4:36 pmby
PascalComment by K3Master: They watched as the last ships pulled out of the harbor and disappeared over the horizon. For whatever reasons, they had made the decision to remain behind. To try and eke out an existence in the now blasted and dying lands that they had called home all their lives.
The evacuation of the continent had been a long and terrible ordeal. The survivors and refugees had poured into the port in droves at first, overwhelming the disaster response teams and emergency medical teams that had set up there. The ships had come in as fast as they were able, and had left just as quickly, for remaining too long was to risk infection and disaster.
Over the next few weeks the flow of people dropped off significantly, and in the end, though there were many, there were also far too few. Millions had lived in the lands near this port, millions, but only a few hundred thousand had eventually arrived and were sent off to try and find a new beginning across the sea. It had all happened so quick, and nobody really understood why or how, just that they had to get away, for inland was a scene of devastation, death, and horror.
The three watched the last ship sink into the distance, then stood and hugged each other close. With a deep breath they turned and began to walk away from the sea, from safety. This was their land, and broken and diseased though it was, they were not about to give it up.
Slinging their packs on their backs, and a rifle over each shoulder they, like the ships, disappeared into the night.