And we were, if only for ourselves.

But the world’s a savage place, and even the staunchest believer must realize by now there wasn’t gonna be no divine intervention.  There ain’t no right or wrong no more, and man’s at the bottom of the food chain.

Hell, there ain’t even the devil to contend with.

Just them amoral shitbags.

Equal opportunity at its finest.

You think them bastards care who they eat?  If they recognize you as human, by whatever mechanism they use, you’re lunch.

It’s a sad fact, and time everybody left recognized it.

I remembered a pamphlet them church guys were giving out at the very first shelter I found, back when it still seemed like we might have a chance.  Now I’ve never been much for religion, so I just sort of scanned it.

What it said was, “God is kind and merciful.”

What it looked like it said was, “God is kind of merciless.”

Been nearer to the truth to just stick with that.

For all you believers out there.

I seen ‘em fall.

They walk out on the pier or they walk out on the jetty or just plain walk out on the sand, but either way, they’re too dumb to keep from getting swept away by the tide.

Where they went or if they lasted, I can’t tell you.

For all I know, they might all be sitting at the bottom of the ocean, their filled-up lungs holding them down.

They might be in a fish’s belly.

Hell, I don’t know.

All I know is, I’m glad when it happens.

All I know is, that’s one less stinking rot-bag we gotta fight.

I guess our grandmas told us such horror stories about the Depression and all, a lot of us got scared and started saving every stupid string and box and rubber band we got our hands on.

But them hoarders, they saved more ‘n string, didn’t they?

They saved old clothes.

They saved rope.

They kept slivers of soap and near-empty bottles of shampoo and every last drop of laundry soap they had.  And sometimes they just saved the empty containers, but you can swish a little water around in them sometimes and get another couple of uses out of ‘em.

I don’t know if they were cheap or just scared, but all that junk they kept sure comes in handy, don’t it?

Wood to burn from old crates.

Buckets for our water.

Old rags for wipin’.

There’s no end to the favors they’re doin’ us, so lesson learned.

Everything has a use.

I guess that’s how them sons of bitches at the shelter started figuring out we could eat each other in the first place.

And we were, if only for ourselves.

But the world’s a savage place, and even the staunchest believer must realize by now there wasn’t gonna be no divine intervention.  There ain’t no right or wrong no more, and man’s at the bottom of the food chain.

Hell, there ain’t even the devil to contend with.

Just them amoral shitbags.

Equal opportunity at its finest.

You think them bastards care who they eat?  If they recognize you as human, by whatever mechanism they use, you’re lunch.

It’s a sad fact, and time everybody left recognized it.

I remembered a pamphlet them church guys were giving out at the very first shelter I found, back when it still seemed like we might have a chance.  Now I’ve never been much for religion, so I just sort of scanned it.

What it said was, “God is kind and merciful.”

What it looked like it said was, “God is kind of merciless.”

Been nearer to the truth to just stick with that.

For all you believers out there.

I ain’t blaming him, neither.

Anyway, to keep him busy, to keep his mind off things, we put him to work.  Mostly he works with Wil, still tryin’ to get that damn foglight lit.

All of a sudden, Matt and I hear a whoop and holler.

“Yay!” I heard Ronnie call up the stairs.  “We did it.  Me ‘n Wil did it!”