Would this be the day he finally summoned up the nerve to end it all? The previous 247 days hadn't been, but every man has his breaking point.
It didn't have to be today or for several thousand todays yet to come. The dome was secure, with fusion power that would last forever. The replication terminals could sustain twenty people for over a decade...far more than would ever be needed.
He'd watched his men die one by one, the same way the research team had. The alien microbe was no respecter of age, gender or capability. All too soon, he was left alone, unable to explain how the contagion had begun or why it had left him unaffected.
In the end, he abandoned the last vestiges of his world and strode naked into the forest primeval of a strange world. Inevitable death in the embrace of the unknown promised to be more desirable than the bitter solace of living on borrowed time.
This story was written for Science Fiction Fantasy Saturday Snippet. This is an ongoing weekly forum for genre pieces with a length of ten lines or less.