. This story mainly got inspiration from the game "This War of Mine" but for realism sake I have added a few more events.
All Sarah could hear was gunfire and explosions of shells going off as the two parties threw everything they had against each other. She felt like she was reaching her physical limit at this point, her lungs burned and her legs ached like hell and she wasn't anywhere near her shelter.
She had been scavenging at an old long abandoned house and had been caught by the sun, she knew she had to leave and thought she could just sneak back home, but she had been caught in a small rebel skirmish on a military convoy and it had grown into a huge battle.
She had been holed up in an abandoned gas station for a full day and slept there that same night and this morning she was moving back to the shelter as quickly as possible.
War had been raging for countless months and the besieged city has been reduced to a sea of ruins by constant shelling. Going outside during daylight is like inviting snipers to target practice. Everything is in short supply and what little aid reaches the city is seized by the most ruthless and best armed.
Boom
One of the fired shells went off quite close to where she was and it knocked her off her feet and left sprawling on the ground. Her vision was hazy and she felt dizzy and she felt a strange liquid flowing down the side of her head. She put her hand to her head and brought it back down to see it stained with a crimson red.
Blood. Must have hit my head on the way down.She thought.
There was so much adrenaline pumping through her body she couldnt really tell what hurt and what was injured. One thing she did know was that amongst the adrenalin her leg hurt like hell.
Better not be bloody broken.
She tried running and collapsed wincing and swearing at the pain.
Stupid leg.
She figured she must have twisted her leg. Sarah knew she could stay still for long as the battle raged all around her and if she didnt keep moving she would surely perish. Images flashed into her mind, her
friends, the other survivors, and the shelter. They were counting on her.
Gotta get back…
Once again she rose to her feet using a nearly burnt out car for support, she winced again, every step sent sharp pains up her left leg. Slowly she limped over to what looked like the boot of the car and took a quick peek.
Why not? Could be surprised… with her current position, she could probably risk this.
She was indeed surprised, what she thought to have been an SUV had turned out to be one of the smaller military jeeps that seemed to have been long forgotten. You could see the paint job on one of the doors where it wasn't burnt as much, still had its forest camo paint with the Pogoren Military emblem. The boot was difficult to open especially because of her leg. After 20 minutes of cursing and yelling Sarah finally got the boot open and to her surprise, it was almost like a dream. Sarah hadnt realized but she was grinning like a small child at Christmas time who just got all the presents they asked for.
Jackpot She thought.
The boot contained a military pack that had at least 12 different pockets, a bullet proof vest that she almost put on instantly. Sarah quickly turned and looked around making sure no one had snuck up on her and her prize. When she was certain she was alone she turned back and started going through the pack. Sarah was quite impressed with her find: a radio, a map of the city, a military grade flashlight and compass, a small 9mm pistol with 5 magazines and a few MREs which she would keep for later. After returning everything back into her pack she then continued to go through the rest of the boot, a few 2L bottles of water, an assault rifle with at least 200 bullets in a box, a pair of binoculars and a full medical kit. Once again she checked her surroundings before emptying the pack and sorting everything into pockets so that she could fit everything. She found a few magazines to hold the assault rifle bullets, about 30 bullets per mag and she had 5 mags. She found the place on the vest that you store loaded magazines and slipped them into the pockets. The remaining 50 bullets she put in a zip lock bag she found in the boot and slipped them into the pack. Sarah was up and ready to go she had her rifle in hand and her pistol at her side, both loaded, her pack was a little heavy but she couldnt bring herself to leave anything.
I'll manage She told herself.
Sarah was off again, limping and weighed down a bit by the pack and the vest as well as the rifle she was carrying but never the less she was on the move. The fighting had seemed to have died down a bit, the number of explosions going off per minute had reduced from 5 to about 2 and there were a few conflicts of gunfire exchange but they were usually short lived. After about 2 hours of running, limping, falling and cursing with the occasional stop to breathe, Sarah was almost certain she was out of that conflict zone and into some more unaffected area. The buildings were shelled so much that they were more like ruins but there wasnt any gunfire of explosions at the moment.
Quiet, finally.
Sarah finally sat down took off the pack and placed the rifle leaning against it. That was when she realized how tired she was. She couldnt fall asleep out here though, too dangerous. The fighting was one thing, but after a while, the survivors of the war started getting desperate, they started killing and stealing, raiding in the night.
Well, time to go home. Stupid leg better not be broken.
Sydney was standing out in the backyard of their shelter - a rugged old mansion in the rich district of town. The grass was well overgrown and looked more like a wheat field ready for harvest than a backyard. There was a worn out and collapsing tree house hung on an old oak tree in the back corner over a set of broken and rusted play equipment. Earlier on in the war, Sydney and a few other survivors were lucky enough and had stumbled across this old house.
Few residents were lucky enough to flee. The unlucky ones, like them, who missed the last refugee convoy, are left to fend for themselves. Ordinary people, huddling in the ruins, relying on each other to survive.
The first few days had been full on, the house had once belonged to a rich family and was three stories high and had a two story basement, once upon a time it would have been beautiful but it had been badly damaged in the shelling. They had to clear a lot of the rubble and small piles of belongings here and there. After clearing out the basement they had found a locker. It had contained a pistol, a shotgun, a few assault rifles and a crowbar. The basement was packed full of locked doors and more of the lockers, the crowbar seemed to come in handy, they had found a box of 60 bullets and a box load of canned food along with one of those huge crates of bottled water. It was as if people here had been preparing for this war all along.
There were a lot of useful materials and parts around that could be used and some old workbenches and such around.
They had started by setting up some bedding down in the basement, safe from the shelling that was constant for days at a time and wouldnt stop until the officials were sure no one was alive, obviously the officials require more than those tiny wire frame spectacles that hang around their necks. The shelling keeps us up at night, no more than the thought of Sarah out there every night bringing back the supplies required to survive.
Now, Sydney was worried for her friend and for the shelter, Sarah went out 2 nights ago and hadn't returned, normally she would go out at night and return the next morning, but she hadn't returned and Sydney had heard through a tiny radio about a large scale exchange of gunfire down near the district that Sarah had gone.
In Sydney's mind, she feared the worst for Sarah. That she had died alone out in the area that used to be a thriving city. She did her best not to show her concern and let it get to her too much.
One more day. She thought.
That was the golden number, one more day of food, one more day of waiting for Sarah to come home, one more day until winter.
One more day.