After we moved outside, we sat around the fire at night and told stories. There wasn't much else to do. The stories were comfort in this scary new world. We were used to noise that demanded our attention, and now there was nothing. It was too quiet.
At first, the stories tried to make sense of what happened. The stories repeated what we heard. There were a lot of theories because people naturally try to explain bad news. If you can explain it, then it won't happen again or, if it does, not to you.
Soon enough, we quit trying to understand who or what caused the world to stop because survival became a full time job.
The world had gone to hell. Hell was our new normal.
In the night stories around the fires, we fought off fear. We prayed. We faced the truth. Hope seemed foolish and dangerous. We prayed some more. We planned our escape. We waited and watched and waited some more.
Our world was going, going, almost gone. Until. He arrived, and we decided to quit watching and waiting for the right time to leave. We would not run. We would not hide. We would stay and fight.
We didn't know it yet, but we learned it soon enough.
If not for the prince, all would be lost.
YOU ARE READING
Eliot Strange and the Prince of the Apocalypse
General FictionEliot and her best friend, Steven, are teenage survivors of the end of the world. Eliot's dad is a world-renowned survivalist, and he taught her all the rules. After weeks of waiting for Eliot's missing mother to come home, Eliot and Steven are read...
