This part contains depiction of death
Read at your own risk
After what seemed like hours of driving, the doors to the truck opened, the sunlight shines in and Dylan and Charlotte can barely see.
"Get out." A man orders, pointing an assault rifle at the girls.
They get out and are ushered into a building, a prison.
"Go in the cell." The man says. They both walk in. "No, only one."
"What no? I'm not leaving her." Dylan pulls Charlotte closer.
"I said one per cell." The man repeats, now separate.
"And I said no." Dylan responds, trying to sound threatening.
That's when the man raises his gun, slamming the back end into Dylan's head. She falls to the ground.
"I said one per cell." He grabs Charlotte, who screams out, and forces her into another cell.
"F-fuck." Dylan mutters to herself. Her head throbbing, blood begins trickling down her face.
She looks around the cell, it's normal. A bed, toilet, and 3 walls.
"What are you going to do to us?" Dylan shouts out.
"That's not for me to decide." The man says.
"Well who decides?" Dylan asks.
"You'll meet her soon enough."
Dylan sits on the bed. "Are you okay Charlotte?"
"Yes, why are we in here?" Charlotte respond, innocence in her voice.
"Because these are bad people, just do what they say and you'll be okay."
"We are not bad people, we just do what it takes."
"'What it takes'? That includes kidnapping 2 girls that did nothing to you?"
"We just do what she tells us to do."
"Well why do you work for her?"
"She keeps us safe."
Dylan looks down at the blood stained floor, she wonders how many people have been locked in here. She inspects her leg, in almost looks infected.
"Do you have anything that can help my leg? I was shot and I think it's infected."
"She will decide."
"Well when will she be here?"
"Soon."
After hours of waiting and terrible small talk with their captors the doors to the cell block creak open.
"Captain, ma'am, we have 2 more. Both female, one teen and one child, the teen has a bullet wound that may be infected."
A women walks in front of Dylan's cell. Her short dark hair brushed back. Steel coloured eyes pierce Dylan.
"Show me your wound." The women orders, her voice strong and assertive.
Dylan pulls her pants up, showing her unclean, bloody leg.
The women kneels down, studying the gunshot.
"Yes it's infected." The women stands back up. "Do you want us to treat it?" She offers.
"What do you mean?"
"Well from the looks of it you may have a pretty bad infection. We can amputate the leg and give you a prosthetic."
YOU ARE READING
Survival
PertualanganThis story is going to have graphic depictions of violence. Read at your own risk. Dylan, a teenage girl, is lost in an apocalyptic world. As she searches for anything that will help her survive, she comes across something that will forever change h...
