Newspaper
“I won’t be able to figure out what the cause was without an actual source.” You take to the sky, starting to search for a newsstand, magazine, or person who might leak to you what happened in this town.
For nearly an hour of circling and flapping your wings, gliding on the gusts of wind you hear voices.
“Ah! They might say something-” You veer towards them, finding a gathered in an alley, all seated and slouching over crates and wooden slats used to haul or store alcohol shipments from the bars on either side of them, now only looted and now running.
You perch above, seated on the edge of the above roof, staring down at the group. They are garbed as though they played outfit jigsaw puzzles with supplies from any official location in the town, some with police vests others wearing thick hunter’s coats and some in army greens.
“Scavengers...”
Softly, they are talking amongst themselves.
“Nothing’s been the same since the bomb!”
“War changes everything, Scott. You knew that was the truth, you’ve just been tricking yourself. No one is going to come back from this wreckage. It’s not re-birth we can have... It’s survival.”
“No! What’s the point of that?”
“Rumor has it the bomb didn’t take out everything-”
“Shut up!”
You feel a jolt, realizing the tension in the group. They all have guns and bows slung over their shoulders, outfitted for survival. You realize the crater must be from the bomb.
Written by Picklessauce69 on 20 June 2016