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replied.
    “Like I’d accept anything from that asshole.”
    “That’s good. That’s great. Look, I don’t know how to say this in a way that will
make you believe me, but I got a letter from Damian that basically says the world
as we know it is over. I want you to come with my group.”
    “You’ll have to forgive me for not jumping for joy at an invitation to join your
survival team, but—”
    Kade could hear her moving around. One of the sounds was a noise every man knows;
the sound of a remote dropping on a coffee table. “Victoria?”
    “There is no news.”
    “What?”
    “None of the news channels are broadcasting. There’s nothing.”
    “I’m going to send you the address. If you do plan to come, pack a bag with food,
water, and any medical stuff you have.”
    “… okay.”
    “And drive straight there. Victoria, this is important. Whatever you do, do not stop
for anyone or anything. Understand?”
    “Yes.”
    “Hope to see you soon.”
    Kade hung up the phone and rounded up the few things he still needed. He continued
to call numbers while he moved his belongings to the bed. The only person who answered
was Lucas, who was already prepping his supplies.
    On the bed Kade set his go-bag, a shoe box, a book, two rifles, and his katana. He
owned no pistols because he was a terrible shot with them. Logically, if a threat
was ever too close for a rifle, then it was time for his katana. The amount of time
he spent training every week on the skills he was trying to perfect, he didn’t have
time for pistol training.
    One of his rifles was a .30-06 bolt action hunting rifle, while the other was a .22.
The small caliber rifle was what his father had used to teach Kade and his siblings
how to shoot. For that reason it always held sentimental value. Though he was a great
shot with the .22, he had to give Ashton credit for being able to outshoot him with
it, though he would never admit that to her. He still had the first target she bested
him on folded in his shoe box.
    The old shoe box stored his life’s letters and memorabilia. At some point he knew
he would lose his memory and wanted something to remind him of those he had loved.
This box had become his personal backup memory device. He took the book and placed
it inside of the shoe box.
    The book was a guide to surviving the Primal Age and rebuilding civilization, called The Doomsday Doctrine . This was the book that had hooked him on prepping. It was
a hobby that gave his otherwise empty life some form of meaning. He had even gone
so far as to make all of his friends read it in preparation for the hypothetical
Primal Age. His hope was that it would help them all find their primal selves more
quickly in the event of a cataclysm; Getting Primed, or Priming, as the book liked
to call the metamorphosis.
    Kade stuffed the box into his go-bag and then took his gear to the living room. Having
with him the items that were like longtime friends, he felt much more comfortable
stepping into the unknown of the Primal Age.
    He sat in the living room with the dog for a few minutes, looking around the house.
He was suddenly hit by the realization that he would never walk through this home
again. The memories held within these walls would now have to be carried with him.
Not just this house, but everything about his life until this moment would be left
in the past. The thought made him feel both naked and liberated at the same time.
    The rest of the group trickled in to the living room. Kade gave the .22 to Ashton
and the hunting rifle to Tiny, keeping the katana for himself.
    “We’ll make our way to Mick’s cruiser, drive to Old Yeller, and then caravan to
Lucas’s. Mick, lead the way,” Kade said.
    The four of them emerged from the house, moving in a diamond formation like migrating
geese, with Argos trotting beside Kade. Normally, traffic from the highway a few
miles away could be heard from Kade’s house, but on this morning the roadway was
silent. As they