As soon as we landed at the shelter entrance, I jumped out and, without waiting for the others, rushed headlong toward the entrance. My quick steps on the metal stairs echoed loudly in the silence of the underground, and the joy of the anticipated meeting was so great that I didn't even notice the strange, absolute silence that reigned inside.

  I realized something was wrong only when I heard the shot. The bullet whistled close to my head, embedding itself in the concrete wall nearby. Whoever shot apparently wasn't aiming—or aimed too hastily and missed. Fortunately, I was near the entrance and instantly ducked behind a protrusion, pressing my back against the cold stone and trying to calm my wildly pounding heart.

  At that same moment, I realized with no small pride that during our short time struggling for survival, I had become a different person—a seasoned wolf, capable of instantly reacting to a threat. Oh, if only Hunter could see me now…

  "Now the main thing is to quietly go up, get weapons, and come back down," I thought, feverishly removing my heavy boots to step silently. In just my socks, trying not to make a sound, I backed up the stairs to the exit.

  Above, I briefed my companions on the situation in a few words. The generals quickly exchanged glances but asked no unnecessary questions. Zhang, though noticeably pale, asked to come with us. We quickly armed ourselves with the short-barreled automatic rifles they had given us from army stores before departure, and now the four of us began descending into the underground. Now, covered by my comrades, my steps became steady, and my finger rested confidently on the trigger.

  Slowly but surely, we began our descent. While one of us watched the lower steps, another covered the upper platform.

  When we finally reached the atrium, we discovered that all entrances were locked with massive metal gates. After conferring, we first approached those leading to the residential part of the shelter and began knocking with our rifle butts. The hollow echo of metal striking metal resonated throughout the underground, reflecting off the walls and multiplying, but no one answered from inside. The opening mechanism was either blocked or without power.

  "We'll have to cut through," I said in despair, feeling icy horror boil inside me at the thought of what might have happened to Sarah.

  We were about to go to the workshops for a welding torch when suddenly a quiet, frightened voice was heard from behind the door. It was Kyla's voice.

  "It's me, Ork, open up!" I shouted to her in a breaking voice, pressing my lips to the cold metal.

  But the girl didn't rush to open. A painful pause hung behind the door, in which only her uneven breathing could be heard.

  "Where is he?" she finally asked, and in her voice was genuine, animal fear.

  "Who is 'he'?" I didn't understand.

  "Be careful, Professor. Lieutenant Howard is alive. And he's armed."

  These words hit me like a blow from a rifle butt. It was monstrous. So much time had passed since Howard locked himself in the "luxury suite"—or rather, since we locked him in. How did he manage to survive without food or water? And how did he get out? It was a mystery with no explanation.

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  Meanwhile, Kyla finally believed it was me and decided to open the doors. When the panels slid apart and she saw me, she immediately threw herself around my neck as if seeing her own father. Awkwardly comforting her, I felt her thin body shaking with sobs.

  "When we finished sorting the food... Stanley wanted to remove Howard's body from the suite. He went in alone, and he turned out to be still alive," the girl spoke through tears, choking on her words. "He shot... He shot Stanley..."

  The news was terrible, but I was eager to learn the main thing: who else he had managed to kill.

  "Did he... anyone else..." I interrupted her, not daring to say the word "kill" and hear Sarah's name in response.

  Kyla just shrugged, wiping her tears with a trembling hand.

  "I don't know. I locked myself in my room and hid there until I heard Howard leave the residential zone, and then I blocked the doors. I don't know anything else."

  "How many more shots were there?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

  "Two. And just now—the third..."

  "So he managed to kill two more," I thought, and my heart clenched with an icy premonition. Sarah... Howard had always disliked her, and she reciprocated. It always seemed to me that only our presence kept them from tearing each other's throats out. And now that he had a chance for revenge...

  But as it turned out later, besides the poor woman doctor who looked out into the corridor at the sound of shooting, Howard had also eliminated Colonel Daniels—due to his injury, he physically couldn't defend himself or lock a door.

  With our rifles ready, we began methodically sweeping the shelter. The group moved cohesively, the generals covering each other with professional skill, Zhang staying slightly behind, guarding the rear, ready for anything. We found Howard in the smoked meats warehouse—apparently, he had decided to replenish supplies before fleeing or locking himself in a new hiding place.

  Seeing us, he raised his weapon, but never got a chance to fire. We riddled him with bullets in an instant. He fell face down, without uttering a word, among the opened boxes of provisions now splattered with his blood. I looked at his motionless body and felt no hatred. Only sadness and a sense of emptiness. One more death in this world where so few of us remained.

  We found Sarah locked in the medical storage room. Hearing my voice, she opened the doors without hesitation and joyfully embraced me. In that embrace was everything: fear, relief, unspoken tenderness, and that very strength I had spoken about at Raven Rock. She was trembling all over, but stood firm.

  "I knew you'd come back," she whispered, burying her face in my shoulder.

  "Knew or hoped?" I asked, stroking her disheveled hair.

  "It's the same thing," she answered, and for the first time in a long while, I saw a smile on her face.

  Besides Kyla and Sarah, we found Baz and Emily in a farther apartment. They sat huddled together and flinched at our appearance, but upon seeing familiar faces, they breathed a sigh of relief. During their forced confinement, first love had united them—the kind that blossoms even in hell, despite everything.

  "Can we lock down the shelter while you're gone?" Baz asked, and in his voice sounded a seriousness unusual for his age. Having learned of my impending long departure, he clearly now felt responsible for those who remained.

  "You can," I said, and after brief instructions on shelter security—how to use the door locks and what signals to give in case of danger—we headed to the half where the food warehouses were located.

  Upon learning our goal—to visit China in search of answers—Sarah immediately and categorically declared that she was flying with us. Not waiting for objections, she immediately left to pack her necessary things.

  While Sarah was getting ready for the journey, my companions busied themselves replenishing supplies. I watched as they methodically went through boxes, selecting the most necessary items: high-protein canned goods, medical kits, radio batteries. They worked silently but efficiently—military training showed.

  Baz and I stayed behind to discuss details about shelter security in our absence. I explained to him how often to change access codes, how to check ventilation for contamination, what to do in case of another earthquake. He listened attentively, nodding and occasionally asking clarifying questions.

  "Just promise to come back soon," he managed to say at parting, and moisture glistened in his eyes.

  "If I stay alive, I'll definitely return," I shook his hand in gratitude. The handshake was firm, masculine—the boy was visibly becoming a man.

  When all preparations were finally complete, we went outside. Snow was still falling, in large, fluffy flakes, covering the tracks of our boots and seemingly making the world cleaner than it really was. Sarah stood beside me, inspired and composed, ready for the next stage of our endless journey.

  "Beautiful," she said softly, watching the falling snow.

  "Yes," I took her hand. "Sometimes it seems to me that this is all we have left. This deadly beauty. And a little hope."

  We headed toward the Atlas, leaving behind the shelter where now, from our original group, only Baz, Emily, and Kyla remained—the new generation, destined to live out their lives in this new world. And ahead lay the unknown, endless radio silence, and perhaps those who had survived across the ocean.

  But now, at this moment, as I held Sarah's hand and the snow fell on our shoulders, that was the only thing that mattered.