Blind Visionary [John Murphy x OC; Becca's Island]

Chapter One

A soft drizzle of light streams down onto the rusty dirt that surrounds me as I lay on the bed, slowly waking up after a short night of sleep. The drones have been more active than usual in the recent weeks, causing me too much paranoia to get a complete night of sleep. The small boulder above me shields my home from the outside world. I've gone nearly four days now without sunlight and don't know if I can survive another day without. No matter how active the drones are, I prepare myself for a quick, risky venture up to the outside world.

As I raise myself out of the bed, I suddenly feel the toll my body has taken from lack of sleep and food. My back aches like a stiff wooden board forcing my spine one way and no other. A sharp pain attacks my temples and no matter how hard I rub them, it won't budge without a drink of fresh water. As I stand, the world shifts in too many directions, and I stumble forward across the dirt floor. So far, not great, but manageable. The small kitchen holds only a handful of dried berries which I chew down as fast as I can. The soft berries stick to my teeth and dry throat as I force them down. My stomach begs for more, but it's all I've got until I make the trek up the tunnel.

This has been my home for the past seven years - a hole in the ground - walls, floors, and ceilings made of dirt and rock, hidden underneath the most dangerous place on Earth right now. The drones live up there on the island, tracking every movement in the expanse of woods that surrounds the mansion. This is where the apocalypse began more than 100 years ago. And thanks to my previous circumstances, it is now my home. I walk over toward the south wall - a tall, long wall of dry dirt with thousands of tally marks from left to right. I pick up the flat stone that sits beneath the artwork and etch in another deep line. 2,429 days since last human contact. 2,429 days since I hugged my aunt's dying body. 2,429 days since I crawled down into this hole, fearing for my life, waiting for the drones to give up their search for me.

Don't give up, Mira. It's too late for me, but it's never too late for you. Please, don't give up.

I haven't. No matter how difficult this life is now, I must keep fighting. I have no home. No tribe. No purpose - except to survive.

I pull my thick, long braids up into a loose bun to clear my vision before grabbing my backpack. It's olive green, stained with mud, and has endured many years of forest life. I pack it with an empty canteen, a sharp pocket knife, and a few traps I've created out of washed up metal from the beach. Hopefully the traps I set last week are full, because my stomach is really hating me right now. The climb up the tiny 5-foot hole is made easier by metal rungs like a ladder leading to the top. The hardest part is lifting the boulder that blocks the entrance, shielding me from the drones. My home is completely hidden and the closests I've come to being spotted happened when I lifted the rock without listening for drones first. It was hovering about a quarter mile away and nearly shot me, but got confused when I disappeared beneath the ground. Since then, I've made it a habit to wait 30 seconds before going up.

It's clear today, finally. But I know I'll only have about ten minutes, to play it safe. Which I do. Always.

Mustering all the strength I can from my weakened body, I lift the boulder, barely, and watch as the light pours into my dark cavern. I stay still for a moment, breathing, basking in the illuminating sunlight that warms my cool pale skin. I haven't had much time to enjoy the sun since I stepped foot onto this goddamn island. Ironic, since we were hoping to find the City of Light.

Finally, I brace myself for the chance of death, and climb onto the grassy dirt that surrounds the entrance. The dirt is wet and sticks to my hands in the best sensation imaginable. The scent of fresh rain pours into my mind and I lose myself for a moment. The island is so lush, bright green, alive with chirping birds and crashing waves from the distant beach. If only it weren't infested with killer drones.