The Fate of a Survivor: Of Foes and Woes

Chapter Four: The beginning

20 years later...

At six foot three, he stood tall, easily towering over everybody in the cramped hall.

Elyon sighed and somehow his long nearly shoulder-length hair moved with the slight action.

He's been waiting in line for the past hour.

John was going to become impatient soon. John was his friend and he was a big foodie too.

Was this how every refugee camp was?

The last one he'd been at was at least decent, well until it was raided, leaving the nearly two hundred and something survivors homeless and many more dead.

This was the world they lived in now. It was the year 2039. Nuclear warheads had reduced the world to a toxic wasteland.

Now all that was left were Shelters built in cities of old to house the remaining survivors. The truth was, there weren't many of them left.

About two hundred Shelters remained around the world.

The camp wasn't much. It was named after a tree, Maple.

There was even a story behind it, he would ask about it later, maybe.

The person in front of him was a cranky old lady that was swearing up and down at the inconvenience and how poorly the hall was being managed.

Though, in the attendant's defence, there were a lot of people on the line.

I hear you, Karen.

Soon it remained only two people in front of him.

Finally.

They would be having macaroni and cheese. He hated cheese but there was no room for complaints.

Although he hated it, John loved it to bits.

It was just about his turn when there was a commotion behind him.

Arguments and fights were frequent here. He wasn't complaining though, they were always fun to watch.

Excited, he turned around and saw a man and a petite woman. He raised his eyebrow.

What the h*ll was going on?

Onsight the burly man looked about three times the size of the woman, but she looked very fierce and adamant, like a cute little rabbit against a big bad wolf.

Elyon hadn't been here long and he avoided conversations as much as possible.

He wasn't much of a people's person, so he knew absolutely no one.

He shrugged. He didn't have to get involved.

Soon the Watch would come and split them up anyway.

Old lady Karen moved her tray—grumbling as she did so—and soon it was his turn.

He nodded his head at the chef in charge who gave him his rations only to be met with disgust.