One

The sound of her footsteps against the torn pavement was drowned by the whistling of bombs. The sky, normally a dull gray-green, was now black with smog and occasionally lit up a dark fiery orange. These were the times where people would rush into their bunkers until it was over… but not her. Emma’s boots kicked debris out of the way, ash settling on the red straps. The night crawled with Trogs, cannibalistic creatures that were once human and are set on taking out every last human survivor.

In World World III of 2025, the United States had declared war on all the other countries to gain rule and power over the world. In self defense, the other countries began bombing the U.S. and sending in machines to kill, releasing a fog poisoned with radioactive chemicals into the air, making everyone sick.  Some of the machines had gone MIA as the U.S. started reprogramming them and sending them back. It was a bloody war and unfortunately no one won in the end. More than half of the world’s population had been killed off, cities had become unrecognizable, and there were creatures with horrific mutations crawling around in the dark everywhere. You had to do what you could in order to survive. The air was hot and smelled of burned skin as there were fires constantly burning almost everywhere and the polluted air burning through our atmosphere. They always warned us about global warming, and we never listened because when have humans listened to anything good that would one day save us? Now because of this, everyone pays the ultimate price.

Emma could hear it. The breathing. It was heavy and raspy as if someone were struggling through pierced lungs. It came from behind and beside her, filling her heart with dread. She had never been afraid before, this had been her routine for years. But this time was different.

She was out numbered.
She clenched her bandage-wrapped fists. I can do this. I am my own weapon.

From the side of a long abandoned vehicle came a creature that looked like the personification of a nightmare. It had pale gray skin, each spinal nub visible, its eyes a milky white and bulging, long yellowing nails sharpened into talons, mouths cut open at the sides to allow them to fully open their jaws all lined with jagged teeth. It walked on all fours, its back arched, and was creeping towards its prey.

Emma coiled up her fist and struck a blow to the side of the creature’s head, sending it reeling backwards. Another lept out, screeching, and tried to drag its long claws down the green-haired girl’s spine. She whirled back and caught it in the throat, causing the creature to choke. The two stumbled before regaining balance and began to circle her, snarling. They threw themselves at her, scratching and biting until her skin went from a dark tan to purple and blue with bruises and scarlet with blood. She fought back though, and put all her force and might into attempting to throw them off.

There was a whistle in the distance and the creatures stopped and simultaneously searched the air for a scent. Suddenly they jumped off and ran, whimpering like dogs. Emma dropped to her knees, her short pants stained with dirt. Confused and injured, she forced herself back to her knees and continued on her path back to where she set up her camp. She had been moving from place to place trying to find her home. She left for a short while before everything went down to visit a friend but when she was on her way back, that’s when things got off track. Now with the land disfigured, she didn’t have a clue as to how to get home.

She shifted on wobbly knees, trying to walk comfortably to no avail. Why had that fight ended so quickly? What did they hear? Emma couldn’t walk any further, her body ached too much. She pulled to the nearest remnants of what was somewhat recognizable as a house and walked inside. Half the building was gone but there was still a basement intact. Climbing gingerly down the stairs she searched the walls for a light. A small string with a ball at the end dangled from somewhere on the ceiling and it hit her in the face weakly. Pulling on it, the light filled as much of the room as it could with it’s musky yellow glow. The room smelled of various disgusting smells and the outlines of two small bodies could be seen hunched over in one corner. Emma sighed. She was used to these things, even if it made her heart ache.

There was a disheveled bean bag chair with beads spilling out of it off to one side which she promptly fell on top of and tried to fall asleep. Hopefully she was safe here.

She dreamt of the night everything happened. The night where the road was lifted up and smashed back down by a menacing machine about twice the size of her Chevy Impala, destroying the beautiful car. Emma had been lucky enough to get out in time; her friend was not. She let out a silent scream as the dream faded to black and ended.

Sunlight found its way inside through a crack in the ceiling and startled Emma awake. Sunlight?! But how?! She ignored her body screeching in agony and raced up the stairs, slamming the broken basement door open. It wasn't sunlight that she saw, but instead the headlights of a vehicle that had been thrown and was facing in an awkward position.

"S**t, how am I supposed to get out?! Dean, crowbar, now." The voices echoed outward and glass shattering could be heard not a minute later. A skinny girl with long black hair stepped out and stood up staring at the car with her hands on her hips. She was tall, incredibly tall. She had long skinny arms covered in bruises. She wore a white tank top and blue skinny jeans all torn and bloodied.

“Come on, seriously we need to find another ride. We don’t have time either, you saw that thing that rammed into us!”

After that, someone else shuffled out of the car in a timid and frightened manor. He was shorter but lanky, he had bright pink hair and two black streaks of paint on either side of his face. He wore a mash-up of white, pink, and black clothes with a black studded belt.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” his voice vibrated and his eyes widened in fear when he saw Emma standing staring at them with slowly raising fists.

“WHO’S THAT?!” he screeched.

The girl whirled around and stared Emma back down. The two girls hadn’t moved for what felt like centuries before Emma finally stepped forward and tried to get closer. Now that she could see them even better, she saw how tired and injured they really were. They were just lost people like her. The girl crossed her arms sassily.

“Who are you? Well? Spit it out!” the girl spat with a raised eyebrow and a serious attitude that made Emma want to cringe.

“I- I’m not sure she can.” The other tugged at the girl’s sleeve gently.

Emma nodded in agreement and trailed her fingers across her lips. They were sewn shut with thick black thread. The girl cringed and shuddered.

“Oh, well, do you know sign language?”

Emma nodded and raised her bandaged hands to tell them her name. “Emma.” And the girl smiled.

"Hey, Emma. I'm Maddox. This is Dean."

Emma smiled back. "You two need a ride?" She ran to the other side of the torn home and opened the off-centered door hanging by one hinge. There was a motorcycle rammed in the bushes so she pulled it out and brought it inside. She noticed it earlier but payed no mind to it. Maddox clapped slowly in amusement.

"I think we're going to be good friends."