I was left standing at the edge of the crumbling building, and my eyes scanned the horizon of what was New York City. The sprawling metropolis had now been reduced to ruins, reclaimed by nature and haunted by the remnants of a war that wasn't ours. It's hard even to imagine that only just over a decade ago, the streets below had been full of life. Now, they were just a dangerous labyrinth of decay and despair.
"Michael, come on! We need to find something good today," Jack's voice dragged me into the present. Jack Parks, my best friend ever and the closest thing that I could have called a brother, was already rummaging through the remains of a convenience store with his usual optimistic grin plastered on his face.
"I know, I know. Just give me a moment," I said back as I stepped away from the edge. We weren't supposed to be up here scavenging alone, but in our new harsh reality, necessity often overrode rules. Food meant living a few more weeks or so. Since Judgment Day, survival had become a daily struggle.
"Aha!" Jack's shout of triumph went like a peal through the deserted street. "Look! Dog food in a can!" He declared, the pride of a boy who had found treasure.
"Great. We can throw it in one of the ration piles, but we really have to go." My eyes flitted nervously to the sky; already, the sun was dipping and casting long shadows across the rubble. The surface was dangerous enough during the day, but after dark, it was a death sentence. No one that has ever stayed awake after sunset without concealing themselves and an element of fortune has ever made it till the morning.
"Yeah, yeah, sure, sure." Jack was still optimistic as ever, even on the verge of disaster. Quickly, we foraged for whatever was valuable and relocated towards the colony, retracing our steps through the concrete wilderness. Climbing, running, and leaping over obstacles, we had to learn to adapt to our new reality. The colossal structures of stone and metal that had once housed hundreds of people were now covered in vines and tree roots, some as thick and wide enough to climb and walk on. However, the buildings were so eroded that one step couldn't mean a total collapse, just another way reality changed.
"What do you want to bet that when we get back the scavengers will have hauled in a load of canned peaches and oranges?" Jack was laughing then, one of the few times anyone had heard such a sound in that forsaken place.
"That would be the day," I laughed, too, feeling my face finally pull up into some semblance of a smile. "I'm just hoping van hasn't noticed we're gone yet, otherwise she'll probably lock us up for the next two years." It had been over a year since we had found anything of real value. Each expedition yielded less, and fewer people returned.
"Relax, no one probably even knows we're— Thump. THUMP even during the day death could always show up at any moment. THUMP Humanity first tried to fight; the guns couldn't do anything. None of what we had built to defend ourselves could even leave a scratch. In the end, there was only one thing we could do.
"Run," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
We sprinted with all our strength, the earth trembling beneath us. The trees had taken over the city, a blessing and a curse: their huge roots provided both passageways and impediments. One of these green giants was our entrance—a narrow gap hidden by thick vines and foliage.
"Faster, Jack!" I shouted over the rumble. Jack's face, usually so cheerful, was now a mask of determination.
"There! Almost there!" I pointed to the little opening. With a last sprint of speed, we reached it. Jack dove through first, and I followed, tumbling down a slight slope into the subterranean passageway. We lay there, gasping for breath, the earth still quaking above our heads. Jack's normal grin was nowhere in sight as he spoke seriously.
"That. That was too close."
"Yeah," I said shakily. "They've never been this close to camp before. It's only a matter of time until they find us."
We got up, dusting the earth off our rags, and made our way through the dimly lit tunnel toward the main part of the colony. The walls were lined with makeshift lanterns, casting flickering shadows as we walked. A few of them were haggard and worn, and a few faces much like my own peered back with a feeling of relief.
"Any luck out there?" one asked.
Jack held up the can of dog food with a rueful smile. "Just this. But it's better than nothing."
In the main chamber, our small community gathered around a central fire pit. The closest thing to conversation on the air now overlain with its murmur, deepened by the below crackling of fire. We all seemed to have a good bit of camaraderie and resilience in such a bad situation. Van. She was my adoptive mother, a leader of the colony: Vanessa Hartting. She looked stern in her eyes yet softened them when she arrived at us.
"Where were you two, how many times have I told you not to go to the surface," she said, her voice a mix of relief and reprimand. "How do you think it looks to everyone, if my own sons won't even respect or listen to me, what makes you think the others will?"
"Sorry van, but we are running low on rations," I protested. "We need everything we can get, we're not kids anymore."
"You're my kids!" she replied, her face growing pinkish, as the veins along her temple became vaguely visible. Before pausing and sighing for a moment. "Did you even find anything?"
"Dog food only," he replied, passing her the can. "On our way back, we almost ran into a Helborn." When the Hell Horde burst through the ground, many monstrosities poured in that day. Some were small, but a very few were tall and as large as 7-story buildings.
Vanessa nodded, her expression grave. "They are coming nearer each day now." Her voice made my throat dry. "is it possible they are looking for us? "
"I am just not sure," Vanessa confessed. "However, at the gathering tonight, we will discuss it."
Finally, as the evening approached, the scavenging party came back. It was a lamentable scene. Half of the team remained out, and the majority returned in a very critical condition. It was a reminder, dark and uncomfortable, of the peril in which we lived every day. By now, it had become something the sight of which most had grown numb, or had stopped caring altogether; feelings of loss had been almost entirely replaced by one thought: 'less mouths to feed.'
That night, the colony gathered to discuss our dwindling resources and the growing threat of monsters. We huddled within the central chamber, lit by just a few flickering flames. The room was little more than a chambered tomb with coarse-hewn walls, having the fearful air of desperate intent. Vanessa was before us; the worry lines etched into her face, deep as gashes, did not break her stance.
"We have to face the facts," she began, and her voice carried the weight of leadership. "We're damn near out of food, and the Helborn are roaming closer every day. If we don't starve, sooner or later they're going to find us. We can't stay here."
Arguments erupted almost immediately. The first to speak was Greg, a burly man with a grizzled beard who had once been a construction worker. "We need to make an opening to the surface where sunlight gets in," he insisted, being loud and persistent. "We need to finally start growing some food."
"Are you insane?" shouted back Linda, a former nurse whose tongue was as sharp as they came. " some of Those monsters can also fly, you idiot! If one finds us and gets through, we're all dead!"
"What other options do we have?" Greg shot back, frustration evident in his tone. "We can't keep living like this. We're barely surviving!"
Elena, an old woman who had become our unofficial historian, spoke up, her voice calm yet firm. "We have to leave and go look for a safer place," she declared, her eyes showing all that she had undergone. "There must be places less infested than here."
"And how do you propose we move such a large group?" argued Tom, a young man who had taken on the role of strategist. "We'd be exposed and vulnerable before we even made it a mile. Remember what happened last time a group tried to relocate?"
We all fell silent, remembering what became of the previous expedition: slaughtered to the last person by the Helborn. The somber realization of our collective fate settled over us like a thick, suffocating blanket.
Vanessa cleared her throat to regain our attention. "We have no Choice, if we stay here we will die. one way or another, there is only one way we can look for a safe heaven. and at the same time stay off from starving." vans eyes turn cold. we all knew what she was about to say. but even then we still dreaded the words. "we need to start sending people out, we will send out one person at random each month if no one volunteers. one person can move faster than a whole group. and it will buy us time before our food runs out."
The crowd murmured in disagreement, yet nobody had a better plan. The very idea of sending someone out alone was horrific, but necessity was an undeniable fact.
So the drawing took place the next morning. Our group assembled in the central chamber, tension thick enough to slice. Vanessa stood with a small, battered box. A thousand slips of paper inside; each name a lifeline, each draw a potential death sentence. Vanessa's heart sank as she reached in and pulled out a slip of paper. "Lily," she announced.
A gasp traveled around the room. The young mother held her baby son close as she approached the horror before her. Her cries of mercy were sent through the hollow. "NO, GOD PLEASE NO! you can't send me out there you can't!"
van looked over at the poor mother she knew she was killing her and there was no one her could take care of the infant. and so not only was condemning one person. she was also condemning the life of an innocent infant. " I'm sorry Lilly, But your name was drawn."
"I'll go" a voice broke through the cries.