DYSTOPIA | BOOK 2 of Death of the Future Series

TWELVE

MICHAEL 

It had been a few days but Michael knew he found the final base when he spotted the trail blaze. It was a huge mark but it was a clever one. He had to travel rocky, bumpy hills where the trees started to become shorter and shorter the higher he climbed. Soon, he was trampling through sharp thorns and branches that would bend and slap his face. A few of them tugged and ripped his skin in long scratches but he kept moving.

A little pain wasn't going to stop him now.

Soon, the grounds became more stable. Less muddy, wet.

The path became devoid of various hues of green. What welcomed him was concrete, dust and rubbles on it as it transitioned from brown soil. Buildings in ruin stood up from the ground, stones and rusted metal lying on every step of his way. There were weeds protruding from the dusty floors and veins climbing the walls and through the cracks of the cement buildings.

There was nothing here to signal life besides Michael's own breathing, harsh and heavy from the exertion.

And the mark he was looking for stood in front of him, just another ten more minutes of walk once he reached into the zone of an abandoned town. Keeping his ears out for anything suspicious, he kept his shoulders tight and eyes zoned right at what was ahead. Standing tall, tilted a little to the right with top half of the building gone, was the landmark he was trying to find. It was just like any other rotted, crumbling architecture here to the untrained eye.

But Michael knew better.

He knew this was the place.

If he walked into the gaping hole which was once a door, he would come into a large space, devoid of anything to remind him of the building's past. Just a ground with grass and small flowers growing through the gaps and light narrowing into a spotlight in the middle of it, dark shadows surrounding areas the sun couldn't get to.

Etched on one of the pillars right at the entrance was a small symbol. Carved into the cement. It looked just like any other dents and nothing interesting, merely a sign that whatever happened to this place had an impact to its interior as much as it had to the exterior — followed by the course of nature from years it was left to decay affecting it. But Michael knew this was the trail blaze he was supposed to find besides the big landmark.

That symbol that looked like a smile, exactly at this pillar, second from the entrance, was the one he was to find.

His heart raced.

He was near.

A few more steps and he would be welcomed to what he hoped to be where the rest of his people were. Desperately, with every fibre he could muster in him, he hoped that the remainder of the Uprising had arrived. He was overdue by two days because of the path he had to take, but if his calculations were correct, everyone else, or at least the majority of them should have arrived by now.

Stepping closer to the brightest spot in the middle of the area, he took in a deep breath. He glanced around the place. There was nothing that stood out to him to indicate the entrance of the new base. A frown spread on his lips and his eyebrows furrowed. He turned his body into a circle, cataloguing each nook and cranny that caught his attention.

Still, there wasn't anything that made him think it was the entrance.

That was when he heard it.

A very quiet hiss sliced through the air.

From his peripheral vision, what was once a patch of the ground disappeared, revealing a metal square. A square with a familiar looking latch. He took cautious steps toward it. Rationally, this door could only belong to the last base but it was better to be safe than sorry.