Adventure
The Great Dry Spell
Sweat poured down my face collecting on the collar of my shirt. The sun is being particularly brutal to us today, and the only protection I have from its harsh rays is this straw hat I found in an abandoned shop we looted about two towns over, in some place called Keats. The only thing keeping me sane on this journey is the familiar sound of Jess complaining and Campbell’s uncanny ability to ignore her so completely. This of course only makes her squawk even louder pushing me ever so closer to insanity. I couldn’t be that far off from it at this point.
By Crystal Taylor5 years ago in Fiction
Log Book #3
Date: Aug 3, 2100 *Aug 5 According to these logs, it has been 4 days since I left home although I don't remember if I have missed making entries. The last couple of logs are barely legible, which isn't surprising; the only thing I DO remember is how sick I was.
By Megan MacLean5 years ago in Fiction
Scavvers
“I don’t like the look of those clouds out east, let’s make this one quick.” The words played over in Nim’s head, reminding her to keep moving every time she stopped and lingered. Her gloved hands moved in a practiced pattern as she combed through the bedroom. Top to bottom. Left to right. This wasn’t her first time picking over the bones of an old house, it had been her job to do so for nearly a year now. ‘Scavvers’ they were called. An ugly name for the unglamorous occupation of searching through ruins of days long gone for any resources that could be hauled back home to Little Oak.
By Heather Talley5 years ago in Fiction
When All This Is Over
Cat wakes promptly at 7am and reaches to the nightstand for her glass of water. Her fingers briefly graze something slender, smooth, and suddenly mobile before she snatches her hand back and focuses her eyes on the table. They said cockroaches can survive anything – even an apocalypse. The unfortunate reality is that it’s the cockroaches and herself.
By M.P. Brooks5 years ago in Fiction
Empires of Oasis
Four days out from the Oasis and already I was starting to regret this venture. The trek through the desert was murderous. I don’t mean it was strenuous, I mean it was actively trying to kill me. Devilish quicksand, perilously treacherous paths through rocky crags, Goliath lizards and venomous snakes. And the heat. There was no sunshine, obviously, none since the Reset, but enough UV light forced it’s was through the yellow haze between the ground and the sky to bake the desert floor to an extent that heat emanated up like a dry frying pan. If you stood for too long in one spot, your boots would start to melt. Yep, this was feeling less and less like a good idea. I adjusted my sand goggles and looked back in the direction I had come from. I thought for a second I could see a faint, silvery shimmer of the Oasis on the horizon, but all before me was yellow-grey rocks and sand, undulating for miles.
By Ben Halligey5 years ago in Fiction
Fading Memories
Garrett Flynn, after surviving unfathomable odds and living a miraculous life for 87 years, was dying. As he lay in bed, covered by his tattered, sweat soaked flannel nightshirt, breathing noisily, he slowly gazed around the room, barely able to discern the figures surrounding him. The beeping of the monitors in the sterilized room were the only discernable sounds beyond his labored breathing. His disheveled appearance, dried split lips, whiskered face, and unwashed white hair contrasted sharply with the starched linen pillowcase and the antiseptic environment he was in at the military hospital.
By Rodney Davis5 years ago in Fiction
Devolved
And she burned as she cried, betrayal hot in her lungs and anger burning through her veins. For she had given and given and all we had done was to take everything she had to offer until she was left with nothing. And still, even then, we continued to claw at her, digging deeper and deeper drawing out every ounce of blood that we could.
By AllAroundTheWorld5 years ago in Fiction
The Permanence Fallacy
T-minus 03:27:00 Amidst blaring alarms and flashing red ceiling panels, Garrett dodged the overhead swing from the guard and grabbed the surprised attacker's wrist as the electrified baton hit the floor. Wrenching the weapon away and striking with swift motion to the back of the neck, there was a sudden sound of crackling electricity. His opponent hit the floor with the momentum of the strike and the unconsciousness of an individual just hit with a couple thousand volts to the neck.
By Jeff Rubenstein5 years ago in Fiction
Across the Valley
Before the collapse, I was an artist. Without really knowing, I’d been preparing for this. Not by prepping bunkers. Not as an internet crier. Instead, I made pieces. Some were made for people. Fewer of whom by collaborative productions of our labors, or intimacy and vulnerability, have fragments as well. This includes from those who were cast out of my circle, and I from theirs. Yet, even those pieces inspired gratitude for the tragedy, and laughter.
By Romario Powell5 years ago in Fiction
Faultline
“Oh! Hold up!” exclaimed Ollie. “I found a hotspot!” A loud screech pierced ears as Old Skool and Skelly performed a power-slide, polypropylene wheels burning streaks into the pavement, as their skateboards halted just before their friend, Ollie. He waved his smartphone erratically, trying to find a signal.
By Erik Steen5 years ago in Fiction
MICROCONTAMINATED 2093
The year is 2093. I wish I lived 70 years earlier. I've heard stories of people eating fish and meat in the past. I don't know how they taste. I've never tried. We're not fortunate enough for that. Microplastic contamination has taken over everything. I hate broccoli but that's the only staple food now.
By Rajaroy Joseph Alphonse5 years ago in Fiction
