Survival in the last days of America

"Ugh... I don't even know if she's still in the quarantine zone..."

Brian let out a soft sigh after hearing Sarah's words. Deep down, he didn't hold much hope of finding Sylvie's younger sister — but at least trying was better than doing nothing.

Then, as if something had just clicked in his mind, he asked:

"Didn't Sylvie say her sister was in her senior year at George High School? In Atlanta?"

"Mm-hmm," Sarah nodded slightly after thinking for a moment.

"Yeah, back when we were in Cahen, that's what she told us."

With that confirmation, Brian continued:

"Even though we don't know if she made it to the quarantine zone, we can still search by age. If she was in her final year of high school, she should be around seventeen or eighteen now."

"In other words, if she did enter the zone, she'd have two options: either skip school and become a civilian worker, or join the education system. But like I said before, someone her age would most likely be sent directly to one of the specialized training centers."

"Oh! Right!" Sarah's eyes lit up with realization. She smacked her palm excitedly.

"If she really got into the school, we can go to administration and ask them to help us find her. What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

Her entire demeanor changed the moment she had a clear goal. Without hesitation, she took a step forward, ready to bolt out the door.

"What's the rush?" Brian quickly caught the hood of her jacket before she could run off.

"Let's eat lunch first. After today's training, we'll go together."

After finishing their meal in the cafeteria, Brian returned to his dormitory. As soon as he opened the door, he saw a figure sitting on the other bed, absentmindedly twisting a Rubik's cube in his hands.

It was Amir, his new roommate — a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old black boy, thin and quiet, with a gloomy aura around him. He looked deeply troubled and withdrawn.

Brian gave him a slight nod upon entering, then walked over to his own bed, lifted the blanket, and climbed under it.

Amir had moved in only a few days ago. According to Devin, both his parents had died during the journey here. Brian immediately recognized another case of tragic loss — something he had seen too many times already. From Sarah, Alan, to Anna… he was nearly desensitized to these kinds of stories.

Although they hadn't spoken much, Brian always tried to show small acts of kindness toward Amir.

"Did you already eat?" Brian casually asked while leaning against the bed, flipping through a book and glancing at the boy.

Amir paused mid-turn of the cube, briefly lifted his head, then lowered it again and muttered:

"Not hungry."

"You'd better eat something anyway. Otherwise, you won't last through this afternoon's training — unless you plan not to attend."

As expected, Brian didn't react strongly. He kept reading without looking up, offering only a gentle reminder.

Silence fell over the room once more. Amir tossed the cube aside, removed his slippers, and climbed onto the bed. Facing the wall, he seemed ready to take a nap.

But suddenly, he flinched slightly, letting out a barely audible "hmmph." A flash of pain crossed his face before he buried it beneath the covers, turning further away from Brian, pretending to fall asleep.

Watching him from the corner of his eye, Brian noticed how stiff and sluggish Amir's movements were — as if he were still carrying the weight of his grief.

He wasn't sure what Amir was thinking, but he stayed silent.

...

Unlike the rigid theoretical classes, the afternoon physical training was relatively relaxed. Once you finished the daily quota, you were free to do whatever you wanted for the rest of the time.

For those who struggled academically, physical activity was almost relaxing. Although exhausting, it was far easier than wracking your brain for answers.

"Done. You're free to go."

After completing his final set of pull-ups, Brian released the bar and landed heavily on the ground, having been confirmed cleared by the instructor.

He pulled a small cloth from his pocket and wiped the sweat from his forehead while walking toward a nearby area. Having finished his training for the day, he now wanted to check on Sarah's progress.

As the days passed and Brian adapted to the routine, he found himself growing more accustomed to the physical workload. Though he still felt breathless and exhausted, he no longer experienced the same level of weakness he had at the beginning.

Once Sarah completed her training session, the two rested briefly before heading straight out of the courtyard.

"Who are those people? Why are there always groups of them standing there?" As they left the field, Sarah suddenly turned toward the bleachers along the edge of the exercise yard, asking curiously.

Brian followed her gaze and saw about twenty teenagers aged fifteen or sixteen gathered on the stands. Their faces wore an air of arrogance, clearly indifferent to everything going on around them. They pointed and laughed every time someone failed an exercise, showing cruel amusement at others' struggles.

Seeing this, Brian merely cast them a sidelong glance. No matter where you went, there would always be those striving forward and those falling behind.

Having escaped the dangers of the outside world and settled into the comfort of the quarantine zone, some had already chosen to forget the horrors they had survived.

Looking at the first visible group of troublemakers within the school, Brian couldn't help but twitch his lips slightly. These students had gathered there repeatedly without any intention of participating in training. Every day, they simply waited until the clock ran out before leaving.

And yet, their carefree lifestyle drew envy from others struggling through the exercises. Some even longed to join them, tired of the constant demands of survival.

Brian simply gave them an indifferent glance before turning to Sarah:

"They're just a group of kids who've given up on themselves. We don't need to pay attention to them, but also don't provoke them — they'll bring trouble if you do."

"Mm-hmm."

After leaving the courtyard, Brian and Sarah headed straight to the administrative office. It didn't take long to arrive.

Pushing open the office door, inside remained simple — just a table, chairs, and metal cabinets. The old man was still seated, scribbling something furiously, exactly as he had been the last time they came to inquire about Anna.

"Hello, sir! Can I look someone up?" Eager, Sarah hurried forward and asked the elderly man.

But the old man didn't respond. He kept writing, as if he hadn't heard her at all.

Seeing that the old man ignored her, Sarah thought maybe he just couldn't hear well due to his age and opened her mouth again to repeat her question.

"Don't rush," Brian stepped forward, gently patting her shoulder and shaking his head. "Just wait a bit."

He could tell the old man had indeed heard her — Brian had seen the man's ears twitch ever so slightly. He was just choosing not to answer.

That kind of behavior placed the old man firmly in Brian's mental category: a stubborn, difficult old man.

Though frustrated, Sarah restrained herself, swallowing her impatience and sitting beside Brian on a chair near the entrance.

Time ticked slowly. Half an hour passed without a single word from the old man. Sarah had almost stood up several times, but Brian silently stopped her each time with a hand gesture.

Finally, when Brian was about to give up entirely, the old man put down his pen as if done with his work. Slowly removing his reading glasses, he finally spoke his first sentence:

"What is your relationship with the person you're searching for?"

"..."

Sarah sat there blankly, her mind full of scattered thoughts. The sudden question threw her off guard — she opened her mouth, but forgot what she originally wanted to ask.

Luckily, Brian had been carefully observing the old man the entire time. He stood up instantly and calmly answered:

"She's family. We know she lived in Atlanta, but we're not sure whether she made it to the quarantine zone. That's why we're here — to check if she has a record here."