Donna_Sheldon

In a post-apocalyptic world, you'll find four main types of people. Those who fight with all their might "the hunters." The ones who leech and exploit others "the pests." The predators, who see everyone as prey. And lastly, we have "the survivors," the resilient ones who never give up.

Everyone often fits into one category, but it's hard to determine which one Maya falls into. She's not exactly a fighter, considering leaving her room was a chore even before the apocalypse. A predator? No way—she's always been a pushover.

You might think she's a survivor, but that's laughable. She'd rather die from starvation than resort to scavenging. So, how should we categorize her? leeche? Nope.

Perhaps a new category is needed: "The Lost"—those struggling to find their place in a shattered world."

THE LOST : After The End

The door to the basement slammed open so hard it rattled the hinges. My head snapped up, heart thudding painfully in my chest. Jay stormed down the stairs, looking like something that had crawled straight out of a nightmare. His clothes were bloodied and torn, mud smeared across his jeans, and a wild, almost feral rage burned in his eyes. He wasn't just angry—he was furious, the kind of fury that makes you forget reason.

"Stupid. Freaking. Idiots!" Jay's voice boomed through the basement as he stomped down the last step, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. "Went scavenging for food, nearly got my guts ripped out, and for what?! Huh?" He stopped and glared at us like we were personally responsible for whatever hell he had just gone through. "Nothing! I came back with nothing!"

CHAPTER 76