Day 513

It’s a brown pleather notebook he grabs for, sitting among all other objects around it, shining in their twenty-fifth-century appeal as if the world hasn’t ended. Then, thumbing expeditiously through, he finds an empty page, the last page.

“I guess this is where we end then,” he says aloud to the journal, then picks up his pen.

Day 513

I’m the only one left now. There was another, but he decided to go yesterday, stepping out into the toxic air and letting the virus take hold of him. The entire decay of the organs with this virus takes approximately five minutes. So I doubt his body is far from the bunker.

The vents here are still holding on, far more than I am. There’s no food. Not really, at least. What’s left is rotten, growing mold, and turning odd colors. After some time, I’ve become accustomed to the smell. I tried to eat from an old can. The label had been ripped off, but I believe it to be lima beans. Who knew canned foods eventually go bad? Isn’t that what people hoard in times like this?

All communication with other bunkers has ceased. I keep the radio on just in case, but there’s been no other broadcast in months. Sometimes, if I can sleep, I hear other voices, but it’s never from the radio. I can still hear my spouse yelling at me to do chores or softly saying, “I love you more.” It’s all in my head.

If only this hadn’t happened. I had so many opportunities to be better. Not working so hard, taking extra time away for the money, and having been a better spouse. I’m sorry I didn’t cherish my family as I should have while they were alive. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stop the virus from taking them moments after it ravished Earth, they were thousands of miles away, and I was here in this lab. If I had that second chance, I would have died with them.

Regret is all I’m filled with now.

It’s time, old book. Five hundred and thirteen pages of nonsense that maybe someone will eventually find after all this is over. Who knows, perhaps the human race will never exist again? Maybe . . . just maybe, I am the last one.

I told you on day one that when this book is complete, I will walk outside too. I’m going now.