After several hours of undisturbed sleep, Raven stirred, waking with a start. Pitch black surrounded him, and it took a few moments to remember where and why he was there. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and stretched out his stiff back. Despite the blankets and sleeping bags, the platform had still been hard and cold to sleep on.
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Two at a time, the clan swelled to almost their full size at the end of the station platform next to the underground tunnel portal.
Raven: Just Seb and Red to come now guys. Those with torches make sure you conserve the batteries, we’re gonna need them.
Samson: I’ve got a spare one if that helps.
Red looked around at the group of faces, the same faces that had trusted him to keep them all safe for so long. The crushing weight of responsibility weighed heavily on his heart, however, now was not the time to dwell on feelings, rather it was time to engage the head and the street smarts that had served him well over the last few years. As he looked, each face told a different story, yet each had the same fear, concern and determination etched behind the grimy smears, along with just one or two tears.
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As soon as they returned to the basement, Red wasted no time.
Red: Everyone, listen up. The Marauders are getting too damn close, it’s only a matter of time before they find us, and we can’t take that risk. The basement is no longer safe – we need to move, and we need to move tonight. Pack what you need, whatever food we have left, a bottle of water and be ready to move as soon as we can. Help each other.
The Great Collapse came after the virus. The virus had wiped-out ninety-nine percent of the Earth’s population, over the space of just two years. Three years later, only a remnant of the population remained, leaving what was once a thriving advanced civilization, to one of basic survival – survival of the fittest, strongest and smartest.
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Screw Pile Developments 