Sarah Lyons Fleming Until The End Of The Worl... Apr 2026

Peter sat on the porch of the cabin, the wood groaning under his weight. In his lap lay a rusted hatchet and a sharpening stone. Scritch. Scritch. Scritch. The sound was the only thing keeping the silence of the woods from swallowing him whole.

"Just thinking about the odds," Peter said, not looking up. "We’ve outlasted the cities. We’ve outlasted the first few winters. But the walls are getting thinner, Nora." Sarah Lyons Fleming Until The End Of The Worl...

"Until we aren't." Peter finally looked at her. "The supplies in the valley are gone. The last run to the pharmacy nearly cost us Ben. We’re living on borrowed time." Peter sat on the porch of the cabin,

Both were on their feet in a second. Peter gripped the hatchet, the weight familiar and cold. Nora leveled her crossbow. They didn't exchange words; they didn't need to. In this world, love wasn't poetry or flowers. Love was a sharpened blade and a steady hand. Love was making sure the person standing next to you kept breathing for one more sunset. Scritch

If you want to focus on from the series (like Cassie or Nell)