The Lost City

Prologue

Elanor ran. Her short legs pumped as her body violently jerked around, bobbing and weaving through any obstacle in her way. Her breaths were short and shallow, filling her tiny lungs and emptying them just as quickly. Sweat dripped down her face, the hot summer sun beating down on her.

She ran through a doorway, pausing only to slam the door shut and bar it. She knew it wouldn't hold forever, but it would still hopefully give her enough time to get away.

Spinning around, something caught her eye. Amongst all of the dead bodies, riddled with slashes and cuts, lay one still holding on to a weapon. Taking a closer look, she realized the corpse was that of her neighbor, John Alexander. Her heart sunk down to her stomach as she realized that if he was dead, his family must have been as well. Judging by the deep gouging in the man's neck, it likely wasn't pretty, either.

A pounding on the door shook Elanor away from her thoughts. Taking a nervous gulp, the eleven-year-old girl approached the body. Still in the hand of her former neighbor was a Maxwell 9m. Fighting back tears, Elanor pried the dead man's cold fingers off of the small caliber handgun. Lifting the gun up, she noted how heavy it felt. She trembled with the gun in her hands, still trying hard to fight back tears as the banging on the door continued.

Remember what Mama taught you , she reminded herself. Checking to make sure that the safety was off, she was both relieved and frightened to find that it was. She pulled back the slide lightly, noticing that there was already a bullet in the chamber. Finally, she checked the magazine. It was still full. He didn't even get a chance to defend himself , Elanor lamented in her head.

The young girl trembled as she turned to face the door. Shakily, she held the pistol out in front of her. She let out a small whimper as the pounding on the door got louder and louder. She flinched as she heard cracking in the wall, telling her that the bar would fall out soon.

"Stop! I have a gun! I'll shoot you!" the young blonde girl cried. Her high-pitched voice showed fear, through and through, but she didn't waver. Unfortunately, neither did her pursuer. "I mean it!"

It didn't take long to break the bar holding the door closed off of the wall. The door swung open, hitting the wall so hard it nearly fell off of its hinges. Elanor didn't waste a second. She squeezed the trigger and fired the gun directly ahead of her. The loud pop left her ears ringing, and she lowered the gun in favor of rubbing her head.

When Elanor finally was able to look back up, she noticed that her pursuer was no longer standing. Instead, he lay in the doorway, clutching his left shoulder. His messy black hair was stained with red, and a combat knife lay not too far from where he fell.

"I'm sorry... Papa," Elanor whimpered. She pointed her gun at her father's chest, squeezing her eyes shut, she pulled the trigger again, ending the scene with a loud bang .