Survival Skills Regular Show Novels & Stories

comforted Xavia as she handed them to the child. Outstretching his hand to take a packet of cookies, he then opened the packet before handing it to Xavia and Zivon while saying, “Let’s share.” Upon hearing that, Zivon—who was still trying to start the fire—sternly replied, “I didn’t eat or drink for four days while undergoing survival training in the wilderness, you know? With that said, I’ll survive the night without food and water. You can just share that with Aunt.” This made Xavia remember Keith’s statement about Zivon having suffered more than anyone else. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Xavia was prompted to say, “I’m not hungry either. Just finish up those cookies and keep yourself we

It was easy to defend and hard to attack, and supplies were plentiful. With Ruth around, every zombie within a five-kilometer radius had been wiped out. While other survivors were killing each other over a piece of moldy bread, I was soaking in a bath with Evian mineral water. While others trembled in fear during zombie hordes, I was ordering Ruth to peel grapes for me. “Honey, these grapes are really hard to peel. My hands are getting sticky.” I sighed dramatically. Ruth was in the middle of repairing the villa’s outer wall. When she heard me, she immediately stopped working. She walked over, washed her hands, picked up the grapes, and carefully peeled off the skins before feeding them into

Survivors in the Dark Damien’s sharp voice cut through the roaring wind: “Check for injuries—move!” I coughed sharply, forcing back the burning cold in my lungs as Vanessa hauled me up, steady despite the chaos around us. “We’re not dead yet,” she growled. Kyle struggled with the damaged console, desperately bypassing the main power grid, fighting for emergency control. “Engines fried—manual override's gone!” he shouted, panic creeping into his voice. A New Enemy Emerges Suddenly—

The humidity was making me sweat, which only made me thirstier. By noon, we had found nothing but two semi-decent coconuts and a lot of mosquito bites. We trekked back to the beach, our feet dragging in the sand. I sat down under the shade of our tree, feeling defeated. "I thought you said you were good at this," I muttered, my voice sounding small. Mr. Coop looked at me, his jaw tightening. "I said I spent time in the wilderness, Intern. I didn't say I was a magician. Survival isn't about finding everything on the first day. It's about not quitting when you find nothing."

"You did what?" "I have skills my family doesn't know about. Ethan taught me to be paranoid about threats. He didn't realize I'd turn those skills on him." Jessica leaned forward. "Industrial heating for negative forty degrees. Water purification. Blast doors. You're building a survival shelter. The question is why." Maya studied Jessica. Twenty-six, beautiful, but up close she could see the cracks—dark circles, bitten nails, tension from years carrying unbearable weight. "If I tell you the truth," Maya said carefully, "what happens next?"

“Kyle had four girls that he was training to be female versions of himself. Brett is the only one alive.” We could all read between the lines. “Still don’t see how that is Brett’s fault.” “After the shock therapy. Kyle put them through a mental challenge. None of the girls could shift at that age. They had to survive outside… in the cold and next to a rogue camp.” As he talked, I could feel Brett’s heart speed up. The panic she felt, the fear and realization told me was remembering what she had forgotten. “Brett somehow managed to save all three girls. She even impressed Kyle with how smart she was. Digging an igloo and living off of worms. The rogues never smelled them. However, the next mo

Then he raised his voice, letting it carry over the crowd, through the minds and ears of every broken wolf still standing: “Anyone who is able to move—check on your neighbor. If you were hit with wolfsbane, move toward this side, here by the oak line. If you can walk, you can help. Go now.” Movement rippled through the battered survivors. Slow, unsteady, but determined. Simon turned back to Doc. “Do what you can. Loria will be here soon.” “I’ll keep them alive,” she promised. He nodded once and stepped back, eyes scanning the horizon. Our Luna was coming. And with her—hope. Or vengeance. Maybe both.

she dragged a heavy branch and left it on the pile. "Watch and learn, my dear." He searched until he found a log with a crack in it. Finding some dried up leaves and fine sticks he put the log on it. Then he took a sturdy stick, stuck it in the groove and began to move it up and down. "I haven't done this in such a long time." Christine watched him with interest. "Are you like Bear Gryllis or something?" Who would have thought her boss would have survival skills.

He traced a small circle around my eye sockets with the laser. "See how her pupils are blown wide? There's nothing in her expression except thirst. That's raw, unfiltered survival instinct. We've been living in civilization for so long, most of us have forgotten what that even looks like." Raw survival instinct? I was crouched in that corner, drinking filthy water, thinking about nothing except whether drinking a little less might mean a little more for Mom and Dad. Love and sacrifice were all I knew. And to them, that was animal instinct?

“Academy officials have reported a level of discontent with our candidates’ survival skills. Apparently, we’ve been sending them a bunch of cadets who can beat each other bloody but who fall apart after a single night in the wild. So, over the next forty-eight hours we’re splitting you up and sending you out into the woods in teams to test your survival skills as part of your candidacy ranking.” He continues speaking, laying out the rules as our little group looks anxiously around at each other.Luca curses under his breath, tossing his spoon down on his tray. “No survival skills?” Jesse asks him, a little pity in his voice – because he and Rafe, at least – and me, to an extent – have been ca