Trapped

Chapter 1

September 30 2055

     "GET DOWN!" Tara screams. Holding her gun to her chest. Beside her Victoria ducks behind a dumpster.

"How many are there?!" Victoria screams.

"About eight!"

Around them the psychotic zombie-like civilians roamed the streets. Their hair tangled, eyes, bloodshot, and rib cage showing. They have pale skin and a limped walk. They might as well be considered dead. For they have lost all memories and conscience whatsoever.

It has been three years since the dome was put over the town. Three years of darkness, three years of starvation, and three years of what we call The Withering, a plague that strikes the weak and poor. The sunless skies, the malnourishment, the cold and the despair all feed into the formation of this wasting sickness causing the body to weaken, the skin wrinkle, the bones get brittle, the muscles waste away. Even the soul begins to die, causing the person to become an empty husk filled only with pain. The Withering is a slow death, and a terrible one.

There is a loud bang as Tara shoots a Zombie. Then another, and another, one after the other Tara shoots each. Putting the townspeople out of their misery. As each falls dead. An Erie science settles around the two girls.

Tori puts a hand on Tara's back as a comforting gesture. Tori's long, short, brown hair and tan skin are now lightened due to the lack of sunlight.

"Come on, let's go back to the others." She says.

Tara nods as they emerge from behind the dumpster. Guns in hand.

They step over the bodies as they walk out of the alley.

They make their way through the deserted town. Windows broken street lights are no longer

working. However, the battery-charged lanterns were set up by "The Survivors" , a group of people uninfected by the Plague. Tara and Tori joined The Survivors a few months after the dome was put over the town.

Tori was an old family friend of Tara's. She would visit once and a while when Tara was little. She had moved to Finstown a little bit before the dome.

Tara and Tori make their way through the abandoned streets. Around them the air was hot and humid making the dome almost unbearable at first, but over the years Tara has adapted. In the distance. There is a faint drilling sound. Familiar to her ears. She has heard it almost every day for three years. It's the sound of The Survivors trying to drill through the dome. It's a comforting noise. It's a sound that reminds her of the freedom that might come.

They soon approach The Survivors camp. A large wall is built around it in an attempt to isolated from The Withering. It's made of red brick. It is at least 13 feet tall with spikes at the top. It is sealed by large wooden doors. The wall is quite new; it was put up after the last epidemic of The Withering that killed half the remaining population.

Tara walks up to the door and does a series of knocks. There is a click as the Gate Guard opens it for them. The door creaks at the hinges, and scrapes against the ground.

Tara walks in. Not bothering to thank the guards. The base consists of tents, rows and rows of tents, each numbered. The tents are a midnight fog gray color with small rips and tears here and there. A few lights glow inside some. Others, dark and unattended.

Tara walks through the first aisle of tents walking with her head down and her gun strapped across her back. She sticks both her hands in the front pocket of her hoodie.

She turns into her tent. Number 11. She flicks on the hand torch lighting up the room. With a ghoulish blue glow. There are two pop up beds either side of the tent. Each with a white pillow and soft gray blanket. A box sits at the foot of each of the beds. They are made of a coppery metal with a steel latch. Bound by a key-lock. That is where Tara keeps her personal items she doesn't want stolen. A white tarp covers the ground. A chair is in the far left corner of the tent right next to the first bed. Sitting on that chair is Zach, her friend and assigned tent-mate.

"Look who finally decided to show up." Zach says with a smirk.

Tara rolls her eyes annoyed, "Your one to talk, you didn't even come home yesterday!" She says, throwing her arms up. "What were you doing? I know gate duty doesn't take that long, and were you just sitting in the dark this whole time?"

Zach was a good looking person. Not perfect, but decent looking. He has short shaggy, black hair that falls over his eyes partially. His nose is shaped like a triangle with a short rounded tip. He has pale skin and freckles. He smells of peppermint and cinnamon. His eyes are a bright green with blue tinted toward the pupil. He has a plain black T-shirt and black ripped jeans that are worn from the usage of them. He wears a brown leather watch on his left wrist. It doesn't work and yet he still wears it. Tara guesses it was his father's but he always pushes off the subject whenever Tara brings it up.

Zach's father died from the Withering two years ago. It crushed Zach, and ever since he's been different. He's been unfocused and often zones out.

"I have a life too." Zach says, crossing his arms. He still has a smirk on his face.

"I'm just saying, you are never here. You wouldn't be hanging out with Charlotte would you?" Tara raises an eyebrow in a teasing manner. She knows this is a gaslight for Zach. Tara had always suspected he had a crush on Charlotte but he always denied it.

"NO! I WAS NOT WITH CHARLOTTE!" Zach snaps.

"Shhhh!" Tara says giggling.

Tara walks over to her bed and sits down. The bed creaks at the springs as she shifts. She kicks off her boots. They fly haphazardly around the tent. She lays back against the mattress. Lifting her gun strap off her chest and leaning the gun against the wall next to her bed. She sighs covering her face with her hands.

"What's with you?" Zach says. "You look like someone ate your sharing of food." He says jokingly.

Tara groans. "Zach," she begins. Sitting up to face him. "Tomorrow is Tori's sacrifice ceremony.

Zach's face goes white as a ghost when she says that.

After a moment of silence a Tear falls down her cheek. It feels cold and sad. She wiped it away with one hand. But the unmistakable lump in her throat tells her more are coming.

Zach sees this and gets up from his chair. Walking over to her and sitting on the bed. It creaks under him from the weight. He sits there for a moment and Tara can see he is unsure of what to do. But after a moment of hesitation he pulls Tara into an embrace.

That seemed to cut the last string for Tara for she bursts into tears the cold wet droplets dampening her shirt. She hasn't cried in a while, for she thought it showed fear and weakness. But this time she couldn't contain it.

The Sacrifice Ceremony happens every time someone turns 17. The age of which the withering is developed. The earliest symptoms of The Withering are shortness of breath, vomiting, and bruising along the limbs. However the plague can also be spread by saliva of those infected. To prevent the withering from spreading, The survivors came up with a law that you must have at least one child by the time you turn 17. But on your seventeenth birthday you must be executed.

"Hey," Zach says quietly. "We knew this was coming. It happens to all of us. And her legacy will live on through her child, Addlynn."