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     The young girl sat atop a small broken structure with her binoculars raised. She was a master of balance, which is proven by her relaxed sitting postute on a small surface. 

     The blonde was about sixteen years of age, much too young to be out on her own by most people's standards. However, after the events of the past few years, it was understandable why people like her were alone.

    "Run! Get out of here!" Her family screamed at her as the sounds of bombs went off. People running to get to bomb shelters, to escape the terrible sounds of the war. Most people didn't make it. 
     Their bodies were never found; just rumored of. You never knew who had actually died until, well..never. Or maybe you died and this was Hell itself.
     It was quite possible.

     The girl pauses as she spots someone through her binoculars. They must have spotted her, too, based on their binoculars aimed towards her. She mumbles a curse and purposefully falls back behind her skimpy shelter. She grabs a rifle she had stowed back there and raises her binoculars to find the boy again.

     He was gone. There was no sign of him. No sign that even the dust had moved with his likely hasty retreat. He had simply vanished.

     Zoe narrows her eyes as she lowers the binoculars. He couldn't have just disappeared; that was impossible.

     She'd keep an eye out for that boy, even if it meant keeping one eye open at night to watch for him.

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