Hold on tight, Sam." He puts me in a choke hold. "Ahhh," I gasp. "Not that tight.

I am the one, Not Running, Not Staying, But FACING

Prayers and promises. The one his sister made to him. The unspoken one I made to my sister. Prayers are promises, too, and these are the days of broken promises.

And if humanity is the last war, then I am the battlefield.

But if I'm it, the last of my kind, the last page of human history, like hell I'm going to let the story end this way. I may be the last one, but I am the one still standing. I am the one turning to face the faceless hunter in the woods on an abandoned highway. I am the one not running but facing. Because if I am the last one, then I am humanity. And if this is humanity's last war, then I am the battlefield.

There are times when fear is not our enemy. There are times when fear is our truest, sometimes only, friend.

Human beings are remarkably resilient. When you think about it, our species has been teetering upon the edge of the existential cliff since Hiroshima. In short, we endure.