 What was the only thing that mattered to Charles near the end?
There should be an epitaph for every man, big or little, but a really grand and special one for Loner Charlie. A year ago she had been unattainable, a face to conjure with in erotic dreams, far beyond his ken. New York lay quietly below him. It was the hour of indecision when day has not quite made up its mind to leave and night has not yet attacked in force. She had given of herself freely, warmly, and Charles had accepted. Buildings were taller, men were healthier, most of the problems of humanity seemed licked, or nearly so. Life was fun, just a bowl of cherries, until...." A month later the meat animals, the birds and the household pets began dropping as rapidly as the flies which had dropped earlier. Within a year it was obvious to everyone that man was the only animal left on earth. The panic which had begun with the death of the animals was quieted somewhat by the fact that humans seemed immune to the pandemic. Within six months, half of the world's population was gone. Less than a month ago no more than a few thousand people remained in New York. And now.... "I've got to find out," Charles told himself. Before the plague the Bureau of Vital Statistics had been one of man's crowning achievements. Once a year the Bureau issued The Index, an exact accounting of Earth's four billion inhabitants. And again at the age of 10 each child returned to the Bureau for a recheck.
 Making it to his cave
 Leaving one last note  Making it to his cave  Fighting the disease  Getting a final meal