My parents were on a flight from Manila to Los Angeles. They went to Los Angeles a few times a year for business, it was nothing new. By this time I was living in a dorm inside my university. It was March, school was almost over and therefore I braced myself for three months with my parents at home when I saw the news on the TV. A lunatic in a huge truck drove in front of the plane, causing a crash and a huge explosion. A lot of people walked out of the plane unharmed, some walked out with injuries. Some, like my parents, didn't survive.

Inheritance. That's how I became a millionaire at 20. Even through emotional turmoil and the thought that I don't need to work another day of my life, I still finished my studies. Two years later, I graduated at 22 with a pre-law degree and ready to go back to school to continue my studies. Circumstances led to me halting my education, and being in a situation where all I'm left to do is write down my memoirs, clinging on to hope that someday someone would read this and that somehow somebody would understand what happened to us.

I don't know how Susana and I ended up talking about what we were doing before the world ended, but a few weeks into staying at this luxurious mansion, we ended up being as emotional as humanity allows us to be.

We were at the patio, enjoying a breakfast of two cans of corned beef on stylish bamboo furniture when we got to talking. First it was the usual talk we would have. What we think is happening, what we think is going on outside the walls, how long we think our supplies are going to last before we have to go outside. I don't remember how the conversation ended up with me talking about how my parents died. I'd like to believe Susana simply asked me about it, but she's not exactly the one to ask about other people's pasts, and I'm not exactly one for sharing things about my personal life.

"A millionaire at 20," Susana remarked, even though I'm sure her parents have a will that assures her future as well. "Why did you still want to study? You could have taken your parents' company and you'd be richer than you are now."

"I never had a stomach for business and all that. I was going to be a lawyer, you know. I just finished my pre-law this March," I explained. "What's your story?"

"I'm a sophomore. Architecture. My father hasn't come home in weeks, so I'm assuming the worst," she explained. If she was grieving, she didn't show it. Her face was always expressionless, even during the few times we were under pressure.

"Where's the rest of your family?"

"I have three siblings. I'm the third child. My older brother and sister are in Canada with my French-Canadian mother." Even though her face was expressionless I couldn't help but notice something in her voice.

"What about your other sibling?"

"She studies at…" Susana stopped. She looked away from me. I found it, that something in her voice. It was something close to sadness. "I should have gone out. I should have looked for her. We go to the same university."

She wasn't crying. Her face was still inexpressive. I was wrong, that something in her voice wasn't sadness: it was guilt. Her voice wasn't even trembling. She'd already forgotten about going after her father, and now she's forgotten about going after a sister who was within distance of us.

"What's she studying?" I asked as thoughts of bravely rescuing her sister now flowing through my mind.

"Architecture, like me, we were going to start our own firm."

"Maybe we should talk about something else?" I asked, trying to make her feel better.

"Yeah, okay," she said, clearing her throat. "You ever have a relationship?"

"Yes," I had been dreading that question, but I wanted to be nice. It wasn't like we were going back to talking about her family.

"How long did it last?"

"Four years." I kept my answers short and discreet. Susana wasn't going to find out anything she didn't ask, even though I'm sure she's going to ask everything I'm dreading of answering.

"Why did it end?"

I went quiet. I didn't want to answer it, but it seemed like telling the truth was the only way to get her mind off her guilt.

"She died." Her eyebrows were raised, she went silent. I finally got to see what her face would look like when she was shocked. I gave her a small smile as I cleaned up the plates. It was a good thing the water was still running even though when we drank we always added some chlorine just in case (we had a lot of chlorine).

I didn't see her until sometime in the afternoon. I took a nap, so I assumed she went out for our daily patrol to look for supplies. We were in the garage. We always kept the garage door open (the chances of car theft at this time are very low) for easy access.

Then I got to thinking. I went back to seeing that car a few weeks ago and about how it was able to run through them without any problem. Maybe we could do what Romero did in Dawn of the Dead. Hopefully it won't just run over them, with any luck it would also keep them out and keep me and Susana safe inside.

"You want to try something?" I asked Susana.

"Try what?"

It should be easy to turn the car into a bulldozer. There were literally hundreds of cars littered around the neighbourhood, most of them are already empty of gas because we've siphoned it all off. It would be easy to turn the cars into spare parts for the "bulldozer" I'm going to build. Yeah, I decided to call it a bulldozer.

I was definitely getting attached to Susana. All chances point to the fact that her sister was dead and that if we went over there to try and rescue her, we would be killed ourselves. But emotion makes a person act irrationally. It's why I don't like getting attached. The one time I got attached to another person, she died – my parents died soon after. I know it's illogical to think that I'm the cause of their deaths, but it shouldn't be a coincidence that I'm the only person remaining in my family. No aunts or uncles, no cousins, no significant other. Then, Susana came along and it changed everything.