May thirteenth was the day my father had pulled me and my brother out of school frantically driving us home where he lead us into the basement with our mother and little sister. Us kids were shoved into the back covered with cushions and pillows. Ever since that day us survivors have been living in the shadow of the world we used to have. The bombing destroyed everything. It ended the Third World War sure, but it nearly ended humanity.
Twelve years later I'm twenty-five. Living with a band of misfit thieves. Humanity has slowly rebuilt itself, with the few remaining people who weren't killed on impact, or radiation, or sickness, or injury. Now small villages are scattered where America used to be. Big cities are nothing but untouched craters, still too heavy with radiation to be safe to rebuild or even move by. I don't know if other countries are doing as well as us. There's no way of contacting them. Everyone is on there own now.
Sure, I could live in a little town and so my part to keep everything running, maybe I'd farm or help hunt animals. I don't know. I don't think I'd fit with a community like that. Reece says I'm too angry. Corban says I'm antisocial. Maybe I am. That would explain why they're such a pain in the ass.
I'm sitting at the edge of the cliff that hangs over the ravine where a small community has nested at the bottom of the large crack in the earth. The sides of the ravine are lined with thick forest and going in a bit deep from one of the ravine walls, you'll find our camp. Four scrappy tents all pitched up around a crappy campfire. We won't be staying at this town very long. Not until someone recognizes us stealing and calls guards on us. Then we'll have to move because people have to be rude like that. I'd hate for that to happen. I like this town, the whole making a little community in the ravine is cool to me. The view is amazing the scenery is beautiful. I hope we can stay here awhile.
"Elias,"
I turn around hearing my name to see a skinny figure standing a few yards on top of the cliff before it begins to slope down at the very edge where the grass stops.
"My traps are empty," He says.
I groan as I stand up. I carefully make my way up the steep slope up to where he's standing. His name is Corban. He's the youngest of our group, only seventeen, he was only five when the bombs hit, poor kid never got a childhood. He's shorter, dirty blonde hair, glasses, and a face covered in acne. He's not that strong, has a pretty twinkish look to him. But he makes up for it in smarts. Corban's the smartest one out of our group, okay well that isn't saying very much, but he's smarter than I'd say seventy-five percent of adults.
"I figured," I grumble, "The hunters were out yesterday, sucked this place dry, I wouldn't be surprised if they stole catches from our traps. Assholes."
"Well we'd probably do the same thing," Corban muttered.
"Shut up."
We walk back threw the forest and enter camp. We set up in a very small clearing. In the center of all our tents that line the outside is a makeshift fire pit where Reece is sitting. Oh Reece, she's a character. She's only nineteen but she has a hell of a mouth. I can't get her to shut up for five minutes for the life of me.
"DID YOU GUYS GET SOMETHING?!" Reece falls to us even though we're a whole twenty feet away.
"No we did not." Corban mutters.
"Dammit! Well hopefully Remmington will bring something back, he always manages to come in clutch, like that one time when Corban fell and hit that nasty cut on his knee but we had ran out of bandages but then when Remmington came back he brought back bandages without even knowing we needed them! That was pretty cool, like what a coincidence am I right guys?"
"If I had a knife for every time you retold that story I'd have enough to have a monopoly over them," I hiss.
"Speaking of where is Remmington?" Corban asked.
"I don't know probably somewhere doing something. He's probably in town. I hope he gets me a new knife, I need a new knife. OH! Guys you know what would be cool if what had happened with Corban and the bandages happened again and—"
"I bet he's probably drunk, or high, or both," Corban said cutting off Reece.
"He better not, or else we won't get to eat." I mumble.
"Don't get your hopes up." Corban muttered as he headed over to his tent and walked in.
I frown and start walking towards my tent before I head Reece open her mouth.
"HEY WAIT! Elias where are you going?" Reece asks.
"My tent."
"Can I come?"
"No."
"Well can you stay out here?"
"No."
"Aw come on I wanna talk to you!" Reece whines.
"Talk to Corban," I say as I pull aside the opening of my tent.
"But he's boring! All he does is read!"
"Well that sucks." I close my tent and sit down in the pile of blankets I have. I need a hobby. Something to do other than sleeping. Corban reads, Reece makes clothes, Remington... gets high and drunk, but even sometimes he makes his own knives or wood carvings and they're actually good. But I don't do anything. Reading is boring. I'm not good at art or anything, or making stuff. I wish TV's could still work. I'd do anything to have a working phone. Gosh what I'd give to play on a baseball team again or football. I never had a chance to play football, my parents said I couldn't play til highschool, but highschool never happened for me.
It isn't fucking fair.
YOU ARE READING
The Runaways
Adventure12 years after bombings that ended an intense war-- and almost humanity itself --Elias Mendoza and other survivors struggle daily in the "new society" that's been formed from rumble. With the world being ran by the biggest, most ruthless gangs there...