A most-of-the-population-is-dead story written for entertainment, for me and and for everyone else...
I turned to Lou and said, "It is hot."
Lou scowled. "What the hell am I supposed to do about it?"
"Well, if it wasn't for you, we wouldn't be in the middle of a hot desert dying of thirst."
"If it wasn't for me, we'd already be dead. Get that through your thick skull, Arnie."
The man with the hood was still silent. He had joined us without a word, and we had let him. There were very few of us remaining, and Lou was convinced that we had the best chance of survival if we stuck together. We needed everybody, no matter how....weird
The hood-man was weird, all right. No doubt about it.
If bad got to worse, at least we could eat him to survive. I would be lying if I said that the thought of cannibalism had not crossed my mind. There were seven of us at the moment, and Lou figured we had just about enough food and water to survive another day.
Gabe was convinced we were heading in the right direction.
"We have to go for the mountains. That's our best shot." he kept saying. "Keep going for the mountains."
None of us wanted to admit that if Gabe happened to be wrong, which I knew from experience that he sometimes was, we would all die a horrible death.
Sometimes, at night, when the hot desert became freezing cold, I wondered if it wouldn't have been better if we'd been killed by whatever it was that killed everyone else.
The seven of us trudged forward, having no idea of what lay ahead of us...