Missed Day 6? Read it here.

The Road That Goes Nowhere

Another sunrise, another overambitious plan. Today, I decide I’m going to follow Coastal Highway all the way to its mysterious conclusion. Maybe I’ll find a new transition zone. Maybe I’ll find a wrecked truck with some rifle rounds and a can of dog food. Maybe I’ll find peace.

Spoiler: it’s a rockfall.

But I don’t know that yet. I set out early, dragging my increasingly reluctant survivor across the snow. First stop: the bridge just beyond the garage. It’s held up surprisingly well for the end of civilization. On the far side, I spot a car, and inside it—a note. Someone left a tip about a hidden cache near the garage. Tempting. Very tempting. But I decide to keep pushing forward for now. Eyes on the prize.

The road gets quieter. No wolves, no wind. Just snow crunching underfoot and the occasional groan from my guy who’s still mad about the 40kg backpack I’m making him haul. Eventually, the highway ends not with loot or glory, but a literal wall of boulders. No secret passage, no helpful signage. Just a dead end.

Rifles, Ice, and Intrusive Memories

With the highway goal dashed, I backtrack. But I’m not going to waste the day. I decide to poke around under the bridge I crossed earlier—because that’s a normal survival instinct now. Good thing I do, too.

Tucked under the support beams, half-buried in snow, is Barb’s rifle. No note, no explanation. Just the long-forgotten tool of someone else’s survival story. I take it, check the condition (not bad), and immediately feel 30% more powerful. Rifle > revolver. Every time.

Feeling cocky, I veer off the road and make my way across the ice toward Jackrabbit Island. The ice creaks and pops in that threatening way it always does, but I push forward, ignoring the very obvious signs that I am not welcome here. My screen does that “you’re about to die” wobble. I shuffle back to solid ice just in time. Somehow, I don’t fall in. Survival roulette wins again.

The Jackrabbit Hoard

I reach the house on Jackrabbit Island and decide to use it as a makeshift drop zone. I ditch the revolver, some food, a spare lantern, and whatever else I can live without. The rifle stays with me, obviously.

Loot-wise, Jackrabbit delivers. I find:

• A skill book for rifles (Barb would be proud)
• Another lantern (my third—clearly I have a problem)
• More food, because Coastal Highway is just one big buffet if you know where to look

My inventory’s still ridiculous, but a little lighter. Temporarily.

Seagulls and Sketchy Ice

On the way back, I decide to risk a little beachcombing. I hug the shoreline, watching for anything shiny poking out of the snow—and get rewarded. A couple of arrows just sitting on the ice, half-frozen but perfectly usable. I swipe them up and head for Misanthrope Island.

As I get close, I see birds circling. That means one thing: a carcass. The ice between me and it looks about as stable as my guy’s calorie intake, but I edge closer anyway. It’s a deer, still fresh. I manage to harvest the meat and pull back without falling in. That makes two ice victories today, which honestly feels greedy.

Inside the house on Misanthrope, I find—surprise—more food and clothing. Nothing game-changing, but enough to keep the “loot goblin” part of my brain happy. I stow what I can, then head back toward the garage with a torch in hand in case wolves decide they’re hungry for man meat.

A Spark in the Static

Back at the garage, something’s different. There’s a glow. A hum. The computer whirs to life.

The aurora has arrived.

It’s my first one in this run, and it’s just as eerie as I remember. The air crackles, the sky pulses green, and the electronics—dormant and useless for days—suddenly flicker back to life. It’s beautiful in a “should I be worried?” sort of way.

I don’t have time to dwell on it. I’ve got meat to cook, water to boil, and coffee to brew. Lots of coffee. My survivor’s probably 80% caffeine at this point. I do my best diner cook impression, juggling pots and pans, and by the end of it the place smells like scorched venison and instant espresso. Not the worst way to end a day.

I eat what I can, dump the rest into storage, and crawl into bed. The aurora flickers through the window as I drift off.

Final Thoughts

Day 7 gave me a rifle, some arrows, a hidden cache hint, and a front-row seat to the aurora. Sure, I nearly fell through the ice twice and carried half my body weight in gear the whole way, but it was worth it.

Still alive. Still hoarding. Still hallucinating predators.