The sun bounced up the horizon, like some giant yellow beach ball in endless blue waters. The snow beneath it glistened under its heat. A perfect winter's dream. Too bad she'd never see it.
She unburied her head from her pillow and glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was past dawn. She should get up. She sat up, rubbing the remnants of a dreamless night out of her eyes. How she hated her life. She picked an old black shirt and a pair of purple leggings up form the floor and slid them on after removing her night gown.
Gaz stood and bumped her head on the incredibly low ceiling, "Shit!" She rubbed her scalp for a moment and left into the hallway. The hallways were dark. The only light came from the small sunlamps that were beginning to die out. Gaz walked faster, past the bedrooms of the others. She didn't like to be reminded of who she was living with. They were all just idiots. Idiots who ruined their own lives, her and her brother's lives, her father's life…
The small hallway ended and she was in a slightly larger room. She stopped and looked around at the sleazy room. It was a big room with hardly anything in it. An old wooden table, some chairs, an old couch, and broken TV set next to it. Gas looked at the television's smashed screen and smiled at the memory. These stupid people couldn't even have sex right…
Gaz shook away the memory and walked to a closet on the far side of the room. Stepping inside, she pushed aside some brooms and mops, and grabbed one of the guns from shelf, just in case. She continued pushing around things until she found what she was looking for.
Three rungs that led up to a hatch in the ceiling. She climbed them and opened the hatch.
It was cold, but felt so good. No one was aloud outside anymore, or at least who was left wasn't aloud out. There had only been 25 survivors since the Irken attack and they all lived underground; in secret.
Gaz pulled herself completely out of the hatch, pushing some snow out of her way. Dib had said it was too dangerous to be outside, but, she was never one to listen. But, today, maybe she should have.
The tiny forest was littered with metal debris and wires where her father's lab had once proudly stood, and amidst it all, someone walked. They were not human.
Keeping her eyes on the figure, she reached down into the snow and picked up a pipe like thing, forgetting she had grabbed her gun on the way out. The pipe being pulled from the snow made a rustling noise… the figure had heard.
Gas saw something shine on the thing's head as it came towards her, and she stood her ground, closing the top of the hatch with her foot. She wouldn't want whatever that was getting in. Not that she cared, but, all her games were in there.
She held the pipe like a baseball bat and dug her feet into the ground as the Irken insignia on the figure's clothing came into view.
"Hey, you ther-" Gaz swung. The pipe vibrating in her hands as it hit the back of the Irken's head. Just as it began to speak, the voice sounded familiar, but, seven years in isolation could really mess up your head.
Spots of purple blood painted the snow, like some sick, snow cone that slipped from a child's hands. Gaz had two rumors about Irken blood: one, being that it was a deep violet. Two, being that it was the same color as their eyes. She couldn't prove these rumors wrong or right. This Irken's eyes were deep violet.
Gaz looked down at the unconscious Irken as its pak began to spark and its skin burned in the snow. Water. Gaz recognized that accented voice the Irken had before going down.
She sighed and brought her inside the shelter. Dib was not going to be happy.