Gray Reach (Under Severe Editing)

Part One: Beginnings

I hide myself under a old rust bucket of a car as a surveyor fly's by. Looking for stragglers like me who have so far managed to go unseen and out of sight. The stench of oil burns my lungs and leaves a fowl taste in my mouth. The surveyor hovers over the car and slows down. My breath hitches in my throat becoming lost in silence. Slowly he pick up speed and fly's away my heart which felt like it was hammering in my throat slows and my breathing resumes its pattern.

I stay under that rust bucket for five more minutes before I decide it's safe to move, the fresh air numbs the burn from the fumes as I run.

Running

Why does this seem like the only thing I can do?

Move fast, don't be seen, don't be caught. Those are like my life motto's right there. But, I'd rather live this life then go to the gray. A place where you only leave once the world deems you, in other words worthy.

The gray is mostly a taboo subject for a lot of people but from the sparse information I've gathered about it being there is like waiting for someone outside of the gray who has already been there 'hires' you in a way, they would monitor what you are like in a place of no laws and if you are exceptional the 'hire' you into jobs that are needed, you don't get a say it just happens and trust me with slaves now being legal under the new law there are some pretty bad jobs out there.

I find a loose window and make my way into what seems to have been a office, I take a quick look around which didn't take long seeing that the room was about the size of a large closet which with the desk was slightly claustrophobic. Now moving on to the next part, making it secure. Pushing the old desk to block the door I flip it onto it's side to give me a little more room, then I start boarding up the window by breaking one of the chair legs off and sliding it into the handle as a sort of lock then cover the window with a sheet to prevent light from escaping the room.

I start a small fire not enough to be seen or make a lot of smoke but enough to warm my hands a I eat a stale piece of bread I got from a trash bin before that surveyor flew by. My throat is rough and dry from my recent lack of water. "I'll have to go get some tomorrow." I mutter, I toss the crust of the bread away due to it's harshness on my throat and the fact that it's rock hard.

As the fire dies out my energy seems to go with it as I fade into a dreamless sleep.

-Hey guys so that way the start of my new book The Gray I'm sorry I've been gone for so long and I hope you like this and hopefully ill be updating soon!