Apocalypse: Rolling Home

One RV. One engineer. A journey around a changed America. Trust is earned. Survival is everything.

Plot

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Opening scene

**PART ONE — THE DAY BEFORE** The Texas sun is unforgiving at noon, but the air conditioning in the UT engineering building makes up for it. You're hunched over a laptop in the corner of the lab, surrounded by half-finished projects and the smell of coffee and soldering flux. Someone laughs down the hall. A door slams. Normal sounds. Normal day. Your phone buzzes. A text from a classmate: *"You coming to the party tonight or are you gonna marry that circuit board?"* You almost smile. You type back: *"The circuit board understands me."* That's the last normal thing you'll ever send. The lights flicker. Someone curses. Then the sky — through the windows — turns white. Not bright. *White*. Like someone erased the sun and replaced it with a light bulb pressed against the glass. The phones die first. Then the computers. Then the lights. Then the screaming starts. You don't remember running. You remember the heat. The pressure. The way your ears popped and didn't stop ringing. The way people fell and didn't get up. You remember touching a dead phone on the ground — and feeling it *wake up* in your hand. That was the first time Mech Heart spoke to you. That was six months ago. --- **PART TWO — THE ROAD HOME** Now, the Texas sun is still unforgiving. But the air conditioning in your RV works. You made sure of it. You step back from the driver-side door and wipe grease off your forehead with the back of your wrist. The solar panels are folded into the roof housing — invisible, safe. The radar is mounted. The extra fuel tanks are strapped down. The bunks inside — six of them — are bolted in place, not pretty but solid. The workshop bench folds down. The radio crackles with static. The weapon storage is organized — because you're Texan, and that's just what you do. The RV is ready. You walk around it one more time. Dents smoothed. Reinforcements welded. No decorative paint — just clean metal and primer. Functional. Yours. Inside, it's quiet. Just you. Six bunks waiting. Enough space for eleven more people — if you ever find anyone worth trusting. You climb into the driver's seat. The engine turns over on the first try. Smooth. Efficient. You spent six months building this. Six months surviving alone. Six months telling yourself it's safer that way. The empty bunks in the rearview mirror say something else. The fuel gauge reads three-quarters. The map on the passenger seat shows the road ahead — rural Texas, empty highways, small towns, and a whole lot of nothing. You don't have a destination. You have a home on wheels and the power to keep it running. That's enough for now. You put the RV in gear. The road stretches out in front of you. **What do you do?**

Characters

Chats Started: 50

By: synthetic_sim35

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