The Land After Tomorrow (Completed)

Chapter 1: Life of Now

They walked across dead trees destroyed by the Scorch. A place unrecognizable to what it once was. Crushed branches mushed underneath their boots as famine and fatigue straggled them along. Miles of endless dead trees lay ahead that had burned from the fires. Bones of those who perished crushed as they walked. A sign for Town bank laid buried among the rubble of buildings. The rubbles of homes and buildings laid underneath their feet where people once used to live, but the fire burned their homes to the ground and some perished with them. The presence of those that had perished could faintly be known. An eerie feel prickled up the skin of those that walked. Their lungs coughed with contamination in the air as they covered their mouths with cloths and scarfs. Their boots thumped against the ground as the Wakers, a group of survivors, walked. They were those who could adapt to the contamination of the planet and toxins. The air they breathed filled with contaminated chemicals and thick with toxins making the walk a battle for each breath. The sky above was an orange, red mix of toxins that blocked some of the sun from the thickness. The wind chilled against them as the little amounts of rays that broke through the clouds of toxins beamed at them. It would have been July, a hot season where the sun beamed a painful humidity but those days were over. Little sun could get through the toxic mist that covered the sky.

A young boy, about the age of fifteen, limped his away across the rubble. His mellow and shallow face showed his signs of fatigue and exhaustion. His face was battered with cuts and a gash upon his brow. Dirt and soot laid upon his face that conveyed his eyes. His cold, brown, shallow eyes stared at the ground in despair. His eyes searched upon the rubble of bones of those who perished and limped weakly. His hollow soul stared blankly onto the ground ahead trapped between his mind and reality. He thought deeply about his current situation, his life, and his past, but more of the secret he has been carrying. His eyes occasionally twitched with pain from his gashing ankle. His mouth was covered in a scarf to prevent the toxic waste from pouring into him and his dark, brown hair was covered over with a hoodie. Bits of his hair moved across his eyes as he limped. He dragged his right foot, limping, across the rubble with each step radiating pain.

His ankle swelled and gashed from running from the toxic mist when he tripped down the rocks. His foot snagged in between two rocks as he fell. He pulled helplessly out of the wedge, gashing his ankle as he pulled out, before the toxic mist engaged him. Now, with each step he limped with pain as a trail of blood laid behind him as it streamed down his ankle through the cloth that wrapped it. His feet were cut and bruised from sharp-edged rubble and walking miles of endless days with no protection over his soft and battered bare feet.

He carried a tactical rifle on his left shoulder with a backpack that carried his canteen, bags of food, an extra jacket and jeans and a couple personal items. Across his chest he had ammunition for the rifle that was laid out on a sling. Across his neck he carried a gold necklace with a cross that was made of pure gold. In his right hand, battered and bruised, he held a soft, untouched hand. His sister, now twelve, kicked rocks ahead of her as she clung onto her brother's hand. She held on tight for fear of losing him like their mother. Her hazel eyes were laid upon by bags of restless days and like her brother, her hair was brown but dark by all the dirt and soot that covered over it. Her face was a boundless ray of hope and dreams. When someone looks deeply in her eyes, they can see her radiant, boundless heart shining through. She is the one to dream about the birds in the sky or a picnic in the park. Perhaps, it's just curiosity as she never knew of that life. Nor could she dream or hope for she was born in the time of survival. Dreams didn't exist for they could haunt you and turn into a nightmare. She never had the chance to be a kid like she so desperately wanted. Nevertheless, she is a spark of hope to everyone who lays eyes on her.

She is bundled up in two layers of jackets, a small light weight hoodie laid underneath a green jacket. A scarf wrapped around her mouth like her brother to try to minimize the toxic chemicals going into their system. Her hair swayed throughout the wind blowing into her eyes. On her left shoulder, she carried a rifle. For a young girl, this would have been shocking in the past time, but to survive she would need to learn how to and that meant learning how to protect herself. She carried a backpack that had about the same materials in it as her brother, except she had a doll that bounced in her bag like a dance as she took each step.