~Eight~

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We took turns taking watch shifts. We each slept at least two hours before we had to leave. We gathered our weapons, food, and backpacks. We had to stay hidden so we couldn't take the truck. We walked back to the frozen tunnel creek and went back to the sewers. The sewers stench went away because the water froze. It was cold underneath the real world. We decided to go back into the city to find the rest of the group. "Boots, we are going to split up into two groups close but far enough that in danger some of us can escape or help." I said. "Alright." Boots said to me. We climbed up a ladder and left our supplies by the sewer ladder. I picked up a rock and drew an "x" by the entrance and smash the rock on the ground. We decided to walk into an old building and zip lined to other buildings. "Truck." Elisia said. We each moved towards the truck and wiped it out. We separated at that moment. My grandma, Boots, and I while Benny, Elisia, and Issa stuck together. We took the truck and drove on the road for about an hour. Boots drove my grandma kept watch and I organized all of our supplies. Then we ran out of gas. "C'mon we have to leave." Boots said. We left the truck and walked into a building with everything scattered all over the place. A desk stained with black from a fire. I walked upstairs and found glass all over the carpet. Walking around this city creeped me out. The fact that millions of people died and the buildings are so empty. It was so sorrowful. I liked to think of what it was like before. When the world had trillions of survivors. When my family was all together we would have picnics. Now our picnics are kill, eat, run, hide. I looked down at a picture frame, picked it up and looked at the photograph inside. A woman and a man both wearing sunglasses and smiling. I put it back on the desk and looked at the second set of stairs. I climbed up to the top of the building and looked at what was once the city of New York... now it belonged to the army of the soldiers and their leader. Would we ever find who this person is or is it just a trap? The problem was, we already walked into this trap.

Dora the Explorer         PostApocalyptic WarfareWhere stories live. Discover now