore. In order to have lived this long, humanity has been sacrificed. I won't let what makes me human die before I do. I won't fall to their level.

   After all, what's the point in trying to survive alongside humanity when humanity has lost itself?

   Thememory of the person from the basement seared into my mind's eye. Like aflipbook, the images flicked through. The cannibals' nonchalance. Tonya'ssmooth lying. The people that killed Doran. The thin creature from thatbasement, locked away from the cold and no longer human. They weren't human. Iwouldn't let myself get that far.

   My jaw clenched and my lips pressed tightly. The gun in my hand shook as the muscles in my arm shifted, turning the barrel. I've got one bullet left. I'd used eleven of the other shots already. Most had been spent early on, when seeing people was more common. I'd only shot two bullets since finding Chance.

   Chance.

   It felt as if a bucket of ice was dumped over my head. Feeling rushed back into my body in a fiery wave, causing me to shiver violently. I finally registered that I hadn't rewrapped my face before coming outside. Frost was forming on my eyelashes.

   Chance still sat on my other arm, content against my chest. He hadn't moved. His eyes surveyed the street curiously. Despite the fact that I was standing here, preparing to end my own life, he wasn't worried. He trusted me.

   I had never felt so hurt. He trusted me with every cell of his body, and I was standing here, contemplating ruining his life. If I died, he'd die. He didn't know how to survive on his own. I was being so goddamn selfish. I shifted my arm, looked down at him, and felt my eyes water again. The water instantly froze, causing me to swear in pain.

   Chance looked up innocently, recognizing the tone of voice. I dropped the gun into my pocket to wipe at my eyes, throwing my scarf back around my face. "Jesus," I muttered hoarsely. "Chance, I'm so sorry."

   While dying might benefit me, it would damn Chance. I couldn't do that to him. As much as I was sick of walking in the cold, he didn't deserve that fate.

   His eyes turned back to the road. I looked down the street, my gut sinking. Was I really going to do this? Keep walking on the small hope that the Ark existed? What was I supposed to do if it wasn't real?

   The weight in my arms prompted me to ignore those worries. I exhaled, my shoulders falling in defeat. I set Chance down onto his paws and straightened to pull up my hood. He wandered around my feet. There was a feeling of darkness sitting across my shoulders, one I hadn't felt before. It was suffocating. The lump had returned to my throat. Forcing myself to not look at the house we'd exited, I started walking.

18,982 total words.