Aftermath

What would you do if everything you knew, everything you cared about collapsed and everyone you cared for were taken from you? What would happen if you lost everything?

The year is 2066. The entire earth was torn apart by a massive earthquake. Buildings leveled, entire countries sunk into the sea almost over night. Among the countless numbers of the human race, only a few survived the catastrophe. You are one of those people. So, you know, A+ for surviving the end of all things! However small the numbers, the Human Race has endured. And where there's even a scrap of life, there are the group of warriors who stand above the rest. The brave souls who stand firm, determined not to surrender. Most water, including the rain, is toxic. There's next to no food or shelter, and any you do find, you most likely will have to fight with one or more wild dogs or other animals to keep it. Anything you possess, you salvaged yourself. But you've survived this far. Now you must survive to carry on. To remake humanity. Some tales have been told of lands that have survived almost untouched by the earthquake. Promised lands where the water is clean and food and shelter are plentiful. Sadly, most of humanity has lost hope, and dismiss these rumors as idle stories. But not everyone has lost hope. Band together. Adapt. Survive.No matter how young you are, the fate and future of your species rides on your lives continuing. And it is up to you whether you fail them or not.

Hey! So I have more time than I know what to do with (Because I have no life...) and I recently had this awesome idea. Nothing to keep you from insanity like a good Storybook, right? Right??? (You know you love me.) So, first off, rules.

Spoiler

.Please no cussing.

.Romance is great, but please keep it appropriate. Kissing is as far as it should go.

.You can have more than one character, but if you want to leave the Storybook, please let me know beforehand so we can figure out what to do with your character.

.Don't kill another character without permission.

.Try to be consistent with posts. If you can't post for a round, then let us know. Each post will go on until every character has posted.

Okay, now the Character Template. Let's rock.

Spoiler

Code: Select all

Character Template
[b]Name:

Age: (Between 15 to mid twenties. If you want to play as someone older, talk with me.)

Gender:

Ethnicity:

Personality:

Looks:(If you include a picture, describe them again here.)

Wears:

History:

Family/Friends:

Weapons: (Must specify where you're character found it/how they made it. Keep in mind guns would be hard to fight with, because you'd have to find all the ammunition yourself.)

Up for love?:

Motivations: (Why does your character stay hopeful/determined to survive?)

Skills: (what survival skills does your character specialize in?)

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Fears:

Other:[/b]

You survived the earth's destruction. Can you escape the Aftermath?

Gyeoung Hwang/Somewhere in Chicago

"Do you want to stop?" I clambered to the top of a slab of concrete and turned around. He was below me, still standing on the asphalt.

There used to not be so much climbing involved in walking down the street.

Jae pushed his long black hair away from his forehead and stared up at me, squinting against the sun. He was leaning against his metal rod a little more heavily than when we started this morning and even from where I was standing I could see the small grimace he was trying to hide.

"I'll be fine."

I gave him a look.

"We're stopping."

I jumped lightly down from the hunk of rubble and sat down adamantly. Jae sighed and gripped his pole with both hands, using it to slide gently down to the asphalt below and laying his left leg out at an awkward angle. I inhaled deeply, leaning against the slab of concrete. The sky above me was a crystal blue with only a few wispy clouds scudding across it's surface. If you focused only on the sky, everything looked normal. Peaceful. But looking at clouds could never make you forget. I remember it all with horrifying clarity. The earth rocking under my feet. The people panicking as the walls gave way and the roof collapsed on top of us. I shivered and looked away from the clouds and out at the ravaged world. Hardly a single building had been left standing after the quake, and the cracked road was littered with debris and a few empty cars. Jae took off his backpack and began taking inventory. He chewed his lip.

"Out of iodine." He muttered.

Not good. without that, getting clean water just got a lot harder. Hopefully there's some sort of market of pharmacy still standing.

Jae grabbed his pole and pushed himself to his feet, wincing a little. "Let's keep moving." I shook my head. Jae never wanted to stay still long, even when it would do him good.

"Fine. But I'm carrying the pack." Jae zipped it up and tossed it to me. I felt my nerves stir when I felt how light it was. I slung the pack over my shoulders and we began climbing again. Some people refused to keep moving after everything fell apart, but for my brother and I, moving forward was all we could do. Because if we didn't move ahead, we ended up looking back. And that's something no one could do anymore.

Evan Kim | Somewhere in central United States

Concentrate, Evan. Concentrate.

I tapped my desk with a finger, trying to remember the answer to the problem I was solving and wishing I hadn't signed up for a summer class at my university. But I couldn't think. For some reason, my mind kept giving me a nagging feeling that the world was alive beneath my feet, humming and grumbling and ready to--

Crash! The ground began to shake. My classmates cried out, quizzes forgotten.

"Please remain calm, students," said the professor, but at that moment, part of the roof caved in.

Many people screamed, and all of us, including the professor, dashed for the door with one mind.

I was one of the fastest to slip out the door, and my flight from the campus after that was a blur of falling with the violent shaking, dodging other people and careening cars in the busy streets. My thoughts were only on my mom, at home not too far away.

"Umma!" I shouted as I burst through the gate of our house, nearly bumping into her.

"We don't have time," she said in Korean, shoving a large backpack in my arms. "We need to get out of here." She hefted her own bag and pushed past me.

My cat, Rina, growled as she brushed past my legs in a hurry to get away from our collapsing home. I scooped her up, ignoring her claws pricking my arm.

I took Umma's hand as we fled, stumbling together with every step. We were fine at first.

And then Umma got hurt.

"It's fine. It's just a scratch," she insisted, and kept pushing forward.

But it wasn't. As days passed, her wound got worse and she slowed down. She could barely carry her backpack. I kept begging her to stop, to take care of herself. We rested more often and I would help her clean the wound, but she would never allow me to 'waste' any of our limited medical supplies.

None of it helped her, in the end.

"Evan," she whispered. Then there was her ring, somehow in my hand, and a few more strained words.

Then she was gone.

I gasped and my eyes snapped open. I could feel my rapid heartbeats as I tried to calm myself down.

Rina hissed and stalked away. It was almost light.

"Don't go," I whispered in Korean, but she ignored me. I didn't go after her, because I knew she would return. If she didn't, I would lose everything of my past.

As I sat up and rubbed my face, I found that my cheeks were wet with tears.

"Umma," I murmured, wrapping my arms around my knees. I could feel her wedding ring dangling beneath my shirt, and it seemed to burn a hole straight through my heart. It had been a few months since the earthquake . . . and the day I lost my mom.

Then I shook my head, straightening. Umma wouldn't want me to be like this. I have to keep moving.

I packed quickly and was on my way once Rina decided to come back. To my surprise, she was only gone for a few minutes, and she stayed right by my side as we walked.

Houston had been nearly destroyed, but perhaps other big cities had survived.

I checked my compass. "Northeast," I told Rina. "We're still on track. That's the way to go to Chicago. Maybe we can find a way to get to Korea and Abuji from there."

Rina ignored me, delicately picking her way over the terrain.

"Well," I murmured softly, smiling a little, "at least I'm not alone."

Spoiler

"Umma" means "Mom" and "Abuji" means "Father" in Korean.

Melanie Lewis | Las Vegas


Everyone's a smoker here. That gray film is always hanging in front of my eyes, stinging my nose. Every time I breathe, I can taste it in the back of my throat. I can't remember a day when my hair didn't reek of a fire. Ever since the Quake, I've been passing all these little fires, every couple of feet. It's ironic, really. If you managed to survive the Quake, you just got another death sentence the second you stepped outside and started breathing the smoke. I've long since accepted my imminent death, whether it be lung cancer or a wild dog that ends up getting me in the end.

I carry only the clothes on my back, the dagger on my leg, and a small hikers pack. Army green. Full of rare bottled water, a couple dented cans of expired food, and a couple sets of clothes. Just the bare essentials, if that. I'm traveling with a small group of scavengers. I stumbled across them two days ago, and all they've been doing since then is siphoning gasoline from abandoned cars on the broken highway. I've been helping out to get a meal at the end of the day. There's two girls, three guys, and a teenage boy. He's the biker chick's kid. The other girl, a mousey little thing, was recently married to the doctor-looking guy. I don't think they've even had an anniversary yet. It always makes me sad to think about that. The other two guys are your typical meatheads. One has a scar on his left eyelid. They other has told me that he used to be a pro basketball player a while ago at least four times. They didn't give me their names, and I didn't lend mine.

"Grab that carton for me," Baller says to me, beckoning it toward him with his fingers. I grab the empty gas can and toss it to him, keeping a grasp on the hose in my other hand. I hear Biker Chick yelling at her kid again. All he does is sit around the whole day. Every day. I would yell at him, too, if he were my kid. You can't be lazy in a time like this. You either pull your own weight or you get left behind.

"Get up! Get your butt up and help with the gas," Biker Chick yelled at Lazy. He just grimaced and obeyed. Now that I think about it, I'm not sure if I've ever heard the kid speak a single word. Mousey and Doctor were over working on a different car, a blue sedan that has definitely seen better days. They're talking quietly between themselves. Scarface, Baller and I nearly have a full carton of sludgy, brown gasoline. I heft it in my hands as we start to walk down the street to the next car.

Scarface walks up behind me, grabbing the carton, grazing my hip with his knuckles as he does so. Likely not an accident.

"Lemme take that for ya, sweetheart. Can't have you straining those pretty muscles of yours," he drawls, walking past me. I roll my eyes at his back. Oh, please. Just what I need. I contemplated telling him to back off, but he was already at the next car. A rusty, red pickup. I hop into the bed of the truck, and just pray that it doesn't break. I teeter my way onto the cab and stand up to reach my full height, my white T-shirt pulling up around my belly button. 5'11. I was always the tallest girl in school.

Shielding my eyes from the punishing sun, I squint around us. Rubble. Rubble, rubble, and more rubble. The skeleton of a once thriving city sprawls before us.

"Daw, wipe that frown off of that beautiful face of yours, sweetheart. We're in Vegas! Nothin' to frown about, now, is there?" He asks me, snickering his little snicker. I turn to him as I hop back off the cab of the truck.

"Why don't you just call me Melanie, that okay with you?" I ask him, the edge in my voice finding no reason to conceal itself.

He drags his eyes up and down my body, lingering on my exposed stomach after I drop down to the ground and dust off my jeans. "Sure thing, sweetheart."

And just like that, I know it's time to find a new group.

Spoiler

Hey guys. I know this is a short post, but I just wanted to let everyone know where Melanie is and what she's up to. And, FYI, none of the nameless characters mentioned are actual characters. Just guest stars. XD Let me know if I should change anything.

Chariot Armoire | A Wasteland

Night in the wasteland was deathly cold. It sliced beneath the wolf’s grey fur, and it shivered, growling quietly.

The rest of its pack skirted around it, keeping a lookout in all directions. Their noses twitched, eyes prowling the landscape as they moved. The mountains in the distance were splintered and broken, deep ruptures carved into them by the Quake. Jagged scars snaked across the rock and earth, each one seeming to look into hell.

A mournful wind swept past, stirring up the dust between the sparse bushes. The wolf paid this no heed as it led the pack forward. Over time, it had learned to accept the gifts and punishments of the wasteland, even the cold.

The wolf was not shivering from the cold, though it swore it could see its breath frosting in the moonlight. The wolf was shivering with elation, for tonight the wasteland had given it a tremendous gift.

It sat quaintly in the middle of the landscape, the moonlight glinting off of the metal bars. The wheels sank on the rocky soil, odd silhouettes of machinery beneath. A giant rake jutted up from inside the cart, like a steel hand clawing at the murky sky. Undisturbed by the malicious night, there it rested, a great, rolling cage. A shopping cart.

Resisting the urge to howl with delight, the alpha wolf stayed low, leading its pack towards its prize. Its ears pricked up; they were close enough to hear it now.

From the midst of the metal shadows, there came a sweet, shallow breathing. A blanket-covered lump shifted in the bizarre cart. It turned over, the blanket sliding off. Its fair skin glowed in the moonlight, its waifish arms snuggling a pillow.

A human, tender and frail. The wolf found its tongue lolling out excitedly, and quickly regained its composure. As leader of the pack, it had to set an example.

Unfortunately, the example had already been set. The starving wolves’ tongues were out and drinking the night air, even more eager for what was to come. They advanced, tails wagging like an army of happy puppies.

Still, as they reached the cart, they fell silent. Their solemn expressions were evident of the pack’s true plight: survival. Without this meal, they would starve, or worse. A few wolves were already eying the smaller ones with a dangerous gleam.

Determined to keep its pack together, the alpha stalked closer. It prowled low to the ground, sniffing at the crooked machinery. There seemed to be a machine attached to the cart’s axle, smelling of diesel and burnt gasoline. A few meager supplies were lashed to the metal undercarriage, but nothing looked particularly dangerous or edible.

Suddenly, the motor sputtered, sending a cloud of acrid smoke into the wolf’s snout. It yelped, jumping back, pawing angrily at its nose. The other wolves crouched warily, hanging on the bursting of noise, the roar of the motor to wake the child up.

But as quickly as it had awoken, the motor settled down, quietly rumbling to a stop. The child purred in its sleep and turned over again, moving the rake handle slightly.

The wolves relaxed a bit, glancing around to make sure nothing else had heard the motor’s gasp. A wind swept through the wasteland, churning the loose soil into a cruel, dusty whisper.

Then the rake came crashing down, the spikes impaling the wolf’s head to the ground.

Slowly, daintily, the child stood up. It yawned, stretching so its shirt pulled up dangerously high. Rubbing the sleep from its eyes, it turned to the wolf pack. It cocked its head, long blond hair shining in the moonlight.

The wolves were stunned, staring at the twitching body of their leader. Eventually, though, they bared their teeth again, surrounding the shopping cart. Their low growls were the warnings of their vengeant wrath.

Finally realizing the situation, the child sighed. Stepping up onto the end of the rake, it skipped down the long handle, driving the prongs deeper into the alpha wolf’s head with each step. Reaching the bottom, it jumped on the metal part, crunching the beast’s skull underfoot.

As dark red-grey fluid leaked from the broken mass of flesh, the child stepped off of the rake. Wrenching the iron spikes from the corpse, it lifted the weapon up. Blood dripped from the crimson-stained teeth. The child’s eyes were wide and luminous, staring at its foes.

The wolves began to shiver. Not from the cold, or excitement. They trembled, from raw, animalistic terror.

Without a word, the child raised the iron rake, and the teeth lunged forward to feast again.

Harry jumped. Across the space between the two buildings and onto the fire escape. The fire escape groaned and Harry carefully made his way up it and onto the roof. It was a long walk, but then again, it was always a long walk. On the rooftop lay a gray tarp. It flapped in the slowly increasing wind, only rocks and nails holding it down. Harry carefully lifted a rock off the tarp and peeked under it. The tarp hid boxes upon boxes stacked neatly in rows of three. Each one was filled with either Iodine or dried meat. Harry hated the stuff, but the meat was the only thing he could find that wouldn't spoil. The iodine was for water. He had hidden this stash carefully. No one in all Los Angeles knew about it. At least as far as he knew. Not many people were left in the ruined city. Harry saw this as a plus, it meant he could move about more freely and keep a lower profile than he had in Chicago.

He was never going back to Chicago.

Harry grabbed a crowbar lying in the pile of boxes and pried a box open. He then opened the pack he carried and took out a plastic bag. He stuffed a handful of meat in it. Next he unhooked a small lock box from the strap on his bag. Unlocking it, Harry scooped iodine up with his hands and put it in the lock box. He wasn't sure if picking it up with his bare hands was safe, but it hadn't done anything yet. A sound came from behind him and in one smooth motion, Harry was on his knee, gun at the ready, hand on the trigger. A couple birds flew off, cooing in horror. Harry cursed himself for being so jumpy. He wasn't usually quick to pull the trigger, after all, bullets were very rare. But something about the birds felt off. They hadn't been there when he'd climbed up, maybe someone had come up as he was getting his supplies. Harry looked around, finger still on the trigger. Then he stopped, cursing himself. He'd fallen into the pattern again. Ever since the quake he'd felt something in him change. It was subtle, but he's felt it's affects on him, and it scared him. He didn't want to change. He didn't want to become a body kept alive by the will to eat and sleep. He would not be souless. Yet at the same time, Harry knew the change was necessary. In order to survive he would have to become this machine he was so scared of. With an effort, Harry took his mind off the subject. He needed to get his supplies and get out. If anyone saw him up here he'd be an easy target.

Down the fire escape and Harry was back on the ground. A cat emerged from the alleyway below the fire escape. Faust. Harry smiled as the cat walked over to him, obviously happy to see him. Harry picked the cat up and inspected it. His coat shone with a healthy sheen, and Harry couldn't find any fleas or bugs for that matter at all. Satisfied, he put the cat back down. A sound cane to his left. A figure half ran half stumbled down the ruined Street towards him. Harry recognized the figure. Bobby, the small time amphetamine dealer. Bobby had blackmailed him a month ago into ripping off a handful of junkies for money. It wasn't so much the money Bobby wanted, but the reputation that came with it. The only people recognized in the world anymore were the extremely rich and extremely dangerous. Bobby stumbled up to Harry, panting.

"They're after me Harry!?"

"Who?"

"The junkies! Someone ratted on us!"

"And so you lead them here?!"

"What was I supposed to do!!''

A shot from echoed though the air and Bobby went down, clutching his leg and screaming his head off. Harry turned and ran as the band of junkies rounded the corner, barely dodging two bullets as he ducked into an alleyway. Faust had disappeared. They'd been in this situation. He'd find him later. He always did. Harry hopped a dumpster, then leaped up onto a fire escape. A bullet lodged itself in his shoulder, but he kept going, making it into the second floor before they could get another shot off. It turned out the building was an apartment complex. Harry spotted a window on the other side of the building and dashed towards it, vaulting a few tables and jumping out of it in a matter of seconds. Fortunately, the roof of the next building was level with the second floor. Harry landed feet first on the roof of the next building. A shout came from behind him and Harry felt a searing pain in his back. He stumbled, but managed to get off the roof. The junkies wouldn't stop chasing him. Of that he was sure. He needed to get out of the city. Harry kept to the alleys for the rest of the day. At the city border he found a truck by the side of a gas station. Faust was in the backseat. Despite the obvious pain he was in, Harry managed a smile. He managed to hotwire the truck, fortunately, the tank was full so Harry didn't need to spend more time than he had to getting out of the city.


------------------------------------------------------------

Getting out of the L.A area was easy. The hard part was getting out of the suburbs. The city itself was already full enough with dealers, but outside the city was where all the smart ones went. These gangs didn't sell drugs, they sold iodine and supplies. People were desperate for pure water and food nowadays, and almost everyone was trigger happy. Harry drove fast. A couple times he thought he was being pursued, but they never followed him far. In two hours he was out of the state, in another two he'd reached Nevada and Las Vegas was a mass of looming dark buildings on the horizon. Harry had to will himself to stay awake. He'd probably lost a lot of blood from the bullet wounds, and he hadn't a first aid kit on him. He needed that, he didn't know why he didn't get one from his stash.

Coming in to Las Vegas itself, Harry was met with a pleasant surprise.

''Get out of the car!''

A group of scavengers stood in front of him. One had a gun, the others had knives. Harry slowly opened the door. Pain shot through his arm and he fell to the ground, groaning. Faust stayed hidden.

''Hey, this kids hurt.''

''Should we help him?''

''Gas first. Help later.''

Harry attempted to talk, but only managed a small whimper. His throat was dryer than a desert. He saw the shadows of two figures walking up to him. They stopped a few feet away, Harry heard one mutter.

''Do you think he knows about the Promise Land.''

The name didn't ring a bell, but Harry sensed a want in the persons voice. With an effort, he nodded. The figure gasped.

''Help him''

Christa Perez - SOUTH SIDE CHICAGO

"Que bella," Christa smiled as her niece twirled around the kitchen wearing her new Sunday dress, "You will look so beautiful este domingo." The soft pink cotton perfectly complemented Sofia's rosy cheeks and brown curls.The toddler giggled, hiding her face behind the stuffed rabbit clutched in her arms.

Christa looked at her brother, who had not taken his eyes off Sofia since she had trotted into the room, "Will Paula be joining us on Sunday?"

Dante let out a quick burst of air through his nose, shaking his head, his eyes still fixed on his daughter. "Paula wants nothing to do with church, or our family." He glanced over at Christa, his knowing eyes almost piercing, "especially after your comments to her last weekend."

Christa's cheeks flushed, her eyes narrowing, "I just don't think it's fair that she dumps Sofia on you whenever she's with her new boy-"

Dante snapped - "Not in front of her!"

As if to accent his point, a plate rolled off the counter and shattered on the floor. A tiny shard flew, scraping the side of Sofia's cheek. Instantly, the blue eyed child burst into tears. Dante stood up urgently - picking up his daughter and cradling her. Christa walked towards the plate, shaking her head, "Dante - did you feel that?"

Dante held Sofia close, cradling her head between his head and shoulder, "Feel what?"

On cue, the earth began to shake. Dust rained from the ceiling, and bowls shattered from the table to the floor. Christa's eyes met her brother's in panic, her stomach twisting into knots - "Dante - what's going on?"

And then - pain like Christa had never felt before shot through her body. Her legs buckled beneath her as her back gave in. She reached out her hand towards Dante and Sofia - patterns swirled behind her eyelids, and then faded to black.


Golden morning sun shone through the fragmented door. Christa intertwined her fingers, reaching over her head, and let her head roll back in a long stretch. Everything hurt, her back the most. The blow she had taken yesterday while trying to steal iodine had nearly crippled her back.

Christa pushed open the closet door, and let her rosewood eyes eyes fall on the remains of her childhood home. Dust and ceiling tile littered the floors where the rooftop had caved. The stairwell had shattered like the mirrors that flew from the walls. The remains of plates and mugs decorated the counter top, some of them still covered in dried blood without a body to claim it. Perhaps, Christa thought, it was her heart that hurt the most.

She would need a new plan to recover the iodine. Her lips were getting dry. Her throat sore. Yesterday she was thirsty. Today - parched. She had run out of things to trade for the iodine, save for her own body, and the dehydration was becoming draining.

Christa stood up, walking into the main room towards the front door. She pulled a piece of tile from the ground and made a mark on the wall, lightly tearing through the floral wallpaper her mother had once so carefully applied. Today marked three months since the earthquake. Today, Christa decided, she would end her months of waiting in her once-home for her family to return. Determination flooded through her, and she straightened up slightly, carving slightly to the right of her daily tally:

Dante,
I survived. I will either find you or die trying. I love you.
-Christa

She glanced for a moment at the writing, then pulled her backpack off the floor and swung it over her shoulder in a smooth motion. With a deep breath Christa opened her front door and walked into the morning sun.

Nadia - A tattered woodland


A sharp screech split through the air, as a small, black spot zipped through the sky. It gained speed, flying towards the earth like a bullet. Just as it seemed it would crash into the ground, it opened its wings and slowed; shooting out its claws towards its prey. The dying squeal of a rabbit sounded, then stopped. Silence. The bird perched on the ground, over her quarry. She was had jet black wings and a jet black "mask" that seemed to cover her face. The bird's contrasting white belly and underwings flashed as she flapped, hitting the dead rabbit with her claws. The bird didn't eat though, she simply waited. Waited.

There was a rustle as something moved from behind a dead bush. The bird turned her head. Startled, her feathers ruffled up on her neck; waiting for the being to appear. Someone walked out of the brush. A girl in some old military-grade camo, with a thick leather glove on her hand, stepped out of the dead shrubbery. "Peri." she said the single word, and the bird perked up. She whistled, and the falcon suddenly flew to her wrist. "Good girl." Said the girl.

Nadia fed a chunk of meat to the bird, who wolfed it down hungrily. She then picked up the limp rabbit, stuck it in a burlap sack, and tucked the edge of the sack in her belt. The burden was light; unfortunately for Nadia. The rabbit was gaunt and thin from the lack of food. Hunger and thirst had made it weak. Nadia was not in the best of moods today, and was especially disgusted when this skinny thing was her only food. She'd be eating every part of it...again. The brains and guts would go to Peri: who considered them a delicacy. Nadia however, was glad for an excuse NOT to eat the insides. She needed to feed her bird.

"Come on Peri. When we get home I'll skin this thing and we'll eat." She tramped off through the woods; her silhouette disappearing into the twilight shadows.

"Run, Arabella!"

The two sisters, hand in hand, took off running with three thugs running right after them.

"Come on, girls. We'll show y'all a good time.. If you're good, we might even take you to Korea!" One sniggered before starting to run faster and reach out in an attempt to grab at Arabella's blonde locks.

Belladonna stopped in her tracks upon hearing the word "Korea" and pushed Arabella on.
"You go. I'll stall them." Arabella kept running, familiar with this plan of her sister's.

The thugs grinned smugly. The Korea one always worked.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Bella whispered seductively. "Take me."

The men needed no more. If this beautiful girl was asking for them, then they would take her.

Bella walked towards them, smiling, with her hands extended. The sight of her made the men lower the knives they had been holding. One walked forward and grabbed her. He also landed smack on the ground within a second, followed closely by his two friends.

By the time they collected themselves and understood what was going on, a black revolver was staring them in the faces.

"How do we get to Korea." Belladonna hissed with an incredibly cold voice, making the men quail. Was this the girl who asked them to take her?

"Like we'd tell you." The braver one spat at her, sneering. Of course, a pretty little thing like her wouldn't shoot. The revolver probably wasn't even real.

But it was, and she did.

In the leg.

While the man screamed and howled in pain, clutching at his leg, his two friends remained rooted in their places, silenced with fear.

"Speak, or I just might place the next bullets in your heads." Bella said, with an extremely casual tone, as if she might be speculating on the Super Bowl results... The Super Bowl. Oh how we wasted our time before all this crap, she thought, and smirked as she brought the gun to the face of the second man.

Seeing that she meant business, and that death by shooting was way quicker than death by stabbing, the man gave in.
"NO! Okay. We'll... We'll tell you! Don't touch us!" The man begged, with his friends nodding fervently. "It's in Chicago! The UN is in Chicago, they're helping people out on helicopters!"

Bella smiled. It seemed plausible enough. Even if it wasn't true, Chicago would be a pleasant change of atmosphere from dreary old Kansas.

"Okay. Thanks boys~" She smiled, before casually strolling away and leaving the three men on the ground. A few steps later, she turned back around.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

No one else could know this. She had to increase her family's chances of getting to Korea.

After a quick swipe through their bags, she grabbed extra iodine, dried jerky, and sachets of dried instant noodles and food, enough for the journey to Chicago. She also took the men's bags, hats and their various banknotes; Euros, Dollars, Chinese Yen... They would kindle superbly.

Her journey back to camp was a lonely and quiet one. There weren't many people left in this part of Kansas, or in any part of Kansas for that matter, and the ones that were here knew not to mess with the Posadas. Bella hoped the folks over at Chicago would be just as smart as she hopped over familiar boulders and turned corners.

Her camp consisted of a trailer they had rented for the summer holidays parked in an alleyway. Of course, now it belonged to them, since there wasn't a car rental agency left to return it to.
She found her mother inside the trailer, slumped on a couch and clutching an old wedding invitation, bearing the words "Miguel Posada and Victoire Cordelia Anouk", tears streaming down her eyes. She'd been like that since the day they lost her father, just a few days after the Quake. Lost and mostly inaccessible, resurfacing from her dark abyss of loss only occasionally. The girls had stopped trying to bring her back long ago, but Belladonna had to try one more time.

"Maman... I've brought more supplies... And a map to Korea." She whispered tentatively as she patted her back, trying to encourage her to talk.

"To Korea?" Her mother asked with a sniffle, immediately looking up. Arabella jumped inside at once, mouth wide open. "Corée du Sud?"

"Oui. We have to go to Chicago. The UN is apparently there." Bella whispered.

Mrs. Posada opened her mouth to ask how she knew this, and closed it again at the sight of the revolver in her pocket. She usually always kept it in her belt unless she used it recently. Bella then took her revolver out and refilled it with the bullets supplied by Arabella. Her mother counted 4. She then wondered when her daughters who, until a few months ago, designed wedding dresses and wrote romantic poetry, grew up so much.

"Then to Chicago," her mother said, getting up and stretching, "we will go, mes filles." The two girls cheered at the sight of their rejuvenated mother, and smothered her in an enormous bear hug.

After a few moments of quiet hugging, Mrs. Posada went over to the steering wheel, pulled out a road map and a snapshot of their father, and started the trailer.

DIANNE, LA

I wonder if my parents are dead.
I don't really care.

Honestly, i'm surprised zombies haven't come around this craphole of a world, what with Armageddon starting; the earth cracked open like a coconut, and if I hadn't raced out of the house I was squatting in I would've been 6 feet under.
I wish I had been just a second slower.

But I wasn't, so now I was stuck living, day after day. You couldn't really even call it living; scavenging for scraps, not bathing, wondering if every day would be your last. God, I hate this place.

I was walking down an empty highway, save for the piles of abandoned cars, some still shining. I checked each of them for food, gas, clothes. Anything to help me survive, I took it. And nobody, I mean nobody, was gonna take it from me.

A few hours later...

I had a hoard of good stuff from the highway; snack bars, beer, an extra backpack, blankets and even a bike. It's crazy the stuff people will forget about when they're trying to avoid being swallowed up by the earth. I was on the bike, pedaling my way through a bit of forest when i noticed a faint light in the distance. Could be a wildfire, I thought; but hell, I wasn't going to take the chance that it also could be a big angry mob of survivors. I should, at least, check out their gear...
I made my way towards the camp, and sure enough, the light was no wildfire. There were no people, and all their stuff had been left behind. I saw huge slash marks on the tent. Either an angry bear had attacked, or I had just landed myself in a trap. As I carefully approached the tent, I heard a rustle in the bushes...

Jae-Young Hwang/Chicago, Illinois

I've lost track of how much time had passed since the earthquake. Weeks, maybe months? I used my pole to push myself up onto the next hunk of rubble and my weak leg gave a twinge of protest. I tried not to wince and kept climbing. Gyeoung was ahead of me, always staying within arm's reach. The backpack bounced against her torso as she lithely hopped from rock to rock like a little mountain goat.

"You can go faster if you want." I muttered. "I can keep up." Gi turned her head and gave me an "I don't think so" look. I sighed. I guess I couldn't blame my younger sister for worrying so much. "We just took a rest, didn't we? And if I do fall behind you can always just slow down again." Gi's gaze lingered on me for a second more before she turned back around and began moving again, picking up her pace just a little. Well, it's better than nothing, I guess.

My leg began to ache after a while. I pushed myself on, forcing myself to keep up with my sister. Gi looked back at me, then her gaze returned to the road in front of her and she slowed down again. An RV drove by then, and we stopped, watching it maneuver around the holes and chunks of debris. The head of a small blonde girl popped up in the window and I lifted my hand in greeting, smiling a little. Gi stood still with her usual stone expression on her face. The little girl waved cheerily back at me. An older girl came into sight then, and looked curiously out the window. She caught sight of us, and put a protective arm around the other girl I could only assume was her younger sister. They both disappeared from the window and the RV kept driving until it was out of sight as well. We kept walking. It was always what we'd done. The only thing we could do. No destination, no goal besides keeping on the move and keeping each other alive. We dropped on to a rare flat section of the road, and I felt the pain shock through my spine as I landed. I grimaced. Gi caught my look.

"You alright, Hyung?"

Hyung. Big brother. before the quake, when we didn't have to worry as much about finding a safe place to sleep every night, I hardly ever heard her call me anything else. But she had been younger then. She'd had time to be a kid then. I rubbed my thigh tenderly as the pain faded to a dull throb.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I just landed on my leg a little too hard, that's all." We stood beside each other in silence, staring out at the road. Gyeoung squinted as a small black dot appeared on the horizon, moving quickly toward us. Her hand moved quickly to the knife strapped on her left bicep. The dot came closer. Too small to be a person, but it could be a dog. I gripped my pole tighter. The black dot didn't stop advancing. Gi drew her knife. The dot disappeared behind a chunk of concrete. We watched tensely, waiting for whatever it was to jump at one of us.

A small brown cat leaped from behind the slab, stopping to arch its back and hiss at us before streaking passed us down the road. Gi huffed out a small sigh, loosening her grip on the knife. I glanced over at her, smiling a little.

"Well...at least is wasn't a dog."

Gen McNickelson|Greenwich Village

Gen sat on a small hill. Behind him, his wooden cottage lurked in the shade of the oaks and elms that grew around it. Gen couldn't say the view from his house was nice what with all the smoke and ash billowing up from the towns below.

At least the soot made the sun look beautiful as it shone through the clouds of grey and black.

Gen looked down at his hands, and the assorted screws and other useless widgets mixed up in the concave of his curved palm. He looked back up, letting his fingers do what they wanted.

Of course they wanted to build.

He looked down the hill at the autumn trees slowly losing their leaves to the brisk air. It would be cold soon but Gen wasn't worried, he had plenty of supplies to make it through winter. Barring a bandit raid or a fire of course. Gen didn't possess a fire extinguisher.

He shifted his gaze over to the faint outline in the distance. It to billowed smoke and ash. Gen shuddered as he remembered the more gruesome supply runs he'd done. The cities and towns were run by bandits. The Robber Barons were cruel and crushed any who stood in their way with brute force. Gen didn't blame them. The only way to survive was to kill or be killed. Although Gen believed in kindness, he would not let himself be blinded to reality.

A small engine whined in the distance. Gen sighed. The engine sounded so lonely.

Gen wished it would come nearer. He could use some company.

After a while, he stood, then returned to the cabin behind him. The sun glowed sullenly as it fell below the treeline. Gen shut the door behind him and sighed as he was met with the cozy fire he had lit hours ago. He glanced at his desk which was covered in sheets of paper then glanced down at his hands. In it, a small widget clicked and whirred slowly. Gen walked over and put it on his desk. Then he sat, and listened as it whirred to life, clicking gently a soft melody as Gen listened, smiling.

He lived for the little things. Far off engines that promised company, the textures of the sky, the moods of the light on the horizon. It helped him realize there were things worth living for and he found himself dedicated to spreading this feeling of determination.

Gen sighed and looked up at the ceiling as the music ended. He figured perhaps he was the only one smiling in this apocalypse.

Evan Kim|Chicago

I didn't know whether I was expecting several ghetto people to jump out at me with guns, or for the streets to be completely leveled and destroyed. Thankfully, Chicago wasn't in really bad shape. For the most part, I kept my eyes on the lookout for any crazy gangsters that could be lurking around, my hand straying to the backpack pocket holding my handgun.

I had finally made it to Chicago for the first time. My mom probably would have freaked out about me going there, and I myself was not too impressed by the city. Being from the Houston area, which I would say was a pretty safe place, I had always heard about how dangerous it was in Chicago. I had also heard that there were many people perfectly capable of working who just sat on their bums all day, waiting to be paid by the government so they could go and get high or drunk again. As I surveyed the graffiti on the walls, I was further convinced that Chicago would have been a horrible place for me to live if things hadn't . . .

I shook my head. Focus, Evan. You can't get distracted now. I glanced down and froze.

"Rina?" I said softly. I searched the street around me for her brown pelt. "Rina, where are you?" Usually, Rina would come soon after I called, but this time, she did not. I forced my tired feet forward as the sun sank lower in the sky.

What if she gets eaten by a wild animal? I thought as I heard a howl, and shuddered. Or what if--No. Stop, Evan Kim. Rina is fine. She's always fine.

"Rina," I called, desperation raising the volume of my voice as I kept walking. "Come here, kitty." I could feel panic rising within me. I just couldn't lose her too, not after . . . not after . . .

"Excuse me, is this your cat?"

I jumped and turned to see a young Asian man sitting by the road. Rina was clinging to his arm by her claws.

"Rina!" I rushed forward with a huge, irrepressible smile and pulled her away. "Thank you so much!" I glanced back down at the man's arm, trickling with a little blood. "And I'm, uh, sorry about your arm. Are you okay?"

"It's nothing," he said, shrugging. "I've faced worse."

I nodded, not knowing what to say next. We were both awkwardly silent for a few moments, until he said, "I'm Jae. What's your name?"

I blinked. "What? Oh. It's Evan. Nice to meet you."

Jae smiled a little. "I'm surprised someone still has courtesy anymore."

I shrugged. I had always been raised that way, especially since I lived in the South. I glanced down. "Well, you returned my cat to me. That was nice."

"I guess so," said Jae. I couldn't help but notice that he used a metal pole beside him to stand up, and my eyes widened even further when I saw his slightly twisted left leg, but I pretended not to pay special attention to it. I did wonder, however, how he'd managed to make it this far.

"You been around here long?" I asked casually, shoving a hand into my pocket while holding a squirming Rina in the other.

"No, not really, just a day or two."

"Who is this?" a voice asked. An Asian girl wearing a pack stepped close to Jae, scrutinizing me from head to toe. She didn't hide her obvious suspicion as she put a hand on Jae's arm. Somehow, she seemed familiar, but I couldn't place where I'd seen her before.

"Gi, this is Evan," said Jae, gently removing her hand from his arm. "He was looking for his cat. Evan, this is my younger sister."

"Oh, so that was your cat," the girl named Gi said, scowling at Rina.

"Did she cause you any trouble?" I asked worriedly. Gi opened her mouth but Jae said quickly, "Oh no, it's fine."

Gi rolled her eyes and flicked her dyed-brown ponytail over her shoulder. "We need to talk," she hissed, pulling Jae aside. The two began to speak in not-so-hushed, heated tones.

"You're thinking of letting him stay with us, aren't you?" demanded Gi. "Why? Is it because he's Asian like us? How can we trust him?"

"He's just a person in need of company, like us," replied Jae. "What makes you think he's out to get us?"

"He seems too nice and innocent to survive this! Bad guys look like that all the time!"

Jae sighed. "Most bad guys in real life don't even act like that in life-or-death situations. This isn't a movie!"

Suddenly, I realized they were speaking in Korean, my first language. The switch was so automatic in my head that I hadn't even noticed before. They must have thought I was Chinese or something, which was why they had started using Korean to communicate.

"You guys are Korean?" I asked in the language.

The two stared at me, then exchanged glances: Jae's guilty but also amused and impressed look, and Gi's horrified and irritated one.

"Yeah," replied Jae, smiling. "You caught us."

His sister frowned and crossed her arms, glaring. Something else finally clicked in my brain, and I dropped Rina, who hissed and paced sulkily.

"You're Gyeoung Hwang!" I exclaimed, staring at the girl. Then I looked at Jae. "And you're Jae-Young Hwang!"

Gyeoung raised an eyebrow. "So someone finally recognized me." She stiffened as we heard a chorus of yips and barks. "Evan, was it?"

"Uh, yes ma'am," I replied, glancing about cautiously.

"I need you to get my brother out of here," she said, drawing a knife. "There's a warehouse down that way. Go there with Jae-Young and wait."

"Gyeoung, I can fight too," protested Jae, but his sister glared at him.

"You will not fight," she snapped, "and that's final. I'll distract them and meet you guys later. Evan, take him and go now! And don't ever call me ma'am!"

Belladonna Alessandra Posada: Chicago

Belladonna felt she could never appreciate her father enough. It was probably thanks to him they were alive today, he’d, for example, had the good sense to empty a good load of cars of their fuel and load it all up in a few barrels just one day after the earthquake struck, between aftershocks. It was all piled up in a corner of the trailer, and would definitely get them to Chicago easily.

He’d also stocked up on dry and canned supermarket food while most others were questioning the ethics of breaking into a shop. Miguel Posada was a born survival artist, oh yes. It was also much to their benefit that upon hearing the news of an approaching earthquake, he talked his nephew into splitting the weapons in his weapons shop into two, leading to the formation of a mini artillery within the trailer.

Yes, Belladonna could never thank him enough.

“Ara, please get the rifles out along with the ammunition box.” She whispered to her sister. They had been driving for almost 6 hours without resistance on a highway; obviously no one had been stupid enough to drive on the day of the dreaded earthquake, so nothing hindered their movement except for the cracks running all over the roads. This however, was what the trailer was built for. Her mother estimated they would be reaching Chicago within the hour.

They had also seen a few other vehicles on their way to Chicago, but did not fear attack. Surely those people would know that if they made it so far, they would be pretty damn resourceful.

And they did. No one attacked them.

However, this did not stop Belladonna from fearing the people in Chicago. That one was a big city… Of course, that meant that there would be even less survivors over there, but those that had lived would be just as fortunate as they were if not more.
A loud thump interrupted her thoughts. Arabella had brought out the rifles and ammo.
“Very good, Ara.” Belladonna whispered “You still remember how to shoot, right?”

Arabella replied in the affirmative and demonstrated it for her perfectly. Belladonna gave her a rare smile.

“Alessandra!” their mother called suddenly, and Belladonna ran to her call. 500 metres ahead of them, was some sort of makeshift roadblock, with 5 or 6 men guarding it. They were holding simple rifles.

“Oui maman, you must stop the car. Arabella and I will handle it.” Belladonna reassured her.

After a minute, her mother had stopped at the roadblock and was talking to one of the men.

Belladonna heard the words give, food and half, and decided to take matters into her own hands.

She instructed Arabella to lock the trailer door behind her and hid her revolver back into her belt before getting out.

“Hi there, officers! Is there a problem with our trailer?” she asked brightly with a smile.

“Only that it’s carrying way too much.” One sniggered before attempting to grab at Bella, who sidestepped deftly.

“Well, what would you like from us? We haven’t got much but we’d like to share.” Bella said, keeping the smile on her face. She was trying to make them think she was desperate to be left alone, and it was working so far.

“Half your food, and your ammunition if you have it” The man said gruffly, without hesitation. Belladonna could see the spoils from their previous visitors behind him; dried food, blankets, pillows…

“I do not know if I can give you a lot of food, seeing as we are living on dry packets of Ramen right now, and our ammunition is limited to revolver bullets, if you’ll be able to use them have some.” Bella said, letting just enough tremor to seep into her voice to give the impression of fear and desperation.

“I think we’ll see that for ourselves, young lady.” The man sneered before heading to the door.

“Arabella, open the door please.” Belladonna called sweetly.

Presently, the door was kicked open and Arabella met the man head on with a beautiful hunting rifle. Before he understood what was going on, he had three holes on his chest.

Belladonna took out her revolver in the process and shot at a man who was running at her in the leg, he fell down. She put one more bullet in his head to silence him.

The remaining men were converging in front of the trailer, attempting to move it and push it over. One of them actually shot at the windows of the trailer, breaking them and trying to squeeze in through the windows. Belladonna looked in fear for her mother, who sat hunched behind the steering wheel, with a bleeding wound on her face.

Just like she used to in those days without her father.

“MAMAN! MAMAN! GET UP MAMAN!” Belladonna screamed desperately, Arabella had, in the meantime, run into the trailer and was shaking her mother madly.

As if woken from a trance, Mrs. Posada suddenly shook and blinked. She looked in fear at the men in front of her and suddenly stepped on the gas, running them over in the process. Belladonna didn’t need to check to know they were dead.

“Arabella! Move fast, grab whatever we may need and don’t have and let’s go!” Bella screamed as Arabella ran outside once more.

“Maman. Tout va bien se passer… C’est d’accord…” Belladonna whispered quietly into her shaking mother’s ear as she held her tightly.

“We have to go maman… We cannot stay.”

Mrs. Posada nodded once more and sighed. She would recover in time; the first kills were always the hardest.

Arabella was making rounds between the trailer and the food source, taking in all their food, their blankets and pillows, all their weapons and ammunition.

After Arabella shut the door behind her, she nodded to Belladonna who tapped her mother on the shoulder.

“Let’s go.”

And so they drove away.

Their first glimpse of Chicago amazed all of them. It must have been very beautiful before the Quake. Arabella had been watching from the shattered windows, waving at the people she passed. When Belladonna had finished sorting out the new food, she went to see her waving at a foreign pair, probably Asian. They were even waving back and smiling, well the boy was.

That girl was probably up to something. Bella didn’t like her look.

“Arabella, let’s go, honey. Don’t let them see us.” Bella urged, with a hand around her sisters shoulder.

“I think they need help, Donnie, they haven’t got much at all, and we have all these…” She gestured to the heap of food in the van.

“Honey, we can’t help everyone we see, you know.” Bella whispered as her sister slumped down on a couch.

“I know, but I’d like to help at least these two…” she whispered. Maybe she’d had enough of killing people in cold blood, like monsters. Belladonna glimpsed the rifle she had thrown in a corner out of the corner of her eye.

Belladonna sighed and got up to tell her mother to turn back and stop when she saw an Asian pair.

However, as they were moving, the sound of wild dogs yelping horribly reached their ears. Arabella immediately hid under a couch. It was funny how a girl who’d just shot a man in cold blood was so afraid of them. Belladonna pouted. Nothing would ever, EVER, scare her sister. She banged on the wall and her mother stopped the van.

“Lock yourselves in.” she said before jumping out with the hunting rifle Arabella had thrown and running towards the noise. As she ran, a horrible scream echoed in the air, a female scream. Belladonna ran faster and reached the area just in time to see a girl slit a dog's throat with a kitchen knife, which was pretty impressive. She quickly shot one of the remaining dogs in the leg, then the chest and watched as the remaining dogs ran away, afraid of the noise.

The girl, who was now covered in dog blood, sat down, shaking visibly. Bella thought she would be shaking if she'd just slit a dog's throat open too.

There was something familiar about her. Where had she seen her?

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I think they need help, Donnie, they haven’t got much at all, and we have all these…”

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The Asian girl!!

All Belladonna could think about was how happy Arabella would be as she ran towards the girl.

Spoiler

sorry for the early post, I just felt I had to find them before they went.

Geyoung Hwang/Surrounded by dogs.

"I'm not leaving you." A dog jumped at me and I quickly stabbed it through the head.
I yanked my knife out of its skull. The other dogs hesitated, eyeing the corpse with fear glinting in their eyes.

"Fine, don't leave." I scrambled up onto a small mound of rubble, and the pack followed the moving target. Taking care to look them in the eye, I kept running, the dogs giving chase. I could hear them baying, but it wasn't enough to drown out Jae calling after me. I pressed myself faster. He wouldn't be fast enough to catch me with his leg, but the pack of half starved carnivores behind me sure were.
I kept running until I felt like collapsing, then turned to face the dogs, my knife clenched tightly in my hand. Most of my attackers had given up and ran off to look for easier prey, leaving only four big, fit looking canines. Most likely the ones who ate their packmates. Great.
One of them growled and began to creep forward, hackles raised and teeth bared in a bloodstained snarl.It's three buddies watched, tails wagging a little in anticipation. The next moment, I was on the ground with my knife just out of reach, trying to wrestle the huge canine off of me. The animal gave a frustrated snarl, and it's teeth sunk into my shoulder. I clenched my own jaw as the pain seared down my arm.
The dog lashed it's head side to side. A scream tore from my throat as the animal tore at my shoulder, shaking me until I felt almost sick with the pain and rapid movement.
I reached out as the dog swung me closer to my knife, and managed to snatch it up before it dragged me away again. I twisted around, and drove it into the dog's throat.
It stopped thrashing me around, it's eyes shooting wide. I slashed down, opening a gash down its windpipe. Dark blood, warm and sticky, spattered everywhere. Everything seemed to stop for a few moments. the dog attacking me, still with my shoulder in its mouth, stood rigid, staring out at nothing. The other three watched, also seemingly frozen. The only sound for the next few seconds was my ragged breathing. Then the dog one top of me crumpled, its jaw going slack. I caught myself before I could faceplant on the sidewalk.

The silence was broken by a gunshot. I looked back, dazedly noticing one of the three remaining dogs were dead. The other two turned tail and ran. Someone was running towards me. Never a good sign. I pushed myself into a sitting position, and the world swam in front of my eyes. I braced my hands against the curb, taking deep breaths. The figure stopped in front of me. It was a tall blonde girl about twice my size and toting a revolver. I glared up at her, moving my knife hand to where it was between me and her gun. Even when I wasn't weak and badly injured, she could've fired her gun before I could get close enough to attack. If she had wanted to kill me, she would've done it when she shot those dogs. But I was prepared to fight, and she needed to know that. The gunner slung her weapon across her back and put her hands out in front of her. I lowered my knife a little.

"What do you want?"

The gunner ignored my tone.

"My name is Belladona Posada. I have a proposition for you."