The wreckage of the world (W.I.P)

Chapter 1: The runaway

Dust pollinates the earth, as the toxic polluted breeze sweeps the grains of sand and decay from the floor, carelessly tossing them around before scattering them around the wreckage of the world; destroyed by man. As the wind carries the last breaths of dying shell-shocked soldiers and innocent citizens, caught up in the catastrophe, it brushes past the carnage of desolate wasteland and makes its way over to the once enemy territory.

'Destruction, chaos, genocide, once filled the city of Chayoné; not long before that, joy, laughter and fun did too. Now it is a place of ruin and lifelessness. A constant reminder that no one can ever really 'win' a war - no matter what anyone says. Lives will be lost; Lives that meant something. Uniqueness, personalities, that now have been made non existent and no longer are a thought in anyone's mind but mine. It seems like yesterday to some. Others aren't that old, like me for example. I stare hopelessly everyday at the scene, trying to picture, what it was like; Corpses spread out like corn seeds across the field; Consistent earpiercing noises, almost deafening. But no matter how hard I try to be there, I can't even fully imagine i can only just scratch the surface. And I thank goodness every day that I can't.'

The words on that page couldn't have been more true. He remembered them as if they were imprinted on the back of his eyes - carved into his mind and recited them every time he went out into the waste land to try to commemorate and pay respects to those who died trying to fight for a better future.

"Samuel? What on earth are you doing? Come back here right this instant," Sam dragged his dirt covered feet and rolled his ocean blue eyes as his Aunt Cleo screamed at him to get back into the city. She - like most - disapproved of dwelling on the past. Anyone who had grown up in Saprad city was taught that 'we are the future and the sooner you forget the past the better future we will have'. Everyday at roll call they would make every pupil recite the motto the very foundation of the city was built upon. But Samuel was always intreeged and, more than that, angry at the decisions made by the last generation. He believed in learning from the past, rather than moving on and forgetting. A healthy balance of all three was needed. Learn from the mistakes, move on looking to the future, and NEVER forget.

"Get a move on and hurry, its only a matter of time before..."

Suddenly, out of nowhere, bullets were Skimming against the top of Sam's head, back and basically anywhere that was easy to aim at from a distance with a crappy roguer's gun- so basically your chest, head and, if you're unlucky, butt.
"Get to the gates," yelled Tom. Samuel picked up his pace, and before he knew it his blood igniting adrenaline and racing through his body. He could feel his veins bulging out of his skin, throbbing and boiling, like his body was taking his fear, sweat and blood, and turning it into a chemical mixture that mutated his genes creating the perfect formulae for a super human. Tom returned fire, as Sam dived through the gate and into the city at last.

"Shut the gates," Tom yelled, still armed and shooting at random things that he thought he saw move, even if it was in his imagination, he couldn't risk the lives of every citizen in there. Better safe than sorry.

"What the hell were you thinking? You could of got yourself killed, I'm warning you Sam, you pull a stunt like that again and I'll leave you out there to rot and get eaten by those rouge scum," and he knew she meant every word. Aunt Cleo was always like that. She cared, but only enough to save your life once or twice, or to feed you, only as long as you paid rent. Sam gave her a quick glance and smiled, to let her know he understood, before letting his arms give way so I was just lying there as he panted frantically to try and get his breath back. When He finally caught his breath after 2 seconds... Fine, after a minute, Sam looked back up to say thank you, but it was too late. Aunt Cleo was gone. Because he didn't want to look like he was catching flies, and he had already opened my mouth, all Sam got out was "Thanks, Tom,"

Tom grinned at Sam before replying, "She's right though, you need to stay in the city. You haven't got that long before you leave school then you can complete your hunter or guard course and you can explore all you want out in the ruins of what our ancestors did to the earth,"

"You call 2 years, not long?" Sam said sarcastically "Im pretty sure not long, stops at 1 month," Tom snorted as he laughed at Sam's logic as a pick at Sam.
"Really man, again? Come on that was ages ago," Sam replied, as they both started making their away from the city gates, and towards the market.
"I know, but Natasha probably still has nightmares," Tom joked.
"She probably doesn't even remember because, as I said, it was ages ago," Sam carefully and stealthily grasped an apple off a nearby stall, while walking past.
"That's not what I heard, and by the way..." Tom, noticing Sam's sly and slick shoplift, snatches the apple places it back on the small Apple pile.
"Technically, I could arrest you for that," The two boys snigger, both knowing that Tom never would. "Anyway, I should be getting back to my post, you should get back to school,"

"It's not really a school, is it though," Sam motioned toward the unstable junk building next to them.
"Well, it's a place that you have to go to or grow up and get a job," Tom took out a miniature apple and handed it to Sam. "And if you want to,'travel around the wastelands,' and go explore the ruins of past wars, then you will have to train like the rest of us did to become Guards, or scavengers,"

Sam opened the door to the 'open house school', "That's not what I want. I want to travel but not with the boundaries of Guards and Scavengers. I want to be a wonderer,"

"Huh, there is no way on this earth, that your Aunt will ever let you be a wonderer," Tom laughed, and turned to head back to the gate,. "But keep dreaming, dreamer boy,"

Shaking his head, Sam returned back to his lesson.

In no rush, Sam opened the classroom door, and made up an excuse for his late arrival. "Sorry sir, I had an upset stomach, and so I went to the..." Mr Callahan interrupted Sam's incompetent excuses "I'm afraid Mr Carrol, that your excuses do not help you in this instance,"
Confused and worried at what he thought the scruffy old man was on about, Sam asked "What do you mean?"

"You are dismissed and shall not carry on with this course, good day Mr Callahan," Sam stared in dismay as his brain processed what the man was implying. If he didn't finish this year, then he had no chance, not even a glimpse at having any sort of stable future.
Not that he cared much - however Sam knew was that, Aunt Cleo was not going to be happy when she found out- if she found out. As Sam left The ridged old scrap pile they called school, Sam scrolled through all the possiblites of his aunts reaction when he tells her, he got kicked out of the Guard programme she got him into. It wasn't even as if he wanted to become a Guard like Tom. His dream has always been to be a wanderer. The freedom; the independence; the experience.

Sam walked home, still lost in his own thoughts. The majority of the journey was spent thinking and trying to find a way to manipulate his words carefully so he wouldn't be in as much trouble as he expected he would. He came to the conclusion that, well to put it lightly - he was screwed.
Jumping, climbing and free running, Sam eventually had mad it home and was greeted by the friendly wag of a tail and chirpish bark.
"Hey, scrap. Hush," Scrap quietly skipped over to him - Sam patted him gently over the head. Samuel brushed his fingers through the roots of the thousand; millions of short hairs covering the tiny scrawny dog - the feeling of the slender strands of fluffed fuzz, comforted him - putting his mind at rest, even if it was only for few moments.

More coming soon...