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 Posted: Sun May 11, 2014 11:43 pm
The first cracks in the sky reminded many of them of the Tear that had appeared. They had nearly begged for it to NOT be a repeat of that.
Hours later they many would have offered up their lives for a repeat of the Tear. Those that still had them.
The Clans weren’t dumb. They’d gone for the Hunters first. Revenge, of course. A home for a home. But more than revenge, they had taken out the only people who knew enough to try and stop them. Not that it mattered after those first few hours.
The sky had shattered, and humanity had fallen, in less than a day.
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Posted: Mon May 12, 2014 12:27 am
They had all but stopped hunting Hunters. She knew they looked for them, but not with the determination they had in the beginning. Hunters seemed to be the ‘fun find’ in the cereal box that was the left-over human world.
A world so vast and big, and yet so small.
Humans were drawn to each other. They congregated. Grouped. Silly social animals. That was how they found you, she knew. It was the groups. They could sense the Fear such gatherings gave off. That or people were just stupid and let themselves be followed.
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Posted: Tue May 13, 2014 8:47 pm
So she was leaving.
She hadn’t been the first to wander into this town, and she certainly had not been the last. But now there were too many. Too many to go unnoticed, too many to be safe.
“Have to leave,” she muttered. “Go somewhere with no one, no people. I don’t need people.” I have you.
Sherry dropped the plate and reached for the bowl. Armagnac was right. The plate was extra. Bowls were much more versatile. One bowl, on mug, one spoon. She really only used that for stirring things- it was amazing how much could be eaten without utensils. Besides that, she owned one small pot. Sometimes that got annoying, having just one pot. She couldn’t boil water while she was cooking. Hrm. Perhaps she’d have to keep an eye out for another pot.
Aside from cookware, her pack contained two small blankets, one pair extra pants, two extra shirts, and some miscellaneous goods. All things she needed, all things Armagnac agreed were worth their weight. Only what she could carry. That was the rule.
Even then, twice she’d left everything behind.
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Posted: Tue May 13, 2014 9:01 pm
“I hate running.”
It was beyond old. It had been old ages ago. It was normal now. She still hated it.
Musing was the tone of the weapon’s voice. The implication of her words was clear to Sherry.
“It doesn’t matter. I’d like to form an attachment, maybe. To something other than my trinkets.” One ring, one gold heart necklace hanging on a silver chain (the original had broken ages before) and one tattered scarf. It was all she had left of her old life. Besides Armagnac, but losing her would have been impossible.
But that was all she had left of both old lives, really, but nothing remained of her fist life. It was so long ago that it felt like an old faded dream, half forgotten as one rolled out of bed. Faded and gone.
Very little of that world remained, all in all.
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