A glint to the side caught her attention, and she grabbed the shard of glass, slicing her fingers in the process. Without time to think, she jabbed wildly at her assailant’s face.

Her would-be rapist screamed and rolled off her, clutching his bloody face.

Horrified at what she’d done but thanking her lucky stars, she ran for the Jeep and jumped in. Gunning the engine, she roared out of town, the haunting screams of the man ringing in her ears.

After that incident, Hannah never wanted to leave the house. But the thought of her sister going out for supplies in her place goaded her into action. She made several more trips to other nearby towns, and she never left her SUV without her gun. But her precaution proved unnecessary as she never saw another living being.

Spring passed and so did summer. Unable to figure out how to get more gas when the pumps stopped flowing, her trips out of town stopped. Their house was packed to the rafters with supplies. They kept the remaining gas for things like the generator and the chainsaw she hadn’t yet managed to start, but she kept trying.

Their new life while not horrible made her ache with loneliness. Sure, she loved her sister and uncle but, if she’d been alone, Hannah doubted she would have fought to survive. What did she have to look forward to? The world had died. The only two other living people she’d seen apart from her family had gone crazy. Years of being alone stretched in front of her. Never again to be loved or touched. She dreaded the day her battery stash ran out. Her handy-dandy pocket rocket wouldn’t last forever. A hysterical giggle bubbled inside her. How could she think of pleasuring herself when billions had died?

Masturbation became her last escape, sometimes the only thing that reminded her she was still alive. In the quiet of the night, she let her fingers dance over her flesh, and she remembered better days. Or, more specifically, days spent with Brody, her first and only love. Rugged, dark-haired, and blue-eyed. Just looking at him had always made her breath hitch and her panties damp. His face still dominated her dreams and erotic fantasies even though she continued to hate him for what he’d done. When she touched herself, she would pretend he lay in bed with her, his mouth and hands pleasuring her.