Before the Apocalypse, the closest I'd gotten to death was buying steaks at the supermarket.
My balls shrank in terror. I was convinced we were going to die.
We never surrendered. We always kept in our hearts the most noble, beautiful feeling that sets human beings apart: hope.
I don't know if cats understand what their owners say, but they do have a strong survival instinct.
If we were the best hope the human race had for its salvation, things were more fucked up than I’d thought.
Despite the horror, we survivors were endowed with a will to survive. Or instinct. Or maybe it was faith.
