"It's fucking brutal Avery!" Complained Lucas slamming another heavy journal down on the dusty desk in their tent.

"Day in, day out she has us scouring the pages of these old ass journals. But all she does is sit there and stare at an old broken bomb like it's going to have the answers."

"She doesn't just stare at the bomb thing... she's the only one who can read the journals." Avery interjected.

Lucas stared at his friend. His unnaturally white hair stuck to his forehead from all the sweat. His tattered clothes are a good indication of the post-apocalyptic world. His almost white eyes are a reminder of what had happened. The faint scar at his collarbone, a curse in itself. Both the cure and a death sentence. Avery was a ticking time bomb.

If they didn't find what Y/N was searching for... they would all soon be dead. Along with the rest of the world.

No one was safe and time was running out.