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

Chapter 3

Rushing back down the dune, I gathered my gear with a sense of urgency. Every second counted now; I was close to the green valley, to potential salvation, but first, I needed sustenance. Climbing back up to the vulture, I began the grim task of cleaning it. Survival in this world required doing things I never would have imagined before, and yet, it had become almost second nature. By the time I reached the tree line of the green oasis, the bird was fully prepared, stripped of its feathers. Starting a fire was an essential skill I had honed over time, and soon enough, I had a small flame flickering in the growing dusk. I carefully cleaned the guts, deciding to make use of every part of the bird. In my current state, nothing could be wasted. I cooked them first, eating them without any hesitation. Hunger overpowered any squeamishness I might have had.

As the meat cooked, the aroma filled the air, and I found myself salivating in anticipation. It had been so long since I had a decent meal, and the prospect of eating something substantial was overwhelming. Once I had finished eating, feeling somewhat satiated for the first time in days, I turned my attention to the radio. Setting up the little satellite, I prepared to send out another message. It was a ritual that had become a part of my survival, a way to connect with a world that I was no longer a part of. Even if there was no one on the other end to hear my words, the act of speaking them was a reminder that I was still here, still fighting. The green valley was a sign that life could continue, that survival was possible. It was a stark contrast to the desolation I had traversed, a reminder that even in the harshest of environments, there were pockets of life. As I sat by the fire, the warmth and light a small comfort in the vast wilderness, I felt a renewed sense of hope. This moment, with a full stomach and the greenery of the valley around me, was a small victory in the ongoing struggle for survival. It was a testament to my resilience, my adaptability, and my will to keep going, no matter what.

As I sat there, the flickering flames casting a warm glow in the growing darkness, I felt a sense of contemplation wash over me. The radio crackled softly in the background, a silent witness to my musings. "You know, I used to think that life was about more than just surviving," I started, my voice carrying a weight of realization. "But I'm not so sure anymore."

In this new world, survival had taken on a primal significance. It was a daily, unrelenting challenge, stripping away the complexities of morality and philosophy, reducing existence to its most basic elements. "Animals don't feel guilty when they kill. So why should I?" I pondered aloud, the question hanging in the air like smoke. In the wild, life was straightforward – kill or be killed. But as a human, the layers of emotion, of conscience, complicated things.

"They just do it. They kill, or they get killed." I continued, my thoughts meandering through the maze of survival. Every life I had taken weighed on me, each a decision made in the heat of the moment, a choice between life and death. "I tell myself that every life I took was for a reason. But the truth is, the other side had reasons, too."

The Grounders, the Mountain Men, ALIE – each had their own motivations, their own justifications. Our conflicts were a cycle of violence, each side propelled by the same basic instinct – survival. "It was us or them. Kill or be killed. Simple as that."

But now, in the solitude of the desert, with the threat of immediate danger diminished, I faced a new kind of challenge. "So what now? What becomes of the Commander of Death when there's no one left to kill?" It was a question that loomed large in my mind, a quandary about identity and purpose in a world that had been irrevocably altered.

"I guess we'll find out, because my fight is over." It was a statement of both resignation and relief. The battles I had fought, the lives I had taken, they were behind me now. The struggle for survival remained, but the nature of that struggle had changed.