Walls shaking, barricades crumbling, the fort has fallen apart. Exiles have hit the camp outside the Walgreens. How did they know we were here? The cocky Exile’s stormed through the fort, no mercy, leaving no survivors. They didn’t see Jenna. Jenna laid beneath debris, leftovers of a nest crushing Jenna’s shin. Pain bites down and tears escape Jenna, praying the Exiles do not discover her. Citrus breeze relocates rocks and wood chips through out the rubble. Scent of blood and death overcame the citrus as quickly as it came. Bodies of Jenna’s friends were no longer breathing. Fredrick, Max, Rose. Different tears erupt through Jenna this time. Doing her best to quiet, a man with a large belly, stripped jacket, and p-shooter strapped to his shoulder began passing through the remains. The belly has two followers, two more Exiles. The other is a short woman, brunette messy hair, a green tank top tucked into high wasted grey pedal pushers finished with a golden steel belt. The woman wielded her p-shooter, hoping to find another victim. Defined figure, thin waste and long legs, without a flaw from a distance. The last Exile is a younger man, a worn grey thermal, tan cargo pants held up with a seat buckle. Weapon strapped to his back, maybe even a virgin. Up kept black chucks and a dull green scarf were this kids signature. Exiles crossed the rubble in direction of the medical supplies.
“No reason to kill everyone. Could of taken the path Lauren laid out for us,” The young blond kid said.
The girl smirked to this, “Going to have to man up Luke. Outlaws will kill you first chance they get and today we got them before they got us.”
“Still could have avoided this,” Luke responds. “If you didn’t want to take the path we could have waited for Lauren to lead this run.”
The girl did not like this. The name Lauren made her furious, “We don’t need Lauren to hold our hand. If your going to be such a bitch about it, don’t come next time.” She’s such a brute.
They were closer to the ruble concealing Jenna. The belly walks past with the brute, unconcerned with the rubble. Luke’s eyes were large and blue and filled with tears and sadness. Wiping his eyes, looked down, into Jenna’s eyes. Subconsciously grabbed his p-shooter, never removing it from it’s back strap. Luke notices the broken leg of Jenna and peers at the backs of the belly and the brute. Luke lets go of his p-shooter and removes a military grade knife from his ankle, drops it near, and smiles. He’s so handsome, his eyes are large blue stars. Luke trots after his Exile comrades and enters the Walgreens.
Jenna fidget, pushing the layers of debris off and halts before removing the matter above her shin. Blood leaks from the gash where a copper pipe has pierced the skin. She held the knife, considering. Placing the knife where Luke originally dropped it, resting her palms around the pipe. Two quick breaths and pull. Jenna bit her lip so hard it drew blood filling her mouth. Removing the flannel she was wearing, Jenna ties the thick clothing around her open wound and ties it, tight. Preparing herself, palms dark red wielding the knife, began gathering her good foot. Staggering and limping to a mild hop, heading in the opposite direction of the Walgreens. He helped me once, no guarantee he can save me from the brute. Light head and dizzy, Jenna swerving in the open street, dragging from death and looking for life.