The Days After

The "real" world

Everything was different. There was a prevailing sense of hopelessness that permeated everything down to the atoms in the faint breeze that whisked by the structures outside. The world that existed before was nothing but a dream. The color palette of the vibrant community and bustling town, filled with loving families, had disappeared. The color was sucked out of the world, and everything was blanketed in shades of characterless grey and dull blacks. Nobody ever cracked jokes or smiled. The seasons all became nonexistent, and the world became one long winter except it was ash, not snow, perpetually falling from above. The world before never existed.

Grace was 17, and as far back as she could remember, this was the way life has always been. Nobody really lived here. They all just existed. Scavenging for food, living in dilapidated housing or abandoned buildings, and being alert in case the black army decided to show up. This world was devoid of hope.

Grace sighed. "Gotta get something to eat."

She rolled over out of the makeshift bed, fully dressed, grabbed her bookbag, and headed to the stairwell. There was rickety railing and missing stairs, so it took some acrobatics to get to the bottom. Grace liked it that way, so nobody could ever sneak in on her while she slept. Plus, she was a light sleeper, so even a small disturbance in the airflow pattern would wake her up.

When she finally got to the bottom of the staircase, she removed the bags of sand in front of the door and proceeded to unlock the eight different locks.

Grace opened the door. "One way in, one way out." She mumbled to herself as she always did.

The street was a little noisier than usual, but this was a market day. The one day a week, people set up shop in the main square to trade goods and services. Growing your own food wasn't an option because the soil was poisonous. Everything edible was made by machines, and nutrients were stuffed into a protein loaf. Water was at a premium because it was so hard to come by, and the Black Army hoarded most of it.

Grace saw the market as a necessary evil because she hated coming to this mass gathering of people. Too many eyes. Too open. Too many voices.

"Seen a newcomer today!"
"Water for sale!"
"Lookin' for a handyman!"
"Food for tools! Anyone?"
"Hey, I got some tools!"

Then someone grabbed Grace's leg.  When Grace looked down, it became clear she wasn't in the right mind. She was wearing goggles. Her hair was fully exposed to the ash, she wore ripped pants for a shirt and a shirt for pants. She was drooling, her fingernails were haggard, and she was on the ground in the middle of the market. People had been stepping on or over her all day.

"Please help me! I haven't had no water in 2 days. My family is dying left and right!" The woman screamed at her.
Grace snatched her leg back. "You're gonna get hurt doin' stuff like that," then she paused "where's your family now?"
The woman pointed. "Oh, just up the road there,"
"Okay, how's about I go there and see how much everyone needs this week? That way you don-"
"No! Just get me some water!" She interrupted.

Grace stared at the woman for a moment. Something was off about her. She was scared. Not of Grace, but of whatever was waiting for her back where she lived. Grace noticed the markings on her stomach and knew she had to help this woman. She was in a bad situation.

"Do you need help?" Grace asked.

The look in Grace's eyes let the woman know that she understood what was going on. She looked terrified.

Grace knelt, and the woman shed a silent tear.

"There are six of them, and they've got my kids. If I don't do exactly as they say, they'll do awful things to my two boys! I don't know what else to do." She whispered.
"Point to the building again."