The Zodiac

Prologue

March 7

Thunder rolled over the sky and shook the ground with its roar. Rain pelted the thick canopy of the trees in savage duration. Figures became visible with the flashes of white light.

Children, adults, and elders fleeing for their lives.

Sirens and colored lights began to come from the forest from which they ran. The people whispered as they came to the forest's edge and reluctantly split. The elders would distract the pursuers by deviating from the adults and children. The children could only watch in horror as their grandparents exchanged rushed good-byes and scurried of along the tree-line, never to be seen by them again.

The rain became harsher as they ran. Harder and harder still until it stung. Every time they thought they had lost the pursuers, lights again flare and sirens wail. They were broken, beaten, and sore, but survived long enough to find a cave after finally losing the lights.

The children cried.

I'm tired.

I'm hungry.

Where are we?

Where is Grandma and Grandpa?

When are we going home?

The parents worried.

How are we going to get out of this?

Are our kids going to live through this?

The 3 teens, Lyn, Gracia, and Adrian, sat quietly together near the back.

Lyn was drawing in the dirt with her fingers. Her thin dishwater-blonde hair covered her dark blue eyes with her thin frame glasses reflecting the lightning outside. She wore a dark jacket, navy blue jeans, and a black spaghetti strap. A sea-green thin-fabric flannel was peaking out from the hastily packed backpack on her back. Her sneakers were covered in mud and clay. 

Gracia was reading a recovered book from her collection. The moonlight illuminated her braided honey-brown hair and chocolate eyes as well as her book's pages. Lightning glared her dark sycamore framed glasses. Her gray button up wool shirt with a light red undershirt was useful in the cool weather, but cumbersome in the rain. She wore beige skinny jeans and black converse.

Adrian winding his small music box and letting play. The rift of the silver music box echoed through the air as he adjusted his leather jacket, black as his midnight hair. It was groomed into a grown out crew cut and his face was only tainted by a long, thin scar running horizontally on his left cheek. His green eyes were in stark contrast with his dark clothes; black cut up jeans and combat boots.

Hours pass before the rain retreats,

but as the rain dissipated...

the lights returned.

<<<<<<<{-}>>>>>>>

Yay I did something!

I'm proud of myself. ;)