The Garden of Eden (Silent Moments Series: Book 5)

Chapter 1

 44 Days After Praimfaya

Surviving the aftermath of Praimfaya was something I still struggled to comprehend. The fact that the nightblood had worked was nothing short of miraculous. It was this realization, this faint glimmer of hope, that drove me to seek out the bunker. If the nightblood had saved me, it could save others too. My journey to where I stood now had been a grueling test of endurance and will. The entrance to Becca's lab, my refuge and prison, had caved in during the wave, trapping me inside. The days spent digging my way out had been arduous, but the drive to see the world outside again, to reconnect with any survivors, kept me going. Now, standing amidst the ruins of what was once a thriving, vibrant world, the extent of the destruction was overwhelming. The lush forests that had once covered the land were gone, replaced by an endless desert of desolation. It was hard to believe that this barren landscape was once home to diverse life and beauty.

Looking down at my map, I plotted my course to Polis. "210 miles to Polis. At least I don't have to swim," I mumbled to myself, trying to find some humor in the bleak situation. A journey of this magnitude would be challenging, but not impossible.

I slung the pack over my shoulder, its weight a familiar burden. "You got this," I whispered to myself, a mantra of self-encouragement. The journey ahead would be long and treacherous, but I was no stranger to adversity. Embarking on the journey to Polis on foot was a daunting task, especially considering the distance that had once taken ten hours to cover in a rover. The prospect of how long it would take me walking was a thought I tried to push from my mind. Resilience and a sense of purpose kept my feet moving, one step at a time, through the desolate landscape.

Days into the journey, fatigue and the monotony of the endless desert had begun to take their toll. The moment I tripped and fell was a jarring interruption to the steady rhythm I had found. Instinctively, I reached for my shovel. Perhaps it was desperation or intuition, but I started to dig right where I had fallen. To my astonishment, after just a few shovelfuls of sand, I uncovered something metallic. At first, I thought it was a gun, but a closer look revealed a much more significant find – it was part of the rover. A wave of disbelief and relief washed over me. It felt like a miracle, a sign that despite everything, there was still some luck on my side. Energized by this incredible stroke of fortune, I spent the rest of the day excavating the rover. As the sun began to set, the familiar outline of the vehicle emerged fully from its sandy grave. The realization that I could now reach Polis much faster than on foot filled me with a renewed sense of hope and urgency.

Sitting behind the wheel of the rover, I felt a momentary sense of normalcy in the midst of chaos. The rover, a relic of our past life on Earth, was now my lifeline. As I started the engine, the familiar hum was a comforting sound in the silent, barren world. With the rover back in operation, I set off towards Polis. The journey that had seemed endless on foot was now within reach. The discovery of the rover was more than just a means of transportation; it was a symbol of resilience, a reminder that even in the bleakest of times, there can be unexpected rays of hope. As I drove through the desolate landscape, each mile bringing me closer to Polis, I couldn't help but wonder what awaited me there. The journey was no longer just about reaching a destination; it was about uncovering the truths of this new world and finding any remaining threads of humanity. The road to Polis was a path to answers, to potential survivors, and to the next chapter in this post-apocalyptic world. With the rover's headlights cutting through the darkness, I pushed forward, driven by the unyielding human spirit to seek out life amid desolation.

Arriving at what used to be Polis was like entering a world I no longer recognized. The destruction wrought by the death wave was complete and merciless. Buildings that once stood proud were now reduced to rubble. It was a sight that would have been unrecognizable had I not spent so much time in this city. Climbing atop a pile of debris, I was met with a sight that took my breath away. The tower, which had been a symbol of Polis' strength and resilience, was now a mere shadow of its former self. Though it hadn't completely collapsed, it was severely damaged, its structure a haunting reminder of what once was.