The old man had his eyes closed. To me, who slept with one eye open, it looked like madness.

"Hey."

His green eyes stared into my soul.

"Food... Medicine." My world turned upside down and darkness took over.

When I woke up, my arm was wrapped up. The old man sat by my side.

"Welcome back."

Trying to be discrete, I groped around for Otis.

"Looking for your knife? I've put it away. It had many shades of red on it."

"Give it back to me."

"We don't allow weapons here."

"We?"

"About 120 people here."

"What are you guys? Some sort of a religious cult? Newsflash, God's dead."

He smiled.

A bunch of huts around a clearing. There stood a clay figurine with its face was covered.

He smiled mischievously. "Prayer time. It's safe here till you are healed."

The people gathered and went up to the figurine in pairs. They raised the cloth covering the face, looked at it, hugged their partner and went back. From this angle, I couldn't see the face.

I also noticed a few kids and old people. Maybe this place was safe after all.

I gathered my things.

"Come see our god before leaving."

"No need."

"Humour me. I saved your life."

"For a while. The world can't afford to leave us alive."

But I followed him.

He held my hand. We walked up to the figurine, and took off the veil.

I saw two faces. Mine, haggard and scarred. His, scarred but smiling.

"The world didn't end when the bombs fell. The world ended when humans decided that it was survival of the fittest. You called us a religious cult. We don't worship gods. We worship humans. If we can be human again, we can rebuild the world. All of us together."

Word Count - 300