Prologue- Mark

Written in Mark's point of view

          I glanced around the empty buildings, fear bubbling within my chest. With no idea where to go, I just began running. If I wanted to stay alive within this labyrinth of a dead city, I would have to stay alert and swift on my feet. The tall empty skeletons of buildings seemed to laugh at me, mocking my futile attempt to stay alive. I gritted my teeth, willing myself to keep going. If i gave up then, I knew I would die.

          My nerves seemed to be on fire as I glanced nervously behind my back. Any second they would find me and kill me, unless I found a place to hide. There were millions of places to go within this dead city, each of them offering me some level of protection, but for how long?
    
          In the distance, I could hear the faint howling of the hounds, an ominous sound that drove goose bumps up and down my arms. They were getting closer by the second. Where were the others? I had no way of knowing if they were even still alive or not. My group had been small, only about ten people, but as soon as we were released, they ran for their lives.

          I had ran too, as fast as my legs could carry me. Of course we had all gotten a head start, but we knew that didn't matter. They were going to find and kill us no matter where we went. Escape was just a dream. That's what we had been told, in the beginning. That's what we had all believed.

          This was their sick game. For their pleasure, we were hunted down and killed like animals. They treated us without mercy, but what could we do? We were the rebels, the outcasts, the hunted.