Shifters

Prologue

A little girl sat with her parents, watching their battered old television. The grainy image showed a huge wall, flanked by rows upon rows of soldiers. The girl was barely paying attention, her hands busy playing with her ragged doll. Her parents' faces were full of concern, fear in their eyes. For several minutes, nothing happened. Then, the picture on the screen shifted. A huge gate began to descend, closing the gap between the government and the world they were supposed to protect. The crowd of soldiers shifted and the camera zoomed out. A citizen had broken through the line of soldiers holding the rioters back from the gates. The lone man charged down the road toward the huge gate. Then, his body convulsed and fell to the ground, a puddle of blood quickly spreading from his prone form. The mother gasped and clapped a hand over the little girl's eyes. The little girl squirmed. The soldiers lowered their guns and turned back to the gate. A moment later, the gate slammed shut and  the screen went dark. The Fall had begun.

Five years later, the girl was running through the streets, a bundle clutched tightly to her chest. She rounded a corner and skidded to a halt. A crowd had formed, blocking the whole town square. Climbing up on top of a crate she dragged over, she peered out over the crowd. What she saw froze her with terror. Her father lay on the ground, a wound on his forehead oozing blood. A government soldier stood above him, gun pointed at the man's face. The girl watched as her father struggled to his knees.

"...sitting behind your pretty little walls, while the rest of us are left out here to rot! Filthy pampered mutts, you all are! It'd serve you right if somebody found a way to kill all of you off! And I'd be standing right behind them, watching each of you die, and smiling, knowing that you ruined this world and you'll pay for it with your lives and the lives of your families and loved ones! That is, if any of you have hearts at all!" her father growled at the soldier, his eyes burning with hate.

The guard stood there for a second as if waiting to see if the man would go on. Then he raised the gun a fraction of an inch and pulled the trigger. The girl lost her footing and fell. Her head slammed into the concrete, the sound of the gunshot ringing in her ears.

The Fallen. It felt like a suitable name to her. Her mother had died of cancer a year before her father was shot by a government soldier. Fallen from hope, happiness, and any chance of a good life. They shipped her off to a government-sponsored girls' home. It seemed that was the only thing the government was doing to help the people anymore. Providing a home for kids after killing their parents. Time lost its meaning to the girl, until one day.